Lift And Laugh

As the official fall equinox approaches it seems to be ushering in some unexpected twists and hopeful beginnings. One new development involves getting a new job.

Now, before I talk can talk about it in too much detail, I must first receive the results of my tests. In order to work for this company I have to prove that I don't have TB and I have to complete a physical.

Both things sound sort of terrible to me. I've always had a hard time with shots; the nurses often have a hard time getting the goods out and my skin usually feels pretty angry about the whole situation and bruises more than anyone expects. Luckily, this experience wasn't the end of the world. I had a sweet talkative nurse and she treated me well. She had a pretty thick accent and went on to discuss that she thought I would do well on the next test because I seemed like "a smart girl".

I then asked, "what next test? Do I need to take a written test too?" And she replied, "No. The physical!"

I reported downstairs and waited for a confused fifteen minutes holding gauze on my slightly bloody arm. Finally, a smiley older man eagerly introduced himself and brought me into a physical therapy room and taught me how to squat and pick up heavy things. It was sort of cute. He was just so excited to help me pick up so many heavy things! My test consisted of me completing some physical activities like a series of sit ups, stretches, and lifts. It wasn't at all the physical exam I had imagined. Luckily though, I had just come from the gym so I passed. Phew. I got an earnest handshake from my tester and a smile full of well wishes.

I'll find out the results of my TB test tomorrow... and if all goes according to plan I'll start my new job on Monday, afternoon teaching begins again on Wednesday, and Tony N Tina's is mere weeks away from reopening. Here we go, fall!

Never A Bored Gamer

Once upon a time there was a starving artist. In an attempt to make ends meet until her fall jobs began she decided to take a trip though the magical kingdom of the craigslist gig's section. There she found her destiny in a post entitled "Game Night Hosts".

Yes, that gal is me. And after tonight's festivities I can now claim myself as a professional Game Night Host after living many years as an unpaid intern. I applied for this gig because Magic Theatre was closed for the evening and I'm still a few days away from my permanent positions and the financial promises that come with them. Apparently my eagerness for games conveyed over a quick phone interview was enough to land me the job.

Oh, and what a job it was. A corporate event for Zynga which was themed as an 80's board game happy hour party. Endless pizza, beer, 80's tunes, and games for gamers. Heaven, right? My job was to set up the games and the old school Nintendo systems. Amusingly enough, I had no problem with the old equipment but struggled greatly trying to set up the new Wii systems. Ah, technology. I then got to act as an information booth to any incoming questions the participants had concerning their board game choices. (Oh, and there were so many choices! Beyond Apples to Apples and Taboo and Loaded Questions and Scattergories and Catch Phrase and... okay, I'll stop. But just know there were eight thirty pound boxes containing their options.)

The experience was also a very amusing social window that I snuck a peak into. After working so many jobs in the non profit world it was fascinating to see how creatures on other professional planets live and how they're influenced by their environment. The crowd was dominantly males fresh out of college who were all in love. In love with video games!

Now, I know how guys feel about video games. I have a brother who bought and traded in more systems than I knew existed. But it wasn't until tonight that I could truly watch their effect over a large population. On came the old school Nintendo and it was as if a magnet turned on. Suddenly all eyes glazed over and became fixed upon the television. The music was mind numbing and the dated graphics were jarring but that dominating screen became the sole object of desire.

And there was no competition. No lady or meat product or a meat product designed to look like a lady could interrupt their endless love. And is that Nintendo going to cuddle them like a lady and/or a meat product lady would? Maybe. But maybe not.


So since no one needed me to do anything but stand and stare I began to wonder how I could make myself more like a video game. How to: create a look and sound that's hypnotic, be challenging and interesting enough to withstand the test of time, and yet still be rewarding of fine game achievement. But through trying to humanize the characteristics of a video game I just creeped myself out. Now, I'm not totally giving up on this "become a video game" idea yet. But it may just have to wait another day. Perhaps games are meant to be played and not embodied. And isn't the best part of the gaming experience to play together anyway?

As usual, I'm left with only more questions. But thankfully, I also left with a check that'll provide some nutrition for this starving artist and an amusing evening of host experience.

This fairy tale is far from over.

