365 DISCOVERIES

At the end of a long day someone once asked me, "What did you discover?" instead of the standard,"How are you?" or "What did you do this week?" I thought it might be interesting to write them down, one discovery at a time over the course of one year. This is my 365 day challenge.

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Discovery, Day 365: Of Wisdom Teeth and Writing and 365.

This week I’m painfully aware of my wisdom teeth. Three are fully grown in. Just one is still trying to push its way to the surface, and has half made an appearance. The gums covering the other half now may be infected, causing a lot of tenderness and and ache running from my jaw to my forehead. 

They’re called wisdom teeth because they grow in late, once most people have developed some semblance of maturity. Those who found out I still have all mine were surprised—apparently I’m part of a minority. My grandfather died with all his wisdom teeth, so it’s never seemed unusual to me, but I did notice a time when many of my friends were on an ice cream recovery diet.

Am I any wiser with all three (and a half) wisdom teeth still intact? Probably not. I’ve always felt older than my age, but wise? I think I have a long way to go.

I do know this: writing every day has been invaluable to me. I can’t recommend it enough. It’s difficult, for sure. The evidence is in my sometimes lackluster or uninspired writing, and in the two month hiatus I took at the end of the year. What matters is I learned something, and true to my mission statement at the beginning of this 365 day project, I actually opened my eyes and took a look around. 

That was the point. I wanted to open myself up to new experiences and new challenges. I did just that, by quitting my old job and jumping headlong into freelancing. I found a job I genuinely enjoy, and can finally see myself making a career out of it.

As for finding something to be passionate about…well, I can’t say the show I’m working on is awe-inspiring. What I have realized is that over this past year, I’ve largely ignored narrative feature films. My focus has been on documentaries, and given the choice to watch a movie, I choose a documentary over narrative 90% of the time. 

I think I’m on the right path.

Reality television isn’t exactly documentary, but it’s getting closer. In a few years I may have enough connections and enough know-how to produce and direct a documentary on my own. I’m not in any rush, because my ideas are still very small, and I don’t know how I would execute them just yet. I have time to research and investigate and watch more documentary films.

Wow. I feel surprisingly good right now (minus the throbbing in my tooth). When I started writing over 365 days ago, I didn’t really know if I could pull it off. I didn’t really know if it would mean anything. 

Somewhere along the way my life began to make a little more sense. It’s not perfect, and I know there are things I could do better (cough, BALANCE, cough), but it’s a start. A few weeks away from my quarter century crisis, and I feel like I know what I’m doing. 

At the close of this very long winded, 365 day journey, I want to thank the 92 followers and miscellaneous readers who have inadvertently supported me by reading my work. I’m still amazed I had any followers at all. And honestly, you kept me writing. I didn’t want to disappoint.

I’m signing off for the time being, to focus on my work and my personal life. I feel pretty strongly that I’ll soon have a new Tumblr page (one that won’t require daily updates) devoted to documentary film and television. If you’re so inclined to read it, I will make sure to post here with the URL.

Until then, farewell.

(Photo: Hagerstownsmiles.com)

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Discovery, Day 364: Flaws.

My mom will sometimes point out my flaws. She doesn't do it to make me feel bad or rub my nose in my habits. Rather, she addresses them. They may never change, but as long as I know they're there and make tiny adjustments when I can, I'll be better off. She knows this. I know this. 

I'm the first to acknowledge that I have a difficult time speaking up for myself. I typically take a side step, push my own needs to the back burner in favor of making things easier or more convenient for others. At work, this means I can't bring myself to ask for a day off or a little leniency to schedule a doctor's appointment. In my personal life, this means I let my friends decide where we eat or what we do for the evening. 

Complacency for harmony, that's all it takes. Giving a little so no arguments break out, so a decision is made more quickly.

I do everything I can to avoid confrontation. I hate confrontation. I will dance around a hot topic just so I don't have to face it head on. I let it simmer beneath the surface, keep it contained to the point where I feel as if I might boil over. I add stress to my own life by keeping my mouth shut.

It's all because I'm afraid. I'm afraid to make things difficult. I'm afraid to speak my mind, because I'm afraid to inconvenience people, to irritate people, to hurt people. 

Worst of all, I'm a quitter. 

On the surface you wouldn't think so. After all, I spent two years toiling away at a job I disliked because I didn't want to let anybody down. But the truth of it is, if I'm not good at something, I decide not to do it anymore. I've been this way my whole life. Even in elementary school, I gave up on after school sports because I wasn't good enough.

