Mother of All Missions

Last weekend Rene and I resumed our goal of visiting all 21 California missions. So far we had visited four: Santa Barbara (which we will need to revisit because we didn't go inside the church nor the grounds inside the compound), San Juan Capistrano, San Gabriel, and San Luis Obispo. This weekend we visited our fifth mission: San Diego de Alcala, California's first church and also known as the Mother of the Missions.

This was our second attempt at visiting Mission San Diego. We tried to visit back in August but were literally stopped by traffic. During our first attempt, we ended up exiting the freeway after being on the road for over four hours. At that point, we weren't even close to San Diego – crazy huh? Luckily, the exit we took was near San Juan Capistrano, which also had a mission. So we visited that mission instead. This time, armed with the knowledge that traffic sucks on the 5, Rene and I found an alternate (hello Highway 15!) and made it to San Diego in two hours. Woo hoo!

When we arrived at the mission the mood was festive. There was a Mariachi band playing music for people gathered around the front entrance; they were probably hired for an earlier wedding. We watched people dance for a little bit then decided to explore the mission.

We went to visit the church first because another wedding was starting shortly. The church layout was simple and elegant: white walls, dark wooden benches, and painted ceiling beams. What I like most about the California missions are the altars; this one was made of wood and was painted with green, gold, and coral. This altar was made in California, but some were carried over from the Old World, which is amazing when you take into account how many thousands of miles they had to haul that thing after crossing the Atlantic Ocean. I also liked the pulpit, which had a yellow/red fabric suspended on top of it like a roof.

We didn't stay inside the church too long, only long enough to pay our respects and take a few pictures. Also, preparations were underway for the next wedding and we didn’t want to be in the way.

The mission courtyard to the right of the church was pretty small. It had some nice trees, a birdbath and a shrine to JC. In the back there was a statue depicting the Virgin Mary and Jesus (I think these are universally called Pieta, like the famous one by Michelangelo in Rome) and directly opposite a depiction of the 13 Stations of the Cross.

Also to the right of the church is the mission’s religious education center. Unlike the mission with its curved arches and asymmetrical structure, this building was essentially a white box with nice shutters. It actually looked like a house with a nice brick trail leading up to it. I want my next house to have a brick path and a big magnolia tree in front of it just like this one.

To the left of the church was a large fountain and the parking lot. The parking lot took most of the space, actually, so there wasn’t much to see there. Supposedly a priest named Father Jaime was buried within the mission grounds but we didn’t see his grave anywhere. Back in the 1770s the local Indians raided the mission and Father Jaime was killed in the altercation. Unlike the San Gabriel mission, the graves here were out of sight.

Overall, the mission was picturesque but small. It was nice to visit the Mother of the Missions.

Japanese Workout Video

Japanese people are such clever multi-taskers. They learn English and work out at the same time. Brilliant!

The Genesis of Chuy

Dear Internet,

Have I ever told you the story of how I came to own this dog?

Hippie Dog

76 bottles of beer on the wall...

Let me start from the beginning. When Rene bought a house with his mom and brother many years ago, some repairs needed to be made to the house. Most were minor, and a few were major. The most major of these repairs was replacing the piping - the existing pipes were 30 years old and clogged, and the water pressure was getting low. The pipes were replaced with copper piping by a plumber named Jay. A few months later, another thing needed to be replaced (hey they don't call it the money pit for nothing), and this time it was the water heater.

Also around the time they moved in, Rene's brother Henry bought a puppy. His name was Spanky and he was a rottweiler. Henry felt that they needed a dog to protect the house since the backyard was accessible from the alley, and shady characters often hang out in alleys. Spanky, for the most part, was an obedient dog and a good guard dog. The only problem with Spanky, Rene felt, was that Henry did not really take care of him. And by take care, I mean pick up his poop. It was all over the backyard and was driving Rene nuts.

Enter Jay the plumber and the matter of the water heater. On the day that Jay came by to do the estimate ($200 plus labor), he complimented Spanky and said what a nice dog it was. In fact, he even said, "I'll give you the water heater for free if you give me the dog." Ding! A light went off in Rene's head, and before you knew it, Jay left the house with a brand new rottweiler puppy. Rene got a free water heater. Everyone's happy with their deal, right? WRONG! Everyone except Henry, who owned the dog, and was livid after he found out. He was really PISSED.

