Dreams in Blue

Favorite Pastime of the Unemployed

2010-04-13T23:11:00.000-07:00

Enjoying coffee at various cafes with friends, especially ones who are also unemployed or have flexible work schedules...

This delicious latte and hot chocolate were from Amandine, a place also with delicious croissants!

Rockin' With the Folks

2010-04-08T18:08:00.000-07:00

When my brother asked if it would be worth it to shell out some bucks for the Paul McCartney concert, I told him it was the closest we'd ever come to hearing the Beatles perform live. Of course YES!

Knowing that the Beatles were our parents' favorite band, we decided to treat them to the concert at the Hollywood Bowl. Somehow we all managed to make it there on time, amidst the horrific traffic and congestion at the Bowl entrance itself. (Over a decade of attending events at the Hollywood Bowl, and yet they still haven't figured out a solution to the gridlock in the area?!)

Sir Paul was so spectacular, he needed no opening band. The man played nearly 3 hours straight, with more than half of the songs from the Beatles repertoire. Wheeeee! At 67, he's older than my dad and in better shape than any of us. He either played the guitar or piano for every song he sang. Did I mention the awesome pyrotechnics?

The former hippies were also all out in full arm swaying glory for his 70's Wings stuff. The best part? When my parents asked my brother, "Why does it smell like skunk out here?"
Replied my brother, "That's not skunk. It's marijuana."

A fun family outing indeed.

Belated Farewells To A Home

2010-03-19T22:28:00.000-07:00

After eight and a half years at my cozy little apartment, the bf and I moved out together to a place more than twice the size of the old place and all the modern amenities. It all happened quickly and in the end it was easier and harder than I thought it would be to move on. It's been nearly 2 months and as with my new years resolutions and all other plans, I'm finally getting around to saying goodbye and acknowledging how important that place meant to me.

I grew up as an adult there. I learned to truly be by myself - alone on weekends, killing bugs I hated, and more aware for my own safety and well-being. I fell in love there, then got my heart broken. I dated guys I probably shouldn't have and had them stay over just because I could. Though it was small, I hosted all sorts of friends there, from overnight visits on my inflatable aerobed to huge parties of over fifty people crammed into the shared backyard space - back when we were all younger and poorer and no one minded sleeping on the floor atop an inflatable mattress or cramped around a firepit in the backyard for a party.

I switched decades somewhat gracefully there and traversed over a dozen countries, all the while knowing that that little apartment would always be the home base I'd come back to. I wrapped up job #1 and job #2 while living there - the only 2 permanent jobs I ever had since I finished college. I made some wonderful friends during my time there, and lost friends I thought would be around for a lifetime.

I met the bf while living there - my first serious relationship. And man did we have fights there. And tears. And kisses. And happiness and incredulousness when he decided to move in to the tiny abode barely enough for one person and a cat. Then more tears when we found out I had cancer.

I managed to cram a lot of stuff into a place with barely any storage space. I slowly shed most of the hand me down furniture piece by piece as I rearranged and refurnished the place several times. I learned to (somewhat) live within my means and accepted that this old place would never completely feel clean to my mother's or my own standards. As the years went by, I'm not sure when it happened, but I started calling it "home" instead of "the apartment" while my parent's home became "my parent's house" instead of "home." It served me well and I won't forget it. I'll miss the cheap rent and rent control, but I won't miss the lack of AC, washer and dryer, and space!

It's All A Sham

2010-03-06T00:19:00.000-08:00

A knock on my bathroom door as I finish brushing my teeth. The bf peeps his head in.

BF: I want some cookies.
Me: Um, ok. You want me to bake you some?
BF: :)

I wander over to the kitchen and whip out the frozen Otis Spunkmeyer cookie dough from Costco.

Me: You know, you can bake these yourself too.
BF: ???
Me: They're precut. You just plop them on the cookie tray with parchment paper.
BF: That's it?! And here I thought you baked them from scratch every time! I thought you were slaving over them.
Me: Uh no.... How did you think I was able to bake them so quickly every time?
BF: It was all a lie!

Rocking Your World and Then Some

2009-12-26T18:14:00.000-08:00

Has this been the longest I've gone without blogging? I don't remember anymore. I swear to you, brain cells are dying off quickly as I type. There is a good reason for that and let's just say 34 has, well, kinda sucked. So much so that I've decided to devote an entirely new blog to that reason, over here.

I don't plan on completely abandoning this blog, but writing will be a bit sparser for the next half year to year. This blog is still my baby, and I'll update with stories and random thoughts as I see fit. In the meantime, as the new year comes upon us, I'll have to come up with new resolutions! Whoo hoo... I tend to do them around March but maybe this year I'll do them on time.

My latest thoughts as the bf and I have a lovely post Christmas spat over yet another lame reason... we have these crazy neighbors who don't seem to care that there's no sound proofing between our adjoining bathrooms. They have no qualms about cursing at each other horribly and calling each other names when they fight (which is at least once a week or more). I believe there were objects thrown near someone's head once. So much negativity. We often wonder when something bad will really happen. Often times, I want to leave an anonymous note to the she-neighbor and say "You can do better. Leave him." Or sometimes, the bf gets really fed up and just wants to yell "Shut the F UP!!! We can HEAR YOU!"

On the flip side, the bf and I are so paranoid about them hearing us, we're very quiet. Even when arguing. Or at least I think so. At least there's no obscenities hurled at each other. Even so, I wonder if they can hear us. And I wonder if they think the same things, like "why are those people together?!" God I hope not.

Chest Deep in the Mid Thirties

2009-10-04T16:00:00.000-07:00

It's my last day of being 33 and I spent more than half of it NOT working. heh heh... Unfortunately I also spent half of 33 being cursed with an undiagnosed illness which hopefully will be diagnosed next week when I'm 34. Huzzah.

I decided to pamper myself with an overpriced pedicure today but already managed to ruin it by stubbing my toe two minutes into shuffling around at home. That's me, Miss Twinkletoes.

The BF is also now unemployed, as today was his last day of work. He's napping soundly right now after weeks of long hours. At least we're going to Disneyland tomorrow! Wheeeee.....

All in all, a pretty quiet birthday eve thus far. I will continue to navel gaze and reflect on 33 and ponder what life has in store for 34 throughout the week!

Driving Encounters

2009-09-30T21:33:00.000-07:00

As I drove to yet another doctor's appointment this morning, I was stuck behind this behemoth of a vehicle. This Mercedes Sprinter was the height of two sedans stacked on top of one another, but the length was still about van sized. I kept wondering how it doesn't just tip right over every time it makes a turn. Dumb looking car. It also managed to block my view of everything in front of me, but just short enough to not block out the sun. Grrrr....

Encounters

2009-09-29T17:49:00.000-07:00

Most afternoons, you'll find me at coffee houses these days, just so I don't sit at home and stare at the wall for hours. I may be good at not turning on the TV during daytime hours, but for some reason, staring at the wall seems to be ok.

Last week, I stopped by Tanner's Coffee after picking up my car from the mechanic down the street. It was an especially sweltering day and the internet was down at home. An iced latte at a (hopefully) air conditioned coffee house sounded perfect.

Unfortunately, Tanner's declined to turn on the AC and mainly relied on ceiling fans. Hey, at least there's still free wi-fi I thought, as I unpleasantly stuck to their leather couch. And then there was the guy sitting in front of me, with his bare feet propped up on the coffee table as if this were his personal living room. At least I can't smell him and he's not bothering me I thought, as I moved my coffee to the farthest edge of the table away from his feet.

Barefoot guy finally left after half an hour and a pleasant young man sat down instead.
"What do you do?" he asked me, though I had made no eye contact and was staring straight at my computer managing three IM chats at the same time.
Since he did seem like a pleasant young man, I made polite conversation while continuing to type away at my computer. I learned he was of Lebanese descent and an aspiring architect. Nothing screaming Stranger Danger! I continued to go about my business and let the conversation lull.

"You have pretty feet," he suddenly commented. Well that got my attention. I looked up and because manners have been so ingrained into me, I politely thanked him. Then made a mental note that actually, I really needed a pedicure and the guy must be blind. Five minutes later, I finished my coffee, peeled myself off the leather couch and bid farewell to the pleasant young man with the foot fetish.

