A quickie little update

Hey lovers!

Sorry to be MIA! An exciting opportunity recently surfaced that while still tentative has taken up a decent chunk of my time. That plus all the promotion and physical work that went into the first ever San Diego Festival of Books (which was SOOOO amazing!!!) had my hands tied when not glued to a keyboard. Also… I’m leaving for almost two months to England and Scotland in about a week and a half, so….. lot’s going on!! 

I’m wrapping up a few projects and will get back to writing my own stuff shortly. Thank to those following on the gram as I post bookish pictures of my reading habits, writing processes and general nerdish tendencies. 

Bookishly yours,

Vanessa

Bad and Bookish

Last Monday wasn’t really Monday. I mean it was Monday but also it wasn‘t Monday because I HAD NO ALARM SET. My eyes opened when they bloody well felt like it, I had a cup of tea in bed as I curled up with a book for an hour and I swear I heard birds outside chirping “Yeeeah, girl. Live your best life.” Later that morning, I fulfilled a dream I didn’t know I even had by becoming one of those women who takes a Pilates class after 8AM on a weekday. I used to yell at these women in my head (and sometimes out loud in the safety of my car), “DON’T YOU PEOPLE HAVE JOBS!?!” I’m sorry, ladies, I get it now.  

I left my corporate property management job behind officially on Friday, June 30th and am finally focusing on writing and applying for grad school. Because I gots bills and need food to survive, I’m also working at two part-time gigs, one an adorable gift and housewares shop and the other a fantastic indie bookstore. Both stores are in South Park, my favorite charming little neighborhood in San Diego, and are around the corner from one another. On any given day, I can be seen skipping down the tree-lined street whistling to myself, entirely too jazzed to be going to work.

I’m off on Mondays and Tuesdays and work one or both jobs the rest of the week. My earliest start when working is 10 AM and some days it’s as late as 2PM; this means that working or not, I have enough time in the morning to get some writing done, enjoy that cup of tea or two and then dance around my room (literally, and full out) as I tidy up and then fit in a workout – usually Pilates or barre because I love supportive torture. I come home to get ready for the rest of my day, listening to an audio book or podcast as I splash on some makeup. I throw a little mousse in my hair for some structure and diffuse it lightly. I haven’t blown out my hair straight in two weeks – it’s wild and wavy and I’m kind of into it.

My first couple of weeks have been a blast. I’ve had the pleasure of opening and closing the bookstore (and pretending it’s my own) while thinking of creative ways to display new releases and crafting bookish puns to write on the sidewalk sign (like “Go On. Treat Yo’ Shelf.” *slaps leg and laughs at own pun*). I’ve learned about the book industry, ordering, taking inventory and gained insights into some great bookish news both locally and in the industry. I’ve sold gorgeous housewares, children’s gifts and stunning pieces of jewelry and more to people with a genuine appreciation for the art and effort that goes into curating products with purpose and displaying them with an eye for design. I’ve also been given free reign over organization projects as well as social media management and creating email blasts. Books, aesthetics, and the space to flex my planning/writing/organizing muscles: I am in my element.

The part I’m enjoying the most is how much I get to talk to people, an activity I think I’d forgotten I enjoy for a minute there. At my last job, I managed a resort-style, 500+ unit apartment community across from a private university, and while we rented to anyone who qualified, we did get a lot of interest from students whose parents could afford that resort-style price tag. Listen. A lot of the people I dealt with were great: college kids, military folks, families, young professionals, etc whom I was genuinely sad to leave behind. But MY GAWD, the handful of folks whose heady combination of money + privilege led them to think they could talk to my team and I like we were lesser human beings… they were the reason I often threw myself face-first on my bed at the end of the day and muttered, “I fucking HATE people.”

Really though, I love people and I remember that now. The cute kids who want to touch everything and squeal in delight when you give them something squishy or bouncy to play with, the husbands and boyfriends in search of a gift for their significant other, the parents who come in looking for books that will empower their kids and foster their love of reading… I love them all. I love when customers shake my hand or even hug me when I help them find the perfect little something, the fact that so many are regulars and remember my name. I love the sense of community, how wholly and incredibly different it feels to work for a small business as opposed to a huge corporation. This is all so new to me. It’s delicious.