Red Robin Gets The Herp

This afternoon, my sister, Katelyn (there's your shout out, you creep) basked in a thoroughly enjoyable Italian influenced late afternoon. Full of North Beach's finest treasures: thin crusted margherita pizza, chocolate hazelnut and cinnamon swirled gelato, and artfully constructed warm cappuccinos. After filling up on treats, we took to the streets. Hoping to at least walk off some of our food coma.



And then from across the crosswalk I heard a young voice thunder out.


"Hey Red Robin! ... Oh! You gots herpes on your lip!"

Yes. It appears to be that time of year again. Usually the discussion begins in a theatre class with my younger students but this fall it started thanks to an outspoken teenager. Who may or may not have been admiring my red coat only to become distracted by mouth. The distraction being: "that thing on my lip".


No, it's not a herpes outbreak or a zit. It's just a birthmark. So in case you've been secretly wondering too... there you go. I hope.

Once my full stomach and questionable mouth had dropped I turned to Katelyn in surprise. Without missing a step, she suggested that we take a cable car back home and leave the thoughts of teenagers in North Beach. So we hopped aboard with a crowd of tourists. Birthmark and all. Besides, red robins are known for their continuous cheerful carols; the bird that sings first as dawn arrives and last as evening settles. Hurt feelings aside, the song must go on so sing I shall.

Happy 9.02.10, Friends!

The second of September has never been so angsty! But as my parents didn't let me watch 90210 when it first aired on TV my only real regret is that we don't have a day to properly honor the real teen heroes of our generation: the cast of Saved By The Bell.

Interestingly enough, when I was in high school my friends voted me as both the Donna Martin AND the Violet Bickerstaff (Screech's girlfriend) of the group. (We were really into assigning each other television personalities to make our non dramatic lives seem a little more interesting.) Both roles were of course played by Tori Spelling and even ten years later I'm not quite sure how I feel about being linked to her twice.



Anyway, I think both shows are worth a thought on this fictional holiday. So I'm spending the evening at home. Watching Dawson's Creek season two and working on some of my own scripts. Because that's what Tori Spelling, or one of her characters, would probably be doing, right?

Stripper? I Hardly Know Her!

Rabbit Rabbit. It's the first of the month! And after a rocky August I have to admit I wasn't eagerly awaiting September's autumn air. When 2010 began I promised myself that the theme of the year would be doing things that scare me. But after some rather draining weeks I had started to lose sight of that. Thankfully, a friend of mine made a suggestion (based upon a month I experienced two years ago) to commit to thirty days of saying yes. One month to open myself up to any and all possibilities and situations.

So where to begin? How to uncover a new challenge? Well, by uncovering myself, I guess. That's right, today I said yes to taking a strip tease class. Followed by a hip hop dance class.

We'll rewind. I've been a member of 24 Hour Fitness for over two years now. And with that membership I have access to all of their classes around the city. Until this summer, I had been too nervous to try a class. Convinced that I'd make a complete fool of myself and drown in a sea of athletic attractive gym goers. But the past few months have actually pleasantly surprised me. Attempting a few different types of their offerings has actually become, dare I say it, fun. While looking up classes for the week I came across 24Tease at the Castro location. A class that "provides a safe environment for members to get in touch with their inner stripper". I, of course, laughed at the class and laughed even harder at the idea of me completing it. But after a good hearty chuckle I realized that I had no choice but to fight my fear and say yes.

I arrived five minutes early and accidentally walked in on the end of a Turbo Kick class. I awkwardly hid in the corner with their mats and weights wondering if in the history of time if five minutes had ever passed by so slowly. Yes. Turns out the ninety minutes I spent in that room after that passed so slowly I convinced myself that time had actually stopped moving just to mock me in my misery.

"24Tease" started with only five participants. I was sort of hoping it'd be full of middle age women looking to rekindle their sexy ways and that I could hide in the back and judge them. But no. With only five of us, we were all on display. And I don't know if any of you have been to the Castro location of 24 Hour Fitness but the class room at this gym faces all of their machines and equipment. So we were also on showcase for everyone else who was casually working out. Yeah. Yikes, right?

Anyway, the class is only thirty minutes long. You do a sexy warm up for five minutes. You attempt a few different types of strut walks for another ten minutes. Then you learn a sexy routine for ten minutes. And it ends with running the dance with a towel and a sexy cool down. Sexy galore!

Now, no one told me I had to bring a stripping towel. So I had to use my bright pink hoodie I had in my bag. And I'm just going leave it at that. You can imagine how silly I looked, can't you?


