Toes in the Clay

- - - I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand, not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand . Life is good today, life is good today. Adios and vaya con dios. - - - 

{ Toes, Zac Brown Band }

{ highway one }

It's gonna sound silly, but when I heard for the first time, recently, that East coast beaches don't have waves I let out your typical "nooo waaaay!" shriek like a 6 year old. I mean, what?! Still, when you really think about it the idea of standing on a beach is amazing. It kind of baffles me sometimes. You know you are right at the edge of this country, this huge piece of land! It's a nerdy, fleeting thought, but it's unbelievable when it really hits you. I think about this often living in the California central coast. I would think about it a lot too when I was young and growing up only a short road trip away from the beach; that same ocean I moved closer to coming to the States. Been by the same ocean, all my life.
It's not a big deal, but the idea is pretty darn cool.

{ pismo beach, 2012 }

My most vivid childhood image of that beach was the fiery hell that sand felt like! Standing barefoot for more than two and a half seconds was no joke, but I didn't mind because I ran straight for the waves the minute the car doors opened-- tiny 4 year old in her frilly, girly bathing suit and all. I'd then run back to our set up, bearing pruney little fingers, and grab some tostadas de ceviche with wet and sandy hands. No care in the world.

By no means am I your perfect, sun-kissed, flowing hair beach girl. I'm your very opposite of that. Despite living right by the sea all my life, I don't even know how to swim and I'm just too much of an overall priss to channel my inner child and run for the waves like I used to.

                                                                                                        { los alamos, 2010 }

To my surprise, turns out I'm a country girl in every sense of the word.

Country side vistas, horse ranches, and Brad Paisley. Yeah, the Mexican girl from the hot Sonoran desert beaches. The one who's also, no kidding, deathly afraid of cows.

Have I lost anyone yet?

I guess I could blame the fact that my grandparents' ranch was my second home in Mexico, apart from the polluted city life hours away. Put me, for the rest of my life, in a nice big country-like, redneck ranch an hour away from a beach and I'll die deliriously happy. I know, I'm central-coast spoiled.

Now, I just turned 22. Today. And I've been making a birthday post since the day I opened my LiveJournal, so it's a tradition now. I won't begin the long emotional lap of no longer being... 21. I'll save that one. It was another baby step.
The first of October marks so much for me. The start of the sweet, warm holidays, the best time of the year. I'm giddy already! {but what blogger isn't?} I want to say I feel... blessed. I live comfortably, I've come so far from the young girl raised in Mexico. I've got a big family and soulmate by my side.  I just bought my first car today, too. What more in the world could I ask for?

Happy as this pup sunbathing.

{ morro bay, avomargfest, 2013 }

I miss summer already, and though it wasn't that long ago it feels like a blur. Granted, it's the beautiful Californian central coast, so Autumn doesn't hit us like a brick, but it's here. I feel like we get Summer kisses year round; with our random scorching days mid-November and whatnot.

I try not to exaggerate, but truthfully the seasons affect me like you wouldn't believe. I very much respect them. They practically dictate my feelings and view of life-- everytime.
Look at me; reminiscing like it's the end of the year!
What it is is that October 1st does push a little REFRESH button, makes me push the brakes on the quickness of the passing year.

Adios verano, thank you for the warm tanning, perfect afternoon walks, the amazing Tim McGraw concert, the driving, bonfires, the fishes and avocados, the failed swimming lessons from my best friend, the stolen purse lesson-- thank you plenty.

✽terri

Life's Good.

There are two phrases I consider my little life mottos-- phrases I can always come running back to for comfort:

"Better safe than sorry."
&
"Stop worrying about things you can't control."

I don't always remember to tell myself these things but when I do, boy do I come back down to earth. Goes to show just how much I had floated up...

[Francisco is quite the bugger. Ripping up my journal and attacking my hair nest.]

I had my purse stolen a few weeks ago. 

Mark and I had a super relaxing and hot day tanning at the beach-- came back to a car with a broken window and stolen purse. Serious bummer. I always get this huge nagging guilt when I let myself down. It's different than disappointing someone I care about-- it's the most depressing feeling knowing I made a mistake that affected me so greatly-- let myself down. It's all been resolved now, but going through the process that day and the few after was just gloomy. Every time the police called with updates I'd just sink in them feels again. I don't know why but I just had trouble coming to terms with the fact that there are such scumbags out there that could do such a thing, but I finally did and it was a well learned lesson. Not only that, I also felt paranoid and responsible for the whole situation; leaving a purse in a car, pshh, and Mark's destroyed window.

[phone camera warning]

It's funny, because you'd think I would've learned when just a few weeks before I made the mistake of leaving my purse by a bonfire with drunk friends. They then left our site unattended to go skinnydip or something or other and we had our stuff ransacked-- things thrown all over the sand and into the fire; my purse gone (a different one, just to clarify) but all the contents intact. It was a creepy walk from the beach to the pier, but we were determined to look at some barking seals in the middle of the night.

