Oh What Tangled Webs We Weave

I realized that this holiday week will be the longest time that this latest boy and I have spent apart since we started dating. And though I kinda miss him and his silly mug, I feel ok about it. Whew.

I still have minor freak outs along the way. I still ask myself every so often if I'd be ok if he suddenly went away. (Yes, I think so.) And I still wonder where this will go and whether I'll strangle him from his horrible sense of time management and tardiness or if I'll learn to just roll with it.

What I have decided though, are things that I will never ever tell him about - at least in the foreseeable future:

• that the person I was in love with and completely destroyed over a couple years ago is one of his closest friends - did I mention that he told a very stunned boy-who-was-the-one about us already? It would have been interesting to see his reaction in person. If I wasn't still ignoring his IM's and emails.
  
• that the last person I dated is his supervisor on this project we're all working on together. I'm the producer on it. Which makes Mr. DD and me his bosses. Kinda.
  
• Obviously, this blog, detailing all my adventures in fun details. But he doesn't like to read anyway, so I might be safe.

Oi To The World

Somehow, I've made it to Christmas day without pulling out all my hair. Cards were sent out, gifts wrapped, gifts opened, parties attended, friends visited, and time spent with boy.

AHHHHHHHHH. That's me breathing a nice sigh of relief as I enjoy a window of time to myself now that food is baking in the oven and before the relatives start pouring in, in the next two hours.

It's nice to be home and sleeping for more than eight hours at a time. It was nice to sit down and have dinner with just my family on Christmas eve - the four of us - which hasn't happened in years because of sharing my brother's time with his ex. It made me downright giddily happy to stay at home with all of them watching a bad movie (Rush Hour 3 - boooooo) and being nerds by whipping out our telescope and trying to track down Mars in the backyard.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Vegas until Saturday to see my friends and meet their new baby and my brother's off to NY on Thursday until the New Year to visit his girflfriend. Family time was brief but well-cherished. Enough to get me to 2008.

Where Has The Time Gone?

I feel like I'm going slightly insane. There hasn't been enough time to:

- finish all my Christmas cards
- wrap all my Christmas gifts
- catch up on the foot and half high stack of magazines
- read a book
- read all my favorite blogs
- write on this blog
- watch all my TV shows
- sleep
- catch up with all my friends
- send out packages on time
- work out more than once a week
- baking a slew of goodies
- organize my finances even with my brother's offered help

Sigh. Maybe it's just the busyness of the holiday season. The shopping, the parties, the lack of wanting to concentrate on anything except Christmas.
Or maybe it's this latest boy who has joyfully sucked up whatever else time I do have left. What a tricky balancing act.
Right now, I'm dreading an awful meeting with clients tomorrow morning, feeling so moody that everything has made me want to cry the past 24 hours, and feeling slightly ill from gorging on a whole chocolate cupcake. Yep, definitely going slightly insane...

Winter Whimsy

It's only been about two months since I flew off to New Mexico for the birthday celebration with Miss Flip Flops, and yet it feels like it was eons ago. Thus, restless me has booked a weekend trip up to Seattle to visit Princess, cold weather, rain/snow and all. Maybe I'll bump into Loofa, who's been AWOL from the blogosphere for awhile. Maybe I'll luck out and have beautiful sunny albeit freezing cold weather. And maybe, just maybe I'll get further insights into the latest boy, who has decided to tag along with me up north, under the guise of visiting his hometown friends and hopefully being Princess's and my personal tour guide.

The trip may have been last minute and somewhat whimsical (the airline ticket probably reflects the cost of whimsy) but I feel so sneaky. I have it all plotted out. Tomorrow night is our company holiday party. A good chunk of the company usually calls in sick the next day due to massive hangovers and illness. Perfect excuse to call in sick myself and fly up Friday morning. However, I do have this worst case scenario in my head: a snowstorm strands me and the boy in Seattle Sunday night. We have to let work know we'll miss Monday and somehow expose all the lies and fraud of the sick day, the weekend, and our relationship. Gulp.

But then again, if that's my worst case scenario, that's really not so bad. Whoo hoo!

Views On Marriage

I went to see my godchildren last weekend to do our usual afternoons out at the movies and then dinner with the whole family. While we were busy playing games before it was time to leave for the movie, my goddaughter turned to me and asked:

"Are you married?"
"No. Why?" I asked her surprisingly.
"Then why do you wear rings on your fingers?" she inquired.
"Oh, well you don't have to be married to wear rings," I explained. "Here you can try one of mine on too," I told her, as I took off one of my rings.
She jerked her hand away from me and screamed. "Ahhhh! Ewwwwwwwww!"

Ah the simple wishes of a seven year old...

Outed By Technology Part 2

Until the past year, I was not an avid phone text messager. It's convenient and kinda fun, but I simply cannot type so fast on a phone keypad like some of the young'uns out there. I don't think I even have a text message plan on my cell - it's probably charging me per text and I can't wait to see how that cost is coming out from all the recent exciting texting activity.

As I was replying to a certain boy's text the other night, while walking with my brother and trying not to run into a wall, other people, or my brother himself, he looked over and said "Who are you texting?"

"Um, no one." (Yeah, I'm not so slick.)

Later that night at the basketball game, I decided to divulge the fact that I was dating somebody to my brother. Strange and fascinatingly wonderful that my brother is becoming one of my closest friends as we get older.

Being my friend, he asked all the usual questions that I would ask him about his new girlfriend. Background, age, nationality, how you met, etc.
He also replied, "Yeah I figured. From all your texting." Doh. So much for subtlety.

Being my brother, however, he did have to end the conversation like this:
"I want to meet him," he said. "So I can intimidate him with my height."

Outed By Technology Part 1

Sometimes I can be a bit retarded when it comes to technology, such as simple things like locking my cell phone key pad.

"Hey there! I keep getting accidental text msgs from you! Who are you saying goodnight to?" Me@Co asks me.
"Really? I'm sorry!" says me, all the while mortified at what else I've accidentally sent out to the first name on my phone list.
"There was one with a photo of your dad...I figured it was just an accident," Me@Co says.
"Must lock the phone down..." I explain.
"Who are you dating???" inquires Me@Co
"Oh god, now I'm racking my brain to see if there's anything embarrassing I might have sent you."
"Nope, that's all I got." she assures me.
"Whew."

Celebrating the End of the Fifteen Day Virus

Man, getting older sucks. Getting older means being sick longer. No more "bouncing back," no more playing through it... only rest and bland foods seemed to cure it. Which makes being better all the more glorious!

On Tuesday, Sly and I again hit the Troubadour to see Sondre Lerche, a boyish floppy haired Norwegian singer songwriter. He had quite the following, including a significant group of his fellow countrymen cheering him on. Though Sly had already heard of him, I mainly went because he composed the score and sang all the songs in the movie Dan In Real Life, and it was just the type of music I liked.

A more pleasant surprise was the old fogey who opened for Sondre. Dan Wilson. I never heard of him either. Until he started telling a story about his band and how he hid an ode to his newborn baby in this one song so as to not be so blatant and cheesy. Then he started singing this song and I realized I had seen this band Semisonic in concert years ago.



On Wednesday, my brother scored tickets to a Clippers game through his work and we enjoyed the luxury of sitting in the suites. Not only do they have comfortable leather seats, they had a catered spread, a dessert cart that visits each suite, and a plasma TV in each suite so that you could watch the Lakers game on TV in between watching the Clippers game live. I don't know if I can ever go back to regular seats again.

I was starting to feel better, so I had a hot dog and some of my brother's chocolate cake. Then crossed my fingers. It was a week of rice porridge so I decided to go big. Luckily my body had called a momentary truce to the war it's been waging on me.

