the recreation center

hon, do you want to swim some laps? asked g.

yeah, sure, but where?

and so begins my story of the recreation center.

just when i want to throw the towel in and curse this city (drama queen, yes), i am pleasantly surprised with little gems. like the chocolate chip cookie at the larder. or our secluded beach spot in malibu. and now, the westwood recreation center.

within walking distance of our studio is a place where people of all ages congregate. where kids play basketball, new mommies attend support groups, racquetball people play racquetball, and where the rest of us swim laps. open from the wee hours of the morning until after dark, the center hosts a commuity of people wanting to belong, to be engaged in activity and fellowship.

it's only been one week of early morning swims, but i have a feeling this place is going to become part of my routine. i love watching the older women practice their water aerobics on one side of the pool, taking their conversation to the locker room showers. i love the morning sun beaming through the window, dancing on the water, as that one man glides through his lane with such graceful fluidity. and the feeling i get from working my entire body - my heart beating, my arms pumping, my legs strengthening - it's enlivening.

although g and i are swimming in our own lanes, at our own pace, i feel like we are connecting - with our spirits, bodies, and community. i still find solace when i run, but during the days between - with g, with those old folks at the center - i am part of something shared. and it feels nice.

all i need

wake up shy of 5:55 am, with all effort to beat the alarm. stumble out of bed, trying not to startle the dog. bathroom lights on, time to brush my teeth and attempt to look decent. tea brewing, toast toasting, almond butter prepared for spreading. shoes on, bag packed, it's time to start the day.

driving two miles to the hospital, i have no idea what the day will look like. who will be my patient(s)? will i have a delivery? what kind of person will i have to become for the next 12 hours - the coach, the mediator, the cheerleader, the comforter, or the leader? am i ready for this? am i ready to adapt to this dynamic environment and give it my all?

i change into my scrubs and greet my co-workers. i give the central monitor a quick glance, trying my very best not to jump to conclusions about how the day is going to unfold. but i can't help it. i can already tell by the amount of fetal strips shown on the monitor that it's going to be that kind of day.

the deep breaths begin. it's time to collect myself, be open to whatever comes my way. i get my patient assignment and dive head first into a day in L&D.

and throughout the day, i'm the chameleon, changing my colors to meet my patients' needs. internally, i'm fighting exhaustion, hunger, and frustration, while externally, i'm exuding an err of confidence, joy, and full-fledged support. in the few moments i get to myself in the bathroom, i look into the mirror to remind myself who i am, to stay centered.

the day finally ends after 12 hours of laboring and delivering, teaching and consoling. i feel depleted. i feel proud. there's this sense of joy and happiness mixed with exhaustion and doubt. did i meet my patients' needs? was i a strong team member? could i have done this or that better?

so i make my way home, my mind being consumed by an ongoing train of thoughts. i shuffle my feet through the door, put my things down, and give g a kiss. and then i realize - after those long hours of physical, mental, and emotional challenge, of self-doubt and self-judgment - that all i need is exactly this....the promise of a home filled with unconditional love.

respect

when i moved in with g, i was a little nervous about space. living in a studio doesn't give either of us many options for retreating. hiding out. doing our "own" thing.

we basically eat where we cook, sleep where we eat, practice yoga where we cook...you get the idea. i thought the transition of me moving into an essentially one-person space would be borderline crazy. but it wasn't. and, surprisingly, it hasn't been.

over the course of this past year living together, we've learned how to negotiate our space. i know where he'll spend the better part of his morning. he knows when i'll be in the bathroom. we basically do a waltz when we are cooking in the kitchen, twirling past one another to put a hot pan down, gaining height on our tippy toes to reach for a wine glass. it's been a process, but it has been a great one at that.

i am in the midst of preparing for an advanced certification exam, and naturally, i need space. quiet space. distraction-free space. back in the day, i would retreat to my room, plant my butt at my desk for some odd-many hours, and study for as long as i wanted. seeing that i don't have that private space anymore, it's back to the negotiating tables.

how early should i begin studying, so as to not wake g up? where will i study so i don't have paper sprawled all over the place? how can i kindly tell g that i can't have a conversation right now because i'm trying to read?

thankfully, g has been an amazing support. he understands my focus and has made tremendous compromises so i can bury myself in the books. and for that, i love him all the more. the guy who respects my space, even when we don't have much of it.

what i saw when i looked up from the books: g practicing yoga with his ear phones on. silence!

the fruit!

i feel overwhelmed. with spring nearly over and summer inching forward, the bounty of glorious fruit is  driving me kinda crazy.

the melons and berries, the stone fruits alone! when i wake up in the morning, i have all of these options. and coming from a creature of breakfast habit, it's a little daunting to decide what to dive into. an internal monologue ensues...

should i have blackberries or peaches in my yogurt? how about both? but look at the cantelope...a refreshing side to my cereal. oh hell, i'm really in the mood for apricots in my granola. but the cherries! what about the cherries?!

and that's just breakfast. you can imagine what the rest of my day is like when i have to consider the other meals. crazy.

don't even get me started on treats. of course, these lovely summer fruits just scream TART! CRUMBLE! ICE CREAM! GALETTE! CURD! how the hell am i supposed to choose? it's all just so good.

