Medici

I was not a fan of history in school. Memorizing names and dates really wasn't my passion or my strong suit. However, I've found that lately I have a change of heart.

I feel like there is so much to be gained from an understanding of history, life lessons already discovered in someone else's lifetime. So I've taken it upon myself to try to go back and learn about history.

However, I've chosen to learn history on my own terms. For one, I'm reading it. Books are cool. (Yeah, I'm one of those nerds.) And secondly I'm not starting from the dawn of time and working my way forward. I'm choosing things I find interesting and actually want to learn more about.

I just finished reading "The House of Medici: Its Rise and Fall" by Christopher Hibbert. Shockingly enough it is about the Medici. (...) I chose this book to be my first official foray back into history because, the time frame is around the Renaissance, a time period I find fascinating ... obviously. The other interesting part of this book is the family and the way in which they ruled. Previously, the people in power got there using brute force. The Medici both got into a position of power in Florence and (to some extent) defended their place using political tactics. A revolutionary change that exemplifies the Renaissance.

It was interesting reading about a family dynasty. Each generation there was turmoil as the citizens of Florence doubted that the new Medici would be able to live up to the generation before. This family had a hand in building almost every single important building in Florence and were the patrons of some of the most famous Renaissance artists: Da Vinci, Botticelli and Michelangelo. They had two Popes in their ranks. They gave Galileo a safe place to retire to. (Isn't it weird that we refer to Galileo by his first name, when most other historical figures are called by there last names?) This family was ALL over the Renaissance.

Anyway, the book is a good read, but dense. Any good recommendations for histories or biographies out there?

~Claire Out.

Hot Yoga

About a week ago an incredibly friendly co-worker of mine asked if I would want to join her for some morning yoga. I had been invited last season as well, but had declined due to scheduling difficulties. This season I have a much easier start time, and obviously a new found craving to try new things. So I accepted.

This morning I went to my first yoga class ever.

You see, I had avoided yoga in the past because I had it in my mind as an activity for very skinny very flexible women, not really a mental picture I associate with myself. I also used to avoid ever working out at the gym because I become deeply self-consciousness when working out with other people. (It's the potential judgement...It's stupid....I'm trying to get over it) But today I was ready to face my fears.

Did I mention that this was hot yoga?

Ninety minutes. One hundred and five degrees. Twenty plus Yogis. And me.

It went surprisingly well.

I'll admit, I didn't do everything the 'regular' crowd did. There were times when I was just standing (or laying on the floor) while most of the others were twisting themselves into complex shapes. I did, however, attempt almost every pose. (I was relieved to see they were pretty simple) Some poses were successful. I rocked out the half moon. Some poses were not. There was one that required me to grab my foot and it kept sliding away from me like a greased pig. (What? It was hot in there!) But overall I had a marvelous time.

I have never been so in touch with what my body was feeling before. Perhaps it was because my body was screaming 'Holy MOLY it's hot!', but I'd like to think it was something more than that. Since I had absolutely no reference point to judge myself against I had to continually make sure I wasn't hurting myself. I kept thinking, are you dizzy? Are you thirsty? Is that a good stretch or can you go further? Quite frankly, I think my body was flattered by the attention of my conscious thought. And because I didn't know what to expect at all, I was completely focused on each pose. It was freeing and downright fun to push myself to see what my body was capable of doing.

Basically, I'm sold. I'm planning on going back this Thursday. While it is too expensive for me to adopt for an all-the-time workout. I plan on indulging in maybe a few sessions a month as a little treat to myself.

Impromptu Camping

On Friday I was pleased to discover that Mike had a free weekend. "No big deal", you might say to yourself, dear reader. However, I assure you it is a big deal. You see, Mike goes to a school that requires absolute allegiance. You must be photographing, developing photographs or talking about photographs all of your waking hours, all semester. The only saving grace is that he loves it. I was thrilled with the idea of being able to go on an adventure that wasn't focused on photography.

