Surprise - La France

I stepped out from the taxi cab, and planted a foot for the first time in La Cote Saint Andre, in the dark, cool night. La Cote Saint Andre; the birthplace of the French Romantic composer, Hector Berlioz. Napolean Bonaparte, Isabella, Louis Philippe, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Charles Dugal. The list goes on and on. For as much as I was astonished by how much history and how many stories have been born in this amazing country; none like any other I’ve been in before, I never anticipated the overwhelming feeling I would have to visit such a land for the first time.

It was a clear night, and too dark for me to see the French Alps, stretching and towering far down the horizon. The street, Chemin du Pre de la Chere, was very well lit, too. There was a peaceful, quaint and quiet atmosphere. The very helpful and friendly taxi driver (whose name to this day I dare not try to spell or pronounce) and I scratched our heads, noticing there did not appear to be any clear addresses on the buildings. The forty-minute ride from the Lyon Saint Exupery Airport consisted of a great exchange of elementary French, and I was the only person in France who knew what I was there for.

My girlfriend, Leith, was living on Chemin du Pre de la Chere. Trying my best to communicate with the very helpful taxi driver by using a “French Phrases” mini book, I was successful in making it clear that I didn’t speak a lick of French, and I quickly learned that he didn’t speak a lick of English. “320 Chemin du Pre de la Chere”, I kept repeating to him.

Six kind people and a golden-retriever of the town noticed I could not find what I was searching for.

One by one, the people were demonstrating how helpful they were by insisting to help me find my way.

With the help of the townspeople, and the golden retriever, I was led to a building, with a minute sign attached, just a few inches high. “320” the sign read.

It was a very beautiful night in La Belle France.

Halloween 2009

A witch, a wiseman, an airline pilot, Reno 911 officers, a gorilla, a jailbird, a Julia Child, and more. I absolutely love Halloween. Growing up, Halloween was one of my favorite holidays of the year. There was something very exciting and special about gearing up for Halloween. My sweet tooth envisioned a pillow case (or two) full of colorful sweet treats, despite all those scare stories us kids heard regarding poisoned candy from spooky strangers whose doors we knocked on and door bells we buzzed in hopes of our favorite glob of sugar. And for me, in particular, those delightful sour candies topped them all. Crybabies, Lemonheads, and Sweet Tarts aside, I loved the idea of not knowing which costumes I was going to see on the eve of November.

This year’s Halloween was no different, though the costumes over the years have grown taller, and with slightly more apparent grown-up bellies underneath. I still love Halloween so much. This year’s Halloween party was at Sheri’s house, one of our fire fighters. Every year Sheri hosts her annual Halloween party at her house which overlooks the congested valley, with a perfect deck to support us, partying and gathered in our costumes. Karat and other EtOH beverages always within an arm’s length, a party-fashioned potluck assembly of homemade casseroles, fine creamy cheeses, warm chocolate chip cookies and more.

I love how choices of Halloween costumes can be so reflective of the times too. Surely last year’s hits were Barack Obama and Sarah Palin, and at this year’s party there were hits such as Julia Child, Cheech (from “Cheech and Chong”) and even myself: Bernie Madoff (See: Photo of jailbird).

It wasn’t that long ago I was trick-or-treating with my friends. In middle school (and even one year in highschool), I would walk around during the dark hours casually with my friends, Ricky and Chris. Sure we would carry along our pillow cases, but as “big kids”, we were seeking out each and every haunted house fabricated in front of single family dwellings. Fortunately for me, Crybabies, Lemonheads, and Sweet Tarts were still in business for Halloween.

For as much as I love seeing the excitement and joy in kids during Halloween, as a grown-up it is still very exciting for me.

Meez

Meez, Meez, and more Meez.

At our house, we have five animals. Three dogs, and two cats. They are all so, so awesome. I can’t imagine living without a companion like these animals have been. I love them all. But I want to dedicate this blog to Meez, one of my cats, who has recently been bit by one of our dogs, Cooper (with this came an injury to my mom’s hand). He is a Seal Point Siamese, and is over a year old now. He is extremely energetic, always wants to play with the dogs, and is one-of-a-kind.

Randi Rose with our dog, Belle, as a puppy.

Before we got Meez, we had a nineteen year-old Chocolate Point Siamese cat named Randi Rose. She was a cat beyond words throughout her lifetime. She always seemed to be there throughout all the years I was growing up, and she held a special place in my heart. When she died, after living such a merry, mellow life, there was such a feeling of emptiness in the family. I will never forget her.

One day, my mom said a cat was brought into one of the fire stations because it was found by a caring coworker named Carla, dumped in a busy intersection. Cars were racing by, one after another, and the poor little kitten, at about three months old, was crying for his dear life! I came home from class, and the poor guy was upstairs by my bedroom. He looked like a Siamese; perhaps entirely Siamese. Heck, I’ll call him Meez!

