I'll do better.

As much as I hate cliches, I don't hate self-improvement and I think everyone should always be attempting to become a better version of themselves. Unless you suck as a human being. Maybe it's just best you start from scratch. So for that reason, I like to at least have goals in mind for the New Year. This past year I didn't quite conquer my list which is unpublished as I didn't want the whole world my few readers to be aware of my shortcomings. But lo and behold, my failures and criterion met, await:

met: 

• I moved (to Seattle)
• I got a job right when I moved
• I exercised more 
• I traveled a fair share and went somewhere new (Park City, Canada, Barbados, NYC, Vegas-in a matter of hours)
• I ate better

shortcomings: 

• I didn't reach my reading goal 
• I didn't write more
• I didn't exercise as much as I should have
• I'm still a "realist" which is my euphemism for pessimist

In spite of the failures, I still had a good year. Plenty of fun was had. Good people were met, bad people were tolerated. Pages were turned, stories unfolded. Poor decisions were made, consequences paid but bad times don't endure when you're stronger than them. Or at least my people are stronger than them which gives me everything I need. Life lessons were learned. Adventures were sought and conquered. Memories, oh the memories, were captured in photos, in heart and written.

[With mom in Barbados. July 4, 2011]

So next year, I'll do better. And maybe on December 31 2012, I'll feel so inclined to share that list.

365 more. Oh-twelve, here we go.

First World Problems: Woes at the Symphony

It should first be noted that I don't dislike all children. In fact, I quite often talk about the most adorable one of them all on here. Maybe that's because she's related to me.

I dislike bad parenting. With that said, proceed.

S and I decided to be festive and classy this holiday season and add a trip to the symphony to the Christmagenda. We were pleased when we found out our moderately priced tickets were in close proximity to the stage. Our happiness semi-ended there.

Sitting next to me was an innocent enough looking family of four. Dad-Child 1-Mom-Child 2, sitting in that order, Dad sitting next to me. This was until the music began. Child 2, sitting the furthest away, decided that the music was his cue for playtime. Child 2 was about 5 years old.

He first starts to run in the very narrow and limited space between his mom and dad doing some sort of tap dance, until he climbs in his dad's lap where he decides that jungle gym would be a fun game to play at this moment. Dad doesn't protest. Child 2 begins to twist and contort his body in awkward positions; his favorite one being where his head was almost in my lap, looking up at me, hand outstretched in front of my face, obstructing my view of the stage.

What in Hades was going on here?!

If that were me at 5, my parents would've promptly taken me to the lobby for a "talking to." And by talk, I of course mean spanking.

But that would never be me. Because unlike these parents, my parents were well aware that a symphony is not a place to take your 5 year old child. It's called a babysitter and/or finding another family-friendly holiday activity. Like the Zoo lights. Or Peacock Lane. Or PIR lights. Or anything that's not using my lap as an extended part of dad's jungle gym. How inappropriate of the dad to think that his child's head in a female stranger's lap is acceptable behavior. I glanced over at the mom and saw she was wearing a knitted stocking cap. At the symphony.

We were dealing with hippy parents. AKA Let my child do whatever the [obscenity] they want. Discipline will only taint their artistic vision.

[I think Fred Armisen should really consider this as an upcoming storyline for 'Portlandia' .]

In addition to this being brutally annoying, I of course couldn't stop laughing at the Dad's content with the situation and this child looking up at me with his upside down eyes. It was weird. I looked over at S to only hear her start to laugh too. It was like that scene from Seinfeld where Jerry puts the Pez dispenser on his knee and Elaine starts cracking up laughing during the maestro's performance. Except our "Pez dispenser" was an overgrown 5 year old.

When the symphony began to play Tchaikovsky, I knew I would kill this kid if he ruined it. Instead, a 60 year old woman 3 rows in front of us did. And why? Because of a 4 year old kicking her seat.

"This isn't working!" She whisper-yelled at the mother holding the 4 year old. "She will not stop kicking my seat!"

She turned back around to face the stage, but only for a second before she returned to yelling. I wonder what she would've done if she were sitting in my seat...

When intermission came, we for sure thought they'd be leaving given the restlessness and disinterest of their children. We instead heard the worst words ever uttered: "Oh no, it's not over. It's just break time. They'll be back."

We looked at each other, exchanged a wordless message, and found different seats.

I know I'm not a parent and I don't know what it's like to have children. But I have parents. The best ones, in fact. And they taught me how to behave in public. If yours can't, leave them at home. Or better yet, teach them. With a good old fashioned spanking.

Ode to a Soulmate.

It was around 20 years ago when we were on rivaling soccer teams that I met my best friend. The story goes, or so she tells it as my memory sucks, that we both went after the same loose ball and somehow I got it away from her.

[Not sure if there is truth to me prevailing, as she has always been better than me at the game.]

Mad at her misfortune and my case of luck, the trash-talk of an 8 year old got the better side of her.