It doesn't matter how much I remind myself of my little mottos, I cannot push myself out of that feeling-sorry-for-yourself funk. All I do is wait it out. Then I see how ridiculous it is to waste time sulking by just waiting for time to pass. It's like telling yourself "don't think about elephants." And then there you are. Can't be just time that heals things, it helps, but ultimately you have to kick your own butt up. That and Mark is the most supportive man I could ask for. Just going to take a sec to thank you because you're just too wonderful you damn sweet tiger you, thank you.

Anyway, I exaggerate. It finally clicked when I realized these were just materials. I just saw this photo on Reddit, titled "life is good" that initiated that click. I have two good legs and a nicely beating heart. Suddenly I was plenty grateful for that. I'm doing well and few physical possessions don't define or change me. I'm going to subtly try to wedge in a new life motto-- always be ready to part with physical possessions. A phone, wallet, car; none of that is life defining and I want to always be okay with or without any of those things as long as I've love and health. [/cheesefest]

Bringing in herbs to every corner of the house. We have a mint invasion all over our backyard. Our tomatoes are growing! I woke up one gloomy morning, weather wise and mentally, and stepped out for fresh air only to find these little guys up and lively. Made my day. The power of gardening; no better therapy.

Besides such a hiccup, summer has been so sweet and mellow. This year so far has been plenty bright and new to me. I haven't been trying to but I've changed a whole lot just this year, specifically with food-- I've learned to respect and know what I eat which has made a tremendous change in how I feel day-to-day. It's crazy amazing what changes your body can experience from just watching what you eat-- imagine that. A big deal for a person like moi who eats entire bags of hot cheetos with lime and Nutella-loaded crepes. Mark's also opened me up to try different foods [because contrary to the previous sentence, I can't handle spicy foods. No joke]. I'm a brat when it comes to eating and I kind of admit it. Slowly but surely I'm making progress. Mostly I'm just proud of myself because I didn't make any resolutions at the beginning of the year nor am I pushing myself to make changes either; it's just coming around naturally and I'm kind of embracing it. I've always said, I'm a creature of habit so... big deal for Terri.

  Our 4th of july burger feast!

Mark had his first 4th of July off in years! He got himself an awesome internship this summer, soups proud of his hard work.
We attempted to watch the fireworks from the roof... but my prissy-butt wasn't having it. I was so scared, I was practically in tears. Seriously, I'm a land mammal. Got no business climbing or swimming in anything [though I do wish I could learn]. I just lack the guts for these things.

Welp. Here comes August and I'm hoping my weird seasonal-clock doesn't kick in. Normally August throws me into a Fall kind of mood and summer is over for me. But it isn't yet! Summer officially ends... sometimes in August, I think. But these cloudy Californian central coast mornings definitely don't help. I'm hoping the weather warms up again before I break out the Autumn inspirations. Plenty of swimming and tanning left to do.

Anyway, life's good.

mí espejo

I could not count on all my toes and fingers how many projects and little craft things I would like to realize that I simply don’t do. I could spend days bookmarking pages, getting cartoony heart eyes over craft blogs and magazines, saving nifty tutorials and making folder after folder of ideas. I have all these scrapbooking and sewing supplies collecting dust. I forbade myself from buying anymore until I use ‘em [ or find some more storage space ;) ] Don’t ask me why, I couldn’t tell you. Having my own blog will hopefully inspire me to craft more; that’s the idea anyway.

Luckily I have me an amazing man that loves to craft too. More like woodworking than scrapbooking, mind you. I mean, our default channel of choice is HGTV. Jackpot. 

He’d like to learn how to sew, but he doesn’t need any more skills, this is mine. I’m so oldfashion I’ll be more than happy to mend a button.

I can’t remember exactly (and am too lazy to go through my magazines); think it was a 2011’s August issue of Martha Stewart Living? This section on decorating with a beachy theme— a four page spread or so. 
Oy. I was sighing in love at every page. Everything was gorgeous, but there was a sand dollar mirror that stole my heart. How-to instructions and all. She even linked (can you say that? can you "link" on print...?) to some east coast shop's website where she got her sand dollars.
My, t’was love at first sight; it was gorgeous! I folded the pages and put the magazine at the top of the stack for months. But alas, never got around to it.

The sand dollars are right off California’s central coast beaches. M’s mom and grandma spent a morning, probably a couple of years ago, a very early morning, collecting them. They knew they had to go so early before others picked ‘em up; which could not be truer because I have never seen a SINGLE sand dollar at our beaches that wasn’t the size of a quarter or broken. And she had a whole bag sitting in the backyard! They were just lying there like an unused little treasure, so I pushed M to wash them. It took us the longest time to get all the sand out. We followed an e-How article on how to clean them properly and left them to bleach in the sun for weeks days. I forgot about them until M’s sweet surprise.