Thursday night was a fun work outing to Universal Studios, where I had the privilege of organizing 20 hapless artists, no sheep, for a screening and dinner with our clients. I honestly do not understand how so many grown men cannot get to a location on time, not get lost, or wander off aimlessly. I imagine this might be how it is to chaperone a field trip for a class of five year olds without extra parents to help out. Luckily no one got hurt, a good time was had by all, and I didn't need to smack anybody upside the head. I know I'm getting better when I have the energy to smack people upside the head.

A Boy

Because life is such that everything is happening at once or nothing at all, there is also a boy to throw into the mix of all the illnesses, the concerts, and overall life events. A boy I mentioned before, whom Wavy has given the new nickname of Captain Attentive instead of Captain 3X. A boy who somehow has already seen me at my worse, sick in my pajamas wrapped in a blanket, raspy voice and all, and brings me vitamins, candy, and a magazine. And still keeps calling. A boy who is happy to go anywhere I drag him to, whether that is a concert for musicians he's never heard of or shopping for a birthday gift for my brother.

It kinda freaks me out.

Earlier this month, I flip-flopped everyday on how much I liked this boy, whether it was even viable (with aforementioned three strikes) and would ask myself questions such as:
If I stopped this thing right now, would I be an a-hole? Yes.
If he were to suddenly go away, would I still be ok? Yes.

Yeah, I've got issues. Some that I didn't even realize I had until now. Trust issues. Check. Abandonment issues. Check.

I was just telling friends how much I was enjoying life lately, being single, not having any boy angst plague me for the past several months. Overall, I've been happy and I can't remember the last depressed spell I've had. I know it can't stay that way forever, but I was hoping I could at least enjoy it a teensy bit longer.

It's the age old cliched fear of being hurt and let down. It floods my brain. Why is this boy so nice to me? He barely knows me. He can't possibly keep this up. This endless stream of considerateness. It's the fear that this only lasts at the beginning before the "icky middle" comes along. The fear that it's all just talk, and this nice guy thing? It's just a front. Mr. DD and that boy who was the one but stomped on my heart sure did a number on me. Because the biggest fear? What if he stops liking me after I've really fallen hard?

It's still too early to tell where this will go, though I see the difficulty of extricating myself already. Could get messy, could be fun.

Dragging My Sorry Sick Ass To A Couple More Fun Things

My body is waging an all out war for me. The actual cold may be gone, but it left a parting gift of continuous coughing that has ravaged my voice. And perhaps some dizzy spells and a stomach virus just for kicks. So that I'm reduced to pretty much eating baby foods like rice porridge, soup, jello, applesauce, and if I'm lucky some bread every other day so that my stomach won't freak out and reject it right back. God I miss ice cream. And pies. And perhaps a big ole steak. At least my lack of ability to go work out will be balanced out by this necessary diet. Pooh.

Despite all that, I still had plans nearly every night this week, including two concerts to attend, concerts that I should have gotten out of to rest, but didn't really want to.

On Tuesday, I joined Sly and the other Banger Sister to see Orange Lights at the Viper Room. Yup, thee Viper Room of River Phoenix's death fame. I forgot how tiny it is. It was a chilly night, walking along the Sunset strip, but I wanted to see Orange Lights because they sound a lot like Coldplay, they could be the next big band, and it was at a small venue. The music didn't disappoint, and hey Sly got free vodka and a press pass to take pictures of the band.

Last night, I saw Swell Season, the band that consists of the two leads from one of my favorite movies of the year, Once. Though I had tickets for general admission floor at the Wiltern, all I wanted to do was sit and enjoy this mellow music. I found seats in the back near the bar but the sold out concert had so many people there, that I often only had a little window between someone's head, under another's person arm, or through the spaces between a couple's necks in order to see part of the band. I even whacked some guy on the arm with my purse when he walked over and stood right in front of my chair. He quickly moved away.

Glen Hasard, the Irish male lead loves to chatter and explain the back story for a good minute or two for each song. It makes him as endearing as Marketa is sweet and cute with her delicate voice. I would definitely watch them again if they decide to continue as a band once the fervor of the movie has died down.

With little sleep and a continually queasy stomach and light head, I went to see the play History Boys at the Ahmanson Theater this afternoon. Luckily Sly drove. The play takes place in the 80's and in between the stage acting, they bridge the segues with black and white pre-filmed sequences set to 80's music like Duran Duran and Depeche Mode. It's a little jarring and strange but overall the play was compelling. It involved things I know nothing about, such as prepping for university in England, all boy Catholic schools, and sad to say, history, one of my poorest academic subjects next to chemistry.

It was a draining week but fun nonetheless. And I wonder why I'm not getting any better.

Emerging From the Quarantine

After not leaving the house for over forty-eight hours, it was time to go outside, have some brunch, shop for my brother's birthday gift, and hit a concert. On Saturday, I joined Sly for another concert at the Troubadour to see Matt Nathanson. He was hilarious, a great performer, and even threw in a couple of fantastic covers. Like this one originally sung by James.

A pleasant surprise was the opening act - Ingrid Michaelson, a cute Lisa Loeb like singer songwriter famous for her Old Navy sweater song, The Way I Am. When she finished a duet with Matt, he patted her on the head. That's how cute she is.

On Sunday, my brother requested ribs for his birthday dinner so we hit Lucille's BBQ. Boy does our family love meat. My mouth waters just thinking about it. We ate at a crazy early hour so that I could continue the birthday festivities by taking my brother to our client's premiere party for the Simpsons.

These clients have been driving me crazy, but the Treehouse of Horror themed party was a brief respite and reward for this project. It took place in a restored cathedral complete with intact confessional booths, featured gambling, a make your own donut station, and waitresses wandering around dressed as Marge.
I wanted one of those blue curly haired wigs, but even the waitresses said they didn't get to keep them at the end of the night. Alas, being sick and all, I was wiped out before the party ended at eleven. After not winning the raffle, my brother and I bolted before the crowds hit the valet parking. But not before my brother swiped me a much coveted devil pitchfork centerpiece.

Sick Like Clockwork

Alright, all the going out is perhaps catching up with me. Or maybe it's the stress of work, though I don't feel consciously stressed. However, my mind does take awhile to catch up with my body when it comes to incurring stress. It doesn't seem like a coincidence though, that around this time last year, with the departure of the other producer, I caught a cold.

It started with a sore throat on Tuesday, some head congestion yesterday, and finally not keeping down food today. I actually had planned on taking the day off to rest, maybe try out Guitar Hero 3, which I just bought for the Wii. What I did not expect was to actually get even more sick today and legitimately be out of commission, too tired to even eat, play my new game or even go out to find my brother a birthday gift for this weekend. The doctor even told me she'd fax me a doctor's note to stay home from work tomorrow! I feel like I'm a little kid in school again.

The Drama of Work

Another one bites the dust. We can't seem to keep producers around very long. It took six months and threats of my leaving on vacation for three weeks in April to get my boss's act together to find this new guy. He lasted only six months. Only half as long as my last work neighbor. Last Friday, they threw in the towel on another person, leaving me with a sense of deju vu from last year.

When they first hired him, my only requirements were that 1) he wasn't a loud person and 2) he didn't smell. He met those requirements and then some. On the days that artists were especially rude or surly, he would turn to me after they walked away and say "your day will get better." He was genial, eager to learn and just an all around decent guy. I even hit it off with his wife right away.

Now, they've given him till Thanksgiving to find another job, citing yet another "not very good fit" meaning he wasn't getting the job done well enough. I can't objectively judge his job performance because the other producer (who is also pregnant again and taking half of next year off) and I started over four years ago, slowly working our way up to these positions, helping to create a lot of the pipeline and structure of this place. I don't know if I could have jumped in and just started managing projects at this place without the appropriate ramp up time for this crazy unorthodox place.

What I do know is that it could get ugly again. Unfairly burdening two people with the work of three again like last October through this March. And with my coworker going on her maternity leave and the need to find an additional person to replace her temporarily on top of replacing the one we're firing, it's gonna be ugly.

