A while back, I bought a Groupon for a horseback riding and wine tasting package with Wine Country Trails by Horseback at Wilson Creek Winery. Now that Brandon is learning to enjoy wine, we thought we’d make a weekend in Temecula out of it. Besides, with my current employment situation, we can’t quite get ourselves to Hawaii like we wanted to do originally.

We spent one night out there at the Temecula Creek Inn, getting in on their date night package. The dinner at Temet Grill was superb. The room was nice and roomy, and had the most comfy bed which was incredible after a day of wine tasting and an hour of horseback riding.

The next morning we went into Old Town Temecula for breakfast at the Swing Inn at the recommendation of the cashier at Wilson Creek. Then we hit just one more winery, Masia de Yabar, which came highly recommended by Annette, and headed home.

We didn’t need much to be perfectly happy with this weekend getaway. Actually, we never really need much of anything.  The weekend was perfect.

Now, back to the horses.

While Brandon has ridden horses growing up, this was my first time actually riding a horse.  I had no idea what I was doing whatsoever, but I did look the part with a real cowboy hat on my head. (Thanks to Brandon’s dad for that lovely gift the second time I went out to New Mexico.)  They paired me with this lovely painted horse named Carter who was a total sweetheart.  He just wanted to be close to any horse that would let him.  He was perfect for me because he just followed anyone near by so I didn’t really have to give him much encouragement to move forward.

Our group trotted through the vineyards. The grapes are all dormant at this time of year, but it’s still a sight to see. Hills and hills of the dried vines contrasting with the lush green orange and lemon groves in the background.  We rode through the groves too and it took all my strength not to grab any of the hanging fruits.

Somewhere in the middle of the grove, for a moment, I let myself believe that this could be my life.

Me, riding a horse through an orange grove, heading back to the country house with a large front porch.

I was just telling Brandon as we drove down the I-15 earlier that I could imagine myself being a country girl. To some of you, being in suburbia now is pretty much “country”.  And I’m sure you’re thinking that this former little princess couldn’t fare a year out on a farm. And you’d be right.  I don’t think I’d even last a weekend on a working dude ranch!

But I do believe I can totally live away from a city and be perfectly happy about it.

The point is that while some people want a big house, fancy car, and a glamorous life; all I ever want is a quiet country cottage…with high speed internet, a dining room that will fit 8 people, a kitchen with an island, a couple of cats running around, and a vegetable patch out back. Maybe with a lemon tree. Maybe even with a dog.

Brandon also wants that simple life.

Some of my newer friends have this quizzical look on their faces when I show up to an outing by myself, or that my choice in movie, television, and music is pretty much opposite of Brandon’s.  They wondered how on earth these two seemingly opposite people managed to stay married for 10 years.

Well, that was it. At the very core, we both want the quiet, simple life.  That was the foundation upon which we built our relationship.

I didn’t get to test drive the vision of us riding side by side through “our” orchard since Brandon’s horse wasn’t letting mine anywhere near him, let alone tell him of my daydream of the Prairie OakMonster. It was the first thing I shared with thime when we got back to the winery.

Brandon hugged me.

“We can certainly have that,” he said.  He kissed the top of my head.

“But at this rate, one of us will have to win the lottery to get there.”

The man’s also funny. That’s another reason why I love my husband so much.

Cheers to us! (Thanks David for the pic from last year’s Renaissance Faire!)

This year, I am determined to go as the TARDIS incarnated as a cute blue dress [ETA] a blue velvet corset and a tutu with a hat that glows.  Here are my digital “drafts”, a quick and crude Photoshop image of what my outfit could/would look like.

Final draft. In the works!

Original idea.

But out from that came the idea to do a group costume with our friends James and Aurora, and her sister Lee.

I mean, we’ve done a group costume before years ago as the Firefly gang. (That’s Lee as Kaylee.) Nobody knew who we were. And we had no party to go to. But we did it anyway because, well, it’s Halloween!

As for this year, James has dibs on being an Ood.  We’re considering having me making a t-shirt for James’ 1-year-old daughter that says “My name is Melody Pond”. Either Aurora or Lee will be Madame Kovarian. And we’re hoping we can put their 3-year-old son into a little suit and bow tie. If not, we can always make him a little Cyberman.

As for Brandon, after much deliberation and cost analysis, he was talked into be Rory’s fellow Centurion. (He can’t be Rory because that means shaving!)

