Struggling with too much sun.

That's a quality problem, right?  Getting too much sun?  "Oh, poor you, you live in Southern California where it's sunny ALL THE TIME!" says everyone I know who I mention this to.  And trust me, I'm not complaining about the fact that we generally have great weather.  I'm complaining about my inability to handle the great weather in large quantities.

Before I began my one lone semester at Arizona State, I had to sit through hours and hours of orientation.  (Remember your college orientation? Remember how FUN that was? Not.)  The only thing I remember - to this day, seriously, the only thing I remember - is the discussion regarding sun exposure, heat exhaustion, and heat stroke.  To summarize, ASU gets a whole lot of out of state students, and many come from areas of the country where temps don't get crazy hot, and even if they do, its only for like, a day.  Because of that, one of the things they were trying to drill into our heads was to be prepared - to keep water bottles on us at all times; wear loose fitting, light colored clothing; and, if possible, work out during the early morning or evening hours.  My mom heard this and got totally freaked, and bought me 3 cases of water from Costco (which actually was one of the best things ever) and a huge bottle of sunblock.  I can say that in the first two weeks of classes, I would have to change my clothes twice a day because I'd sweat through them (TMI?) and I got some pretty awful sunburns on my feet.  I also melted two pairs of Old Navy flip flops and instead of gaining the freshman 15, I lost it.  Despite my difficult transition into 115 degree days, there were many a day where I would walk past the student health building, and the line was out of the door, filled with kids who didn't drink enough water.  Seriously.

That being said, I think I re-acclimated myself to this kind of weather pretty quickly, but the one thing I have yet to conquer is hydrating properly while hiking.  Back during my Team In Training days, I would listen to coaches explain all sorts of strategies on how to fuel and hydrate during long runs.  I learned how beneficial a salt packet is during a marathon (yes, really) and how chocolate milk is one of the best things ever at the end.  But, admittedly, I didn't pay a whole lot of attention to how often to hydrate while exerting yourself in any situation, and I should have.  I regret it now because I'm struggling with it on our weekly hikes. 

I haven't gotten sick (yet - knock on wood) but I've come close.  This week's hike was a little longer, and definitely tougher.  Since we only had my one bottle of water, and had to share, I didn't drink as much as I normally do, and didn't prepare with a bottle of water in the car.  My post-hike feeling is normally a headache that takes an hour to kill with rehydrating and usually eating something, but this week was the first time where I felt nauseous enough that I couldn't eat (and the burger I had ordered look SO delicious, too!) and it took me much, much longer to recover.

After doing some research, it seems the general rule of thumb with running is to drink water only when you're thirsty, and with hiking, to drink one liter of water per hour.  With the one liter rule, I'm right on track, but its possible I'm not hydrating enough before hand, or, in cases where its warmer out, I should be drinking more.

My plan of attack for next weekend is to definitely drink more before we leave; bring an extra bottle to leave in the car, plus a bottle of Gatorade (need to get that salt and electrolytes back in!) and maybe even wear a hat (my face gets the hottest the fastest - hopefully this will keep me a bit cooler).  Hopefully this'll get me on the right track to finishing a hike without a headache for once.

How do you hydrate or rehydrate during your workouts?  Any tips you'd recommend?

Happy Friday! (And favorite photo.)

I'm not really a fan of how I look in all most pictures, so I had to do some digging to find one I would consider a favorite.  My worst are candid photos.  If I'm listening to someone talk, focusing on something, talking myself, whatever - my face looks awful.  Someone once told me that they had seen me at a bar with a few friends and wanted to come up and say hi, but that I looked really angry.  Apparently, when I am not actively aware that I am smiling, I just look mad, even when I could be spacing out or totally fine.  (I'm working on that, trust me.)

This photo was taken at my favorite hometown bar, on trivia night, in 2010.  It was a few days before I left to move to LA (the first time) and I was spending time with my parents (briefly) and friends.  I love this photo 'cause I have a great tan, I'm only wearing mascara (oh, those were the days) and I loved how much the sun had bleached out my hair.  It's crazy to think that this was only 3 years ago - my hair is so long now in comparison - and I think I donated that shirt.  3 years doesn't seem like a whole lot of time but sometimes it feels that way!

Before I bow out for the weekend, here are some of my favorite things from the week:

This article about visiting Disney as an adult without kids.  I have this discussion with a lot of people who think I'm crazy, but apparently I'm of the "majority" in the world, as an adult, who doesn't have children, who loves Disney.  Despite the author's apprehension, she does seem to finally give in to the magic.

Reading my Twitter page in "gangsta slang" thanks to Gizoogle.  Type your Twitter handle (with the @ symbol) in search and see for yourself.  My personal favorite was the following: "I'm glad da most thugged-out hard as f@#! decision I gotta make todizzle is which book ta start reading. #grateful"

The best part of the series finale of The Office.  (Spoilers if you haven't watched!)


