Congrats to Whitney, the first plus-size (in other words, REAL size) contestant to win America’s Next Top Model!! I was rooting her from the start because she was pretty and plus-sized, but her attitude started to annoy me. She just seemed too cocky. Plus, she always seemed to turn on her sexuality a little too much. I actually thought the runner-up, Hawaiian Anya with the weird speaking manner, would win because the judges seemed to rave more about her throughout the season. Plus, she won a lot of the challenges, whereas Whitney might not have won any. (Correct me if I’m wrong?) But I guess that was all to just throw the public off to THINK that Anya would win. Ooh, Tyra and the editing people, you’re so sneaky!

I think Whitney will be a good Cover Model representative since she carries herself well and is eloquent, opposed to Anya who talks like a little kid and seems really airheady (but to give her credit, though, she seems genuinely nice–of course, I could tell all this just from watching her for an hour on TV each week).

(I still haven’t watched the last two episodes. I’ve been recording them each week since we have small group during the time of the show. But curiosity got the best of me and I just had to find out who won!)

I recently put our boxwood shrub on craiglist, asking for any takers to come over and dig out the shrub for free. This is not just any old shrub. It’s a decent size, and would probably cost some money (and a lot of time) for people to end up with something this big.

I got a few replies, and offered it to the first person who replied. My first mistake: Offering it to someone and letting her come pick it up a week later. We’ve had a lot of experience with craigslisters who tell us they are “very interested” in something, ask us to hold it for them, and never pick it up. Sometimes they call to ask us to hold it another day. Most often than not, they just don’t show up. By then, other people who have expressed interest are no longer interested.

Matt told me not to hold it for her, but I did anyway. She was planning on getting it this coming weekend, and yes, she said she was “very interested.”

After talking to Matt about it a little more, he convinced me to just tell her that the shrub needs to go ASAP, offer her a chance to get it tonight, and then open up the offer to other people. Normally, I don’t like rescinding offers, but we know how common it is to get burned when you start promising things to people—and I actually would prefer to get the shrub out of the ground before the weekend, too.

So I e-mailed the woman, asking if she could get it tonight. I apologized and used Matt as an excuse for having to change our plans. Her response was something along the lines of how inconsiderate it was for me to back out after I gave her my word (and rightly so…I’m guilty, especially after thinking how flaky craigslisters could be), and how I should at least dig out the shrub and keep it in a bucket for her. (Does she remember how big they are?? I don’t have anything to hold it!) And the kicker was that she asked if I had a backbone to stand up to my husband.

At first, I just felt bad for backing out on her, but then I just boiled up when I read the sentence about not having a backbone. How DARE she say something about a perfect stranger over something that is FREE!!!! I was just enraged, so of course I furiously typed out a response, my heart beating quickly the entire time.

I didn’t reveal my complete anger over her words, but I said something along the lines of how sorry I was that she felt like she had to attack a complete stranger, and how she had no right to say that, and that I couldn’t believe she would stoop so low over something free. I also said I’m glad she’s not getting our boxwood bush.

But that was my second mistake: I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me. Doesn’t the Bible talk about how being nice is like heaping hot coals over someone’s head? But, if I was sugary nice just to make her feel guilty, would that have been any better than letting my anger show? I am genuinely sorry that I shot out that reply so quickly. If I thought about it more, I would have been more apologetic about backing out of the agreement, but also would have just put in a polite one-liner about how I’m sorry she was so upset that she was attacking a complete stranger. End of story.

Oh well, I failed that test, but we just learn from our mistakes.

Matt and I went to the Mariners game last night, courtesy of one of his co-workers who was looking for someone to use her tickets. Normally, we’re up in the nose-bleed section, but this time, instead of climbing higher and higher up the stairs, we were at the second level, below the box seats. What a treat!