My stance? I'm thinking, sure I'll take on six projects! They might not be managed very well and people will likely be getting their schedules on post-it notes, but hey if you're gonna burden me with more work AND turn down my request for a bigger raise after last year's debacle, well it's all about appropriate expectations.

Defying the Constraints of Age

For her birthday this year, my flower bestowing friend decided to rally the troops for a good ole fashioned night of dinner and clubbing in Hollywood. It was something I was looking forward to ALL week. I couldn't even remember the last time I went out dancing - because dancing at weddings doesn't count.

On Saturday afternoon, clad in my slinky dress and boots, I ended up diverted to work for an hour before heading up to Pasadena and meeting the birthday girl. Because I asked her the quintessential girlie question of "what are you wearing?" and she responded with "Ho it up! If not now, when? If not you, who?" I brought an alternate outfit with me. And of course she convinced me to change into the "sexy cute" outfit versus the "chic cute" dress. My friend, she has a way with words.

At the dinner, the birthday girl had an assortment of friends there - friends through the many phases of her life. At ten, half of the group made it down to Cinespace, where we waited for the main dance floor to open up by dancing in the middle room and downing nearly alcohol free kamikaze shots. (They were free before eleven. Couldn't complain.)

By the time we got on the dance floor and danced around a bit, we realized none of us really liked the hip hop music blaring through the speakers. It was down to five of us as we made our way back to the middle room and started requesting 80's hits, Madonna songs, and current pop hits from the compliant DJ. I couldn't stop dancing. It had been too long. It was as if I was also celebrating for my own birthday!

Shortly before one, the consensus was that we were done. One of the few times we didn't close down the club but I didn't mind. I got all my dancing in. Too bad that the tiredness and the achiness started setting in as soon as I stopped.

Though I slept well at the birthday girl's place, we were out for breakfast earlier than my usual Sunday, operating on minimal sleep. It didn't stop me from shopping at H&M for an hour while she got her hair cut. As we hugged goodbye and drove our separate ways to meet our respective families for lunch, I couldn't stop smiling and feeling extremely happy about the weekend. Perhaps it was the endorphins from all that dancing? Or perhaps the appreciation of still feeling young and single and having good enough friends to enjoy a night of dancing - without worrying about significant others, kids, and responsibilities? Could be all of it. However, the pure... awesomeness of this weekend will have to hold me over for a long while until the stars align once again to bring all the tired souls together for another fun night like this.

More! Concerts!

Work hard, play hard. Going out every night has been taking its toll but I sure am enjoying life! Last Saturday, I attended the Silversun Pickups concert at the Wiltern (which is becoming a second home - 3 concerts there in 2 weeks). I haven't grown sick of their hit single but the whole album is pretty good.



The lead singer was a bit screechy at times, but hey, any man who sings at such a high voice is bound to have a tough time occasionally. One friend refused to go to the concert because this whole time, he thought the lead singer was a woman and now his illusion is shattered.

On Wednesday, I went to my other second home, the Troubadour, to see Earlimart with Sly. We got there early enough to see both opening bands, The Pulsars and The Office. I didn't know a single song, but the night was enjoyable just the same. The Office had a pretty catchy song titled "Oh My". If you click on launch office music player on their site, the song is there. They also seem to have an extra band member who really doesn't do much except hit a few keys on the keyboard, shake the tambourine, and look pretty. This gives me something to aspire to.

The next day, we had a work screening of our company's projects and a dinner. I went to the screening but ditched the dinner for the Blonde Redhead concert back at the Wiltern. I hear I missed quite a number of speeches and drunkenness. The concert however, had two encores. This almost sounds comically fake, but the band consists of a Japanese expat chick and a pair of Italian twin brothers. And she's married to one of them. Not sure if it's the drummer or the guitarist. She usually sings the songs in her crazy warbly hi pitched singing voice, but I actually like these two songs. One where the guitarist (who may or may not be her husband) sings and another one where she sings in a slighter lower pitch.





By the time Friday rolled around, I was relieved to sit at home and have my brother bring over take out and veg with me. Sitting around, reading magazines and playing video games together never seemed more fun.

A Month of Concerts

I miss writing. But perhaps it's a good sign that I've been too busy living my life rather than writing about it. That being said, time has been sucked up by work (of course), a new Facebook addiction, tons of concerts, and the continuing celebration of birthday dinners.

Last night, Polar Opposite, Jigaho, a group of other friends and I hit up the Rilo Kiley concert. The Santa Monica Civic Auditorium doesn't have the best acoustics but Jenny Lewis's sweet sultry voice still rang through loud and clear. Though there were eight of us, some chose to make their way to the front of the crowd, some stood in the back and the rest of us lazy old people chose to enjoy the mellow music sitting down way in the back. Inevitably, some tall guy with a big head blocked my line of sight, so I did stand for most of the concert. Sadly, my back started aching. Gotta love the thirties...

Tonight, one of my coworkers had an extra ticket to Jimmy Eat World at the Wiltern. Tired as I was, I'm always game to attend a concert if someone needs a friend to go with. So off I went to another night of music. Luckily, their music is more on the rock side which helped me stay awake. It also helped that we had seats in the balcony and I could still sit and see everything even with everyone standing up the whole time.

Both concerts took me down memory lane as it was the second time I was watching both bands. Both came out with albums and had concerts about two to three years ago, a not so good time for me.

I remember seeing Rilo Kiley for the first time on the night of Halloween 2004, the same day in which I said my final goodbye to the "surly" guy. That night, Rilo Kiley's quirky and poignant songs about bad relationships, such as the song below, couldn't have been more apropos and I've been in love with the band ever since.



With Jimmy Eat World, the Boy loved this band but wouldn't go to the concert with me, citing the excuse that their newer music wasn't as good. Whatever. I ended up going with M. Night and My Favorite Loner, both of whom I sadly and rarely hang out with now. In the end, I actually enjoyed both concerts and felt truly optimistic about where I am at this point in my life. It took that walk down memory lane to show me what a long way I've come.

There will be half a dozen more concerts coming up this month and next - all relatively newer bands I'll be seeing for the first time. It's going to be exhausting but I can't wait!

Stubbornness

Wavy recently remarked that she has never met anyone more resistant to change than me. And my old college roommate, once equated me to a lizard who would rather die, than lose its tail. All kinda true, though it may be more the anticipation of change than the actual change itself which gives me stomach aches.

On a recent visit to the dentist (I still like dentist visits more than work reviews), I asked if my two baby teeth would ever fall out. Yes, I know that sounds weird, but oh so appropriate isn't it? I still have two baby teeth. They won't fall out because there's no permanent tooth for it. So on some level, even my body is stubborn as all hell to change.

"Is this normal?" I asked my dentist, who's known me since I was ten.
"Well, it's not normal- normal. But it's not not-normal either." he replied.

So there you have it. Sums me up in a nutshell.

Birthdaypalooza

No dreams about work. No wanting to strangle anybody. Imagine that. The escape to New Mexico with Ms Flip Flops was just what I needed. For the first two days, we stayed in Santa Fe at this wonderful spa where we got wrapped, massaged, and scrubbed till we were shiny and new. To quote the masseuse, I got a new birthday suit for my birthday!

There were crazy thunderstorms on our first night but downtown Sante Fe was small and quaint, fun to walk through, and you couldn't walk five feet without stumbling over an art gallery. In our room entitled the Rising Moon however, these two city girls couldn't start a proper fire if our lives depended on it. This was just us burning paper. We burned all the starter sticks, threw about 40 strike anywhere matches in there, and burned all the paper we could get our hands on by the end of our stay. Including some of our maps.


For the last two days, we headed over to Albuquerque, coincidentally in time for the first day of the International Balloon Festival. Unfortunately, on the first day, winds were so powerful that the evening balloon glow was cancelled. The Sandia tramway was also closed. So we got some delicious BBQ and called it an early night.

