A Letter From My Goddaughter

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

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.

Things I've Found to Be True

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

Oh Boy Part 2

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.

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 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."

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.

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.

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.

Do We HAVE To Be Boring Ole Adults?

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

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

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

Some Things Come Full Circle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Am An Apple K2

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

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

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

A Little Bit of Irreverence

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life Changes (For Other Folks)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Labor(less) Day Weekend

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here Come the Singles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heat, Sunset Junction, Old Faces, New Faces

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friends For Life, Fifty To Life

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

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

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

I have awesome friends.

Some Things, You Just Can't Shake

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps #3 is a bit too dramatic and unnecessary.

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

How I Know I Have A Bad Pattern

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

UBBF: So do you see him all the time?

Me: No, he lives too far away.

U: Oh, do you chat with him?

M: Nope, no IMing.

U: Well, do you guys chat at work?

M: No, we don't work together.

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

M: Uh, he doesn't work here.

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

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

U: Ohhhhhhhh.......