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 This past year I didn't quite conquer my list which is unpublished as I didn't want the whole world my few readers to be aware of my shortcomings.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?"

Thankful for these givings.

In no particular order...(but sort of..mostly the Top 5).

15. Lists.

"To-Dos," "Bucket" or "Favorites." It really helps prioritize my life.

14. 'Really?'

It makes discussing the nonsensical so much more fun. For instance...

13. GOP Presidential Debates.

For allowing me to use #14 frequently.

-"Libya...Libya...?"

-"I can't remember the third...Ooops."

Not knowing geography in general. Like that Africa is indeed a continent, not a country. Come on! (said in the stylings of Gob Bluth)

12. Scarves.

I have hangers that have lost their lives to my little obsession, but can't stop, won't stop.

11. Phone calls.

I know, I know, what is this, 1990? Remember when it was such a big deal to make a 3-way call? Now we just "cc:" each other on email. Booooring.

I love a good phone call. From the sound of the personalized ringtone I've chosen for the selected people that actually call me, to actually hearing someone's voice and laughter as we share the insanity of the daily.

10. Hazelnut Hot Chocolate.

Subconsciously, I think it's because the Hazelnut is Oregon's state nut. Consciously, it's liquid love.

9. My job.

Although it might not be the final career for me (mostly because I hyperventilate at the word 'career' as that's something adults have which I can't possibly be), I have to admit, it's pretty cool to teach college kids. Which brings me to...

8. My Students.

I had the stark realization last week that I have the pleasure of conversing and working with people from roughly 10 different countries on a daily basis. Not just their countries of origin, but immigrants of this generation. Russian, Ukranian, Taiwanese, Japanese, Chinese, African (Kenya, Sierra Leone, Nigeria), Iraqi, etc. I have two students who actually fled Iraq at the beginning of the war, watched family members being murdered before them, and were forced out of their country because of their religious beliefs. And they're still standing and getting an education...from me. I feel like they could teach me (and are) even more.

7. Meeting good people.

I try...I mean really try to be optimistic and see the goodness in strangers and people in general. Then "they" or someone does something douchey to taint my hope. Then you meet a new somebody that really restores your belief that there are people still left worth meeting.

6. Flannel sheets.

Even though sleep and I have nightly disagreements, there is not a more comfortable place to struggle in.

5. Semi-Independence.

This past weekend I had an autonomous Saturday. I went to a book signing for my beloved Mindy Kaling and by nightfall, went to a comedic benefit for the Mona Foundation featuring Rainn Wilson, Mindy Kaling, Anna Faris and Chris Pratt. I hang out by myself all the time (See #2, I do indeed have friends)...movies, coffee shops, lunch dates, exploring a new part of town, etc. but this was semi new territory.

For some reason we tend to be ultra self-conscious when we venture out alone (sadly some people avoid the public all together if they can't find a boyfriend in time for the wedding or friend to drag to a concert).

However when you're out with other people, you don't find yourself consumed by noticing and identifying other people for being alone. You stare and notice them if they're good looking or not. Or have on a super cute scarf or shoes.

4. Sense of Direction.

As I was driving toward Portland for the holiday, I began to contemplate various routes that would take me to my dad's house, depending on traffic. I've just begun to have this same type of comfort in my new home, Seattle, where I now know various routes through trial and error, that will take me home. It feels good to silence the navigation system.

3. Literacy.

I got frustrated the other day when I missed my exit due to inattention and some pretty serious car singing, and then thought, what would it be like to miss my exit because I couldn't understand the signs? Which led me to wondering this same concept while walking down the aisles of the grocery store 10 minutes later. Which led me to continue wondering this as I sat down that evening to indulge in my favorite pastime; reading for pleasure. How lucky I am to be born where I was, with the people I was born unto, and have the public education I did.

2. Friends.

My expectations of a friend are high and I expect the same of myself to my friends. This might be the reason I constantly struggle with having 450+ Facebook "friends" because I carry great weight with that word and it's impossible for me to be that person to 450 people. So for the ones whom I share real phone calls, dinner dates, travel adventures, or can do close to nothing and wake up sore in the abs from laughter, I'm so thankful for you. You really can't imagine how much. You're the family I choose.

1. Family.

I've always felt bad for people who loathe hanging out with their family, because I love hanging out with mine. And right when I think I realize how much I am loved by them, they show me a new way. I'm nothing without their love.