I am never, ever bored. If I’m not rearranging or crafting some marketing material, my customers are my live theater. There was a woman who bought an oil-based fragrance from me just last week who raved about the perfection of its scent and emphatically recounted her long search for a fragrance that captured her essence. Somehow we veered off onto a tangent wherein she disclosed that she wears a necklace that’s actually a vibrator around her neck when she goes on dates. “If it doesn’t go well, I’m fine, you know?” she beamed.  “I don’t need him. I’m good! I’m good.” I laughed with her and hoped quietly that she waits until she gets home to explore the many utilities of her choice in jewelry.

Then there was the gorgeous, blonde, tattooed mom who came into the bookstore looking for “Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls” because she doesn’t want her daughter growing up with a Disney damsel-in-distress complex. She told her beautiful toddler that she could play with this cute stuffed fox we carry in the store but warned her to be careful with it since they would not be buying it. I locked eyes with that precious little munchkin and saw a very clear, "Oh yeah? in her expression as she proceeded to chomp down on its snout and rip off the nose. “Oops!” her her batting lashed seemed to say. “Guess we have to buy it now!” That little girl is going places, I tell ya. People are the best.

So. I get to write. I get to talk to people about books and beautifully curated gifts. Feeling useful and (slowly) knowledgeable while feeding the parts of my soul that were being starved in the name of traditional paradigms of “success” gives me a sensation that it’s taken me a minute to properly identify. It’s calm, it’s relief, it’s happiness. I'm bad and bookish, yo. Let's make that a thing. 

I leave you with a few little somethings that I’d like to start including with my blog posts. A little inspo, a little bookishness, a little peek into my current obsessions. Have a beautiful, productive, life-affirming day. Let’s stay in touch, ok?

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Think Me: Take a risk. Let go of some of those I probably can’ts for a few but what if I dids and see what’s on the other side of worry.

Read Me: We Are Never Meeting in Real Life by Samantha Irby. Sweet baby Jesus, this is the most quintessential example of honest, confessional and witty writing I’ve seen in some time. Irby is acerbic with her wit and embraces TMI to the fullest, most OMG-I’m-cringing-but-I-can’t-look-away extent. It’s a collection of essays that takes you through Irby’s challenging childhood through to her struggles to get her shit together as an adult. She holds nothing back and lets you know how much of a mess she is and has been in figuring out how to adult, how to live in her skin as a fat black woman, how to make room in her life for another person and how to deal with complicated loss. The best part undoubtedly is that between about a thousand oh no you didn’ts, you find these poignant emotional revelations that anyone with a less-than-linear love, career and life path will relate to HARD.

Drink Me: Genmaicha Tea. I love green tea and am discovering just how many blends of the stuff are out there. We all know I love me some matcha, but Genmaicha is another solid favorite. It has that traditional green tea flavor with an added layer of toasted rice. It gives the tea a different depth and tastes fantastic both hot and iced. I get mine from The Loose Leaf at my favorite farmers markets in San Diego.

Hear Me: Mi Gente by J. Balvin. That beat tho!!!! I used to deny liking reggaeton as a genre because frankly, some of the stuff makes me want to jam a pen in my eardrum, which is the same way I feel about EDM. There’s a new generation of reggaeton artists and some seasoned veterans doing some pretty amazing stuff right now though, bringing beats that blend the reggaeton sound with salsa, bachatha, cumbia and allll the things that make me want to dance. This jam makes me want to be a young hoodrat in a club shaking it for all it’s worth. So instead, I do it in my room with only my books and Benedict Bookington III to judge me.

My dancing offends Benny's British sensibilities.

Oh you thought I was kidding?

Chones and Champs

Buenos Diaz!

This post was originally drafted (to 85% completion, anyway) back in May. Yep, MAY. You know what I like about May? This.

But I digress.

May was… eventful. It signaled the beginning phase of Bridalpalooza (two of my BFFs are getting married next month, so shower and bachelorette season are upon us) and my father was hospitalized for acute abdominal pain. That pain turned out to be appendicitis which meant an immediate surgery. That surgery uncovered a mass in his colon, which his surgeon had tested because he thought it might be cancer. And then it wasn’t cancer. Sweet baby Jesus. There were a lot of ups and downs there.