This morning, while driving in my car, I thought about the feature film script I had begun reworking over the summer. It's been months since I went near it, and the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to reapproach the subject. Why would I, anyway? The idea wasn't that great, and it's several years old to begin with. What's the point?

The point is, once again, I'm afraid. I'm the story, the characters, the writing might be bad. I don't believe I'm a creative enough person. Isn't that why I gave up on directing? On writing original stories? So I stick to the things I am good at. Collecting information, organizing it, presenting it in a rational and clear cut way. That's all fine and good, but am I selling myself short? I won't know unless I give myself a chance. 

I don't think I can. 

(Photo: Colourbox.com)

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Discovery, Day 363: I don't know what to do.

Four and a half months have passed since I took this job, and now things are finally slowing down. My days in the office are filled with less and less paperwork, and our staff is slowly disappearing. Soon there will only be a few of us left.

I'm here for ten hours a day, so I try to be useful. I'm still dealing with the premiere party and the ever-expanding guest list. But aside from hounding people for RSVPs, I can only twiddle my thumbs and browse Buzzfeed.

When I get home, it's even worse. I've been walking in my front door by 7:30pm, and with an entire evening ahead of me I stumble about aimlessly. I do a little yoga, nibble on something small for dinner, then binge on Doctor Who. I watch the hours slip by slowly, then call it quits early and go to sleep. 

I have to resume the old ways. Cooking more, hanging with friends during the week after work, catching up with old co-workers. I'll go mad with boredom if I don't. 

What is the saying... the grass is greener on the other side? All I wanted last month was 2 hours to do my laundry. This month, I'm longing for a 10pm wrap time followed by a 5:30am wake up call.

Dare I say it? I miss being busy... 

(Photo: Thecomicssection.blogspot.com)

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Discovery, Day 362: The Winter Olympics.

I'm fascinated by The Olympics. Every two years, alternating between summer and winter, I feel hopelessly patriotic. I want to root for the U.S. of A. in every event, in the spirit of the competition. And yet, it's a way to connect with the world. It's a wonderful thing that thousands of people from hundreds of different countries can come together and peacefully participate in the games, all disputes and differences aside.

This year's Winter Olympics in Sochi have a shadow cast over them. It started with Putin's persecution of gay citizens in Russia. The backlash in his country and many others around the world was massive--and yet he held his ground, until numerous countries threatened to boycott the games. Now he's stated that the games will be safe for gay athletes, and has taken other steps to improve Russia's image, such as releasing Russian political activists, including the two members of Pussy Riot now fighting for human rights in Russian prison. 

It's too little, too late. The Olympics promise a massive boost to Russia's tourism, but they first have to deal with their own safety. Car bombs and suspicious deaths have so far stayed out of Sochi's borders, but have affected major cities within a 200 mile vicinity, cities that would be a traveler's gateway to Sochi. 

The U.S. government has taken a quieter approach to their protest. Neither the POTUS nor FLOTUS will attend the opening ceremonies, for the first time in many years. More than one (three, in fact) members of the U.S. Olympic Delegation to Sochi are gay. Then there's NBC, the network that has sworn it won't be Putin's "PR tool" during their coverage of the ceremonies.

I'm waiting to see what will happen when the athletes arrive. I fully expect to see displays of gay pride all over the place, in the form of rainbow flags and speeches and public displays of affection. Putin will be in a tough spot--if he objects to anything, he'll be destroyed by gay-friendly countries.

But once The Olympics are over, and everyone leaves, what's to stop him from cracking down? Nothing. The U.S. sure as hell won't get involved. The U.N. is merely a figurehead. Seeing as how royally we screwed up international relations these past twelve years, few countries will want to be actively involved The people of Russia will have to fight for themselves. 

(Photo: Strategiceventdesign.com)

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Discovery, Day 361: DIY.

I am the ultimate DIY-er. By that, I mean I DIY very little at all. Sure, I've picked up a few life hacks here and there, but I don't get much mileage out of them.

My most recent DIY project was to make a coaster out of a floppy disk I found in my old office. It was really half assed--I didn't have sticky felt or anything, so I used double sided wall tape and scraps of fabric from the sewing kit under my bed. After three months of use, the label is peeling and there are water stains everywhere. I have a coaster though.