Just in time to wake up at the crack of dawn in the bitter bitter cold to catch mass ascension - when all the balloons rise up into the sky at sunrise. Was it worth it? Well, for the one time, I guess so. Though a hat, mittens, thicker jacket, camera with better zoom lens, and a mug of hot coffee will be a requirement if and when I make it back there.

The 1-2-3 Punch

On Thursday, I finally got my work review. Confusing as hell, another hour plus long yakking session, but this time with a bit of psychoanalysis thrown in. "This is a really good review!" the boss and pseudo HR guy kept telling me. And I wondered, if it is, why do you have to keep telling me that?

When I finally left work, I was too impatient to wait and read the written reviews from all the supervisors. I dangerously read them at red lights as I sped toward the sneak preview for a movie. They were the kindest, most glowing words I've received yet - touched upon in ten seconds in the actual review when they said "everyone loves working with you. You can read that sheet later."

What we did talk about was how I needed to be a tougher leader and confront people right away (versus giving them time to cool off?), how I needed to project more confidence but not try to solve everything myself and not tell the boss everything, and how I needed to control my feelings and jump from being upset to calm within two seconds (I kid you not, pseudo HR guy snapped his fingers to illustrate how quickly he wanted me to turn my feelings around). It wasn't that I wasn't getting the job done - they couldn't find anything wrong with how I was managing the schedules, the budgets, the clients, the team. I had never lost my cool or let rude artists, bad clients, or cruel twists of fate get in the way of professionalism - it was that I wasn't a detached guy like the boss. I care too much. Give myself a hard time when projects aren't running smoothly. And though it was an anomaly, the last week that kicked my ass didn't help things. They kept asking me "how do you feel when..." and by the time the tortuous review was over, I wanted to yell at them. It was invasive. It was almost inappropriate and I wanted to tell them "you can't control how I FEEL. Feelings are irrational and they're MINE. That's one thing the company doesn't get from me!"

On Friday after my headache had subsided a little, I emailed them and thanked both guys for the review and the raise, but asked for more money. It was a first for me, asking for anything. But this year, I honestly felt like I deserved it and explained why. Instead of being honest with me, Pseudo HR guy wrote back and said "Well we were actually going to give you less, but your boss asked to give you more. This is honestly your 'you're kicking ass' raise. And it's not our policy to negotiate raises after we give them to you. Sorry it's not quite what you wanted." WTF? It was less than 24 hours since the review and I never had a chance to ask nor knew of such policies in all my years here. A bogus BS lazy answer which only angered me even more. I thanked the boss and asked them for more vacation time so I could keep up my travels but knew they'd turn it down anyway. I figured I had to ask, if only to get into the habit for the future. After all, I've learned the hard way, no one comes around and just offers you these things.

On Saturday, my trainer had convinced me to sign up for the physical fitness assessment tests at the Y. Imagine something like those fitness tests they made you take in high school. Except now you don't have youth on your side. I failed them all with ratings like "poor, below average, and overweight." I walked out of there stunned and wanted to go home and cry. How could this be? I've never been a skinny girl but I never honestly saw myself as an out of shape fat-ass either. I've been going to the gym and exercising for years - apparently all for naught.

The worse part was the flood of memories taking me back to high school through post college - always seeing myself as this gigantic clod because I was taller and bigger than most Asian girls. The struggle to maintain some kind of healthy image of myself took over a decade and now it's turned on its head once more as I wonder "was I right before in thinking I was a gigantic clod and only managed to delude myself in thinking I looked fine?"

So now I start my first ever diet. Which kinda sucks. And also tougher workouts with the trainer. Which is kinda painful (like tonight. Ouch.). But I have twenty pounds to lose in six months until the next physical assessment test. Which I plan to ace.

The highlight of all these appointments for the past few days? A Saturday visit to the dentist with hygienist staff that I've know since I was ten. It made me feel at home and a little bit better about myself. No cavities since I was 8 and the least painful teeth cleaning yet. If anything, at least I still have good teeth.

Another Fun Quirky Movie

Last week, I managed to walk out of work somewhat early to see a sneak preview of Dan In Real Life with Sly. There are some slight continuity problems, but overall, it was a really cute and funny movie. Everyone laughed out loud just enough, and we could all connect at an emotional level to the characters even if you couldn't empathize with the main characters.

I was never a huge fan of Steve Carell but after Little Miss Sunshine, catching some episodes of The Office, and now this movie, I'm impressed. He's like the next Tom Hanks, Jim Carrey, Greg Kinnear... All expressive with the puppy dog eyes, all comic restraint, and all manchild-like though slightly more man than child in these recent roles.

I love these ensemble cast movies where the chemistry between all the actors are vital to the movie. Just like one of my all time favorites, Playing By Heart (something I've made almost all of my friends watch). The next one I'm looking forward to is Feast of Love. It's about time the giant splashy summer blockbusters are done for the year and we can look forward to the quieter introspective movies they start throwing out from now till Christmas to make the Academy Awards season. That and the new TV season starting, I have more than enough escapist pleasure to get me to 2008.

Do We HAVE To Be Boring Ole Adults?

Brother: You know, a lot of people at our age stop buying birthday gifts for each other.
Me: Uh huh.
B: What do you have, like at least ten close friends you buy gifts for? That's over $300 a year at least.
Me: Um, actually more. And now everyone's got babies.
B: You guys should just agree to stop buying gifts for each other. Save that money and instead of getting something you don't want, everyone can buy something they really want for themselves.
Me: Well that's no fun. Are you saying we shouldn't get gifts for EACH OTHER?
B: No. Just for your friends. What do you want for your birthday anyway?

My brother seems to think we're too old to buy birthday gifts for our friends. Vaj doesn't want to celebrate birthdays anymore. And most people with kids know that realistically, you can't buy gifts for everybody or else you become bankrupt in a single Christmas season. Is this what being a grown-up means? Booooooooooo...

Me? I'm going to celebrate all of next month for my birthday. It's an excuse to see friends, eat well, love and be loved, and be pleasantly surprised. AND, I'm still going to buy gifts for people when I feel like it. Because buying things for other people actually makes me happy. Did I mention how much Christmas excites me? When EVERYBODY gets gifts at the same time? Eight-nine more days to go...

A Sad Whimper to the End of the Work Week

This week, work has soundly kicked me in the ass all up and down Monday through Friday. I still haven't had my review, but maybe it's for the best as god only knows what might come out of my mouth.

Highlights from the work week include:
- Artists on my projects blowing every possible deadline
- Mr. DD in full beeyotch mode, not only being extremely unappreciative but actually giving me attitude about work he's SUPPOSED to do. I'm nor sure if I've ever hated him more
- Making an artist cry (a girl, though it would have been interesting to have made a boy cry)
- Plenty of "what went wrong?" meetings - I'm starting to feel like a failure here...

Now, it's raining cats and dogs. Like thunderstorming. And as much as I love rain, I'm actually still quite frightened of lightning and thunder, a silly childhood fear I never kicked. And I realized I don't know who I could call or if I have anyone in particular to call who could comfort me at this hour. Silly I know, but still sad. I think I'll just try to go to bed early and end this week once and for all.

Suck It Up

Recently, the company decided to recycle all those giant computer monitors and replace them with the swanky new (and less space consuming) LCD monitors. Everyone was also encouraged to bring in their old unused monitors for recycling or donation. As we (ok not me, I just directed the boys to move them in the right place and carry my old one from the car) piled them all in a row out back, the blank screens stared back at us forlornly, some still attached with stickers, personal post-it notes, and other vestiges of former ownership.

One of them had a simple note that caught my eye. "Take the hit and keep moving forward." I had no idea who it belonged to but I wondered about the type of person who lived by this motto. A soldier? A person who pents everything up inside until he implodes one day? And how long do you keep taking the hits before you hit back or sit down and refuse to budge until they apologize? Perhaps I'm overthinking this, but obviously this monitor belonged to a boy.

