Tag Archives: corelyn

It’s just funny…what do you need a headlamp for?

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For a while now, I’ve owned a headlamp. I keep it in my bedside table. It’s there in case there is an earthquake in the middle of the night, in case the power goes out, in case I need to go to the garage in the dark, or in case I need to pack it for camping.

Last July 4th, we were at the beach and I had my headlamp in my bag. It was getting dark as we packed up, so I said, “Hold on,” and found it, strapped it on, and kept cleaning up. My friend E just laughed, and said, “You just have a headlamp? What do you need a headlamp for?” I declared I used it for camping, for the garage, and for moments just like these.

It was my only source of light when I chaperoned a trip to Ranch Camp. I used it when I road-tripped with Lauren down the California coast. Corelyn and I used the headlamp to paint the chairs for our photo shoot in the garage, in the dark. I brought it on my road trip with Corelyn, and managed to pull it out the last night to direct her out of the driveway with her full car. I cursed myself the day we went to the winery tour and we didn’t have one to look in the huge containers they store the wine in. I used it just the other day to look at Jeff’s finger (which is another story) in our dim living room.

I think everyone should own a headlamp. And you know what? Real Simple magazine, a magazine I adore and trust, agrees with me! In June’s Real Simple, which arrived at my door on Monday, there is mention of having a headlamp on hand (for grilling, mainly, or for whatever!) I laughed when I saw this, about two years after my own falling in love with my headlamp. Jeff got mine for me, and I suggest you ask your boyfriend/girlfriend/best friend for one for your next birthday, too!

Un’amica Stretta

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Like, for instance, we just learned the other day that un’amica stretta means “a close friend.” But stretta literally means tight, as in clothing, like a tight skirt. So a close friend, in Italian, is one you that can wear tightly, snug against your skin, and that is what my little Swedish friend Sofie is becoming to me.

**************

I am finally back from my road trip with Corelyn. We left last Saturday, April 23, and were on the road until Sunday, May 1. It was, as any road trip, a life-changing experience. We had a lot of adventures on the road, from the Grand Canyon to the Alamo, and I wouldn’t change a second of it.

On Monday, Corelyn put me back on a plane to LA. Neither of us cried, we just said goodbye, and I headed off. “I’m not going to watch you go through security,” Cor said, as we sat waiting as each moment ticked by. “So you don’t want to watch me inch forward and waive at me every one second?” I questioned. We laughed, but knew secretly we’d stay together every moment we could.

On the plane home, I started reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. The above paragraph is from that novel, in her “Italy” section. As I sat on the plane, headed home, I let a few tears go reading that section. Corelyn is un’amica stretta. She is my close friend, and I will wear her tightly, cliché or not.

I will miss her as she starts a new chapter of her life back east, but I know we will always be sorelle. In New Orleans, we stopped at a house that had been left dilapidated by Hurricane Katrina. An artist has repainted one of its walls and left a section for you to answer the statement, “Before I die…” I wrote “Open a restaurant.” Corelyn wrote, “With JP.”

I believe someday, I will open a restaurant with Corelyn. It will probably be on Apple Tush Farms, the farm I plan to have with K, SS, and M. And, my friends, we will all live happily. ever. after. For now? Filling the chapters in between with my California adventures that will restart this weekend after being away for so long. Wish me luck, loves.

 

All our friendship has been for the past 2 years is RUSHING.

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I said this to Corelyn last night as we RUSHED out of the door to Trader Joe’s and I said, “Remember that time that we went to TJ’s and forgot our list?”

“Yes, we talk about it nearly every time we go to TJS, obviously it was traumatic.”

“Well yes, and we were rushing for some reason….”

“WE’RE ALWAYS RUSHING.”

“Corelyn, all our friendship has been for the past 2 years is RUSHING. We just RUSH around all the live-long day.”

Last night was no exception. The plan was to do the following: paint chairs, make granola, exchange music (if we had time), maybe slap on a second coat of paint, outfit plan for the photo shoot on Sunday.

On the actual docket? Unexpected visit from Mary, which turned into outfit planning whilst waiting for dinner to arrive. This was a blessing (not in disguised, as Corelyn pointed out) because she had insight into what she really thought would look great. Also unexpected visit from Becca, who showed up because she was supposed to grab dinner with Mary. This turned into dinner with Mary and Becca, whilst hanging out with Melissa, who actually was supposed to come over.

This led us to a late start on our painting, which meant we painted the chairs in my garage in the dark, using a camping light and head lamps. Mary watched for a few minutes before turning to go inside and keep Becca company.

“How do they look?” Mary asked as we came in, about 30 minutes later.

“Well, you’re not going to like them. But we’ll put a second coat on them and they’ll look great,” was my honest response. After that, we sat around for a few minutes making plans for the granola we were about to make, waiting for the food. The Indian place we order from somehow was very late in getting us our food, so this led to us eating and finishing up around 9:15. Since our normal TJ’s closes at 9:00, we had to head to a different one.

As we were going to the car, after saying goodbye to Mary and Becca who were rejuvenated by delicious food and ready for another adventure, Melissa, Corelyn, and I were reminded a) how late it was b) that we had the list and c) all we do is rush.

We headed to TJ’s where we had a hilarious conversation with the check-out guy, “You know how there is always something in granola that you don’t like? This granola will have nothing you don’t like, because YOU made it.” He seemed intrigued. He gave us stickers. One has a chicken with chicks that are multicolored.

Then we went back to the house, when we realized it was 10:00. Perfect time to make granola and paint the second coat. We got everything ready for the oven to bake, then took the timer, the camping lamp, the headlamps, and headed back to the garage.