The Never Ending Virus - In Which I've Now Become a Drug Addict

2009-09-03T16:37:00.001-07:00

SO, it's been 6 MONTHS since I got that little cold back in March. 5 MONTHS since they diagnosed me with sub acute thyroiditis.
It's never good when your doctor calls you a "medical mystery." It seems that after two weeks of steroids, my thyroid continued to stubbornly be inflamed. That was over a month ago. As a bonus, I suffered from withdrawal symptoms at the end of those two weeks - fever, extreme cold, and nausea for days. Those few days of suffering made that day of taking Vicodin a fun little jaunt in the park.
It was back to the primary care physician who took a look at my even more swollen thyroid, lymph glands and bright red itchy neck and prescribed giant horse pill sized ibuprofen, Zantac to prevent my stomach from bleeding as a result of all that ibuprofen (yikes!) and then a Claritin for the HIVES that were apparently afflicting my neck as a result of all that irritation and inflammation. Does it ever end?
Everything seems to only stifle the pain and some of the inflammation, but nothing is FIXING it. My regular doctor shot down my request to continue with the herbal drinks from the acupuncturist/herbal doctor. However, two weeks of six pills a day did not do the job. Back to the endocrinologist who suggested a higher, longer dose of Prednisone. And a huge promise to taper the dosage down a lot slower so I wouldn't feel like dying when I got off the drugs.
Here I am three weeks later, still on a dose so high that my brain is speedy like a run-on sentence, singing songs, planning my schedule days ahead, worrying about every little minutiae... mainly during the wee hours of 12am-3am when I'd really like to sleep. When I tried to taper down after the first week per the doctor's plan, I could feel it. And then the chest pains started whenever I didn't make sure to have a steady stream of the medicine in my system. An hour late with the pills? Feels like someone punched me in the chest. So now I call every Monday to let him know how I'm doing (nothing changes, glands still swollen!) and he just keeps me on this dose.
I asked him a few weeks ago "What if this just doesn't get better?" Both he and my primary physician never even saw it as an option. "It'll eventually get better. It's just taking a lot longer than normal."
Last week, I decided to be more persistent. "I'm getting very frustrated. It doesn't seem like I'm getting any better no matter what medicine or dosage I'm taking. What happens if it doesn't get better and how long do we do this?"
Again the endocrinologist was not fazed. "We can stay on the Prednisone longer. We can do this for a few more months. The last resort is to remove your thyroid. But since it's surgery, that will be a last resort." This means having to take synthetic hormones for the rest of my life. I'm not really happy with the options.
Here's the kicker. For some reason, they only have Prednisone at a certain dose and only allot a certain amount of pills for each prescription. I'm not sure if it's the pharmacy's policy or my insurance policy. I have to take four pills a day and I need a refill every 2 weeks. Insurance only allows monthly refills. Imagine my displeasure when I went to the pharmacy Monday night to get a refill only to be told I didn't qualify for one until five days later.
All I could think of was how bad the withdrawal had been when I tried to stop taking the steroids at the lowest dose. To suddenly be cut off at the highest dose? Someone might have to die. And it might be me.
Hearing myself tell the pharmacist that I needed these pills tonight and that there would be WITHDRAWAL, felt like a new low in my life. Luckily, the lady took pity on me and called the insurance company to sort it out. And luckily, there was someone with power who still took calls for Blue Shield at 11:30pm on a Monday night to allow me to pick up these pills. When I got home and told the bf what happened, he looked at me sadly and said "Probably didn't help that you had dark circles under your eyes."
After much pressure from the parents and the bf, I'm currently seeking a second opinion. We'll see what happens...

How To Know You're Not Ready For the Next Step

2009-08-30T23:49:00.000-07:00

I was uncomfortably navigating the aisles of Babies R Us yesterday, looking for that hilarious Wee Block for a friend's baby shower. All of a sudden, a toddler came rushing toward me, arms waving in the air and yelling like a wild banshee. I looked over and almost ran. Instead, I flinched. As if the kid could hurt me in some way. I couldn't get out of that store fast enough.

Thank goodness there's no pressure for rugrats yet...

My Thoughts Exactly...

2009-08-20T17:18:00.000-07:00

I love bunnies. I love cartoons. I love this song. And as for the subject matter, so apropros. Sigh. Enough said.

Things You Don't Think You Need...

2009-08-17T17:34:00.000-07:00

Until you actually need them.

This ranks up there as one of the best inventions ever. I haven't personally been sprayed by a wee baby boy, but I've heard stories of those unexpected fountains. Hopefully my cousin will be getting plenty of use/blockage from this cute little gift.

When I showed my brother, he was horrified.
"Dude, if a kid sprayed me while I was changing a diaper, I'd be like, 'I'm OUT! That's it. No mas."
My sentiments exactly.

The "Force" and My Hair

2009-08-15T01:14:00.000-07:00

In an effort to save some money while being on the dole, I've started hitting up the library and borrowing books (despite my slight OCD about those books being "dirty" and offering to repair a few of the worn paperbacks I got), holding off on purchasing a new luscious Macbook, eating at home much much more, and attempting to redye the blue streaks in my hair without the help of a licensed professional.
All I can say is that before I started getting my hair professionally dyed years ago, I once attempted to do it myself at home. How hard could it be, I thought? There is still more blue dots all over my bathroom than there ever was on my hair from that attempt.
Anyway, on my last visit, I convinced my hairstylist to sell/give me the leftover professional blue dye so that I can try quick touch ups at home to save money. And, I'm a teensy bit ashamed to say that I swiped a pair of disposable latex gloves from the doctor's office this week after my umpteenth visit (more update on that later), figuring the copays I was forking over should balance it out. After carefully applying the blue dye on the front two segments of my hair, and folding it up in foil like I'd seen my hairstylist do, I managed to get very little dye on any other undesired surfaces. Success!!! As I walked out to the living room to grab a drink and wait for my hair to dry, the bf looked up and stared at me with the two patches of foil on each side of my head.
"You look like a metallic Princess Leia," he remarked sweetly. Star Wars reference. Double success!!!

Cupid's Cruel Arrows

2009-07-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite indie movies this summer has been 500 Days of Summer, which actually warns you that "this is not a love story."

The tag line: "Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love. Girl doesn't." Ouch. This kind of thing happens everyday, right? But rarely do they make a film highlighting this very common and painful phenomenon in such a unique yet matter of fact way.

I don't want to ruin the movie, but let's just say I could identify with the protagonist in the story. You think everything's going well. You want to believe it's going somewhere despite some obvious red flags. (Well at the time, the flags appear more like pale pink until hindsight adds a richer hue.) You want so much for your love to be enough for the both of you, but it's just not - leaving you with a sense of loss, confusion, anger, despair, and the eternal "WHY?!!!"

I wanted to hate the girl in the movie. She was so cool and too cute. However my friend pointed out that the girl was always upfront with the protagonist. He simply got too emotionally attached. The story is also entirely from the boy's point of view. We never get her side of the story or her perception of the relationship. They could probably remake the movie entirely from her point of view. It would be an equally interesting film but I doubt it would affect as many people in terms of connecting with that universal sense of heartbreak.

The beautiful thing about the film is that it resolves things much like life does. It doesn't necessarily end up the way you want, but it opens up other possibilities and you simply move on.

Anger Issues

2009-07-28T23:32:00.000-07:00

Don't judge me but I did something bad the other day. I keyed some woman's shiny silver Benz. Just a little bit.

I've always wanted to do something like that, talked about it many times after several encounters with rude drivers. But it was always just talk. That day, something snapped inside of me. Maybe it was years of frustration with doing the right thing and feeling that life was really just that unfair. Or maybe it was some latent rebellious streak striking out at the one millionth customer. Who knows. I think I'm just going to blame it on hormones.

Let me back up and explain. I was at one of those ubiquitous Chinese shopping plazas near my parents' house, stopping off to run an errand. I waited patiently for a couple to get into their car and pull out of their spot in the busy parking lot, my signal light flashing for all to see. Unfortunately, as their car pulls out, a shiny silver Benz pulls forward from the other side to take their spot. Completely irrational as she had a spot on the other side - no need to pull forward like that, especially as I was waiting there, gesturing to her to indicate this fact. Instead, the beeyotch stares at me, then shuts off the car and ignores me. To top it off, someone else has already pulled in behind her to take the other spot so that I'll have to continue to circle the lot.

After I found another spot, surprisingly near her car, I couldn't help sticking out my key near my hips as I brushed by her car. Call it a moment of devilish weakness as my id took over and knocked the ego over its head momentarily. She'll probably never notice it and likely has more than enough money to buff it out. She fit the mode of middle aged spoiled Asian housewife. Yes, sometimes the stereotypes are true. Asian women can't drive. Asian drivers are rude. And women are crazy. Especially nicely repressed Asian women. Have a nice day!

Young Love

2009-07-14T16:33:00.000-07:00

As I sat here torpidly on my couch trying to move as little as possible, a young couple just walked by arguing. I missed most of the argument, but this is what I caught from the oh so eloquent boy as he skateboarded by with his girl.

"That's what I was trying to explain to you and your thick ass f***in skull!"

*Mental note to self, do not use this line while fighting... Wonder if they'll last...

It's All About Me

2009-06-26T23:47:00.000-07:00

I've become one of THOSE people. I have an armada of individuals focused on my health and well-being, like those crazy old rich ladies. Except that I'm not rich nor hopefully crazy and old.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my doctors and health care network. They check up on me, squeeze me in for appointments when I'm not feeling well especially often as of late, and for the most part don't ever make me feel like I'm constrained by the limitations of an HMO. All of them are worth the long drives and worth every penny.

But as I was counting how many different people I have in my heath care rolodex (physical, mental, and emotional well-being), I felt a bit self-indulgent:
1) Primary care physician
2) Nurse Practitioner/gynecologist
3) Dermatologist
4) Dentist
5) Podiatrist (only once every 3 years)
6) Endocrinologist (he's new, thanks to my ill tempered thyroid)
7) Masseuse (she's also become my friend, that's how much I love seeing her)
8) Chiropractor (also new thanks to the pain of swollen thyroid thrashing my head and neck)
9) Psychologist (thanks to the stresses of my old job, though tapering off)
a) Hairstylist
b) Brow lady

I put the last two separately since they technically don't contribute to my health. However, I believe that they contribute to my emotional well-being to look decent and feel good and should be considered part of Team Whatchamacalit.

I briefly considered adding an acupuncturist/herbal doctor to the team when I was desperate for anything to make my head and neck feel better from the thyroid. That has been put on hold pending how the drugs do their job over the next week and a half! Until then, holding strong at just under a dozen folks on the propping up of Whatchamacalit.

The Never Ending Virus - The Bug Lives On...

2009-06-22T22:46:00.000-07:00

"Guess what honey? I'm gonna be a dude!"

