Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Training... Or Lack Thereof
I guess this would be week 2 of my "training" for the half marathonand I'm officially panicked. I'm doing the most basic requirements of running (twice a week for 30-45 minutes) and missed the first long run with the group on Sunday since I was in Phoenix. Last night I ran and today I feel like I got hit by a truck. EVERYTHING ACHES. And I barely covered 2.7 miles in 35 minutes. How the hell will I finish before all the cars are let back onto the streets of downtown?!!
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Daylight Savings
Just got back a while ago from a weekend in Phoenix, where for some reason, they don't celebrate daylight savings. Instead, while the rest of the world "falls back" an hour every October, Arizona simply switches from Pacific Standard time to Mountain Standard time.
Though it's one of the fastest growing cities, and far from the sleepy and culturally homogeneous town I spent my childhood in, there's still quite a bit of mid west in Phoenix.
Yes, that's a gun shop with a teddy bear and guns sign.
I missed out on my extra hour of sleep last night. I'm trying to trick myself into sleeping early tonight. Odd, I know but I will just putter about, reading, watching TV, writing until it seems too late to be awake. And I am exhausted from the fun weekend.
Though it's one of the fastest growing cities, and far from the sleepy and culturally homogeneous town I spent my childhood in, there's still quite a bit of mid west in Phoenix.
Yes, that's a gun shop with a teddy bear and guns sign.
I missed out on my extra hour of sleep last night. I'm trying to trick myself into sleeping early tonight. Odd, I know but I will just putter about, reading, watching TV, writing until it seems too late to be awake. And I am exhausted from the fun weekend.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Mornings = Bad
As daunting as 13.1 miles of running is, I'm actually more concerned with getting up at the crack of dawn to do it. I had to wake up around 6:45 am this week for a Dr's appointment and when I awoke to my alarm beeping in the cold darkness and convinced myself out of bed, I wanted to throw up and die.
I'm not exaggerating. Every time I have to get up before the sun's out, I want to throw up and die. I haven't had to do it much because I tend to avoid early morning activities. I resent people and things, at least for the first hour or so, when they make me get up early. All the friends know not to even bother trying to call me before 10 on the weekends (that's already better in recent years. It used to be noon) And having a coherent conversation with me? Forget it. It's going to be interesting come December 3rd for the half marathon...
I'm not exaggerating. Every time I have to get up before the sun's out, I want to throw up and die. I haven't had to do it much because I tend to avoid early morning activities. I resent people and things, at least for the first hour or so, when they make me get up early. All the friends know not to even bother trying to call me before 10 on the weekends (that's already better in recent years. It used to be noon) And having a coherent conversation with me? Forget it. It's going to be interesting come December 3rd for the half marathon...
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Double Rainbow
Two Fridays ago, on a gloomy stormy afternoon, the sun broke out of the clouds for a moment and rainbows appeared! I've only seen a double rainbow one other time in my life when I was a kid. It's a little hard to see the inverted rainbow on the left, but it's there! I didn't have a camera with me at work, so I ran around the studio grabbing the first camera I could borrow. I blame the foreign camera for the wacky colors. The sky was actually much bluer and things weren't quite so yellow and bright.
The funniest comment from one of my coworkers: "Looks like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is in Inglewood."
The funniest comment from one of my coworkers: "Looks like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is in Inglewood."
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Running to Stand Still
After over a two month break from running, I went back again last night. Partly because work is letting up a little (or I'm just too burnt out to care about sticking around) and partly because the bad feelings were coming back. And today I am sooooooo tired and sore.
Coincidentally enough, Clancy just convinced me to try this half marathon. Boy I hate running and I hate early mornings even more. We have about 5 weeks and I've never run more than 3 miles in a row. Never in my wildest dreams would I think to try a marathon, but this half marathon... I don't know. The satisfaction of finishing something like that might just be worth it. It's something I didn't think I could ever physically do or want to do.
But then I'm feeling a little rebellious against myself lately.
Coincidentally enough, Clancy just convinced me to try this half marathon. Boy I hate running and I hate early mornings even more. We have about 5 weeks and I've never run more than 3 miles in a row. Never in my wildest dreams would I think to try a marathon, but this half marathon... I don't know. The satisfaction of finishing something like that might just be worth it. It's something I didn't think I could ever physically do or want to do.
But then I'm feeling a little rebellious against myself lately.
Mis-cues
You know how people learn things through socialization with others? But then there are the odd ones that never pick up certain cues? I'm great with the etiquette and being courteous of others but when it comes to certain dating cues, wow, I'm a slow learner. According to some of my favorite blogs, here and here, inviting someone over to watch a movie means making out. Heh heh. Up until the last year or two, I was still thinking it harmlessly meant inviting a friend over to watch a movie. Boy was I suprised. Never too late to learn.
Monday, October 23, 2006
The Beauty of Song
Ooh, I learned a new trick. Instead of posting a link to the band or song I like, I can post the song itself now.
