On to happier things aka: When life gives you lemons...

...make some limoncello and lemon-blueberry scones!

Here's the limoncello that Ms. D and I started last week just as the appendicitis started to hit. I hope that doesn't somehow make it sluggish! It's just about ready to be bottled and it will be good for drinking all summer. It's tasty by itself but also quite refreshing mixed with sparkling water. I plan to try it muddled with both mint and basil (at different times). Care to join me for a drink?








There are many different recipes out there. I pretty much follow the one I got out of a Giada deLaurentiis cookbook. I steep lemon rinds in vodka for about four days, add simple syrup for another day and then take out the rinds, bottle it up and let the flavors set in the fridge for a week to a month. The longer the better!

Yesterday I made a fantastic discovery. I found myself in the mood to bake or cook, maybe since I'm stuck at home and also because I know I'll be doing a lot of it once we're in Zurich. A recipe search led me to a brilliant food blog. And I am now quite smitten with smittenkitchen.com. Deb's writing is fun and her photography is great. I'd like to think it's the food blog I'd have if I could focus my scatterbrain enough on one topic!

While I did gather one project from reading up on her site, I decided that my baking mood was inspired by the less than stellar store bought ready-to-bake scones we had made that morning. So I decided to surprise CF with fresh baked real scones by the time he got home! I emailed mom (by the way, please check out her fantastic blog here) because I was pretty sure she'd have a favorite recipe. Sure enough she had the perfect simple scone recipe, and it even came with an article explaining the short process of making them. She scanned the two pages and emailed me jpegs. I got slowed down by the fact that I needed to pick up ingredients, so I pulled myself together and headed out for my first post-op solo adventure. It went all right, but my belly was sore once I got home. I was glad I needed to freeze a stick of butter till solid, so I didn't have to start baking right away.

The process was pretty darn easy once everything was ready. Flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt mixed in a bowl. I grated the butter (hence the need to freeze it) into this mixture and added the dried fruit I had picked up from the store. I had decided on lemon blueberry since I was on a lemon-roll. So I also zested two lemons into the mixture. Then I wisked a little sour cream with one egg, and that gets folded into the dry mixture. A little working with the hands and the dough comes together. I pressed it flat, sprinkled with a little extra sugar, and cut it into triangles. I lined a baking sheet with parchment paper and popped them in the oven. I cleaned the very few dishes I had dirtied, and then settled into rest in my favorite spot of the week, the chaise.

I just about squealed when CF came home right then. "Ohhh, you are going to love me!" I informed him. "I already do." Awwww. When he saw what I had going in the oven though he asked, "Are they for dinner?" "No." "Well, I *was* going to love you!" Harumph!

Instead we had them for dessert. And they are pretty darn good, if I do say so myself! We also had them for breakfast. I'm tempted to have one now for lunch! Oh dear, the problem with baking is then there are baked goods in the house! Well, it was sure fun and well worth it.



Thanks, mom!

Not what I signed up for... continued.

Once the ER doctor had declared the need for an appendectomy I became the hospital's problem. I thanked Dr. MacGregor and Caitlin profusely as I tried to fill out paper work (I handed some of it off because the damn IV in my right arm was making me not want to use it). I wonder how many people come through the ER really willing and/or able to thank them. I had felt kind of bad as CF and I sat there giggling while people were rather miserable all around me. This experience was a weird one!

So up and over to the hospital. They wheeled me into the short-stay unit where I met a great little team of nurses. Eileen and Mary were brash and loud and a whole lot of fun. Well, maybe it was just Eileen but she had enough fun to go around. I impressed them all by getting up out of my ER bed to walk over to my new one. CF was given a chair and we were left in a small "room" enclosed by a curtain. Various in-laws called CF's phone. "No mom, you shouldn't come here, we're inside a curtain and besides, you shouldn't ever set foot in a hospital unless totally necessary." (Long story.) My chemist brother-in-law grilled CF on what they had done, what they were doing, and what they planned to do. It seemed rather comical, but just in case I also confirmed with CF that BIL did approve. When twin brother-in-law called CF teased him, "We're sorry, you're the last W to call." "That makes him the winner!" "Oh, I've been informed that you're the winner, congratulations." I can't blame them for reacting more strongly than my family. They've had a lot more experiences with hospitals involved and most of them unhappy ones.