Thyroiditis - the itis that never ends. After a good month of Advil taking and slight improvements, the obstinate thyroid of mine took a turn for the worse about two weeks ago. It became flaming hot itchy and started swelling up again, just in time for a road trip up to San Francisco.

Back to the endocrinologist, who prescribed me steroids this time. Prednisone, which is supposed to be a super powerful anti-inflammatory drug that they use as a last resort for stubborn inflamed things. Apparently athletes use it. Then die at like age forty from heart failure.

The doctor gave me five days worth, hoping it would knock this thing out of my system for good. But as soon as I started tapering off the pills last weekend, my neck started swelling up again and the annoying itchiness came back. Back to two more weeks of super duper steroids!

So I don't think it's the type of steroids that'll make me a dude, but it was still fun to say that to the bf. Here's crossing my fingers that two weeks of 'roids will finally do the trick and kick this thyroid's ass.

Walking in LA

2009-06-11T15:22:00.000-07:00

No one walks in LA? I try to but sometimes it's just not convenient. Yesterday, however, I spotted two very odd people walking around in LA.

1) A bum in Marina del Rey holding a sign "Spaceship broken. Need new parts." I give him points for humor and creativity.

2) A white dude sporting a Manchurian Ching dynasty style braided queue. Seriously, the dude had most of his head shaved except for the spot of long hair in the back braided down his back. I thought he was also a bum at first but then realized he was a semi-normal dude waiting at the bus stop. Also props to him for creativity and bringing back the look of Chinese males from the late 1800's/early 1900's.

Slackers, Generation X, Y, Z, or the Funemployed. Call It What You Will

2009-06-03T22:46:00.000-07:00

To all those people who keep asking me in that disdainful tone of voice "So... what is it that you do all day?" or "are you looking for a job yet?"

Dude, I'm just part of a national trend. Suck it.

My brother's retort? "Lazies."

Instead Of Greener Grass, Maybe It Might Be Browner, Yuckier Grass?

2009-06-02T23:29:00.000-07:00

The bf and I still bicker. Mostly over little stupid things. New things. Sometimes big things. Often cliched coupley things. Then there are the unique things only to us. Being that we're both neurotic, stubborn, impassioned people, it makes for some drama.

The other week as I was driving home from visiting the godchildren, I put on an old Garbage CD for the long drive and "A Cup of Coffee" came on.

This was the song to describe the utter depths of despair I felt during the dark periods of pining over The Boy. The days of crying on my living room room in the afternoon. And then I thought, hey things could be a lot worse. At least, I'm not going through THAT anymore. At least THIS boy loves me back. Hindsight. 20/20. Blah blah blah...

A Letter From My Goddaughter

2009-05-26T19:59:00.000-07:00

My goddaughter handed me this card before I left for the day, with clear instructions to not open it till I got home. She even tucked it into my purse for me as a special surprise.You should click on the picture and see the letter for yourself because I can't do it justice. It's a combination of her curiosity, randomness, and cuteness all rolled into one. Them eight year olds sure are smart. And listen in to everything you talk about with their parents...
In case you can't read the letter very well, here's what it says:
Dear Auntie (Whatchamacalit),
Sorry for not writing to you for a long time. I am glad you came. Why did you want to get lade off.
Love, (Sweet, curious, eight year old goddaughter)

Little Girls and Basketball

2009-05-24T15:13:00.000-07:00

After a six month absence, I was on track to becoming a deadbeat godmother. Yesterday, I finally spent a day with my second family, starting with attending my goddaughter's basketball game around noon.
I used to love watching my younger brother's soccer and basketball games when we were kids. What better than watching a horde of little kids run around in circles, while frustrated adults try to instill concepts of offense and defense to an audience more concerned with what flavor Gatorade juice drink they'll get after the game?
I forgot how intense parents and coaches can get. It was an Asian league, so the parents were relatively subdued compared to the games I grew up watching. However, the coaches were yelling things like "BOX THEM OUT, ladies!" "Find a man! "(to guard presumably... or else we'd have a whole slew of other issues going on.) All I could think was Dude, they're SEVEN. Just chill. I mean the final score was something like 12 to 6 and the basketball was bigger than their heads. One little girl let out an "URGHHHHH!" every time she hurled the basketball into the air to attempt a basket. Actually, I think it helped her because she was the leading scorer for the opposing team.
In the end, my goddaugher's team lost but they did have fantastic snacks. Seaweed wrapped rice with egg and ham in the middle. Japanese snacks sure beat American ones. At the game, I also bonded with my 4 year old godson by playing video games on our IPhones together. That kid can work his dad's phone better than I know how to operate mine.
By the time we got back to their place, it was pathetically group nap time for the adults while the kids played on their own quietly. I remember when it used to be the other way around. Gosh they're growing up fast.

The Never Ending Virus (Beat That You Stinkin Swine Flu!)

2009-05-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

Maybe it's because I'm getting older or maybe it's my body's way of going F YOU!!!!!! for putting us through the mental hell of the past year, but it's getting completely out of hand how long it takes for me to recover from any illness. As luck would have it, the second week of my freedom started with aches and fevers, and I'm still suffering the aftermath three months later. Just so I have a documentation of my own and partially to answer the question that everyone keeps asking ("So what is it that you do everyday?"), I've pretty much been sitting on my ass half the time, too achy and tired to do much more than stare at the wall, stare at the ceiling, stare at my computer, or stare at a book.

Week of Mar 3 - I hitch a ride up to SF with a friend moving up to Pixar and spend a week up there visiting friends

Week of Mar 10 - I'm about to begin my fun and exciting life of leisure, starting with hitting up the free museum day at the LA County Museum of Art but I wake up feeling like someone took a sledgehammer to a giant slab of concrete laying on top of me. Sore throat and achiness ensue, culminating with a mildly irritating cough by end of the week. Figuring the cold had run its course, I go on a snowboarding trip to Mammoth that weekend since we had already planned a trip with friends. SO much fun! And yet such a bad idea. I come back with bruises so big, it looks like I am an abused woman. And the coughing turns into full blown hacking.

Week of Mar 17 - Snowboarding trip turned my cold into a nasty upper respiratory infection and I need inhalers and all sorts of medicine to help me breathe and sleep at night. :(

Week of Mar 24 - I am a glutton for punishment. And greedy to live this life of excitement, whimsy, and leisure. I was starting to get better but decided to go on a last minute trip to Belgium. Poor homesick Wavy had been working out there for two months. All I had to pay for was the flight which was dirt cheap. Hotels, most dinners, taxis, etc were comped by her so I couldn't say no, could I? Unfortunately, Belgium and France during late March is quite cold and rainy. "Wow," Wavy gratefully tells me, "I can't believe you came all the way out to visit me even with having something akin to the consumption."

Week of Mar 31 - I come back to LA, almost as sick and tired as I was when I first went to Belgium.

Week of Apr 6 - Starting to get better, weaning myself off all the inhalers and medicine and lo and behold by the end of the week, I notice that my throat is all swollen and tender to the touch. WTF?!!

Week of Apr 13 - I go to the doctor yet again, but my usual physician is on vacation. Her sub sends me for x-rays, ultrasounds, antibiotics, cough syrup with codeine, and muscle relaxers for my swollen thyroid and to kick that cough's ass once and for all. Cough's ass is kicked but thyroid still swollen as ever.

Week of Apr 20 - Back to the doctor to see my usual physician for a follow up and for them to draw blood. Four vials full!!!! Argh. Yup, your thyroid is inflamed, she says. Take some Advil for the achiness and come back in 4 weeks for another blood test to see how it goes.

Week of Apr 27 - Apparently all my blood work indicates that I am healthy as a horse except for slightly high white blood cells and platelets, indicating possible infection. Thyroid is swollen, and my neck and head so achy I decide to chop off some hair on my head to alleviate some of the pressure from my noggin.

Week of May 4 - Nothing has changed at all. I call the doctor again to gripe about the fact that nothing has changed and I'm still in pain. Her nurse calls back telling me that they've prescribed Vicodin and that I can come back this week for another blood test just to see what's going on. Also, I'm getting a referral to the endocrinologist. Too chicken to try the Vicodin or even pick it up from the pharmacy. But I go back for the blood test where they proceed to take yet another four vials of blood! Ack!

Week of May 11 - Fed up with the lack of progress on this swollen thyroid business, I pursue a more aggressive form of treatment. I schedule an appointment for a chiropractor to help with my neck, call the doctor's office everyday until I can squeeze in an earlier appointment with the endocrinologist this week, and decide to try the Vicodin since I'm feeling particularly achy. I'm not quite sure how people get addicted to this stuff, because even though it was as if my body miraculously never felt pain EVER, I am so nauseous that I pass out for two hours and still lose my lunch after the nap. For the next four hours or so, I can only stare at the wall for fear any movement would add to that nausea. Back to the Advil please...
Ironically enough, I notice some improvement the next day and I know by the time I see the chiropractor on Wednesday and the specialist on Friday, they'll tell me nothing is wrong with me. Such is life.

Week of May 18 - As suspected, nothing much is wrong with me. Yes, my back and and neck are very tight and could use a massage everyday. My thyroid is still slightly swollen and achy. I still take an Advil or two each day. The specialist confirmed that it's just thyroiditis. (Kinda like bronchitis, but it's the inflammation of the thyroid versus inflammation of the bronchial tubes.) It can happen after a particularly nasty cold or virus and takes several weeks or even months to fully recover. Probably just in time for me to have to start working again. Oh, what a life of leisure and excitement...

