Guacamole and Popcorn

Mom, my sister, her son and I visited Dad in the hospital after having our Sunday “dinner,” which was actually lunch. Either way, I knew our visit would be long since Mom liked staying until Dad had his dinner around 5:30.

So, I packed my iPad to work on my digital illustrations while visiting with Dad. At 87, Dad takes multiple cat naps at the drop of a dime. He has never been much of a talker, which has been a great complement to Mom’s loquaciousness. Besides, there’s something lulling about a hospital room that induces sleep.

I was impressed how my nephew fell asleep, by lobbing his head backwards with a serious arc in his neck and shoulders while not falling over backwards. If I hadn’t witnessed the feat multiple times during our visit, I wouldn’t have believed that he had the flexibility to accomplish the pose.

After several hours ticked by, Dad finally received his dinner. Being a notoriously fast eater, I could have eaten up the entire tray in under 20 minutes.

Not Dad. He tantalizingly fed himself so slowly that I thought most of the food would slip off the fork before entering his mouth, which was why we encouraged him to use his spoon. Once his eating utensil finally arrived at its destination, Dad would then lay it to rest on his tray as he chewed.

Very good technique for anyone who’s trying to eat less. Yet, Mom and I encouraged Dad to pick up his spoon had continue eating. Periodically, he complained that he had to “rest.” As slowly as he ate, I was surprised that he felt taxed by the effort.

In the meantime, I was so hungry, I found myself watching Dad too intently. That slow arch of a food morsel lifted from his plate into his mouth. Although I’ve never been a sports fan, I redirected my eyes to watch the basketball game. March Madness helped distract me from temporary hunger madness.

Before we left the hospital, I requested that my sister make her famous ol’ fashioned popcorn on the stove. She was the only one out of us three sisters to inherit Mom’s love for cooking. As a matter of fact, I prefer to “cook” like my other older sister by ordering take out.

Mom also made a request: guacamole.

I immediately informed Mom that my request had come first. In actuality, my sister easily made both since neither one was a time-consuming process.

Just so happened, there were no good chips to pair with the guacamole. Of course, my nephew ate those stale potato chips with the dip. I, on the other hand, topped my bowl of popcorn with a dollop.

Absolutely delicious! How had I lived over half a century and not paired these two things before? Granted, chips are a better dip delivery system, but it’s not the only tasty one.

The guacamole didn’t quite bind the popcorn together like melted marshmallow-style popcorn balls, but that just helped to encourage me to eat slower, smaller bites and truly savor my food. The trick was to eat fast enough for the popcorn not to become soggy, but slow enough to enjoy.

I’m not exactly sure when I began “packing it in,” but I estimate over 30 years ago when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer. During that life chapter, I didn’t have to rush due to a time crunch. Upon reflection, I recognized that habit as a sign of depression. Even though I found healthier ways to deal with depression, for some reason, fast eating has remained with me.

I rationalize this habit during my 30-minute lunch break, stating that I don’t want to be late returning to work. Yet, when I had an hour-long lunch break, I ate just as fast. Even when not at work or when I’m not consciously thinking about it, I eat quickly. I’ve conditioned myself not to savor my food.

Sure, I acknowledge when something’s delicious. That edible pleasure hasn’t escaped me, regardless of my eating speed. Yet now, there’s always another thing to do. Whether it’s returning to work, or finishing laundry after Saturday morning breakfast, or working on some creative project.

I used to think that eating at a slower pace was a retirement habit. Now that I don’t think I’ll be in the position to retire, my next experiment will be to eat slower with less food on my plate. That way, I won’t feel the need to pack it in as quickly given whatever time frame I have. Also, 20 minutes has to pass before the brain registers that your no longer hungry.

Perhaps that science will help remedy my panicked eating…along with prioritizing savoring my food and “resting” like Dad does.

Buying Happiness: Animation Time

Whenever I receive a gift card or bonus, the first thing I brainstorm is how to use that money to improve/enhance/enjoy my life. I’m one of those rare people who believes that money CAN buy happiness–as long as you have the right set of priorities.

For years, I referred to myself as a one-woman production company. Many monetary gifts have gone toward podcasting, digital illustration, and filmmaking. Even though writing and performance are my strongest talents, I don’t shy away from all other aspects of embellishing my writing auditorily and visually, beyond costuming.

Two years ago, I attended a local film festival and spoke with one of the filmmakers whose project was an animation. I took notes, thinking “one day” I’d check it out and create something.

Amazing how quickly time passes when actively living. Last year, I visited Ghana, produced the longest podcast episode to date, and created a short film as a Christmas gift to my family. And those were just three creative/adventurous things among my usual juggle of activities.

I started off the new year contemplating whether I’d round up voice actors. Then, I wondered if I could save myself the “trouble” and do all the voices myself. Are there animation platforms that had a feature to alter one’s voice? What’s the least expensive way to do an animated project?