Warning, if you don't want to hear about my underwear than skip this paragraph! I was informed that if I wanted to keep my underwear I'd best not wear them into surgery. By the way, I thought about regretting my choice of polka dots on purple but decided it helped to keep things light and fun since so many people were getting to see them. Mary said she'd take care of me, and brought me a fun pair of white boyshorts. I got the IV hanger with wheels set up so I could walk down to the bathroom. Looking for a place set my own undies as I cautiously got changed I couldn't find a single surface I wanted to use. I looked up and decided to hang them on my new friend, the IV hanger. This is where I discovered the hospital issues underwear resembled white fishnet. Sassy! Then I started to go for the door, but luckily remembered the lovely polka dotted flag I had flying up over head. Hadn't enough people seen them already today without me putting them on display like that? I grabbed them down and headed back to bed. Hmmm, fishnet underwear, not comfy to lay on.

Bless his heart, CF knows how to keep me distracted. He had brought his laptop and wireless internet card. So there we were online in the hospital bed. "Let's change my Facebook status! That'll be hilarious!" And that's when it hit me. Obviously I wouldn't be making it to DD's last spin class the next morning. Damn. CF helped me email him. "Looks like I won't be making it to your last spin class tomorrow morning. Also looks like I had appendicitis in your class yesterday morning. I'll miss you!" I hoped he'd find it amusing. CF had talked to the girls at my store and they had started clearing me off the schedule. He had also emailed a bunch of our friends. The subject of the email was just my name. Later Ms. JH would complain to me that he shouldn't be sending out emails titled as such, she thought I was dead. Not yet, dear!

The anaesthesiologist came in to introduce himself. Now, they had put me on a scale for a second when I came in, so maybe he had looked at my chart and decided to flatter me. Or maybe it's a good thing he checked with me, because he asked if I weighed about 150. "Oh dear, no!" That's what I said! I wish I had taken any drugs at that point that I could blame that sort of language on. I set him straight and he went on his merry way. Eventually the surgeon himself paid me a visit to explain what was going to happen. The surgery would be attempted laparoscopically. Meaning no big incision, just three little ones, one at my belly button and two lower. He went through all the information which led us to the surgery and what my options were. I imagine this is because people have been awful about things after the fact saying they weren't told what was going on. He really did fill me in on everything going on. He told me, they could still be wrong at this point. They could get in there and the appendix could be fine. He was going to take it out anyway since he was already going to be in the area. But then we'd be back to square one with the pain. "You really don't even look like someone with appendicitis, even acute."

"It's so nice to have a healthy patient!" Everyone in the operating room nodded to agree with whoever had just said this. This was the second point in the day that I started to get a bit upset and scared. I hate the moment just before the bad stuff goes down. The anaesthesiologist informed me he'd be giving me three drugs and what each one would make me feel. I got distracted for a second by them putting my arms out to the side and then I turned my head back to him and said, "Are we already on to the second drug?" "I've already given you all three." "Oh good, because wooaaah! I thought for a second..." and that's where I black out, trying to make a joke about being a lightweight.

My eyes opened. The moment seemed a little too familiar. Like waking up after a night of too much drinking. Oh god, what did I do? Oh no, now I'm going to feel like crap. I whimpered a little, finally miserable, it had taken all day. Tina, the Recovery nurse, came to check on me. She asked if I was nauseous or in pain. How was I supposed to know? I could barely see or think straight. I told her maybe a little bit of both just to get her off my case. "Was it appendicitis? Was it infected?" I had suddenly remembered that this was left a bit up in the air. "I can't tell you that, the doctor will come talk to you." Well that sucks. Now I'm miserable and uninformed! She told me just to breathe and wiped the gunk out of my eye (they put stuff in there to keep them from drying out). I concentrated on some long yoga breaths, thinking it might help me relax, I was in hell! A machine started beeping wildly and she told me to breathe faster. Funny, it didn't like my yoga breathing. I don't know how long this went on but every time I slowed down into nice relaxing breaths the machine yelled at me. "Can I move my legs? My back is really uncomfortable." "Yeah, it's great if you can move." I just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to hurt myself, I used my legs to flatten my back out, whatever I was laying on had no give to make room for the booty. "Do you at least feel better now?" she asked me. "Umm, no, I was just a little uncomfortable when I got here this morning and now I'm miserable!" I think I offended her. Sorry Tina.