Kids, Artists, and Herding Cats

2009-05-15T22:54:00.000-07:00

This week, I had the privilege of visiting my cousin and observing her teach her 3rd grade class. It's been a long time since I've been around a group of kids, and even longer still since I had a taste of teaching eight year olds. While it was tons of fun to relive 3rd grade and see how everything seems so magical and wondrous through their eyes, the visit left me thinking that things don't change too much as adults.

Similarities between managing a bunch of artists and managing a bunch of eight years olds:

1) You have to keep an eye on them. Or else they wander off and do their own thing. Seriously, it's like herding cats. It was always an effort getting more than three artists together for a meeting in one place at the same time.

2) They need a lot of attention. One kid came up to me and proceeded to show me the contents of his backpack, including a disposable plastic poncho and a pen that folds up and lights up. One of the artists once accused me of not paying enough attention to her in terms of producer/artist ratio of time. Wha???

3) They need a lot of validation. The kids continuously came up to my cousin's desk to show her their work in progress and ask repeated questions. And she patiently smiled at each of them and offered up encouraging words of praise. I have to say the same kind of grin shows up on my coworkers' faces when you tell them they're kicking ass and way ahead of the other guy.

4) They try to get away with stuff. Two of the kids tried to hide their math tests and not turn them in. Much like artists who try to lay low and hope that people won't notice that certain things weren't done.

Differences between managing a bunch of artists and managing a bunch of eight years olds:

1) Hopefully, you get paid more to manage the non eight year olds

2) Most of the time, you can outsmart the eight year olds.

3) You're still physically bigger than the eight year olds. I guess if all else fails, you can pick them up and hurl them? Er, transport them elsewhere like the principal's office?

I may need a return visit for research purposes soon!

Swine flu masks and you

2009-05-13T16:31:00.001-07:00

Really? Surgical masks preventing you from infectious diseases as fashion statements now? Why not, right? The other day as I drove down Sawtelle for lunch, I spotted two businessmen in suits walking down the street wearing surgical masks. Only one of them had his pulled down a little bit so that he could SMOKE his cigarette. I really really wanted to pull out a camera and take a picture of those two loons but alas, a traffic jam would would have ensued.

On another swine flu related note, this has been my favorite quote so far. I'll be attending a wedding in Mexico later in July and here is a lovely update from the bride-to-be.

"Hi everyone!

I hope this email finds you all excited for Mexico!! Seems like our destination area has been in the news lately, but I have spoken with my wedding coordinator and she says that no one in the area has gotten sick and that the risk is very low. I'm sure you were thinking the same thing but just to reassure you. My dad says everyone in Mexico will either be dead by July or the virus will be gone, so there is nothing to worry about. Spoken like a true doctor."

The Layoff (aka Divorcing the No Good, Lying, Cheating SOB That Was The Company)

2009-05-11T21:24:00.000-07:00

In the end, my slow departure from The Company unfolded like a soured marriage.

First, there was the crying. Oh god, the nonstop crying and the self-doubt and the whole thinking that I was slowly going crazy, failing as a human being. (See blogs from Sep-Nov 08) It seemed that no matter what I did, it wasn't good enough. I was sinking under the weight of too much work. I pleaded for outside help, and The Company said we know you're under a lot of pressure, yes, we're trying our best. I asked for a break, and The Company said ok, a day, two days? Try a month...

Then, came the realization. There were new people coming in, but they weren't here to help me. WTF? A review came a week later - we don't think this is working out. You seem stressed and don't appear to enjoy your job, they told me. It was a slap to the face and a big fat It's not us, it's you. We still love you and want you around, but maybe at a different capacity - not necessarily LESSER, just different. In other words, you're still head wife and we appreciate your loyalty and experience, however there will be some mistresses coming in to relieve you of some "ahem" duties.

Like a couple with an imminent divorce, still sharing the same house... Trying to play nice until I could come up with a viable Plan B... With the added humiliation of everyone knowing he had cheated on you, giving you those helpless looks of pity. God forbid anyone would have spoken earlier to warn you. It's easier to be an innocent bystander. But is anyone really innocent when they knowingly watch injustice go down and twiddle their thumbs?

The stubbornness kicked in. The Libra in me struggled for fairness. I thought, I'm not leaving till I damn well want to leave, on my terms. Everyday is another day I get paid. Quitting is just what you wanted so I'm not giving it to you.

Stubbornness wears on you. Watching all the oblivious people fawn over your former love wears on you. Most of all, being in a place where you're not wanted or appreciated anymore REALLY wears on you.

Plan B be damned. When I finally had enough, I knew. I confronted The Company with their shenanigans and asked for what was fair - unemployment and severance. I picked the end date. I left on my own terms. The minute it was decided, the weight lifted and I felt better than I had felt for the last 5 months. Ex-Company friends even threw me a "hooray you're free party!"

It's been over two months now and I haven't stepped foot in that house again. I've already forgiven them because I know that I took much more away from the experience than I lost. I grew up at The Company. Had my heart broken. Fell in love. Made life long friends. Grew a spine. Found my voice. Learned to lead. And discovered what I could and could not bear. It was a shame that it ended the way it did but I realize now that only something so utterly unacceptable would have shaken my sense of practicality and loyalty enough to walk out the door. Not only has this chapter ended, the whole book is done. It's time to start a whole new novel.

You and your muddy paws

2009-05-09T19:07:00.000-07:00

One of the longstanding pet peeves I have with the bf is that he grew up in a culture where one doesn't take off his/her shoes at home - instead, tracking in whatever delightful concoction of urban debris of the day from the outside INSIDE. He's gotten better at taking off his stinky shoes when he comes home. I in return have gotten less anal about him taking a step or two into our abode with said stinky shoes. (I just have to vacuum more.) However, it's not until you're around your own brethren again that you realize, hey, it's not just me. I'm not weird!

The other night, the bf and I stopped by my brother's place to pick up some laundry I left there. I asked my brother if I could take a step on the carpet to grab the laundry and he retorted, "What are you, an animal?!" I couldn't stop laughing. And the bf? He responded with "That's why I'm not moving and just standing right here in the doorway!"

2009 - Year of the Crazy, Er Year of Change

2009-03-21T19:07:00.000-07:00

I'M STILL ALIVE!!! Blog I've missed you but been otherwise sidetracked with a couple of things.

1) Getting laid off from work. Yippee!
2) Dealing with unemployment, cobra healthcare, and other misc paperwork
3) Running amuck routine-free, sleep deprived, and pulled in a million directions
4) Fleeing and hitching a free ride up to San Francisco the first week out of work
5) Trying to get back into exercising at the Y
6) Catching a nasty cold the second week out of work after a particularly tough cardio class at the Y. Grrrrr. Exercise=evil
7) Exacerbating said cold by going up to Mammoth Mountain for a snowboarding/sledding on butt trip last weekend
8) Battling extra gnarly cold which came back with a vengeance as an upper respiratory infection
9) Becoming big fat lethargic Whatchamacalit all short of breath and chronically tired this past week
10) Making good on my promise to flee to Paris (and Belgium) this year. Leaving next week!

Gonna touch on each subject a little more in separate posts!

Snowboarding Amnesia

2009-01-25T16:08:00.001-08:00

Over the break, I managed to squeeze in some non-couch potato/TV surfing activities that tested my creaky ole body.

It had been ten months since I picked up snowboarding again. I didn't know it was possible, but I actually got worse. Is it possible to have body amnesia and physically forget how to do certain things so quickly? Ten months ago, I was happily navigating/falling my way down the mountain, getting the hang of the back edge, just starting to switch to the toe edge. This time, I failed at strapping in my boots, I stood there blankly contemplating how to even stumble toward the lift, and the lift itself seemed a frightening impossibility. I wouldn't call it a freak out, but let's just say the ski lift folks had to shout "Ok, sloooow down the lift!!"

When time came to get off the lift, you might as well have asked me to bungee jump off a bridge. I panicked and instead of pushing off the chair, got lifted up again as it started its turn. So I just fell forward. On my knees. That hurt.

By the time I hobbled along to the top of the hill where folks were strapping their boots back on, I was wiped out. And then all of a sudden, I realized "I don't remember how to stand up! What the hell did I do last time?" I physically could not get up on the board without sliding or falling back down. I imagine babies feel the same frustration learning how to walk, except that they care less and don't know any better.

After the bf helped me physically stand up, we managed to get down ONE run before calling it a day. Pathetic. Just nature's way of slapping me upside the head and reminding me that "Fool, you are not a natural athlete. Who are you kidding?"

Why I'll Never Be an Olympian. Or Rock Star

2009-01-14T01:07:00.000-08:00

Misocrazy stopped in town earlier this month so of course, we had to have a Rockband party at Polar Opposite's place. I love me some drums. It doesn't even have to be a song I know. I'll just sit there and live out my dreams of being a rock star drummer until my next life.

Of course that night, the bottom of my shin (or is it the front of my ankle?) was throbbing. As if I had been snowboarding all day. Except that it was only my left foot. Strange. True, we had snowboarded a week before. And gone bike riding the day before. But why just my left foot? Even the weight of my blankets at night aggravated it.

Then it dawned on me. I used only my left foot for the foot pedal in Rock Band. Could it be? Nah... Must have been the residual snowboarding or bike riding... How stupid could that be? Rock Band injury... Pshaw!

When I mentioned it to my fellow rock band friends, they laughed and then one slowly came forward with similar tales. They also mentioned different methods of foot pedaling without straining our weak little ankle joints. How sad is this? I mean I guess many of us did get sore arms playing Wii sports... Next thing you know I'll be straining my thumbs playing Little Big Planet...

