Because, really, how much can you get done with one bloodshot eye

I was up kind of late last night. Reading. Harry Potter. Until 1:30am. And I'm paying for it now. And really, I still want to be at home reading rather than at work. Is that wrong?

Countdown to PR

I've been working my ass off to get all of my crap done. And I'm really exhausted. But I know, it will be completely worth it in 8 days, when MS, TC and I will be poolside at the El San Juan Hotel, drinking rum based drinks and reading Harry Potter.

Just. Eight. More. Days.

Current soundtrack of my life

Okay MS and CawfeeGuy, here's mine:

opening credits: How I Feel (My December) - Kelly Clarkson
waking up: Just a ride (from the Grey's Anatomy CD Michele gave me) - Jem
first day at school: Anxiety (Elephunk) - Black Eyed Peas with Papa Roach
falling in love: Temperature - Sean Paul
breaking up: Ever the Same (Something to Be) - Rob Thomas
prom: Simple Kind of Life (Return of Saturn) - No Doubt
life’s okay: Like That (Monkey Business) - Black Eyed Peas
mental breakdown: Language or the Kiss (Swamp Ophelia) - Indigo Girls
flashback: Suspension without Suspense (Return of Saturn) - No Doubt
driving: Breakaway (Breakaway) - Kelly Clarkson
getting back together: Wreck of the Day (Wreck of the Day) - Anna Nalick
wedding: Hear Me (Breakaway) - Kelly Clarkson
birth of a child: Somewhere I Belong (Meteora) - Linkin Park
final battle: Now Comes the Night (Something to Be) - Rob Thomas
death scene: Artificial Sweetener (Return of Saturn) - No Doubt

Considering how much U2 I have on my player, I'm surprised none came up. My mp3 player really liked No Doubt and Kelly Clarkson today... I wonder what that means...

GAH!

I am so overwhelmed with work right now that I don't know where to begin and all I feel like doing is crawling back into bed and pray that it all goes away but then I wake up at 4:30 in the morning thinking about all the work I have to do that I get overwhelmed all over again.

*breathe*

I can't wait to go on vacation.

Freewheeling Leader - what the hell does that mean?

Free-Wheeling Leader

Some of this is true. But the part that says, "You don't mind being in the spotlight, preferring social gatherings to quiet nights at home," I'm not so sure about...

Perils of working at home

Thor would sleep on the document I'm trying to work on. I guess that's what's called an occupational hazard. I just hope he's not drooling on it.

Whenever I'm at my Dad's place, I try to run as many errands for him as possible. I have the car. I have the time. And it's certainly not a big deal at all. One of the things that he usually sends me for is rice. Big ol' 20lb bags of rice. And there are usually 2 bags. Most of the time, his wife comes with me. But if there's nothing else to buy, there's really no point. How hard could it be to pick up a couple of bags of rice?

So, right before I leave to meet MS, her mom, TC and PC for dim sum, my Dad's wife hands me money and asks me to buy these bags of rice:
Now, I'm Chinese. That's pretty obvious. But I'm only a little more Chinese than General Tso's Chicken - created by Chinese people, looks Chinese, has a Chinese flavor, but definitely Americanized for public consumption. I speak what I call "Restaurant Chinese," which is enough to order food, pay the bill and generally fool the waitstaff up until the point they ask me a real question. And I certainly don't read Chinese (except for numbers and recognizing my last name).

PC and I are in the store trying to match characters and obviously not making any headway, when MS takes the list from my hand and says we're going to ask someone. Right. Yeah, well, when we asked for help, I realized just how sorry a person I was since I wasn't even close to choosing the correct bags. At least now I will have forever embedded in my memory the type of rice my Dad and his wife prefer. I'm only slightly afraid that next time she's going to give me an entire shopping list in Chinese and say, "Go."

(BTW, did you notice the 11 o'clock dollars? Yeah, me too.)

So, something's going on with Blogger right now where I can't put titles on the entries, so bear with me if it all seems a little odd right now.

(don't ask about the plate, because trust me, I have no idea either)

This past weekend in NY was all about friends and family. I went up to attend Dennis and Karen's baby shower. They are expecting little Darrien in about a month now and Karen definitely has the pregnant lady shuffle going on (terribly cute on her, by the way).

