Tonight Susan and I enjoyed a thick juicy steak, medium rare. Hold the steak sauce, please! This steak was made to be eaten as is. Add a glass of red wine, and I am in heaven.

Normally I wouldn't be writing about what I ate for dinner, but today is Wednesday. Wednesday is a special day. Our quasi-vegetarian roommate Lauren plays in her volleyball league. It's the one day of the week where we can feel free to devour whatever animal flesh we crave. We're already planning our menu for next week. =P

Today I came home with a headache. I can't tell if it's because of the last student I was with (he was a bit unruly) or because I haven't eaten anything since lunch. It's probably a combination of both. (Note to self: Pack a snack and some Tylenol.)

All in all, it really wasn't a bad day at all. Today I spent the day observing fellow clinicians as they worked with different students. I can already tell that I'm going to be pretty attached to these kids (they're so cute!), but I know a few of them will test my patience too. There is a lot I'm going to need to remember, but I'm sure everything will become almost routine in no time. Let's hope so!

Tuesday was my first day of training for my new job. I think my friends were shocked to see me in a skirt AND pantyhose. Yes, it's a bit strange to go back to donning a more corporate uniform, but I think I'll wear a skirt tomorrow, too. =P

Even more than clothes, this job is going to challenge my sense (or lack thereof) of time. And a challenge it will be! No more leisurely strolls to the office or laid-back lunches. I MUST be ready at 8 a.m. to start the first session with my student. Every hour session must start on the hour. Lunch is from noon to 1 p.m., and at 1 p.m., I MUST be ready to start the first afternoon session with another student. This will take some getting used to.

Oh, well. I guess it's time to replace the battery in my watch...and actually wear it.

Most women have a "pooch". Okay, let me change that, most normal women have a pooch. Those who don't have one are usually completely emaciated or have to work HARD (dang hard) to get rid of it. I mentioned this to a friend of mine the other day, and he didn't want to hear it. He wanted to believe it wasn't so. He wanted to stay in a world where women have naturally flat abs.

Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, men. The truth is, women naturally store fat in their abdomen, therefore, they have a pooch. In fact, I know some women who have a fond affection for their pooch. They name it. They squish it. They sit there and play with it.

Personally, I have never understood that kind of pooch belly affection, and I'm sorry if this kind of information grosses you out. But women in their completely natural state should be happy with whatever nature has given them...whatever their body shape, pooch belly and all.

At some point last week I felt that I was ready to work again. The time off had been wonderful, but I knew I was ready to be a productive member of society again. My job search began in earnest. I polished up my resume and sent off a few copies. And to end my days of unemployment with a bang, I made plans for one last trip, this time to Napa and Sonoma.

In fact, I was pretty excited about my trip to wine country. I had gotten a map of the wineries and circled the places I wanted to go. Hopefully, I would be able to fit the twenty wineries on my list in two short days. I confirmed my plans with a friend from New York and bought my flight ticket.

This past Tuesday, I received a message on my voicemail regarding a position as a Clinician working with children and adults with learning disabilities. "I'll call them back tomorrow," I thought to myself. I was already corresponding with another employee interested in my resume, so I didn't think it was a big deal. When I did call back they asked if I could come in for their screening session the next morning, Thursday. I agreed to do so.

That night I talked to my friend Rej who is a speech pathologist, and she immediately recognized the company and their programs. She was very positive about them and was sure I would enjoy the work. So the next morning, I was pretty excited about interviewing for the position. After taking a few tests, interviewing, and being observed while practicing some of the materials with fellow applicants, it was time to go home. We were told because of their urgent need for more Clinicians, we would possibly be contacted that day and no later than the end of the following day if they were interested in hiring us. Otherwise, we would get a letter in the mail.

Overall, I thought the morning had gone well. I was more nervous than I expected during the interview and hoped that I didn't come across as a blubbering idiot or a fidgety, inarticulate person. Hannah had stopped by that afternoon, and I told her to be ready in case they called her as a reference. At the end of the work day, Susan came home and we got ready to go to the gym. I figured they weren't going to be calling back that day, so I resolved to wait patiently and calmly. Then the phone rang. Susan looked at our Caller ID. "It's Li...something...," not knowing how to pronounce the name, but knowing who it was, she answered the phone and then, as if she didn't already know they were calling for me, told the person to hold on and passed the phone to me with a smile.

