Bizarro-World

Since Turg and I got engaged, my Dad has slowly but surely been getting used to the idea of the fact that Turg's not going anywhere. For a bit of background, my Dad has pretty much spent the last nearly 12 years doing everything in his power to deny that Turg existed. I would try talking to him about Turg, and be ignored. Turg would try talking to him, (you know, general pleasantries, like "how are you?") and would be answered with nothing more than a grunt. But we got engaged, and I got the generic Dad response of "Good luck to you."

Then Turg had hernia surgery. Ever since then, Dad has been incredibly concerned about Turg's well being - constantly asking how he's doing and if he's taking it easy, etc. Flash forward to this past weekend, Father's Day, watching TV:

Dad (thoughtfully): (Turg)'s a nice guy.
Me (cocking head like a puppy): *blink blink* Er?
Dad: Don't be too hard on him...

WHAT?!?! Don't be too hard on him?? I felt like I was in Bizarro-World, where no means yes and everyday is opposite day.

Ruminations...

Sometimes I just feel like a hack. It's a very strange thing. For all of my accomplishments, and even with all the people in my life, work or otherwise, telling me how proud they are, how highly they think of me, or whatever, I often feel like I don't deserve it or that somehow I've got everyone fooled. I mean, people come to me for my "expert" opinion about crap. That's what I'm paid to do. To give an expert analysis. Whatever.

What brought this on this time? I interviewed for another temporary promotion the other day, and was told yesterday that I had been selected for the second half of the term. I was very surprised and excited, particularly since this position is in my current division. This morning, I had a short chat with my director and she said she thought very highly of me, and even though I'm not ready yet for a permanent position(something I very clearly agree with, and said so in my interview), I will be soon, and that there will be more opportunities soon... "If you know what I mean."

Oh, god.

I'm surrounded by so many incredibly intelligent and talented people. And I'm not one who compares oneself to others, but it is intimidating sometimes. For all of my confidence and bravura, I still sometimes think that I'll be discovered for a poser - that somehow that's who I really am. Eeeeeeehhhhhh.... *breathe*

I'll be better tomorrow.... I hope.

More evidence of getting old

Everyone hits a certain age where they feel like things start to go, literally and figuratively, south. And recently, there have been many things which make one feel "Older than the Crypt Keeper." You know, small poochies and wrinkles where there were none before. I offer into evidence (and these are not flattering pictures at all, but they are candid) my discovery that I am beginning to get old-lady knees:


















Blegh.

The hard drive for my work laptop failed yesterday. Failed. As in, I cannot access anything. I cannot even boot up.

It happened at 5:30pm. On a Friday. Which means I cannot even report it until first thing Monday morning. All I keep thinking is "I haven't backed up in a really long time. All my work is essentially gone."

I want to throw up.

SOLD!!

Heeeeee! I'm so excited, I cannot even put into words. I got a message Friday evening from the owner of the store where my jewelry is being sold. Two pieces of jewelry have been sold!!! A man came in and bought these pieces for his wife for Valentine's Day:



God, I don't even know what to say. Someone bought MY STUFF!!! I've made the identical pieces again and am bringing them to the store tomorrow - we have to make sure they have inventory!! Heeeeeeeee!!! *giddily jumping up and down*

Seriously. I should not be ALLOWED to come into the office on Wednesdays.

Why? Because I am a total hot mess on Wednesdays. See, Wednesdays are usually my work at home days. But for the last couple of weeks, I've been in charge, which means no working at home. Problem is, it seems like whenever I come to the office on Wednesday, a whole bunch of stuff just goes wrong.

This morning, I had to fight with the dog to lock him in the bedroom because the workmen are FINALLY coming to paint the wall from the ceiling leak (which occurred a month ago - but we won't go there). Then, running late (see fight with dog), the lid pops off my mug and tea spills all over the car. After spending a bunch of time cleaning it up, I prepare to leave, grab my new sunglasses and the arm falls off (screw came out). I hadn't even left the freakin' garage yet! I nearly said screw it and walked back upstairs, but I have too much crap to do and meetings today.

Well, I'm here, at my desk. My sunglasses are fixed - I have a repair kit in my desk. (Hey, I work in ophthalmic products. Of course I have a repair kit.) I realized I didn't lose that much of my tea, and I am enjoying it now. And I am trying to get perspective on the fact that it's all good. I will be fine. And later I will have a good laugh about it. Well... maybe tomorrow.

Wishing Upon Stardust

I don't make New Year's resolutions. I just don't. But this New Year's, Magenta made one for me. That I would put myself out there and attempt to sell my jewelry, in some fashion.

In the past 2 years that I've been making jewelry, I've been wanting, but been too scared to sell anything. I've given a bazillion gifts, but not sold. Why? Because when you give stuff away, people generally accept graciously. When you're selling, people must choose to buy. There have been many people in my life who have been saying, what the hell are you waiting for?? Hence, the New Year's Resolution by MS above.

Well, yesterday, I showed my jewelry to a new upscale boutique in the area, and both the owner and designer agreed that they would sell my jewelry!! It will be on a consignment basis to begin with. But I'm out there. I'm so terribly excited, that I can't even put into words.

The only thing I did not have was a name for my jewelry line. Until now. So, beginning today, my jewelry line will be known as Stardust River Jewelry. Why? Stardust to give the feeling of sparkling and glimmering (and it also happens to be the name of a book and movie from Neil Gaiman, who I love). River because the literal translation of the Chinese character for my last name is "large river," a fact that I had never taken advantage of previously.