With the loss of Randi Rose, Meez has had very large shoes to fill. But we’re very thankful for Meez, because he seems to be a final knot in tying the family.

When You Get Thrown Curveballs

It seems to me that life throws you curveballs in bunches, and there is simply nothing you can do to keep them from coming.

Our dog, Cooper, bit my cat, Meez, and wouldn't let go! Thankfully, my mom was there, and dove between the two, trying to pry Cooper's teeth out from Meez. He had a deathly vice grip. The horrible, bloody screaming and struggled from my mom and Meez lasted for a minute or so. This left my mom's hand extremely injured, from either cat scratches, bites, or both. My poor mom! Also, this left Meez's abdomen pierced with a dime-sized hole from Cooper's teeth. Poor thing! Today, my mom went into hand surgery because it appears some tendons have lacerations, which is not a good thing! Today's surgery on my mom appeared successful, but the repair is not close to being complete. In two days will be her next round of surgery, and I'm really pulling for my mom in this. She has had so much on her mind lately too, which is really a bummer, and as a son I really need to step up to the plate! My mom has done so much for my sister and I throughout the years. Thankfully too, my stepdad is awesome.

The cat, Meez, had a few stitches put in because of the puncture by Cooper's teeth. $1000 vet bill later, I am following the veterinarian's orders of twice daily applying betadine, and somehow, someway, getting an antibiotic pill down his throat. That very same day, after all the horrible, bloody murder in the stairwell between Cooper and Meez, Meez was wandering around as if Cooper was never even there! I've simply never met a cat so confident and daring, nevermind have one!

How about my aunt, as a trustee for my deceased grandmother, sending me a letter in the mail requesting that I have "no further contact with herself, her husband, or her son (my cousin)," after asking her for a copy of my grandmother's trust? Or even better: that my aunt is "deeply disappointed in my level of maturity" after asking for a copy of my grandmother's trust? Or my uncle, from whom I asked a copy of the trust, who called me every name in the book after asking him. It's not money I seek here, it's simply a copy of the trust. May I also get a side of "accountability"? I feel far above this matter, perhaps even in an arrogant sort of way, so I plan on leaving, or even addressing, this with class. Afterall, this is all about my grandmother here.






Only a month or two ago, Skype was only something I had head people talk about and see the insignia on "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" and thought it was still trying to break outside Europe like Starbuck's instant coffee drink "VIA" has too, but only better. I had heard people bragging about how cheap it is, how they were speaking with people (and lovers) on the other side of the world via the Internet and its Voice-Over-IP (VoIP) protocol, and I felt so much out of the loop. But why would I even need Skype? Well, before Leith moved to France, she introduced me to Skype and its awesome feautures. I can chat, like AOL Instant Messenger, speak like over the telephone, and use live webcam. $0.02 (€0.013 or so) per minute to Leith's landline in France, now how about that? I've got the dialing pattern of 011 + the country code for France, "33", + the local number (without the zero) down to an incredible science. Skype should look into hiring me for one of their testimonies on their next television advertisement :)

Even though over 6,000 miles away, Leith continues to remind me how she is always there for me; always more than available to listen and take in these curveballs that flood my mind (and quite romantic if I may add too ;). As always too, she assures me that she's in full support and her wonderful, deep, caring nature brings me so much comfort. It means the world to me.

In the meantime, there is romance to be made here at 180 Camp Joy Road. An address in which you would find some wonderful, amazing animals. Time for a walk :)

Take care for all who are actually reading this! :)

The Latest in Sports

San Francisco Giants

The San Francisco Giants, with about a week left of regular season baseball, are still several games back in the National League Wild Card. They are definitely a great surprise in the National League, as they were not even expected to finish above the .500 mark. The Giants pitching featuring Lincecum, Cain, and an array of solid, young relievers like Brian Wilson, has allowed this team to compete throughout the entire, 162-game season. The young, talented hitter Pablo Sandoval, has consistently hit over .330 during the season, and has helped carry this skimpy offense, which has, by far, the fewest homeruns and walks in the National League. While I don't expect the Giants to make the playoffs this season, they certainly have caught the attention of many, and next season is certainly one I'll be excited for!






The Ohio State Buckeyes

With only a few games into the season, Ohio State has fallen below the Top 10 after an 18-15 loss to Southern California last week. This week, Ohio State beat the University of Toledo 38-0, which has bumped them to #11 in the standings. With plenty of football ahead, I expect the Buckeyes to take the cake once again in the Big Ten. Michigan, surprisingly, is 3-0, and may give Ohio State a run for their money. The Ohio State-Michigan rivalry is one-of-a-kind, and absolutely love that every game against Michigan means the world. The crowd, the energy, the excitement, and the fact that only one of the two teams can come out as victorious, never fails to lift the Ohio State-Michigan game to one that's watched all across the country. As it's always the last game of the regular season, the Ohio State-Michigan game is usually very full of BCS implications, which makes it that much more special.