One of the other big happenings of that time period was my father’s retirement! After 34 combined years of service to the United States Marine Corps and the United States Postal Service, my daddy is now a free man (one recovering from surgery, but a free man nonetheless). In my next post, I will go into more detail about that whole situation. For now though, here is the post I meant to publish weeks ago right around the time of his surprise retirement party. Have a good one, folks!  

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Happy Thursday, y’all! Je suis currently house-sitting deep in Escondido and keeping tabs on two very energetic springer spaniels while their humans are off soaking in the Barbados sun. I’ve learned that they’re called springer spaniels because those mother f*ckers are springy as sh*t. They ate my sandwich clean off the kitchen island in the ten seconds it took me to pour myself a glass of milk. Hmmpf. How rude.  

I’ve been watching the house and pooches since middle of last week and invited my cousin/BFF Alexis over to help me put together a slideshow for my dad’s surprise retirement party.  We took a small detour on Friday and ended up visiting Orfila Winery down the street. Sure, it was the night before the party, and I had a lot of work to do since I’d accidentally deleted my first attempt at the slideshow, but hey! YOLO! Wine just begs to be tasted.

We each enjoyed a tasting, which at Orfila includes six pours of wines of your choice for only $12! Alexis favored the Sparkling Moscato Bianco which really did taste like bubbly peach perfection. I loved the Viognier, my favorite of the white wines, with its lovely floral bouquet and bright, crisp notes. I also really dug the limited release Petite Syrah- bold and big and delicious! The only bummer here was that the weather was crappy and cold and rainy, otherwise we would have wanted to roam the beautiful property some more and have a seat outside in the adorable courtyard. Orfila regularly features local musicians, like the amazing acoustic guitarists there that night playing everything from Gypsy Kings classics to Uptown Funk. The stupid rain also screwed us out of Food Truck Fridays, a regular occurrence at Orfila that was cancelled on account of the weather. Guess we’ll have to go back!

If the glass fits....

Before we knew it, it was closing time at the winery. We decided to keep the wine flowing back at the house and for Alexis to spend the night instead of driving 40+ minutes back home. She hadn’t brought an overnight bag though, which prompted me to flick her on the forehead since it is an unspoken rule that our visits end in sleepovers. Fortunately, I had 99% of the items she’d need to get clean and pretty in the morning. For that last one percent (you guessed it: panties!), we made our way to a nearby Target.

When we got to Target, we were hit with a moment of divine inspiration: Mother’s Day was just two days away, so this would probably be a good time to finish (read: start) shopping for our mothers’ gifts. We walked over to a department store in the same mall and also decided to call in a take-out order for dinner later.

All was going according to plan until we got in line to pay for our purchases. I glanced at my phone and realized it was 7:51 PM. Skrrrrrrr….. say what!?! We now had only nine minutes to pay for our merchandise, run back to Target, grab a pair of underwear (and more wine, of course) and then jam over to grab our takeout before the restaurant closed at 8:00 PM.

Picture then two Latinas running through a mall with shopping bags in tow bursting into Target like they were giving away money. Alexis booked it to the panty section while I took off in a frantic search for booze. I sprinted and scanned the aisles like I was a contestant on Supermarket Sweep, hearing that Chariots of Fire song in my head’s internal soundtrack. I turned a corner sharply and almost took out a small child, knocking over a few boxes of crackers instead. Alexis decided on a pair then gunned it for the cash register while I ran towards her with a bottle of almond champagne (cuz we classy). There we were huffing and puffing at Register Three, and the cashier was grinning in spite of her best efforts not to do so. Her last customers of the night were two flustered females: out of breath, in a hurry, and buying a single pair of cotton panties and a bottle of champagne.

We were able to get our food in the very nick of time, then went back to the house and enjoyed our delicious meal of chicken adobo and pancit while watching Scandal. We then settled in and cracked open the bottle of champs as I began editing the video for my dad’s party and Alexis studied for her Chemistry midterm. The video became a collaborative effort; I arranged photos and picked transition types and speeds, she helped with song choices and in converting You Tube videos to MP3 audio clips. We picked captions for the slides and broke into booze-fueled fits of laughter as we cruised down memory lane. I’ve included some of those photos for you below. Yeah.