New Year's Day

2009-01-01T22:23:00.000-08:00

Is it a bad omen for the new year if you start it off crying in bed, fighting with your bf, walking off into the night by yourself in a strange city, and having your first dinner of 2009 by yourself at a restaurant? At least I had a hearty meal and glass of wine at a lovely Italian restaurant down the street. Not to mention a virtual dinner companion via google talk with a friend on my new iphone. See, at least I got an iphone for xmas 2008 and it's definitely good for something, like company at dinner!

This year frightens me more than ever because 1) I plan on giving notice at work this month. 2) I have no idea when and where I'll be working. 3) If we don't kill each other first, the bf and I plan on moving in together sometime this year. Where or when, again I have no idea. 4) I don't when or if I'll get to travel out of the country yet again.

The therapist tells me to only focus on the positive and the best case scenario and it will come. I can see it, especially if I squint really really hard. But deep down, uncertainty scares me the way Freddy Krueger terrorizes people in their sleep. And it's going to take a hell of a lot more than 4 months of therapy to shake that fear.

New Year's Eve

2009-01-01T22:03:00.001-08:00

I thought new year's eve of 2007 might have been one of the worst. We were supposed to go to Disneyland. Instead I woke up, didn't hear from the bf until nearly noon, worried sick and wondering what the hell was going on. By the time he had called, I wanted to strangle him because I was so relieved he was ok. Turns out eh, he didn't really want to go and didn't hear his phone because it was on vibrate.

Ah, those were the days. When we were still 2 months in and he didn't understand how truly neurotic I could be. It's a year and two months now and things have gotten slightly better. Now I have new and better reasons to strangle him every week.

For new year's eve 2008, we decided to drive up to Flobelly's place to get away from LA and take in some snowboarding. Except the day before we left, he was DETERMINED to get all new gear. And a new printer/scanner. And an hour before we were supposed to be on the road, it was of utmost importance that he hook up said printer/scanner after picking it up that morning. After running 5 other errands already.

And when I finally said no, there's no more time, this is ridiculous, he pouted. And lashed out. And I cried.

When we got onto the road grudgingly, (both in silence) the freeway had been closed down halfway there and we had a detour that added an extra hour or two to our original three hour drive. Our lunch was Carl's Jr. Dinner, Taco Bell. I wasn't so much ending 2008 with a bang more so than a loud fart.

When we finally got there, he passed out immediately while I managed to have a scrumptious home cooked second dinner with Flobelly, her husband and their neighbors. We barely made it to midnight.

So long 2008, it's been good, it's been bad, it's definitely been tumultuous, and no doubt momentous. Pfffffttttttt.

Crybaby and Doctors

2008-12-20T18:48:00.000-08:00

Next year has got to be better. I know it. Or else I'm fleeing to Paris or some remote island.

In this year I've cried more than I ever had in my entire life. Maybe infant stages excluded because I don't remember that and I'm sure it was entirely warranted as a means of communication for basic survival needs. I never used to cry at anything. Steel Magnolias? Nada. Joy Luck Club. Meh. Unless I was in pain or being yelled at by my parents, I rarely cried.

Now, I'm a crybaby. Like those kids that cried at everything. You look at them cross-eyed and they cried. That's me. And it's exhausting and frustrating. I need to fix this.

In other news, part of the exhaustion, aside from the evilness of certain work bosses, has to do with this past week's parade of doctor's visits.

Tuesday - travel to the vortex of hell (Cedar Sinai in West Hollywood) to accompany the bf to the neurologist. Where the doctor keeps us waiting for an hour and tells us that as a precaution, I need to drive the bf around for the foreseeable future until they straighten out his meds. We also need to come back to vortex of hell for his EEG. Sigh.

Wednesday - took the day off to squeeze in 5 appointments. Of course it's pouring rain all day and I need to haul myself out to Pasadena and surrounding areas.
9am - Drop off bf at work
11am - dentist
Squeeze in some lunch and xmas shopping.
1:30 - podiatrist consult for my foot orthotics
2:15 - they can squeeze me in at the orthotics place. Dart over there to get casts of my feet.
3:15 - dermatologist. Where she keeps me waiting for 45 minutes.
4:00 - CRAP. I need to go back to vortex of hell (Cedar Sinai in West Hollywood) to pick up bf's glasses since he absent- mindedly left them there the day before. Need to get there by 4:30-5 before they close.
4:20 - Run out of dermatologist's office with her makeshift map drawn on a giant wadded up piece of tissue paper they use on the beds. Shortcut turns out to be awesome.
5pm - Run into the offices at the vortex of hell just as the assistants are walking out and manage to get bf's glasses. Minus a few years off my life from the drive. I'm gonna glue them to his head. Of course parking charges me four bucks anyway.
6pm - Get groceries, get home, sit down for a bit before I have to pick up the bf from work.

This must be how stay at home moms feel like - running around picking people up, dropping them off, running errands, prepping for dinner... I'm wiped.

Thursday - Work is nuts. All of a sudden, 6pm, my little bro at work, grabs me while clutching his heart and says call an ambulance. I think something's wrong. He's only 25!!! I think it's a panic attack but to be safe, once his heart rate slows back down, work excuses me to take him to the ER. I rush him to Urgent Care, then the ER in Santa Monica (though there is a hospital across the street, gotta schlep over to SM since THAT'S where our HMO allows us to go. Sheesh.) Stay with the poor guy till 9:30 as they run tests and give him an IV drip. All in all, a good bonding experience as we end the night with some dinner after he's discharged as ok. And the fools at work keep thanking me and saying it's so nice of me to do that. Whatever. I would have done it anyway. Like I would ever choose work over friends.

Whoops, the bf is stranded. I'm calling and calling each hour since there's no reception in the ER, and he never picks up or calls back. Great. Now I have to worry and be frantic that the fool decided to walk the 5 miles home along Venice Bl at night. It's one of those things where he better be ok, otherwise I'm gonna strangle him. Finally call his seatmate buddy and the guy chuckles and tells me he gave the bf a ride home - he didn't call you? ARGH!

Anyway, it's 5 more days till Christmas and I have yet to be infused with the holiday spirit. I think I've finished my shopping. Sent out my cards. Going to a party tonight. But man my head is numb. My face hurts from the crying and the dryness of my heater. And I miss my friends and most importantly, my sanity. THAT'S what I want for Christmas. Sanity. and maybe an Iphone.

Hours and Hours of Music Therapy

2008-12-15T01:28:00.000-08:00

There's no getting around it. November was a sh*t month. And soon it will be time to do the annual year end reflection on whether or not the year leaned toward sh*t half empty or sh*t half full. Did I mention that my vocabulary has become atrocious this year too?

On a bright note, after yet another gut wrenching argument with the bf, I slunk over to my brother's so that we could catch the KROQ Almost Acoustic Christmas concert at the Gibson Amphitheater at Universal Studios. This is a concert I've been trying on and off for 15 years to get tickets. I've stood in line for hours outside Tower records, called in repeatedly, and jumped on the Ticketmaster website the minute tickets were released for sale. I've never come close.

My brother, however, is blessed by magical concert fairies and managed to get tickets the second year in a row.

We got rained on when we left, but the hours and hours of music, along with some quality time with my brother really salvaged the night and pretty much this week. I had to admit, the first hour during the bands Vampire Weekend and Snow Patrol, I had to rein in some rogue tears every so often when my mind wandered over to sadder matters. But by the time we stepped out for some grub during the not so great Scott Weiland set (he of Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver fame), and returned to a lively Franz Ferdinand set, my brain was succumbing to the infectious ambiance and tunes.

While riding the wave of happy music, all of a sudden the surprise guest showed up. My brother looked up and said, "that sounds like Kanye...OMG it's Kanye West!" The guy was so cool, it didn't even matter that he was playing to a alternative rock crowd. He's probably so confident, he's thinking "hell yeah, hiphop, rap, alternative rock... whatever. Put me in front of a bunch of senior citizen Neil Diamond fans, and watch me work that crowd! I transcend demographics."

Paramour and Death Cab for Cutie were just as enjoyable, but the main act - the one my brother really came for was The Killers. I loved this band the first time I ever heard them on stage at the KROQ Weenie Roast concert more than 7 years ago. Now, they're one of the biggest acts and all their tunes are super catchy. I mean come on, are we human or are we dancer?

My favorite Killers song of all time - to listen to, sing aloud, and play guitar hero/rock band for is When You Were Young. Not only do I personally interpret the song's lyrics to describe one of my own follies - having idealistic sweep-me-off-my-feet notions and then falling flat on my face - the music video is so nicely done that it manages to tell a real emotional story in about five minutes time.

Finally, the band I stayed all the way till the end for, a band I never thought I'd ever hear live singing songs I used to listen to on cassettes - The Cure - opened with Pictures of You and I nearly died and went to heaven. I think that song came out when I was 10. But mainly I got into The Cure during the high school and college angst years, thanks to UBBF and other more musically savvy high school friends. I looked around and figured a good amount of the crowd wasn't even born when the Disintegration album came out and then I felt old. (On a side note, I also felt bitter, jaded, and old when I saw the young couple in front of me smooch, hug and make out all through the concert and I could keep thinking was "oh puhleeze, go get a room!"

Luckily my brother understood my need to see this band and stayed till I was ready to go. He may not have understood why The Cure sounded good to me or anyone else, but he understood that it was something I needed to do. For now, my concert going is complete. I have seen almost everyone I've ever wanted to see. And for now, I'm on a music high which will hopefully carry me through the night until I deal with reality tomorrow.