Leith

Leith has changed my life. After moving back home from college, our schedules were quite different. She worked at Threshold Enterprises, performing the dreaded data entry, working for a self-centered vitamin fanatic. I was back in school after a change of career, and working part-time for my hometown Fire Department with the inspectors.

Leith and I, as two college graduates in that awkward post-college stage in life moving back in with our families who live in a small town in the Santa Cruz Mountains, walk our dogs down a small, narrow, beautiful, scenic road full of Redwood trees. After moving back home from college, our schedules were quite different, so I would be lucky to see Leith even once during a the span of a month. Every time I would have the chance to see her, I couldn't help but acknowledge her beauty, and every time I would see her on that windy, Redwood-filled Irwin Way, I wanted her to see me at my best. Leith would walk a Whippet, named Wicca. Also, two Italian Greyhounds named Flidais and Fergus. But very notably, Leith would walk Mab and Oenghus, who were two paraplegic miniature dachshunds Leith so kindly pushed in a baby carriage. She seemed to absolutely adore animals. From the bottom of my heart, I loved that! Her face and body were of the utmost beauty. Her voice was soft, pleasant, and lovely. I knew I was very attracted to this woman, and I knew I wanted to ask her out.

But there was a caviot: About half the time I'm on Irwin Way I am overheated, gasping for air, and dripping sweat. As a runner on Irwin Way, I felt asking her out while dripping with sweat wasn't quite the way to go. It was not very often I saw this woman, so during the next chance I would get, I was going to ask her out!

Under the sun and somewhat in the cool shade of the Redwoods, gasping for air and overheated by a routine Saturday afternoon run down Irwin Way, I saw that, with Leith taking her dogs Mab and Oenghus for a walk, her and I were going to cross paths! She was warm and welcoming as always, and her beauty drew me closer. Mab and Oenghus were amazing too! They seemed so sweet! I asked Leith if she wanted to walk the dogs together the following weekend. She said yes!!!

September 11 - Reminder of Service

Bonsoir! (after 6:00 in the evening!, learned from my girlfriend, Leith)

Today gave me an extra strong sense and appreciation of service. As President Obama called for service to community on this day, eight years after the terrorist attacks on September 11^th, it helped me appreciate how fulfilling service and community are.

Sometimes I forget what in the name of Peter from Family Guy my life has to do with service. Life as a Fire Prevention Specialist in the Santa Clara Fire Department can sometimes make my day feel like one of monotony, and not quite service.

The hot, sweltering heat of the day prompts me to have a water bottle and sunglasses within reach at all times during inspections, and walking through each and every one of the oven-like, preheated $69 per night motel units spraying canned smoke at detectors. My girlfriend, and highlight of my day, Leith, is on my mind, and the chance to call her as soon as the inspection of all forty-three units is completed won’t come soon enough. I would very much rather savor her beautiful voice. Getting down on my hands and knees, pushing, pulling, and yanking box-springs and nightstands to rat out unlawful extension cords and dysfunctional smoke alarms, while taking routine peeks through the motel window in search of the queue from the on-duty manager that the next room is ready to be inspected too, reminded me exactly what this is all about.

Trying to remain respectful, yet forceful, in telling an owner strapped in a Louis Vuitton business suit, that, in no way are these poor, innocent people whom this riche guy in a fancy, schmancy suit makes this arrogant, materialistic living off of, to be brought onto the second floor of his recently purchased run-down real estate. What is this all about?

Whether your call to service is to volunteer to help build homes, serve in a soup kitchen, join the Peace Corps, or run as a politician, this day will forever symbolize service.

The Birth of a Blog

Blogs are like people. They are born, as are babies under their parents. They grow, as time and maturation become a reality, and not just an idea. They have pictures, as one's first-hand encounters and imaginations recall, envision, forsee, and dream. They are shaped, as a person is by his or her physical environment, surrounding culture, peers, upbringing, feelings, tragedies, motivations, and countless more.

There is much pride in the lack of direction of this blog. Again: People grow, mature, and are shaped. Blogs are no exception.

Blogs are like: Modern Art!


















This is Andrew's blog, and I only want one blog in my lifetime. Too many times have I began a journal knowing that the journal was geared toward one subject. This caused me to be exhausted and overwhelmed, forcing me to put down the pen or stop typing entries. I refuse to keep up with multiple blogs about different experiences and stages in my life! Having one blog will help keep myself from a redundant array of blogs, and committed to Andrew's Blog.

In reading this blog, subscribers and browsers alike will both get to know and understand who I am, and that particular place in life. There is no need to give a background to myself in one entry, as the background will inevitably come.

Happy blogging! :)