The annual fall breakdown

It must be cyclical. I have been feeling so worn down and unable to sleep well the past two weeks, plagued by work dreams and a brain that won't shut off long after my head has hit the pillow and the covers are pulled up to my neck.

Maybe it's the weather change. I woke up on Monday and felt the chill in the air and in my head I screamed out in exuberance. "Fall is here!" Unfortunately, it means being chilled to the bone, achiness, swollen glands, and sitting on the precipice of illness.

Maybe it's the stress of the annual work review. Which has been postponed to possibly tomorrow and about a month late. Which I don't even feel up to par for battle as all projects are in full swing and kicking my ass everyday. Not to mention certain artists driving me nuts and not being very nice or appreciative. It hasn't happened in awhile, but today I wanted to cry like a girl for no reason at all as I drove home.

Some Things Come Full Circle

It was a fun and exhausting weekend, logging over 150 miles in my car. There were college friends in town and Ballet Dancer's birthday party unfortunately on opposite sides of southern California.

Vaj threw housewarming party part 2 in honor of some college friends in town. This time I didn't get eaten alive by mosquitoes in his backyard, and it was much more low key. The food however still rocked, courtesy of his mom.

Spending time with one of my old college roommates, my future book club partner, felt like going back to high school days - sitting in our PJ's at our makeshift slumber party in her parent's house. Except this time, one of us is in her 2nd trimester and falling asleep as soon as the lights are out before we can really start talking about the good stuff. Ah well... She used to fall asleep like that anyway.

After meeting Vaj and our friends from NY for a quick brunch in Huntington Beach, I hooked up the Ipod, and prepared for the trek up north to Valencia. An hour and a half later, I was up on a hill, dipping my feet in the pool of Ballet Dancer's boyfriend's house. A swanky seventies style L-shaped home, in which nearly every room has giant windows facing the pool AND there is already a telescope built in the backyard. How cool is that?

At her party, two funny things happened. As I walked in, Dancer's tea business partner turned around and said "we were just talking about you!" Of course, I wrinkled my nose and said "uh, why?" "Work relationships!" she exclaimed. Uh oh. Then I remembered that duh, both Dancer and her business partner met their significant others from work. Of course, the mouse-eared company is much larger and affords many more places to hide when things don't work out - thus my problem with the whole dating at work debacle.

"How would you feel about being set up? I know this really nice guy and he just broke up with his girlfriend...." Well first of all I was flattered because I've only met Dancer's business partner a few times and she thought highly of me enough to play cupid. Then I proceeded cautiously with some questions.

Turns out I know the guy. Met him years ago when I was still at the company. We were friends for about a month or so, and I found it odd that a month into our friendship, after a couple of lunches and emails, he then casually mentioned his girlfriend was in town taking care of him while he was out sick. When I mentioned this to one of my girl friends, she surprised me with flowers at work a week later, with a card that read "Until you stop meeting weirdos, flowers will have to come from me." Not only is it hard to top that kind of sweet gesture, it was also a good tip off that my gut feeling about things being weird was right. I left the company some time later and didn't keep in touch, though I would still see his name in some credits.

Anyway, he and said girlfriend must have broken up, because now cupid is pimping him out. I gave her my card and told her to tell him I said hi. I'm sure he'll remember me. We'll see what happens.

The second funny thing of the evening occurred after most of the guests had left. I had underestimated how tired I'd be and decided not to head out to Hollywood Bowl for the Pink Martini concert, instead planning to close out this birthday party. A couple of Dancer's boyfriend's friends showed up. The very ones who knew Mr. DD. The same hostess who disliked him. When I realized who they were, I caught Dancer and whispered "is that her?!" "Yes!" she mischievously smiled.

When the couple realized I worked in the same company as Mr. DD, they were also pleasantly surprised. And I wondered if the wife put two and two together to figure out who I was from what Dancer had mentioned to her. It was like a game of "I wonder if she knows that I know that she knows. Or vice versa." Fun indeed.

Like Death and Taxes...

It's that time of year again. My annual work review. I enjoy these about as much as I do raisins, prunes, pickles and getting my semi-annual dental cleaning. Postponed twice and nearly a month late, I think it just might happen as scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. I'm not quite as anxious as years past nor justifiably angry. The boss amuses me in a "man, he's such a tool" kinda way. And the artists? Most of them are big babies.

Within 2 minutes of sitting down at my desk this morning, I was harassed by artist after artist in person, via IM, and over emails about what THEY needed. EVERYTHING is a priority. What about what I need? Like my morning cup of tea and some breakfast? Or MY priorities? Like making sure I'm awake and well fed else I bite someone's head off as a casualty of war?

Alright, I kid but only because I've been in a petulant kind of mood all day. I do like most of these people. Even Mr. DD, who is the biggest baby of them all and the one I have to work with the most. (Demented fairy godmother I tell you.) But if any of these people say one bad thing about me in my review, heads will roll...

How to Scare my Coworkers

After a particularly frustrating day of uncooperative hapless coworkers, I started fantasizing about ways to make people listen to me. And after my boss's pre-review critique about my not-loud-enough voice during meetings, the ideas really took off. I don't believe in having to yell to make my point or exude authority. And I cannot win in a whoever-has-the-loudest-voice-takes-over-the-conversation contest. I'm all about speaking softly and carrying a big stick. Thanks to a wicked imagination and some equally creative friends, here are a few ideas we came up with to have more of the artists fear me.

- Carry my brother's samurai sword on my back at all times while walking through the office and checking in with the artists, asking them "Did you fill out your timesheet today? Then you may keep all your fingers."
- Have my old boss from the mouse-eared company come in and pretend to yell at him until he cries and begs for mercy (he's the kooky one who suggested it)
- When everyone is quietly working in that serene moment of the work day, let out a bloodcurdling scream and hurl a notebook through the air clear across the room, then carry on my day as if everything is normal
- Smack one of the guys upside the head without warning when they don't listen
- Go in the back room and practice my boxing or swordfighting skills, complete with yells, which will eerily echo back to the main room

In the meantime, I've decided to just rebel against the etiquette and manners from my upbringing that have constrained me, and just plain be more rude. As in not waiting my turn to speak and interrupting others when they talk, just like all the boys do here at my work. Otherwise, I wait forever for an opening to speak up and constantly get talked over by a louder person.

It felt good to reprimand my boss during a meeting and tell him "hey bossman, I can't talk over your loud jokes. Work with me here!" And pleasantly enough, he stayed quiet for the rest of the meeting. I felt giddy with power when some of the guys started interrupting me and going off on tangents and I said "Hey people! I'm talking here!" and they all turned to look at me in shock, apologized and allowed me to continue running the meeting. The surprise tactics seem to be working. And I enjoy keeping them all on their toes.

Once, years ago during the mouse-eared company days, I started banging my forehead on the desk in frustration. Not hard enough to dent my head or leave a mark, but apparently loud enough to draw the attention of my department. It was probably the only time I remotely had an outburst at that stressful job. They still talk about it to this day.

I Am An Apple K2

On feeling a little glum and left behind from all the weddings and babies coming up

Me: I'm starting to feel obsolete.
UBBF: You are not an Apple K2.
Me: Yes! That's exactly what I am! That's what I'm going to call myself from now on.
UBBF: You are ridiculous. But you are not an Apple K2.

Yeah, we're kinda geeky that way. But that's why I love the UBBF.

A Little Bit of Irreverence

Thanks to half priced tickets off Goldstar Events (I highly recommend this site to everybody!), I dragged my brother with me to see Avenue Q, a satirical look at life after college, struggling to make a living and finding yourself. All done with puppets. Sounds strange, but it works. AND it's hilarious. Though I was fond of Sesame Street as a kid, I wasn't obsessed enough with the show to be bothered by this spoof, including imitation Bert and Ernie puppets struggling with the issue of homosexuality. The first few songs just hook you in right away, with exceptionable titles such as "It Sucks To Be Me," "If You Were Gay," "Everyone's A Little Bit Racist, " and "The Internet Is For Porn."

