30 Days of Turning 30 Recap

It's not easy celebrating a birthday for a whole month.  I think it falls under the category of "too much of a good thing."  I do, however, think it was good for me and Tommie to push ourselves to get out more, keep track of local events, try new things, and to be more conscious of how we spend our days--before we're so old we can't remember anymore.

It's no surprise that a lot of what we do involves eating.  At least half of our 30 posts included some kind of food.  It's also promising to see that the majority of things we did cost little to no money--even some of the events we attended were free.  There are a lot of cool free things to do around Durham if you look.  Our most expensive days were spent at big events like a concert and the state fair.  

I'm sad October is over, but we can't force ourselves to have fun forever--it's tiring.  This was good practice for the upcoming months when we have a couple weeks around the holidays to do fun things with guests, and now we know a little bit more about the place we live.

30/30: Finishing with Food Trucks

October 30th

We'll finish the month off the way it began--with food.  Always with food.

Carrboro had a mini food truck rodeo tonight so we stopped by and grabbed a pork butt with asian style slaw sandwich from The American Meltdown and an NC cornbread chill bowl from Foster's on the Fly.

It was a nice warm night (around 70 degrees) and we ate in the square.  

Sadly, our birthday month is coming to an end, but I know we will continue to eat well and celebrate the rest of the year.

30/30: Happy New Era!

October 16th

For my last photos in my twenties, I wanted to pay homage to my running status as the world’s last young, old person.  Though, if it wasn’t a Wednesday night in North Carolina (and probably if my sister was around)…I’d prefer to be spending my last hour watching the Thunder Down Under.

I tried to think of something ceremonious I could do.  People like to plant trees.  I recalled a seedling packet for a Japanese Red Maple (I love those trees) that we received as a favor during a wedding we attended when we first moved to San Diego.  I have no idea if the seeds will still sprout, but I planted it right before midnight and made a wish.

Of course, I had to stay up until midnight of my birthday just like you do on New Year’s.  Only I’m the only person cheering, “Happy new era!” like the crazy old lady I now am.

30 Days of Turning 30 Kick Off

October is my birthday month and this month I'm turning 30.  It's impossible, but apparently true.

My late twenties were not easy on me, so in a way, that's the silver lining--I'm not dreading the milestone of entering a new era.  Still, I feel like I should be doing something to commemorate the moment.

I wish I came up with the idea sooner, but last night (September 30th) at 11 p.m.  I decided my husband and I (he is turing 30 this month too) should challenge ourselves to "30 Days of Turning 30."  I don't know exactly what this means, but it currently means thinking of something fun and creative to do each day of our birthday month.  Some days it can be as simple as taking a good walk or cooking a good meal, other days it should be more elaborate.  If my sister were here, she'd call it her "30-Day Shit Show."  We're a little more sophisticated (and lame) than that.

October 1st

Seafood sales at Harris Teeter prompted us to cook a fish dinner with a "side" of baked lobster tails.  Fish is a rarity of us nowadays because it's hard to get wild caught, fresh(ish), affordable fish in the middle of the state.  

Lobster is always a good way to kick off a birthday month.

This is for the Ladies...with Hernias

I feel like it's important for me to share my journey to diagnosis, treatment, and recovery from an inguinal hernia.  Why talk about something that's a common medical problem and really not that interesting?  Because it's not a common medical problem for women, therefore, many women who suffer from hernias go a long time without being understood, diagnosed, and ultimately fixed.  This post is for the ladies who, like me, end up turning to Google for answers because the medical world isn't providing them.

This time last year, a sharp, but not an incapacitating, pain began to originate from my lower right abdomen.  My husband and I had just moved, and I packed up a whole house and did hours of yard work every day.  I thought maybe I pulled a muscle so I waited a couple months to see if it got better but instead the pain became more consistent and slowly worse.  Despite me describing all of this to several doctors, the consideration of a hernia never came up (even though I asked about it).  Nothing was protruding from my abdomen or groin--"We would see it," they all told me while I lay on the examining table.  I was ordered a CT scan to check for kidney stones but the report came back with no specific findings.  A gastrointestinal specialist told me I couldn't have a hernia because it would have appeared on the CT scan.  They were all wrong.

What ensued for nearly a whole year was an emotionally and physically draining process of seeing three different physicians, two gynecologists, a gastrointestinal specialist, an endocrinologist, having a CT scan, three ultrasounds, numerous lab work, and a procedure performed with still no answers.  The last doctor I saw ultimately thought I was imagining the pain and recommended anxiety pills and trigger point injections even though they didn't know what they would be "shooting" at.  I'm so glad I didn't follow her advice.