Then there was the plastic bag in the old clorox wipes container trick. It's exactly like it sounds. When all the clorox wipes are gone, clean it out and fill it with plastic shopping bags. I have one in my bathroom and another in my bedroom. Donezo.

In the unexpected downtime I've had the past couple days, I've spent a great deal of time browsing Pinterest, specifically in the Home Decor section. I keep stumbling across projects I'd like to do myself, if I had the time and the resources. The top three on my wish list are:

1. DIY Burner Covers -- where you take two heavy duty wooden cutting boards, add sturdy legs, and place them over the burners on your stove for easy access cutting and additional counter space.

2. DIY Vanity Table -- take an old thrift shop desk, sand and paint it, and a large thrift shop mirror. Hang the mirror on the wall over the desk and add your own lighting. 

3. DIY Headboard -- a variation on a DIY Sofa Table, where you fashion a small table to go behind your bed with shelf and surface storage. Sand and paint to any look/color.

If I ever had a studio apartment, I'd like to come up with some funky ideas for dividing the space. Everyone's seen the Ikea bookshelf room divider, so what if I added fabric to one side for additional coverage? What if I made my own patchwork curtain? Or use wardrobe racks and my own clothes as a divider?

The nice thing about Pinterest is I can pin what I like and come back to it later. Some things I would want in my future home, others I'd like to adapt for the space I'm currently in. Either way, there's no rush to get to it right away.

I'd like to make a home for myself that isn't just Ikea furniture. Many of these DIY projects go a long way to take inexpensive pieces and add a personal flair. I like the idea of having something entirely unique and unexpected. It's now just a matter of having the time to do them.

(Photo: Thekitchn.com)

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Discovery, Day 360: "Day Off."

Today was my "day off." I say that lightly, because it didn't really feel like one. Granted, I got to sleep in an hour later and eat breakfast and lunch whenever I damn well pleased, but my day wasn't devoted to relaxation, and my phone never stopped "ping"-ing. 

It started off slowly enough. I took a shower and headed over to the Rite Aid and Trader Joe's to get some much needed shopping done. It was about that time the work-related texts began, then the emails, needing immediate response. They came in waves--every couple hours picking up again, usually while I was in the middle of something else. 

I was grateful to have the day, even if it wasn't as quiet as I expected. I know most companies were just coming back from the holidays today, meaning traffic would be bad and the "just back from vacation" blues would be sinking in. It would have been my seventh consecutive day at the office or in the field, so I haven't had to deal with either problem.

The little bit of time to myself has allowed me to get a little bit of writing done, a little bit of yoga, and a little bit of cooking. All three have been neglected over the past few months. But I'm getting close to finishing this project, and as for yoga and cooking, well, I've resolved to do better. I think once a week is manageable, given the chaos my life has endured lately.

One thing I didn't get to do: take a nap. Naps are my favorite weekend/vacation activity, and one would have been perfect for today. It's too late for one now. 

I'll save it for my next day off, whenever that may be. 

(Photo: Mentalfloss.com)

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Discovery, Day 359: I Still Hate Vegas.

I still hate Vegas.

I once considered that it might not be so bad. After all, on my first (and up until now, only) visit, I was sick. Throwing up and calling my mom during the middle of her Thanksgiving dinner crying was not the best use of my time there. I figured maybe if I had the opportunity to feel like a normal human being in Vegas, it would be okay.

Instead, I walked inside the casino and was hit with the pungent smell of...actually, I don't know what it is. It's a slightly sweet, sickly smell, tinged with cigarette smoke. I presume it's a result of pumping the the place full of excess oxygen, and I guess whatever else they think will revitalize their gamblers. Add poor ventilation and massive crowds, and you have a winning combination of odors.

The floor is loud too. The constant chiming of games and slot machines, music pumping from nightclubs and retail stores, hundreds of people milling about, and it's very overwhelming. I was so easily turned around, and would consistently find myself wandering in hallways, not sure where I'd end up. 

My wanderings led me past restaurants, none of which had prices listed on their menu on the outside. You find out when you sit down that a burger averages between $18-20. A breakfast plate, two eggs with toast from room service, was $27. Starbucks, my go spot if everywhere else is outside my price range, was even charging $7 for their venti drinks. Of course, off the strip everything is affordable, but when you have 40 minutes between scenes for a crew meal, the options are limited. 