After the musical, I dropped by Singer's "Summer Party and Come Meet My New Boyfriend" BBQ. I'm not kidding. It's in the evite. I had briefly met him a while back, before Singer and I had gone to the Police concert, but I wanted to see her anyway. Because of dinner plans with the family, I could only stay for a little while. That turned out ok because I knew nobody there. And the people who were there were all her devout church going friends and colleagues.

I'd like to think that I'm pretty open-minded and categorize myself as agnostic, but I have to admit I'm not comfortable with people who repeatedly invite me to visit their church nor with people who mention God every few sentences. (Singer wasn't like that and because the four of us college roommates were all so different in terms of religion, friends, and personality, we got along in our own little world and tried very hard not to impose our own views too harshly on each other.)

Example 1: Singer says to a friend "Wow, you look good. You've lost a lot of weight since I last saw you."
Friend: "By the grace of God."

Example 2: I ask a girl at the table if she went to the same university as Singer and me.
Girl proceeds to tell me that she was always jealous of Singer because she couldn't get into our school. Instead she went to another branch of our public university system and says she wasn't that crazy about it. Then ends the conversation with "Ah, but it was God's will."

Ok, how do you respond to these answers?! Do I say "AMEN sistah!" or "Can I hear a HALLELUJAH?" And I guess it would have been rude to inquire what kind of exercise or weight loss plan that was. As with most things, I decided to smile politely and refrain from talking.

Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

That demented fairy godmother of mine is sure getting her jollies in. On the life changes front, in just one day, the wedding count and baby count each went up by one for next year. And no, those weren't linked together either.

On the boy front, another new person joined our company last month. And I kid you not, he has the same name as The Boy, resembles the one I dated AFTER the Boy in height, lanky build, shortly cropped hair and plethora of tattoos, and hails from the same town as my favorite loner - dubbed the "uber work boy" by Wavy. With the temporary absence of our pseudo HR guy/welcoming wagon, I was asked to show him around and get him set up on my project for his first week. My initial reaction when I met him? "You have got to be kidding me." Though Wavy's parting advice was "Stay away. Like ten foot pole." this one has turned out to be nice and harmless, though separated from his wife and trying to work that out. Yikes.

Because THAT still sounds too simple, there is also someone else. A very sweet, seemingly shy nice guy who asked me out to go hiking. But he's also a part of the influx of new guys at work. AND he's a good friend of The Boy - that's how he got here. On top of the rational and emotional reasons of why this is a bad idea, there is also the shallow one. He's short. Wavy has dubbed this fellow Captain Three Strikes.

Now any of these reasons by themselves I could probably overlook. But all three together? I dunno. It's been a tough one to balance as things swing back and forth in my head.

He makes me laugh by randomly IMing me throughout the week with funny things to say. And he promised to sing me Milli Vanilli songs one day.

Then he mentions how much he misses The Boy and how they used to chat everyday. Erf.

I declined hiking on account of the heat and having other plans over the holiday weekend and he says "ok, you let me know when you are free, whenever you want." When I mention that his project is getting really busy and he seems to have to work every weekend anyway, he replies "No I won't. Anything for whatchamacalit." Awwwww

Then it turns out he's moving in to live with another coworker that I've known since I started there. As if there weren't enough hurdles on privacy as it is. Ack.

He gives me just enough space. He doesn't sit near me and we're not on the same projects (yet) so I can go days without really noticing him. But at least once a week, he'll pop up on the radar with a whimsical comment like "whatchamacalit rocks!" No more. No less. Er ok. :)

If there is a game being played here, he's playing it well. But I'm wary. Wary of ignoring all those hard earned lessons of not dating people from work. Wary of inadvertently letting The Boy back into my life second-hand. Wary of turning another "nice guy" into a jerk. Because that seems to be my gift/curse.

I took Wavy and M. Night's advice to invite him out to a group thing, and decided to have him join our merry crew for the Griffith Observatory last week. But I'm no closer to any decisions. Obviously, I enjoy having someone treat me well and behaves so nicely toward me - I don't take that for granted. But the rational, wary side of me screams so much louder these days.

Mi Casa Es Su Casa

I love my eating out, traveling the world, buy what makes me happy (within reason) lifestyle too much to buy a home. My parents however have hounded me with home ownership as diligently as they've hounded me with business school. So far, I've succumbed to neither plea.

Today, I met my friend M. Night (we call him that because he is seriously M. Night Shymalan's doppelganger, much to his chagrin) for lunch at a cute little bistro type restaurant, Piknic, in Playa Vista. It's a new city that sprouted up in the Westside, touted as the first new community development in LA in over fifty years. There was definitely some careful planning and thought that went into this little village and I was kinda won over by the layout, the mix of residential and commercial space, and the sense of community (even if it was calculated more so than natural).

My dream home if I really had my way includes a porch with rocking chairs, a swimming pool, game room, sound proof room for my piano and a drum set, central AC, and walk in closets. Never mind all the other basics. BUT, all of a sudden, I thought "I would live here." It's brand new, close to the ocean, the temperature is divine, everything I need is within walking distance, freeways are still close enough, AND work is still only ten to fifteen minutes away. If I had to fork over something like four hundred thousand dollars for a one bedroom apartment, this would be the type of place I'd like. M. Night even mentioned that they had a pretty good program for first time buyers. Also, check out all this foolproof technological upgrades they include in every home. Drool...

The catch? There always is... Um, it's built on some crazy hotbed of methane gas AND ancient Indian burial grounds. I'm normally not THE most paranoid superstitious person there is, but that is asking for some seriously bad juju right there. I am NOT down with angry evil spirits, gas explosions, or pissed off environmentalists. Nor should consulting a shaman for the blessing of my home be on the required checklist of "Things a Homeowner Needs to do Before Buying the Place." Guess I'll be a renter for awhile longer.

View From the Griffith Observatory

I read somewhere long ago that one of the best views of the Hollywood sign is from the Observatory, so I always took care to point it out to the friends I take up there and catch a picture for myself. This one came out surprisingly sepia toned as the sun was setting, fittingly old world glamorous.

Life Changes (For Other Folks)

Is it terrible that although I'm extremely excited and happy for my best friend Turtle, I'm also a bit sad that she's now a mother? It must be the year of the golden pig or this age bracket we're in, but babies are dropping from the sky left and right, no less than eight from last month until next February for many good friends.

I honestly do find babies cute and often like friends' babies. I'll even go out of my way to make time for them (unless their babies are especially crabby). I love furry animals and sweet, well-behaved kids, but the best part of the day is going home after a day of playing with them, free to do whatever I want, sleep and eat whenever I want.

That mystical biological urge? It has never struck me. There is a coworker of mine, a tomboyish twenty-five year old married for about a year or so, and she tells me that about once or twice a month, this irrational urge in her body screams out "ARGH! I WANT A BABY!" Otherwise, the rest of the time, she feels fine and knows she's not ready yet. A couple of us (all non-children desiring folks) stared at her blankly, likely thinking "Huh. How odd. And how probably annoying that voice must be."

I'm not sad that Turtle is now "one of them" - our friendship remained the same despite her move up north and getting married. I'm sad more on a selfish, personal, childish level. Her husband may have become her number one priority when she got married, but now there is someone who actually requires her love and attention, patience and presence ALL THE TIME. There is no sharing. There is no compromise. It's not that she doesn't have enough love and care for all of us nor no longer wants to be there for me, it's that there is something so much more rightfully important now that will sap any remaining energy, brain cells, and empathy for all my single girl petty woes. I am trivialized in the face of a helpless blob/bundle of joy. I am jealous of a baby because I can no longer be the one that needs to be taken care of when I need a refuge or a shoulder to cry on. She can no longer be my go-to person because I don't want her to fail.