Finally, when I had given up hope, an OB/GYN referred me to a pelvic pain clinic with the thought that I could have endometriosis.  The clinic, which specializes in obstetrics and gynecology, spent 45 minutes asking me in-depth questions, performed an extensive pelvic examination, then the doctor had me stand up to feel each side of my abdomen with both hands.  In the end, the hernia was diagnosed because he was able to feel the fullness I described on my right side and noticed an asymmetry between my left and right side.  No actual tests were needed.

Hernias are obviously much more common in men and easy to diagnose, but they should never be ruled out as a possibility for women—even if it cannot be seen or does not appear on a scan.  The best way is to feel for it by performing a basic exam with the patient standing up, not lying down.

Perhaps the most upsetting part to me is that I came across this article from the NY Times in September 2012 and it prompted me to ask each doctor with whom I met about the possibility that I was suffering from a hernia.  It seems I'm not the only one to go through such a frustrating ordeal.

I guess my advice for anyone suffering from an unexplained pain is to be vigilant and strong.  I'm a strong person, but doctors are my kryptonite.  I am not going to lie...having to see a new doctor every week and never getting taken seriously made me depressed.  It was so hard to stay strong and advocate for myself when I was knocked down over and over again, but it's true that you have to be your best advocate.  Doctors are just people--flawed, imperfect, and not always helpful, or caring for that matter.  You have to take care of yourself and keep searching.  Eventually, someone will come into your life to help put the nightmare behind you.  

When I actually got diagnosed it only took a couple months to have the whole thing straightened out.  I was referred to a gastrointestinal surgeon who performed outpatient laparoscopic surgery with mesh to repair my right side (a full blown hernia), as well as to patch up a node of fat poking out on my left side which could lead to a hernia down the road.  

The surgery was not as bad as I thought it would be (at least not laparoscopic).  It felt like someone made me do 3,000 sit ups for the first few days, but within two weeks I was just about back to full mobility.  The greatest change, however, is in my mood.  The uncertainty and pain from before was like a dark cloud hovering over me. 

I'm a writer so you better believe I shared my thoughts and discoveries with every single doctor with whom I had met--not to rub it in their face (okay, maybe a little), but more importantly, to spread the word about the medical mistake of overlooking hernias in women.  After what I went through, I really don't want this to keep happening.  If you are a woman out there going through this, good luck and stay strong.

Radio Silence...And A New Blog

This past year kicked my ass.  Actually, it's been a gradual build-up of a few hard years cumulating to this final boot in the butt.

While writing helps me sort through emotions and hardships, it didn't seem productive/fair to subject the cyber world to my woes, so I didn't write much at all.

This year was emotionally and physically destructive and I blame it on one thing.  Doctors.   They are my Kryptonite and they wore me down.  After a year of appointments with 10 different doctors, going through dozens of tests and lab work to try to figure out a chronic pain in my lower right abdomen, a pelvic pain specialist finally figured out it's a hernia.

The worst part is that when the pain first started I read an article in the NY Times about how difficult hernias are to diagnose in women so I asked every doctor about it but they all told me I was wrong and thought I was crazy.  I can't even begin to tell you how frustrating and taxing this experience was for me.

Here is a link to the article about diagnosing hernias in women.  All doctors should read this.

I am partly relieved to finally know what the problem is but terrified, of course, to face surgery and recovery.

With that said, I'm focusing my attention elsewhere.  In the midst of all this madness, my husband and I bought our first home.  It needs major updates so I have no shortage of projects lined up and things to distract me from the rest of my problems at hand.

To chronicle the progress of the house for our families, friends, and anyone else to follow along, I started a new blog.  It's called The Amberican Dream.  

Hope to see you there!

Adult-In-Transition

We have different stages to pass through in life--there is childhood to adolescence, adolescence to young adult, and young adult to adult...you get the idea.  Each stage comes with increasingly difficult challenges we must get through before successfully moving on to the next phase.  I've always been hyper-sensitive to these transitional moments.  They are full of change and uncertainly and they put my worry-meter on high alert.

As an adult-in-transition, I find myself worrying about things I never had to worry about before--big things. I worry about my health, I worry about my parent's health, I worry about long-term financial stability, about settling in the right place, buying the right house, and starting my own version of a family.  

I joke that I feel like I'm going through a second puberty--only "adult puberty" feels worse.  My body isn't changing, it's decaying.  My emotions aren't melodramatic, they are dramatic.  At this rate, I'll need a lobotomy when I hit menopause.