Eventually they wheeled me out of Recovery and I saw CF. I grilled him and found out that the doctor had indeed said that my appendix looked infected. Whew! I had to wriggle over from the gurney to my hospital bed. It was a struggle but it was well worth it. The sun hadn't even set, the view from my room was actually quite lovely and reminded me that I wasn't too far from home. I have neglected to mention that my legs had been plastic wrapped most of this rather hot day. When in bed they hook the wraps up to a machine that inflates and deflates them, to massage and prevent blood clots. I had been annoyed as they made my legs sweat, but that night they felt really good. CF stayed for a while longer and read me emails from concerned friends. My nurse, Gwen, told me to get some sleep and then try to go for a walk, but I felt bad sleeping while he was there since he was going to go home for the night. He went home around 9. I sent my father a text message thanking him for sleeping upright in a chair the night I was in the hospital at age 12. I was fine being alone tonight though. I watched a little television, but was annoyed with the lack of Tivo features. Finally I went to sleep.

I woke up a little after midnight. I was roasting hot, why had they put this blanket over me? I got rid of the offending extra warmth and wondered if it was too late to go for that walk. I pressed the button to call for a nurse. Micoy was on duty now, he said I didn't have to walk tonight if I just wanted to sleep. I told him I hadn't eaten anything since 7am. "Oh wow! Well, what sounds good? I have jello, pudding, crackers." "Yes." Awful jello and unsalted Saltines have never tasted so good. After a nice little snack I decided just to go back to sleep.

The next morning I decided it was time to walk. Micoy was a little distracted, "Ok, go for it." I was barefoot and my hospital gown was not tied in the back. I decided to just go with it and grabbed the back and held it close. "Oh, you need some socks! Why didn't you get those last night?" "I was hot!" So at least my feet were covered. I made it about one step out the door before he realized I was holding on for dear modesty. "Oh, let's get you another gown for the back!" So now I was on track, and I went for my little walk. Right around the corner was labor and delivery. I didn't want to get in the way, and didn't want to get lost, so I turned around and came back. I didn't know it at the time but I saw my next nurse, Kristin arrive. I did a few little laps and went back to bed. I ate a bland but much appreciated breakfast sitting on the edge of my bed. CF joined me and we waited for the doctor to come give me the green light to go home.

It was a couple of hours and another walk before he came by. "Ready to go home?" You betchya! Kristin gave me some instructions and a vicodin for the road. She sent CF to get the car and together she and I walked out of the hospital. I thanked her, and sent good thoughts of thanks to everyone I had come into contact with in the last 24+ hours. Everyone was so nice, so helpful. I hope they get appreciated enough.

When I got dressed Wednesday morning I didn't say to myself, "I think I'll have me some surgery today, I'd be dress in loose clothing." So I got to ride home in unbuttoned denim capris. I quickly changed into a sundress and planted myself on the futon at home. Thank goodness for plenty of television to catch up with. It was the most miserably hot day the peninsula had seen in a long time, and there I was, stuck at home not wanting to move. CF hid out downstairs where it's about 10 degrees cooler but there was no where to lay down, so I stayed upstairs. Eventually I took a cold shower to get the grime off of me and to cool down. I felt a million times better after that.

The next couple days were also hot but not nearly as bad. CF worked from home Thursday and Friday so we were together for the long weekend. By Saturday morning I realized I could go twice as long as I needed to without taking another vicodin so I figured I'd get off the narcotics and switched to Advil. We even went to the San Mateo Farmers' Market, my bloated belly sticking out under my sundress, I'm sure I looked more pregnant than hurt. My mother-in-law came over to check on us and nearly fell on the floor when she saw me up and about. She was speechless because she has basically never had a procedure done that wasn't followed with every major complication possible. The power of positive thinking, I say. I have a lot to do this summer! I don't have time for this to slow me down for longer than necessary.