It wasn't the greatest workout but there were some entertaining elements, I suppose. If anyone wants to see my version of a sexy towel dance though you'll probably have to just imagine it. I don't know if I'd be inclined to take the class again.

Afterward, I stayed for the Hip Hop class. I was hoping for an aerobic hour with fun music to dance to where I could, again, hide in the back. Nope. It was another small attendance full of cold and quiet people. And the whole class was spent learning choreography for one song I had never heard of. So sadly, I just wasn't into it. At all.

On my way out of the building I walked into a posse of naked men. Well, they were wearing socks and shoes. And sometimes a bag. But other than that, they were totally nude. I guess you don't always need a strip tease class to uncover yourself.

But that's part of saying yes to things you normally wouldn't think to do. You discover that yeah, you were right, some things just deserve a no. But you have to experience them before you're really sure... and now you can all enjoy the idea of this gal in a strip tease class. Hilarious, huh? And besides, perhaps tomorrow's yes will have an entirely different outcome...

The Moon, Mercury, and Some Dog Poop

Happy full moon, friends. Mercury is also back to her old tricks in retrograde. Maybe you're one of those people who thinks putting thought into things like that is silly and pointless. But as I love the silly and pointless I can't help but find it interesting. Perhaps I'm just always looking to blame my bad luck on something I can't control.

And today struck me with some interesting luck. Nothing epic. Just interesting.

It began when I took my dog, Lua (which means moon in Portuguese!) out for her morning "business meeting". While picking up her remains I managed to step off the curb and fall into the street. No traffic was stopped, no one besides my pride had to suffer through that one. I just took my scratched up hands and shook them to the sky for a moment before heading back inside.

After two bizarre bus situations, I made it to camp (my current stream of income) two minutes late. And I'm never late to work so you can imagine how even two minutes would irk me. I shared a fine morning of theater games and unrelated conversations about cats with the kids before we headed to lunch.

When we had finished our tree shaded picnic at the park, and one child had used my arm as a tissue, three girls had to use the bathroom and voted me as their travel agent. Being cool enough to be considered for such an honor was a real compliment. While we walked to the restrooms we passed by a very old woman and her dog, who was in the middle of his own business meeting. She started loudly verbalizing her utter discomfort at the situation. She was sitting in some type of wheel chair device and it was obvious that the mere task of picking up after her dog would put her through some serious stress and probably take the rest of the afternoon. She must have sensed my weakness for pets and old people, as it felt like she was speaking loudly for my benefit, but I immediately volunteered to pick up after her dog and dispose of his waste.

And, um, yikes. That little dog had created quite the mass. I won't get too into it because that would be unfortunate. I'll just say it was truly a shocking and smelly experience. And I deal in the shocking and smelly everyday. But she was very grateful. And it seems with a little act of humanity people are often very willing to leave you with some sweet words of their own, as if your gesture had a price. She told me I was kind and beautiful... and that she liked my skirt. And then how pretty she thought my daughters were. You know, those three eight year olds I dragged along for this undertaking.

As we walked away the girls giggled at the idea of me being their mom. (Which I appreciated. Considering the birthing process of producing three gals around the same age would probably be tricky.) And I explained that sometimes when we can be a help to someone else that we need to step up and do what we can. In complete seriousness, one of the girls came over and whispered to me, "What if we see an old lady with a pooping dog and we don't know how to pick up the poop? What do we do?!" I tried to explain my personal technique with my motherly smile but ultimately explained that just being nice to people is the most important thing. The rest falls into place. Lesson learned, little ladies!

Another bizarro bus situation for my return home and further cell phone issues later, I got back to my apartment just in time to deal with my own little poop machine. And with plenty of time to enjoy this warm moon filled evening... wondering what the planets have in store for us next...

Dog Gone Good Deed

When I worked at Bath and Body Works one of our sales beliefs was, "make someone's day". So corny, I know, but it's actually something that I've come to value. Whenever I'm having an off day or feeling sad I try to refocus and try to do that. Make someone's day.

It's not a difficult task when it comes to me, people constantly make my day with a kind word or a high five. A simple act of thoughtfulness will take you everywhere.

After a wonderful Theater Pub on the warmest day/night I've experienced here in a long time I stopped into Walgreens on my walk home and picked up some items for my dog. Deciding within the moment to purchase her some bones that are supposed to a dog's breath better. (Which would hopefully be a win for both of us.)