Things I've Found to Be True

2008-11-16T01:30:00.000-08:00

Some are cliches, some are bits of advice from friends, and others are just so.

- Things can only get better once you hit rock bottom
- There is no such thing as loyalty from companies to their employees
- A bad job situation can destroy your self worth if you let it
- Relationships are f***ing hard work
- Boyfriends may come and go, but your friends will always be there for you
- No one can fix you except yourself

What Happened to Normal and Happily Ever After?

2008-11-12T23:49:00.000-08:00

Do people sneer at those two things like the Fox and the Sour Grapes - because they're unattainable? Lately, I've never felt further from either of them. Not that I was ever in the vicinity of normal in terms of conforming to a standard. But one definition of normal seems to be "free of mental disorder: sane." And I'm not even sure I conform to that definition anymore.

Is it normal to cry so uncontrollably that you can't quite make it to work in the morning or explain to your bf why you are so worked up? Is it normal to get so depressed and flattened by your boss and your job that you start tying in your self worth as a person to your performance at work? Or is it normal to sometimes have so little faith in people or yourself that you just constantly expect the worse?

I'm so tired. And recovering from yet another cold, which doesn't help the mental anguish. I'm hoping this is rock bottom for now and that all that therapy will help. I'm hoping I won't need drugs to stop the crying. And I'm hoping a car runs over my boss tomorrow. Kidding. Kind of.

Babies and Bunnies

2008-10-28T16:59:00.000-07:00

We’re just at that age now, but every time I suddenly hear “I have news!” or something along those lines, another friend has up and gotten themselves preggers. The latest ~~victim~~, er blessed friend is someone I’ve known since we were twelve. TWELVE! That’s nearly prepubescent times!

I have a harder time containing the shock and strangeness when it’s friends from high school and pre-high school having kids. Maybe because we knew each other when we were kids ourselves. But I guess it’s bound to happen and I have yet to resort to rocking in a corner to comfort myself.

The other day, while at the auto mechanic with the bf, the particularly chatty owner decided to tell us his life story as an immigrant and ended up extolling the virtues of America and having his two daughters. Then he placed his hand on the bf’s arm and said “YOU should have two kids. It’s the best thing.” To which the bf responded with “She’s going to be the mother of my children!” while pointing at me. Odd response. And I didn’t even freak out and run!

That darned clichéd clock is probably ticking but I am in no way ready any time soon. If I’m lucky, I’ll be ready before my body closes up shop on that idea. For now, I’m leaning much more toward giant bunnies than a kid. I mean, how can you not love this?

New Song to Fit the Mood

2008-10-24T12:02:00.000-07:00

This week, Wavy kindly pointed out Leona Lewis's follow up song "Better in Time." I couldn't get enough of her first single "Bleeding Love" especially as I was feeling the same kind of frustration with the bf. In this new song, it's like the "everything will be ok" response to her first song (though they did have different songwriters.)

LEONA LEWIS - BETTER IN TIME (VIDEO)
Uploaded by AcerBen

It's like Madonna's "You'll See" sequel to her other song "Take A Bow." I love narratives in song.

Anyway, this song has been on repeat at work and though the melody feels upbeat, and the message is pretty strong and positive, the song actually makes me quite sad. Probably because I'm hoping that life won't imitate art.

A Woman Needs A Man... Like A Fish Needs a Bicycle...

2008-10-20T19:00:00.000-07:00

Well I guess I don't really need a man, but I do like him around. And I'm no fish, but I thought it was high time to tackle learning how to ride a bicycle.

It only took me two years to hit this resolution , but yesterday, ride I did. After the bf patiently taught (forced) me to unhook the front tire and load the bike into my car, he watched me ride over and over in circles at the Santa Monica DMV. While moms were warily practicing with their kids, and husbands were teaching their wives to drive, I donned a crash helmet and staked my claim of the empty parking lot, as he nervously yelled for me to stay away from the cars and stop veering too far away from our little section.

Throughout most of my life, this is how I felt about bicycles:What I've discovered is that it's easier and harder than I thought. Easy to just jump on the bike and ride around in circles on a nice smooth flat surface. Hard when there's any kind of incline, precision steering, or obstacles (trees, poles, people, cars, etc) in the way. As soon as I tried to steer around a rocky incline in the front of the DMV, I fell over and steered into a small palm tree. Ah well, practice practice practice...

Right On Schedule

2008-09-02T00:57:00.000-07:00

For reasons I'll try to write more about later, I started seeing a therapist. A psychologist actually, because I don't believe the answer is medication in my case.

On our first session, she explained to me that many of the coping mechanisms we learn as a child are ones that we use as an adult through our twenties. And somehow, by the time we reach our thirties, those coping strategies start to fall apart and not work so well anymore.

"In that respect," she told me, "you're right on schedule!"

And I thought, "Thank God, for once I'm on schedule with the rest of the people my age and not a late bloomer when it comes to the whole falling-apart-in-your-early-thirties stage!" Lucky me.

Spontaneous Combustion

2008-08-18T23:32:00.001-07:00

Lots of ups and downs in the last few months and boy have I missed writing. I actually feel a little less sane lately, probably because of the lack of writing among other reasons.

Of all the things to inspire me to write again, it was the spontaneous combustion of my Ipod Nano that prompted me to think "Now that is something worth sharing about!"
It was a Friday evening around 6pm about a week and a half ago. Charging the ipod at my work computer per usual, I heard a snap, a pop, a sizzle... kinda like Rice Crispies in milk. Except not as tasty. Nor fragrant. Then a large poof of smoke went up and that geyser of smelliness flew right toward me. Half the studio ran over to see what was going on.

Boy was I popular with the IT department that evening.
"Can we sue Apple?!" they gleefully asked.
"Can we blog about it on Digg?" another one asked.

I brought it over to the Apple store last week in a box. I showed them the button that flew off the middle of the ipod when the smoke came pouring out from it, as well as the charred cord. They were equally incredulous. And some of the younger Apple guys came over to gawk.

"Dude, were you listening to some death metal music or something?" they joked.
"No," I should have said. "Actually Yanni."

At first, I got the whole, "um well, it's technically not under warranty."
Are you kidding me?
"You can participate in the Ipod recycling program and donate this Ipod for recycling to get 10% off a new one!" one of the sprightly sales reps informed me.

I looked at her blankly. I don't want to buy a new ipod. I just want to replace this one. It blew up. Not like I dropped it or put it near fire. What if I had left it at home charging and it lit my whole place on fire? All my personal items... en fuego! Apple items are magical but I assume spontaneous combustion is not on the list of things that they should triumph over PC's.
Luckily one of members of the "Genius Bar" came over and assessed the situation.
"Yeah that's a safety issue. Let's replace this one for her. Stat!"

Well she didn't exactly say "stat!" but it seemed appropriate. Two days later, they got me a brand spanking new 1st generation Ipod Nano. I didn't even know they make them anymore.

I wonder if I should have made a bigger stink and got a new Ipod Nano. I wonder if this one will meet its fiery end in another three years. Only time will tell. I would however, still like an Iphone.

Songs to Fit the Mood

2008-05-12T22:51:00.000-07:00

Lately, whenever I was feeling down about the bf I noticed that these two songs would jump out in my playlist.

Sleeper's "What Do I Do Now?"

During the prime of britpop in the 90's, I listened to this in college all the time and every time the story in this song just broke my heart. A fun catchy beat, but underneath it, a sad song about how self doubt and miscommunication can destroy a relationship and lead to regrets. It was also one of the anthem songs for my childhood best friend, dealing with the fallout from her college boyfriend whom I never met but feel like I know so well...

Then there's Sarah McLachlan's "Do What You Have To Do" which captures the end of a relationship, when you're trying to desperately salvage what you can. I loved this album, but never noticed this particular track until Vaj pointed it out to me as one of his favorites.

Wavy threw this one my way the other day and it made me all melancholy. I saw Teitur open for John Mayer years ago and sent his music around to everyone. This one is about the trials and tribulations of a long distance relationship.

Teitur "I Was Just Thinking"

"Wavy," I asked, "do they have a song about two people who really love each other but seem to keep hurting each other and not sure how to make it work?"

"Yes, they have those too," she wisely answered. And now this lovely pop hit is on repeat on my itunes.

Leona Lewis "Bleeding Love"

Just A Girl

2008-05-06T01:59:00.001-07:00

Oh demented fairy godmother, I just realized your hand in all of this. I remembered that not so long ago, I used to wish that I were less of the tomboyish sort, less the rational buddy and longed for a boy tough enough to make me feel more like a girl. And, well, of course I got it.

Now, I break into tears if say rose petals start falling to the ground or something equally ridiculous... and I am completely irrational when it comes to the bf. And that bf? Not one bit of metrosexual in him. He's totally a guy's guy. Rough around the edges. Blunt as all hell with no self-censoring mechanism in his head. Tries so hard to pay for everything and take care of me even if he doesn't quite know how. And does all those stupid insensitive things like forgetting to call back, not waiting for me to eat together or watch a film, or forgetting to follow up on plans he suggested.

At the end of the day, it's not all bad. For better or worse, the bf makes me feel like such a girly girl whether he tells me I'm beautiful or when he's making me cry because he did something completely inconsiderate. Many of my guy friends have drifted apart from me now that they have their own wives and girlfriends and that feeling of being "just one of the guys" doesn't happen quite as often anymore. At work, I'm almost positive that everyone sees me as an actual girl and not the tomboy buddy I once was.