I've read up on what Mary (the fun short-stay nurse) had called a "lapy appy." Apparently they inflated my belly with gas to give them more room to see/work. And it appears to take quite some time for the bloating to go away. Here I am, most of a week later and I still look a bit pregnant. I waddled around the grocery store yesterday and by the time I came home I was a bit sore from jiggling around so much. Still, it's better than recovering from a regular appendectomy! I read online that people with certain health problems do not make good laparoscopic candidates. Obese people were on this list, which in a weird sick way makes me so proud to have had my lapy appy.

We're still going camping this weekend. I figure I can just stay put in my chair and I won't shake things up too much. The girl who doesn't even like camping has just become the person most adamant to go. Well, let's not go too far. I can think of a few things that could tear me away. But seeing how we won't be around to camp next year, I am looking forward to spending this time with my friends.

As far as my other group of friends, my coworkers, it looks like I have been torn away from my last days of work. The surgeon said no work for two weeks, and everyone agrees that returning for a few days would be useless. I'd be caught up in time just to be done. I'm feeling a bit sad about this. I didn't get to wrap things up, I didn't get to pass along the lessons I've learned... I'm not sure anyone would have been listening. But it would have been nice to try. So I'm robbed of my closure. It leave the past year feeling a little bittersweet. This job brought me back to the real world, to "real life." And now it's time to shake things up, and move on to what I want life to be.

Now this is not what I signed up for!

Monday was a long day, my back ached and I felt a little bit off most of the day. I had one god awful night of sleep. I had managed to miss an entire week of early morning spin classes, and it's always hard to get back into the routine. I didn't sleep well, I kept waking up wondering if it was time to get up and get dressed for the gym. Finally my alarm went off, I was sad, it was DD's last week of teaching (except for the ridiculously early Monday morning class). My stomach was upset, I figured it was the lack of good rest and maybe the couple of store bought cookies I mindlessly noshed on at work the day before had disagreed with me. I made myself get up and go to class.

I know I'll still see him, I know he's not really quitting, but it really is the end of an era. DD is a fabulous teacher and is everything exercise needs to be in order to be fun. If more people were like him, maybe I wouldn't know so many people who hate exercise. I made it through class just fine, told him I'd see him Thursday and got home so CF and I could have some breakfast.

Once he was on his way to work I actually dozed off for a minute on the bed, so sleepy! Ms. D was coming over pretty soon though so I knew I had to get a shower. We had a pretty mellow day ahead of us, I figured I'd be fine. She and I ran some errands (including getting a large bottle of vodka so I could start a new batch of limoncello) and then headed to Redwood City for lunch. We decided to try the lunch platters at Red Lantern (the sight of the fabulous Yelp party I was lucky enough to attend a couple months ago). Really I had selected this place for lunch so we could get dessert next door at Pamplemousse. French macaroons!!! We indulged in a nice baker's dozen and took the box to go. At home we picked a ton of lemons and I started to peel them. I use a vegetable peeler and while I get a tiny bit of the bitter, white pith included, it's never hurt my final product! I started standing at the counter, but found myself feeling so weak that I decided to sit down to finish stripping the lemons. We sat around discussing future travel plans of all sorts, her going to Alaska, me going to Zurich, and us going all kinds of places in Europe when she comes over to visit. I was feeling increasingly weighed down and slow. She suggested another round of coffees, I headed to the kitchen and turned on the machine. Woah! I held on tight for a second while a slight dizzy spell hit me. I figured I'd have the caffeine and be fine, maybe I'd need a nap before I finished my writing assignment after D headed back to Davis. I felt bad for being such a bore, it was our last day of hanging out just by ourselves until November at least. I tried to shake it off!

After she left I did indeed pass out for about a half an hour. Then I sat wriggling around in the chaise as I completed my writing homework. I thought if I could just stretch the right muscle, or lean the right way, I might get some relief from the discomfort that was now wearing me out. I thought about the workout I had scheduled for the morning and wondered if it was too late to cancel with LT. I sent her a text message describing how I felt and warned her that I might need to cancel. She said to let her know by 8:30am the next day and she didn't mind the extra time in the morning if I couldn't handle it. It took me a long time to complete the assignment, but I finally got it posted on the class website.