Even if it didn't smell, it wasn't horribly loud, it didn't cost a fortune to visit Vegas, there's not a lot I'd want to see. The casinos are unremarkable. A replica of the Eiffel Tower, in my opinion, is tacky. I'm not a huge Celine Dion, Elton John, or Britney Spears, and I could see Cirque du Soleil in New York or Los Angeles, so the shows hold very little appeal. The hotel rooms are nice enough, but you can find a nice hotel anywhere. As for the clubs, I could care less. Clubbing is not my idea of a good time. 

I hope I don't have to go back anytime soon. The air was so dry that my lips practically cracked open. Three days later and I'm still applying chapstick in 15 minute intervals. 

At least I didn't have to drive this time. 

(Photo: Photo.net)

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Discovery, Day 358: Another Year.

I realized it's New Year's Day, and I can't post without acknowledging that 2014 is officially upon us. But I did forget what day it is. Which is why I'm only just now catching up.

The past 48 hours have been a whirlwind. I've been in three states, two casinos, a commercial plane, and a private jet. In the past four months I visited two coasts of the United States and another country. All for work, at a job I still can't believe I have. I've been very lucky.

I remember beginning the year with the resolution that I would leave my old job. I couldn't say it out loud at the time, but I wasn't happy and was desperate for a change. I took a chance and my choice changed my life irrevocably.

That's pretty cool. I don't mean to get all sentimental or overly mushy about all this. I'm just very glad I ended up where I am today.

This year, I hope the work continues. If all goes well, I could find myself traveling again. As hectic and stressful and sleep depriving as it is, I like working in new places. I'd like to have a better balance though, as I tend to throw myself wholeheartedly into my job and ruin my health as a result. 

So for 2014, I would like to:

1. Do yoga. I mean really do yoga. I think it was a resolution of mine last year and I failed epically on follow through. It sounds silly, but I'll start by purchasing a new mat, one that's non-slip. I'd like to find a studio this month too.

2. Pay closer attention to my health. I should see the dentist every 6 months like I'm supposed to. I'm also long overdue for a checkup, which I should set up ASAP. And maybe eat better than I did last month. That'd be good.

3. See my friends. After working so much, I feel the need to spend time alone and recharge. As a result I haven't seen much of my friends lately. Especially the ones outside of my usual social circle. It's been far too long.

That's all for now. More will come up I'm sure as time goes by. I can say the big difference between this year and last is that I'm finally feeling satisfied with the direction my life is taking. That could change, but I'll enjoy it while it lasts. 

Happy New Year!

And one more resolution: reach post 365. Almost there...

(Photo: Blog.search-mojo.com)

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Discovery, Day 357: Noodles.

I landed at LAX close to 1pm, and after a quick detour at Starbucks was in my office at 2pm. At 2:17pm, we got the green light for our trip to Vegas. From that point on, it was total chaos. Try prepping for an out-of-state film shoot in less than 12 hours, then you’ll understand what I mean.

It was 7:30pm by the time I was able to escape from my office, enough time to go home, pack, and send another batch of emails before bed. Tim met me at my apartment, and being the thoughtful person he is, brought me dinner. 

He made a brilliant choice and stopped at the pho place without a name near his house. It’s known as serving some of the best pho in Los Angeles, and while it’s cash only, they never fail to draw a crowd to eat at the restaurant or order take out. 

Pho was never really on my radar. I’d only ever eaten it in Boston, once or twice, and I wasn’t all that impressed. Then again, I was trying it in Chinatown. Not exactly the best spot. This pho place, on the other hand, is irresistible. You want noodles with broth? You got it. Noodles with salad? They got that too. Veggie rolls? Plenty to go around. There’s something for everyone.

Tim and I got to talking about the noodles and why they’re so good. Unlike some Chinese food, Thai food, and Indian food, their pho isn’t super heavy or greasy. It doesn’t congeal when it gets cold. Fresh off the grill or straight out of the fridge, they’re the same either way.

From a health standpoint, that’s pretty great. Some of the worst things for the human body are liquids that turn solid at room temperature. Imagine what that does to the arteries. Can’t be good.

It was the perfect choice for the evening, even though I could only eat about half of my vermacelli. The rest is in my fridge for another night’s dinner. I’ll get to save some time and energy prepping a meal for myself, and better yet, can continue to procrastinate on food shopping. Not that I have much time anyway.

(Photo: Hippiefoodmom.com)

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Discovery, Day 356: Change of Plans.