A few weeks later Henry brought home a new puppy, this time a pit bull named Doja. She was small but terrible. She was a mean little thing and bit anything you put in front of her face. Luckily for us, she was only a puppy but we were worried how this behavior would translate to adulthood; who wants to be bitten by an adult female pitbull? Anyhow, even though Rene did not like Doja he couldn't find it in his heart to get rid of the dog, seeing how Henry reacted the last time he pulled that stunt. Instead, he hoped that this mean little dog would grow into a well-behaved adult. Unfortunately, we never got to find out because two weeks later, someone stole Doja from the backyard. Damn those shady characters hanging out in the alley! (Rene later corrected this version of events: Doja got out from the yard and never came back. She was not stolen; someone must have taken her in after finding her.)

A few months later, guess what? Henry came home with another dog. And this time the dog was a furry red chow chow. He was really cute.

Chuy and Princess (left) circa 2002

I happened to come up with the perfect name for the dog: Chewbacca, since he looked like a wookie from Star Wars. It was shortened to Chewy sometime later, which Henry spelled X-U-I W-E-I on account of his Chinese ancestry. I spelled it C-H-U-Y because that's the way I like the name spelled.

(Coincidentally, Chuy is the nickname given to some Mexican men named Jesus, and the only reason we know this is because one time our vet asked if our dog's real name was Jesus. It was hilarious. Sometimes we call the dog Jesus Canizales.)

Chuy lived with Henry for his first three years, and acted as a furry security alarm. Basically, he was a guard dog that stayed outside to protect the house when no one was home. Because Chuy was outside a lot of the time, and because they had moved away to Palmdale soon after he became part of the family, Chuy was lonely. And he didn't interact a lot with people so he had poor manners. I was not a member of the Chuy Canizales fan club at this time.

Then Henry moved into an apartment complex. Since the complex did not allow dogs, we offered to take Chuy in so that our dog Princess (bless her soul) could have a friend. This was back in 2004.

I'll be honest: at first I didn't like Chuy. Even though he was cute, his fur was matted and dirty. He smelled. He didn't socialize with people much so he lunged at guests. He tugged really hard at his leash whenever we took a walk and dragged me along. He didn't know how to communicate potty breaks so one time he pooped over our hall carpet. The SMELL woke me up at 2 a.m. and I didn't finish cleaning the carpet until 6 a.m. And to top it off, he was always trying to hump Princess, who was having none of it and had to beat him off daily. Surely, this dog was a temporary guest in our home.

Little by little this furry thing started to win me over. At first it was the little things: he would stare at me when I was watching TV, trying to get my attention (puppy dog eyes - who could resist?). He would come sit next to me at home. He would rub up next to me, begging to be petted whenever he got a chance. As time went by, I fell in love with the dog. His little idiosyncrasies became funny, and his personality started to shine through. The more time I spent with Chuy, the more I liked him, and I finally asked Henry to let us have him sometime in 2005. He's my dog now.

Chuy was a wonderful addition to our little family. We already had Princess, who was a terrific dog, and now she had company during the day. He adored Princess; sometimes I wonder if he remembers her being a part of his life.

Now that we have moved back into my parent's house, Chuy has a new set of friends to make. When he first got here he was wary of these people because he didn't spend much time with them before; now he's making friends with everyone. Chuy is the first to greet my mom at the door at night. When my dad watches TV, Chuy scoots his butt near his hand so that my dad can pet him. My brother has forgiven Chuy for biting his jacket sleeve and now refers to him as "Louie." My sister loves having him around and walks him when she can. Even my niece Sabrina is warming up to him, slowly but surely. At first she didn't even want him in the house, now she cops a feel every once in a while.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Chuy never came into my life, and it makes me sad. He gives me so much without asking for anything in return, and makes me look forward to coming home every day. What more can I ask for in a friend?

