damily rants

I'm not posting about the big Thanksgiving we had on Saturday with the whole family, because it was just too traumatic, and the last thing I want to do is rehash it when everyone else is so busy rehashing it over dinner anyway.  I'm going to stick to my assertion that this damily (Freudian-typo slip that I am just going to leave in, because though he's mostly full of shit, this amused me) is just not prepared to deal with, or ready to face, Tiffy's death.  And I for one resent feeling pressured to do so. In fact, I'm doing a lot of resenting of family drama and obligations these days, which only convinces me further that I'm not operating within normal parameters. I've become an emotional zombie, and I'm just leaving it at that.

Still un-browned/steamed

The crab pot stickers were a huge hit, though; check them out, I finally uploaded all the pictures from my camera. We got pretty quick baggin' those suckers by the end of the first package of wraps.

I hear that someone might be bringing baggies of already-shelled crab (smart move) to make more of them this Friday night at the jamming session.  Unfortunately, I will miss it due to my Holiday Party at work, but I hope they make lots and lots so I can sneak into the kitchen late at night and wallow and filch until my fingers are dripping with the delicious sauce Johnny makes, mmmm!

Speaking of my work Holiday party:  because of the economic meltdown, my employer hasn't hosted a holiday party for the last two years following my transfer up to Washington State from the Los Angeles office; rather, they donated the money to charities.  So I don't really know how they throw a holiday party in this office, being so much smaller, and so... well, Seattle-like. :D  Is it staid? Is it boring? Is it tense and snobby?  Am I snobby?!  Anyway, I hadn't decided whether to go or not until Sarah, my fellow Korean-drama-watching-friend at work, invited me to be her date since her husband wouldn't be able to make it.  Which sounded like just the thing, since I fatalistically will not bother asking and being turned down again by John. Crowds make him anxious.  (That man of mine... he'll spend hours watching Asian dramas with me, and play his guitar and sing me to sleep when I need it. He'll also spend hours making the perfect homemade pot sticker and real ramen, but he won't take me out for all the free wining and dining that we could possibly want.  Sigh. /rant)

So that's what I'm going to do. Have a party. Without Johnny or Mary. :(

miss you, lucia

I wish we could hang out so much, I got all teary when I saw this picture. :( Yah, I'm a little emotional, granted, but I miss you. <3 You'd know just what to say. And trying--and failing--to get you drunk sounds heavenly.

Hope you're taking care of yourself.

old friends, old pain

Just this morning I finally found an old friend I'd been looking for for the last ten years, on Facebook of all things.  I'd done her wrong years ago---in the way really young, stupid, religious people do so many people wrong---and have wanted to change that reality for so long. I am really grateful for a potential opportunity to do just that.

It sucks to grow up enough to realize what a black and white person you are. As a teenager, I didn't even realize there was another way to look at the world; everything seemed so cut and dried. Maturity is just the scary realization of how very much you need to question everything you were taught was gospel truth. It really helps to surround yourself with a slew of people who see the world in shades of gray.

I see the same propensity in my 15-year-old daughter, who takes a great deal after myself. And I sigh; feel a little guilty, feel a little sorry for her... but she'll learn. I had to learn the hard way myself, and that included losing a really good friend over stupid rules. Though I can't foresee the hurdles she'll face, I can at least ensure that the only rules for human behavior that she really needs to trouble herself over while growing up is "respect each other" and "do unto others as you would have done unto you."  Period.

That pretty much covers it.

ihop ghetto gospel

It's been years now, but I still have the cup, and a story to tell.

I am ashamed to admit this, but I was about 30-years-old at the time. It took place in West Hollywood, when we lived down in Southern California. If I remember right--which is debatable--the usual group of us girls (Erin and Mary, Jenni and Aimee and myself) took our monthly trip to The Hive's showing to see Erin's art on display. And here's where the shame factors in; while ogling artists, their muses and the musicians, I consumed more than my share of the two-buck chuck they sell in the back ($2 a glass for Charles Shaw. :P)  By the time the gaggle of us pulled into the West Hollywood IHOP--am I the only one who thinks an IHOP in West Hollywood seems like an oxymoron?--I was struggling with some really intense inner-ear-induced vertigo. When we were shown to our booth, pancakes and who-knows-what were ordered all around as I sprawled over on my side in the booth, too-buck-fucked to care about the spectacle I was making of myself at 2 am in the morning. I dozed / worked hard not to puke and ruin everyone's fun—and thereby missed the snarky comments from a couple tables over.