Change of plans. Instead of traveling back to Los Angeles on December 31st, to spend New Year's Eve with my friends, and New Year's day quietly relaxing, I'm being put to work.

I had to change my flight to the morning of the 30th, which will land me at LAX around 12:30pm, after which I'll report straight to my office. I'll spend the afternoon prepping, booking car service trips, flights, and haggling with hotels. I'll have just enough time to go home, eat dinner, pack an overnight bag, and fall into bed without adjusting to the three hour time difference.

In the morning I'll be up bright and early to wrangle cast and crew onto a private jet, get the ball rolling on the shoot, and eventually into the air. If all goes according to the new plan, I will arrive in Vegas around 2pm on New Year's Eve.

My previous trip to Vegas was tainted by the fact that I was homesick, and also physically sick with a mystery stomach bug. The entire place disgusted me, from the smells down to the $4 sip of ginger ale from the hotel bar. Of all the places in the world, one filled with gambling, excessive drinking, and clubbing would me my worst nightmare. And unfortunately, that's what we'll be tracking down on our trip.

Luckily it's only 24 hours. I'll get to return to my apartment the very next day, and report to work the day after. It's not the end of the world. Just a change of plans.

(Photo: Specialhappens.com)

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Discovery, Day 355: Crystal Fairy & the Magical Cactus and 2012.

Crystal Fairy & the Magical Cactus and 2012 is quite a mouthful. That's not necessarily a bad thing, as some great films have excessively long titles (think Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb). It's starring Michael Cera, which is also not necessarily a bad thing (think Superbad). 

But it was bad. Oh so very bad.

The only redeeming thing about the movie was Gaby Hoffmann, who I adore, and the Silva brothers--a trio of extremely good looking Chileans (I think, but there's very little information on them). They were all very sweet, and fun to watch as they reacted to Michael Cera.

Michael Cera, on the other hand, was a giant pain in the ass. You want an unlikeable character? You got it. He played the most selfish, self centered asshole you could imagine. No charm, no manners, nothing. Just a total prick.

Which, once again, it's not bad to have your main character be unlikeable. But there has to be some substance in the story, somewhere. The film begins at a booze and coke fueled party, where Michael Cera invites a wild gypsy hippie, Crystal Fairy (played by Gaby Hoffmann), to join his road trip with the Silva brothers to a beach at the end of a desert, where the ultimate goal is to drink from the legendary hallucinogenic San Pedro cactus. Then, that's sort of it. The plot meanders for awhile and we see Michael Cera grow even more intolerable by the scene, if that was even humanly possible.

Finally, they wind up at the beach and drink the San Pedro, and at this point I sort of tuned out and had to deal with work stuff. The gist of it followed their hallucinogenic adventures, until Michael Cera had some wonderful revelation that he was an asshole to Crystal Fairy and apologizes. Whoopdeedoo.

I'm really tired of drug/alcohol fueled movies. They went to a party and did drugs. They drove through the desert to do more drugs. No character development, no plot development needed. Well, guess what. I was bored. I couldn't wait for the movie to end so I could get back to not watching the movie.

That may just be me. I'm sure there are some people out there who enjoy that sort of thing, just like there are people who still aren't tired of seeing Michael Cera on screen. At least the beach was pretty. And the boys.

(Photo: Imdb.com)

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Re-Discovery, Day 354: Driving in Connecticut

Driving is a completely different experience outside of Los Angeles. I've been on the west coast long enough that I'd forgotten what it was like. Empty roads, winding over and around hills, past houses and rivers and dense forests. It's more leisurely, even when you have a place to be, even when you're driving above the posted speed limit. Few places have more than one or two lanes, more than a mile or two of congestion before you're free again. 

I learned to drive in Connecticut. My first spin behind the wheel of a car was down my block. I remember how nerve wracking it was to venture out into the main road. It was months into my learner's permit before I ever had to take the ramp onto the highway, as most local driving could be done on back roads. I vaguely learned to parallel park, since there was not much need for that either.

It wasn't until I moved up to Boston that I adjusted to different driving styles. Navigating major highways across several states, zipping through city streets that have no rhyme or reason for their organization. I parallel parked for the first time in a Uhaul cargo van on busy Boylston Street. 

But none of it was anything like driving in Los Angeles. Six lane freeways, disappearing lanes, motorcycles driving between cars--it's like being on a different planet. I quickly got over my nerves and adapted to the sprawling metropolis, forgetting my GPS and finding my way around the good old fashioned way. 