Brother had an opinion from the jump.

Why do my bangs start at the top of my damn head??

Rhythm in a dancer. 

I guess I know where I get my resting b*tch face from... what a photobomb, Abuela! 

Just Dad being Dad. 

Why yes, that is a bucket. 

The champagne had long run out and my contacts were grappling my eye balls when I realized the room was getting brighter. It was the sun, because it was past 5am. I looked over at Alexis and felt very thankful that God gave me a cousin who is also a best friend, one who isn’t just down but chones-and-champs down, because that’s, like, as down as it gets.

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Items of Note:

Orfila Winery

13455 San Pasqual Road, Escondido, CA 92025

760.738.6500

A view of the vineyard from Orfila's website. OMG.

If you ever find yourself in northern inland San Diego, visit Orfila Winery! Just be warned: you’ll probably think I’ve sold you the bill of goods until just moments before approaching the winery when this lush little vineyard just sort of emerges out of nowhere in the middle of the some of the underwhelming hillsides of the San Pasqual Valley. You can also opt to visit their tasting room in the lovely and quaint town of Julian. Get some apple pie while you're there! 

Like I mentioned above, the winery regularly features live music and food on Food Truck Fridays and also on Sundays at their Tunes on the Terrace event. Go here to see the complete calendar of events (including trivia nights and painting parties)– I am personally looking forward to the Grape Stomp on August 29th!

Want to buy their wine? The sparkling moscato and viognier I mentioned above are available for online purchase! Click here to get yours- both are perfect for summer!

Lastly, they do indeed host private tastings, tours, corporate events and of course- weddings! A friend of mine got married here a few years ago - I can see why! 

Almond Champagne from Wilson Creek Winery

35960 Rancho California Road, Temecula, CA 92591

951.699.9463

www.wilsoncreekwinery.com

I love me some champagne; dry, brut, sweet- bring it. If you’re more partial to sweeter champagne or just feel like switching it up with one not as commonly available, try the Almond Champagne from Temecula’s Wilson Creek Winery. I love this for summer as well - the almond infusion gives it that extra something special.

The winery itself is beautiful and their wine selection is impressive. They feature a lot of sparkling wines if that is your jam, as well as a very popular chocolate port.

The almond champagne is available at many local grocery stores, or click here to purchase online.

Carin di Ria – Filipino cuisine

This is the name of the Filipino spot from which we got our take-out. It’s located near Westfield North County off the 15 Freeway at Via Rancho Parkway. We had the chicken adobo, the pancit and the leche flan for dessert. All delicious, and the service was great!

3440 Del Lago Blvd, Escondido, CA 92029

760.781.1340

http://thecarinderiacompany.com

Ready, Set, Write.

Buenos Diaz! Or "noches" really, as I am just getting around to publishing this post close to 9:00 PM. It once again has been months since my last post, but hold your horses before you dismiss me as a flake. I've been working on a few other things, mainly finding myself most proccupied with a hefty dose of self-evaluation. You see, a thought, a crazy idea popped into my head sometime this summer, one that grew and flourished and came to a full bloom in this month of my thirtieth birthday. A lot of introspection went on, folks. Here is how it went.

I'd taken the day off work some months back and was blogging in my backyard on a lovely summer evening. I had a glass (well, a thermos) of wine in hand, earbuds pulsing music in my eardrums and my laptop perched on my lap as I sat on a blanket in the grass. I'd spent most of my day this way, pausing occasionally for sustenance, to read a few chapters of a book and to do some laundry. I was dreading the sunset that was quickly approaching; no matter how beautiful the San Diego sky looked when it was seemingly set on fire, it meant my day of reading and writing was drawing to a close and the alarm to wake me the following morning for my real job was looming threateningly. I sighed as I sipped my Tempranillo and said out loud to the air, the grass, the pesky spider crawling towards my ankle: "If only someone would pay me to read and write all day." And like the cheesy "aha" moment in a predictable feel-good film, I was instantly changed as the next few words tumbled out of my mouth: "I want to be a writer, dammit. I am a writer." My jaw dropped at my self-confession, at the secret I'd apparently been keeping, though not very successfully, from my own self. I'd suddenly spoken these powerful words out loud, and that action was seemingly the catalyst that set a new life path in motion.