Bill Hader is leaving SNL, and that means Stefon is also leaving SNL.  Here are the top 5 Stefon moments.  I seriously can not watch a single Stefon sketch without crying from laughter.


This coffee mug which is oh. so. true.

Happy Friday, everyone!

Perspective.

Today's prompt is to write about our "lot in life" and something difficult that we are trying to overcome.  I've been thinking about this one for a few days now, because at first glance, there is really nothing for me to complain about - I had a wonderful childhood, I am thoroughly enjoying adulthood; I am healthy, my family and friends are healthy; I have a roof over my head and shoes on my feet and food in the fridge.  I have a wonderful boyfriend and fantastic, supportive, kind friends.  I have a great job and a steady social life.

After spending almost a year working with blood cancer patients, their families and friends, I can look back and say that it had brought me perspective.  Lots and lots of perspective.  The job was great; I was constantly meeting new people and learning new things.  But it was also emotionally taxing.  It was hard not to be affected by each persons story, some hopeful and promising, and others tragic and heartbreaking.  If there is one thing I learned from that job, it is to life your life to the fullest extent you can.  Cancer doesn't discriminate; it doesn't care if you're getting married, if you're having a baby, if you're starting college, if you're the healthiest person you know.  To wake up every day and say "I'm healthy" is a gift, that is for sure.

But along with that lesson came the strong desire to then live that full life, and that, I suppose, is where my difficulty lies.  Difficulty is a strong word.  I suppose it is an obstacle, an ongoing obstacle, that is a struggle everyone is having now, and that is money.

I have a steady job, with a steady income.  But, much like everyone else I know, I also have debt.  Lots of lovely student loan debt.  I'm able to pay my loans each month (for the most part) but it is a constant, looming cloud of doom, hanging over everything.  I will probably be paying off that debt for a very, very long time.  Not quite something I was hoping for.

But, again, perspective.  Outside of that, I really don't have anything to complain about.  And I have learned, many times in the past, that the universe has a way of helping you out, when you express gratitude for the things you do have, and acceptance for the things you can't change, and ask for its help in return.  So that is what I'm trying to focus on - the good, and the present - and making sure that I ask for the appropriate kind of help when needed.  And fingers crossed the Universe helps me out.  Again.

3/4ths of a day.

...because here on the west coast, my day is far from over, and yet anything remotely worth photographing and documenting has already happened.  The rest of my day will be filled with what I like to call the home stretch at work (the last 2 hours always seem to last forever), attempting a new dinner idea (I'll post the "recipe" if it actually works), getting in my squats/planking/leg lunges (more on that later) and watching reruns of Full House until I fall asleep (don't judge).

Admiring my gerber daisies I bought yesterday because the florist ran out of lilacs.  Bummer.

 I aim to wake up every morning somewhere between 7 and 7:30.  I've been using this nifty app called Sleep Cycle, which allows you to set a time frame that you wish to wake up in.  After it figures out how you move in your sleep the first few nights, it then figures out when you are in the least deep sleep in that time frame, and slowly wakes you up with sounds or music you pick.  It also allows you to set notes of things you did that day, like eating late, being sick, or having a few too many glasses of wine.  You can then track what things have positive and negative affects on your sleep.  (For whatever reason, I sleep terribly on Sunday nights, when I've spent the day at the beach, and when I eat after 8 pm.)

My makeup case takes over my bathroom counter.  Its like makeup vomit.

 I absolutely have to get dressed first thing in the morning.  Even though I work from home most of the time, I can't stay in my pjs all day.  I'd fall back to sleep if I did.  Getting dressed at least makes me feel like I've sort of started my day.  I don't trust doing my makeup until I've at least had my first cup of coffee.

I have drank coffee every day in that Wonder Woman mug since 2010.  I'm not kidding.

This is generally what my day consists of.  Computer, coffee, phone, repeat.

Making grocery lists is SO much easier when you have a cute chevron striped pen from Target.

New meaning to the term "liquid lunch."  I'm becoming addicted to this smoothie.

I typically eat lunch at home since, well, I'm at home and I can and its less expensive.  I'm trying to eat healthier or at least be more aware of what I'm eating and how often, so today I opted for a OMGSODELICIOUS Naked smoothie for lunch.  Have you tried this one? It tastes like a pina colada.  Its amazeballs.

Oh, Beverly Hills.  How I loathe thee.

I had to run an errand in Beverly Hills this afternoon.  (I know, there are worst things, right?)  But I truly do not like Beverly Hills.  It is one of the few places in LA that you can not get in and out of easy.  There's always traffic and the streets are confusing.

