LA: $5 and a Dream

Last month I had had a meeting in LA and rather than drive in crazy LA traffic, I decided to take mass transit instead. I LOVE Amtrak. I could go on for days about how proper it all is. How it makes me feel old fashioned and happy. I love the honor system with tickets, how you can choose your own seats, how you can sit and stare out the window at the ocean whizzing by. The big leg room, the clean seats and all the fun little buttons! I also love the snack car.

I took the train, then the subway, then a bus to get to my meeting. It was fun!

After my meeting was over, I jumped on the M20 bus on Wilshire. At the next stop we picked up a young mexican gentleman who had to beg his way on the bus because he had no money to pay for a fare. The bus driver reluctantly let him on. When he got on the bus he immediately tried to sit down, then stood up and then started happily screeching into his cellphone
"Ayyiiiiiiiiiii! I got the job! I got the JOB!" He was laughing, stomping his feet, rubbing his hairline and smiling from ear to ear as he explained to the other person on the line
"Yes! I got it! Yes! I know! I KNOW! I can pay RENT! I can keep my apartment! I got A JOOOOOB! Ayiiiiiiiii!"
The rest of the bus giggled as we watched him celebrate. I could relate. This economy has been hell on a lot of us, right? It was so refreshing and fun to watch him so elated about his new job. Then he hung up his phone.
He tried to sit still for a few seconds but then erupted again in celebration. He turned to the bus and said "Ohhh! I'm sorry! I'm just sooo excited! I couldn't pay rent, and I've been going to interviews riding the bus for free. I ran out of money and didn't know what to do! But now! I have a job! Ayiiiiiiiii! I am so happy! I am so happy! It's not a big job or anything! But it's a JOB!"

He cracked that hardened group of bus riders and we all yelled out our congratulations and some of us whistled and clapped for him.

He and I ended up getting off at the same stop. I ran up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Excuse me! I just wanted to say congratulations! And here is $5 to get a beer and celebrate. I know it's not much, but congratulations on your new job!"

He looked up, smiled, took the money and screeched "Oooh! Thank You! I'm going to go get a tea!" and then ran off towards Starbucks calling out "Thank You! Thank You!"

He had made my day. You can't get that experience on the 5.

Cut to: Yesterday. I had my second meeting in LA. I took the train, then the subway and as I was on the escalator going up to go catch my bus to my meeting, I heard a voice behind me say "Oh, I loooove my job!"

Without thinking, I turned around.
It was him.
Right behind me.

"It's YOU!" I yelled out joyfully, "The guy from the bus! I was on the bus when you GOT the job! I never come to LA and here I see you again! WOW! This is nuts!"
He smiled back "YES! Hi!!!!"
I continued, "You made me so happy that day! How is your new job!?"
"It's great!" he grinned "I already got a promotion!"
"Congratulations! My name is Amanda!"
"My name is Eric!"
We smiled, shook hands, and then I wished him a great day.
"Good luck!"
"Thank You! You too!"

I was buzzing with excitement. What are the chances? In a city as big as LA? With all the factors it would take to put Eric right behind me, on only my second trip... It was so fun to imagine all the magic that went into making those chance encounters happen.

I was over an hour early to my meeting, so I went to Ihop to sit and have a snack beforehand.

As I sat at my booth a young man suddenly stood up in the corner of the restaurant and shouted "Everyone! I need your attention! Please, look over here! Please!"

And then he dropped on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend.
"She said YES!" he called out.
The restaurant erupted in hoots, hollers and clapping.
I smiled and laughed.
I walked over to their table and congratulated them.
How adorable. Engaged at Ihop.

I paid my bill and as I left the restaurant and walked up to their waitress, smiling, and reached into my wallet. I knew exactly what to do...

"Here's $5 towards their bill...It's not much, but, they made me happy..."

Sunsets-30 / Charlie Sheen-0

Somewhere back in December I found myself watching "Two and a Half Men" while sitting on my couch as the sun somewhere west of me drifted off the horizon.
As I giggled to myself at the disgustingly naughty things Charlie Sheen was able to get away with saying and doing on syndicated television, I found myself wondering if maybe my time was better spent doing something else.
But what? I mean isn't this what EVERYBODY does at the end of the day?
Push back, grab a TV tray and escape in a little boob-tube?
But try as I may, I just couldn't enjoy myself. I was filling my brain with useless information, trashy conversations and really misogynistic crap.

