Going Irish

   There are two things that I am beyond a doubt. I am writer, and I'm Irish. I don't mean Irish in a "hey, my great-great-great-grandfather was from Ireland...I think the family name was Scapolini." way. I mean Irish in a "my grandparents are from Ireland and raised six VERY Irish children that attain accents when angry (or drunk)" way. I have always grown up in an Irish like environment. Family always coming and going, wakes filled with laughing, crying, and hidden alcohol (that's a whole other story), and the many evenings spent 'round a fireplace (or camp fire, or nightlight) listening to my dad tell folklore from the 'auld country'.

Looks like the story of the "Soul Cages" from the worried faces!

    And it was this very childhood and the stories in it that made me silently (or maybe not so silently) rage against the authors who defamed, twisted, and flat out misused the information and stories of the Irish pantheons and storytellers. So slowly, carefully, I crafted a story as only a child born of  a storyteller could. I decided to write a book using the true and accurate (to my knowledge and research) stories and folklore. I have always loved where my family came from, I was raised being told repeatedly by my father "Keely, your Irish".

      I didn't realize how true that statement was until I went to Ireland. In Southern California where fit bodies, sun tanned leather skin and Blond Hair in a Box rule, I am the odd duck out. I am pale with freckles (mostly gone, but I was really freckled as a child), brownish red hair, and curves that most girls pay heafty sums for here. But I am odd. So when I landed in Ireland and found that every one was as talkative as myself and could spin a story out of their life just like I always did,  it made me realize just how culturally 'Irish' my dad had raised me.

     I had come home. And if felt wonderful.

      So now I'm writing this book. I love it because I feel I can write the Good Folk of Ireland and all its glorious folktales and do it the justice and honesty it deserves. And a plot line hopefully worthy of the heroes of old. But for all of the little nuances that make me Irish, the simple fact that I wasn't raised there poses a problem when it comes to slang and dialect. My own cousins come from County Clare, and arrived in the 60's so other than gaining their accent, I don't know the slang. And I didn't know how Gaelic football (the MOST watched sport in Ireland, by the way) worked until I read the rules today for part of my story. Hell, its not even really going INTO the story, but  I need to know it for a character's sake.

      Writing is hard. Trying to find things out when you don't have a ton of friends from Ireland to help you with it is even harder. So for next two months despite my Irish heritage and upbringing, I must now GO IRISH. Its that or go home...or you know, to an Irish pub to nurse my wounds like any good Irish girl.
    

2012: The Year Of Me

In a recent poll conducted by CNN it was pointed out that while the vast majority of American people had a dismal outlook on the state of their own country and government, they had high hopes and positive views on their own personal lives and goals, which I found very interesting and even hopeful. The reason for this is that it means that while many a man and woman has had trials and tribulations of the variety that 'try men's souls', they still come out the other side being positive. After hearing of this poll and thinking about it I've decided that this year is The Year Of Me.

     People are focusing on themselves (and probably even their immediate family and friends), but unless your leaving your toddler on a counter-top near a set of steak knives unsupervised while you do yoga, taking time to really work on yourself is a very beneficial thing. Ever hear the phrase 'if mama ain't happy, ain't no one gonna be happy'? As red neck and simplistic as it sounds, its also very true. Happiness comes from inside and spreads outwards. When your stressed about your job, unhappy with your lot life, angry at your next door neighbor or frustrated over  the fact that you can't seem to get rid of your mother in law who constantly pops into your life to offer advice about how to raise your children, your stress passes onto your husband/wife/partner/children and they all suffer because you don't have the patience to help them. So really, in my mind, taking this year to really focus on yourself and take stock of your life is a good thing.

     For instance tonight I went ahead and deleted my profile from the numerous dating websites that I had been signed into. I hadn't had too much luck with the site, other than the occasional dating of LA men, and really, the other websites wanted money, and I just don't think a computer should be asking me to pay 19.99 a month for doing little in the way of finding a really good man/woman. And really, what have any of my previous relationships (if you can call them that) offered me? Nothing except heart ache. So this year I'm doing the things I'd avoided doing all of last year. One of them--while not on my resolution list--is to in effect, stop looking for love. If there's one thing I've learned its that love and relationships come either when

a)  its the absolutely worst time to meet some one--like say when you are running after a mail truck in pj's that are covered in care bear faces as a very dashing man steps out of an expensive looking car and happens to see said spectacle.

or

b) when you say to yourself "I'm busy with work and goals and don't have time for men" then find yourself suddenly head over heels for person. Why IS that any way!?