The Killers - When We Were Young
I've currently been obsessed with this song. It's upbeat yet wistful. And it fits my mood. I feel like I should be upbeat because technically nothing's wrong. I have a full successful life with people who love me. Yet I'm wistful. I yearn for the days of being young and naively hopeful about life. I yearn for the fairy tale. I want to save and be saved. But as wistful as the song is, it also reminds me that I can't wait around, be saved, nor settle for something less than the real thing. Yup, all that, attributed to one song.
The Killers - When We Were Young
I've currently been obsessed with this song. It's upbeat yet wistful. And it fits my mood. I feel like I should be upbeat because technically nothing's wrong. I have a full successful life with people who love me. Yet I'm wistful. I yearn for the days of being young and naively hopeful about life. I yearn for the fairy tale. I want to save and be saved. But as wistful as the song is, it also reminds me that I can't wait around, be saved, nor settle for something less than the real thing. Yup, all that, attributed to one song.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
List Update
I haven't forgotten the list. But try as I might, I can't seem to blow those wrappers off the straws. It's a pretty sad sight since I've been practicing every chance I get.
On the other hand, belly dancing is going well. I may not be able to move my hips like a Tahitian dancer, but at least the hips are still moving. Whew...
On the other hand, belly dancing is going well. I may not be able to move my hips like a Tahitian dancer, but at least the hips are still moving. Whew...
Life Imitates Art Imitates Life
I'm not sure about the rest of America, but one of the reasons I love the show Grey's Anatomy so much, besides the clever writing and beautiful people, is the gut-wrenching angst and relatability of their situation. No, I don't save lives for a living. In fact, in response to all our bosses running about stressing over some minute scheduling delay, one of my favorite bosses once exclaimed "Just chill out people. It's not brain surgery. We make cartoons for a living! No one's gonna live or die if this doesn't get done." Doesn't sound like the strongest thing for a work ethic, but I've kept that motto in my head ever since.
Anyway, I digress.
The small group of main characters all work, date, live, and breathe in each other's presence. Bosses, exes, friends, and enemies are forced to be around each other ALL the time. You may think, "ah, that's because it's a TV show. That's why they don't leave that pool of people." Not so. Not so at all.
I read a magazine poll that said something like 38% met their significant other at the workplace, about 34% through friends, and maybe 10% or less at a bar. Only 2-3% found relationships online, about the same percentage as randomly meeting someone at a bookstore or a park out of pure serendipity. Of course, this is the same magazine that said the average woman owns about 30 pairs of shoes, so yes, according to all of its statistics, I fit in quite well in the "normal" category. Whoo hoo!
On the last episode of Grey's, the main character, Meredith exclaimed "You're everywhere!" to her ex, just like her ex's ex said to her when she was crying in the closet. (it's a complicated love triangle) And of course, there's nothing they can do about it. They've made their bed and now they have to lie in it, so to speak.
They are everywhere. I work with them, I eat with them, I take classes with them, I celebrate birthdays with them, and I watch movies and attend dinner parties with them. I tell myself that I'll be fine. I tell my friends I feel fine. I'm being strong and sucking it up. But I know subconsciously, it's probably damaging my psyche in the long run. Maybe it's out of convenience. Or maybe because I can't quite let go nor delicately extricate myself. I'm stubborn as all hell and refuse to compromise what work ethic and pride I do have by collapsing into a heap or quitting my job until I 100% believe that the reasons are purely professional.
I try my hardest not to complain to my weary friends, even if it doesn't seem that way. I try to coop it up inside because even I'm sick of hearing myself talk about the same fretful, stupid things. I made my bed, and boy am I lying in it. Yet, I don't have any regrets because I'd probably do it the same foolish way all over again. The hopeful romantic in me needs to be stabbed with a fork.
Anyway, I digress.
The small group of main characters all work, date, live, and breathe in each other's presence. Bosses, exes, friends, and enemies are forced to be around each other ALL the time. You may think, "ah, that's because it's a TV show. That's why they don't leave that pool of people." Not so. Not so at all.
I read a magazine poll that said something like 38% met their significant other at the workplace, about 34% through friends, and maybe 10% or less at a bar. Only 2-3% found relationships online, about the same percentage as randomly meeting someone at a bookstore or a park out of pure serendipity. Of course, this is the same magazine that said the average woman owns about 30 pairs of shoes, so yes, according to all of its statistics, I fit in quite well in the "normal" category. Whoo hoo!
On the last episode of Grey's, the main character, Meredith exclaimed "You're everywhere!" to her ex, just like her ex's ex said to her when she was crying in the closet. (it's a complicated love triangle) And of course, there's nothing they can do about it. They've made their bed and now they have to lie in it, so to speak.
They are everywhere. I work with them, I eat with them, I take classes with them, I celebrate birthdays with them, and I watch movies and attend dinner parties with them. I tell myself that I'll be fine. I tell my friends I feel fine. I'm being strong and sucking it up. But I know subconsciously, it's probably damaging my psyche in the long run. Maybe it's out of convenience. Or maybe because I can't quite let go nor delicately extricate myself. I'm stubborn as all hell and refuse to compromise what work ethic and pride I do have by collapsing into a heap or quitting my job until I 100% believe that the reasons are purely professional.