Playing Catch-Up

This past Sunday I met up with two of my girlfriends from BDO for lunch. Too bad I did not take pictures because it would have been a great addition to my photo library. And they were looking good too!

We talked for three and a half hours on Sunday - just catching up on what's been going on in our lives and what each of us was up to. Time flew, and before we knew it, it was time to go. This reminded me that I should make a concious effort to keep up with friends, especially those I have not seen in a while. Friendship requires a certain amount of effort, and those friends worth keeping are definitely worth it.

I am planning on seeing more people from BDO in the coming weeks. Even though I no longer work there, I met some great people at BDO, and I am forever thankful for my time there.

I know that I promised to update my site... truthfully I've been too tired at the end of the day to work on a post since my recent move; I've been organizing and cleaning up after work. Hopefully next week I will have something interesting to report. I think it's time to get out of the house!

In the meantime, my next post will be pictures and memories of my visit to Madrid, Spain earlier this year. Ah, Spain...

New Design

Did you know my favorite color is pink? You probably wouldn't have guessed it from looking at this site, huh?

What do you think? I needed to make some changes - I was tired of that dark color! And doesn't this re-designed site look so much friendlier? It's the all new Speedy Canizales!

I promise to post something soon - I have been busy with the site changes this week. This blog thing is pretty technical, and I am definitely learning something new everyday.

Re-designing this site makes me feel so accomplished, almost... geeky. Maybe this time next year I might be wearing pocket protectors and using tape to hold my glasses together, Steve Urkel-style! Or maybe even playing a little Dungeons & Dragons... hmmm...

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

This past weekend my hair was bothering me. It wasn't because my hair was doing something weird like forming a hideous cowlick with my bangs or getting in my face, or even because the split ends were starting to look ragged. My hair was bothering me because my highlights were growing out, and I was too cheap to go back to my stylist to change it back to my natural color.

To recap, last week my hair color looked like this:

See how happy I look, how much I like my hair color? Unfortunately it was meant only for the summer, as keeping it this color costs me an arm and a leg. So this past Sunday I decided to take matters into my own hands by purchasing a box of midnight black Clairol Nice N' Easy (with no ammonia) and enlisting the help of my mom to go back to my roots. The result is this:

At first I thought, huh, it's a little too black ; I look like a goth girl but it will fade out. I was feeling good with about my decision until a co-worker said on Monday, "you changed your hair color - and it's...DARK." This comment made me feel like it was a very bad decision, and that perhaps I was correct in thinking that I did look goth. Yes, ME - a goth girl. Were Amy Lee of Evanescence and I separated at birth? You decide.

On second thought maybe I should've posed with a ripped tank top so you could see the similarities.

Half Dome, or How I discovered that Yosemite should really be named "Park with a Million Stairs"

Despite being a little bit sore from our hike the day before and not getting very much sleep on account of the noisiest neighbors in the world, Rene and I got up bright and early Sunday morning, 6 am to be exact, to begin our adventure! We are going to the top of Half Dome, damn it, and nothing is going to stop us! That trail is toast! 17 miles is nothing! Lack of sleep will make you feel giddy for no reason at all!

So when you get up that early a few things happen: (a) you are gung-ho and giddy for no reason at all, (b) you only do the absolutely necessary things, like put on your contacts and brush your teeth (screw the makeup bit! I look awesome!), (c) your hair sucks and you won’t care, (d) even though food is an important part of your day you will agree to only have two power bars to eat because you don’t want to carry any more extra crap in your backpack, and (e) shyness and decorum in a public toilet disappears. We got ready in 30 minutes and were walking the trail to Happy Isles to start our hike by 6:30 am.

So it turns out that the trailhead for Half Dome does not start until about a mile from Happy Isle, and due to the lack of signage Rene and I ended up taking the stock trail (horse trail) to the trail head. After about 20 minutes we felt like we were a lost because no one else was around except for a group of Japanese people up front, and why was there horse manure all over the place? Since we knew we had to go up, and the starting point was Happy Isle, we soldiered on and hoped for the best. After 20 more minutes we were at the trailhead to Half Dome, yay! The hike officially begins!