Upon researching, I found that the cost for Brandon’s outfit will come up to be quite a lot.  While mine will probably be too, but I’d wear that again for other random occasions.  So I asked if he’d ever wear his Centurion outfit again after Halloween.

B: It’s not like I can wear this again any other time. I mean, it’s not the right time period to wear to Renaissance Faire either.

O: You’re right. [...light bulb moment!...] But wait. You CAN be the Centurion at Ren Faire!

B: How?

O: Dude. I’m the fucking TARDIS! You got to the Renaissance because you’re with ME!!!!

B: Oh god. We’re going to one of THOSE people.

You know, folks showing up at Ren Faire in other sci-fi cosplays…because they’re time traveling. While we get a laugh out of that, the whole genre mashing does ticks off some serious Ren Faire folks something fierce.

Did we mention that last year, there was a girl who dressed up as the 4th Doctor?

Brandon pointed her out as she jogged past.  Of course, being the Doctor, she’d be running…

I called out after her, “But Doctor! I thought you regenerated…like 3-4 times now!?”

She turned around, laughing, and gave me some Jelly Babies. It was quite awesome.

Anyhoo. If we were to go through with the TARDIS at the Faire experience, it would only be more worthwhile if our friend BGF Central would follow us around, throwing her combat bible at us.

Ooooh. Funnage!

What are you guys thinking about for Halloween this year? Have you even thought about it yet? ;-D

Last year, I participated in the Wise Guys Events first-ever iPodyssey, an Mp3 flash mob event.  An offshoot of New York City’s famous Improv Everywhere‘s MP3 experiment.

I’m going to do it again this year!

Many of the folks I know from Thrill the World and GuerilLA Improv were there too.  Well, some of us from GLA were already at the rehearsal for the flash mob musical so we just headed down the freeway from there.

It was so much fun!  Running around with all these strangers, following only the voices in your ears.  Other people were looking on like WTF is going on.  It was all kinds of awesome.

Sure, our little group is nothing massive like New York. But hey, LA is representin’, yo!

Oh, and look who’s totally “cheating” at 0:52?

Last year’s musical rehearsal and my running amok with the Wise Guys were some of the awesome things I decided to participate in without a wing man/woman.

Brandon isn’t the type to flash mob and I couldn’t find any other friends to go along.  Usually, I would just blow it off and stay at home, but that all changed in 2008 when I went out to learn Thriller on the beach.

Brandon was in Washington D.C. that weekend for work.  I found out about Thrill the World’s first practice, but I couldn’t find anyone else to go with me. Instead of letting the opportunity go by like I usually do, I decided to just head on out.

For the longest time, I was missing out on things because I didn’t want to go by myself.  And then, that day, I got up and drove to Manhattan Beach to learn to dance Thriller on the sand with complete strangers all by myself.

Duh! I know!

Having grown up alone per se, with my brothers having left home for schools in the UK and US when I was young, I was used to being by myself at home. My mom never let me go out anywhere unaccompanied. Never go alone to anything. It was either with friends, with mom, or our maid would go with me.  So, I got used to the company.  Once I came to the U.S., I didn’t have many friends.  So, if there was no one to go with me to do things, I’d be perfectly happy staying at home.  It was the same thing in high school and college, and even in marriage too.

A total nerd, I tell you.

The one fateful trip in 2008 led me to do the first Thrill the World in LA and then to help lead the following year. And the musical. And the iPodyssey. And many other fun things.

I’ve been missing out on living because I was afraid of going in alone.

No more.

iPodyssey 2011, here I come!

[ETA: August 13: Sadly, I actually didn't make it out to Century City after all. My last weekend of freedom before returning to the workforce, albeit temporary contract, needed to be quiet and low-key.]

What was the most spontaneous thing you’ve done–solo or otherwise?

I’m not quite as geeky as this chick in the video here, mind you. I have girl friends who are a lot geekier than me.  And there are plenty more ladies out there who will out geek me in many subjects.  But all in all, I’m nerdier than average. So I guess I’m qualified to make the following statement.

I mean, helloooooo. Geek girls have ALWAYS been here.

THIS. WHOLE. TIME.

Now that the media is making being geek girl tres chic, the inevitable aftermath is coming.

That’s right, a pack of non-geek girls trying to earn some geek creds to impress boys by throwing out some adorable little nerd baits.

We all have heard them before.

“Oh, I so totally love Star Wars.”