I try my hardest not to complain to my weary friends, even if it doesn't seem that way. I try to coop it up inside because even I'm sick of hearing myself talk about the same fretful, stupid things. I made my bed, and boy am I lying in it. Yet, I don't have any regrets because I'd probably do it the same foolish way all over again. The hopeful romantic in me needs to be stabbed with a fork.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Sucks To Be An Elephant
To forgive = to not hate; acceptance of the wrongdoer's existence in your life
To forget = to be indifferent; not caring at all whether wrongdoer is in your life or not, happy or sad, dead or alive
I'm finding that forgiveness is much easier to do. Hating someone expends too much energy. And sometimes you have to be grown up and continue to see or interact with people you'd rather send to a place like... Zimbabwe.
The tricky part is forgetting. The goal is indifference. But to forget the sting of being hurt or betrayed - the timing of that feels so unpredictable.
I've been tossing around the phrase "To forgive and forget" in my head for awhile now, trying to make sense of it, because for me, those things don't feel like they go hand in hand. Can you do one and not the other? Can I forgive someone but never be able to forget? Or can I forget about something out of sheer old age, but yet never forgive them? I feel like I've done both but wondering if the forgiveness and the forgetfulness eventually cross paths one day.
To forget = to be indifferent; not caring at all whether wrongdoer is in your life or not, happy or sad, dead or alive
I'm finding that forgiveness is much easier to do. Hating someone expends too much energy. And sometimes you have to be grown up and continue to see or interact with people you'd rather send to a place like... Zimbabwe.
The tricky part is forgetting. The goal is indifference. But to forget the sting of being hurt or betrayed - the timing of that feels so unpredictable.
I've been tossing around the phrase "To forgive and forget" in my head for awhile now, trying to make sense of it, because for me, those things don't feel like they go hand in hand. Can you do one and not the other? Can I forgive someone but never be able to forget? Or can I forget about something out of sheer old age, but yet never forgive them? I feel like I've done both but wondering if the forgiveness and the forgetfulness eventually cross paths one day.
Monday, October 16, 2006
It's A Small World After All
This weekend, my friend, the ballet dancer, attended a birthday party for some people she knew through her boyfriend. When she scoured the Evite the week before, she saw a name that seemed strangely familiar. Mr. DD.
Of course, luck would have it that the ballet dancer answered the door when Mr. DD arrived. She politely introduced herself, feeling like she already knew him so well. Of course, like a heat seeking missile, she would have sought him out anyway, after asking the hostess to point him out if he ever showed up. (Never underestimate the power of a protective girl friend.)
She introduced herself, asked where he worked and said "Oh, do you know Whatchamacalit? She's one of my VERY good friends and we used to work together at the mouse-eared company." Though she was perfectly friendly with him, offering him food and chatting with him for a bit, her boyfriend claimed that she "pounced on him like a shark." He didn't stay for very long.
Apparently, the hostess, who only knew Mr. DD through her husband's mutual friends, did not think highly of him and confessed to the ballet dancer that they always thought he was hiding in the closet and gay. I'm fairly confident he's not, but boy, I could not stop laughing or wipe the idiotic grin off my face for a good 5 minutes after I got the voice mail from the ballet dancer.
Soooooo cheap, but it feels sooooooo good...
The hostess also complained to the ballet dancer that he didn't seem to know how to treat women very well and lacked social graces, completely oblivious to someone's birthday and refusing to move from a seat at the center of table for the guest of honor. Yup, that would be my emotionally stunted and socially awkward Mr. DD.
I don't feel so crazy anymore. He's not my Chicken Boo and I'm not the only one who was treated badly or befuddled or knows he's not THAT much of a nice guy. My ballet dancer friend has brought me some closure and boy do I love her for it.
Of course, luck would have it that the ballet dancer answered the door when Mr. DD arrived. She politely introduced herself, feeling like she already knew him so well. Of course, like a heat seeking missile, she would have sought him out anyway, after asking the hostess to point him out if he ever showed up. (Never underestimate the power of a protective girl friend.)
She introduced herself, asked where he worked and said "Oh, do you know Whatchamacalit? She's one of my VERY good friends and we used to work together at the mouse-eared company." Though she was perfectly friendly with him, offering him food and chatting with him for a bit, her boyfriend claimed that she "pounced on him like a shark." He didn't stay for very long.
Apparently, the hostess, who only knew Mr. DD through her husband's mutual friends, did not think highly of him and confessed to the ballet dancer that they always thought he was hiding in the closet and gay. I'm fairly confident he's not, but boy, I could not stop laughing or wipe the idiotic grin off my face for a good 5 minutes after I got the voice mail from the ballet dancer.
Soooooo cheap, but it feels sooooooo good...
The hostess also complained to the ballet dancer that he didn't seem to know how to treat women very well and lacked social graces, completely oblivious to someone's birthday and refusing to move from a seat at the center of table for the guest of honor. Yup, that would be my emotionally stunted and socially awkward Mr. DD.