I completed my walk under the almost full moon and was greeted by an excited pup. When I presented her with her bone she hopped with delight and licked me with appreciation. It was sort of gross. But still so cute! I realized that while I may not have made any one person's day today, I made one little dog happy. And it's a wonderful feeling.

So try it sometime. Aim to make someone or some dog's day, I think you'll find it makes your own.

TJ's Trades

By now I'm sure you've realized that I do a lot of thinking about food. A lot. And most of my time is spent with the belief that I may actually be able to find a more meaningful relationship with some of my prized Trader Joe's snack items than with actual human companionship. (If the saying, "you are what you eat" is true, what do you think that says about me?)

I've also found that simply asking someone what their favorite treat from TJ's is can often unveil a little more about them and increase your own knowledge of all things yummy. I'm currently having a secret love affair with their Scottie Dogs and their dark chocolate and sea salt covered almonds. Please don't tell hummus.



I was never much of a black licorice fan, but seriously, guys, those things are da bomb. And a girl like me shouldn't be allowed to say things like "da bomb", you know?






And I'd pretty much do anything dark chocolate told me to do. But throw in an almond and some sea salt? Well, let's just say if they were in the form of a fictional chocolate river, I would pull an Augustus Gloop and early disqualify myself from the chance of owning an oompa loompa run chocolate factory.

So anyway, everyone, as you've probably gathered, I love my Trader Joe's delights. And now I'd love to know if we are what we eat, what are you? (Based upon your favorite TJ's item, please. Ah, thank you, my fellow food frienders.)

God Spells Google

Google image your name. I happened to do it by accident but it proved to be an amusing experience. I immediately found this picture. From a production of "Godspell" I was in over three and a half years ago. YIKES, right? Ah, the internet. You always know how to keep it real, huh?

Further 38 Finds

After an evening celebrating Julia's birth at Kennedy's in North Beach, I made my way back to Divisadero. On the 38 I had the distinct pleasure of sitting next to a young gentleman who giggled while reading his bible and sat across from another lad who had the creepy Kill Bill whistle as his personal ring tone.


Once I was home I threw on my cupcake pajamas that would rival Liz Lemon's collection to take my dog out. One of the blessings and curses of living above two bars is that your doorstop is constantly filled with people. Mainly of the drunk variety. Often they're more of an annoyance to be honest but sometimes they can't help but make me laugh. Even in the rain, even while walking my little dog, even with me looking like a crazy homeless woman wearing a dress over my pjs and flip flops, I still earned a nod and smile from a tipsy male bar patron. Thank you, as always, city, for keeping me entertained and flattered in the most unexpected hours.

Eat Pray Love? Meet, Sweet Gray Glove.

I had recently returned to San Francisco in January of 2008 to find myself more alone than I had ever been in my life. 3,000 miles away from everyone and anyone, I began to learn the streets of the city with solo steps. I had decided to live in San Francisco because I had been cast in "Tony N Tina's Wedding", a casting choice which forced me to leap into the unknown and leave the comforts of the east coast; however, as our rehearsals didn't begin until February, I had one month to endure alone. As I didn't have any companions around, I took to my old habit of befriending my books. Each night after work, I went home to my sublet and made relationships with literature.


One of the books that happened my way that winter was Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat Pray Love". Perhaps it was my endless solitude, perhaps it was because I was trying to get over a heartbreak, perhaps I just really needed someone to understand me, but I found a peace within those pages. A humorous emotional lady out on a soul search of her own, trying to find happiness in unconventional settings, and learning how to love herself along the journey. In any case, I felt as though she sang a familiar tune and I longed to create harmony.

These past few days haven't been the easiest and I've found myself in a similar place to the Ashley of 2008. On the cusp of something just out of reach, fearful to both move forward and stay still. Thankfully, I have some additional comforts now; the most important being the presence of my sister, Katelyn. The person I admire most in the world and who forces me to be a better and stronger lady by simply existing. And tonight she got me out of sulking at home and met me for dinner and a movie.

Egg Salad sandwiches, a white cherry icee, and some split donuts. If that's not the definition of eat, pray, love, what is? I snuggled into the dark theater wearing my gray fingerless gloves made by my sister and tried to get lost in movie world. While the film isn't totally a cinematic achievement for our time, it is a sweet representation of the book and made for an enjoyable evening. As we longed for the sites of faraway places and Julia's pretty wavy locks we caught a 38 bus and made our ways home.