I got the job! In fact, the person who interviewed and hired me said that they were highly impressed by me and would be excited to have me on board. (She said a lot more, but being the humble person that I am, I won't boast.) She also told me that she talked with Hannah who had a lot of great things to say. Of all the references on my list, she decided to talk to the one person I had just seen two hours before! I was surprised to hear that they only hired two people, so for a brief moment I felt sorry for the other applicants. She stressed the urgency of needing to start right away and asked if it would be okay for me to start training on Tuesday. I was supposed to fly to Oakland on Wednesday!

*Sigh* So much for ending my days of unemployment with a bang. Instead, my days of employment have almost started with a shove!

Thanks to everyone who was praying for me! I know without a doubt that God's hand was in all of this. This company normally never hires now since it's their "off-season", but for some odd reason, they suddenly needed to hire two more Clinicians within a small window of time. So the timing of everything was perfect! Well, everything except for my trip, but maybe God thinks I already drink plenty of wine as it is. =D

The very first moment of a classical music performance, in my opinion, is the most magical. It's when the musicians are seated. The applause dies down. The room is near silent. The musicians look to one another and poise their instruments for the very first note. And in one instant, the silence is transformed by the sounds of strings and piano. It's pure magic.

Now, what happens after that very first moment really depends on the musicians. What I would hope for during a performance is skilled technique and musicianship. Some performances are a delight. Others are a disaster. But it's musicians of the highest caliber that can maintain that sort of first-note-magic throughout their performance--when every note transforms the room, just like the very first. Even a familiar piece of music can become more alive, as if it is being played the way it was really meant to be and not just the ways it has always been.

The gift of music is wonderful, and the musicians are the ones who unlock the wonders to us. And I will gladly be part of the attentive audience, waiting for the gift to unfold.

Yes, I have a new addition to my blogspot design. It's a small portion of Marc Chagall's Springtime on the Meadow from a 42 piece Daphnis and Chloe Suite. I had to crop it and slightly alter it since I didn't think it was appropriate to have the whole piece displayed on my blogspot. Please don't ask me why.

=P

Okay, it probably wasn't very nice of me, but I just couldn't help it. I admit it...I was snickering. Let's hope the kid didn't catch me. But it's not that I was snickering at him! I was snickering at the whole awful scenario.

Lauren and I had just walked into the local Macy's when we heard the singing. We looked and realized some young boy was singing enthusiastically into the microphone. A small audience had gathered to cheer him on. "Okay, whatever," I thought. We headed towards the back of the store to purchase a wedding present. After making our purchase, Lauren asked if we could look at the dresses near the entrance where the kid was still singing. We were looking through the dresses on the sales racks, when I started snickering out loud. I suddenly realized the kid might be able to see me, so I forced myself to stop.

I couldn't help thinking how awful it was...I'm sure the kid naturally has a great voice, but I couldn't help thinking his singing career was very premature. His singing sounded forced with lots of vibrato not normal for a child. He obviously lacked control and finesse. And I couldn't help but think that his mom had encouraged him, pushing him into the spotlight and getting away with it because he was so...adorable...I guess.

We moved over, away from view. The kid began to sing The Star-Spangled Banner, and oh, God, I wanted to scream, "STOP!" Instead I blurted out a laugh. He had started the song too high for his range, so he had to change keys in the middle of the song. And most of the song wasn't even on key.

After he finished his...uh...performance, he kept asking his mom in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the store, "What are we gonna eat??" I was horrified. He sounded like a spoiled brat.

But, again, I must state...I was not so much disturbed by his singing than the fact that I couldn't help feeling his parents (maybe specifically his mom) had encouraged him...even exploited him and his "talent"...treated him like a star when he was really far from it. Awful, I tell you. Awful.

Give the kid some lessons and a few years to mature. But, please, please don't subject innocent shoppers to immature and shaky vocal performances. It's much too cruel.

These days I am so distracted by trying to picture what my life will look like back East...so much so, I can't get myself to focus on what I need to be doing now. I need to start working again!

Instead of looking for work, my days are spent thinking about things like...

