Category Archives: Events

London + Paris

Whew, I’m finally back on the plane headed home. Thank goodness. Don’t get me wrong: Bubs and I had a great time in London and Paris. We did TONS and we really enjoyed catching up with friends and family… That said, both of us are also ready to return to our bubble. It’s funny, bc when most people vacation, esp somewhere far away, they go for AT LEAST two weeks since they’re “already traveling so far.” But for us, ten days felt a little long: we get fatigued being away from home. Next time, maybe shave off another day or two. Shrug.

Both cities were amazing, offering lots of walking (which we enjoy), breathtaking landmarks and architecture, tasty foods, and easy transportation, but dayum, we are tired, boss! For one, there’s the jetlag. Bubs had flown in from NYC (EST) and I from California (PST), and then we met in London so it was the intersection of three substantially different time zones. Then, I’m out of shape and neither of us is used to walking 15-20k steps/day, so our bodies definitely had to adjust. (On average, J clocks about 10k and I do like a lame 2k.) Second, the weather in London was cold, rainy, and windy… What can I say, the Valley has made me soft to the elements. Add to that, we did way too much eating out, so yeah, too many bodily changes going on at once. After so many days of hard living (excessive eating/drinking), our stool is coming out like rabbit pellets. Seriously.

Typically, J and I are superstar packers, but this trip was kinda a fail. I blame Bub’s business trip to NYC: he had all his fancy shirts, a blazer, a work bag, his shiny shoes, etc. Then we were also misled by his eldest sister, a shopping aficionado who urged us to take a big suitcase for “all the goods” we were going to buy. It ended up just being kinda cumbersome to lug around.

But that info is just boring details explaining why we felt so damn tired. On the positive side, we had a fun adventure. London reminded me a little bit of Canada, where the common language kinda fools your brain into thinking you know the country and culture but shit is off just enough that something feels amiss. In London, my highlights included having afternoon tea (tea biscuits and scones with clotted cream and jam) with our friends whom we met over a decade ago in Shanghai. They’re very unconventional, and the lady is quite entrepreneurial, so I enjoyed hearing her interesting business ideas. Entrepreneurial people are so refreshing bc I never have to explain why I left my shitty jobs (as with my college roommate and her “what job number is this for you now?” comment). J and I also had some incredible meals, including some fresh, new Mediterranean flavors from Chef Ottelenghi at his restaurant Nopi. Les Mis at the Queen’s Theater was a memorable night: our seats were perfect, just far enough so our necks weren’t strained and stretched but close enough that we were in the midst of the action. Surprisingly, I didn’t completely lose my shit during the performance like I normally do… I mean, I really am wed to the NYC Broadway rendition of the songs… That’s just what I grew up on, and frankly, it’s always going to be my gold standard.

After five days in London, we hopped the Eurostar train to Paris. The ride was pricey (next time, get the tickets in advance!) but comfortable, if somewhat restless. There was an Indian family next to us who brought on their entire lunch– bento boxes of curries, naan, rice, and all– and proceeded to have a freakin’ party on board. To my amazement, they talked THE WHOLE TIME, like 2.5 hrs.!?!? Who has so much to say amongst family??

Paris was a really beautiful transition. Unlike the clouds and gloom of London, the weather was warm and sunny, at least for the first two days. Thank goodness I packed three different outerwear, bc I used it all on this trip. I shed my big puffer and switched over to my thin athletic jacket topped with my F21 red pleather. I was feeling pretty badass and chic sporting my MJ jacket with my edgy side shave. Haha. Yup, side shade (aka quasi-mullet) made its European debut.

In Paris, we met up with J’s youngest sis S and our niece M. S is a project manager, so we got a shit ton of landmarks crossed off our lists in just a few hours. Traveling with other people is always a riot: M was super lax; S was aggressive about hitting the sites; then, as a group there was a lot of indecision (due to decision fatigue?) re: food/drink spots. Usually, J and I like to leave the hotel, come back mid day to rest/nap in the room, and then go out again. On the there hand, S is very much an out all day until late evening kind of traveler. Her very first day in, she got off the 10 hr flight from SFO, cabbed 30 min to the hotel, and then stayed up and out until 11pm. The next two nights, after all of us spent the entire day out, she and J hit up a nearby bar at like 11pm. I declined: I was so tired and the bar scene is even more exhausting. That night they got home after the bar CLOSED at 2am. The next night, it was the same deal except Bubs came home after the first bar closed at 2am, and S continued to hit a second bar with some new friends she made at the first bar! She got back to the hotel at 6am!?!? Hard core, I tell you. She was asking us how late we normally stay out on the weekends. Um, same as during the week, lady. Bubs goes to bed around 9 or 10; I fall asleep around midnight or 1. If we go out, we are almost always home by 11p.

So of course, after we retired to our rooms one of the nights, Bubs was all sighing and stuff. “We need to have better hobbies or new activities for when we travel. We need to be more fun.” Yada, yada, yada. I mean, I’m the first person to be inspired by how other people live their lives, but sometimes it’s so fucking frustrating being downplayed. I mean, I drink but I don’t really go to bars and drink a lot nor do I make friends with strangers in such settings, so what, now that means I’m boring and no fun? Or I’m not a huge shopper who goes overseas and brings back a bunch of loot, so now I have no interests and hobbies? I started getting a little defensive with Bubbey, bc why do I have to keep defending or justifying how I live my life? Am I supposed to keep apologizing for not being the way other people are? When does this stop, this mentality that there is something wrong with me or us and our choices? I dunno. I was annoyed. I mean, already I have self acceptance issues about my career, so please don’t pile on all this other shit. If you want to be a different person with different interests, have at it. But don’t impose that shit onto me. Like the whole bar scene. I’ve given it plenty of tries, and I just don’t like it. I’m not going to apologize for not jiving with it.