As I read through some old entries and texts from the beginning of the relationship, I complained to Wavy about how the bf obviously doesn't try as hard anymore or drop everything including time from work just to see me. "Can you believe you used to call him Captain Attentive?" I asked.

"That, my dear, is a universal problem," replied Wavy. And just like that, I'm now just another girl complaining about a boy and wondering "when did I become like this?"

There Are No Losers

2008-05-02T00:43:00.001-07:00

Conversation between the bf and my brother, as he's driving us back home from the airport after the Seattle trip.

BF: "Oh I taught your sister how to play hacky sack today up in Seattle."
Brother: "Cool. How do you play?"
BF: "You just kick this little bean bag ball up in the air and pass it around in the circle."
Brother: " How do you win?"
BF: "Uh, you don't really win. The goal is just to have everyone in the circle be able to touch it at least once without letting it hit the ground."
Brother: "I don't get it. There's no winning? There's no winner?"
Me: (Laughing) "Not every game has to be a competition!"
Brother: "Then how do you decide who loses? I can't comprehend this."

Oh Boy Part 2

2008-04-29T23:41:00.000-07:00

I meant to follow up this first post with another one immediately the day after. And then things kept going up and down like a roller coaster or the Hollywood Tower of Terror Ride at California Adventure. I never knew when to write - when things were going really well or when things sucked. Which changes week by week, day by day. Go figure.

It's been nearly six months and frequently, I'm still stunned. Milestones are knocking me on the head left and right.

1) Told the parents

A couple of weeks ago, he came with me for my dentist appointment. The dentist and the dental hygienist have known me since I was ten and I realized my mom would murder me if she heard from our dentist about the bf before she heard about it from me. So after delaying the inevitable, I casually mentioned him over dinner and the parents took it well without asking more then a dozen questions and a request for a picture.

Flobelly, a fellow Cantonese chick married to a sweet white boy from Ohio (or is it Iowa? I swear I always get those mixed up) put it into perspective for me before I spilled the beans. She merely said "it only gets harder. That will be the easiest part. Wait till the parents meet him and then both parents meet. Awkward...." Eek.

2) Met his family and friends

The trip up north to Seattle was an eye opening experience in many ways. But the most important thing is that I met nearly all of his friends, including his best friend and his mom. So daunting considering that between them both, they've met everyone he's ever brought around. Including the ex-wife and apparently some girl who announced she was Wiccan. Huh.

3) Slowly but surely, we're being outed to the work peeps

Work is hard enough as it is, but having a relationship with someone you work with adds a new dimension of complexity. At first I was really stressed about the fact that technically he reports to me in a way, and that legally that was a big no-no. However, then I realized our company is pretty informal, that's there's like five couples already and the only person who would try to use this against me is the Tool. And even then I pride myself on being completely professional throughout the years, no matter who my work friends were or what stupid guy was treating me poorly. The Tool has got nothing on me.

Plus when the bf let slip to his seatmate that we went up to Seattle together, then mistakenly IMed his seatmate instead of me to give me the heads up, he had to go, "well, now you know." And our coworker merely responded, "yeah, it was no secret." It's almost liberating.

So, the families know. The friends know. The work folks know. Hell, my dentist and the dental hygienist knows. They even gave him a toothbrush. And this sounds kinda bad, but all I can think of is man, if this doesn't work out it is gonna be hell to disentangle and shake off.

Still Restless

2008-04-22T00:27:00.000-07:00

Because the "tool" made it impossible for me to take more than a week off this spring, I am taking several mini-vacations until October when I'm hoping to hit up New Zealand with the Bourgeoisie friend on this tour.

So out of this previous list, I've managed to hit up #7 San Diego so far.

This Friday, I'm back at #3 Seattle (more on that later), mid-May I'm off to #2 New York and #1 San Francisco by end of next month. Almost veered off to Portland or Austin instead of NY because of scheduling conflicts with friends, but in the end I can't stay away from New York and all its glorious shopping and food.

As for fleeing the country, #6 Toronto is still a possibility this summer and Bizarro Twin mentioned Croatia possibly next year. I still have no idea what's going on with Japan.

Darn work gets in the way of fun and travel. But I guess I need to earn enough funding to actually go places.

A Few Flicks

2008-04-21T23:31:00.000-07:00

Despite all the drama of work and boy the past several weeks, I did manage to squeeze in a few entertaining flicks.

21 - I love gambling movies. Especially ones based on a true story. Even if the true story actually involved more Asians, less violence, and less romance. It was still fun and got me in the mood to go clubbing, which I did, this past Saturday.

Leatherheads - I actually hate football, but this was a fun throwback to those old fashioned screwball comedies with lots of witty banter. And it was kinda cool to see how football started. Renee Zellweger is getting weirder looking, George Clooney is looking old but still dashing, and John Krasinski is cute but not as cute as when he's in The Office.

The Waterhorse - So cute. Scottish accents, baby lochness monster, and overall a sweet story. I'd watch it again. And I'm sure kids will love it too.

Lust Caution - Total 180 from the previous flick. Beautiful film, beautiful actress, amazing scenery. But wow. You go, repressed Chinese people! When Jigaho said she had seen soft core porn more toned down than this, I was impressed. And I think that describes it perfectly. But love scenes aside, it was an intriguing film, all 2 1/2 hours of it. I even watched the "Making of" documentary afterwards.

Gone Baby Gone - It started off a little slow and quite talky. Actually the bf got bored and I had to finish it alone. But, man it was worth it. It was a great film and I am impressed with the brothers Affleck. So many twists and turns and at the end of the movie, it leaves you thinking about what you would have done. Moral quandaries are always fun.

Lars and the Real Girl - Cute quirky film. Ryan Gosling is such a great actor. And after the initial "ew that's gross, people actually buy those?!" they made the real doll almost like a real person that you felt for. Weird. And a little sad. But overall a sweet story about how much a community will pull together for one of its own. Almost makes you want to live in a small town.

I'm excited that the movie blockbuster season is almost upon us, especially Indiana Jones! Until then, more catching up on rentals and watching whatever I can get my hands on.

Crybaby

2008-04-06T21:30:00.000-07:00

God damn hormones.

I was watching the movie The Last of the Mohicans this afternoon, a movie I've watched many times back in the previous decade because the music alone hooks me in. And oh my god, the chemistry between Daniel Day Lewis and Madeline Stowe is phenomenal - I was once read a review that said the passion between their eyeballs alone could carry the scene where they just stare at each other before running into each other's arms. But now I digress.

Anyway, it's a movie I've seen many times before without shedding a single tear. Because hey, it's a happy ending right? The two main characters end up with each other and all is good in the world of love. But today, as with everything I watch these days except maybe horror films, I was bawling. Why did that guy have to die for someone who didn't love him back? Why did the other guy have to die so foolishly without waiting for his backup? And jeez, why did that girl throw herself off the cliff after this guy she barely knew? Everything was just so unfair and sad!

I can't quite pinpoint what's wrong, but it's a good week when I can go the whole week without shedding tears. Often, the quivery feeling lasts for days, when anything can set off the deluge. I feel slightly mental.

Work and the bf take turns making me cry and that is not good. I either need to toughen up or take some drugs.

Old Friend

2008-04-02T23:10:00.000-07:00

You know how when you go a long time without talking to certain close friends, you keep putting it off until you can set aside a good chunk of time to REALLY catch up and focus on that endeavor? It's kinda what's happening here. Poor neglected blog. I just need to post and nurture it a little more consistently, even if it's smaller posts and random bits of info. Even if it's not really proofread or polished, slightly incoherent and insane.

And with that, here's a picture of the latest resident on my couch, won by the bf at Legoland because he loves carnival games oh so much, regardless of what the prize is.

Tool

2008-03-16T19:59:00.000-07:00

My boss is a tool. That's the best term I can come up with to describe him. Urban Dictionary has several definitions of tool but I think in order of accuracy, I would have to go with #4, #7, and then #2. On a side note, I also like the term "asstard" as used in #2.

The man is out "sick" one day every other week. At least once a week, he'll come over and ask about something I took care of ages ago and already emailed him about.
"Oh I don't read all my emails," he boldly declares.

"Let's have a QUICK meeting," he always suggests. And more than an hour later, after he continues to talk about the same thing long past my attention span has ceased to function because of the HUNGER PANGS that are attacking me, we are still trapped in the room.

I always start looking for an escape clause.. perhaps another meeting, or a supervisor that needs me to help out on a project, or a very important phone call I have to return. Akin to trying to gnaw off my own leg to escape the bear trap. I even employ other artist friends to peep in the window occasionally to gesture at me, as if something huge needed my attention outside of that now claustrophobic room, especially when it's lunch time.

"Don't ever leave me!" I tell them. "Make up an excuse, come drag me out of there so I can at least go have lunch."

And don't even get me started on how much he piles on extra work on everyone because he thinks everything takes half the time. Then comes in and gives motivational speeches to his burnt out team as we stare at him glassy-eyed and disbelieving.

"Is this guy for real?" we think. And unfortunately, yes he is.

A Concert For Angry Youths and Formerly Bitter Whatchamacalits

2008-03-04T23:23:00.000-08:00

I've been on an indie music/tiny venue kick for a long while now. So when it was time to go to Linkin Park tonight, I was equally excited and wary. The last time I saw a big act at a big venue, it was The Police at Dodgers stadium last summer. To sum up that experience, it was great music, insane crowds, 2 hour wait to drive in, and me running the rest of the way from the hill to the venue to use the bathroom. Fun times.