These questions and more all waiting to be discovered once I start researching them, bringing “one day” of doing an animated project even closer. Just as long as I don’t fall into that “analysis paralysis” trap.

That’s where one researches the hell out of something but never takes action beyond that. I’ve not been guilty of that for years. I usually fell into that trap with writing projects. I tend to run with other creative ideas outside of writing, especially if I buy something.

The next video opportunity will be recording 15 hours of me teaching yoga as part of my 200-hour yoga certification. The instructor stated that we could be as simple or complex as our video production skill set allows.

Challenge accepted.

Check Out the Tech

During my 2025 End-of-the-Year (EOY) review with both my former and current supervisors, the former gushed praises about me, stating how much she missed me and wanted me back. Since I’d only been with my new team for the last two weeks of December, the former supervisor had written the review.

One of the few times that my current supervisor spoke was to inform her, good naturedly, that he wouldn’t allow me to return to my former team.

Accolades aside, the meeting motivated me to start making moves on my new team. I’ve had a few months to get the lay of the land. Now’s a good time to explore stretch projects where I can use my math and/or editing skills for the team.

Additionally, my former supervisor reminded me of one of my 2025 goals: to land a pharmacy tech job. When asked about that goal, I admitted that when I get a new position, I pour my energy into that opportunity. I quickly added that I’d completed two continuing education courses to maintain my pharmacy tech certification.

Then, I shared my newest academic pursuit: a 500-hour yoga certification online course. If we’d had more time to indulge, I would have told them about how I’d already read several of the books, taking extensive notes because I didn’t want to spend money on books nor add to the volume of material things I possess.

Instead, we kept the conversation about my 2025 successes, resulting in an above average rating, along with the corresponding pay bump and bonus. I surprised my former supervisor when I stated that this was the first time achieving that recognition. I briefly explained that I’d started working in 2021, so I had to first navigate through a global pandemic before thriving at work.

The following week, I had my monthly one-on-one check-in meeting with my current supervisor. When I mentioned possibile stretch projects, involving math and/or editing, he stated nothing was available. Yet he said that he’d keep me in mind if any Resolutions or Assist Line openings became available since that would increase both my talent and compensation.

When I mentioned adding pharmacy tech jobs to the list, he hesitated. He explained that those positions would be a lateral move. I confirmed that when I interviewed for a new position, I’d also expect more compensation.

For some reason, I thought being a certified pharmacy tech automatically meant that I’d get a compensation bump. Goes to show that I’m still thinking like a teacher, where attaining more education went hand in hand with a pay bump.

As a matter of fact, I was going to bite the bullet and apply to a pharmacy tech job that involved working some weekends. Now that’s off the table if no more money’s involved.

Granted one can have the certification without having the title reflected in one’s job title. Looks like that’s the route I’m destined to go. I’m just not sure if I want to increase my rate of irate callers.

What Light?

We thought we’d be funny by placing a novelty drink light into Dad’s water glass. Mom and I kept prompting him to comment about it. My nephew giggled in anticipation. Watch how Dad handled the situation.

When I showed Dad the video, I told him that we kept referring to his water glass because we wanted him to talk about was in it. He said, “Well, it sure wasn’t egg nog.”

99 Cents to Go

I always dread filing taxes even though I’m single with no dependents, no property and everything is pretty much straight forward with the help of an online service. Nonetheless, I like doing the deed on a Sunday morning after breakfast, before my morning hot yoga class. Sounds extremely specific, to the point of ritual, but at least I get it done.

This time around, took me a record 38 minutes to complete, thanks to my W-2 preloading and last year’s return information conveniently loading.

As unimpressed as I’ve been by the federal government lately, they put a few more coins in my pocket. Not going into specifics just in case the kleptocrats want that pittance back. As my middle school principal once said, “Some people will steal the pennies off a dead man’s eyes.”

Up next, state taxes. Fourteen years of living in Texas spoiled me. Never had to pay state tax in the Lone Star State. Since relocating to NC, I’ve been underwhelmed by my state returns, but the 2025 refund took the cake: $1. That’s right, no zeroes after the one. Cannot even put an “s” at the end of “dollar.”

Of course, I’m grateful that I didn’t owe money, but the result motivated me to undertake a new 2026 challenge: find more than a $1 just going about my life. Should be easy since I normally watch where I’m walking.

As a matter of fact, since I found a penny at the laundromat the day before filing taxes, I’ve got 99 cents to go. Marked it on my calendar. Who knows how many pennies I’ll find now that they’re no longer being made and may actually be worth far more. Not the point.

I want to prove that Fate will put more money in my pocket than the great state of North Carolina. Let the games begin!