But this only meant we got a good view of the fight that broke out on the field after the Rangers’ pitcher nearly hit Mariners player Richie Sexson. All the players ran to the field, bringing me back to those high school days when a fight would break out and attract swarms of people like a magnet (or like me to free boba). I was just appalled. I guess I’ve seen trash-talking during basketball games and those moments when teammates have to hold each other back (again, like high school), but I had never seen a fight break out during a baseball game.

I was so disgusted. People cheered. I booed. If everyone got up and left when fights broke out, maybe the players would feel a degree of shame and realize how immature they were being. You get paid big bucks, you’re a role model, and you really want to go home and tell your kid that you started a fight at work?

Granted, there was some underhanded animosity on both sides, but who would be the bigger man?

I was talking to a co-worker (a big baseball fan) at work, describing the situation and my reaction to it. His response? “We have a word for that in our household: Girls.”

But as much as I could judge the guy who throws the first punch, I realize that many times, I want to strike a blow–maybe not physically, but verbally.

Take for example the clerk at Safeway last week. She accidentally rang up my box of cereal with the items belonging to the woman in front of me. The box of cereal was at that point of the checkout counter that was hidden behind the checkout machine, and I wasn’t peering down the conveyor belt to see what was being rung up–and neither was the woman paying for everything.

The woman finally noticed she was about to pay for a box of cereal that wasn’t hers, so she mentioned it to the clerk. The clerk had to take it off the receipt, so the woman apologized. The clerk said, “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” They both looked at me.

Whatever, women!! It wasn’t my fault, either. If I’m putting my items onto the conveyor belt at one end, am I supposed to be watching the items on the OTHER end, too? I didn’t apologize. A few more times, the women went back and forth about how it wasn’t the other person’s fault. I ignored them.

When it was finally my turn to get my stuff rung up, the clerk was pointedly rude to me. I know everyone has their bad days, but I had just overheard several minutes of friendly chattiness between her and the previous customer? I decided to let it go, but at the very end, I noticed that she didn’t even bother bagging some of my groceries. She bagged most of them, but she just left the last bag sitting UNDER my items. The items weren’t even half-sitting in the bag–they were right on top of the bag. So I reached over the counter where you sign checks and stuff and bagged them myself. She saw me, and she stood there watching me reach over. Finally when I was done and had put that final bag in my cart, she handed me the receipt.

Ooohh, I wanted to have words with her (and not nice ones, to be clear). Of course, I never think of things to say until after I walk away. And it’s not like I’m expecting to be served. If the clerk looks busy, I’ll bag my own groceries. I don’t have a problem with that. But if she has bagged most of them, and then just leaves the items on top of a bag and watches me bag them–that’s not normal.

I know I tend to complain a lot about customer service or treatment from other people, but it’s mostly when I see a difference in behaviors of how the other person treats someone else and then how they treat me. If I see them being consistently rude, I think, “Man, they’re rude! They must be having a sour day.” But if it’s like “smile, smile, smile, frown” (to me), I get really irked by that. And it’s not just toward me. I see how people in stores treat other people who look like they don’t have money or they may smell. I get the same treatment when I’m in sweats and a frumpy sweater. It’s not right.

So anyway, my point of it all was that I may not be like Richie Sexson, to outright let my anger and frustrations out in a physical way. But I can certainly understand the emotions leading him to respond that way. And if my thought process was quicker, I’d probably be letting loose some verbal cannons, too.

Matt and I celebrate our three-year wedding anniversary today. Three years doesn’t sound like much, but the years really have gone by fast.

Today I was talking to a co-worker whose husband has ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) and is expected to die within a couple of weeks. He has lost all use of his body except above his neck, so he can still talk and eat. But he’s confined to a wheelchair and basically needs around-the-clock care. My co-worker told me today that her husband told her, “I’m ready to stop fighting. I’m ready to go.” And my co-worker said that she is ready to let him go. “I never thought I’d be giving up,” she said.