I didn't see what happened an hour later, as I teetered on my heels out the IHOP door--tugging at my hair (is it sticking straight up?) and feeling a little less vomitous and quite relieved for my nap. But not long after I hit the sidewalk, wondering blurrily where we'd parked, Jenni came flying by, raging amazon of invectives and kinky black curls. I heard howls of outrage, laughter behind me… what had I missed? Behind me strolled Aimee, blasé faire, as well as Mary and Erin, showing the whites of their eyes and encouraging speed, speed, speed.

Ugh, do you want me to vomit on you?

In the car, the story unfolded, loud and animated. It went like this:

As I'd teetered past the table of gay boys--"West Hollywood, hoity-toity, snarky gay, you know the ones!"--on my way out of IHOP, the last straw an unforgivable transgression was committed against me. One snickered:

"Feeling better now?"

Deafened by alcohol, I passed without registering this egregious insult, but a lesson was stalking their way regardless. Fed up to her eyebrows by the attitude they’d been dishing since we arrived, Jenni grabbed a bottle of syrup from a nearby table, and proceeded to dump the stuff all over the perpetrator's hand and plate of food.

Less than 60-seconds later, as a shaky Erin peeled out down the strip, Aimee reached across Mary and hands me an IHOP mug, nabbed from the table. “For a souvenir,” she says.

* * *

Though my response might have been quite different than Jenni’s, I love the fierce loyalty she can be depended on showing family and friends. On weekend mornings as I sip my coffee from the IHOP mug, I remember bits of that night: the smell of the IHOP fake-leather booth, listening to 3 different versions of the entire story as we sped down the strip, thanking every gawd there is that we hadn’t been lynched, tumbling into Jenni’s apartment and seeing the baffled look on Johnny’s face as 5 grown women who are far too old to be pulling pranks like these try to explain why I am clutching stolen property… makes me all mushy and sentimental.

By the by, Drinking in LA by Bran Van 3000 will forever rank up there in the soundtrack of my memories of Los Angeles.

a friend's handmade birthday present

I wanted to show off beautiful present a friend made for my birthday this last month. This isn't the only piece of hers she's shared; I've also received a beautiful vase and Christmas ornament. But this one was just astonishing, how she managed to combine into one piece so many beloveds. I am known to buy random beautiful boxes for no other reason than I am obsessed with boxes, so it's very shape is intriguing. ;) But it's surface design, probably that of a fish (as we're both pisces), also makes me think of dragons. I was born in the year of the dragon according to Chinese astrology, so it fits both so perfect.

Then, I opened it up to discover the most adorable little owl sitting inside. Ahhh!

It fits right over my finger, tee-hee.

Thank you, Alyss! I love it!

for those i love who hate facebook

Random facts:

1. The thing I hate most about my body is the fact that you can see every tiny little vein under my skin, because it's so pale it's, apparently, translucent. I used to think I was born with varicose veins until someone explained what they really were to me.

2. I grew up singing duets and melodies with my mother and sister whenever we were in the car together. I still hum counterpoint melodies under my breath to songs if I think no one's around.

3. I am one of those people who feel very uncomfortable sharing personal details about themselves in the workplace.

4. My reading list reads like a teenage boy's: manga, sci-fi and fantasy.

5. I've been writing fiction since I was 11 years old, and my first story was supposed to be a trilogy. (Fail)

6. I started writing my own stories when my mother took away my latest book in an attempt to try to get me to do my chores. I decided to defiantly disappear into my room and begin writing my own book, thank you very much.

7. Now that I am a mother myself, I wish to humbly beg my mother's forgiveness for being such a freakin' bitch. Sorry, mom; really.

8. I turn stress inward and create a mean acid-ball in my stomach. If anyone needs pointers on the various uses of Mylanta, I know none. I hate the stuff. I'd rather walk hunched over and grumble incessantly (see #12).

9. If I had to pick a single store to buy all my clothes from, it would be Anthropologie.

10. I have a shoe obsession. The ratio of how many shoes I own, versus how many shoes anyone else in my family owns, is criminal. About 10:1.

11. I love almost nothing more than walking on the beach, collecting shells (for which you need special shoes, nah-hah). I never want to move away from the water.