Where will I live? I want to live in Manhattan. Can I afford to live in Manhattan? Is it feasible to live in Manhattan? How about Queens? Brooklyn?! Oh, I should probably live in New Jersey because that's where this church is gonna be. But I wasn't particularly thrilled with New Jersey, even after my last visit. I still think it's the Armpit of America. Sorry! And if I live in New Jersey, I'll need a car. What should I do about that? Do I get a car out here and drive it out there? Do I get one when I'm out there? How am I gonna afford a car? New? Used? Oh, but if I decide to do the whole seminary thing, I'll definitely need a car since it's so far away. Should I go to seminary full-time or part-time? Would I commute to school? It's so far. It's cheaper to live on-campus, but I don't want to live on-campus. I don't want to live in a dorm and eat dorm food. How awful would that be! I would be so sad living in a dorm and eating dorm food. But why am I thinking about this now anyway? I might not even get into the school. I still have to apply! Should I even apply? Is that the right thing to do? Who knows? If I don't get in or don't apply, then I'll have to get a job. What work will I do? Should I get a job in the city? If I work in the city, maybe I should live in the city...

And the cycle continues...

At this rate, I'm not going to be working until December!

Let me share more about my thoughts on next year. This past trip to New York has been very different in a lot of ways, as I have mentioned before. I know without a doubt that my life will be very different a year from now. Normally, I’m not opposed to change, but I guess it’s because California has become home in a lot of ways for me. I will definitely miss it here.

Well, no, I guess I can’t say I’m opposed to this impending change in my life. But although I usually deal with change rather easily, I do know that this change will probably be more difficult.

I’m realizing one of the reasons why California has meant so much to me is that this is where I more fully discovered who I am. California provided the environment for my personality to thrive and flourish. I was free to be me. And by environment, I don’t just mean the laid-back culture of California (although this is huge), but it’s the church I’ve been involved in and the wonderful people that have surrounded me. It’s all made such a huge difference. I believe God knew I needed to be here.

And now it’s time to go back. There is definitely a sense of purpose to my return, and despite the difficulties I expect to face, I am certain that the East is where I need to go. It’s time to give back what I have been given so fully.

So…now it’s time for me to prepare myself…to figure out the details…to pray about what exact steps I should take and when…and to enjoy life in California while I’m still here.

The Cheesecake Factory has been banned from ever being a possible dining experience for me ever again.

On Friday night, we decided to go out and eat. We figured it would be a nice treat, so Laura and John got Amanda (isn't she adorable??) ready for the evening. And we were off.

The first restaurant of choice was packed so we decided to go with Cheesecake Factory next door. The wait would still be up to 45 minutes, but we figured the wait would be long anywhere. We stuck it out and finally sat down to order our meal. My favorite Java Chicken Salad was no longer on the menu, so I decided to try a new entree. The meal itself was enjoyable, and we ate with great relish and satisfaction. Amanda was happy to be out of the house and in a social setting. It ended up being a nice evening.

And then we went to sleep.

In the middle of the night, I awoke and my stomach was in pain. It kept me up the rest of the night. The next morning, Laura informs me that she had a copious...uh...deposit that morning and that John had gone to the bathroom three times during the night. Although I don't think John appreciated having that information shared with me, we all realized something was amiss at the Cheesecake Factory.

During the afternoon, we drove by the restaurant of our misfortune. Laura raised her right fist in the air and cried, "Cheesecake!!!" with disdain. I don't think I fully recovered from that incident for the next two days. And it's a good thing we didn't going fishing! Imagine...we would have been up in the wee hours of the morning and on a boat suffering from digestive ailments. Ugh!

Oh, yeah, fishing...I guess I should update...maybe tomorrow. =P

No alarm had to wake me this morning. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock which read 6:30 a.m. I got up and went to the bathroom and then decided it was too dark to be up and about. After another hour in bed, I realized it was no use. I was wide awake...and hungry!

Right now I'm sipping cappuccino and eating (unfortunately) a Sara Lee onion bagel. My last stop in NY was to be at a bagel shop to purchase a dozen NY bagels, but since United called to see if I could catch an earlier flight (my flight was delayed), I had to race to JFK. So I'm eating a Sara Lee bagel....frozen...purchased from Vons.

At least it's topped with whipped cream cheese and tomato from my own backyard! I really missed my tomatoes. When I came home last night, I saw two tomatoes sitting on our kitchen counter and I squealed with glee. I know, I know. Squealing with glee over tomatoes. I can be really lame sometimes.

Anyway, I'm back!