    My new years resolution isn't a very extensive list, but the articles in it are very important to my life and contribute to the Year Of Me. They are the following:

1) Find an exercise regime and stick to it.
2) Finish my book
3) Find a job/career that I am happy and fulfilled in
4) Travel

      That's it. But as I look at the list I realize that if I stick to my guns and I mean really stick to them, my life over the course of the year will certainly improve! I've also decided that I spend waaaaay too much time being annoyed/exasperated and perhaps I even am a little too opinionated. So I will endure to be more sympathetic (which isn't TOO hard of a stretch, I just need to learn to SHUT. MY. MOUTH.) and to simply laugh at the follies of my life rather than be angry at them. As to my career aspirations....honestly I'm still trying to figure that out. My life could go in so many directions at this point, and I'm not sure which direction to go. So for now I'm going to meditate on it while I desperately look for a job that can support me and pay bills.

      I don't expect to find any sort of romance this year, rather I think this year is more about making myself better and more into the person I want to be and establishing a career I can be proud and happy of. So, here's crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, because thinking of anything even remotely sad would probably end up with my lying on a floor cuddling a bottle of cherry vodka and trying to force myself to become five again.

     Here is to the new year! I hope The Year Of You works out and brings you many needed changes--even if you think you might not need or want them!

Newfangled Contraptions

 Let me just start this post by stating this fact: I am not a tech genius. If I were in a classroom being graded on my ability to know what a Widget was, I would fail and everyone would point their fingers and laugh me out of the room. For instance, my idea of fixing a computer is pressing ctrl+ alt+ del before smacking it and yelling 'why won't you work!?!?!' repeatedly. Sometimes it works, and sometimes my computer mocks me and freezes before deleting my favorite pages. Again, I'm not  a genius (although it may look like it).

    That being said, I'm trying to get on Bloglovin'. Why, you ask yourself? Because like a homeless person always asking for spare change, I want more. I'm addicted to peoples opinions and there's no cure, so I'm adhering to their odd law of copy and pasting their website on here to join it. Of course I always question WHY I would want people to read my blog, after all its not about anything in particular other than my daily life of living in Southern California (Orange County aka The OC), and my need to point out the seedy underbelly of it along with my musing on life. But I figure if people in Japan and Cambodia can get 10 thousand followers just for LIVING there, then why can't I!?

    So, if you're reading this entry, it means you've found me through a) bloglovin' b) blogger or c) you stumbled on it while drunk one night and saved it while taking your fourth shot of tequila.

     Either way, you've found it, so congratulations!


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Rainageddon!

     Look out SoCal it's raining, and you know what that means! Get on your snow boots, down jackets, and thick scarfs because the temperature has hit 49 degrees! Remember to bubble wrap your children and get a couple of good books out, you're going to be stuck in traffic for the next five hours.

A plant in my garden during a break in the rain

    For those of you who don't live in Southern California, or have never visited us when we encounter a 'rain storm' let me enlighten you.

       For most of the world rain is a completely normal experience. You look at the rain and think 'I can just wear my hoodie' and then get on with your life. In Southern California most people take one look at drizzly rain and throw on a huge jacket and arm themselves with an umbrella. Now sure, I'm guilty of this, but to be fair its the ONLY TIME we're able to wear something even resembling fall fashion. The real problem here is driving.

      If you will recall an older entry I wrote on driving etiquette in the OC, then you will know how awful our traffic is. So you can imagine then just how god awful it is in the rain. People in California can barely drive (I should know, I've been 'almost' hit more times than I can count) and when the rain comes your safest bet--if you're smart or a visitor--is to just stay inside. Don't say I didn't warn you! I have seen a huge SUV spin out right in front my car because they were driving too fast, and CA roads are not designed for rain.

     Most people however treat it like a regular day and don't driver slower despite the knowledge of the slick roads--thus leading to 20 car pile-ups (car crashes). My personal favorite occurrence is a small fender bender where there is almost NO damage, but it doesn't stop 1.2 million people from wanting to look at it like its a new ride at Disneyland and creating traffic for NO GOOD REASON.

    I suppose my love of rain is in part due to my childhood, where I spent most of my rainy days happily listening to stories my dad would make up, read books, or snuggle into a couch with tomato soup and a movie. In other words, to enjoy the rain and use it as an excuse to not work. But most people in CA are hardly ever prepared for rain--not even a light misting.