12. I am a big, fat whiner.

13. I've never lived in a single house or apartment for longer than 2 years.

14. I haven't a motherly bone in my body. Or molecule.

15. If I could study anything formally, it would be world cultures. I resent that I will be old by the time I understand anything profound about all the cultures in the world. There are too many of them, and I want to visit them all.

16. I've watched more Korean, Japanese or Taiwanese television shows than American ones.

17. I am an idealist. (Hence, I despise reality or reality-based television shows.)

18. I typically won't educate myself about politics because I end up getting enraged. And then I just want to move to France or Norway. It feels masochistic.

19. I predict libraries will soon have "e-readers" instead of library cards, and library books will all be electronic that you can download for 14 days. I think Neal Stephenson should design the prototype.

20. I've been romantically involved with the same person for over half my life.

21. I absolutely love the atmosphere of Jazz from the Roaring 20's.

22. I'm far too lazy to wear nail polish.

23. When I laugh, even a little, my eyes start watering like I'm crying.

24. I am to living plants as toxic waste is to that person in the punctured protective suit. Slowly but surely, I kill them. It may be fast, or it may be drawn out and dirty, but they're dead, regardless.

25. My dream job is to own a bookstore, or be an editor for sci-fi/fantasy authors.

introducing tuesday

It's Tuesday, yes. But the Tuesday I am introducing is Tuesday Weld, the common box turtle. He--yes, "he"; his sex was unknown at the time he was dubbed thus and I rather think he doesn't mind!--was found meandering along a road in Los Angeles by a dear family friend, Pedro. Pedro has the magic touch with both plants and animals. He is, simply, the Green Man. He can make anything grow, and makes a living as a gardener. But with animals, they simply find him. In his Garden-of-Eden-In-Los-Angeles yard, there lives a tribe of dogs (too many breeds for me to keep straight!), cats, doves and various other birds, and whatever other animals have found their way to him recently. I think troubled and lost animals have some sort of gossip chain, a Lost Gazette, which his scent, address and route to work is published--"for those in need".

Sleeping with his head on his hand!

Tuesday was one of those Lost Souls, wandering along a major street in Los Angeles (one of the highest known causes of death for box turtles, along with heavy collection of wild turtles for selling as pets). Box turtles are semi-aquatic--we can only surmise he was an escaped pet, because I don't think he was a native. Box turtles aren't great wanderers. He may have eventually found Burbank lake... within a couple years. But the Green Man wasn't willing to bet. And hence our family inherited the cutest little personality ever to reside in a reptile.

Tuesday Weld-see the resemblance?

Today I was clearing out of a box, and was unpleasantly surprised by a little house spider, scurrying around on the article of clothes I was holding. Pheugh! Without a thought I flipped it off--and watched the spider go sailing into Tuesday's cage. ARGH. And with its spider-sense, damn it, went scuttling straight for Tuesday, and disappeared under/in (??!!) his shell. Nooooaahhooooo!!

Tuesday didn't so much as blink. (Cute, eh? ;D) Of course, he would ideally be living outside with plenty of spiders, and turtles are known for consuming a few insects. And slugs. But that's not the point.

Sorry, Tuesday! Itadakimasu!

shameless fangirl gushing

Yesterday I went to the local summer music/art street festival with my friend Mary. The festival itself was a fairly standard street fair--nothing has eclipsed the Sunset Strip Music festival in my experience yet. However, I got the most delicious shock while wandering the stalls.

We found the stall of one of my absolute favorite artists ever, Jenna Colby, whom Mary and I had been huge fans of since we saw her stuff debut in The Hive art gallery in Los Angeles, about 3 years ago. And she just happened to be there, at the festival--in person. I was so pleased to meet Jenna. I bought the pieces pictured here, and we chatted about some stuff I will post separately--because I don't want to eclipse here how awesome it was to meet Jenna in person. ;)

I already had a couple of her other pieces, purchased in LA and then through an artist collective here where I live in the Pacific Northwest. Am I the only one who finds it ironic that I discovered her stuff during the three years that I lived in Los Angeles, rather than before (or after) when I lived in the same place as she?

I love the atmosphere of her art. Visit her website--poke around, it's fun! She had a very eclectic variety of media, including sculptures and vases.

i feel like a god

After being inspired by my friend for years now, I finally manage to inspire her! Check out her delicious taste in music here.