My very first instinct was CAMPING. It has been so beautiful the past few weeks that my mind has been drifting to all of the fun activities that summer brings. When I suggested camping, Mike didn't point out the obvious flaws in my plan, (i.e. we only really had 24 hours, it was last minute, and we didn't know anywhere to go) but instead was excited by the idea.

We decided to go to Malibu Creek State Park, which is barely thirty miles from my front door, but offers beautiful green things that L.A. proper seems to lack. (Aside from my awesome garden that is ...)

Mike and I took off Saturday morning with all our gear packed up. We were lucky and they had a camp site available for us. We set up camp and went on a hike down around the river, and up to above Mulholland Drive. The views were beautiful!

Mike showed off his Oregonian roots by sprinting up hills. I went for the very (very) slow approach. But I got there in the end.

We returned to our camp tired but happy to have discovered such a beautiful place so nearby. I got to utilize my Girl Scout fire building skills, and Mike cooked up some delicious hot dogs. There is something so special about sitting around a campfire. People get more philosophical, they share more, and bask in the essental human-ness of gathering 'round a fire. *bliss*

After getting crushed at Gin Rummy, and reading maybe two pages of my book I fell asleep soundly asleep. Mike was not so lucky. You see two of our neighboring campsites were having celebrations. . . parties you might say. Mike and I giggled a little about how loud they were while we enjoyed our hot dogs, and muttered at how loud they were when we played cards. I was certain that by 10pm (park quiet hours) they would tone it down. I was asleep by no later than 9:45 last night. (Hiking is hard, okay?) Apparently the quiet hours inspired the groups to get even louder. Mike was wide awake, I continued to sleep. The Ranger came and asked the to be quiet, but they continued on. Mike was unable to sleep, I was sawing them off. The Ranger asked again, and again they partied on. Then the people were ARRESTED.

That's right. ARRESTED. I slept though two drunk men being arrested twenty feet from me. According to Mike they resisted arrest and backup in the form of the sheriff had to be called before they went off into the night. I might have a sleeping disorder. That certainly can't be evolutionarily advantageous. Once that one group had people arrested, apparently they other party campers took it as a sign that they should bump up the volume. Mike reports their favorite slogan was "It's my birthday!", from an increasingly drunken girl. They didn't stop until SIX-A.M. Yikes.

So while our day spent hiking was delightful, the actual sleeping portion of our adventure had mixed results. Poor Mike had to nap away much of a beautiful Sunday in order to recover from his (literally) sleepless night. However, we've discovered a great camp site close by that hopefully we'll return to throughout the approaching summer season. I can't wait to get back there, I just hope next time we have better neighbors.

~Claire Out.

Green Thumb

It has been a while since I've updated about my little garden. Things seem to be doing okay, despite the recent cold spell. Here, join me on a tour.

These little guys are still in the mini pots. My peppers, tomatoes, basil, chives and parsley are all here. I like to keep them in the tray for a little longer, since I can easily bring them inside when the weather get's cold.

Can I grow lettuce or what?

Below, you can see my squash plant is starting to fill out it's enormous pot.

My strawberries. I cannot WAIT to be enjoying these this summer.

And look at how well my row of edamame are doing.

But the real excitement was waking up Sunday morning to see these.

Yes, this.

I have FLOWERS on my PEA PLANTS. I am so impressed with my gardening skills, I cannot even tell you.

What's the saying? February showers bring March flowers? I guess I'm a tad early. Oh well. I'll keep you posted on any further developments.

Claire Out.

Stress Test

Dear readers, some of you may know that I work as a production assistant, which is film industry code for "currier". I basically drive all around LA picking up and distributing hard drives, paperwork and DVDs. So, I thought nothing of it when I was given the task of picking something up across the wide valley. I gathered the essentials I would need for my journey, I filled my water bottle and grabbed a snack pack of chocolate covered pretzels. (Low blood sugar = road rage, don't judge.) I jumped in my car, took note of my milage and prepared myself for a grueling journey. But my car, dear readers, would not start. You see I was in for a grueling journey of another kind.