There are actually two ways to get to Half Dome: one way is to go through the Mist Trail and Vernal Falls, which is the shorter of the two but steeper (read: granite stairway for about a mile uphill), and the other way (the route we took) was to go through the Nevada Falls trail. The Nevada Falls trail was approximately one mile longer but not as steep, and although the terrain is still uphill the ground is packed dirt, which is easier on the knees. Rene and I had agreed to take a break once per hour, lasting from 10-15 minutes, so that we could make it to the top by the middle of the day. Our first break would last 15-30 minutes though because we were going to have breakfast and admire Nevada Falls.

After hiking two plus miles uphill we were rewarded with a great view of Nevada Falls, and we took our longest break of the day. We ate our power bars while looking at the waterfall then made our way to the lookout point about half a mile away. We stopped for a few minutes to take pictures and admire the view. Yosemite is breathtaking. It’s still a little cold up in the mountains but the sun is up and warm on your back, and you can see the rays spreading throughout the valley full of cedar and pine trees. It was nice to take a moment and marvel at the beauty of Yosemite. I hope that many more generations after me will enjoy the same view.

I wished I could marvel at the view all day, but as it was we needed to get back on the trail to make it to our destination. We spotted a mama dear and her baby crossing the trail soon after Nevada Falls and snapped a picture with them in the background. What’s unfortunate about that picture is that I looked crazy with my hat turned up and a stupid smile on my face. Rene had to take the picture quickly and I didn’t have time to react – that’s my excuse! But isn’t the little baby cute? Awww! You can barely make them out but they're on the right side of the picture, near the boulder in the back.

The next three hours I will gloss over – it was all about hiking hiking hiking. Sometimes we were hiking a nice flat shaded area, and other times I thought I was going to need an ambulance. Actually, I only bonked once during a steep switchback because my backpack was beginning to get heavy and I need a break. I think it had to do with the altitude and being tired, because you ascend almost 5,000 feet on your way up to Half Dome. Before we took a break I was taking deep breaths (but still breathing hard like a crazy stalker) and was moving so SLOW. And I was really hungry. Rene relented and gave me a ten minute break, took my backpack (which really didn’t have a lot in there, just some water, a sweater, sunblock, and a power bar but it seemed to weigh a ton), and we were jamming from there. We didn’t stop until we reached the beginning of the last two stages: the really steep stairs and the cables.

Before we ascended the really steep stairs we took a 20-minute break and ate our lunch, another power bar. We sat on this gigantic log and kept having to shoo away these crazy squirrels. No matter how much we yelled or stamped our feet or threw pebbles at them they kept coming back. They are probably accustomed to tourists feeding them, thus taking away their fear of humans. I normally don’t mind squirrels but I am used to having them keep their distance. I used to have a dog called Squirrel Master (Princess). Princess, er Squirrel Master, really, really hated squirrels, and back when we used to have a yard she would spend the whole day plotting a way to get those damned rats with cool outfits. She would literally sit under a tree and watch them, then pounce and go after them if they ever set foot in our yard. Those squirrels were marked for death! I miss my girl Princess and hope she was watching us from above, probably freaking out about those damn squirrels bothering Rene and I.

After our break, we took a deep breath and ascended the stairs. Now these stairs are made from a white granite-y material and are carved into the mountain. They are steep, and there are no railings to hold on to. Oh, and you have to share the stairs with other people going up and down, thus making it a wee bit dangerous for those who are inattentive or are afraid of heights. When you climb these stairs, make sure you are paying attention to not only what you are stepping on but also who is in front of you and behind you. The stairs are not very wide and sometimes you have to give way to others, especially if they are old Japanese people with ski poles practically breathing down your neck. Show-offs! Rene and I took a break going up the stairs even though our hour wasn’t up because I was getting tired and there was only one lick of shade on the way up to the cables, which is where we decide to stop. At some point the stairs end but you are not yet at the top of the hill – you have to climb up the hill itself to get to the cables.

