********************* IF YOU ARE IN MY TRAINING CLASS, YOU SHOULD *NOT* BE READING THIS, YOU SHOULD BE LISTENING TO YOUR DELIGHTFUL TRAINERS, I.E., MOI. SO SHUT YOUR BROWSER AND PAY ATTENTION, OR ELSE I’LL MAKE YOU DESCRIBE THE URCHIN UTM PROCESS. THIS IS NOT AN IDLE THREAT.******************************

No? Not in my training class? You sure? Ok, then, enjoy below.

So I’m in London for the week, then back to California, where I seem to be spending most of my time these days. When I was there last week, I flew Miss Lila Belle out (since I’ll be there for a month), a journey that went surprisingly well. We had a lovely week in the Westin (they accept dogs these days, who knew?) and then, upon my departure, my Lila went to stay with her angelic puppy godparents, HJ & James. I was initially quite worried, since they had the gorgeous Pinot and since Lila has been known to be a bit persnickity with other dogs, but despite some initial "playtime" involving a lot of growling, running, and biting each other’s necks, it’s apparently going smoothly. (Then again, that could just be Helen Jane being the lovely gal she is and saying it’s going fine to nip my overactive worrying in the bud. But I digress.) Helen sent me some pics to document that really, it *IS* going ok out there in wine country, so without futher ado, here they are:

Gmail, my email of choice (as it should be for all of you), orders your contacts by how often you email them. So, if you find yourself emailing your Mom or sister or best friend a lot, voila! They’re added to the list of "Recent Contacts" so you don’t have to stray very far to send them an email. You know you’re in touch with someone quite a bit if you find them added to that list; the system does it automatically. It’s long been my secret way to see if I’m in lust or like or love – well, if I had ever been in love, I suppose I’d use this method just the same. Surely if I find myself sending many, many emails to a certain someone, I’ve had them on my mind, have been "talking" with them regularly, so alas, something is there. And yet this feature, which I find to be delightful in its simplicity, does have its shortcomings; how does someone get removed after it’s over?

Alas, when I look at my recent comments, remnants of relationships past maintain; i.e, right there at the top is my ex’s email address, my ex who I have NO desire to contact whatsoever, NO desire to continue to see when I head to my contacts. It’s reality giving you a nice slap in the face, reminding you that it’s over even though you’ve moved on and moved past and are even heading towards the "no hard feelings" sort of mindset (though you’re not there yet.) This little reminder of relationships past has been irking me for some time, so much that I was about to send a ticket to the Gmail engineers asking how I could remove aforementioned asshole (see? Not REALLY yet there for the ‘no hard feelings’) when it occurred to me – delete his address!

Magic.

Now if only I could delete the memories as well.

I’m back!

I’M BACK!!

Nearly two weeks w/my site down, you’d be surprised how much I’ve been having the website DT’s, which surprised me since my writing as of late has been somewhat uninspired. And yet, through my travels and all the changes and fabulous things that are happening, I’ve found myself to need this outlet more than I had expected, if only to post my thoughts for myself. So, after custom DNS-ing and updating and getting over the fact that I lost at least a few weeks of my posts (as uninspired as they may have been), with a sigh of relief, I’m back, and somewhat better than ever.

Pics, and posts, and ruminations, and jubilee, all to follow. Thanks for your patience – I’m glad YOU’RE back, too.

I don’t know what it is about traveling abroad that makes me so inclined to discuss what exactly I’m eating over here. I mean, it’s not like I’ve traveled to Mars; the food can’t be THAT different. And yet, with some strange prevailing force that beckons me to this discussion, from it I cannot stray.

First, let’s discuss the state of Chicken in the UK. Yesterday, we had something called Chicken Oysters, that has absolutely nothing to do with actual oysters, mind you, and are more pertaining to the underpart of a chicken. About the size of a chicken wing with the consistency of dark meat, I’m convinced that I ate at least one chicken buttcheek, an experience that is far from pleasant. A few bites into it I decided that Pret a Manger deserved my money more than my stomach deserved to consume poultry ass.

Then today, with the highest expectations, I again encountered the mysterious chicken; this time, it was a teensy little baby bird all tied up in twine, reminding me of my dissection days in AP Bio which nearly permanently sent me to vegetarianism. In fact, the thought of even delving into such a dish sent me to feign being a veggie, an action morally ‘illegal’ here in the UK office since they have a set number of vegetarian dishes per day. It was a decision I didn’t enter into lightly, though it offered very little relief – the quiche substitute was less than satisfying. Thus, lunch #2 in the UK was a mini Milky Way bar (only 16p!)