This is their first baby, and I always get all excited about buying baby stuff. I just like baby stuff - it's all cute and soft and fun, and really I want to play with everything. I bought a whole bunch of stuff off their registry at Target. Wrapped it up all nice and pretty.

I'm on my way up to NY, about an hour out of DC, having just gotten on the Harbor Tunnel Thruway (I895, for those who care). I was thinking that I should move the chocolates I have from the trunk into the car so they don't melt. Then I thought to myself, "What did I do with those chocolates? I don't remember putting them in the car." Then I remembered that I put them in the bag with one of the baby shower gifts... which was sitting on the dining room table. FUCK.

I frantically call up Turg and explain that the bags are on the table. He says to turn around. Well, turning around was not an option as far as I was concerned for two reasons: (1) I895 has NO EXITS until you pass through the tunnel, which, at that point, was another 15 minutes away, and (2) I was already an hour out, plus the extra 15 minutes before I could even consider turing around, which would add another 2 1/2 hours onto my trip. He was kind enough to suggest meeting me in Baltimore with the gift. And as I'm going through the tunnel, I'm thinking of all the possible places he could meet me. I settle on Towson, since there is a Petsmart there and I could get out of the car with Thor for a little while. Then I realized there was a Target in the same shopping center, and I could possibly rebuy the gifts. Which brought me to the fact that there's a Target near home in Brooklyn, and I could do the same there when I arrived in NY. Which is exactly what I did. *whew*

Of course, being the person that I am, I bought exactly the same stuff (with the exception of a couple of things they didn't have, and which will be sent to the parents to be), and wrapped it exactly the same, as if anyone besides me would know that the gift bag was different. But, then again, I am the one who was going to NY for a baby shower and forgot the gift on the dining table, so what does that say about me?

Pressure... pushing down on me, pushing down on me...

I have an unusual skill that I wish I didn't have. It's not a skill actually, more than just a physical perception. I am, or rather, my sinuses act as a barometer. A guage of air pressure. Specifically, that rise in air pressure that usually preceeds a thunderstorm.

What happens? Generally this dull pain begins right between my eyes which then increases as time passes until such point that it either rains or the weather front passes, thereby releaving the air pressure.

It's summer in the Mid-Atlantic, which means thunderstorms all the time. It also means that I am absolutely miserable nearly every afternoon. And I've searched for other reasons over the years, like lack of caffiene and such, but none of these explanations correlate to the headaches other than the weather.

At this very moment... my head feels like it's going to explode. Make. It. Stop.

Self-promotion... well not self, per se but...

I'VE BEEN PROMOTED!!!!!

Whew. I was seriously nervous about it for a while now, thinking that it wasn't going to happen. Now I need to celebrate. So, I'm looking for suggestions on what fabulous thing I can treat myself with. To quote MS, "you have to let yourself WANT something first. let's start there. (sheesh)" Yeah, I'm usually not too good at that.

Graphic tastes

I want to thank Turg's buddy Weazel for the creation of a number of new banners for this blog. They are really fun and very me. I'll probably rotate them depending on my mood, since I like them all.

Pain in my butt

For years now, I have been dealing with a pain in my butt. I am not speaking of a person, but a literal pain in my butt. I have had butt and back pain for years which began in grad school during my tae kwon do training. It began as something minor, and progressed into something chronic. Pain in my lower back, butt and tingling in my foot, far worse in the right leg than the left, but there in both. I now have a name for this condition: piriformis syndrome.


It sucks. And it had been getting better for a while over the years - I stopped doing tae kwon do, stretched more, strengthened my back and core, did everything I was supposed to. Then I started working at a desk job, which apparently aggravates this condition. Great. The long drives to NYC don't help either, apparently.

I've recently started going to physical therapy for this... and I thought I was making progress. Things were feeling looser and freer. That was until Friday. I have no idea what I did between Wednesday morning (my previous PT session) and Friday morning. All I know is that when I sat down in the car, I felt pins and needles along my leg and bottom of my right foot. GAH! My right lower back has also been slowly tightening over the weekend. It's never a good sign when the first thing I say to my physical therapist is, "I have no idea what I did, but..." Yeah.