please don't confuse this venting session with a summer fruit abomination. no, no, that's not the message. i'm just so smitten by this bounty that i get a little emotional and, at times, confused. but honestly, as long as my stockpile continues to grow, i try my darndest to put the drama aside and just enjoy.

together again

it's funny to think how time just happens. years go by and then we look back and wonder exactly how did those years go by without me knowing? i'm realizing it's actually a beautiful thing. life is being lived and days are being spent creating these individual worlds. i realize it's even more fantastic when life "just happens" and then we stop for a moment, invite old friends over for dinner, and enjoy each other where we are now. three years later (and hopefully the wiser).

last night, g and i had an old college friend, peter, and his wife, emily, over for dinner. the last time i had seen these two was after graduation at their summer wedding. three whole years ago. back then, we were all in different places. peter and emily tying the knot, me finishing nursing school, pre-gino. there was no thought as to when we'd really hang out again because, of course, we were just living the moment in joyful celebration. and as expected, life just happened.

thanks to social media, there was always some knowing of what was going on in their lives, making any inkling to actually visit seem unnecessary. then came the day when i said screw it! here is a great friend and his wife, living nearby, without kids, with an appetite for adventure. so g and i invited them over for a summer evening dinner.

at once, my two worlds merged: my past and my present. it was surreal. here is peter - the guy who played guitar on our patio on ophir, the one who was guaranteed to attend all our parties, the one who collected cereal boxes to hang on his apartment wall - sitting at a table set for four. two college buds, joined by the loves of our lives.

we drank and ate, lit the candles when the sky grew dark, ate some more, and enjoyed reconnecting. yeah three years passed, but those three years bought us here. now. as is.

my heart is gleaming with joy having peter and emily back in my real life, the one shared with g. as peter played the guitar last night after dinner, i felt like everything was so right. we may not have been sitting in our past on ophir, but what joy it was to sit in our present at la casa de erica and g. three years gone by, but that moment lived to the fullest.

inspired

i don't know if it's spring with its blossoms and fruits and what-not, Mother Flow's soon arrival, or hints of my puerto rican daze, but i'm feeling sensitive. emotional. inspired.

i've always been an enthusiast for simple pleasures, but i noticed there was a lapse for a wee bit of time prior to our puerto rico trip. little things got on my nerves, setting the tone for the rest of the day (i.e. traffic, bratty kids, people jay-walking). and of course with such focused attention on things that were out of my control, i forgot to take deep breaths and just be. 

somehow, someway, i feel like i'm back to the real me. the joyful me. all of a sudden, i have a keen fancy for simple, lovely things.

...like mornings spent drinking tea and letter-writing outside.

and long, unhurried walks. (erica one month ago would have said "ain't nobody got time for that" with shreds of cynicism clearly apparent).

lovely things like wearing dresses and long skirts. doing yoga in my underwear.

i can't tell you enough how i am totally digging this song and this album right now. sitting in traffic doesn't seem so bad after all. (yeah, freakin', right. traffic still stinks, but at least i have some great tunes to ease my anxiety).

dinners eaten outside at dusk. or by candlelight. tenderness.

again, i don't know why i feel this internal warmth after a few weeks - or quite possibly, months - of feeling stagnant, anxious, and frustrated. i do know, however, that it feels great to be back.

on being a big, big girl

i'm 26.

most people my age are doing things like getting married, having babies, closing escrow on houses, planning for their "next" baby. it's serious stuff. adult stuff.

now, i don't want to invalidate those life-changing milestones of the greater 26-year-old population, but i must tell you about my recent big girl step: investing in the proper bra.

seeing that i'm not  exactly what you call "voluptuous," i've never felt the need to have a bra fitting. i would just go to the store, choose the smallest size available, buy it, and wear it. no lace, no frill. patterns on a bra never made sense to me, nor did neon colors. my modest bosom had always been content with the nude t-shirt bra.

with such indifference to bras, i never felt it a priority to replace them. i would rather spend money on a great bottle of wine or a week's worth of tasty treats. consequently, my plain bras were forced to succumb to the everyday wear-and-tear. loose, thin, and sometimes stained, they were pretty much useless. still, i never gave a damn. i just repeated to myself, "my boobs are small. treats are good."

but leave it to g to intervene during my lapse in womanhood. noticing my unsupported bosom in a dress, g encouraged me to have a proper bra fitting. according to this apparent bra guru, it didn't seem like i was wearing the correct size. and my bras were just plain old. so he made a plan for me one night: have a fitting, choose the proper bra, and buy it. price, not an option.

after some internal kicking and screaming and a few eye rolls, i put on my big girl pants and did it. i walked into nordstrom, told the specialist i didn't know what the heck i was doing, tried what seems like millions of bras, and found THE ONE! a size completely different than what i had been wearing, nude with a touch of lace on the borders, just enough padding, and comfortable, my bra gave my bosom just what it needed: love and support.

wearing my new bra, i feel like a new woman. an actual woman. sure, it was far more than what i would have paid in the past, but i see it as an investment. my boobs are snug, my clothes fit right, and damn, i just feel pretty.

so to all those twenty-somethings out there doing big things, brace yourselves! erica is on her way!