I had a hard time falling asleep. I was restless and uncomfortable. I was extremely irritated when I woke up and still didn't feel right! Ugh! I had no appetite but ate a small piece of toast with CF for breakfast around 7am. Finally a little after 8 I made the call to LT. She asked if the pain was moving lower and to the right, I told her it was low but centered. But I started to wonder. She told me not to come in, that she wouldn't charge me for the session and to call the doctor. So then I call the doctor's office and describe what's happening. I switched away from that awful doctor I had last Fall, but I hadn't been in to meet the new one! I was a bit pleased that I'd be getting the chance. As the advice nurse asked me questions I started to wonder if the pain wasn't actually moving to the right. Oh no. She said I could either make an appointment there or I could go straight to Urgent Care in Palo Alto. I didn't really want to go to Palo Alto so I took the appointment. Then she said the doctor would be coming in to the office soon and she'd call me back sooner if she thought I should do something sooner than coming to my appointment.

I hung up and decided to get a shower. We were supposed to be taking CF's mom out to dinner in San Francisco later that night. We had a reservation at Kokkari, a Greek restaurant I've been wanting to try for quite some time. I thought I might wear a dress so I took the time to shave my legs and everything. But when I got out of the shower I found two voicemails from nurses at the doctor's office telling me to go to the Emergency Room! Ugh! I really had no idea what was going on here, I didn't want to end up unprepared for the rest of the day. So I took a few extra minutes putting myself together, yes, I did my makeup before driving myself to the ER! I called CF and told him where I was going, but said not to bother coming there until we knew it something bad was actually happening. And that was how I ended up walking solo into the Emergency Room door and announcing, "I was told I should come here! What's next?" I went through triage, not much pain, no nausea, I had almost gone to the gym! But that nurse sent me to get registered. That was when they gave me a wrist band. And suddenly I didn't think it was very funny anymore. I updated CF and still told him to wait for more news.

The ER nurse and doctor were very nice. I made jokes about it being the calmest emergency ever, but that the blood test was an awful birthday present. I tried to explain that it didn't hurt much but was responding to movement and was increasingly lower and more tender. I thought it might be some sort of "female" problem and explained how the last several years of weight loss have totally messed with my hormones at times. Finally Dr. MacGregor just said what I had been denying all morning, "It's probably appendicitis." Damn it. I asked to borrow a phone since I had shut down my mobile. I told CF it was time for him to come join me now.

They told me I had to drink some liquid that would dye my insides so the CAT scan would show everything better. The nurse, Caitlin, brought three cups of the stuff, one with a paper umbrella, "Cocktails!" She joked. I was thirsty so it actually wasn't hard to drink it all. But then there was nothing to do but wait two hours for the stuff to work it's way in enough so they could do the scan. I laid there alone and scared, suddenly feeling ridiculously stupid for telling CF to wait. The ER had been empty when I arrived but most of the beds were filling in now. Each one with someone in way worse of a state than me. I wriggled my bare toes around trying to think of some way out of this mess. "Fucking Lost!" I cursed in my head. Caitlin and Dr. MacGregor would reappear from time to time to bring little bits of news, I'd blink away tears and shake my head in acknowledgment. The doctor told me my white blood cell count wasn't elevated like it should be with appendicitis, but that didn't mean that I was off the hook quite yet.

It wasn't too much longer before CF was there and I relaxed a bit. Quite a lot actually. I let him distract me and we made snarky comments about whether we were on Scrubs or Grey's Anatomy. He made a joke about Jack's recent jungle appendectomy on Lost, he offered to hold the mirror so I could watch. I glared at him and asked if he really thought Lost wasn't one of the first things on my mind when this whole thing started going down. He should know me better than that!

Finally it was time for my CAT scan. To my surprise they didn't have me get up and into a wheel chair, let alone just let me walk there, they wheeled me over there in my ER bed! Little did they know the most painful thing I had going on right then was the IV in my right arm. Melody was my no-nonsense x-ray nurse. She made sure I had drank the dye and then explained that they would be injecting me with another dye right before the scan. She said it would feel kind of funny, it makes you feel warm, a lot of people feel it in their throats. She kind of smirked and said, "You might feel like you're wetting your pants, you're not." And then she got me hooked up to the freaky injection machine and the fun began. It started in my shoulders but hit my throat quickly just like she said it would, and yes, sure enough, I would have sworn I had wet my pants. Good times. The machine was very impressive, I was relieved that it wasn't a long skinny tube I had to go inside. More of a giant hoop I was sort of levitating through. And within the giant hoop there was an inner hoop spinning that made a loud rushing sound. "Take a deep breath... hold it," a recorded voice instructed. I slid through the ring. "Breathe!" It was sort of anti-climactic. That was it? Yep, that's it.

