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.

Enjoying This Day and Age and More Summer Movies!

It took months, but Princess and I finally finished watching West Side Story for the first time Friday night. It was entertaining, though long, and I don't know why I never watched it as a child. I've certainly seen The Sound of Music no less than twenty times. We were both surprised that the song "Somewhere" was actually from this movie and not Barbra Streisand. We were also quite entertained by the dark pancake makeup they used to make the actors look Puerto Rican. Being raised here in LA as a second generation kid, sometimes I forget how dating outside your race is intolerable and taboo for the older generation and perhaps still in several parts of the world. It just seems so silly to me when you look at the big picture now.

On Saturday, I met Ballet Dancer at the Arclight Theaters. It was my first time there and despite the pain of actually getting through the traffic to Hollywood and the insane parking lot, I would definitely go there again. It's what a movie experience should be - reserved seating, cleanliness, attentive staff who introduce each movie and personally request people to turn off phones and refrain from talking, AND stand in the wings throughout the whole movie to make sure temperature, sound, EVERYTHING runs smoothly. Not to mention a very nice theater with comfy stadium seating, crisp screens and sound buffering from the typical action movie next door.

We watched Becoming Jane, which is right up our alley. However, I'm usually one for happy endings. Though I knew in the back of my mind that Miss Jane Austen died young as a spinster, although a successful novelist, I couldn't help but hope that the movie would give her a happy ending with her true love. Because I'm just a sap that way. I was a bit sad afterwards for her, and again marveled at how horrible it was for people, especially women back then, when money and property meant everything to a good marriage. Again, I take that for granted in this day and age but I also do wonder if I'll end up like her and whether that's so bad?

Finally, on Sunday, after an early morning (ack!) adventurous yoga session with Jigaho and brunch with our friends, a bunch of us caught The Bourne Ultimatum. I've always loved Matt Damon despite the whole dumping of his girfriend on national television (talk about not handling a breakup smoothly) and I loved the Jason Bourne series. The movies are always intelligent, fast paced, intriguing, and fun to watch. This third one in the series is no exception. In fact, I think it's better than the second one because it has more of an emotional hook to it, without losing any of the pacing. Definitely recommended! I hope they make more!

Oh I also caught the movie Sunshine a week ago, a small sci-fi thriller from Danny Boyle- he of Trainspotting and 28 Days Later fame. I was drawn in by the crazy improbable premise, a bunch of astronauts traveling to the sun to deliver a nuclear bomb to the core and reignite the star before it dies out, and by its diverse international cast. Of course, I can't give an accurrate review of it as I saw the last thirty minutes hunched in the corner of my seat with my hands over my face. Erm, I'm a bit of a scaredy cat and though this isn't a horror flick, it's quite tense and some crazy stuff happens as the movie concludes. Still, I would objectively say it's a good movie and if you like that sort of stuff, definitely go support it.

How I Know I Have A Bad Pattern

Me telling UBBF about the 5 Minute Crush , went something like this.

UBBF: So do you see him all the time?

Me: No, he lives too far away.

U: Oh, do you chat with him?

M: Nope, no IMing.

U: Well, do you guys chat at work?

M: No, we don't work together.

U: Oh, well I guess that makes things a little harder. What about lunches?

M: Uh, he doesn't work here.

U: Wait, he doesn't work at your company?

M: Haha, no. Novel isn't it?

U: Ohhhhhhhh.......

The 5 Minute Crush

After spending a whole day with him, I was slightly smitten. He was nice, normal, socially functional... after all this time, I hardly know what to do with a guy, much less a nice normal one. So it was just refreshing to have met him in the first place.

He was a classmate/friend of a friend, so I at least knew he wasn't a serial killer. At a series of parties, we ran into each other. There were sporadic emails. And finally, since I was in his neighborhood last weekend, we met for lunch and I invited him along to a friend's housewarming party.

Throughout the whole day, we chatted. We talked about our families, our jobs, long distance relationships, music, games... Did I mention that he's the only Frenchman I've met that doesn't tolerate smoking, pays for lunch, has wine handy for housewarming gifts, and also plays the piano and played some songs for me? He also managed to make conversation with tons of strangers and enjoy himself at the party. Something I'm not so sure I could do with ease. I was thoroughly impressed.

The first two days afterwards, you kind of hold your breath and wonder, "will he write, will he call?" And then with each passing day, as you see the lack of email from the email address you want, it starts waning. The old me would have conjured up excuses. "He's probably busy with work. Maybe I should write? Maybe it's my turn again?" Maybe he's shy? Maybe he's in the hospital with some horrible illness!" Now, it's more like "OK. Well then I guess we're done here." No use pining. If he was interested enough, he'd make the effort. And really that's all there is to it.

Must Be a Martyr Complex

UBBF recently sent me this article on women who fall for jerks. As entertaining and logical as it was, it got me thinking. Yes, I do fall in some of those patterns, yes I like taking care of people, and yes even if there's a glimpse of hope for salvation, I'll hold onto it like a mouse to cheese. I think I'm getting better at recognizing this and shaking it, but it often led to tough love from other friends.

Such as the time Wavy bought this book for me as a joke Christmas gift, in the waning days of the great Boy depression of 2005. Unfortunately it was too soon and when I unwrapped the gift, I gasped and maybe squeaked, not unlike the sound my old dog would make when one of us accidentally stepped on his paw when he tried to run in between our legs.

I never read the book -it was just too painful - but lent it to several other friends for perusal. It kind of leers at me from the bookshelf, in it's bright obnoxious pink cover. It taunts me and dares me to read it but I'm not sure anymore if it's just a reminder of a bad time in my life or if I'm past being lectured to by some stand-up comedian about common sense. Until I decide what to do with this book and whether I'll ever read it, I moved it to another bookshelf away from my frequent line of sight. And put some cute little toys in front of it.