I'm soooo excited! You'll hear much more about this soon.

I am apparently a dork above dorks...

I don't remember when it was that MS said that I was the "queen of the nerds," but apparently I am the leader of the dorks too...

From my workmates:

Cleaning surfaces

I had one of those "cleaning surfaces" moment the other day. And it's pretty much been continuous since then... I'm in a "cleaning surfaces" kind of mood. What does this mean? This is a label MS gave to a certain type of behaviour. It's the point where you can't take the clutter anymore and start cleaning. For me, I usually just snap. Justlikethat. And start moving shit around and throwing shit out. JS was looking at me the other evening, at 9pm when I just started cleaning the apartment, like I was a total nutcase.

And it continued through the weekend. Yesterday, the surface of choice happened to be the car. I didn't take it to the carwash. I HAD to do it myself. It's a state of mind, I think. A physical manifestation of trying to clear out my head. Or maybe the apartment is just a mess. Who the hell knows.

I didn't get as much cleaned in the apartment as I would have liked... I feel like I'm drowning in clutter. At least the furniture is back where it's supposed to be - sorta.

One of those days...

Let's re-live a blast from the past. The details have been changed since then in terms of the morning routine. The part that didn't change from this post from the past: my mug of tea committing suicide from the roof of my car. And me standing there, blank-faced and staring as my tea was running through the crevices of the asphalt.

Thank god it's not Monday, or else I would have just gone back home and ridden the rest of the week off.

American Airlines SUCKS!

And I am never flying on them again. Now, nothing can ruin the fact that I had a fabulous vacay with my fabulous girlfriends (more on this later, with pictures). But, I did come home on a very big downer. My flight was supposed to be at 5:35pm Tuesday. When I got to the airport, I was told that the flight was delayed until 7:20pm. That sucks, but I can deal. By the time I got to the gate, the flight wasn't leaving until 7:45pm. Also, a little bit longer, and I'm getting more agitated, but I can deal. Then comes the announcement, first in Spanish. The only things I recognize are 6:30 and mañana. Then it comes in English. The flight has been canceled for the evening and will not leave until 6:30am the following morning. The pilot has gone over his flying hours and the only plan they had was to beg the pilot to do the last flight. Yeah, THAT was going to work. So we all have to go downstairs, get our luggage and they would put us all up in hotels for the night.

I go to get my hotel voucher. Ask the guy what hotels they are putting us up in. He says the Best Western, why? I give him the "Oh, God, you've GOT to be kidding" face and say, "Well, there are certain hotels I would just rather not stay in, being a woman traveling alone and all." He books me at the Marriot. I wake up at the ass crack of dawn to get to the airport. Take a million years to get through security. Make it to the gate in time to hear the last boarding call. But get on the plane, get myself an emergency row seat with more leg room and quickly fall asleep. It's no time before we're landing in DC. I'm nearly home. It's 10:30am.

I go to baggage claim to get my one checked bag. And wait. And wait. And wait some more. There's a couple minutes pause. Then bags from another flight start coming out. WHAT THE EF?!? Where is my bag??? I go to the counter and find out that they have no idea where my bag is. It was never scanned. They assume it's still in the San Juan Airport, but they don't know for sure. This is the point I completely lost it. Standing at the counter crying my eyes out, totally frustrated with the whole ordeal.

I finally got home at about 1pm yesterday. Slept for almost the rest of the day. The good thing is they called this morning and have my bag at Dulles. They'll be delivering it later today. I'm glad for that. But this is the second time in three years that American Airlines has left me stranded overnight on the way back from Puerto Rico.

I'm never flying American Airlines again. They suck.

Update 12:55pm: My bag has been delivered. All is right. American Airlines still sucks.

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.)

(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.

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.

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?

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

Stuck in a moment...

I've been in better moods. It's one of those times where pretty much everything is off. Unmotivated. Tired. Busy. Moody. Not enough hours in the day... yet the days feel like they drag on forever.

I think it's time to refocus on the little things that make me happy. I've let life get in the way of living for a little too long, I think. Time to get out of this rut!

Hot Potato (the final word)

Well, I knew it was coming. Here is the final report emailed to everyone in the building about the "event" yesterday:

To: 9200 ----- Occupants
From: ---- Health and Safety Office

Subject: Emergency Evacuation at 9200, April 23, 2007

On Monday, April 23, 2007 fire alarms sounded in response to a "smoke event" from a microwave oven on the second floor. This alarm triggered a call to the alarm monitoring company and in turn Montgomery County Fire and Rescue was dispatched.

According to the alternate Occupant Emergency Coordinator, all emergency evacuation procedures were followed and "there was a good evacuation with all floors reporting in". It was reported that security did not immediately unlock two of the three glass doors at the main entrance at the building. It is unclear why these doors were locked at all during normal business hours. --- security has been notified and we have requested that all three doors remain unlocked while the security guards are on duty.

After a review of the situation, the --- Safety Office feels that the current evacuation plan worked as intended and would like to thank all occupants for their cooperation.

If you have any questions, please contact the --- Safety Office at 301-***-****.

A "smoke event." That just seems so... dull.

Hot Potato (one more thing)

... I forgot to mention one more detail. When the 3 firetrucks showed up, the firemen actually got out, dressed in full gear, with oxygen tank and all, and made their way into the building to check for the source of the alarm. The weren't exactly rushing. It was more like they were on a Sunday stroll... if you consider wearing all that gear on an 80 degree day to check out a smoking tater tot a Sunday stroll.