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There is something about living in an older apartment that gets my “Curious Georgette” juices flowing.  When I see the various layers of paint in a corner, I begin to wonder…what types of personalities lived in this same space and how did they make it home? Were they homebodies?  Night owls?  Where did they work and what did they do?  Were they artists? Writers? Young? Old?
 
When I first moved in I noticed a memorial invitation posted on the wall for a Jeffrey Jones.  I then put two and two together and realized that I was living in the former apartment of a JJ (his name was on my mailbox).  How did JJ pass away?  Was is it in my apartment?!?!  What sort of life did he have in this little place?
 
This building has been around for ages…as is apparent by the revolving wall (a former murphy bed), the sink faucet with separate hot and cold spouts (so you have to mix the two together in your hand to wash your face with warm water), the incredibly small kitchen, and the extremely odd angles in every room. I know there must be some sort of fun history that I just don’t know about.  Who was the first person to live here?  How much was their rent?! What color were their walls?  What did they see when they looked out the windows to the now busy street below? My guess is probably not a dog accessory boutique or girlie shoe store. 
 
I suppose I could do the research, but I kind of like the mystery of not knowing and I think I would rather create my own characters and stories from the layers of paint that I see….

My one little holiday attempt.  (I am the dot in the center of the bulb). 

I hate to admit this, but I am a little bit of a holiday scrooge. Extreme Christmas decorations honestly make me nauseous.  I enjoy lights on houses and tactful holiday spirit, but any overwhelming signs of Christmas force me have to close my eyes.  And I seriously cannot stomach Christmas music.  The absolute worst is when I get a song stuck in my head and can’t get it out…I nearly barf in my mouth. Maybe I immersed myself in the Christmas shenanigans too much as a kid (kind of like eating too many cheddar and sour cream chips to the point where you get sick…and now you can never eat them again).
Whatever the cause…I guess I am a scrooge.

Luckily, our family is completely toning down our Christmas festivities for this year which I couldn’t be happier about.  My mom sent out an e-mail to all of us kids explaining how 1.) We all don’t need more things, 2.) It is too hard to find items for each other that we will like 3.) None of us have enough money to spend money on crap. We may each have a little stocking stuffed with oranges or something, but no big gift exchange.  Whoo hoo!  I am totally down for just a nice dinner as a family with four dogs and a baby.

Beyond all the intense red and green, the frenzied materialism drives me batty.  I love giving people gifts and showing others that I care about them and have thought about them, but it is hard to draw the line between showing your appreciation and getting someone something just to be buying them a gift.

Maybe my attitude will change at some point, but for the moment…simple is best.  I will without a doubt enjoy my time with family and friends, but I am fairly certain I won’t get caught up in the expensive chaos.

A year ago today, I was home in Colorado and my sister’s stomach was huge.  I had a four day window surrounding the expected birth of her first ever child.   I prayed every night for months beforehand…hoping that something would happen while I was home.  We researched all the natural ways to get the baby going…long hikes (while my poor sister was carrying 30 lbs on her tiny little hips), cups and cups of raspberry leaf tea, pineapple, spicy Indian food. Thank goodness we didn’t go the castor oil route!!  However, I think the yoga the morning of December 4, 2005 (the due date) was what did the trick.  I remember walking around Pearl Street during that yoga time…it was a cold but sunny day and I had just purchased a funny little porcelain baby doll ornament with a broken foot. 
 
Never would I imagine how that day would change so dramatically.
 
At around 3:30pm my sister was sitting on the couch and said she felt something.  She wasn’t sure if it was a contraction because it was so low on her enormous beach ball of a stomach…but it was different than a gas pain or baby kick.  She looked at all of us with such an odd but excited expression.  Me being the naive and excitable person I am…I watched her like a hawk for the next few hours and I would not leave her side.  As time progressed the odd lower belly pain started to kick in on a more regular basis.  She was actually starting to have contractions.  Around 6:00pm she and Cyril were timing each contraction which naturally became increasingly more and more painful.  I will never forget watching them time a contraction while a horrible cartoon with angry Santas played in the background.  The Santas chanted “Ho, ho ho.  Ho ho ho.  Ho ho ho” in such a vicious and repetitively faster manner…it almost made me nauseous.  I didn’t want to say anything to Steph and Cyril…I thought I would let them do what they needed to get through the contractions. 
 
Because the medical costs in having a baby are so high, the soon to be new parents wanted to wait as long as they could before heading to the hospital.  When my sista could no longer handle the pain…my mom, brother in law, and I (along with the woman in pain) headed off to the hospital.  I couldn’t imagine sitting at home just to wait in anticipation, so I had to go with the troops.  When we arrived at the hospital my sister was already 7 or 8 cm dilated so they whisked her off to receive an epidural (just in the nick of time!).  My sister was so funny when she lost control over her little white legs.  The poor woman pushed and pushed and the delivery nurse (who reminded me of Karen from Will and Grace) used so many interesting tactics to try and get my sister to pop the child out….but nothing happened.  My parents and I were all in the delivery room for every moment.  I don’t think I have ever had as much adrenaline running through my body as I did that night.  I can’t say the same for my dad…at one point he was literally sprawled out on the couch in the delivery room…snoring (all while my sister was quietly screaming in pain).  If nothing less, it was a comical moment.  At around 5am the doctor decided that perhaps a C-section would make the most sense.  My mom and dad went home to rest for a few hours and I slept on the cold cold couch…shaking in nervousness (and from the cold)…wondering if my sister was ok.
 
