I told you the pups were livin’ it up in Cali. Here’s Martin in his new pillow. FYI, we have a 1 BR apartment: the dogs have FOUR pillows plus full access to the couch!

Here’s Remy sneakin’ in. They’re playing musical chairs or something!

As much as I tried to fight her off, Frumpy’s back. You see, I started going to the gym regularly back in April. I wasn’t intending to lose weight; I just wanted to stop ingesting so much junk, and I wanted to be able to run for thirty minutes without greeting death at my door. Well it’s two months later now, and I’ve unexpectedly dropped down to my lightest weight since probably college. The good news is that I feel healthier and stronger. I’ve always been on the slim side; now I’m just slim-mer. But no worries, I’ve held at this weight for a couple weeks now and according to my BMI, I’m on the lower end of the “normal” weight range. I don’t intend on slimming down any further– gotta keep what little curves I got 😉

The bad news is my relatively new pants, which I purchased in late February/early March, are now baggy. Poofy in the butt (which has gone from zero to sub-zero) and frumpy in the front. Fuck. And they are beautiful pants too. On Pamela’s advice, I had actually stretched beyond my 100 RMB-per-piece limit and invested. Guess I’ll try taking them to a tailor. I do hope they’re salvageable, as I’m not in the mood to return to square one.

OMG, I am a freaking moron! As you know, I hosted Game Night II at my place last weekend. Well part of the party preparations included cleaning off my grill. As a practically permanent fixture on my patio, the grill was all nasty with dust and grime. So before the party, I gave it a good scrubbing… in my shower (my patio has a drain but no faucet– go figure!). At the time, I thought this was a brilliant idea, since my shower head is one of those handheld apparatuses. There I stood, in the shower, scrubbing to my heart’s content. La dee da, sloughing off clobs of black crap and watching it float into the drain.

Duh! Like a total retard with no common sense (much less an engineering degree), I didn’t even register the possibility of a clog. Well, congratulations. I win the idiot prize. The very next day, I hop in the shower and within two minutes, I’m standing in an inch of gray, oily water. What was I thinking? I ignored the problem for a few days: maybe the stoppage would somehow unclog itself. After I could no longer take pruny, greasy feet, I decided to cram my thick cable bike lock down the drain. Since the piping beneath the bathroom sink shoots straight down (no air trap), I assumed the shower pipe would have the same design. Wrong, there was a frickin’ elbow ten inches down. I kept jamming my cable lock in and out of the pipe. No luck. Next, I tried my wire/cable clothing line. Too flexible. Third up? Acid. I poured straight vinegar down the drain. I know, I could have just gone searching for Drano, but frankly, I didn’t know whether the supermarket would even have that stuff. Plus, vinegar was within reach. Well, that didn’t work either. After suffering from a few more days of shrively feet, I called the maintenance dude today. He ran the water, put my toilet sucker over the drain, gave it a few hard pumps, and bam. Just. Like. That. Unclogged. Je-sus, I am a total dumbass. Why the hell didn’t I think of that? WHY?

In other news, Joon celebrated his 25th birthday yesterday. A group of twelve chowed down at Oriental, an MTV (Myramar, Thai, Vietnamese) place. Pretty tasty. Afterwards, a handful of us went to his place where we talked about treacherous beasts (anacondas, the Loch Ness monster, aliens) and the incredible intelligence of other people (aliens, possibly?), specifically, those responsible for the Great Pyramids, Stonehenge, crop circles, etc. Yeah, so in conclusion, I’m a dumbo…

Breathe in. Breathe out. Whew, it’s been a tough week. Juggling the usual tasks, but on top of that, John and I had a couple tiffs. You know how draining those can be… We’re coming up on ten years together this August (was I really only 20 when we met?), and actually the last couple of years have been pretty much skirmish-free. Until now. I suppose his stressful new position doesn’t help. Nor do the distance and my internal issues. I’ve had some trouble sleeping. I just really want to maximize things: you know, the Mandarin learning, my remaining days here, my life in general. I want my shit pulled together and figured out. And then there’s that whole “career” issue. God, the career is so overrated but still, it’s tough seeing people’s faces when I explain I just want a challenging and enjoyable job. I don’t know if anything will develop into a “career,” but for now I’m just focused on getting a job. They give me this look like I’m a slacker or something. It’s not as if my experiences don’t follow any kind of theme…

ANYway, John and I have worked out the kinks now. I’m most definitely on the prowl, job hunting for opportunities in the Bay area. I’ve decided on a three-prong approach that hopefully will put my writing/training/web development skills to use with nonprofit women’s orgs, nonprofit environmental conservation orgs, and private-sector tech companies. The Bay area is a tech hotspot after all… might as well experience working for a dot com or something. Unexpectedly enough, the other day I was thrilled to discover that Google has a philanthropic arm, Google.org. That could be sooo good. Anyone out there a Google-ite?

I’ve been in a foul mood this week. For one, I fucked up my sleep schedule staying up til 3 a.m. one night reading a shitty book, The Lost Daughter of Happiness. Written by a native Shanghainese woman who is now living in San Francisco, the book appeared promising. I mean, come on, all the elements are there: Shanghai, San Francisco, Chinese author, trafficking in women. Plus, the book was recommended by a friend. Well, shit. I was disappointed as hell. Read half and wasn’t that thrilled. Somehow though, I was convinced it had to get better, so I continued skipping ahead. I suppose the main turnoff was shifting perspectives. The story was mostly third person, but then there were these awkward first person sections. The flow was choppy and the language a bit forced. Maybe the translator messed things up. I don’t know. Then again, I could have just grown impatient and frustrated with the weak and passive protagonist. I mean, yes, she’s a trafficked woman but STILL, I’m sure there are strong women who are trafficked and still trapped inside the system. Ugh. Anyway, thank goodness for Princess Melissa. Yes, she’s the one from Real World New Orleans, but don’t hold it against her. She actually hates being tagged with Real World, and you know what? I kicked my Real World habit YEARS ago. The point is, Melissa rocks. You have to check her out.