I don't feel so crazy anymore. He's not my Chicken Boo and I'm not the only one who was treated badly or befuddled or knows he's not THAT much of a nice guy. My ballet dancer friend has brought me some closure and boy do I love her for it.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
The Circle of Life (Work Life That Is...)
In a strange coincidence, I saw several old bosses from my first job at the mouse eared company this week. On Thursday night, I ran into my first boss at the Century City mall as she was leaving the Container Store grand opening party while my curious Spelling Bee friend and I were trying to crash it. We didn't get in but we did get a nice giveaway gift and I did get to catch up with my old boss.
I temped for her right out of college and she was kind enough to eventually hire me on permanently. Being one of the few Asians at the company at that time, we bonded on a certain level and I considered her a friend though she was eleven years older and newly married. By the time the tumultuous project ended and we had gone through 3 years together, we needed a break and I realized there was too much of a generational and cultural gap between us to remain close friends. We both stopped trying though there weren't any hard feelings between us and I still inquired about her life through mutual friends.
To see her again after a couple of years, though she's left the business and I've done well career-wise, still brought me back to the 22 year old kid I was when I started working for her. I almost felt silly and a fraud telling her my title now. At the same time, it was refreshing to realize how far I had come and that she was genuinely happy for me.
On another note, I attended a baby shower for another old boss from that first project this weekend and again saw two old supervisors from that first job. They were both very nice but still had an unaffected air toward me just like when I was that 22 year old assistant running around trying to please. Luckily, I met a lot of other nice women there and even one girl who worked for all the same bosses after me. I'm going to try to hire her to work with me.
I temped for her right out of college and she was kind enough to eventually hire me on permanently. Being one of the few Asians at the company at that time, we bonded on a certain level and I considered her a friend though she was eleven years older and newly married. By the time the tumultuous project ended and we had gone through 3 years together, we needed a break and I realized there was too much of a generational and cultural gap between us to remain close friends. We both stopped trying though there weren't any hard feelings between us and I still inquired about her life through mutual friends.
To see her again after a couple of years, though she's left the business and I've done well career-wise, still brought me back to the 22 year old kid I was when I started working for her. I almost felt silly and a fraud telling her my title now. At the same time, it was refreshing to realize how far I had come and that she was genuinely happy for me.
On another note, I attended a baby shower for another old boss from that first project this weekend and again saw two old supervisors from that first job. They were both very nice but still had an unaffected air toward me just like when I was that 22 year old assistant running around trying to please. Luckily, I met a lot of other nice women there and even one girl who worked for all the same bosses after me. I'm going to try to hire her to work with me.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Bad dream
Last night, I revelled in the thought of getting a good 8 hours sleep but instead had a fretful night. I dreamt that Mr. DD was in a relationship with one of my childhood friends. And they had a baby. And my friend was telling me that they'd probably get married sooner or later. As soon as I cleared him for some vacation time.
He never had the decency to tell me about any of it. (Which I guess would be characteristic of him.) He just shrugged and mumbled at me. I wasn't mad at my friend and she wasn't sorry or insincere. She was just being herself. And I was happy for her as much as I could be though it hurt so much.
I woke up with a start in the middle of the night, awoken by the gigantic ache in my chest. Heartache I think it was. Though I don't know why. I don't know what strange subconscious thought conjured up that dream. I don't know why I would ever ache for this person. And frankly, I'm a little pissed that the bad dream destroyed the possibility of good sleep.
No more cuppa tea for me after dinner. Or maybe I should take up watching horror films so that I can have a proper nightmare instead of an emotional one.
He never had the decency to tell me about any of it. (Which I guess would be characteristic of him.) He just shrugged and mumbled at me. I wasn't mad at my friend and she wasn't sorry or insincere. She was just being herself. And I was happy for her as much as I could be though it hurt so much.
I woke up with a start in the middle of the night, awoken by the gigantic ache in my chest. Heartache I think it was. Though I don't know why. I don't know what strange subconscious thought conjured up that dream. I don't know why I would ever ache for this person. And frankly, I'm a little pissed that the bad dream destroyed the possibility of good sleep.
No more cuppa tea for me after dinner. Or maybe I should take up watching horror films so that I can have a proper nightmare instead of an emotional one.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Words I Hate
Well I guess technically, some of them are phrases...
proactive
synergy
due-diligence
ETA
IMO
IMHO
I guess there's a pattern here.
On a totally nonsequiter kind of note, there's rain forecasted for the weekend! Wheeeeeeee!
proactive
synergy
due-diligence
ETA
IMO
IMHO
I guess there's a pattern here.
On a totally nonsequiter kind of note, there's rain forecasted for the weekend! Wheeeeeeee!
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Procrastination
Like Dooce, I was always the type of person that always did well in school but procrastinated until the last minute to get everything done. Ten page papers, school tests, class projects...and almost all the time I'd pass with flying colors and get that A. Maybe I do well or even better under pressure, but the toll my body, especially my weak stomach, took from the stress more than made up for it.