Through each transition we gather wisdom, we gather strength, and we gain a few new scars.  I have felt myself getting knocked down over and over again as I try to figure out a comfortable landing spot (both mentally and physically) for my adult life.  Some days I can  feel myself gathering strength, while other days I feel like I'm falling backwards.

I need to remember that we don't get to choose when or how the transition stops.  One day, life just gets a little easier, but really, it's us--we've adjusted to the hardships and it feels like life is easier.  I just have to hope that I come out on the other side of all this a wiser and stronger soul.  I'm working on it.

Crazy in North Cackalacky

If I had blogged this past month, each post would have been titled "Why I Hate Doctors."  After seeing numerous doctors and specialists for chronic abdominal pain, having complications with a small procedure, and ending up in the ER, I realized that I was right all these years not to trust doctors.  I'm going with my gut, literally, and switching to an integrative health practice, and I feel better about it already.

Ironically, I have lived in three major medical/research areas in the country (San Diego, Boston, and now Raleigh/Durham)--surrounded by my medical mortal enemies (only a slight exaggeration).  Taking a more holistic/creative approach sometimes makes me feel like I'm the odd girl out...especially in the south.  I'm not sure where my quirky views and lifestyle fit here in north cackalacky, and I definitely find myself holding back for fear of saying/doing something too off-color.

I'm not used to being the craziest person around.  I've always been weird, no doubt, but (aside from my opinion that childbirth is actually the most unnatural thing in the world) I don't think I'd win the prize for crazy...until now.  People here don't talk about going to hippy doctors; they don't believe in astrology more than God; they don't use adjectives like "shitty"; and in reference to The Bachelor, they claim they would never kiss someone on national television.  Pa-lease.  They'd be lucky if I stopped there (again, only a slight exaggeration).

Maybe I need to meet weirder friends; maybe I need to accept that until more northerners keep moving down here, I'll be one of the pioneer weirdos in the south.  Onward!

Welcome 2013: A Four Year Review

It took me far too long this morning to figure out that I have been blogging for four years.  (I'm really bad at math.)  Here are some stats about my four year tenure blogging that Google helped me figure out.

Since I began this blog just before the start of 2009, I have moved from California to Massachusetts to North Carolina.  We have lived in four different apartments.  That's almost one state and one apartment per year.  Maybe it's time to settle down.

I blog an an average of 40-50 posts per year, which is half the amount of posts I completed in my first year.  I guess the "newness" blogging rubbed off a bit after that first year.

How to make Soup Can Luminaries is my #1 viewed post of all time, with almost 700 views.  Pinterest surely has something to do with that.

I have 246 comments total--most of which are from my family, though a few brave cyber readers share their thoughts here and there.  Thanks brave cyber readers...I appreciate knowing it's not only my family reading.

Obviously, most of my page views come from the U.S., but the second largest number of views come from Russia.  Who would have thought?  Then it's Canada, The United Kingdom, and India.

Today, I begin my fifth year of blogging and wish everyone around the world a great start to 2013!

Thankful For Warm Winter Days

I need to make a concerted effort to blog more often. I spend my days on assignment writing about things I don't very much care to write about, and sometimes that makes me cranky. Letters From A Libra is a side outlet for me to write about anything I want, and it helps keep me grounded.

I also want to keep my friends and family up-to-date on our lives in the south. This is the first time Tommie and I have truly been on our own with no family around, so its' a good way for us to share what we're up to with them...and with complete strangers on the Internet. Good thing I like over sharing with strangers.

I also don't want to loose sight of all the good things about our new life here. Like the fact that on December 3rd it is a balmy 73 degrees. I went for a run in shorts and a t-shirt; I have the slider open for fresh air, and Maya is laying in the sun. There is still a semblance of seasonal changes here, but we don't have to stop enjoying the outdoors in October.

This is Maya after she fell asleep in the sun and was so zonked she didn't notice when it turned to shade. Anyone looking outside would think we had a dead dog in our yard (I put the blanket over her earlier so her belly wouldn't burn). Luckily, no squirrels crossed her path and woke the dragon. Clearly, she's learning to like it here.

Bringing Pinterest to Life

A lot of what we do around here involves food.

We go out and try new restaurants around Durham; we head over to neighbor's houses for potlucks and curry; we host new friends at cook-outs and dinners. We don't drink, but we sure do eat a lot.

My go-to recipes for get-togethers are guacamole and key lime pie, but we've already graced parties with these platters so I've had to start thinking of ways to branch out. Enter Pinterest. 