But most of the time, they can’t tell a Wookiee from an Ewok, or if Han shot first. (HAN FUCKING SHOT FIRST!!!!! There is no other way, foo!)  However, I must confess that I can tell you nothing about Episode 1-3 because they suck so bad I block it from my memory.

“The Star Trek movie was so cool.”

Of course, they are referring to the newest Star Trek movie. I agree there. But yell out “Khhhhhaaaaan!” and they’d look at you funny.  They also probably can’t tell a Tribble from an Ewok. Or Sisko from Janeway, for that matter.

“I like to play video games.”

Some dance games on the Wii, or some kind of Rock Band, I’m sure.  They’ll never know the beauty in the creepiness of Bioshock, the unpredictability of Rift, or the realism of Grand Turismo.  I have to admit, I don’t play much games either. I get motion-sick playing first-person control and confused with all the trigger buttons.  Pretty much this leaves me with a barrage of Lego games and Castle Crashers.  But I do keep up with the trends so I can converse with my gamer husband and be a good game spectator. I watch Brandon and his friends play all the time.

Yeah…I like to watch. Hee.

Well, you know, and the list of nerd baits goes on.

To each, her own. I respect that.  Go ahead, play your faux geek card.

But know that my fellow geek girls and I reserve the right to poke holes in your pretension, like a T-Rex testing for the weakness in the electrified fence, until you are exposed as who you really are: a regular girl.

And there is no shame in being a regular girl.  Like the guy in the video said, at least there are some common grounds in pop culture reference.

To thyself be true, yo.

But if the geek world calls to you and you’d like to explore your geek girl side, come on in!  Our universe is vast. And awesome.

Genre mash-up Zombie Slave Leia with Dad Vader.

The basic 24-hour course was being offered in our building about a month from then.  Since I was one of the only two people in the office with emergency supplies under our desks other than the office manager, I thought I might as well get an official training and be useful in an emergency situation.  The office didn’t think it was a part of my job to respond to emergency on our floor.  Since I was going to have to take days off to go take the classes, I thought I’d try to find them closer to home instead of in Downtown LA.  I did found some in San Pedro, but then I kept forgetting to follow up.  After that, by the time I remembered to look it up, I’ve missed the training dates.

And of course, now that I’m unemployed exploring my future career options…ahem…I found a class through West Orange County CERT right here at the Los Alamitos Joint Forces Base.  The 24 hours of class split into two Friday evenings and two full Saturdays.  Perfect.

What an experience, I tell you.

First of all, there were firemen. As the joke went, they were the best part of our CERT training. Not arguing here!

All kidding aside, I was pretty stoked to get to use the fire extinguisher for the first time in my life!  We even got to check out what all go into all those cabinets and drawers on a fire engine. (Jaws of Life! Cribbing blocks! Lots of water!) When the fireman asked if we had any questions, I was *this* close to ask if I could climb into the engine and turn on the siren.

One day, little OakMonster.  One day.

Firefighting lesson at CERT training

We also covered search and rescue techniques, how to move injured people effectively, and how to apply first aids to different types of wounds.  Dishearteningly, in a real disaster, our role could include medical triage.  The rule is simple: if you’re not breathing, off you go to the morgue.  “The greatest good for the greatest number” is the key here.  We can save 3 more people or we can try to save one near-dead person.  Remember, it’s not like we are trained medical professionals running around either.

Another lesson learned is, although we are here to help others, we have to look out for number one first.  It sounds counter intuitive and a bit selfish, but if I’m hurt or injured myself, I can’t get help anyone else and I’ve also just made myself a burden.  Oxygen mask goes on you before helping other people–exact same mentality here.

Tough decision making lies ahead for CERT volunteers.  We were told many times in times of real emergency, we may have to make some tough choices.  A crying child v.s. a collapsing building full of people, sort of moment.  Disaster psychology did touch on that a bit.  That lecture sounded heavy but it was more practical than I expected.  The Doc who came to talk to us actually was a cop who had lost his partner before, so he spoke from experiences from both sides of the couch.  He emphasized again that we need to be okay in order to take care of others.  So prepare our mind for what’s to come. Run the drill through your head. Prepare yourself for the horror we may encounter.  We can never be fully prepared, but at least we’ve thought about it and know what to do.

Terrorism preparedness lecture came right after disaster psych.  that.  While the key lesson for us citizens was to be vigilante and keeping our eyes out for something suspicious, we learned a lot more about the different kinds of groups and tactics used.  Two heavy hitters in the span of 3 hours, do you even have to ask if I need a drink and a hug afterward?  I actually watched Tangled that night too, just to cheer me up.