Sometimes I feel like my dumb luck ran out or maybe it's karma biting me in the ass. It's the only way I can explain working in a place FILLED with people who like to work till the last minute, yet stun all our clients in the final hour when we do make our deliverables and surpass their artistic expectations. In turn, stressing me out even more since I now have to manage these people. It's like my own personal purgatory, but without all the fire and brimstone.
Sometimes I feel like my dumb luck ran out or maybe it's karma biting me in the ass. It's the only way I can explain working in a place FILLED with people who like to work till the last minute, yet stun all our clients in the final hour when we do make our deliverables and surpass their artistic expectations. In turn, stressing me out even more since I now have to manage these people. It's like my own personal purgatory, but without all the fire and brimstone.
Monday, October 09, 2006
"Mom" Clean
After over a year of not visiting, my parents decided to slum it and visit me at my hole of an apartment and visit the Getty Villa for my birthday. Since I'd had no time to really give my apartment a good scrubbing the past couple months (nor did I want to), I decided to bite the bullet Saturday morning and called several cleaning companies until one could fit me in that day.
One company managed to squeeze in an hour and a half and prioritized scrubbing my kitchen and bathroom. I explained the situation. My parents are coming by tomorrow. This place needs to be "mom" clean. I overpaid of course, but I figure it was a birthday present to myself. Well, that and the two pairs of very cute shoes I bought over the weekend.
Come Sunday, parents showed up and marvelled at still, how small my apartment was and how much stuff I had. I had to say it. I had to tell them "look how clean my place is!!!" But 15 minutes later, my mom was scouring my rice cooker. "Look how filthy this is!" as she picked out crusty old rice bits with a toothpick. Then she started on the pan. "You can't use this pan. The teflon is coming off. You'll poison yourself."
"But it's my only pan!" I protested. "We'll get you a new one." she affirmed.
Before she could continue cleaning every kitchen appliance of mine, we dragged her out and headed for the Getty in Malibu. The last time we saw it, I was possibly in high school. Or maybe college. I don't remember. I'm getting senile in my old age.
Anyway, the Getty Villa would be the opposite size of my apartment. I long for the giant wading pool/fountain in the front. And though I don't like pomegranates, I love this pomegranate tree full of fruit that looks like onions.
After spending about 2 hours viewing all the Greek, Roman, and Etruscan art featured at the museum, not to mention reading all the mythology that accompanied each piece, my favorite quote inscribed on the wall of The Enduring Myth: The Tragedy of Hippolytos and Phaidra exhibition was this:
"I shall never get my fill of hating women... Their evil is eternal."
One company managed to squeeze in an hour and a half and prioritized scrubbing my kitchen and bathroom. I explained the situation. My parents are coming by tomorrow. This place needs to be "mom" clean. I overpaid of course, but I figure it was a birthday present to myself. Well, that and the two pairs of very cute shoes I bought over the weekend.
Come Sunday, parents showed up and marvelled at still, how small my apartment was and how much stuff I had. I had to say it. I had to tell them "look how clean my place is!!!" But 15 minutes later, my mom was scouring my rice cooker. "Look how filthy this is!" as she picked out crusty old rice bits with a toothpick. Then she started on the pan. "You can't use this pan. The teflon is coming off. You'll poison yourself."
"But it's my only pan!" I protested. "We'll get you a new one." she affirmed.
Before she could continue cleaning every kitchen appliance of mine, we dragged her out and headed for the Getty in Malibu. The last time we saw it, I was possibly in high school. Or maybe college. I don't remember. I'm getting senile in my old age.
Anyway, the Getty Villa would be the opposite size of my apartment. I long for the giant wading pool/fountain in the front. And though I don't like pomegranates, I love this pomegranate tree full of fruit that looks like onions.
After spending about 2 hours viewing all the Greek, Roman, and Etruscan art featured at the museum, not to mention reading all the mythology that accompanied each piece, my favorite quote inscribed on the wall of The Enduring Myth: The Tragedy of Hippolytos and Phaidra exhibition was this:
"I shall never get my fill of hating women... Their evil is eternal."
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Ankle Deep in the 30's
Miss Flip Flops told me that October 5th is the most common birthday around the world. New Years babies she called us. Apparently I share a birthday with the most people in the world, including Kate Winslet from Titanic, my death defying glacier climbing coworker, and the fiancee of a boy I once thought was The One. Go figure.
The past few years, I usually made sure to not be at work, out of the country, or at least out of town. This year, bogged down by work and little vacation time (and my boss's inopportunely timed vacation), I was unfortunately grounded here with only plans of getting ice cream. Let that be the last time I ever do that.
Birthday eve had me staying until 10pm, dealing with the crazy client, a couple of artists melting down, and a near breakdown myself. Birthday morning, grouchy as all hell, I got up at 7 to get in to work by 8am to deal with more crazy client, burnt out artists, and insensitive clods. I nearly burst into tears when Mom called, wondering if I was enjoying my day off somewhere and having a nice day.
By the time it was nearly 7, I realized I had been there for 11 hours, I had had enough and dammit, it was my birthday. And courtesy of the lovely Sly, there was homemade chicken noodle soup to be had. As it has been the theme of late, I burst into tears in the car as I drove off.
