Chinese New Year in San Diego

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Ian and I went to San Diego last month for an industry conference called Cal ABA. He got to attend presentations and meet with colleagues and strategize with his business partners. He got a bunch of CEUs taken care of too. It was a great trip and I had tons of fun. We did a little bit of sight-seeing in the evenings and we had a full day on Saturday to explore San Diego.

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It happened to be Lunar New Year and we stumbled upon this amazing celebration in the Chinese part of town. It was totally cool and it was the only time during the five days we were away that I really wished our boys were with us: They would have loved to see the lion dancers and the dragons, and all the people celebrating.

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San Diego is a beautiful town, and we explored on foot, for that’s our favorite way to see a city. We walked from the Gas Light district to the top of the hill and Balboa Park.

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We visited the Museum of Man and a traveling exhibit on Instruments of Torture, which sounded really cool at first but quickly overwhelmed me. Some history is more fascinating and palatable when it’s removed—which I suppose it always is since it’s history. But seeing the racks and saws and knuckle crushers and such up close and in person was a bit too much for my vivid imagination. I made it about two-thirds of the way through the exhibit and then left and waited for Ian outside. The purpose was to call attention to the fact that torture is not merely a thing of the past, and that the capacity of harming others is something that’s still within us. It’s up to individuals to choose not to engage in such practices, and to insist that the powers of the world do not.

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But then I got to meet C3-P0, and that made me feel better. He wasn’t very talkative, however. Balboa park is truly beautiful, and the buildings are highly ornamented. I liked this goddess wall in particular:

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And this ficus macrophylla tree, which was planted in 1915 and is 80 feet tall with a canopy width of 150 feet. Amazing!

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San Diego is gorgeous and I look forward to spending more time there someday. We had terrific meals with friends in the Gaslamp quarter and in the old town.

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Our hotel/convention center was kinda weird—like a place out of time. It seemed to have been frozen in 1964, and yet, it was more adorable than not. I wish the weather had been just slightly warmer so I could have sunbathed by one of the three pools.

A lovely trip all in all!

Seven Years Self-Employed

I’m so busy with work I almost didn’t notice, but sometime this week (August 22nd? 23rd?) marks the seventh anniversary (7th!) of my self-employment.

In August 2003, I left the best job I’ve ever had to stay home with my 1-year-old son, Lucas, because frankly I couldn’t hack leaving him with a nanny every day.

I think I made it all the way to the end of that generous, third “reintegration” month, working three days a week at the office and two days at home. That’s when I realized it’s not normal to cry every day you go to work. (During my morning commute, at my desk, in the bathroom, at lunch, on the way home.) Maybe a little at first—but after three months, it was starting to look less like a “difficult transition” and more like depression.

After a lot of soul searching and a hasty look at my bank account, I threw caution to the wind and quit that great job. It was the right decision for me and my son. It was the right decision for my mental health.

I left to go freelance with no freelance experience. No savings. No contacts. No babysitting. Not one tiny clue how to run a business. And it was seven years ago! Did I mention that part already?

I’ve had some really hard years. I’ve had a few spectacular years. I’ve had many, many late nights working and I’ve lost many weekends to my projects. I’ve had seasonal work with ultra-busy months and dreadfully slow months. I’ve had hundreds of days with my kids that I would not otherwise have had. I say yes to stinky projects sometimes. I am occasionally so busy I have to say no to gems.

I’m the boss. My own boss.

And while I may have a tendency to be nostalgic about those old office days, with old office friends and everything else that went with office life, I’m not sorry.

Because, when you factor in all the various pros and cons, tally all the tick marks, and weight it all up, I now have the best job I’ve ever had.

  • About Sara

    Thanks for visiting! I’m Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.

    Our children attend Waldorf school and we are enriching our home and family life with plenty of Waldorf-inspired festivals, crafts, and stories.

    © 2003–2018 Please do not use my photographs or text without my permission.

    “Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” —Ursula K. LeGuinn

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