"Dummy!"

Not being familiar with such profane terms, I turned back to her. "What did you say?"

"Nothin."

A few weeks later, I'd be her teammate and some most of my best memories have been with her since.

• Our bus rides to and from soccer games. I never had to be Forrest Gump because it was known, the numbers 2 & 3 sat together. No question. We might've created a few handshakes in transit inspired by the one, the only, Fresh Prince of Bel Air (it was the 90's).
• Attempting to exterminate our ladybug infested 8x8 dorm room in Bloss Hall. With scotch tape.
• Watching Nick @ Nite before bedtime and other Disney Channel shows recommended for a tween audience, not for college students. We were in Bloss at this time.
• Entering a drawing during a road trip in California to go to the Academy Awards, actually winning, and returning a year later to be on the red carpet.
• Trying to speak Greek when we decided that was the place we needed to be during Junior year.
• Oh, and Barcelona.
• Road trips that led us to Canada, Tijuana, Disneyland.
• Living together all four years of college. It's unheard of for most women to maintain friendship status, let alone best, at the end of that.

I bought 'Soul Pancake' the other day. It's a book by Rainn Wilson and a few others that poses really difficult questions about life. Seriously, really thought provoking questions that challenge your brain piece to think about your life's philosophy or help you to create one. There was a page that asked you about soulmates; whether you believe in them, how to define them, how not to define them. Most of us use this term exclusively in the context of the romantic and I'm not sure that I believe in them in that whole context. But I do believe in them in another.

To find the same things funny (some of it dark, weird and utterly unfunny to anyone else), to create some of the most elaborate inside jokes (too many to remember or name), to have a common history, and to be able to truly be myself with no censor involved and never hear an ill word to judge me (there have been times where I judged me)-I believe that to be a soulmate.

I don't believe everyone has or even is lucky enough to find their soulmate. I'm glad I met mine when I was 8.

In earnest, I have no idea where I'd be without her and I credit her for some of the biggest adventures and risks I've taken in my life. I'm sure we'll be making them well into our 80's.

It was around 20 years ago when I met my best friend. She turns 28 today. She's never been much for celebrations, but there's no way I cannot not celebrate her and her place in my life.

You slowbug, are my favorite. You are my soulmate.

[In Crete at The Palace of Phaestos.]

The day I met Phil Dunphy

A week ago, I was at one of my favorite spots in Portland, enjoying one of my favorite delicious holiday beverages with one of my favorite people.

In order: Deschutes Brewery, Super Jubelale, Mike.

As I strategically picked off the tomatoes off of our Flatbread pizza and Mike & I traded stories to catch up on our lapse in seeing one another, Mike halts the convo.

"Phil Dunphy is behind you!"

Of course I believed Mike to be simply referring to a Dunphy Doppleganger. I turned around and there, 5 feet away from me was Ty Burrell. I freaked out.

Let's back-up. 'Modern Family' has been a favorite of mine since it came on the air and I am an addicted fan. More importantly, I ADORE Ty in particular and claimed him as one of the year's best people last year-here. Not just best, but #1. I can't begin to explain how many ab muscles I credit him with for all the laughs that come from Phil Dunphy moments. Let's just look at a recent example that really doesn't need any context:

"I'll admit it, I'm turned on by powerful women. Michelle Obama, Oprah, Condoleeza Rice, Serena Williams...wait a minute..." -Phil Dunphy

In my craze, I stood up from my barstool and started rifling through my purse that was hanging by hook, to search for my camera while Mike and I repeated, "I can't believe Phil Dunphy's here" and other fan-like things. In the process, my purse falls off the hook, I'm giggling uncontrollably as a woman about 12 inches away from me looks in my direction. We would later figure her to be Ty Burrell's wife, as she was sitting next to him at the head of their table.

Ty exits to the facilities and I await his return. I know this sounds cray, but I'm sure if one of your favorite comedic personalities was in the same vicinity as you, you might react in a similar fashion.

As he came out of the bathroom and I secretly hoped he was a hand washer, I approached him. I apologized for interrupting his evening, but told him something along the lines of how much I enjoyed the show and Phil Dunphy. He put his hand out.

"What's your name?" -Phil Dunphy, I mean Ty Burrell

"I'm Teela." -Me

"Hi Teela, nice to meet you. I'm Ty." -Ty Burrell

Yes, we're on a first name basis. I asked him to take a picture with us, he happily complied, and went on to eat with his family/friends/wife who saw me freak out over her husband in the bar.

[Mike, Ty Burrell, Me]

What made this moment so great is that I was with a fellow 'Modern Family' lover and it was in the beauty of the unexpected. I can't say that I enjoy all surprises, but this one definitely perked up my evening. And for the duration of that night, I would somehow integrate this momentous occasion into completely unrelated discussion:

"Always a line for the ladies room, huh?" -Woman stranger waiting for the restroom

"I know, tell me about it. So do you watch Modern Family?"