The class “finals” was the full on drill on our last Saturday.  I wish I could tell you that I carried an injured child out of the burning building.  But nope.  I volunteered to join the Planning (and Finance) group, intending to be the public information officer, but I was never assigned that task.  Our planning team never really did plan anything because we weren’t clear as exactly what planning entails–other than that they need people who can bean count, work on computers, and deal with administrative stuff–none of which we were really going to do at the drill. At the debriefing, we were told that in real life emergency, only experienced CERT volunteers should be doing the Planning and Finance, not us newbies.  Oh well, we tried.

All things considered, I felt very good about how I can handle the whole situation.  I made the best use of the situation and found myself doing something useful even if it’s not related to Planning & Finance.

Who knew that years of event coordinating would come in handy!  It’s like the day-of-event chaos, really, but with actual lives on the line.  (I was going to say “like the day-of-event chaos but with more blood”, but I did work with a horde of 3,000 zombies at Thrill the World 2009. LOL.)

Considering how well I did that day and how much I enjoyed the class, this past Tuesday, I went to the actual West Orange County CERT volunteer meeting.  They’ve invited newbies from the latest training in to see what the REAL volunteers do.   These are the folks with the green uniform polo who actually works side by side with first responders in real emergency.  I will need to take a few more classes and tests before I can actually move up the rank, and have to be present at more of events and drills and what not.

Believe it or not, becoming a CERT volunteer holds a real appeal to me.

First of all, one thing I’m better than some of my peers is handling the sight of blood and injuries.  Having had a blood geyser for a nose for most of my young life got me ready for everyone else’s bleeder.  Secondly, I work well with people and I’m a natural cheerleader.  And finally, I don’t have a problem stepping up to the plate and taking the rein.  Brandon and my teammate David called it being a natural leader.  I don’t know about that. It’s more because I have no concept of shame so I was never reluctant to pipe up.  Plus I’m too impatient to pussyfoot around and wait for someone to “sacrifice” him/herself to lead.  Let me just do that and call it a day, okay?

And of course, like how we were just talking about something to believe in, I believe in helping people.  Volunteering with CERT fits.

Now I just have to suck it up and take those training classes online so I can be invited back to the meetings.  Conveniently, I have nothing else to do at the moment.

And then it hits me.

Volunteering to save lives and serve my community is a far cry from teaching people to dance Thriller and joining a flash mob musical.

Holy crap.

I’m such an adult right now.

When I talk about belief, why do you always assume I’m talking about God?

- Shepherd Book, Serenity.

That there was a quote that launched a thousand thoughts over this Memorial Day weekend.

It started on Thursday night when I watched Serenity with some friends.  As a Browncoat—fan of Joss Whedon’s Firefly series and the subsequent movie–I’ve watched this movie several times.

At the core of it was about faith, not in a religious way, but a belief in something so strong that one is willing to live by it and die for it.

A kind of faith I’ve always witnessed in my friend Nora’s quiet grace.

We were up in her family’s cabin this weekend in Big Bear.  We planned to head down the mountains and into the spa on Sunday evening.  Not one to miss church, Nora asked if we could drop her off at church for Saturday mass for an hour or so, knowing that I’m Buddhist and Brandon would burst into flames upon crossing the threshold.

I asked if I can accompany her and said yes, just as she’s always done.

You would ask why a Buddhist girl–given, I was educated in Catholic schools my whole life–would want to go to church where she has no business of going.  Well, for one, I’m in support of my friend.  And more importantly, you could say that the Spirit does move me.  But only when I’m in church with Nora and her family.

Nora and her family really do go by the word of their God.  Their door flung open to this cynical sort-of Buddhist at Christmas time. Their arms embrace me in their house of worship despite being of a different creed.  Whatever I may be, I’m God’s creature too.  And Nora, my best friend, accepts my mad, hedonistic way and puts up with—and forgives– our occasion jabs at Christianity as a whole.  Bless her heart.

As I quietly watched Nora went through the motions in mass, I marvel at the strength of her faith.  It is a part of her.  It is who she is.

That makes me wonder about my own faith.  What do I believe in, if I believe in anything at all?

For damn sure, organized religion isn’t for me.

I could call myself a lapsed Theravada Buddhist. But could one be considered a religious person if she actually disagrees and/or questions parts of the doctrine?