But it helps that he’s ready. And what has pulled them through this all is their faith and their unwavering trust that God continues to bless them in the midst of this incredibly difficult trial. My co-worker talks about how they were able to get the wheelchair-accessible van that they wanted–at a lower price than expected–or how a neighbor came to visit JUST when my co-worker needed to go somewhere, but still needed someone to watch her husband. She cited several occasions where she felt God provided for them at just the right time–and it is those times that pull them through all this.

It’s simply incredible to see her positive attitude, yet you know she is hurting but ready to accept what is to come. She doesn’t know how she really will react when it happens, but she is ready for it. I keep thinking how difficult it must be, to be married to someone for 27 years and to watch them deteriorate before your eyes over the last two years, and to know that they will die much sooner than you expected. What happened to growing old together?

And then I think that even with only three years with Matt, I would be devastated if something like this happened to him–and how much harder it would be if we were together for 27 years? I don’t know how she does it, but it really makes me thankful for each day that I have with Matt. Despite my outbursts and complaints at times about how mauh-faun marriage (and Matt) can be at times, I am truly thankful for him and love him so much.

(BTW, tomorrow is my two-year anniversary at World Vision and this week marks our two-year anniversary here in the Emerald City! Whoo-hoo!)

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” I have to be honest and say I’m a pretty loud gong right now. There’s a layer of nasty yellow crud–possibly cooking oil–caked at the bottom of my Ninja Turtle cup and it’s been sitting there overnight. I’m trying to get it out without having to use a sponge or stick my fingers down there, and my thoughts are far from loving right now.

(Wordpress tells you when someone else has linked your blog to theirs, and apparently, this website has my previous post on their site…)

She’s hung with First Lady Laura Bush and American Idol contestant Melinda Doolittle, but you would never recognize her name or her face. But when you hear her story, you can’t help but see her as a hero, as someone who deserves to be well-known.

Every so often at work we have “Lunch and Learn” events, where you bring your lunch and learn about a certain topic. Sometimes you’ll hear about a project in a different country, and sometimes you’ll learn about something new going on within the organization. Today’s Lunch and Learn was an intimate gathering with Lister Chingangu, a caregiver from Zambia. Over the past three weeks, she has visited 13 states, speaking at churches and also advocating on Capitol Hill for government funding to fight AIDS, malaria, and TB.

Last year, when Laura Bush and Melinda Doolittle visited Zambia and handed out mosquito nets, Lister was there. She and Mrs. Bush greeted one another with a handshake. This time, when they reunited in D.C., they greeted each other with a hug, Lister said.

Seven years ago, Lister– a pastor’s wife–started a ministry called God Our Help Ministries in Lusaka, Zambia. Her program trains volunteers from the community of about 100,000 who visit people living with HIV or AIDS in their homes, and cares for them and their families. Lister described a typical visit: cooking a meal for the patient while bathing and changing them; talking to their kids to see how they are doing, encouraging them to go to school; giving the patient medicine; reading the Bible to them. And they don’t just visit one patient a day. They often visit up to 10 people in one day!

One of the connections between Lister and World Vision is that her ministry uses Caregiver Kits that are put together by World Vision donors. Many churches (and other groups) donate money that goes toward buying supplies (cotton balls, bandages, petroleum jelly, gloves, flashlights–or “torches” as Lister calls them) to put into plastic cases that the caregivers take around on their home visits. With patients who are seriously ill, the kit can last 5-6 weeks. With patients who aren’t as sick, one kit can last up to 3 months. Each kit also includes a handwritten note from the person from the church or group that assembled the kit. Lister said she always reads the note to the patient, and the patient is always so grateful that someone is thinking of them. Prior to having the Caregiver Kits, the caregivers had to improvise, such as tying plastic bags onto their hands in place of gloves.