At 5:32am, Steph and Cyril had a baby and Amelia Mary Vidergar was born.  She was 6 pounds 10 ounces and 21 and 1/4 inches long.   I went to the baby station and Cyril was standing next to a new little Vidergar human…I mouthed “Is it a boy?”  Cyril mouthed, “No, a girl!”  
 
A year later we have a beautiful little Steph/Cyril clone who is the funniest mini-person I have ever met.  I hope my first dog/child is just like Amelia.  Maybe I will name her Namelia Nary Nidergar or Bamilia Bary Bidergar. 
 
Happy Birthday little baby.

 

Smiling Mazie dog.

A momentous event happened last night: I stepped in a massive pile of dog dookie.

After a long days work the thought of a freezing cold bike ride home sounded painful on my little lungs.  Luckily Cooper was gracious enough to pick me up, but karma had it in for me. Upon arrival at our apartment, I swiftly exited the car so as to get my bike out of the back in record speed (so another car could park behind us).  Without looking I stepped on a large pile of what felt like mud….I slipped around on the pavement…working to put the tire back on my bike.  Then I noticed that the massive (and I mean massive!) pile of mud that I stepped in had quite a stench to it.  An awfully horrific stench. I had to confess to Cooper that I stepped in dog turd (to which he laughed of course).  So, instead of riding my bike home in the cold and potentially not messing up my shoes, I was outside for an hour trying to scrape dung off the bottom of my soles.  The other issue I faced was: what do you do when you live in an apartment without a balcony or private access to the outdoors?  I couldn’t walk in the halls with my shoes on, but luckily I did find a water spout and one of my old toothbrushes so I continued to scrub my shoes.  Man did I scrub.  I then attempted to hang my shoes outside of my window and had to tie them to the curtains in our living room so they wouldn’t fall on the busy street below.  I suppose moments like this help you to appreciate the luxuries of having some space and living in an actual home. 

It is excruciating to go from the mid-80’s in Hawaii to 30 degree morning bike rides to work in Berkeley (or 15 degrees and a snow storm for my mom in Boulder…yuck!).  Days like this call for lots of tea. However, lately I have been in a bit of a tea funk.  I need some new tea favorites beyond chamomille, mint, chai, or black teas.  I love Mighty Leaf teas, but at the moment I can’t afford to make their teas of absolute joy a daily habit.  Any suggestions? 

Maybe I should just stick to the mai tai and go back to Hawaii.   

Nay Nay and Nay Nay wedding 11.25.2006 (photos courtsey of Cooper Carras Photography)

I can’t begin to describe how beautiful the wedding in Hawaii was this past weekend.  My brother was the sharpest groom I have seen dressed in a white linen suit and black converse allstars.  Naomi was stunning.  Simply stunning.  The weather was perfect.  The ceremony and reception were perfect.  It is going to be hard to top an event like this. 

 

botanical gardens, San Francisco

Tomorrow morning we are off to Hawaii for the wedding.  I have orange hands (from the magical tan I got last night), I have too much laundry to do, I have not packed at all, our apartment is a mess, and I have not practiced enough for the karaoke event…BUT WE ARE GOING TO HAWAII!!  The weather forecast doesn’t look to bright (literally), but I know that it is going to be a blast no matter what.  Goooooooooo destination weddings! 

 

I am in love. 

I am in love with this bread.  This recipe deserves absolutely every ounce of the hype.  If I were to give someone one piece of advice in life: make this bread.  Cooper and I made this loaf of wonderous wonder over the weekend and when it came out of the oven at 1am, we devoured a third of it within minutes.  It is amazing.  Words do not describe how delicious it is.  I am utterly in love.

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A random thought: have you ever accidentally (or intentionally) worn two different socks that are of varying thickness?  I LOVE IT!!  They have to be extremely different types of socks to feel the pleasure.  One foot with a thin sock will feel like an entirely different world than the foot with the thick sock.  It will change your life (in addition to the above mentioned bread recipe).

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Tonight I am going to turn orange.  I am going to try one of the spray tan machines with a friend in prep for the Hawaii wedding (2 days until we take off!!).  Hopefully it is semi-natural looking…I suppose anything is better than my natural bright white.  Cross your fingers for me.

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Perhaps one of my favorite gifts to give (especially around the holidays) is from this bakery in Wisconsin.  Their kringles are amazing. 

Did you hear about Colonel Sanders as seen from space?  I love desert art like this. 

Today I bought our office a little popcorn machine.  I got too excited about the contraption and just had to buy it along with white, gold, and blue all natural popcorn.  Oh, the things we do when we get bored at work! 

This photo just makes me giggle (usually internally, but sometimes out loud depending on who is around me) every time I see it.  Doesn’t Cooper look like Napoleon Dynamite?!

Another moment of internal joy: biking down a side street on my way to work that is terribly full of bumps and holes…except for a one beautiful new strip of concrete right down the middle.  I coast like none other when I hit that fabulous strip.  I have also just recently been extremely excited about using my arms to tell the cars behind me which way I am going to turn.  I feel a tad bit silly about putting my awkward, bony, and extremely white arm out for all to see, but at the same time I thoroughly enjoy it.  If you see someone biking who puts out something that looks like a white twig…it is probably me.