According to my physical therapist, I have "classic" piriformis syndrome. Pretty much textbook case. Which, I suppose, is good. No one wants to have an undiagnosable condition that takes years to figure out. No one wants to have a condition named after them. But after years of having it, I just wish it would go away.

In case anyone was worried if I took the cheese comment seriously at all...

Here I am in all of my fabulousness at the reception Saturday night...

And here's one of me and Turg, just cuz we're cute...

I like cheese, alright? Get off my back... (or things one should never say to a woman at a wedding reception)

This weekend was filled with much joy and laughter because of Crazy and SweetPea's wedding. At the rehearsal dinner Friday night, Turg gave Crazy this book as a gag:

The book was passed around and around at the rehearsal dinner, the reception and the day-after party. Big hit. Women all knew it was a fantasy (it's porn afterall) and (most of) the men found humor in it, particularly since they knew just how far fetched a lot of the stuff in it was... like, "Have another piece of cake. I don't like you looking so thin." See, fantasy.

Which brings me to the things that one should never say to a woman at a wedding reception (or any gathering with food, for that matter). Let me just say, like MS, I don't eat like a girl. I eat well, and healthily, but definitely not like a girl. I'll eat a steak over chicken anyday. I can outeat almost anyone at sushi or a crabhouse. And I love cheese - lots of cheese.

All of the following statements were made by one guy, my friend Lisa's husband, Gary, with whom I play softball (Lisa happens to play and is the manager of this team).

• (after spreading some brie on bread) "Is that sanctioned by team management? Should you be eating all those CARBS and FAT?"
• (after getting my plate from the dinner buffet) "Did you leave any food out there?"
• (general comment at the end of the evening) "I'm just looking out of the team. I don't want all this food to slow you down."

He kept looking to others for help. Crazy's brother just repeated, "Put the shovel DOWN!" But Gary wouldn't, and continued digging himself deeper all evening. In reality, I know he was just kidding. But, seriously now, who says this shit, even in jest?

Weddings on trampolines

Crazy and SweetPea's wedding was a wonderous, all-weekend affair. Both of them have great, fun-loving families, who love to drink and laugh. It made for great times. Particularly the Bride and Groom on the trampoline. What more is there to say really?

Crazy and SweetPea are getting married Saturday

Yay!

The piles are going to attack soon

So, since I am taking a couple of days off to help in the final preparations for Crazy and SweetPea's wedding, I essentially have been jamming to get as much done as possible. I don't like leaving loose ends when I'm away, even if it's only for a couple of days. I'd been doing rather well, and was feeling quite proud of myself for it. Of course, nothing is ever that easy, nor does life ever let you get off with a free pass.

For those who have never been in my office at work, I have a system. It's the "Post-It" system of easily knowing when things are due. Neat piles on shelves with little Post-it notes telling me when and to whom things are due. Team-lead documents on one shelf, consult documents on another, and on my desk, only the document on which I am currently working and any related references.

My piles were shrinking before I went to the Motherland this past weekend. That is, until right before I left. Documents started coming in. Coming in great teetering piles. More due in the next 2 weeks than I had at the beginning of last week. There are piles encroaching on my desk, and it makes me anxious. My preference is to have anything due in the next week finished before I take the day off, because I am a hand-raiser in that way... far too type A than I am usually willing to admit. I like having things done early. But for this, I can't. There is just no way. Just. No. Way. And I hate that feeling.

I think I may implode.

I know I'm still like this sometimes, but I'm glad all of you people have brought me back to normal... sorta.

Existing at the edge of consciousness

I barely slept last night... Rather, I did sleep, but it was sleep that was at the very edge of consciousness. You know, that type of sleep when you are keenly aware of all the sounds that are occurring, but it's not enough to wake you up. The type of sleep where you're not dreaming but it's not deep sleep. JS didn't sleep last night either... and I'm not terribly sure who kept whom awake.

It is taking every ounce of concentration I have right now to not fall asleep at my desk.