There are thousands of home-based caregivers like Lister in Zambia, and Lister’s own ministry has about 65. They are trained to care for and love people who are sick–many of them dying. Many of the caregivers get around by bike, and are helping people the entire day. The cool thing is that once patients are taking antiretroviral medicine, they often get their strength back and can work a little. Many of them even are so touched by the care they’ve received that they ask to become trained to be a volunteer caregiver, too. They are in an awesome position to encourage people to get tested for HIV and to take medicine. Fortunately, the stigma surrounding AIDS isn’t as strong as it was before, thanks to more and more people being educated about the disease.

So why do they do it? Lister said as Christians, we are called to help the widows and children, and they take that call literally. Christ says that when we are feeding the hungry and helping the sick, we are in a sense helping Him. Lister said that those verses motivate her to do this selfless, tiring work each day. On top of that, the people they are helping are in their community, which makes them family. How many of us could say that people in our community are family? Would I volunteer to wipe up my neighbor’s wounds, cook them meals, and bathe them each night? Sadly, I don’t think I would. I wouldn’t consider them family simply because I live next door to them.

When the caregivers cook food for their patients, the meals are made with their own ingredients, bought with their own money. But since these caregivers are volunteering all day, they have very little money–mostly from side jobs that they manage to keep to make a little income. To us, it’s a huge sacrifice to help other people when you’re barely scraping by. To Lister, she shrugs and says, “You only need very little to be able to give.” Later on, she adds, “We are happy to give, because God always provides the next day.”

That just blew me away. How many times have we said that when we have more money, a bigger house, a better job, a bigger car, THEN we will help other people? Then we can tithe more, donate more to charity, take in people who need a room, give people rides? But I highly doubt we will ever feel like we have “enough.” So to hear this woman say that you only need very little to be able to give was such an encouragement.

In addition to being such a genuine, humble woman with an amazing heart, she was just so gosh darn cute. She said that when she arrived in the States, she spoke with her kids back in Lusaka who asked her, “Mommy, what is it like there?” Lister got this look on her face that made her look so excited and child-like as she said, “I told them, ‘It’s just like in the movies!!’”

I wish you all could have seen her and heard her story. I was just in awe of this woman. Oftentimes, we’re inspired and impressed by people who volunteer their time to help others. But these caregivers are full-time volunteers–and the work they do is tough and draining, both physically and emotionally. They are true heroes in my book.

Click here to read more about why Lister was visiting the States. Here is more about the Caregiver Kits, plus a photo of Lister.

I’ve been having a really hard time keeping my judgmental, critical thoughts to a minimum. Fueled partly by PMS and partly by pent-up frustrations, I sort of let things out two weekends ago (although things could have been even more extreme if I really let loose) and felt fed up with a lot of things. I’m the type of person who doesn’t express my frustrations when I should, in fear of hurting someone else’s feelings or creating awkward, uncomfortable vibes. So, instead, I keep my emotions inside, all the while casting critical thoughts on the unsuspecting victims.

Two days after that incident, I figured a good Bible reading should get my mind on track, so I returned to a Bible-reading schedule that I started several years ago and am slowly getting through. I happened to be on Romans 2. I opened it up, and was shocked–God could not have been clearer. I was reading the NIV translation ($5 student Bible from the 1996 Dawson McAllister conference–yeah!), but I looked up the translation of The Message (of which I’m normally not a fan), but thought it really hit home for this passage:

1-2 Those people are on a dark spiral downward. But if you think that leaves you on the high ground where you can point your finger at others, think again. Every time you criticize someone, you condemn yourself. It takes one to know one. Judgmental criticism of others is a well-known way of escaping detection in your own crimes and misdemeanors. But God isn’t so easily diverted. He sees right through all such smoke screens and holds you to what you’ve done.

3-4You didn’t think, did you, that just by pointing your finger at others you would distract God from seeing all your misdoings and from coming down on you hard? Or did you think that because he’s such a nice God, he’d let you off the hook? Better think this one through from the beginning. God is kind, but he’s not soft. In kindness he takes us firmly by the hand and leads us into a radical life-change.