I decided that for the entire month of January I was going to ignore the sheen of Sheen, and instead, go and see every single sunset. I'd keep a tally. One point for the Sunset if it made me feel good. One point for Charlie Sheen if I wished I would've seen Two and a Half Men instead.

I picked a good month to try this out. In fact, I kicked it off with a New Year's Morning surf session at Cardiff Reef, with a full moon blazing over the ocean. As I pulled into the parking lot with a radio station pumping "Push It" I got the feeling 2010 was going to be a good year.

But the real beauty came at the END of each day...
At the end of each day, I'd walk or drive down to the ocean and I'd either sit, balance, play fetch or all three while the sun dipped and set.

I learned a few things about sunsets and, it seems, life.
1. Sunsets are way more interesting if there a few clouds to get in the way.
2. Just showing up every day makes you feel good.
3. Dogs are the best companions.
4. Take time to really notice the changing and passing of time. Daily and monthly.
5. It is always calmer and more beautiful after the storm.
6. Silence is golden.
7. One day is never, ever like another one.
8. You can never have too many friends, invite them to see the sunset too.
9. Variation is good.
10. Sunsets are the best show on earth.



Last night, as the full moon shined bright, I realized I had only missed one sunset. I had had a meeting in LA and just simply couldn't make it to the coast. Not bad. Somedays it had stressed me out to think I had to adhere to this weird schedule. Somedays I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be able to see the sun set every day.

The collection of sunsets I saw this month was mind-boggingly dazzling. All kinds, types, styles and sorts. There were faded pinks, gray washouts, neon orange and pink blazing balls of fire, stormy armageddon clouds, double rainbows, yellow balls, wispy contemplative clouds, straight shooters, bubbly ones, sharp ones, misty ones, fast ones, slow ones, happy and sad ones. But each day stands out. Each one felt special. The end of each day, no matter what took place in it, ended in a completely different nature laser light show. You really can not predict the sunset.


I know I won't be able to do this my entire life. In fact, I might never have another month to try and do this for a long time. But I'm happy I did it. Really happy.

There is nothing as calmingly beautiful as knowing you'll see the sun set every day, with your best friend panting beside you.

So, bad news for Charlie Sheen. He got slaughtered. The sunset beat him every single time. No contest.

I still have one more sunset to catch this evening, but I'm pretty sure it's going to beat him again.
I can say with conviction that the final score will be (1pt deducted from monthly tally for the day I couldn't make it): Sunsets 30, Charlie Sheen 0

152

I loved being a kid. When every inch, tooth, and freckle that magically grew onto your body was celebrated and seen as a new triumph.
If your legs grew 2 inches over one summer? You simply found you could jump the crick better.
If you gained 10 pounds since the last time the school nurse weighed you? Score! King of the Mountain here I come!
If you were suddenly 1 inch taller? Why it may mean you could finally ride the Gemini at Cedar Point.
Big buck teeth? Sweet! You could cash in your discarded baby tooth with the fairy. That. Very. Evening.
Growing was good. Taller was better. Weight? Bring it ON!

Even after my early years, I played a bajillion sports. So, to me? My body was my instrument of attack and success. My long arms meant I could serve straight and fast in tennis. My long legs meant I could jump high in volleyball. My big feet meant I didn't need to wear flippers in the pool. It all worked out magically...

But then you become an adult. And really? Thank goodness. Because you can focus on things like your BRAIN more. Especially in places like New York City. My brain became my new vehicle. Except for the really rare occasion where I was asked to run in the company 5k, I was never relied upon for my athletic body.

Instead, my body was sadly relegated to the new adult task of attracting the opposite sex. My body wasn't used to this. It didn't know how to look sinewy or be graceful. It wasn't used to panty hose and stilettos. My body was used to corner kicks, batting cages and getting really amazing bruises. My body? It also didn't take kindly to all the sitting in the office.

It grew a little, well, pudgy. It was bored. It missed it's old life. But, it was an adult.
The only way I could tame this athletic body to look accepting to the males of New York City was to slightly starve it. Feed it lame dinners. Tell it a coffee was breakfast. That kind of thing. It got kind of skinny. Sometimes I would look like a bobblehead, just to fit in. It felt weak. It knew it couldn't run very fast, or lift anything really heavy anymore. In these times, I would take up running or go to the gym and I'd feed it again.