A nanny will take over the guest room I long ago claimed as mine when they first bought their house years ago. There was once that old list of "What Every Woman Should Know By the Time They're 30" saying that every woman should know where to go when her soul needs soothing. That place was up north at her home.

It wasn't until five days after she had delivered that I knew the baby was here. And that was only because I was borderline stalker-like and calling every couple of days near the end to check on her. When her husband (finally) picked up the phone and apologized for not letting me know sooner, he sounded strangely energetic from a brief adrenaline high, though neither of them were sleeping more than an hour at a time. She was too tired to come to the phone, too tired to do much of anything. I felt very sad that hearing about the whole ordeal made me not want kids even more. And then I felt even sadder when I realized I wouldn't hear from her for a long while, that even though her husband was just being kind and protective, it was very much a "Please. Don't call us. We'll call you."

I worry that on top of the "couple friends" that couples tend to make, she will now have a band of "new mother" friends to turn to for discussion of things I can't possibly understand or relate to. I worry that the stupid biological urge will hit me when it's way too late, like in my forties, when it'll be infinitely more expensive and difficult to conceive, and all my friends will be dealing with teenagers and soon to be empty nests while I wrestle with a newborn and make all new "old mother" friends so I have people to relate to. Or worse yet, I worry that the children-laden friends will secretly shake their heads at me if I'm still flitting about, traveling the world alone, wondering about another man/boy, and thinking "poor thing, she's all alone with no children to treasure in her old age." Most of all I worry that I will lose another dear friend ever so gradually to normal life changes, just like I've lost many others before her.

Rediscovered Love for My TV

Eureka!! I reprogrammed the TV and found all my free HD channels and then some. Take that stupid ole Time Warner and your stupid ass unhelpful customer service. Wish I thought to do this sooner. TV is now living back up to its full potential. Oh it's the joys of the little things... Two more weeks till the new fall TV season and being mindlessly entertained by non-reality shows.

Labor(less) Day Weekend

In a long stretch of no work holidays until Thanksgiving, I thoroughly made the most of the Labor day weekend by mixing equal parts quality time with friends and equal parts sitting around like a log.

On Saturday, a group of us headed over to the newly renovated Griffith Observatory to enjoy the view, learn about space, and in general, hang out with one another for Jigaho's birthday weekend. Getting to the actual observatory is still quite an ordeal - you have to reserve a shuttle time online, drive out to the LA Zoo and park, catch the shuttle which takes you the longest possible way around the park and up the hill to the far end of the Observatory parking lot, and schlep over to the front desk and make sure you get tickets for the planetarium show before they sell out. We ended up staying there for hours until closing time, eating dinner at their little cafe and exploring the all new downstairs area, where you can weigh yourself at every planet's station to see how much you'd weigh, say on Jupiter. (About 400 pounds. Pooh!)

Though the live narrator's voice was extremely soothing while dramatic, I promptly fell asleep through half of the planetarium show per usual, as soon as we leaned back in our chairs and the lights went out. Maybe I'm just a gigantic nerd, but I already knew most of the stuff we were covering from all those astronomy classes I took in college and the gazillion times I read National Geographic's Our Universe cover to cover as a child. Not only did I fear spiders, monsters and the dark as a kid, I genuinely worried about supernovas and the fact that the sun would one day grow large enough to swallow Mercury, Venus and Earth in its path. Never mind that this would occur millions of years after I'd long walk this earth.

After looking at Jupiter and it's moons through the telescope, we headed back down and finished off the night with yummy milkshakes at Fred 62 in Los Feliz. Anyway, I can't wait until the hype of the Observatory dies down again and I can drive up that hill and park right in front whenever I want. I used to do that all the time and take out of town guests up there to enjoy the view and experience a piece of movie history.

On Sunday and Monday I scooped up the cat enjoyed the luxurious AC at the parents' house for the rest of the weekend, making sure to lounge in the pool for a good hour both days. I must admit, I have been spoiled with access to a private pool for almost half my life and I do feel sorry for people who never had one. It's a lot of maintenance, but oh so decadently wonderful on a hot summer day. I managed to step out twice during the weekend. Once to pick up boba teas and club sandwich making ingredients at the market with my dad, and Sunday night for Peruvian food and a movie with Bizarro twin.

Bizarro Twin took me to a hole in the wall Peruvian restaurant in the Anaheim hood, ordered our food in impeccable Spanish and proceeded to discuss ethnic stereotypes, growing up multicultural and our own perceptions of various people we've encountered. Life is never dull having her around and I often laugh out loud much more than usual. We topped off the night by watch the anti-date movie 2 Days in Paris, a movie that throws you in the midst of an angsty relationship for two days. It's directed by Julie Delpy, from the Before Sunrise and Before Sunset duo, and boy does that woman like to talk and dissect every nuance of a relationship to death. Though there are lots of funny moments in the film, we both left the movie emotionally and mentally exhausted. "I don't want to watch all this craziness much less live though it!" exclaimed Bizarro Twin. Good for us, since neither of us are remotely close to being in relationships such as the one portrayed.

On Monday night, I capped off the weekend in the best possible way. Glued to the television for two and half hours, watching the Justin Timberlake concert live on HBO, before heading back to my sauna of an apartment. Now my life is complete and I'll never have to pay to see him live in concert.

Things To Do Until October, When the Fall Season Starts On TV

1) Read. I just finished another book. Curtis Sittenfeld's Prep which is so well-written and captures the mind of a high school girl so eerily, I physically cringed at certain angst filled parts. Not always likable, the protagonist Lee Fiora is the perfect stew of insecurity, confusion, extreme self-awareness, and hopeful yearning to be discovered and loved teenage girl. I don't like the super long chapter format but maybe that's what makes it a page turner. No good places to take a break!

2) Internet stalking. Silly coworkers. They all have personal websites, mainly to advertise their artwork and skills for potential jobs. And they all link their sites to each other. Some even put their blogs and myspaces pages on there. Can't. Stop. Reading. Too fun to snoop....

3) Become a gym rat. Never in a million years did I think that would happen. I've started embracing my trainer's mandate to go in at least four times a week. I think last week, I exercised like six times a week. If I'm not having dinner with friends or have other plans to run at the track or play tennis, I'm at the gym. I don't seem to get home before 9 anymore. Yikes. Sadly, I've lost nary a pound. Nor have clothes magically loosened on me this past month.

4) Sketch my cat. Darn thing never sits still unless I sneakily draw her from behind.

Here Come the Singles - Redux

At our artery clogging fried chicken dinner Saturday night, when Hungry Monster asked me what my "type" was, or what I was looking for, I was seriously and sadly stumped by her simple question the rest of the night. Do I have a type? Do I know what I want? I don't know if I do. I came to the realization that the people I've actually dated are very different from the people I've actually liked. And that sounds kinda bad.

What I mean is that all those boys I've harbored little crushes to intense infatuations on - they've never liked me back. Or at least enough to date me. The boys I dated ever so briefly - they liked me and made the first move. And though I hadn't considered them first but wasn't necessarily repulsed by the idea, I decided to just dive in with a "eh, what the hell" kinda attitude. It didn't mean I didn't get hurt all the same, but it was a different kind of hurt. And that explanation doesn't sound all too great either.

As I sat there, pondering this little conundrum, SC Homey quipped "If Dr. Phil were here, he'd tell you that you need to figure out what YOU want first, before you can go out there and find it." Darn Dr. Phil. I hate it when that pompous whale is right.