So as you sit down at the kids' table, in front of the TV or in a restaurant on this holiday, let us not celebrate Thanksgiving in the way of the first:

"I celebrated Thanksgiving the old fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land."

-Jon Stewart

Instead, bathe in wherever it is you find your love.

Unrelentless Love.

One.

It was almost 365 days ago that I recounted the most joyous occasion that has come to pass in my 27.45 years.

Life is anything but ordinary with this little girl in it:

I had a total of 28 hours to spend in Portland this past weekend to help her more-or-less blow out ONE very special birthday candle. I was more grateful than ever for Daylight Savings Time to afford me one more hour to soak up her sweetness.

She hollered at me for a good five minutes upon becoming reacquainted with me, as this cruel evil auntie had selfishly spent 2 months away from Her Adorableness. Not by choice, but at the unfortunate hand of teaching a night class on Friday evenings, leaves me very short weekends in which to travel to and from the hometown.

She got over it and we became the best of friends once again.

The last time I'd seen Muffin Bear she had just started to eat real people food and sit at the table with us in her high chair. She had also become more vocal but mostly just rambled on in a language unique to her.

This time I was waddling behind her holding her tiny clenched fists to ensure she didn't take a nasty spill on the hardwood, as she navigated around by her new gift of mobility on foot. After a couple laps this way around the kitchen island, she stopped for a moment, looked back at me, and kindly straightened her hands from my grip and pushed them away.

She would do it herself. PS. This was on Saturday and she had just started walking on Wednesday.

It's amazing how one small action can make you feel so proud and joyful, but simultaneously makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry uncontrollably. She is growing up too fast and is already gaining her independence! How much we already have in common (good luck parents :D ). If this is just the first year, how quickly will the first eighteen going to go? Which would then make me...oh, phew, Aunties don't age, just parents.

Thank goodness the holiday season is rapidly approaching so I can absorb myself in her presence for uninterrupted days on end.

Towards the end of her party, my brother said some very touching words in prayer about the change Olivia has made in his life and how she is continuing to teach him how to be a father. I too am amazed that this little 20 pound ham has transformed my heart which is so full of love for her. She makes me want to do better just to open up her world and show her the possibilities.

Oh, my love. You are the absolute BEST thing in life.

an iTypical day.

My alarm vibrates. Then rings. Then vibrates and rings. This is the only electronic device I have in my possession that doesn't bear an Apple logo.

Once I negotiate with my alarm on giving me a few extra minutes of [non]rest, I slowly peel back the covers and shield my eyes with the comfort of rubbing hands, as I flip on the light switch with my elbow. That cruel first piercing light of morning.

I stumble into my bathroom and all-too-soon stare at the hot mess that is presented before me that can only be explained as my retched doppleganger. The day must get better.

I reach for my iPad sitting on the corner of the counter.

What type of day will this be? My finger glides through my premade playlists giving me a plethora of options from my 2,000+ song library. What will it be? I’ll let the Apple gods of fate decide.

I gently tap shuffle on my iTunes.

Ahh, yes. 'Glee' was a good choice for this morning. Suddenly my Medusa-like reflection isn’t looking so badly anymore.

Coffee is made, clothes are on, make-up has made be presentable for interacting with other human beings, so I suppose I can now interact with these people.

I lift open the lid to my MacBookPro.

Emails are sent, Facebook statuses are liked, news websites are scanned. I pack up my MacBookPro in my bag and walk down to the garage to start my commute to work. I get in, lock the door [yes parents, this is really the second thing I do], and fish out my auxiliary cord from the center console.

I plug in my iPod Touch.

When I return home from the day and my shower’s been taken, dinner’s been made, and my DVR queue is unappetizing, I reach for the sleek, thin, familiar remote on my end table.

Ahh, the Apple TV. Let’s see what else is on.

How wrong the doctor was about just needing one apple a day. iNeed 5. I wonder if they've made the same oversight with wine...

Until today, I hadn’t realized, or perhaps my embodied habits shielded me from recognizing, what a huge part Steve Jobs iNNOVATION has played into mine and many of our routines.

In the way we wake up.

In the way we communicate.

In the way we create.

In the way we think what's possible.

In the way we consume entertainment

56 is far too soon, but wow. What a legacy to leave behind. I don't know if you'd call it ironic, fantastic or eerie, that by way of the technology you've created, would be the way the news of your death would spread within minutes around the globe.

"Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on."

Thank you, Sir.