The only thing that saved this birthday from being the worst one of all time, was all the continuous wonderful phone calls, emails, cards, gifts, and friends and family throughout the week. And at the end of the night after Sly and I had finished our ice cream at Baskin Robbins, me@co, Clancy, Homey, and Kinemagirl made the effort to stop by and have an ice cream with me. It warmed my heart and erased some of the awfulness of work... at least until I had to go back again the next day.
The past few years, I usually made sure to not be at work, out of the country, or at least out of town. This year, bogged down by work and little vacation time (and my boss's inopportunely timed vacation), I was unfortunately grounded here with only plans of getting ice cream. Let that be the last time I ever do that.
Birthday eve had me staying until 10pm, dealing with the crazy client, a couple of artists melting down, and a near breakdown myself. Birthday morning, grouchy as all hell, I got up at 7 to get in to work by 8am to deal with more crazy client, burnt out artists, and insensitive clods. I nearly burst into tears when Mom called, wondering if I was enjoying my day off somewhere and having a nice day.
By the time it was nearly 7, I realized I had been there for 11 hours, I had had enough and dammit, it was my birthday. And courtesy of the lovely Sly, there was homemade chicken noodle soup to be had. As it has been the theme of late, I burst into tears in the car as I drove off.
The only thing that saved this birthday from being the worst one of all time, was all the continuous wonderful phone calls, emails, cards, gifts, and friends and family throughout the week. And at the end of the night after Sly and I had finished our ice cream at Baskin Robbins, me@co, Clancy, Homey, and Kinemagirl made the effort to stop by and have an ice cream with me. It warmed my heart and erased some of the awfulness of work... at least until I had to go back again the next day.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Healing
I'm a bad healer. By that, I don't mean I heal others badly. I actually possess no such powers. I mean, I heal badly. Slowly, painfully, awkwardly, and all twistedly (yeah, that's probably not a word).
Physically, I scar and it hangs around for months, years, sometimes permanently. My ankle scrape from July? It's still there on my ankle. I have a lovely purple bruise looking scar on my elbow. It's from 8th grade and happened when I fell down my friend's driveway as she tried to kill me by closing the garage door on my head as I walked out.
Emotionally, I seem to take about 10 times as long to heal from something than the actual thing itself, be it a falling out with a friend, a crushing from a boy, a fight with anyone I remotely care about, a careless comment, a forgotten gesture... I don't come out of it the same person. Though some may say it's a good thing, that you're supposed to come out stronger, I detest the helplessness of it all.
Bizarro Twin said it best when she told me "Every time these things happen, it all dings you a little bit. And it all starts adding up." Apparently, we're all at the age where the sum of it all is starting to weigh us down. I'm learning and trying very hard to let things go. But honestly, I think I'm healing all funny.
Physically, I scar and it hangs around for months, years, sometimes permanently. My ankle scrape from July? It's still there on my ankle. I have a lovely purple bruise looking scar on my elbow. It's from 8th grade and happened when I fell down my friend's driveway as she tried to kill me by closing the garage door on my head as I walked out.
Emotionally, I seem to take about 10 times as long to heal from something than the actual thing itself, be it a falling out with a friend, a crushing from a boy, a fight with anyone I remotely care about, a careless comment, a forgotten gesture... I don't come out of it the same person. Though some may say it's a good thing, that you're supposed to come out stronger, I detest the helplessness of it all.
Bizarro Twin said it best when she told me "Every time these things happen, it all dings you a little bit. And it all starts adding up." Apparently, we're all at the age where the sum of it all is starting to weigh us down. I'm learning and trying very hard to let things go. But honestly, I think I'm healing all funny.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Day 2 of Octoberfest
At 6:38pm, I walked out the door, fed up with the socially retarded artists, the whiny babies (also the artists), the ludicrous clients, and the insensitive clodlike bosses. I ditched a meeting, checked in with nary a supervisor, said goodbye to no one and didn't look back. It was glorious. And it was only Monday.
Tonight, Sly and I hit the House of Blues on Sunset for the Hotel Cafe Tour. I highly recommend trying to catch the show. I mainly went to see Joshua Radin, whom I first heard playing live on KCRW almost a year ago. Rarely do I hear an artist or band once and fall head over heels in love with a voice to the point of exerting effort to seek out live shows and buy the CD. For this artist, I dragged Sly to the Hotel Cafe last year and we lined up for an hour outside the venue (they shun Ticketmaster there). Sadly, we didn't get in but stood outside the door and listened to the whole performance.
This time, I made dinner reservation at the HOB restaurant, hoping to get some kind of early entrance or table at the front to watch the whole concert. But it was a Monday, and luck hadn't really been on my side today. (I left my credit card behind at the restaurant at lunch, my crazy client had called no less than 4 times by 9am and gave me an earful at 5 demanding that I "verbally describe" the animation we were going to post for him in a few hours since it wasn't ready to be posted right then and there....) After circling the whole venue, having our purses searched and metal detector wands waved over our bodies, going up the stairs, and being "processed," we ended back on the other side of the restaurant we started from with the same regular seats. Apparently a gaggle of agents were showing up halfway through the concert and they had to reserve all the VIP tables in the front.