So many pens, so hard to choose.

My last stop of the day was Staples, where I always get distracted by everything else except what I actually came in for.  I've always loved office supplies, and I am very thankful that Staples has kept their offerings pretty straight and narrow, because if they started selling things in stripes or covered in glitter, I'd have a problem.

Happy Wednesday!

Outfit of the day - Mint obsession

ootd 5.15 by frenchvanillaextraextra featuring a heather t shirt

California's hothothot days and cool nights make layering super easy - and I think that's one side of the New Englander in me that I may never be able to get rid of.  Layering here usually means some mix of cottons that are swingy and breezy and light.  Ever since I bought this top, I have been wearing it all. the. time.  Last summers color obsession was coral; this summer is definitely going to be mint.  Plus, those sandals are on sale (thanks to Dana at Sequintessential for pointing them out to me!) and are so comfy!

10 things that make me really, really happy.

In no particular order:

Listening to the birds chirp in the morning.

Catching up with friends who you haven't spoken to or seen in a while, and its like you just saw each other yesterday.

Disney!  (Such a surprise, right?)

I'd like my backyard to look like this some day.

Mecca.

Beignets are better when they're Mickey-shaped.

Best. Photobomb. Ever.

Reading a book I literally cannot put down.  Where'd You Go, Bernadette? and Reconstructing Amelia were my most recent.

New clothes.  (Also included in that category is new shoes, a new bag, new accessories...)

Rainbow sprinkles on ice cream.  (Duh.)

Rainbow sprinkles on a cone do wonders, too.

The drinking-iced-coffee-while-driving-on-a-summer-day-with-the-windows-down-listening-to-country-music combo.

This is how I like my cupholders to look.

Summer weekends in Maine.  Unfortunately, now that I've moved, I don't get to partake in them any more, but just thinking about them makes me happy.

Dance parties.  (Especially impromptu ones!  Get down with yo bad self.)

And last, but most certainly not least, spending time with loved ones.

Dear Self

Day 13, a public apology.  While most I've read are public apologies to significant others, slighted best friends, or the mailman you just love to hate, my public apology is to myself.

I think generally, as humans, we are too hard on ourselves often.  Far too often.  It is good to be hard on yourself to a degree, for its how you learn to grow and overcome obstacles and learn from mistakes.  But I'm hard on myself all the time.  ALL THE TIME.  If I'm not so great at something, I feel like I'm failing as a human being.  A few weeks ago, I really wanted to try making these buffalo chicken meatballs I found on Pinterest (if you give them a shot, let me know) and I was convinced that I could take one recipe, which required attention and the oven, and mix it with another recipe, which only required my crockpot, and make magic happen.  (Obviously, I've been watching one too many episodes of Chopped.)  They turned out to be steamed balls of chicken mush which made our entire apartment smell like Frank's hot sauce to the point where I now smell it and my stomach turns.  I was so upset that I failed at it that I cried.  I cried because they did not come out right, I cried because I was hungry, I cried because ground chicken is mighty expensive, yo.  And while dutifully throwing out the hot-sauce-chicken-mush, Charlie kindly reminded me that no professional chef got to where they were without burning a few dishes here and there, and he's right.

So, here's my apology:

Self, I'm sorry I'm so hard on you sometimes most of the time.  I'm sorry that I want you to succeed at everything you try, because when you fail, you get hysterically upset and its kind of exhausting.  You're allowed to fail!  You're allowed to make mistakes.  Like you now know that baking in the oven and using the crockpot are two totally different things.  You learn so much from mistakes, and I'm sorry you struggle to embrace that.

I'm also sorry that I didn't listen to you more in the past, like the time you really wanted to do a semester abroad but let fear of losing a boy keep you in the states.  Or the time you wanted to try something new but were too afraid.  I should've encouraged you to give it a shot, even if it was just to learn you didn't like it at all.

I'm also sorry I didn't take better care of you in the past.  I don't always listen to what you're trying to tell me, and I should.  I don't let you communicate what you want, what you need, or how you feel, and sometimes I let you pretend it doesn't matter.  But it does.  It does matter.

Self, I want you to start doing new things.  I want you to try new things without fear of failing, being judged or maybe even the fear of being successful.  I want you to realize you're allowed to try something and not like it, and you're allowed to change your mind, and that's okay.  I want you to realize that if you make a mistake, take a deep breath and move on.  The world is not going to implode if you screw up.  And, finally, I want you to start communicating more.  Catch up with old friends, communicate your worries and fears, and talk it out when you feel you need to - you always feel better after you do.

I'm sorry that some of our years have been rocky, but I am going to work harder at cutting you some slack.  I hope you'll forgive yourself.

Love, me.