(Please excuse the length of this post. I will not be offended in the slightest if you have better things to do with your time then read my cautionary tale. However, I will say I wrote it in the style of the TV show "24" for your amusement.)

2:10pm
I get into my car and turn the key. My car says, "Key Missing". I say, "The key isn't missing you fool, it's in the cup holder!" (My key is one of those 'fancy' ones you don't actually have to put into the engine to start. The car just senses it's there. ... Except my car wasn't) I moved the key up next to the steering wheel and tried again. Nothing. I move the keys to the other side. Still nothing. Panic rising I get out of the car, and then back in and try again. The car insists the "key is missing".

2:17pm
Back upstairs in my office pouring over my car's manual. Had an awkward conversation with my office mate who thought I had left seven minutes ago. I end up calling the Mistubishi dealership I usually go to in Orange County to try to figure out what is wrong. HE recommends that I use the emergency key which is hidden within the fob.

2:24pm
Back downstairs in the parking garage feeling foolish that I didn't know I had this emergency key. I jump into my car, pop off the protective plastic, turn the key and - hear the pitiful sound of an engine trying and failing to turn over. My solution foiled.

Obviously I tried this several more times in the hopes that I was just doing it wrong. That's right, I was sitting alone wishing I was turning an engine key incorrectly and if I just did it right my car would come back to life. Things were getting desperate.

2:28pm
Back upstairs (good cardio this day I must admit) on the phone to my Dad. Claire: The car will not start, what should I do? Dad: Call Triple A. Claire: Duh! Thanks Dad.

(Small side note: I have killed not one, but TWO family cars in the past three years. I totaled my VW Bug that I loved, and the family mini-van died of old age while in my care. I know it was going through my mind, and likely my dad's that it would be REALLY bad if I killed a third.)

3:02pm
Triple A arrives! I catch my new best friend, David, up to speed on what's going on. He explains that I am a fool for trying the emergency key, since it is only to unlock and lock doors. But he suspects that my problem is all to do with my battery, and he'll see what he can do.

3:15pm
My battery seems fine, so David is stumped, but reinforcements in the form of Fred arrive shortly to assist. Fred gets an inspiration. The EMERGENCY KEY. He kindly explains that I have an emergency key that I can use to start my engine. He tries it. It doesn't work. I am unable to hold back from saying that I got as far as that before I even CALLED Triple A. They think using the key and battery charger in tandem might be the key to success.

3:19pm
No success. They think that because the battery is dead and the key is dead that the car's security has "locked them out" of being able to fix it. So I should have it towed.

3:21pm
I run upstairs to research the nearest dealership to take it to while Fred and David wait kindly with my car. Glendale. For those of you who don't live in LA, Glendale is about a million miles from Santa Monica, where I work. This could be expensive indeed. I call up the service department, explain my story, (again) and set up an appointment for the next morning to have my car looked at. This phone call also revealed that the car is still under warranty and I could have it towed for free though Mistubishi. Great News!

3:25pm
I run downstairs, thank Fred and David for their help and tell them that since I need to go so far, (more than the Triple A 10 free miles) I'll get Mistubishi to find me a tow truck.

3:28pm
My first call to Mistubishi roadside assistance. I explain my problem, and ask for a tow to the Glendale service department. Indeed my car is under warranty, so they'll take care of the cost of the tow. (Yay!) They ask a few vital statistics, like the address, if it is a business, and what the clearance is on the parking garage. They say they'll call me back when they've found a towing company. How easy was that?

3:45pm
My representative Cashley from Mistubishi roadside service calls me to say she is having a very hard time finding me a towing company that is able to get into the low clearance of 6 foot 3 inches. She is still trying but she'll get back to me.

4:06pm
I borrow my bosses car to drive to my apartment in hopes of finding my other key to the car. I don't have high hopes since I have no recollection of it ever being in my possession. I turn my apartment upside down looking in every likely place. Alas. No luck.