The danger with Pinterest is that you may find yourself pinning pretty picture after pretty picture but not actually doing anything about it, so I've been going back and attempting to bring my "Foodie" board to life.

I posted a couple weeks ago about making this pasta, crab, and basil dish. It was simple to make, filling, and a welcome change from regular pasta.

This week I was tasked to make a salad for a get together. I had no lettuce but I did have plenty of basil growing outside and bright orange tomatoes from the farmer's market, so I tried this chickpea, basil, and cherry tomato salad recipe. Again, easy to make (this is key for me) and a twist on regular salad. 

Over the long weekend, I tried this recipe for banana "ice cream," which really only requires frozen bananas and a food processor. If you want, you can add peanut butter and cocoa. 

This never happens, but I actually might like the plain banana version better. I still eat my fair share of regular ice cream, but this is a healthy alternative. It even looks like ice cream.

I have to admit that I feel a sense of accomplishment seeing these pins come to life instead of just drooling over the pictures. 

Going to Carolina

We will be on our way to North Carolina this time next week. Well, I will be. Tommie is already there, so I guess he'll be on his way back.

We've been living separate lives for a few weeks while he started his new job down there and I stayed here to wrap up and pack. I think we both feel we could use a temporary boyfriend/girlfriend while the other one is away. I swear I just want one to help pack and move things around, though naturally I wouldn't mind if he did this with his shirt off. Alas, I'm managing without a Ryan Gosling look-a-like to help, but I'm anxious to get going. 


Just like when my family moved to California, I'm not sure what to expect. That was over six years ago, and now I look back and I forget what a crazy time that was--learning a new place, meeting new people, making a new life. 

The first time I left home I was nostalgic, but it's different leaving the second time. It is partly true what they say, that you can never really go back home. It's not the place that changes so much as it is you that changes from living somewhere else. Also, after leaving home for the first time, you realize you can leave home. You can make a life for yourself somewhere else, and that knowledge is powerful. 

I used to be afraid of change, but over time I realized I can't control it--all I can do is try my best to thrive within it. So, here we go onto the next big change. I'll be sure to document bits and pieces along the way.

The Hollow Woman

My sister and I joke about wanting to be hollow...and I don't mean shallow, though we can sometimes be that too...I mean hollow bodies--no bones, no blood, no organs. Like one of those chocolate Easter bunnies'. I wish I was born hollow (and somehow still alive) because as I'm terrified of being "hollowed out" involuntarily.

My Mom hasn't had the best of luck keeping what's inside her. Heck, even my sister and I had to be cut out (C-sections); she told the Docs to grab her appendix while they were in there. Last year, they had to take even more from her...one of her kidneys that had a cancerous mass on it, and just last week they took a lobe of one of her lungs where another mass had formed. I am beyond thankful she is recovering well as I write this. My Mom is so much more than a bunch of cells and organs that are in her and taken out. I hope she always keeps her inner strength, humor, love, and of course, the rest of her insides. (She blogs about her experience here.) 

Pinterest: Bravely Go Where Few Men Have Gone Before

My husband prides himself on being somewhat of a social media guru, and he is pretty savvy when it comes to figuring out how to navigate new technology, but he joined Pinterest today and the pressure to pin has left him pretty distraught.

He is very concerned about the "finality" of his boards and pins--so much so, after two hours he had only two pins and he tried to strangle himself with his wrist rest. 

He is also trying to understand the patterns to everyone's boards and the number of boards they follow. Numbers? Patterns? This is Pinterest, Tommie, not Excel.


Based on other blogs and discussions, it seems it's more difficult for men to wrap their heads around Pinterest because it appeals more to a woman's mind which is constantly going from one thought to the next in rapid succession, and to our affinity for pretty things. Pinterest helps organize the jumble of ideas we have, the inspiration we come across, and captures our dreams. I think, if it's pretty, pin it, while Tommie abides by the motto, ponder before pinning.

Other men have mastered the art of Pinterest, but for Tommie, it will take some time. He just isn't comfortable being swept away by pretty pictures--he's got to approach it with a solid plan in place. Here he is manually writing out his board ideas on a whiteboard. Who knew pinning could be so serious?

My Dad's Birthday

Today is my Dad's birthday. The other day he wrote a blog about climbing trees. Sometimes I don't think he's aged a day over 18, and that's the way he likes it. 

Most kids grow up with parents who harp on them about responsibility and limitations, but I was born overly cautious and serious and it was my parents who taught me to dream, take risks, and to find the humor in life and in each other.