I was raised to be a Buddhist in a country that Buddhism is a national religion.  My grandmother was definitely more religious than anyone I know.  My mom was more religious than any of us in the family as my dad is more of a scientist.  Some of her friends are even more so.  I can’t really blame my disinterest on my generation either as some of my friends are even more religious than me. My “cousins” go to temple almost weekly with their parents while I could barely force myself into one once a year for the anniversary of my mom’s death.

I believe in Buddha’s teachings and believe that karma is real, so I’m very Buddhist in that regards.  I’m a Buddhist because I believe in doing no harm unto others. I believe that what goes around comes around.  I believe in the consequences of my action.  I believe in moderation, taking the “Middle Path”. (Hey, I said believe in it…doesn’t mean I practice all the time!)  I believe in generosity.  I believe in finding happiness within myself.

What I don’t believe in is the structure of the religion itself.

Even when I was young, I always wonder why women couldn’t become monks.  Why did we have to do so well in this life so we could be reborn as a guy so we could be a monk to have a better shot at nirvana?  Why can’t I just do really good now and get to nirvana? Nobody can answer that for me.  It’s just the way it is.

I found some research that said that women actually weren’t banned from the practices and were actually female monks back in the early days of Buddhism.  Somehow through time, we were written out of the book, quite literally.

Gee, poorly transcribed and/or translated holy text handed down from generations?  Why does that sound familiar?

My last straw in all of this was the sermon that was given when I went to the temple for my mom’s anniversary a few years back.

The monk was talking about how monks are our gateway to nirvana—how supporting the monks and the temple nets you more karma points than doing anything else on your own.

Are you kidding me?

Did he pretty much just say, “Yeah, you can feed the hungry on your own and it’s like putting pennies in the piggy bank. But if you feed the monks or donate money to the temple, it’s like getting your karma matched by corporate and you’ll get to your goal sooner”?

I’m sorry, Mommy, that you will not get the crap ton of good karma by way of me donating to these monks.

And since when has making karma become some kind of sports or something you expect to do?  Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of doing good if you’re doing it for the reward of good karma?

That was the moment I lost my faith in organized Buddhism.  And that’s why, it’s probably more appropriate to call me a Theravada Buddhism-based spiritualist.

So after all of this, what do I believe in enough to die for?  What do I have faith in?

I have faith in being of service.  Making someone’s day a little better, that I have faith in.

My Mater Dei’s friends and teachers are going to die of shock.  LOL.  My Catholic school also drilled into us the importance of service, not only to God but to the community.  After all, our motto is “Serviam”—“I will serve”.  Sure, in the most religious of context, it meant “I will serve God”.  But you do that by serving God’s children.

But hey, kindness and compassion is also in Buddha’s teaching.  That’s where it all started, I am sure.  But the bottom line is the same.

It’s not just about volunteering or raising fund for the poor, to me, everything I do to help someone counts.  Holding open a door or spotting someone his/her lunch.  Pitch in a buck when someone is a little short.  Even doling out random compliments to strangers, that ought to make his/her day.

Brandon is also a generous man.  More than once he’s offered to help strangers jump-start their cars.  When no one would stop to assist a bicyclist who crashed on the sidewalk, he did.  And that’s why I love him.

Whatever we can do that ends in putting a smile on someone’s face, that’s what I believe in.

The Cult of the Smiley Faces?  I think it has a nice ring to it.

What do you believe in?

Also a quote of Shepherd Book's | Flickr @ Of the Fountain

So far over 1,000 photos have been taken. I have yet to calculate how many kilometers/miles and hours Brandon had driven in the 5 days we spent in South Island…on the opposite side of the road from the U.S., no less.

We had killed absolutely no possums (different than what we have in North America) and rabbits where are both non-native pests here in New Zealand, destroying forests and bird population. However, the Garmin GPS with Kiwi accent tried to kill us by running our car into the river. We guessed she was pissed after all of her “recalculating…make U Turn”s we ignored all day. And we have a video to prove it.

We had at least 6 great meals, 4 of which were a repeat of 2 restaurants, and one incredibily horrible one. We ate a lot but we also walked a lot in Auckland so I think that was what keeping my pants loose.

Yup. More coming soon!

I’m hoping the image will inspire me to feel super and, better yet, *BE* super.

May be I’m compensating for not remembering people’s names by naming inanimate objects in my possession instead.