27 minutes later, we headed back inside, but not before Melissa came to say goodbye and tell us someone had left a hilarious note (which is going to be posted soon, I promise.) She headed home, and we headed inside to finish the granola.

As we washed our teal hands, we could smell the oats and maple syrup all deliciously roasted. We documented what we had already added, and then added a slew of other things while making sure to keep track of what we were adding. Pictures were taken, random splotches of paint were found on each other’s arms, and granola was finished. By the time Corelyn left it was nearly quarter to midnight. We hadn’t had a music exchange, we didn’t pack the kitchen, but other than that, we had accomplished a lot.

Tonight, book club. Tomorrow? Rinse and repeat Tuesday’s chaos with some donuts, muffins, and pancakes. Stay tuned.

Gotta keep this beat alive…

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[Alternative Title: Why I Love LA.]

Tonight I got home. I washed the dishes in the sink. I ate some leftovers with Corelyn, divvied up our CSA. Then we moved to the bathroom, put on some makeup, waited for Megan, and…walked to a Hanson concert. An outdoor Hanson concert, given the 75 degree weather tonight.

Hanson was the musical guest for Jimmy Kimmel Live. (Fun fact – they don’t always do the music “live” — they film it live and that guest is the guest another night. So the “inside” part is truly live, and the musical guest is not. Questions I have for them: do they keep track of the tie that Jimmy wears and make sure he wears it again the night that he films the inside stuff for the Hanson show? can I be the person who keeps track of that?)

Jimmy Kimmel Live happens to shoot one block from my apartment. So we walked up, where our friend P got us in (no lines, no waiting, no nothing!) and we just strolled to the waiting area for the show (parking lot by day.) Hanson eventually came on, but not before we made friends with some of the Jimmy Kimmel crew. They laughed as I spewed off facts about the Hanson brothers — one, Matt, even suggested I get a pick, a drumstick, and maybe hang out with them later. I, of course, planned on doing all of the above.

Then we were informed by P that Jimmy Kimmel would be standing on “that platform over there” so we meandered over. I, of course, pushed my way to the front of the velvet ropes around the small platform, so as to be in prime location for the moment that Jimmy introduced the boys. As the PA or whoever he was kept bringing people over to be front and center, I held my ground behind Jimmy. When the camera turned on, I was smiling and looked straight into the eyes of America (look out for me next week, I’ll let you know when!)

Then of course, Taylor, Isaac, and Zac came out. They played:

*Give a Little
*Waiting for This
*Thinkin’ Bout Somethin’
*And I Waited

There was dancing, and after the second song the pressure of keeping the cheers was off (this was, after all, just the part for the web) and we could let loose and dance!

Afterward, the guys came out to high five and shake hands, but Phil offered to take us backstage, where PA boy who tried to move me outta camera’s way asked us where we were going before realizing we were with P. “Don’t worry, we’re just wondering around, it’s fine,” I told him. We stood backstage, where Matt asked how the day was.

“Everything I wanted. More,” I stated. Matt smiled, and laughed, and walked off to do some cool job I didn’t even know existed. But then, a few minutes, Matt came back. With picks. From Hanson. “I didn’t have much luck with the drumstick,” he laughed as he walked away…

Needless to say, the rest of the night was mostly a blur, as I clutched my pick. I was worried it might fling out of my pocket. “Let me hold it,” Corelyn said. “NO!” I shouted, walking backwards away from her, two hands to my chest with the pick safe inside my fist.

P walked us out the Jimmy Kimmel Live set through the front door. Through the green room. No Hanson in sight, but we tried.

We walked home. I put my pick in my wallet. Next week, I’ll be on TV. No big deal. Just a Tuesday night in Hollywood…

Running, running, running…

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Week 2 of the 5K training is on. It’s Thursday already (How in the WORLD did that happen?) and LA has cranked up the heat. 90 degrees is our high today, and it makes me glad today is  “rest” day.

Yesterday I meant to run in the morning. I packed my gym bag. I packed my things for work. I set my alarm. I knew I’d make myself add to my iPod’s playlist in the morning. Everything was ready. And I woke up…at 6:45. Too late to do ANYTHING about the fact that I was supposed to run. So I got up (at least I could be on time for work) and chastised myself the entire way to work, knowing this meant rushing to the gym after work to run before a scheduled meeting with MMC and Cor.

I left work on time, and got to the gym at 5:55. Not horrible, could be better. I stretched, cursed the fact that my jams were SO OLD. I got on the treadmill, already hot (damn 24hour fitness, please turn the air up, please) but determined. As I ran, I tried to keep my speed at 6.0 and above, as my sorella suggested, because it would help my legs not get tired as quickly because they were at my natural stride. I allowed myself less walks. My heart rate was around 180 the entire time, and I pushed, and pushed, and pushed. As I got to a mile, I was at less than 12:30, and I knew I was on to something. I allowed a quick walk, then was back at it. The result?

1.5 miles in 17:51. More than 90 seconds off my previous best time of 19:29. I am feeling good today. I think I need to work on pace (I am a sprinter, walker, sprinter, more so than a jogger) and figure out a way to run outside without falling flat on my face or getting run over in this crazy city. Also I’d like to avoid the loooooong hills that Hollywood specializes in. We’ll see how I do.

With this 90 degree weather today, I will be waiting until next week to see how the outside world is…meanwhile, tomorrow is another 1.75 run, so I will attempt to run that in the AM to allow myself a free Friday evening. This afternoon? A walk through the neighborhood to make up for my Tuesday rest day, possibly to Paula Deen’s book on tape or else some podcasts.

Meanwhile, if you could guys could send a mixed CD my way, and podcast suggestions for my walks, that’d be great.