    So please, if you visit while its raining and you want to live, stay inside while it rains. Or toddle over to a movie theater and stay there until the rain leaves (or the other people), because if you don't you'll be coming face to face with wild eyed freaked-out SoCal residences who will look at you and bemoan the rain that we actually need to keep our water sources and hills replenished. And you, you lucky people, only have to throw on a hoodie!

A Rose in my garden after a good soaking!

Are YOU a good date to yourself?

I came across an article today touting the importance of dating yourself. In other words, learning how to enjoy some quality 'me time'. As a girl who has been largely single for most of her life, I highly encourage people to do this. Whether for good or bad, I've had many long months where I will find most of my friends in a combination of school-boyfriends-engagements-kids that equal a 'dry spell' for me, since I had no significant other with which to fall back on to do things with. So often times I am pitted against a Saturday or Sunday with a whole city at my disposal and no one to share i with. Well. No one except ME.

     So, like the 21st century girl I was raised to be I dress pretty, don makeup, do my hair up, and hit the town (oh alright, the oh-so-convenient Irvine Spectrum)! Often times I go see a movie and then grab lunch before happily skipping off to the book store to consume vast amounts of stories. I have no problem eating by myself with nothing to distract me (Although I admit I sometimes bring a book because I love reading). I remember once--but not long ago--a woman working at the resturaunt I was eating at came up to me and asked me,

"Are you here by yourself?"

I replied that I was.

"Oh wow," she said with something suspiciously like awe, "I could never do that! That's so brave! Good for you!"

    Since when did enjoying your own company become tantamount to being brave? Is it really so socially unconventional to be a woman and ENJOY sitting by yourself and being amused by the conversations you hear around you (some might call it eaves dropping. I call it finding my next one liner.)? Why can men do it and no one questions them? I really do feel that sometimes if you're a woman and by yourself--i.e. not dating any one, or you have the implication that you're not dating any one--that you must be some one to be pitied. Why?

    If you actually LIKE yourself, being alone isn't even something you really question. I don't at least. I suppose at one time or another during my life I've had to amuse myself. I learned to  do things that I liked because as a child, I never really had any one my age to play with. So I played make pretend and climbed trees by myself. The only difference now is that I go to a movie, or take a walk, or travel to a different country by myself instead of playing with barbies. After reading the article I had to admit though, I really do enjoy 'dating' myself. I like my company, I constantly amuse myself with my thoughts--which probably scares the poor people around me who wonder why I'm giggling--and I find that I'm much more aware of things around me than I would be if I were with some one.

      At what seems like the very old age of 26, I have realized some truths about my life thus far. Whether I have a serious relationship with a man or not, I will always have myself. Perhaps for some people that's not very comforting, but maybe that's because they don't like their own company. However I can always count on myself to take me out to a nice restaurant, buy flowers and chocolates, or even spoil me with a massage at a spa! Having a boyfriend would be wonderful, but until that happens, more and more often I find that I LIKE the thought of doing things by myself--and for myself.

Apple Picking SoCal Style!

    In places other than Southern California (also known as SoCal to us residence) children are frolicking in fall colored leaves, drinking hot coco, and putting on thicker sweaters as dark clouds begin to skitter across  the sky. But here in the OC we're dying of heat and wondering when-oh-when the rain will come. But its SoCal. It NEVER comes. So rather than be sad and depressed about the never coming fall weather I contrived a plan to do the most iconic fall like activity I could think of.

My mom reaching for an apple!

    Go apple picking!

   But where could there possibly be apple orchards in an almost desert? Why a beautiful, magical town called Julian, of course! It's quaint, its old, its got a working silver mine, and apple orchards. After much shuffling of schedules and being told by many an orchard 'sorry, we're full' and 'our apples died this year' I finally managed to find one. Armed with enthusiasm, fall clothing (and yes, I did nearly die of the heat), and a camera, I headed off to the orchard with my amused mother.

     With the energy and wonder of a five year old I carefully inspected every single apple tree and picked only the most scrumptious looking apples I could find, after all, these apples were for pie baking. I filled my basket to the brim, and never mind the heat, I looked pretty fantastic! Not that I cared, because it was apple day! The orchards were buzzing with a few bees still collecting the last of the nectar they needed, and red ants and I had a nice run of surprise attacks (guess who surprised who when they went to sit down!?). All in all, the apple picking was a success!

So delicious looking!!