But it was hard. It was really a complete and total time sucker to work on keeping my body healthy. For the most part I really didn't enjoy running and I really hated gyms. I would get stoked over a new machine or a new pool for about a week, then I'd grow bored again. It took everything I had to maintain a mildly active existence in which I looked a healthy weight.

Then? I moved to California.
Then? I took up surfing.

The first year I was here I surfed so damn much I once again reached bobblehead status. I got too skinny. Solution? 1 lb burritos from Roberto's.

Ladies. There is nothing so marvelous as being extremely hungry and scarfing down a 1 lb burrito in about 4 minutes and feeling absolutely no guilt. Did you read that? NO GUILT.

I finally found an activity that made me feel like a kid again! I could surf for HOURS and not once think about my carbs or my calories or whether or not I had surfed long enough to deserve a 1 lb burrito. I just surfed.


I surfed every chance I got, as you hopefully know, and my body kind of mellowed out. It was finally at a place I really, really liked it and it was all because I did a physical acitivity I loved and ate good food, as much as I wanted in fact!

Then... this winter came.

Winter. Right? Ugh.

But before you get the wrong idea, let me just stop you right there. Winter in California does not mean that you hole up in your house and eat a bunch of nutroll. At least not for me. Winter?
Winter means two things: Cold Water and Big Surf.

So if on a normal, warm, small summer day you think you had a good time?
Try being freezing cold in head high waves.
You come out of that ocean with sore arms, tired legs and a belly screaming for a burrito.

(Oh, yeah, and I also have to wear 2 wetsuits. Which makes for a much more intense paddle. Some people can afford nice warm wetsuits, I double up with 2 castoffs and it works out just fine to keep me warm, but it's a bit stiff.)

In any event? This winter? I started getting jacked. Strong. Muscles. I found it fascinating.
Over Christmas we went to go to Church on Christmas Eve and I was literally busting out of my sleeves. (See above photo). I could flex my legs and smack them and nothing jiggled! Same with my back and my arms and my stomach. I found it fascinating and hysterical. I was becoming a super hero version of my previous office-pudgy self. I didn't really take it seriously. I kind of just found it amusing to flex and wondered how I was going to fit back into my summer stuff.

But then? Last week? We got a swell. A big swell. The biggest I had ever. EVER. attempted to surf.

I was totally and completely intimidated to paddle out, but I did it. I won't get into particulars here, because, well, I don't want to scare the crap out of my mother. But, on two occasions within the past week? The ocean gave me what for.

The first day, I got absolutely beat down, pounded and handed a monster wave straight to my forehead. I remained calm, held my breath, got tossed around, struggled, found my board, got back up, paddled back out to the line up and giggled nervously. It wasn't until someone next to me called out "You O.K.?" that I realized how nutso the situation actually had been. I got pounded some more, and finally made a wave in.

The second day I went out, I got so worked coming in that I literally ditched my board and then proceeded to get sucked in a rip tide. I kept my calm and swam in.

In both of these occasions, I was luckily guided by both Jorma and also by... my new body.

It took me a day or two to really process how much pressure, force and elements my body had just withstood. Now, I'm not saying that I did anything super human, in fact people surf that stuff all the time and do it just fine. But me? I wasn't used to this stuff! It was all new! And Big! And Scary!

But my new body handled it. Besides some bruises I came out of it all ok. And trust me on this one, I needed every single new muscle that I had acquired this winter to get me out of those situations. My body had been in training! That sneaky little devil! All those muscles I thought were so funny? They had a purpose! All that new weight? It was meant to be there! All of it! For me!

For the first time in my life I looked at my body a bit differently.
It's not for game, or for attraction or for merely getting my mind or heart to point A or B. It has a purpose. My body got me here. To dry land. And it will get me out there in the ocean, through the set, down the face and paddling back out, over and over and over again. Nice!

32. And I finally love my body.
All 151 pounds of it (152 if I've had that burrito).

sometimes...

sometimes?
sometimes...
sometimes, despite your best intentions, your sincerest apologies and your most heart felt extension to make amends...
you are met with
the angriest
ugliest
hate-filled person
and all
y0u can really do?
no matter how far you extend the olive branch?
no matter how much you wish them well?
no matter how much you walk away when they approach you with anger and hatred?
no matter how much you smile,
no matter how much you try to make everything ok
no matter how fast you walk away when they approach you with physical aggression?
you gather yourself.
you compose yourself.
and if?
and if they approach you, STILL, trying to break your serenity?
...
you sometimes have to dig deep and simply reply,
"go f*ck yourself"

Same Old. Same Old Amanda.