We still had a deliciously filling dinner of soul food and made it into the concert at the end of Schuyler Fisk. Apparently her name is pronounced "Sky-ler" and she's the daughter of Sissy Spacek of "Carrie" fame. Those crazy offspring of celebrities with their crazy names...
Anyway, there was also the redheaded, barefoot swaying folksy singer, Brett Dennen. He actually greeted us at the front of HOB and gave us directions when we walked up to the porch and asked where the restaurant entrance was. Imagine our surprise an hour and a half later when we saw him take the stage.
Joshua Radin followed and he sounded every bit as wonderful as he does on the radio and on my mp3's. There was Cary Brothers, who I sadly thought were two brothers with the surname of Cary. It's actually one guy with the surname of Brothers. Amos Lee was a surprise guest who looked terrified of the crowd but sang one song beautifully in his deep voice. Priscilla Ahn also surprised guested for one song. She managed to play guitar and the harmonica at the same time, in between singing and looking absolutely petitely beautiful. Sometimes life just ain't fair.
By the time we got to Jim Bianco, whom I wasn't terribly interested in, we had made our way downstairs, where I wanted to support these struggling artists and buy a CD. I got Joshua Radin's CD and lo and behold, he was hanging out right there at the booth chatting with random people. I decided to have him sign my newly bought CD and waited patiently while he finished chatting with some other fan. Maybe I was too patient and not fanlike enough, because three pushy women cut in front of me to have their posters signed and asked for hugs. When the fourth girl stepped up to do the same, I moved over and blocked her out like a defensive lineman. It was too ridiculous.
I stepped up to Joshua, said hi, and handed him my CD.
"What's your name?" he shouted.
"What?" I shouted back so elegantly.
"Your name?" he shouted again.
I told him and he was sweet enough to ask which way I spelled it.
I was determined to not be like the other silly girl fans and fawn over him or ask for a hug.
"I heard you on KCRW," I told him, "and I tried to see you at the Hotel Cafe last year, but we couldn't get in."
"Aw, I'm glad you made it out tonight. Thank you for coming! Let me give you a hug," he replied, and then reached over to give me a lovely warm bear hug.
Totally unexpected but hey, the most affection I've gotten from any boy in ages. I'm officially a loyal fan for life. I turned around and walked back to Sly who was laughing at me. After we watched Jim Bianco precariously stage dive into the crowd of mostly women and indie music loving non moshers, we called it a night and headed out. Not bad for a Monday night.
Tonight, Sly and I hit the House of Blues on Sunset for the Hotel Cafe Tour. I highly recommend trying to catch the show. I mainly went to see Joshua Radin, whom I first heard playing live on KCRW almost a year ago. Rarely do I hear an artist or band once and fall head over heels in love with a voice to the point of exerting effort to seek out live shows and buy the CD. For this artist, I dragged Sly to the Hotel Cafe last year and we lined up for an hour outside the venue (they shun Ticketmaster there). Sadly, we didn't get in but stood outside the door and listened to the whole performance.
This time, I made dinner reservation at the HOB restaurant, hoping to get some kind of early entrance or table at the front to watch the whole concert. But it was a Monday, and luck hadn't really been on my side today. (I left my credit card behind at the restaurant at lunch, my crazy client had called no less than 4 times by 9am and gave me an earful at 5 demanding that I "verbally describe" the animation we were going to post for him in a few hours since it wasn't ready to be posted right then and there....) After circling the whole venue, having our purses searched and metal detector wands waved over our bodies, going up the stairs, and being "processed," we ended back on the other side of the restaurant we started from with the same regular seats. Apparently a gaggle of agents were showing up halfway through the concert and they had to reserve all the VIP tables in the front.
We still had a deliciously filling dinner of soul food and made it into the concert at the end of Schuyler Fisk. Apparently her name is pronounced "Sky-ler" and she's the daughter of Sissy Spacek of "Carrie" fame. Those crazy offspring of celebrities with their crazy names...
Anyway, there was also the redheaded, barefoot swaying folksy singer, Brett Dennen. He actually greeted us at the front of HOB and gave us directions when we walked up to the porch and asked where the restaurant entrance was. Imagine our surprise an hour and a half later when we saw him take the stage.
Joshua Radin followed and he sounded every bit as wonderful as he does on the radio and on my mp3's. There was Cary Brothers, who I sadly thought were two brothers with the surname of Cary. It's actually one guy with the surname of Brothers. Amos Lee was a surprise guest who looked terrified of the crowd but sang one song beautifully in his deep voice. Priscilla Ahn also surprised guested for one song. She managed to play guitar and the harmonica at the same time, in between singing and looking absolutely petitely beautiful. Sometimes life just ain't fair.
By the time we got to Jim Bianco, whom I wasn't terribly interested in, we had made our way downstairs, where I wanted to support these struggling artists and buy a CD. I got Joshua Radin's CD and lo and behold, he was hanging out right there at the booth chatting with random people. I decided to have him sign my newly bought CD and waited patiently while he finished chatting with some other fan. Maybe I was too patient and not fanlike enough, because three pushy women cut in front of me to have their posters signed and asked for hugs. When the fourth girl stepped up to do the same, I moved over and blocked her out like a defensive lineman. It was too ridiculous.