Back in Connecticut, I have to remember how to drive like an east coaster. More importantly, I have to remember to use my brights. It's dark here, in suburbia. My town especially. There are no street lights. Just miles and miles of streets, pitch black. 

It's unnerving to realize a deer could dart out of the trees in front of me, and I'd have no chance of stopping. It never used to worry me before, back when driving in the dark was normal. 

My visit here is short, so I don't think I'll have a chance to get used to it. I fly home Monday. Back to the lights, back to six lane freeways, back to the hustle. 

I'll miss the quiet.

(Photo: Kwaree.com)

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Discovery, Day 353: Deep Tissue.

I've been to a handful of massages over the years, all of the Swedish variety. The experience is always lovely, aided by soft lighting and soft music and a gentle relaxation of all my muscles. It's one of the few times I feel as if I can sink into the table and let myself forget the world. 

The benefits of massage remained a mystery to me until I was very ill and my doctor encouraged me to seek out a few sessions to relieve some of my pain. As it turns out, massaging the muscles releases toxins stored in the body. When I was sick, I would feel awful after a massage. But after a few hours of sleep, I'd wake up feeling significantly better. 

It's not like that for me anymore. My problem now is the tension, in my back, shoulders, neck, and hamstrings. It's been so abysmal lately it hurts just to extend my legs straight in front of me, without even bending over.

I decided that it was time for a massage, to see if I could release some of the tension and make stretching a little more comfortable. I asked what the therapists recommend for a lot of tension in the shoulders, and they said I should try a deep tissue massage. In the essence of trying new things, I signed up. 

My first surprise was having a male masseuse. I've only ever had females, and just like them, he was very professional. He also found my uncomfortable laughter very amusing.

I do this strange thing when my body is under pressure, or even pain, I laugh instead of cry. I did this throughout the session, as he dug fingers, knuckles, and elbows into the deeper tissue underneath my skin. And I mean, he dug right in. In my most tender muscles, I was hitting a 7 or 8 on the pain scale. Thankfully much of it was short lived, but I tried to breathe through it as much as possible and relax. I needed him to remind me a few times too. 

He taught me a couple stretches to keep too much tension from taking hold between massages. Because, let's face it, I don't go often. The lack of free time (and the expense) dissuades me. 

I feel much better though. I'll see what tomorrow brings--he warned me I may be very sore over the next few days. Ultimately, I think it was a good choice. I've been hunched over a desk for far too long. 

(Photo: Backzenbalance.com)

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Discovery, Day 352: Off The Grid.

I decided that on Christmas day, a day when the majority of the population would be off from work, it would be permissible for me to take a break from my own job. I knew it would be a short lived decision, a brief day amongst hundreds of others that I could be relieved of technology. But I took the leap and turned off my phone anyway.

It was immediately liberating. I didn't have to check it constantly, didn't have to read emails, didn't have to wait for the phone to ring. Then I realized the "Merry Christmas" text messages would begin and I would be that one asshole who didn't respond to people. Oh well. I didn't really miss it.

Not until I wanted to take pictures. There were a few things I wanted to preserve or share, and didn't have a camera to take them with. I let others take over, and if I ever want photos I can pull from their archives for my own memories. 

The strangest part of the day was the waiting. The down periods during which I'd usually check my phone or play a round of solitaire. Everyone else would be plugged in too, and I'd be sitting off to the side, twiddling my thumbs. I kept looking for a book to keep myself occupied but nothing in my house satisfied my interests. 

I wish there were more days where I could ignore my phone. It used to be like that--I even vaguely remember the days when my parents could come home from work and be done for the day. Before there were cell phones and personal laptops and direct wiring to the brain telling you to respond to all messages (okay, that doesn't exist...yet). 

Alas, I'm back at work. I thought I'd have a quiet week, but that was before a (still pending) trip to Vegas was brought to the table. We're all back on standby until official word is given.

It was nice while it lasted.

(Photo: Superforest.org)

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Discovery, Day 351: A Tinge of Sadness.

The holiday has actually arrived. And with it, there's that nagging sense of emptiness. I keep looking for a flash in the corner of my eye, listening for the click of dog nails on the wood floors, expecting to see my labrador tucked under my mother's feet. 

I look to the plaid reclining chair, and find my grandmother doesn't sit there anymore. My grandfather isn't waiting downstairs at my aunt's house waiting for a quiet one-on-one visit from me. 