With Linkin Park, though I did end up running to the bathroom multiple times from the gallon of water I drank, getting in and out of the venue was great, and the music equally loud and wonderful. It brought me back to the days of screaming/singing along in the car when I was angry or hurting, trying to channel the angst in Chester Bennington and Mike Shinoda's voices.

I ended up dragging my brother along, still fresh from work in his business casual get up and thoroughly out of place at the concert. Our seats were as close to the floor as possible without actually having to stand with the masses (whew! getting old. I like to sit at my concerts!) I sang along, though did not jump up and down with my fists pumped like the guy next to me. Of course some old geezers near us smoked pot and strangely enough I saw people with young children (like 3 year olds!) wandering around the floor. Talk about a diverse crowd of fans.

The six members of the band obviously have a good thing going and create solid music, though it did leave me wondering how decisions are made within the group. A true democracy? Or are some members more important than others? My brother ranked them in order of importance just for fun but I don't think that would ever work for a band to be successful. Anyway, my dreams to be a drummer for a rock band when I grow up continue to live on!

My Vacuum Cleaner Ate My Sofa

2008-03-02T23:56:00.000-08:00

Apparently, vacuum cleaners don't belong on sofas. And apparently, sofas are one of the most highly flammable things in your living room. Sigh... If I had only known. Chalk it up to one more thing that people don't tell you about in day to day conversations and one more thing that should be common sense.

Luckily, no one was hurt, nothing burst into flames and only poor Oscar the Couch suffered some cosmetic damages when I dragged the vacuum up on the seat. I was using the attachments to vacuum up as much cat hair as possible along the top of the couch and windowsill. (So that my poor allergic college roomie visiting from out of town wouldn't asphyxiate) Unfortunately the hose wasn't long enough so I had to pull the entire vacuum up. I didn't think the bottom part still had suction since I was using the attachment, but boy was I wrong!

Oh Boy - Part One

2008-02-09T23:41:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time coming. I've avoided talking about it because I really didn't know what to say. I'm not one to gush over a boyfriend and make everyone gag. Nor did I want to make this a place where I'd publicly complain about his quirks and our ups and downs. But I guess if I like to write about the stuff in my life, well he's been occupying a big fat chunk of real estate in it.

I was rereading some entries from the latter half of last year, particularly in the summer, and unfortunately, my first thought was to start this entry with "Stupid ass boy, I was so darn happy and angst-less for a good long stretch till he came along."

Oops. That's no good. But this week has been particularly hard. And though 1) this is a serious relationship, 2) it's the first serious relationship I've been in, and 3) it's already the longest I've ever dated anybody, I'm still wondering, how did I get here? How are we ever going to resolve our vast differences considering we are POLAR OPPOSITES on about everything I can possibly think of? We're already averaging what Wavy calls our "state of the union" talks about every other week if not more. And though every single one of my dear girl friends assure me this is normal early relationship stuff and constantly tell me things sound fine, they don't FEEL fine. I am tired. I don't want to continously readjust my expectations lower and lower until I just don't have them anymore or don't care. Nor do I want to be that bitchy demanding girlfriend because I know that doesn't work either.

I was looking at this entry about him and asked myself those questions again.
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? No, yes, maybe. I don't know!!!!! Probably not but I'll survive anyway, goddammit!!!!!

Yeah, the tide seemed to have turned at the start of the new year. Suddenly, I was waist deep in this thing and it was capable of causing me to spontaneously burst into tears at times of stress and yuckiness. And naturally, that lovely courting phase where he was super attentive and promised to go to whatever I asked him to came to a standstill. I think perhaps, the icky middle has arrived!

Car-ma

2008-02-05T23:14:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me, knows that I drive as if I were a race car driver in a past life. 80mph is my favorite speed. I walk like I drive and weave in between people if they are going abnormally slow and blocking my way. I'm also learning to use that horn when cars dart in front of me dangerously or if someone is picking their nose at a green light and not moving within three seconds.

So when I got a flat tire Sunday night and was forced to drive on the spare at 50mph ON THE FREEWAY for a good forty miles, it was truly some kind of driving karma slapping me upside the head. As I tried my hardest to stay at 50 in the slow lane, sometimes creeping up to 55 and having visions of my tire exploding off the car, I was high beamed, honked at, passed about a hundred times, and given countless dirty looks. It was excruciating.

I wish I could say that it taught me to be more patient and understanding with slow drivers. But that sentiment may have only lasted for a day. Just get out of my way people!

Restless

2008-01-29T23:41:00.000-08:00

Well, the first month of the year hasn't even ended and I'm already stir crazy and trying to get out of town. Is that bad?

My hippo-loving Africa traveling buddy, sent me this. Though it wasn't on my list of places to go and I swore that the next trip would be something more luxurious with no roughing it or strenuous activities involved, I am quite tempted.

So I got South Africa off my list, which was #1. Now where to this year...

1) Costa Rica - purely because I have a friend to go with and it's somewhere new
2) Japan - because I may get to attend a wedding as someone's date
3) Croatia and Greece - If Bizarro Twin can coordinate the right times with me...
4) Spain and Portugal - Can always go there alone if all else fails
5) China - it's cheap and if someone goes with me, why not?
6) Toronto, Canada - possibly family reunion and cousin's wedding reception. wheeeee!

As for travel within the US, I definitely will hit up:
1) San Francisco - because I skipped it all of 2007 and I need to go there at least once a year
2) New York - same reason as above
3) Seattle - because there's more to see and now I have people to stay with
4) Portland - because I've never been and there's people to stay with
5) Austin - same reason as #4
6) Vancouver - technically not in US, but only 2 hour drive from Seattle. Plus I can stay with cousins
7) San Diego - doesn't require flying, cousin lives there, and I have a wedding to attend

Anyway, at this point I would gladly even hit up Tijuana just to get away. We'll see how fast I can bolt!

On Hate and Other Horrid Things

2008-01-23T22:59:00.000-08:00

I have seven projects to manage at work. Seven different clients, seven different schedules, seven different production trackers, and seven different deliveries.

I am angry. And I have told my tool of a boss just how angry I am at him and at the situation he's put me in. He apologized repeatedly and threw in a couple of "I understands" and some "I'm so swamped too." Which does nothing for me because it's not a solution.

What pisses me off even more is that it's the work of two people and my head is barely above water. He did this to me last year, I pulled it off, asked for a big raise, and they shafted me.

So I'm bellyaching to anyone who will listen to me until I get more help and the work load is more balanced. Supervisors, owners of the company, other artists... no one can dare complain to me if I fall behind. Or occasionally growl at people.

As a cherry on top, some of the clients on my biggest project, the one dealing with the yellow-colored cartoon family, are just A**HOLES. No way to mince words. One in particular, who I shall heretofore call the DICK is so abrasive, so aggressively rude, so much a waste of oxygen, that my blood boils after every interaction with him.

It's been a while since I've hated anyone so much, thought such horrible things during meetings (stabbing him repeatedly, baseball bat to the nuts...) cried at home partly from work dealings. Luckily, everyone else hates him too AND I have wonderful people around me who listen to my rants everyday. Until then, I'm counting down the days till this particular project ends, till every single one of these projects end and I can dream of my next vacation.

Oh Blog, How I've Missed You...

2008-01-10T23:20:00.000-08:00

You know how something's got to give? So sleeping, reading, and writing seem to have given way to spending more time with this boy. And of course it doesn't help that work has once again become murderously insane at least for this month and next. And I sure as hell won't give up time with my friends.

So there we have it.

Not enough time in the day, nor energy to do everything I want to do. I'm already restless and itching to travel to my next destination...

Year End Travel

2008-01-06T23:48:00.000-08:00

For some reason, of all the pictures I took in Seattle, this is one of my favorites. Probably because it looks so ominous and so unlike the fabulous weather and mood of the whole weekend up there. But on this particular night, we were also denied entrance to the Space Needle on account of some private holiday party. Pooh. I took this picture as we walked away from it and slunk back towards the hotel. Well we made it up there the next day anyway...

In Vegas over the holidays, I managed to drag my friends out looking for old neon signs. Here are the letters 'A' and 'R' from the old Sahara hotel, now residing at the Old Mormon Fort visitor center (yeah it sounds weird... but apparently it's where the city of Las Vegas started) until the brand new Neon Sign Museum is built later this year. Can't wait to go back and see the rest of these fabulous signs! Yeah, I'm a geek...

Oh What Tangled Webs We Weave

2007-12-27T00:22:00.000-08:00

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

2007-12-25T15:12:00.000-08:00

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?

2007-12-16T23:20:00.000-08:00

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

2007-12-05T23:01:00.000-08:00

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

2007-12-01T20:19:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-20T20:21:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-19T23:04:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-18T21:09:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-12T20:36:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-11T22:12:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-04T23:31:00.000-08:00

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

2007-11-01T17:09:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-31T23:55:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-29T21:20:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-10-28T21:31:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-16T23:35:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-14T23:27:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-09T23:40:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-01T23:19:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-30T22:27:00.000-07:00

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?

2007-09-26T23:22:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-21T22:59:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-20T22:21:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-19T23:12:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-19T21:09:00.000-07:00

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...

2007-09-17T23:17:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-11T23:37:00.001-07:00

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

2007-09-10T23:16:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-09T23:25:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-08T23:57:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-07T21:02:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-07T00:04:00.000-07:00

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)

2007-09-05T21:42:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-04T21:45:00.000-07:00

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

2007-09-03T21:45:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-29T23:54:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-27T23:47:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-26T23:15:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-20T23:46:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-18T23:57:00.000-07:00

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

2007-08-15T23:39:00.000-07:00

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.