Year End Travel

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

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

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

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

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

Oi To The World

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

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

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

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

Where Has The Time Gone?

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

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

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

Winter Whimsy

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

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

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

Views On Marriage

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

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

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

Outed By Technology Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

Outed By Technology Part 1

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

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

Celebrating the End of the Fifteen Day Virus

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

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

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



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

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

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

A Boy

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

It kinda freaks me out.

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

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

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

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

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

Dragging My Sorry Sick Ass To A Couple More Fun Things

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emerging From the Quarantine

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

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

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

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

Sick Like Clockwork

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

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

The Drama of Work

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

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

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

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

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

Defying the Constraints of Age

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

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

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

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

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

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

More! Concerts!

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



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

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

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





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

A Month of Concerts

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

Stubbornness

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

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

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

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

Birthdaypalooza

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

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


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

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

The 1-2-3 Punch

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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