Side note: If you are planning to go on this hike, make sure your shoes have adequate grip. I’m not saying to go out there and buy yourself a new pair of hiking shoes (I used a pair of trail running shoes myself), but make sure you can comfortably climb on rocks with the shoes you will be wearing. This means no basketball shoes, tennis shoes, Doc Martens, deck shoes, etc. Wearing these shoes will make you slip and put the fear of falling in you. When you are scaling the stairs and cables and don’t have enough grip in your shoe, you will force people to wait behind you and that will suck. Especially when climbing down the cables.

About the cables – man it looked bad. It looked scary, and not very secure, and tiring. Cables all the way up there! FOR REAL?! Climb up that thing! Do I look like I have a death wish?! Deep breaths, deep breaths, keep it together… After looking at the cables for a few minutes and thinking about how far I’d already gone I took the plunge and did it. JUST DO IT – if the old lady can do it so can you! Once I got on the cable I realized that it looked scarier than it was (but make sure to bring gloves for grip). Once you are on the cables it is not so bad – put all your focus on climbing up and the person in front of you. The steel poles that connect the cables are surprisingly sturdy. When stopping during your ascent try to stop by the poles and use the wooden planks placed between them as a ledge; it will help you rest your legs and arms. Most importantly, use only one side of the cables! Do not try to climb up using both cables – one is meant for people going up and one is meant for people doing down. Using both cables means screwing up both directions (and people will hate you and possibly push you down the mountain – just kidding! But really they will hate you so don’t do that) and in my opinion is not very safe. Also, when you are climbing up observe the people climbing down so you can start thinking about the best way to descend. And it is NOT by using both cables, ever, I will pretend not to know you and curse you along with the others if you do this. You will be dead to me.

See how easy it is? Just one step at a time...

After all that, we made it to the top! Yay! Happy happy joy joy happy happy joy! And you know what? The view was AWESOME! I think the pictures speak for themselves:

Rene and I stayed at the summit for an hour and took a little nap under a rock. We woke up feeling refreshed and ready for our descent.

So only one word sums up our descent – LONG. It took us an hour and a half to get down from the summit because some idiot decided to use both sides for the cable to descend. It caused a huge backlog and made everyone really, really mad. I understand that people have physical limitations and have to do things their way, I do, but making a line of people wait for an hour and a half while holding on to a steel cable is really not the right time to have this handicap. After we got down from the cables we were seriously tempted to tell him off or give him a hard shove but figured he already got some choice words from the people behind him. Whoever he is, I hope he learned his lesson! And the lesson is (everyone say it): DON’T USE BOTH SIDES OF THE CABLE! And face the mountain when descending!

Rene and I jammed on the way down – it was all downhill from there and we only stopped to chillax (chill + relax = chillax) by a creek and dip our toes in the water. Ah, it was a very refreshing 30 minute rest.

The part where we went wrong was when faced with the decision of going down through Vernal Falls or Nevada Falls – since we ascended through Nevada Falls, why not descend down Vernal and see another waterfall on the way down? Big mistake! So you know how going down stairs is hard on your knees? These stairs down to Vernal Falls killed ours. By the time we got to Vernal Falls we must have climbed down a million stairs (that’s what my knees told me and I’m sticking to it) and were really tired. Plus, it was beginning to get dark. We didn’t spend much time admiring the falls on account of darkness heading our way, not to mention those damn stairs. By the time we made it to the bus stop at Happy Isle it was full-on night fall. It was 8:30 pm folks, and we hiked for 14 hours.

Just to spice up our evening a black bear crossed the street and started checking out the trash cans by the bus stop. At first we thought it was a cute little bear but after shining a light on that thing we realized it was an adult bear trying to get some food. The people at the bus stop all banded together and were trying to make a lot of noise when the bus came. Oh the bus – I have never been happier to see the bus! Bus to the rescue!

What happened next was a blur. I think we ate pizza then crashed until morning. Actually I take that back – we slept when our neighbors would pipe down and let us, which didn’t make for many hours of sleep.

The next day we had breakfast with Erin and Jeff at the world famous Awahnee hotel, where they prepared individual omelets for us. We had delicious food, albeit not the Sunday brunch (apparently that only happens on, ahem, Sunday). Afterwards, when we were all stuffed we headed back home. On the road again, and back to life.