But alas, I’m enjoying my time over here, foodstuffs notwithstanding. In fact, the trite complaining I’m doing is ridiculous given the nature of my visit and the very tragedy that is happening in New Orleans & the surrounding areas. Whilst I have food aplenty, there are people dying, longing for fresh water and any source of nourishment. Shame on me for digressing to something this insensitive; and yet serves as a meager example of the way the world, despite the tragedy and the death and the anger at our President and the sorrow and the loss and the confusion, continues to go on. People go to work every day, leaving the harsh reality of Katrina’s aftermath by the mere click of a button as they turn off the television. The donations, while pouring in, will likely soon wane, and the hundreds of thousands of people displaced will still remain without their creature comforts as we soon continue with our lives.

And as insensitive as it is, people like me will write what they know, where they are, and what they’re experiencing, as a somewhat futile way to exorcise the omnipresent visions of despair that are so permeating the news, an attempt at self-preservation by way of ignorance, of distraction, of continuance. We won’t forget, mind you, and we won’t stop trying to help, but we will try and go on.

This past week, my phone stopped working.

So did my Blackberry.

So did my work phone, since they haven’t yet configured it to ring here in Cali.

And, to add insult to already ridiculously incommunicadoed injury, my website went down.

Oh yes, Aubrey was SO in the pre-technology era, and has only started to re-emerge.

The company that hosted my site (my old company, which was kind enough to have it hosted for free for the past 5 years) had their server blow up. I’m not sure if there was an actual explosion, mind you, but regardless, aubreysabala.com was no more. Thankfully, I had backed up my files at the end of June so only lost about a month or so of posts (most of which were whiny and quasi-pointless) so all in all, am not too heartbroken. Still, having no outlet to express myself took its toll…let’s just say my freelance editor thinks I need a bit of inspiration.

So, as you’ll come to see in the following weeks, changes are occuring. I’m seeking my inspiration, off to figure out what it is I should be doing as well as where I should be doing it. I’m here in Cali ’til tomorrow, then off to London for a week, then back here for a month. And oh -that’s only the beginning.

They say that today is the first day of the rest of your life, and you know what, for once, I agree.

I’m still in Maui, which means I **shouldn’t** be on the computer. But, we all know me, we all know that getting my pictures up here (just a few of the 312 I’ve taken thus far as a start) is important, so please, no lectures. I’m relaxing…I’m relaxing…I’m repeating this as my mantra. It’s sort of working.

I’ve bachelorette-partied. I’ve rehearsal dinnered. I’ve weddinged with the best wedding date I’ve ever, ever had. I’ve enjoyed a balcony. I’ve stayed up REALLY late. I’ve swam in the ocean before 8am. I’ve hiked on lava rock. I’ve snorkeled. I’ve sunned. Seriously, I’ve been busy in the past 5 days; the fact that I have another week to go continues to shock me.

So you’ll excuse me while I go and eat some guacamole, take a late-afternoon nap, and do – well – nothing. While I’m gone, click on the fabulous wedding with the fabulous sunset picture above to see a brief sampling of what I’ve been doing as of late.

Am in Phoenix with only one thing to say:

Dry heat, my ass.

If I were one of those people who could contain their excitement, I would definitely do so here. But really, we all know I’m not, nor ever will be, one of those folks. Instead, you’re stuck with the gal who does all she can NOT to write in all caps when she gets excited, tries to contain her gushing and raving and ebullience to a minimum when really, she’s just elated. Basically, I’m trying to contain myself, and I just can’t. So I apologize in advance for the following.

I’M GOING TO HAWAII!!! TODAY!! (Ok, I’m en route to Hawaii starting today, with a stop in Cleveland and Phoenix, but the travel officially begins today.) BUT YAY! HAWAII! WAHOO!

(See? Not really containing myself here…)

What really sent me over the edge to pure elation is the fact that my date for the wedding (thus the reason for the trip) is getting his cute Australian ass on a plane and MEETING ME IN MAUI! (I mean, really – how movie-script-esque!) So not only will I be in paradise, I’ll be in paradise with the best thing that Australia has created in, well, ever, and yes, I’m even putting him in comparison to the wine.

So I apologize if I don’t get to post very much, but know I’ll be living it up, getting fuel for the proverbial fire, and will write up a storm when I come back. Just don’t blame me if my eyes remain a bit starry…

An Open Letter to a Person who I No Longer Date,

Please, stop it. You were never that nice when we dated, so please stop being such a charmer when you turn up in my dreams. Never once in reality did you bring me flowers, so while the thought is nice, IT ISN’T REAL. Your dream-persona is making me forget that your real-persona is a complete and total jackass. So, going forward, if you **MUST** show up in some of my random dreams, please represent yourself accurately; i.e., the ass that you are.

Thanks for your prompt attention to this matter.
-Aubrey

An Open Letter to ANOTHER Person who I No Longer Date,

Please, don’t stop. You never kissed that well in reality, so even if my knees are getting weak only in my dreams, it’s well worth it. Keep up the good work, baby.

More please,
Aubrey