Yeah. I got the message. I definitely should not be one to critique other people, especially when there’s a lot that needs improvement in my life. I was definitely convicted, and have since been trying to be more level-headed and less judgmental. Trust me, it’s hard, and I’ve already had many, many judgmental thoughts since reading that passage. But I’m really trying to stay focused.

I recently read “Operating Instructions” by Anne Lamott (BTW, I’m determined to be the next Anne Lamott), who talks about how when the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake struck, all she could think about was how it would affect her book sales. Meanwhile, her friend is stressing about whether or not her husband is still alive. Anne wrote, “…to have this dark side, that is part of what it means to be human, to have the darkness just as much as the light–that in fact the dark parts make the light visible; without them, the light would disappear.”

I understand what she means about the contrast…that you can’t see one without the other. But I don’t want to have that dark side. I don’t need it around just so you could see the light. In fact, the dark side may even end up overshadowing the light side if I don’t keep it under control. In my case, people keep telling me that my emotions are expected and normal. I understand that. But I can’t help but want to get rid of them…for my sanity, and for the other people around me.

If I had known the weather was going to be so amazing on April 12, I would have gone skydiving. But since spring weather in Seattle is so unpredictable, we didn’t want to risk it. Our plans to go hiking turned into tentative plans for paintballing (in case of inclement weather), and then to snowshoeing when we realized the trail we chose was still full of snow. I’m still in awe of the sun and warmth we had on Saturday–it was the most amazing day weather-wise all year, and it just happened to be on the weekend we chose to be outside. Perfect, I tell ya. Just perfect.

The road leading up to the trailhead was snowy, so we parked about 1/4 mile from the trailhead and strapped on our snowshoes. But as soon as we reached the trailhead, the snow melted and we were snowshoeing on dirt. What the heck?! It was funny, but still–we came for the snow–we wanted snow! Fortunately, someone coming down the trail told us they turned around because the snow was too deep. YES! Finally, about 3/4 mile into the trail, we got to put our snowshoes back on.

There were only four of us making the 2-mile journey that seemed to be much longer than that. It took us 3 hours to get to our destination–Heather Lake. The last 1/4 mile was strenuous, with threats of “If we don’t get there soon, I’m going to…” without knowing how to finish it. We surely weren’t going to turn around after having gone so far.

But once we reached the top, it was all good. The forest opened up to a clearing where Heather Lake was covered with soft mounds of snow, curving into each other. Around the lake were some trees, and in the background rose a mountain (see picture below, although it doesn’t do the real thing justice!). We ran into two guys who made the trek without snowshoes. Brave souls. Their pants were wet up to their thighs, having sunk into the snow so deeply with each step. They must have been exhausted after pulling themselves out of several feet of snow so often.

When they left, it was just the four of us. All I could think of was peace. Serenity. Quiet. The only sounds were birds chirping (quietly), and the occasional snowfall off the mountainside, giving off the sound of how I imagine a mini-avalanche to sound. After eating my lunch, I dug my body deeper into my snow “recliner” and laid down. “Don’t get too comfortable, we still have to hike down, you know,” warned Matt. But once I laid down, everyone else followed–and we napped for about 30 minutes. Nothing else could put you to sleep faster than being under the sun. We all woke up around the same time, looking at each other, smiling, feeling completely refreshed. No one else had come up to our little paradise while we were asleep.

Later that night, my quads and hamstrings absolutely ached and burned, even without my stretching or moving them. I rubbed Bengay all over my legs and slept with ice packs tucked between my legs and the bed. I felt like an old woman. 30 didn’t seem so bad when we were snowshoeing, but the aftereffects were pretty painful. But overall, 30 ain’t so bad. :)

So after just recapping all the activities we did in California, I wanted to share something that I learned during the trip. As I packed for the trip (and I ALWAYS overpack), I realized that as I was going through my outfits each day, I wasn’t concerned about what I wore in Sac. But when it came time to packing for the day in LA, I thought, “What am I going to wear? I always wear the same few t-shirts when I’m back, because I only have a few that fit me right–the rest are too tight or too big.” And I realized that every time I go back there, I’m super self-conscious about what I wear–but not when I’m in Sac or even here in Seattle.