They wheeled me back to the ER and I stared up at the ceiling. So weirded out by the situation. The hospital's long hallway somehow made me think of the space in the Veteran's Memorial Theater building behind the stage. It's not entirely unlikely that it's because I was already flashing back to younger days, I hadn't been in the hospital since I was 12. I just don't do the dramatic stuff like this! They slid my bed right back next to the chair that CF was waiting in. He had been making phone calls while I was gone, and now the families had been alerted. I told him that I was done with this, changed my mind, can we go home now? I wondered what the chances were that the doctor would come tell me this was all just a big mistake and I'd be just fine. Really I knew better than that and I wasn't surprised at all when Dr. MacGregor told me that the radiologist was quoted as saying "I don't care!" when he was informed of my white blood cell count. He knew a "hot belly" when he saw one. He said something about a "strong constitution" and "walking around with appendicitis since yesterday." Should I remind him I went to spin class with it? Nah. Surgery was being scheduled for just a few hours from then.

Just what I wanted... continued.

The day after my birthday turned out to be a much more lively day. Ms. D has been giving bike tours in Napa Valley and a group of us had managed to find a day to hire her for our own entertainment. It was Mother's Day, and even though I knew she'd understand if my mom wasn't included in my plans for the day, I had invited her to come along. It was biking, it was wine, I knew she'd love it. There was at least one other mom that considered coming too, but mine ended up being the group's only mother for the day. I hadn't been on a real bike, riding outdoors, since Ireland. But I got the hang of it again soon enough. We had a great time biking around to different wineries. Our first stop was Baldacci, where we had actually been before when CM worked there and we were on our way to the French Laundry for an anniversary dinner. It was a great first stop, the hostess there treated us extremely well and actually managed to tell this group of UC Davis alumni a few things that they had never heard about wine! Next we biked over to Ragusci and enjoyed some more good wine, as well as their olive oil. We had to fight against the wind to get over to Laird, but our reward was a fab little lunch that D's support driver had laid out for us. The last winery was Hopper Creek, they had us sit out on the patio with the vineyards stretching out all around us. They had some great music playing on the radio (though KZ may disagree with me), they brought us chocolate to pair with the Merlot (I never knew how to do red wine and chocolate together so right), and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

In the midst of all this bliss CF says to me, "Why are we leaving California?" I felt a little sick to my stomach, just for a second. Oh no, we shouldn't be doing this! What were we thinking?!? Then I remembered we're not really leaving, it'll be good for us, it's a chance to try something different without having to commit to the change. And when the year is over we'll come back to California and it will seem all the sweeter! Don't scare me like that, CF!

We returned our bikes to the shop, a few people departed, the rest of us freshened up a bit and we headed to our reservation for dinner at Bistro Jeanty. The restaurant is casual, but the food is amazing! We shared dishes around quite a bit. Their pastry topped tomato soup is famous, but I actually enjoyed the chalkboard written additions even more. I got to try the caramelized onion tart and the fried smelt. You guessed it, CF ordered the fried smelt, I suspect just because it was fun to say. But it was a great pick! For dinner I had mussels in red wine, I usually enjoy them in white wine so this was different, but fantastic. For dessert I ended up splitting a strawberry cream pie with PZ while mom split a lemon tart with Ms. D and CF enjoyed bread pudding of his own. The pie was very tasty! It was topped with a huge mint leaf, which is always nice to finish off a dessert with, the minty freshness stuck with me the rest of the evening.

CF and I headed home and tried to get organized for the week. My week of just being was over, it was time to reel in my behavior and get back to good habits. I got to bed early so I could get up and run before work again. Somehow I thought it would be hard to get through my half hour run, but I was pleased to see I still had it! I used the morning to work on my first assignment for my writing class at the Borders near my store. It sort of made it feel like I was at work all day long, but at least I got the work done and out of the way so I could spend the next day hanging out with Ms. D.

Just what I wanted.