One of the questions that struck me tonight from the film though was idea of picking one word to capture your essence. One word that defines your life. One word to share with the world. I'm still thinking about what mine would be, but I'd love to know what word you would pick for yourselves. To see if, perhaps, our words can form a story. So, let's try it. What would your word be? Once upon a time...

One Call to Singleton, Please.

This week, I'm suffering with a phone that won't make/take calls or send/receive texts. So basically, I'm paying $100 bucks a month for a glorified time telling device that plays music... sometimes.

And as I had discussed, just mere days ago, being in a long distance relationship ultimately equaled dating my phone. Well, it seems both have taken an unfortunate turn and won't be able to weather this storm. Amusingly enough, I guess, I woke up this morning with a dead phone and a sadness in my heart to look outside and see the sun. A sight I have not witnessed in weeks. I walked out into the warmish weather to take care of my dog. I managed to get a teary phone call out to my mother. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Accepting that the reality of life is that things break. All the time. Even when we need them or want them. But that you have to do what you can to remedy the problem, be strong, and keep going, not allowing too much of yourself to break along with it. I'm trying to leave the stormy rain cloud that I'm feeling inside and open myself up to this beautiful San Francisco day unfolding. At least for a little while so that I can get to the AT&T store and start working on a new phone...

Pint Sized Bites And Beers

I, the Starving Artist, often find that I've bitten off more than I may be able to chew. That perhaps sometimes there is just a little too much on my plate. But then again, at the same time, I'm always hungry for more.

Tonight was the first performance of Theater Pub's Pint Sized Plays. A project that I had the privilege of sharing a piece I wrote and directed and another which I acted in. This opportunity came at the end of a busy summer for me. After a busy season of trips and work on other plays, I knew that agreeing to take on multiple responsibilities was going to involve biting more than a pint.


But maybe it's the lovely magic of the theater that takes away one's gag reflex. (You know, among the many other wonderful things it can provide.) I may have been challenged by a few stressful evenings full of actor nightmares and a day spent actually being too nervous to eat anything substantial (hard to believe, I know), but in the end, I was full of love. Delicious theater love. My fellas did a fantastic job in my play, "Genie In A Bud Light" and minutes later the piece I acted in, "Queen Mab In Drag" finally bloomed in front of its first audience. An evening surrounded by theater, friends (two of which mentioned reading my blog - hey, Carl!), laughs, and beer? What could be better?

Well, I'll tell you. Being high-fived at my exit by a drunk girl with the call, "You! You the actress girl with the big eyes!" and getting my appetite back to eat a slice of pizza with my director and lovely friend, Julia, before walking home in some late San Francisco mist. Good one, Monday night, I'm looking forward to doing it all again next week. And, luckily, now that some of the nerves have passed I can return to my normal eating habits... in hopes that one day I'll go from Starving Artist to Only Moderately Hungry Artist.

Overheard, Overshared?

This evening my sister and I dined at a cheap Indian food restaurant located within a few blocks from the place she's house/pet sitting while I took advantage of her temporary living arrangement with three alarmingly large loads of laundry. We sat behind a couple in their fifties who spoke both in animated tones and intimate purrs. Our favorite conversation went a little something like this:

Guy: What should we do tonight?

Gal: (sigh) Sex and a movie?

Guy: (sigh) Yeah, I guess.

I assume they went home and enjoyed some indoor recreation along with their leftovers and I went home with damp (but clean!) clothes. Sounds about right.

An Average Ashley August Afternoon

San Francisco is currently experiencing its coldest summer since 1971. Waking up to chills and clouds has become a constant. And so began another August Saturday afternoon by the bay.

Before heading to rehearsal in the Mission, I stopped into Martha's, our neighborhood coffee shop, for, big shocker here, a coffee. Similar to Sally in "When Harry Met Sally", I tend to have some specific demands with my orders but I also attempt to add my own solutions. For example, I enjoy my Martha's iced coffee with Trader Joe's vanilla soy milk. Knowing that, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to take some with me so that I could the enjoy my delicious combination on the run. So, I placed some milk into a small container, kissed my dog goodbye, and left. What could go wrong, right?