Here Come the Singles

Last night, I went along with SC Homey, Polar Opposite and another random friend to a "Singles Mixer" - those parties hosted by very generous, event-planning-loving people. The idea is to balance out the numbers so the one requirement is to bring another single of the opposite sex with you, thus the random friend. Pre-party, the four of us joined Hungry Monster and her boyfriend for some good ole greasy fried chicken dinner at Honey's Kettle Fried Chicken. As we walked in the door, he good-naturedly exclaimed "Hey, it's the singles!" And that pretty much summed up the feeling of the party for me.

I tried, really I did. But I remembered why I didn't like these types of parties and how the last time we went to this particular one a year or two ago, we had left early and gotten some coffee instead. From the get go, I had developed a dislike for the random friend within 5 minutes of meeting him. I am that much of a hater. Luckily, only Polar Opposite picked up on this. (Dammit, I thought I had gotten better at hiding my feelings towards people.)

When we got to the party itself, held in the host's lovely apartment home, I also remembered that yup, I'm still pretty socially awkward when it comes to a crowd of people I don't know, especially when it's a crowd with an agenda and everyone knows why there's a pink elephant in the room.

For the few hours we were there, I did manage to leave my friends' side and talk to a couple of people. There was the fellow animation industry guy who came up to about my nose and turned around to sit down on the sofa and talk to some other more scantily clad girl after we finished out conversation. And there was a very pleasant recording engineer guy, who studied classical guitar, participated in triathlons, but also deemed "possibly gay" by SC Homey.

Halfway through the night, my high school friend, Shrewlady and her boyfriend showed up to crash the party, along with some mutual friends from college. Pleasantly unexpected for both of us, I blew their cover but we all had a good time chatting. It suddenly became just a party where you're chatting with old friends instead of a "singles party" where you're painfully trying to make conversation with strangers and assess if they're crazy.

By midnight, I was ready to leave. (Well, actually the thought crossed my mind to walk home after I was there for fifteen minutes). Of course, the most successful participant of our little group, was the random friend. The one I found annoying and slightly obnoxious? He was surrounded by a group of girls chatting him up, and we had to sit and wait around for him.

At 1 AM , we finally made it out of there and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed, read, and get a good night's sleep. I turned down a late night meal and recap at our local hip diner with the group (much to SC Homey's surprise. She's usually the one who sleeps by 11pm and never stays out late.) and did just that, with no crazy dreams to plague me.

Social Etiquette in the Cellular Age

I ran across this hilarious Helio ad booklet in a magazine and had to share. These are my two favorite pages.The reading between the lines for Coworker... ah it explains so much now....

Heat, Sunset Junction, Old Faces, New Faces

After yet another grueling workout Saturday morning, and a lovely home cooked meal (I started craving fresh food so was forced to cook) I awakened from my nap feeling hot, parched and overall grumpy from my apartment's lack of insulation and air-conditioning. What's a girl to do? I hid out at the neighborhood mall enjoying the controlled climate and temperature until it was time to meet up with Polar Opposite in the late afternoon.

Though I wasn't too familiar with their music, I decided to tag along with Polar Opposite and his ex (since he is my polar opposite, HE actually stays great friends with his exes) to see Blonde Redhead at the annual Sunset Junction Street Fair. "See" wouldn't be an accurate description. We heard their music and maybe I got a brief glimpse or two of how the band looked like when the mass of giants who stood in front of me cocked their heads to the side for a moment. It was nearly impossible to enjoy the concert among the throngs of people packed into these two streets, smoking, talking, milling about just to be there and not for the concert.

It took all my self-control to not just bust out of there and go "guys, see ya later. I can't handle this. I'm gonna wait over there." At first, I was afraid of becoming an old crankasaurus before my time, but felt much better when Polar Opposite and his friends complained of the unbearableness of it all afterwards. Phew. It's not just me becoming more particular about crowds...

I do wish I brought my camera though, as Sunset Junction was filled with the most diverse crowd I had ever seen, along with the most tattooed group of people I had encountered. We were probably unique in that none of us possessed any ink on our bodies.

Out of the blue, in that crazy mass of people, I saw a cute boy who reminded me of someone I once knew at the mouse eared company. And then I realized it WAS that same boy I once knew years ago when I saw his tattoo and remembered clearly how he was the one who started me on this unhealthy fascination with tattoos, the reasons behind them, and the boys who wear them.

I tapped him on the shoulder and said his name. He turned around, answered "yes?" and looked at me blankly. I asked him if he had worked at the mouse-eared company and he said years ago. I told him who I was and he had clearly forgotten. He was back in art school which is what he been saving up to do. I congratulated him on that and he still looked at me fuzzily, comprehending that we had been more than just passing acquaintances with polite conversation, but unable to retrieve that part of his memory. He apologetically explained he had had a few drinks, then said "well I have to find my friends." and shuffled off. His friends behind him smiled at me and moved on. And I thought, "Wow, I'm glad he's doing well and looking good." And then "Damn, my tastes haven't changed in years."

We rounded off the night with dinner at Cha Cha Cha's , a Caribbean restaurant close by, and heartily discussed Polar Opposite's coworker's love life. The coworker had filled his new Iphone with pictures of the girls he was dating/juggling and wanted to get the ex's and my impressions on these potentials. This was fun purely because 1) I didn't him know very well nor any of those girls at all, 2) he had been a serial monogamist all his life and only now dating multiple people for the first time and 3) he was genuinely a nice guy just blessed with a lot of girls interested in him. It was refreshing to not judge, feel bad for the girls as I tend to do, and just be one of the guys, chiming in on whether each one looked like "trouble" or "crazy." Sometimes it does seem easier to be a guy.

Friends For Life, Fifty To Life

Work has swallowed me whole again. And when I'm not working, I've taken up residence at the gym thanks to a trainer I signed up with at the Y. It helps keep me accountable to working out no matter how tired I am. It also gives me an excuse to leave by a certain time after working all day with the bunch of monkeys I'm surrounded with.

Today in particular, I was thisclose to strangling one with my bare hands. And you have to know it does take a lot to rile me up at work. When I vented to Wavy over IM about it, she was ever the resourceful advisor.

"May I suggest rope?" she responded. "I watched CSI and they said using your bare hands would likely leave fingerprints."

I have awesome friends.

Some Things, You Just Can't Shake

Today, 8/8 is supposed to be a lucky day in Chinese culture. But it was a crappy day of work. Which started when I overslept and woke up at ten till 11 after ten hours of nonstop dreaming ABOUT work. I woke up more exhausted than ever.

And then in the midst of all the crappiness, I get this from The Boy who was the one, who moved away, who got married... Second IM this week. Guess he's back from his honeymoon.

Boy: W
Boy: are you going to talk to me any more since I moved?
Boy: :-I

I don't know what to do. It breaks my heart to keep ignoring him though I know I'm invisible to him on IM - yet he keeps trying. It's against my nature to just drop someone without explanation and to be a bad friend who doesn't stay in touch with the other person when they make the appropriate amount of effort. Yet, there's really only 3 choices here:

1) continue ignoring
2) respond back and keep up the charade
3) come clean and explain "Dude, you broke my heart. Do you not get it? Do you not understand that this is a broken, damaged version of me that you keep kicking in the shins every time you want to be my friend?"

Perhaps #3 is a bit too dramatic and unnecessary.

Wavy suggested responding back curtly, telling him that I'm busy with work. (Which is kinda the truth really.) And that after a few times of this, he'd get the message and it would be a natural devolution of the friendship. But that feels mean to me too and also along the lines of being a bad friend. "Arghhhhh!" I want to yell. "Look at what you're making me do!! You're making me into a 'bad friend!!!!!'"

Simpsons Me

On the Simpsons movie site, you can create the Simpsons version of yourself. Or of anyone else you like. Almost as fun as creating Miis on the Wii!

Wavy says that she's seen this exact expression on my face before. Oh, and yes I definitely own red shoes.

We'll see if some of the artists can sneak in the Simpsons versions of ourselves as background characters into our latest project.