Life has been nothing if not interesting lately, the initial shock and excitement of our future European adventure has led to tantalizing thoughts but frustration with so much to plan and figure out. I gave notice at work but I think the end of the month feels so far away that nothing too much changed. I felt stuck between the instinct to not take on anything new, and knowing that there was still plenty of time for most projects. I gave myself a week to just sort of "be" without expecting too much from myself.

Oddly enough, this week of just being led right up to my birthday. I have to say, I have never managed to think so little about my birthday. This year though, I was a little distracted. Yet, late last week the birthday wishes started pouring in. Cards, text messages, phone calls, emails, and Facebook wall posts all found their way to me. It was nice to have other people remind me for once. CF and I hadn't had a day at home together in, well, a month or more. So all I wanted for my birthday was to spend a day together, doing as little as possible. Considering it was our one free day together, we had unfortunately planned to work on remodeling our downstairs bathroom, yet due to the fact that I was almost done with my job CF announced that his birthday gift to me was that we didn't have to do that! So we slept in a bit, and then got ready for the Farmers' Market. We decided to get breakfast from our favorite bakery, Brioche, we had always wanted to get more than just our one loaf of wheat bread and now we had the perfect excuse!

This bakery always has a crowd and a wait, so we headed straight there. The line was longer than ever, we were getting there later in the morning and the weather was lovely. As we waited a rather posh looking older woman walked by, presumably heading towards the end of the line. "Ohhh, I don't want to be in this line!" she protested and then turned around and walked away. I waited a second but then said pretty loudly, "Uhh, yeah, you do!" but I don't think she heard me. Brioche is totally worth waiting for, even if it's just for a loaf of wheat bread. Besides, hadn't she ever heard to follow the crowds at farmers markets? They had never let me down. Soon enough it was our turn to order, a slice of quiche and a croissant, please! "Un crossiant?" The man behind the bread asked us. You can tell we've been together a long time because later we both admitted the same snarky thought went through our heads, we thought the man was being snooty with his French pronunciation. But once he counted our change back to us in French we realized that actually we had just purchased a pastry from a real Frenchman. We headed over to the other side of the market, we needed some coffee to complete our breakfast. Along the way I suddenly bubbled over with giddiness: "Think of all the markets we'll go to next year!!!" We had a little bit of trouble finding a good place to eat, we ended up crouching on a curb a little bit out of the way, but it didn't make this birthday breakfast any less perfect. I think that was the best croissant I've ever had in the States. We took home lots of great looking produce. For lunch we had our first caprese salad of the year, and grilled prosciutto wrapped asparagus. Delicious! We did very little else the rest of the day.

Oh, by the way...

I got accepted into the writing class the following day. I'm not really sure how big of an accomplishment it is, maybe they accept everyone when it's only a week before the class begins and there's still room. Still, I was thrilled to get in to a class intended for professional journalists. Even if I don't find a way to get paid for my travel writing I think I will learn a lot that I can put to use over the next year and into the future. Class starts this Thursday. I will let you know how it goes!

Life turned upside down!

OK... where do I begin?

It seems like forever ago now, but I think it was actually only a week or two ago that CF and I were chatting online for a minute while he was at work and he said he had a random question for me. He wanted to know what I would say if we had the possibility of spending a year in Zurich for work. Without much thought at all I answered I was interested. And life went on, I tried not to think about it, there was so many other things that would have to get approved before CF would get this assignment. It probably wouldn't happen. A couple of years ago there was the possibility of joining the Dublin team for one year. Which turned out badly for the people who did go, so we've never regretted not doing that. Not too long ago six-months in Australia was brought up. CF turned that down for a number of reasons. I had gotten used to these possibilities coming up and mostly just going away.

I asked myself why I had said yes. I liked the idea of making a big change. I felt relieved that I might have a big excuse to leave my current job (I love it yet I knew it was holding me back at this point). I thought maybe I could figure out what I really want in life if "existing circumstances" and outside influences went away for a while. On the phone with the life coach I've worked with a bit in the past month I realized something... I could easily decide what to do with the second half of my year without knowing where I might be spending it. I realized it was time to leave my job. I would spend the summer exploring options and possibilities and start over in the Fall with new direction and purpose. I decided to give notice last Tuesday.