Like any self-respecting blogger, I really try and listen to what my readers say. I've noticed a bit of a trend lately...there isn't much being said.
"What gives?" I said to myself, right before I looked over my last few posts.

Ahhhh! It's quite obvious now. This blog is a personal blog, so I talk about myself, a lot. That is essentially it's purpose. But what made people like reading this blog (I think) is that it was honest and open and and I was unafraid to put myself out there.

I had unconsciously decided in my past few posts to be a bit inspirational (or try to). I had written some posts not to toot my own horn, but to share some things I had been trying, discovering or doing that had made me feel good, and that maybe might help other people feel good. I'm afraid I may have come across a bit, well, preachy.

I did the verbal/bloggy equivalent of sending out holiday cards. I'll explain. I've got some really beautiful holiday cards sitting behind my computer that people have lovingly sent me. Families kissing, hugging, in their best clothes, babies giggling, kids with santa, sisters laying across each other and getting along; All perfect, beautiful moments. And this is really what holiday cards (and photo albums) are about. Those beautiful moments, those ones you want to put out there and share with the world as if to say "We made it. We love each other. We're all healthy and happy and doing great and we wish you the same too."
I love those cards, they make me feel good and I catch myself staring at the smiling faces quite often.

However, blogging? Specifically, this blog? I've never been only about smiling faces. If my blog were a holiday card? It would have a montage of the baby's crappy diapers, the sisters as they sit staring out opposite windows of the backseat of the car, wiping out in big surf, me angrily packing boxes, and so on. You know, the shit between the lines. Life.

And so, I'd like to give you a little clean-up report so you all know just how normal and non-preachy my life is. Ready?

I wrote a blog post on how much I love being by myself and that I am glad I found solitude. All true! I arrived at this miraculous conclusion because I have about 3 friends. I can't make friends here. I am the plague. It's true. People either think I'm weird, come to think I'm weird or assume I'm weird. But in any event? I just don't have friends. YAY! Solitude!

I wrote a blog post on how I was writing secret admirer notes in order to get a little "spark". Back story? No one asks me out. EVER. No one. Again, the plague. I'm just not beach bunny material, folks. These girls here? They are adorable, they are gigglers and they are really great at cheering for their men while they surf. Me? Well, let's just say that this is something I'm not exactly a stranger to. I remember back in high school, we would play floor hockey against the boys and each and every time I would say to myself "Just take it easy, look cute, and don't get so damn sweaty." But, the puck would hit the floor and I'd start having so much fun that I'd be a dripping tomato by the end of gym class. Not exactly sexy. Same here, years later. I go all out. I surf like a maniac, I throw Dungee's ball like Philip Rivers and I get all sweaty, sunburnt and cut up doing it. Oh well. YAY! Single!

I wrote a blog post about "feeding the good wolf" because my "naughty wolf" is a hungry little devil. I make the same silly mistakes and make them quite often. For instance? I combined all my insecurities (making friends, going on dates and trying to fit in) at a party, a house party with bourbon. Let's just say bad wolf has a hankerin' for Maker's Mark. I didn't burn the house down or anything, but I did insist on using a very nice band as my own personal karaoke machine while I tried, unsuccessfully, to sing "Folsom Prison Blues". I cringe just thinking about it.

But the last post? Peace on Earth? I'm proud of. That one sincerely I did from the heart and have no evil backstory. I forgave people, I put myself out there and I did the right thing.

So, folks. It's still me. I'm bumbling, sweating, cussing and falling all over the place, but I'm doing it in a really beautiful place, trying to become better from my faults and all the while trying to remain happy while surfing as much as possible.

Same old. Same old Amanda.

Predictions and Suggestions for 2010! (and beyond)

Short shorts (think Magnum PI) will become the hottest fashion for men next summer.

NFL should schedule it so the last game of the regular season is played against your biggest rival.

Dungee will someday be the first black female president.

Amanda Curry will become the first female over the age of 30 to punt an air for the first time.

Chipped nail polish will be en vogue.

Wal-Mart will start selling quinoa.

Headbands and pegged jeans will be back in. Fanny packs too.