Instead of friendly banter there are harsh words muttered so that they can still be heard. The bitterness isn't under the surface, it's out on the table.

Still, there is happiness. My mother is touched by her gifts. My cousins are reunited after being apart for almost a year. We laugh and play Cards Against Humanity.

I want to crawl into bed and cry.

(Photo: Theromanticvineyard.com)

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Re-Discovery, Day 350: The Diner.

Being home means I re-discover a bunch of things I've forgotten about. Like re-discovering people I went to high school with (three in the span of 2 hours). I couldn't even remember one of their names.

The thing about my high school was that there weren't many extracurricular activities in town. With a population of 10,000, you'd think there'd be something else going on besides a few shops in a single shopping center. The towns next door have more to offer by way of dining and shopping and entertainment, but we're talking about small town Connecticut here. It's enough to drive anyone mad.

There was one consistent gathering spot, a place every teenager would go at least twice a month. The local diner.

It was open 24 hours, one of the only places offering a late night spot to hang out that wasn't someone's parents' basement. It was central to everyone, only about 20 minutes from the furthest side of my town, and had pretty decent food to boot. 

The most popular order amongst my friends (and friends of friends, and just about anyone at the diner) was an order of fries and a milkshake. The milkshakes were served in their original aluminum mixing cup with a glass on the side to share and pour. The fries were pretty standard, just served on a big plate, thick cut and crispy. They're my favorite fries in the world, and I can't find anything like them elsewhere.

I make it a point to make it back there every Christmas, when I'm home for the holidays. I usually drag my friend Steph along with me, who's more than happy to partake in the milkshake and fries tradition. The owner always recognizes us and the servers always know what to expect when we sit down. The usual.

It's a way for us to catch up as well. You'd think we could get away with having a private conversation in our respective homes, but family is always around and eager to catch up as well. We've had many a meaningful conversation at the diner, about boys and friends and future plans, as the years have gone by. It's a safe place for us.

The diner will always bring up warm memories for me, even despite the (few) bad times I had there. I hope it remains there for many years to come. Given the rush hour lunch today, Christmas Eve, I don't think they'll ever have a problem bringing in customers. 

I bet that in twenty years from now, if I make a return visit to the town, I won't be able to resist going back. The fries are just too good.

(Photo: Precisionnutrition.com)

[365discoveries-everyday]

Re-Discovery, Day 349: The Dentist.

I've been visiting the same dentists since I was...oh I don't even know how old. Whatever the age is you're supposed to start getting your teeth cleaned every six months. I went back again today, because I've been too lazy to find a dentist in Los Angeles and my mom made the appointment and I figured I might as well get something done during my time off.

The drive is about 30 minutes from my house, and I recall with vividness the agony of attending the dentist after school. I never got to eat a snack in between my last class, the car ride, and our visit, so by the time they were done with me I'd be ravenously hungry. But as a kid, they put fluoride on my teeth and I wouldn't be able to eat for an hour after my appointment. So school would let out at 3pm, we'd arrive by 3:30pm, and I'd have to sit through my appointment, my sister's appointment, and my mom's appointment, before I was home free. 

As if the torture wasn't bad enough, there was a Wendy's right across the street, clearly visible from the dentist's chair. AGONY.

To this day I've never eaten at Wendy's, but mark my words, had I not been shuttled directly to the car after each visit I don't think I would have hesitated to run across six lanes of traffic and attack the person working the drive thru window for a bite, just one bite, of anything on their menu (as long as there were no pickles, ketchup, onions, lettuce, tomato, and all the other things I hated to eat as a child). 

The office remains much the same as it was when I was in elementary school. Some of the equipment has been updated, a few of the staff have retired, but everything else, down to the photograph of the glacier on the wall, remains untouched. 

I suppose the only difference I can tell is my teeth. My gums feel more sensitive than they were in my younger years, and I now have 3 1/2 wisdom teeth tucked in the back of my mouth. I went twenty years without a single cavity, and over the past few years have had at least three fillings put in. 

They're usually pretty painless. I have to go back this afternoon, after getting my teeth cleaned this morning, to have another cavity filled. It's either on my top wisdom tooth (which is more of a soft spot than a cavity) or the shadow on my xray (which is in a weird spot and would worry me). 

There's nothing I can do about it now, except let them do their job and accept that my mouth will be numb for several hours this evening. And I should floss more. 

(Photo: Deltadentalilblog.com)