I claimed a spot in line behind a smiley man fresh off a workout. He turned around, gave me an uninterested glance, and then caught the eye of another lady. A blond one. She got in line behind me and he turned around a bit further to compliment her outfit. I couldn't help but wonder if I had decided against wearing my worn in Salvation Army threads if he would have shared some kind words in my direction. But in any case, I stood there, with my small plastic container, in the middle of this budding romance. Minutes passed. Workout Mcgee continued to turn around longingly to his blond stylish beauty while I awkwardly stood in his way thinking about food fantasies and coffee beverages.

Thankfully, for all of us, I got my drink and this gentleman was able to more actively pursue his gal. I watched for a few moments as they engaged in new conversation and flirtation as I pulled out my soy milk. Well, in typical Ashley fashion, I opened the container and spilled it everywhere. My cheeks raced to red as I scurried to remedy this accident. All the while, I continued to wish the new couple well.

I then got on the bus, found a seat, and within ten seconds, a mentally disabled man followed me and complimented MY outfit. He was very sweet and then proceeded to spend the next ten minutes making observations about me like, "You have two feet." "I can see your ankle." "You have brown hair." Whenever he remarked about my hands we would high five or he would shake my hand. Part my idea, part his.

Leave it to the SF bus system to prove to me that there really is balance in the world and while one person may not appreciate my hair color or clothing choice, another one will. As for my clumsy ways and coffee addiction? Well, some things never change.

Absence Makes The Heart Go Ponder

Out of sight, out of mind or absence makes the heart grow fonder? I presented the question to my boyfriend through a text one evening and he responded with the response, "It seems like absence makes your heart go ponder." Well put, boyfriend, I knew I was dating you for a reason.

Though, because of our current situation, we're both, more truthfully, in relationships with our phones. That's right, folks, we're long distance. A type of relationship that's new to both of us and something we're trying to blindly survive. The "we" that we've created exists in phone calls, texts, memories, and photographs to cling to. But if a picture is worth a thousand words, how many are allotted to silent intimacies like hand holds and understood shared glances? In my opinion, not enough.

So what is the secret to success? Anyone? After years of comically horrendous dating mishaps and stormy heartbreaks, I met someone who seemed to defy my fears. He sailed in as gracefully as a ship in languid waters and struck like a rocket destined to burning speed aimed toward me without my knowledge. Our meeting was thanks to a dare inspired by one too many free beverages offered at an opening night gala as we found ourselves cast in a crowd of well dressed theater enthusiasts. I (oh, so, wrongfully) assumed he was gay and spent the evening exchanging words with an out of state stranger assuming that I'd leave that night with an appreciation for intelligent conversation with a good looking man in a suit and a beer buzz.



What followed that buzz though, was something beyond a movie. And while our time together was short, it was more than sweet. I've always been a romantic, an avid fan of fairy tales, if you will, but I've also always had an unfortunate habit to linger closer to the edge of skepticism when it came to my own love life. Questioning whether I could meet someone who could not only tolerate my proclaimed quirky tendencies and notorious bad jokes, but actually enjoy them and provide me with their own unique humorous stylings as well. If this relationship ends with nothing more than an answer to that seemingly simple question, then we can already claim it a victory. And so after our evening rivaling the beautiful film, "Before Sunrise", we began the "courting process". One month of daily treasured calls from the girl who despises the phone later, we met again on his turf and gave a title to our understanding: a relationship. A long distance relationship.

Over 1,000 texts and nightly conversations even later than that. Here we are. About to celebrate three months of knowing each other and sadly, it won't involve anything further than another date with our phones and perhaps a stroll down memory lane. I often feel that along with being in a relationship with my iphone, I'm also in a relationship with my loneliness. (Which, if you combined them, could be called "ilone". Right?!) A solitude I both welcome and ache for. Our time away gives me too much time to think but it's nice having someone worthy of so many thoughts. I wish we could consult a copy of "Long Distance Relationship Guide To Those Who Are Financially Challenged And Can't Often Afford The High Costs Of Flights, Especially If They Want To Check Their Bags Or Eat On The Trip, But Long To... For Dumbies" but it seems like the book has been sold out for awhile. And so I look to you, internet. And I don't mean for porn. To share my experience and hope that advice or perspective finds me... What do you think? Is it as easy as out of sight, out of mind or does absence truly make the heart grow fonder?