4:34pm
Cashley calls again, she tells me there is NO TOWING COMPANY IN ALL OF LOS ANGELES THAT CAN TOW MY CAR. However, she says the service department can fax me some instructions that sort of 'reboot' my car and allow me to start it twice. (...) But she says it is very complicated, and I might not be able to do it. I tell her to fax me the directions, and I'll see if I'm up to it.

4:40pm
The directions are faxed. It is all about timings and button pushing. There is no way I'll be able to do this without seriously messing up my car. I call the service department. Is there any way they can send out a mechanic to perform this function on my car for me? Impossible.

Just to be clear, that leaves me with a car that cannot be towed to the service station, nor can a mechanic come to my car. This is when things get ugly.

4:51pm
I'm on my 50+ call to Cashley (it seems) and I start to get a little angry. It isn't my fault my car broke down where it did. Cashley needed to do something about it!!!!!

4:52pm-5:45pm
Radio silence. I call Mistubishi several times demanding to talk to Cashley. I am reassured every time that she is on the line with a 'supervisor' and she is hard at work on the case.

5:48pm
Cashley calls. She found me a tow truck that can get me out. They'll be there in a half an hour. (JOY)

6:27pm
The tow truck arrives. It is too big to fit into the parking structure.

6:28pm
Despair.

6:29pm
The tow truck guy, who's name I don't recall, came up with a devious plan. He would push my car to the exit, then he would back down an exit ramp grab me and tow me out. He would do this, obviously, at six thirty when everyone in my office building was trying to leave from said exit ramp.

Carlos, our parking guy in the building, is a saint. He listened to the tow truck guy's plan, approved it and helped make it happen. (Somebody's getting thank you cookies!)

6:50pm: I was in charge of blocking traffic at the bottom of the ramp so they could keep it clear. I went from car to car to explain why they had to wait. People were SO nice. I was offered rides from people I hadn't ever met, they were so concerned and didn't mind waiting at all. My faith in humanity was temporarily restored.

7:30pm
My faith in humanity is destroyed. As I the tow truck guy and I are pulling away, he asks me which way I want to get to Glendale. I say he can pick, since I'm not paying for this. He laughs and says I scared him. I laugh and say 'what?'.

It dawns on me that he expects to be paid for the million mile tow to Glendale.

I call Mistubishi.

Some words were said in anger. Some words that probably don't need repeating. I passed my phone back and forth between the people at Mistusbishi and my driver then I was put on hold.

While on hold - Mike calls. Mike lives near Glendale. I need him to pick me up. He has class. I ask him to leave class because everything is a disaster and life is terrible and I need help. I start to weep uncontrollably. Mike agrees to pick me up in an hour when I get to Glendale.

(Another side note: you know when you are in a stressful situation? And you get to these road blocks? The childish part of you wants to throw your hands up, cry, and let someone else handle things and the adult part of you suspects you should probably figure out a solution yourself, because someone isn't coming in to help you with this. But still there are days when things spiral out of control (like yesterday) and you realize, despite your adult attitude, that you just can't do things by yourself. So at that moment when Mike called I was having just that realization and I cried both from frustration for needing his help and utter thankfulness that he was able to help me.)

Mistubishi is back on the line and I managed to stop crying. After several more phone calls they discover that my tow truck driver has indeed been paid and we set out across Los Angeles.

7:50pm - 9:00pm
The kind tow truck man talked to me and tried to keep me cheerful.

9:00pm
We arrived safely, I dropped off my car and key at the "Nite Owl" drop box and met up with Mike.

Again, let me just say, THANK GOODNESS for Mike. He listened sympathetically to my rantings about my terrible day, made sure I got dinner and kindest of all, let me drive his car on Tuesday while mine was in the shop.

The rest of the tale is sort of anti-climatic. They identified the problem was that my car key had somehow gotten de-programed and they fixed it. All under warrantee. I was able to be reunited with it tonight.

I felt that in the spirit of my blog I would share with you my first experience at dealing with car trouble . . . you know . . . aside from those two other cars that died on my watch. A new experience from which I learned a lot. A cautionary tale.

~Claire Out.