      My fun filled day wasn't done yet though! We stopped into Julian, and after a delicious meal we meandered along the streets and rummaged through antique shops. I found a beautiful antique tea cup made in Finland, and even got a discount on it! I almost love it more than my Japanese made tea-cup! After that  we needed to replenish our rapidly depleting energies, so we went for the world famous Julian Apple Pies (my mom's REAL reason for going, and not my delightful company. Deceived again!). They were delicious,especially the ice cream they put on the side!We went through a few more antique shops, and then decided to head home, to beat out the other tourists still stuffing themselves with pie.

Part of Julian. Can you believe that's in Southern California!?

 

     It had been a beautiful day (Even if I DID overly dress the part for all the heat), and honestly, I had tons of fun prancing around an apple orchard pretending it was a cold day in Vermont. Next year, I think I'll pick twice as many apples!

Am I tempting you yet!?

Dating Is For The Young

The internet is a great place for almost everything, and especially for dating. I mean, where else could you meet five guys, chat with them, and then pick one or two you like for a date? Some might argue you could do the same at a bar, but I would like to point out that very rarely are those men coherent enough to string together a cohesive sentence that describes something other than "me, you, my bed."  or "you're hot. Let's grind!" Also you are safe from the risk of getting felt up or drugged.

      Recently I went on a few dates with a very nice guy that I met thanks to the internet. Now honestly I can say that I think he's smart, goal oriented, and very cute. I'm not sure on his sense of humor yet. As of now both dates have felt decidedly....date-ish. You know, where you sort of interview each other but are trying really hard NOT to make it seem like its an interview? Yeah. I find that its a bit hard to gauge his sense of humor because honestly, he hasn't told a lot of jokes. Then again, we haven't really gotten to the point of feeling comfortable with each other, I think. It's very hard to gauge him, and usually I have an eye sharper than a hawk when it comes to the emotional feelings of others. I have NO idea what he thinks of me.

      I'm not sure if that's a good thing, or a bad thing.

    The first date we had I felt confident and pretty--which in my world is a rare feat indeed--and while I'm a known talker (I like to think of myself as a one man comedy show) I did try extra hard to ask lots of questions about him. So it was a bit off putting when his answers were...for lack of a better description, the complete opposite of how I tell answers (think the overly exaggerated expressions of silent films mixed with the the verbal and mental speed of the Gilmore Girls). He was interesting to listen to, but very rarely did a story flow into another story or another topic. Instead, it was a round of twenty (or fifty) questions.

    I had already told myself that this was going to be something light and casual, because the last couple times I had thought I had something I ruined it by being serious too fast (or in other words, being more prepared for a relationship than they were). So I was determined to take it slow this time, to just enjoy the moment and not take it for anything more than it was. I put my mouth in my foot so many times I'm surprised I didn't get hoof/mouth disease, and thus ensuring that I probably wouldn't get that second date. But the thought didn't bother me since I had taken this so lightly. But apparently my spunk and constant need to talk (out of nervousness, I assure you!) did not detour him, and he wanted a second date. So the same week I saw him again.

     Once more it was a round of twenty questions,a few awkward silences and me finally just apologizing for talking so much--which I would like to point out, he actually ENCOURAGED (what's wrong with him?!)--before we headed off to get lunch. I had assumed of course that at this point he would surely be sick of me, because after telling me at the end of our date "I would love for you to come to a potluck dinner with me and my friends" he didn't bother to call/text/e-mail me at all for three days (it was the same way for our second date as well). I assumed I had read too much into thinking he liked me (I realize at this point, I'm using a lot of 'assumes' here, but I'm a woman, and therefor entitled to it!) and had only said that to be polite before rapidly heading for the hills to join monks.

     Instead I ended up at his place the next week where we proceeded to make dinner (he's a vegetarian and while I enjoyed my meal of tofu and grain, I think I'd only last a couple days without actual meat in me) and watch a movie. During this movie watching I felt...awkward. Not sure of how much affection to give and realizing very rapidly that while I enjoyed his company I wasn't feeling that 'zing' or 'easiness' that all of my happily married/in-a-serious-relationship friends had and enjoyed. I felt like a 16 year old hiding out in the basement trying to remember the advice column of 16 Magazine. Needless to say I wasn't in any way, shape or form ready to do anything more than give him a hug.

       So after several days of trying to figure out if something was wrong with me, and taking a good hard look at the past few dates (and advice from family) I've come to the conclusion that while he IS a nice guy, dating him or feeling that 'spark' just isn't going to happen. And that's life. Trying to find the right time and way to say 'hey thanks, but no thanks' is the real kicker, and I still don't know how to do that. But after all of the ups and downs I will say now what I said when I was 16:

        Dating is for the young.