When I was talking to Lisa, who I mentioned in my last entry, she said the same thing to me, even before I said it. She said when she goes to LA, she finds herself caring about what she’s wearing. So why is that? Is it because LA has this reputation for being big on fashion and looks? It’s not like I’m walking around “LA”–I’m just in the Valley among family and friends, so why do I feel this way?

It’s really strange, and I can’t answer my own questions. But what I know is that I don’t like that I react that way. I realized early on during my time living in LA that I became really self-conscious of my appearance–not to the point where I cared enough to buy a new wardrobe or spend more time getting ready in the morning–but I was always aware of how I looked, and how I compared with the people around me. And I really disliked that I was like that. That feeling hasn’t disappeared upon moving to Seattle, but I’m not walking around wondering if people notice that I don’t have brand-name jeans on, or that I don’t own a pair of pointy-toed shoes.

The point of this is not to bash people who do care about those things. The point that I need to focus on is to NOT CARE about what people think about how I look. So what if I am still wearing the same t-shirt I wore when I lived in LA two years ago (which, to many people, having a t-shirt for that long makes it OLD). Matt even knows which t-shirt I’m talking about, and he’s usually pretty oblivious to what people wear. It’s not like I haven’t washed it since then, and it’s not like it’s not still wearable, so why should I be hesitant to wear the same clothes I wore back then? I have to learn from my 10-year-old cousin, who truly believes that what is on the outside does not matter; it’s what is on the inside that counts.

At one time in my life, I really believed it and lived it. I had permed hair, braces, and glasses (hence Matt’s comment, “They let you be a cheerleader looking like THAT?!”)–all at one time, and I was confident about my personality and didn’t second-guess how I looked. I wasn’t cute, but I had the attitude that said, “I don’t care about how I look.”  I look at yearbook photos of when I was in jr. high when I wore my mom’s big parrot earrings, a bandana around my hair, and only wore huge t-shirts. I had some strange outfits. But I would give anything to go back to those days to get back a little of that confidence I carried around so I could exude that now, especially during those trips to LA.

I know this has been an issue for me for awhile now, but by getting it out here, I’m letting everyone know it’s something I really want to work on. I do care too much what people think a lot of the times, and that is one thing that I’m consciously working on in this new year. You’d think that by 30, I’d have a solid grasp of who I am. But I feel like I want to go back to being the person I used to be…and keeping her with me as I enter my 30s.

Wedding day!

Sichan, Matt, and I were supposed to decorate the wedding car, but when we got there, Auntie Mimmy and Sam were already tying ribbons on it. In the photo here, Matt and Sichan really haven’t done much but are trying to look like they’re part of the decorating crew. Baldwin sure loves his car!

Since Baldwin and I grew up together, I was able to see a lot of familiar faces at the wedding, some of whom I have seen more often during trips to Sac, but also others whom I hadn’t seen in years. One of these friends is Gary Quan, who was pretty close to our family back in the high school days, but I haven’t seen him since I lived in SF. I also saw Jahmal and met his wife! I met Jahmal on my second trip to Mexico, so I was in 7th grade at the time. He was one of a small group of people from a church in SF that joined our church for a weeklong missions trip to an orphanage in Mexico every summer. He and I went pretty much every year for the next 4 or 5 years, so the last time we had seen each other was back in the mid-90s! He looks the same, and he said I looked the same, “except with an adult haircut.” I wish I had made more of a point to catch up with him and to get to know his wife, but since we were at different tables at the reception, I didn’t make the effort. :( He is still as much of a crackup now as he was back then. In Baldwin’s wedding video, he said, “When I first met Baldwin, he said that I wanted to be Chinese. But I said to him, ‘Look who’s talking? You’re Chinese, and you want to be a RAPPER?’” hehe…

I also ran into Ryan and Lissa, friends from my SF church. It’s funny how people are connected. Turns out Lissa and Larissa are old college buddies! Ryan and Lissa are expecting their first baby this summer–congrats!