2nd Annual Galentine’s Indoor Skydiving

For the second year in a row, I hosted a Galentine’s Day indoor skydiving excursion. I sported a “Boss” T-shirt for the occasion to dispel any doubt who was in charge. Kidding. Not really.

I joked with the one friend who hadn’t ever flown before that she had to go first. To my surprise, she was game. We ended up flying from youngest to oldest, which still put her first. By that same logic, I went last, which was fine by me since I believe, as the host, guests should go first.

For the first time ever, I entered the wind chamber without any nervousness. Even our instructor commented on how relaxed I was during my flying time. Thank goodness my sister was there to take pictures and videos. I had no sense of how high I’d flown on my own.

This time of year, there’s an indoor flying competition; so several teams were present. We shared our flight time with a team who practiced different configurations in between our flights. At least two of the competitors looked older than me. If I ever get an opportunity to retire, I’ll add this sport to my routine. (How I wish there was a word with more pizzazz than “routine” or “hobby” to describe something one enjoys doing on a regular basis.)

The moment I had been waiting for, the second flight to go to the highest level. The only way the experience could have been more thrilling was to do tricks, which may occur in the future when I have more time and money.

As a matter of fact, while we waited to have our preflight safety class, there was a lone flyer who worked on technique one-on-one with an instructor. That’s truly the way to do it. As for now, I cannot afford to drop a few hundred dollars for ten minutes of instruction.

I enjoy getting together with friends once a year to fly. And my sister, who’s only flown once and crossed it off her bucket list, mainly looked forward to the post flight lunch. She recommended a nearby Peruvian place, which was delicious.

There’s something about completing a fun group activity that makes delicious food taste even better. The conversation flew around as animatedly as we’d each flown, making the whole experience one of the best Valentine’s days I’ve had.

Snowcream & Brownies

After being out of school, both as a student and a teacher, I don’t wish for snow. I already work from home; so I don’t get snow days. What I get is snowed in, which means that after a long day at work, I don’t get the mental and physical salvation of exercising with other like-minded people.

As a matter of fact, the biggest treat this time around was Mom making snowcream. Never use the first-fallen snow, which conventional wisdom says is full of air pollution, nor the yellow snow. The best quality is the last-fallen fluffy snow.

Since we had plenty of precipitation forewarning, Mom made sure she had the ingredients to make snowcream: vanilla extract, sugar, and sweetened condensed milk. All she needed me to do was gather the final ingredient.

She actually thought I was going to get snow off the patio table…and risk a slip and fall going down those patio steps?! Instead I remained on level ground while carefully padding out to lob two humongous scoops of snow off the hood of her car, which was more than enough.

Mom whipped up that delicious dessert like a pro. Although we don’t often get snow like this, it’s wonderful to commemorate the rare snowfall with an edible, seasonal ingredient.

Don’t let the container fool you. No Cool Whip was used in the making of snowcream. Just a reminder of the ubiquitous plastic containers that we repurpose for just such occasion.

I paired my snowcream with a brownie and Malbec. Malbec with chocolate is my long time favorite dessert, especially dark chocolate. The brownie and snowcream went well together, but I cannot really say that Malbec and ice cream can ever be a good pairing.

There’s a reason one doesn’t normally pair ice cream with wine. Nonetheless, I took one for the team.

Ya’ll Look Like Amazons

Whenever I receive a gift card, I always use it to support one of my hobbies. In this case, one purchase supported two interests: pole dancing and swimming.

I used the latest Christmas gift card to pay for half of a stylish two-piece swimsuit. I’ve worn other two-pieces to pole class before, but I’ve never worn something off the shoulder, which I was sure would work well on the pole.

As soon as we finished our warm up, I removed the outer layer of clothing to reveal my new “pole outfit.” Another student yelled across the room that she loved what I was wearing. At the end of class, I invited my spin pole instructor to join me for a picture.

When I shared the pictures with my sisters, one remarked that we looked cute. The other said, “Ya’ll look like Amazons.”

When I was a child, I wanted to be an Amazon a la Wonder Woman. Strong, beautiful and smart. This may be the closest I can come to that.

The following week, I tested out swimming in the new suit. To my surprise, I didn’t fight with the top while lap swimming, especially when I swam the butterfly. I feared that my left breast would fly out. No wardrobe malfunction on the inaugural swim.

The ultimate test was wearing it to the other pole dance class: Introduction to Inverts. Sure, I fidgeted a little with the top during the warm up, but once I got into the thick of practicing upside-down maneuvers on the pole, I forgot all about my attire. My energy went into executing the maneuvers. Happy to report that even through that strenuous exercise, everything held up and tucked in.

I hardly ever buy clothes, but every now and then, I enjoy working out in fun workout clothes.