Women will start wearing their old 80’s prom dresses out.

Patron will be the drink of choice.

Amanda will become a multi-millionaire from her FootStone Business “Stone Enterprises” (backup name “Stone Inc.”) - now seeking investors.

The first 2 rows of every professional sports game should be given to firemen, policemen and the military.

Cabbage. Everyone will love cabbage.

Spidey says "Peace on Earth"

Just a few more days until Christmas!
If we all hurry we'll have plenty of time to grab all those last minute gifts, bake our little hearts out and jam in every last activity!

I'll admit. Normally? Around this time of year? I'm packing, shopping, wrapping and stressing. It's one big prep-fest. I love the magic of Christmas, because I have one of those mothers who still makes it feel magical. But as far as the real heart of the season? It's been a while since I felt that, if I ever did.

As I have come to expect from 2009, this won't be an average Christmas for me. In fact, it's turning out to be quite extraordinary already. Heading into this Christmas season I am left without the monetary resources to buy the normal assortment of gifts (read: I'm broke). Being broke at Christmas? It is wonderful. Truly, truly wonderful.

I don't even HAVE to consider going shopping, because I can't! So, instead of rushing around, I'm really contemplating this whole entire Christmas season thing.

Instead of gifts, I am giving time. I have lots of plans to meet up with those people that I love. Just to sit, chat and catch up. No red or green shiny strings attached. I've got sleepovers. High School Reunions. Wreath Making. Coffee Drinking. Movie Watching. Walk Taking. Snow Looking. You, know... the REAL stuff. The sit down, smile and share your heart stuff. I can't wait to go to snowy Meadville to see everyone!

In the meantime, as I sit in 70 degree weather in San Diego, I was really pondering the whole "Peace on Earth" message. It's really quite easy for us all to sit back and ask for peace on earth or sing for peace on earth or say we wish for peace on earth. The hard part? Starting peace on earth. You've heard it before. Peace begins at home, and in our own hearts. It's true! How can we ever expect some other person, group or nation to broker peace if we ourselves can't do it!

In the spirit of Christmas I did something I really never expected myself to do...

You see, I, like maybe alot of people, kind of revel in the possibility of brandishing glory, happiness or success in the face of those that have wronged me. You know how it goes. You envision the day you'll see an ex-colleague on the street and really be able to give them a tongue lashing, all while being fabulously successful at your new job. Won't it just be great to watch them swallow their pride once and for all?

I've had a few *ahem* instances in my far past and recent past where I had decided that I just didn't like said person (or people), that what they may have done to me was unforgivable and just one day, ONE day, I was gonna give them a hot steamy plate of revenge.

These little thoughts though? They stink. They made me feel hollow inside. Gross. Every time I would think about these little vengeful encounters a part of me would have one of those creepy "muah ha ha" laughs, but the other half, just wanted to be able to say "hello" and smile and call it a truce.

Calling a truce, though... isn't that conceding? Giving up? Swallowing your pride? Being weak?

I thought I would test it out, this whole "Peace on Earth" thing. I grabbed just two Christmas cards this year. Instead of mailing them to the people I love most in the world? I chose two that I despised. I took a big gulp, I took pen to the inside of the cards and I wrote simply, "Peace on Earth begins in our own minds and neighborhoods. Wishing you and your family a happy, healthy and prosperous Holiday and New Year."

Then, I signed my name, licked the envelope and really thought about those cards. Half of me wanted to mail them. Half of me wanted to rip them up and hold on to those bitter feelings.

But, I mailed them. I walked to my mailbox, shoved them in and put up the flag. Then, I left the house, because my mailman wasn't coming for a few hours and the last thing I wanted to do was have a Peace relapse.

As the day, week and month wore on, I noticed something miraculous! I felt lighter! Happier! More at PEACE. Making peace! It was magical! It felt right. It made me feel like I was truly in the Christmas spirit. Peace on Earth. Amazing.

I'm sure I've got more letters I need to write and more people to apologize to, or forgive or forget or all of the above. Honestly though? There is nothing more beautiful than realizing you can change, you can forgive and you can create peace where there was once something ugly.

Merry Christmas, if you aren't one of the people that I'm scheduled to see!
Peace on Earth, to absolutely anyone who reads this.

Enjoy and embody what truly matters this year, and all the years to come.

With a peaceful heart,
Amanda