Go ahead, call me corny. No one will fault you for it, least of all me. I won't even be mad if you laugh at me when I tell you that I stood up and danced around a tiny bit- I couldn't help it, my playlist was set to random and Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" came into rotation. More importantly though, I'd made a decision then and there that despite not being very deeply thought out made me ultra giddy and elated. I kept the decision to myself for some time to really give it time to sink in, to make sure I wasn't just caught up in the wine-induced haze of a beautiful summer night or reacting to the increasingly stressful environment of my job. Two whole weeks passed before I breathed a word of my idea to a single soul, and that omission made me feel like the possessor of the most delicious and scintillating secret.

When I finally told my cousin Alexis the news that had been burning me up on the inside, I cried. Then I told my friends, then select members of my family, then of course my employer and the entire chain of command therein. Each time I read another person into the plan, I cried anew, and smiled most dorkishly. These have been the happiest tears I've cried in many a year, and it is this very emotional reaction that makes me trust implicitly that I am doing the right thing. Much like Jesse Spano in her caffeine craze, I'm so excited and I just can't hide it: I've decided to leave the job I've worked at for the past nine years to pursue this crazy pipe dream of writing for a living.

The funny thing about this plan is that I don't really have a plan, strictly speaking. I know that I will give my current employer until about February of 2015 before I officially depart, which is the amount of time it till take to find and hire my replacement, sufficiently train him or her and pass off my book of clients. I know I am going to focus on writing and that I will need to find a job to pay the bills whilst I figure out how to make this all happen. I know I want a job that is better aligned with my literary pursuit, to be more immersed in the world I love and in which I want so desperately to live. I know it will be difficult, I know I will have plenty of dues to pay and sacrifices to make- and this idea elates me to my very core.

There are a couple of projects in the works- a book I hope to publish next year as well as a bit of a joint venture with my good friend and world traveller Celina Rodriguez. The latter refers to my involvement in Celina's business; her online store, Gypsy Treasures, features handcrafted global accessories from her many travels. I am assisting her with the promotion of this endeavor, a *very* taxing one indeed that involves shopping, perusing her wares, photography, eating delicious meals and then writing about all of it. I cannot rave enough about the beauty of these handmade products! I myself have purchased a number of her treasures and a day doesn't go by where I'm not stopped by someone to ask me where I got my bag, my wallet, my scarf, etc. If you find yourself in San Diego this weekend, come on down to the Dia De Los Muertos festival in Sherman Heights on Saturday, November 1st where Gypsy Treasures will be a featured vendor. Come shop, observe or just come hang with Celina and I, or as we have dubbed ourselves: La Gypsy y La Bookworm. I'm thinking we need superhero capes, don't you think? I do.

So there it is, friends. It's time to take a risk! I have entered my Nerdy Thirties with a bang and hope you will join me on this journey. I appreciate all the support that has been so generously given already, for the encouragement of friends and family alike to pursue this passion and write my way through it. I'm excited! Here's to doing more of what makes you happy and daring to live the life you want to lead.

Bookishly yours,
Vanessa

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Check out Gyspy Treasures: https://www.facebook.com/GypsyTreasures619

Come visit Gypsy Treasures, La Gitana y La Bookworm at the Dia De Los Muertos Festival!
The 20th Annual Sherman Heights Muertos Festival, celebrating Day of the Dead art, culture and community. Come check out our booth featuring beautiful hand-made ‪Gyspy Treasures and enjoy community altars and food! 

Saturday, November 1st from 10am-6pm
Sherman Heights Community Center 
2258 Island Avenue
San Diego, CA 92102


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The bookish excitement was real even then:

 

 

La Gitana y La Bookworm

 

From Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain, via text from my friend and fellow bookworm Melissa. I am neither an introvert nor can I stop talking, but these words are just beautiful.