I stepped up to Joshua, said hi, and handed him my CD.
"What's your name?" he shouted.
"What?" I shouted back so elegantly.
"Your name?" he shouted again.
I told him and he was sweet enough to ask which way I spelled it.
I was determined to not be like the other silly girl fans and fawn over him or ask for a hug.
"I heard you on KCRW," I told him, "and I tried to see you at the Hotel Cafe last year, but we couldn't get in."
"Aw, I'm glad you made it out tonight. Thank you for coming! Let me give you a hug," he replied, and then reached over to give me a lovely warm bear hug.
Totally unexpected but hey, the most affection I've gotten from any boy in ages. I'm officially a loyal fan for life. I turned around and walked back to Sly who was laughing at me. After we watched Jim Bianco precariously stage dive into the crowd of mostly women and indie music loving non moshers, we called it a night and headed out. Not bad for a Monday night.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
It's October!
Since I was a kid, October has always signified the start of good things. Happy times. Good food. My birthday kicks it off in October, followed by the holiday involving gobs of candy. Then there is my brother's birthday, my dad's birthday and Thanksgiving in the next month. For December, the whole month is just a countdown to Christmas, with my parents' anniversary wedged in between, and finally my mom's birthday on the last day of the year. I can't help but be happy the last three months of the year since it means gifts - giving and receiving them - family, and friends. I'm almost depressed come January and the rest of the other 8 months.
Today, I am happy. Happier than I have been in a long time. My belly is stuffed full of some of the best food I've ever tasted, I've spent a very relaxing day with a great friend, and I've had a lovely weekend away from work.
On Friday, I received my first birthday gift - a beautiful knitted hat
from UBBF which I've stowed away in my purse and already worn this weekend. Last night, I joined a couple of work friends, a different group from the usual cliques, to watch The Science of Sleep, which I loved and also perfectly encapsulated how zany and emotional your dream life can be.
For this first day of October, it sprinkled rain and stayed coolly overcast all day. Just the way I like it most of the time. Wavy helped kick off the birthday month with brunch at Coral Tree Cafe and treated me to a massage at The Massage Place. Both brunch and massage were amazing. Suitably oiled up from the massage, we wandered over to Century City Mall, trying on overpriced t-shirts, and strolled around until dinner.
Dinner was the best part. Out of pure serendipity, we parked in front of Katsuya before brunch. We knocked on the door to make dinner reservations to the chagrin of the hostess, giving us an annoyed "can't you see we're not open yet and I'm busy typing on my chic laptop?" kind of look. Luckily that was the only snobbery we encountered the rest of the day in the shishi town of Brentwood.
I can't even begin to describe how wonderfully scrumptious the food was. The dish on the right is the seared salmon and avocado wrapped in tempura while the dish with the leaf is spicy tuna on crisped rice.
Tom Hanks, his wife Rita Wilson and their kids dined two tables away. Peter Gallagher from the OC, ate with his family in the next room over and made a point of stopping by Tom Hanks' table to say hi. We didn't try very hard not to stare.
All in all, a perfect day. In the end, the best part was spending a whole day with Wavy. And the best gift was the gift of her time.
Today, I am happy. Happier than I have been in a long time. My belly is stuffed full of some of the best food I've ever tasted, I've spent a very relaxing day with a great friend, and I've had a lovely weekend away from work.
On Friday, I received my first birthday gift - a beautiful knitted hat
from UBBF which I've stowed away in my purse and already worn this weekend. Last night, I joined a couple of work friends, a different group from the usual cliques, to watch The Science of Sleep, which I loved and also perfectly encapsulated how zany and emotional your dream life can be.
For this first day of October, it sprinkled rain and stayed coolly overcast all day. Just the way I like it most of the time. Wavy helped kick off the birthday month with brunch at Coral Tree Cafe and treated me to a massage at The Massage Place. Both brunch and massage were amazing. Suitably oiled up from the massage, we wandered over to Century City Mall, trying on overpriced t-shirts, and strolled around until dinner.
Dinner was the best part. Out of pure serendipity, we parked in front of Katsuya before brunch. We knocked on the door to make dinner reservations to the chagrin of the hostess, giving us an annoyed "can't you see we're not open yet and I'm busy typing on my chic laptop?" kind of look. Luckily that was the only snobbery we encountered the rest of the day in the shishi town of Brentwood.
I can't even begin to describe how wonderfully scrumptious the food was. The dish on the right is the seared salmon and avocado wrapped in tempura while the dish with the leaf is spicy tuna on crisped rice.
Tom Hanks, his wife Rita Wilson and their kids dined two tables away. Peter Gallagher from the OC, ate with his family in the next room over and made a point of stopping by Tom Hanks' table to say hi. We didn't try very hard not to stare.
All in all, a perfect day. In the end, the best part was spending a whole day with Wavy. And the best gift was the gift of her time.
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