This is my Dad trying to surf five years ago. He fell off the board all day long but he never stopped trying, and he had a blast. Even though he never preaches to me, I learn lessons from him every day.


Although we're up against some challenging times right now, I know my family can fall and get up again...and again and again. I know we still have dreams to dream, risks to take, and a sense of humor to keep us all sane. We've been practicing this for years.


So today, I'm glad for my Dad who helps me understand that life doesn't have to be so serious, even when it is. Happy birthday, Dad.

In a Nutshell

I know I haven't blogged in a while, but you haven't missed much.

I am finally getting over an infection from my foot surgery.

Our wi-fi hasn't been working so there's been some limitations with Internet access. 

I'm trying to keep on top of my article assignments for work while also trying to find time to write some of my own stuff.

The weather is remarkably warm for mid-March (mid-70's in the Boston-area) and is trying erase our memory of how horrible last winter was.

I am traveling to Florida this week for work and hope my foot doesn't swell up like a balloon on the plane.

With nice weather and better times upon us, I hope to have more exciting things to write about soon.

Back Into the World

Tomorrow I'm headed back to work. I wish I could say my foot felt all better but each night it hurts like a son of a gun and the cast is really starting to bug me. I'm also anxious to be able to walk again sometime since I've only been outside twice in the past week and I move slower than my grandmother probably ever will.

Tommie has been good at doing stuff around the house. Maya, on the other hand, seems annoyed that I've been hogging all 'her" furniture with my leg up.

Though the recovery is slow, I'm happy the actual surgery wasn't as bad as I anticipated. Despite my nerves causing my blood pressure and temperature to soar, I was very composed. I did say some pretty strange things...like that I would rather be a tree than a person...which I think I should have waited to say until after I had been put on strong meds so the nurses wouldn't have given me such strange looks.

Whatever...we're used to strange looks, right Maya?

Pep Talk

I am terrified about tomorrow and the months of recovery after it. Last week I was supposed to work on accepting things...man, I really suck at that. My constant state of terror has turned me into a crazy person who gives herself fantasy pep talks to try to prevent ulcers.

Here is what I keep telling myself...

You can't plan anything fun until you do this. This part of the pep talk is actually true. Knowing I'll have a swollen foot for six months after surgery makes it hard to plan for anything fun or exciting. Once the surgery is over, I can anticipate a time when the pain is over and look forward to that.

Here's where it gets weird...I am pretending someone is paying me $50,000. That's how much I would voluntarily do it for, though, for future reference, the price for major surgery increases significantly to half a million. No one has really offered me $50K, but if I keep telling myself that's the deal, I momentarily trick myself into thinking it's all for a better cause.

Also, I don't watch sports, but I'm feeling a sympathetic connection to one of the Patriot's players (Gronkowski) who hurt his ankle in last week's playoff game. He and I will be wearing walking boots before the big game...only I don't have to play in the Super Bowl this Sunday and he does. See, life could be worse.

So, here's the pep talk script for tomorrow: "It will be over soon and you can look forward to a better spring/summer.  For $50,000 it's totally worth it!  And remember, at least the Patriots aren't counting on you to help win a Super Bowl."

Making Moves in 2012

2011 was another busy year. I took a new job and a new name; traveled to California, North Carolina, Chicago, and Turkey; I worried about my mom's health, planned a wedding, and finally got to see a show with male dancers (I'm not ashamed to admit this was a major life goal).

Sometimes the upcoming year looks blank and I fill it in as I go along, but at the start of 2012 I already foresee challenges and plans unraveling in front of me.

Maybe it's our age, maybe it's marriage, maybe it's mental instability--whatever the reason, Tommie and I feel like we're not quite in the right place to achieve our next life goals. Tommie wants a job that truly makes a difference locally, globally, or anyway. We want to make a comfortable living so we can start thinking about things like homeownership and foster care/adoption. 

I will always consider myself lucky to be able to call a place like this home, but because it is home it can also be too comfortable at times; it can be stunting; and it holds a lot of baggage. It is hard to say it, but home's role might be just that--a place that will keep our childhood sacred, a place we know like the back of our hands, and a place that loves us as much as it torments us.

We don't have a definite plan for 2012 yet; first comes fixing my foot and being there for my mom, then we will have to deal with the restlessness brewing inside us. It's hard for us to know what's right, and it's hard for our families to understand, but we've been in a holding pattern here, circling the same issues over and over. I think 2012 will be our year to reevaluate and make some moves.