That afternoon we went to every store that might carry mirrors like these, but they were either too small, had frames, square, etc. I love that we settled with this one, it’s the perfect size and shape. I picked up a bag of seashells, fake, for crafting. They were too cute to pass up; I wasn’t even planning on putting them all over, just as an accent if at all. But M made it work.
A glue gun + mirror + shells
I was so thankful she let us have those shells. It was only so easy to picture her with her mother, racing to see who could find more, bonding. She seemed happy we put them to use, too. That and plenty surprised at the finished product; said it looked so valuable and priceless. I was so scared bringing it home! Then I had to hang it up... all by myself.

Now it sits above my makeup desk/area. I don't remember how that spot looked without it. It's beyond perfect. I did my best to secure it, but I'm paranoid one really good earthquake will take it from me!
Excuse the low-quality phone photos, it's all I had on me the night we made it.

I can only imagine looking back at my reflection, our reflection, decades from now. A photo of our reflection on our wedding day. A photo of our firstborn's reflection.
I know, cheesefest.

Some people have rings, boxes, cards, whatever, that they pass down the family. Relics. Heirlooms. I think, I hope, I can have this the same way.

Y’know, if it survives. 

Crafted September 15^th 2012

✽terri

"no doubt in my mind where you belong"

And [now to] introduce someone here. An introduction purposely delayed for reasons... hmm. Yeah. Because tomorrow marks 8 absolutely wonderful months. Well. Following my entry before the last-- which was written before I met him-- I pretty much maintained my view on certainty but on a much more positive note.
I'm with my soulmate. I knew him. I knew he was. Always. Always. And now I'm with him.

There we are in March. We had a date night for just no reason, really.
I was genuinely not expecting to open the door to this most handsome gentleman with flowers and chocolate.

But I was expecting the look on his face upon seeing that dress. ;)

(and about him getting that he looks like Joseph Gordon-Levitt... I honestly don't see it. okay maybe in that last picture a bit but meh
I see Heath Ledger more than JGL. there. said it. just for the record)

 We went to a local restaurant; I had my first 'rare' piece of meat. It was weird, but good.

February: He made us our first bonfire and I watched my first beach sunset. Goodness...

For some reason this picture looks so intimate to me. The glow of the fire and how we aren't kissing-- we're smiling right on each other.

Oddly enough I don't feel too comfortable writing our story. Or my story about his story before our story... And I don't mean the drama surrounding this story.

Him and I alone knowing that story will do for now.

My amazing spring ended on pretty damn amazing note, too.

We tackled a 12 mile hike on the very first day of summer.

[ Didn't edit these at all, obviously. They are in all their imperfect film glory. Didn't even crop the edges after scanning. ;) ]

We soaked our blistery feet in bath salts (I freaked out and slapped ticks all over his car and bathroom upon finding them on me, nbd) and massaged each other's tired-ass legs with some awesome lavender oil. Love lavender. And of course, I must mention, I almost died climbing this bitch back up. I did. I did almost! LOOK AT THAT THING!

I cannot, in any way, words or pictures, do justice to that beach. Felt like we were alone in the world for the while we rested there. It was beyond wonderful. There was only one tiny mishap-- the death of my iPod. It only bummed me out because of the videos I recorded and pictures I took (I geniusly notaword propped it on the strap of the Camelbak there, that black thing on my chest, and let it record as we went along) that were lost. But it gets funny; the iPod (his name was Jake, really) made it home safely. I played Plants vs Zombies while he massaged my feet. Then he washed his backpack and forgot to check one single and very important pocket. Yup. Jake got a wash. Anyway, I refused to let him buy me a new one. Funny and tragic. But you owe me...

July: Strep throat; I risked my perfect health and happily cared for him. 

As amazing as it it to be with your soulmate, it's a little scary (back on that certainty point...), I mean, I'm not perfect. Life's not perfect. Although it feels like it is when I'm with you, it isn't. If for any reason or force on earth we could no longer be with each other... I wouldn't regret a single second spent with you. If for any reason... there wouldn't be an ounce of bitterness in me. I'd be beyond happy that I had you at all. Like I was before.

And really, that's a kind of a big thing to say and realize, right? 'Cause I say that with the most honesty.

You have done the most to my heart I've ever allowed anyone. I still get butterflies sometimes, or I'll get that "high-school-girl" feeling when we're together. Sometimes even when we're lazy in bed ("We own pants?") watching Netflix. I could make this the sappiest blog entry in history, but I'll leave that for a few months later. ;) And M, you know what I told you about writing; my view on it. (i got a question about why i refer to people with their initials on my blog(s), might as well mention that here too. i've clearly been doing that for a while and the reason is to protect their privacy, on the internet or whatever; chances are i'll use full names on private entries) Here it is all laid out.

Happy 8 months my love, mi chulo, mi amor, my soulmate.

I can't get enough of your grilled cheeses, your country signin, and your chinky kisses.

Thank you and I love you. (:

besitos

_________________________________________________________
This post is a copy from one of my last few on livejournal. I didn't post our story on there until I was comfortable with it, and now I feel it belongs here on this blog right from the start. I mean and meant every word. Written October 16th, 2012

✽terri