How Abundance Works

When I brainstormed about what to gift my family for Christmas, my answer combined my filmmaking aspirations with sound bath healing. This was my fourth year in a row to observe non-materialistic Christmas gift-giving.

“Abundance” featured in the film. The more I meditated, I realized that every situation could be reframed with abundance in mind. For example, one of my favorite gifts to myself, especially during the holiday season, is an abundance of unscheduled time whenever I take paid leave from work.

Apparently, this time around, I took too much paid time off. Weeks after the fact, I learned that paid time off (PTO) taken in 2025 wouldn’t be covered by accrued PTO in 2026. At least I benefited from a wonderful Christmas-Kwanzaa break with the luxury of time.

I started the new year off with a smaller paycheck than usual. The exact opposite of financial abundance. Yet, I reframed that experience to “I paid for my latest staycation.” Besides, with my new position, I had to work on MLK Day. A situation that helped recoup some of the money I’d lost since working holidays have a pay rate of two and a half times.

Another instance of abundance occurred when I discovered that I had to record 15 hours of me teaching yoga as part of the 200-hour yoga instructor certification, starting in mid-February. Our house was still under renovation, but even before that, I didn’t have a distraction-free area to record my instruction.

Much to my annoyance, I had to reach out to other people. Yet, I received an abundance of support. The first was from the yoga teacher who’d sent me the link to sign up for the course. The second was from my stretch and flex teacher who also owned a hair salon where we could set up and practice. Finally, my pole dancing teacher, who also owned the studio, agreed to let me use the auxiliary room on Sundays when no classes were scheduled.

All I had to do was ask.

Then, without asking, my car insurance inexplicably decreased by $50 for six months’ coverage. Plus, I’d forgotten that after being at my gym for three years that I’d be able to pay a flat annual fee, saving me over $500 a year.

I’d been raised to count my blessings. As an adult, I’m thankful that I’ve learned the lesson of how abundance interacts with those blessings. Blessings are the wonderful things in your life. Being aware of abundance in these situations is to be mindful that those wonderful things are enough.

Sticky Residue

I attended a social event where we had name tags. Never thought such a good idea could go sideways. After all, how memorable are most people that you catch their names the first time around? The convenience of name tags is golden.

Until it isn’t.

At the end of the event, I pulled off my name tag and placed it on my to-go box. As I reminded everyone else near me to remove their name tags, one friend became intrigued with a mildly funny idea: sneak her name tag on some unsuspecting person while patting them on the back.

I witnessed her workshop the idea out loud as we exited the venue. Unfortunately, she chose me as her mark. Despite my batting her hand away and protests, she wouldn’t let it go until we were out in the parking lot.

As I reached the driver’s side of my car, she passed on the passenger’s side with a mischievous expression on her face.

Did that bitch just put her name tag on my paint job?

She sure in the hell had.

Usually, I mitigate my temper, but I retaliated by ripping her name tag off my car and sticking it on her back window since she had conveniently parked in the row behind me.

My mind churned as I drove home: 1) What grown-ass person does that; 2) how the hell could I remove the remains of the name tag; and 3) why was I THAT mad about the whole incident?

Once home, I dampened a paper towel to remove the stuck-on paper, but the clear glue remained. At least it no longer looked like a bird had shat on my car. Mom suggested using cooking oil to remove the rest. Yet, I felt as if I’d already spent too much energy on that dumb shit.

Afterall, I’d bought my car brand new in 2009 and that 17-year-old paint job showed its age. Unless I pointed out the name tag residue, one would have challenging time finding it.

Nonetheless, I don’t want to drive a junk-mobile. For someone who hardly ever gets her car washed, it’s relatively clean, especially on the inside since I don’t drive around with clutter.

That name tag prank pierced at the heart of my money anxieties. I’d bought my car when relocating to the States after eight years of teaching internationally. Back then I had a significant savings. In 17 years, I’m no longer a full-time teacher, living on my own nor making enough money for a true savings.

I live with my parents, so my “savings” are the result of not having to pay rent. I’ve never been a spendthrift. Yet, those evil twins, wage stagnation and rising inflation, continue to bite my salary in the ass.

Don’t even get me started on being underemployed based on my education and experience. People with more lucrative jobs have less job security than I do. At least complex customer service cannot be easily replaced by AI right now.

Since the COVID shutdown, I’ve floundered financially. Although I’ve made the best of my work situation, every internal move I’ve made at work has been lateral. Any interesting work that comes with a pay bump has been attached to working evenings and/or weekends.

The only things that have helped keep me sane have been exercise classes that I take after work. Those are definitely worth the investment for my well-being. As much as I enjoy working from home, I still need interaction with other people in real life.

Once my flared temper dissipated, I messaged her about the incident. Hours later, she acknowledged her actions and offered a sincere apology.

That residue will probably be a permanent part of the car. At least it’s no longer a trigger.