Along with reuniting with old, old friends, it was nice to see people that I keep in touch with but still don’t see that often…and of course, the newlyweds! (every time I come back with photos like these, I always wonder why I take the same boring photos with people?! We have to liven them up a little more, like do a human pyramid or something…)

OK, I know this entry is dragging, so I’ll hurry it up a bit. The wedding was beautiful, food was good (especially the white chocolate heart dessert with berries!), and the wedding video was entertaining (mock Hollywood documentary about the couple, which also mentioned their “mixed marriage” between a Lakers and Kings fan, just like us!).

One of the cool things that came out of the wedding (for us) was that we met another couple that attends New Hope in Sac. I finally met THE Lisa that people keep asking me if I know. She works with my sister and also knew my parents from Grace Bible Church. Not only did we meet her and her husband, they offered to give us their free passes to Sea World (my favorite!!), and we ended up talking to them for awhile in the parking lot of their hotel after we got the passes from them. Turns out Lisa also is a fan of gloomy weather, and her husband has always wanted to go to Olympic National Park–so hopefully we will see them up here sometime soon.

So in addition to going to the zoo, we also got to go to Sea World! We had just been there two years ago when we went to SD for Heather and Eugene’s wedding, but I could sit and watch marine animals for hours, so I was really excited about going again. I practically dragged Matt across the park so we could make it to the Shamu performance, and seriously, those creatures are so amazing I want to cry when I watch them. I think my sister-in-law, Sarah, would be perfect as a whale trainer. She’d be able to swim with them and perform acrobatic tricks. This performance was not as good as the one we saw last time. This time, they had dancers dressed up like trainers, but all they did was stand off to the sides and do go-go dance moves. And toward the end of the show, the huge screens in the background opened up to reveal some random, long-haired rocker guy doing a guitar solo. The cameras zoomed in on him, and he just rocked on. Do I really care to watch him play? NO! Bring out the whales!

(The third photo is blurry, but I wanted to post it–it shows my favorite move of the Shamu show. The trainer dives under the water with the whale and then emerges at the tip of the whale’s head, and flies off!)

We missed the dolphin show, but still got to see the penguin exhibit. Last time we were there, we saw a group of penguins penned up, and those penguins were the ones protecting their eggs, while other penguins stood outside the pen staring in. (Remember “March of the Penguins”?) It’s not mating season yet, so this time, we saw penguins swimming around and sleeping. It’s amazing how fast they are in the water, and how they shot up out of the water and landed on their feet on the ice. Many times, the ice was so slippery that they’d slip back into the water.

We caught a short fireworks show at Sea World before heading out for dinner. We were going to go to the Gaslamp district for dinner, which we heard was the happening place to be, but as we drove around, we noticed that everyone was hootchified and lining up for clubs. We were turned off by that (and by the lack of parking), so we went to Little Italy instead. As we drove down the street of Little Italy, we noticed that the people walking around were all grey-haired. “Cool, old people,” we said. “This is more our style.” (I don’t know if that is more funny or sad…)

Our apartment hosts, Heather and Eugene, came back from a weeklong getaway to Mexico (with sunburns and pictures of their afternoon with a dolphin!!), and we got less than an hour of catching up with them before we had to go to bed. We had to be up by 4:30 the next morning to return our rental car and catch our flight.

So I’m finally done. My California adventure is done. We got a nice dose of family time, friends, and even sightseeing–all you can ask for on a trip!