Tuesday morning I woke up early and went to spin. My favorite spin teacher played a mash-up of moody Snow Patrol guitar with Mary J. Blige proclaiming "My life's just fine!" and I started to feel a little overwhelmed with what the day had in store for me. Then said favorite spin teacher casually mentions that he won't be teaching spin anymore after May 15th except one class a week! My jaw was basically on the floor, or at least dragging on the pedals. I come home and on chat Ms. ShoppingsMyCardio tells me she's moving to Portland... next week. Tuesday was trying to knock me down with all the change! I told CF that with the way the day was already going I needed to have a good cry before going to work or else I would cry when I told them I was leaving.

As part of my summer of exploration I had started looking for classes to make sure I was trying new things. I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for, but when I found the introduction to travel writing I knew right away it was a good idea. I've been wondering about the field since I blogged my way through Europe last Fall. I had decided to sign up for the class and then noticed that a letter of interest was required and you have to be accepted to get in. I tried to banish mental pictures of me sitting at home next Fall with no job and no writing class. I hoped I wasn't rushing into anything. First things first, apply for the class and see what happens. As I worked on writing my application letter CF called me. I wondered what was up, he doesn't usually call me from work. "Whatcha doing?" "Writing my letter of interest for that class I want to take." "Oh, I was just in a long, long meeting." "Oh yeah? Ummm, great dear." "I'm happy to report, we're going to Zurich."

Oh. My. God.

What are the chances that the news would come on the very day that I was already planning to give notice? How funny that this would happen as I applied for the travel writing class? How much change could happen in one 24 hour period? My goodness. So, let's just say that the good cry was well taken care of before I left for work. At that point there was no denying the need to mourn the sudden death of life as I knew it. I finished my application to the class, pulled myself together as much as possible, and hit the road. As I crossed the street to my shop I felt like my legs were going to fall out from under me. The construction wall around the space two doors down from us is emblazoned with inspirational sayings, it shouted at me: "DO IT NOW, DO IT NOW, DO IT NOW." OK! I'm going in there to quit right now, you don't need to yell! The moment I walked in the door my manager knew something was up. I was in this nervous state, half laughing hysterically and half wanting to pass out or throw up. I asked if she'd come talk to me in her office and she had figured out I was leaving before we even got there. "Oh nooooo!" I heard behind me, just as I had imagined I would. But having the Zurich plan be a reality gave me a solid reason, one that she could really accept and she went straight into being excited for me. She told me a story about her husband being asked to relocate to Paris in less than a month, their kids were young and she didn't speak French, she panicked and he turned down the opportunity. She said they've regretted it ever since. I started to feel a bit less numb as I took the lesson learned to heart, if I don't do this I'd regret it forever!

Poor KM had been left to manage the store while we went and talked. She asked me what was up and I told her I shouldn't talk to her about it on the sales floor. We waited for a lull and I said, "You want to go talk?" And she said, "Yeah, because I think I'm going to throw up if we don't." She had basically figured it out too. Telling KM was a bit more bittersweet because we'll miss each other like crazy. Funny thing is, now that I won't be working for the store in June I can go to her wedding. And we probably stand a better chance of both being available to socialize with one of us not working at the same store. There are 12 working hours of 6 days a week and just a few hours less on the 7th. It's always been hard to do anything together outside of the work place.

Telling people the big news went on from there. It's still not over. Some of you might be hearing the news for the first time in reading this. The one thing that scares me terribly about what this year will be like is missing my friends and family. So please, please, please, send me emails and/or blog comments. I want to see everyone before we go (probably August or September) and I want to hear from you as much as possible. And also... please let me know if travel plans will bring you to Europe. I am counting on visitors! I will continue to work in San Jose till the end of May, and then I'm going to spend the summer taking some classes, remodeling the destroyed bathroom, and spending time with all the people I will miss so much while we're away. After we go I don't think I will find employment there so I need ideas and advice as I build a list of projects and goals to keep me busy. Who knows, maybe I will find some success in freelancing as a travel writer or photographer. I've been practicing for a long time now, as anyone reading this blog would know.

There's so much more I could write about what's going on in my head right now. But I don't want to scare you. Let's just leave it at this for now: Wow, it's going to be amazing!