I’m not particularly good at naming things but I go for it anyway.  My mom’s BFF Aunty Sida is brilliant with names.  For example, she named her vacation house in the mountains of Khao Yai in Thailand “Chuen Chom Poo,” which means “joyously gazing at the mountains.” But when you hear the name pronounced, it could also mean “joyous pink,” Aunty Sida’s favorite color.  Her dogs are named Gaeng Som and Tomm Sapp, both are names for spicy soups.  Even her daughters dogs’ names were in a matching pair, Kati and Kala, coconut milk for the yellow lab and coconut shell for the chocolate lab, and coconut theme because they live on Koh Samui!

I don’t have such talent, I must say.  My candy apple red Kitchenaid mixer is Betsy. *shrug*

Yes, I named my mixer.  Although I wasn’t quite attached enough to the food processor or any other gadget to name them.

Anyway. Let’s back up a little bit.

I think I start to really name things after I named my first car, a forest green sporty Acura Integra.  I named it Tequila because it was just the name I could think of at the time.  And it didn’t really fit the car.  That was when I learned that the object I’m trying to name will reveal itself the name it wants to be called.

The next car, my royal blue clunker of a Toyota Corolla, came along after Tequila was stolen and I was dumped by my boyfriend.  I wanted a heroic name for this knight in blue armor, and then I thought, hmm”¦that color reminded me of this:

I got in the car and started calling it Merlin.  It felt natural.  And there he was.

And of course, the Hyundai Sonata Robin Hood has his own story.

But yes, I now name many things.  Even things that didn’t need names.

My work computer was/is the most powerful in the office, naturally I named it Sully like the most bad ass monsters of Monsters Inc.  This netbook I’m typing on is Momo after the flying lemur in Avatar: The Last Bender, because it’s small and it goes everywhere with you.

My guitar is Dusty…obvious reason. My piano is a Kimball but I don’t want to call her Kimmy so she’s Ginger for her reddish tone.

Brandon also picks up my naming hobby.  His Hyundai Santa Fe is Puma–apparently for the sound it makes.  (I originally named his car Buster because Brandon kept hitting his elbows/knees/hands etc. on the car.  But he didn’t like that name. Oh well.)  Our server is Moya for the ship in Farscape, and our home server is Beast, again, obvious reason.  He also named my USC garden gnome Theodor…”because that’s a gnome-ish name.”

There was a spider who started making his web right above our door and he was there for a few days.  We decided to name him Fred.  So now ALL spiders are referred to as “Fred”.

I even named a piglet in my dream.  And he’s not even real!

One thing we haven’t been able to name, though, is our air rifle.  Brandon wants to call her Vera, like Jayne’s gun in Firefly.  It doesn’t fit.  I keep holding her and try to feel for a name when we take her out shooting, but she remains an enigma.

Cupcake: The Lobster Pot / Rock: The Poster List

I have a copy printed out with a smiley face wearing the crown, and posted in my office to look at.  Because, just like everyone else, some days you need a little bit of a mantra to get you through.  (And yeah, the view does help a little bit.)

Outside of the office in the tower, things do get crazy, people do get mean, and life does go off the rails.  Sometimes the combination of all of that just make you want to throw yourself out that very window I look out on.  But as long as you are keeping calm and carrying on, you’re moving forward.  Keep the forward momentum going, working with what you’ve got, and don’t look back.

However, I have learned my lesson in carrying on mindlessly. Exactly what I did when I went off the reservation a few years ago when my mom died.

I pushed through the pain of losing my mother, put on a front of strength, and bulldozed my way through it all.  Meanwhile I left Brandon behind in my wake, hurt, and all I did was looking over my shoulder and told him to suck it up and keep pace.

It wasn’t a good place to be.  That version of keeping calm and carrying on was absolutely selfish and hurtful.

You live. You learn.  And you do better next time.

Now that I’m back in the “Shield Up, Warp Speed” mode once again for a reason I can only reveal to you in person, I want to be mindful where I step.

I want to make sure my march forward in life doesn’t cause any trouble for anyone this time around.  And instead of clamming up and carrying on by myself like I did in the past, I have reached out for help and guidance.

And so far, I have been very fortunate to have great friends and wonderful mentors.  My friends came through like Gandalf at first light outside of Helm’s Deep.  Full of light and hope…and air of victory.

Image from McKellen.com - Let's go kick some ass!

And then Brandon held me and told me everything is going to be alright.

Keep calm and carry on.

It’s better to do that with friends helping you out.