I digress. I’ve missed my Marty a lot on this trip. I’ve been really happy with the frequent updates from the sitter. I think I found a good one, so it’s a relief to have options esp since I might be headed back East or to Taiwan again soon. I’m also excited to start cooking at home again. Apparently, there IS such a thing as “too much of a good thing.” Seriously. My body needs to stop shitting rabbit poop and get back to normalcy.[FAG id=7453]

Plant Thieves

For a long while now, J and I have been feeling pretty tired. The last time something like this happened, a coworker of mine suggested I call PGE to check our gas lines and low and behold, they found a pinhole gas leak at the bottom of one of our wall heaters! So, it’s been on my list to just have everything checked once again. I didn’t feel like this qualified for a major emergency, so on Monday, I just called the main line. I was on hold for fucking ever. Finally, I just decided to send in an email. The time was around noon. Basically, I said that we had been feeling tired and the last time this happened, the tech found a small leak. I mentioned this, yes, with the intention of moving it up the queue, but seeing as we had been (possibly) living with this for a while, I didn’t necessarily classify it as URGENT. So I pressed send and went about my day, practically forgetting about the whole email.

At 3 o’clock in the morning, Bubs had fallen asleep on the couch and I was in bed. My phone was buzzing nonstop. Some 877 number. Then I got a bunch of Google voice text messages from PGE: the tech was saying he was here and trying to get inside our gate (which I lock at night with a bolt). I ran out to the living room, and Bubs suddenly got up, saying someone was in the yard. I opened the door and the PGE guy was like, did you just put this ticket in at 2:50 a.m.? Um, no!! Something about how it was urgent and he had to check the house with a gas meter. WTF?? Bubs and I were all disoriented and then I realized what had happened. OMFG. I could not stop laughing. Consumer advocate in action! So the dude was unable to get through to us, so he basically got himself inside the gate and started checking the gas meter in the front of the house. Prior to that, homeboy had also rung the doorbell, which Bub thought was part of his dream. Jesus Christ. Ever since that whole thing happened with Mo and we were unable to get a hold of ANYBODY in the middle of the night, I always sleep with my phone nearby bc shit, emergencies happen. But even so, it took the dude 10-15 min to get us up and moving! Kinda a scary thing to realize. After the initial gas scan, he said PGE would return the next day to check gas on all the appliances in the house (stove, 2 wall furnaces, gas water heater). After he left, Bubs and I had a good laugh. Bubbey said he didn’t know what the hell was going on. He heard the doorbell in his dream and then when he finally registered that someone was outside, he thought the person was trying to steal our plants (yes, the ones that have mostly already been planted into the ground OUTSIDE the front gate). Ah well, obviously, a sleepy brain doesn’t make a lot of sense. I have to admit though: I was a little disappointed bc I always want to live by this quote from the movie Heat. “Don’t let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you feel the heat around the corner.” Clearly, we are just not ready to handle the heat coming around the corner.

In other news, I spoke to dad yesterday. What’s fucking new, he’s majorly stressed again and sounding down. Still dizzy and just in a sad mood. I think his health is really freaking him out, so now more than ever, he is hurrying to consolidate, simplify, tie up loose ends, and take care of business. In other words, he KNOWS mom can’t handle jackshit, so he’s gotta have it all squared away. Fucking co-dependence. Don’t even get me started. Of course, just as the doctor was telling him too much stress and too much long distance traveling was contributing to his problems, Dad books another fucking flight back to Taiwan for May/June. Jesus Christ. Calm the hell down already. I swear, if I am on this same trajectory of stress and micromanaging every goddamn detail, I’ve got to step up the resistance. For realz. Don’t let me go down that path. Incidentally, what this new travel plan means is that I will probably be headed back to Taiwan some time in June to coincide my visit with the parents and check in again on the three grandparents. Of course, that’s my bday month, so I’ve got to tread lightly. Just what I fucking need: daily volcanic eruptions with mom near my bday, right? Shit, I need to start therapy again now just as preventative medicine. FML.

Discovery Island

I’ve been in big time product discovery mode lately. My mind’s been back in overdrive and to make matters worse, Marty’s doggie dementia recently hit new heights. Every night, he was panting excessively, scratching his bed like a maniac, and just being generally neurotic, unsettled, and jumpy. J and I were both at wit’s end. “He’s going down!! We can’t take this anymore!” we screamed. Then one night, I started researching doggie dementia again, and holy crap, I came across a forum where so many people are having the same issues! They lamented about how much joy their dogs brought to their lives and yet, they were really at the end of their tethers bc the old dogs were practically unrecognizable in behavior. There was this palpable tension of being frustrated and sleep deprived, teetering on the verge of pulling the plug but then also still wanting to honor the lifelong friendship with their pets. Ah, the heartbreak! Many things, I’d come across before: Rescue Remedy, Thundershirt, melatonin, Benadryl, and then… Apawthecary Tranquility Blend AND Hyland Calms Forte. Huh? I went to Amazon and read the reviews. Bam! Ordered. The homeopathic tincture arrived last Monday and holy Jesus Mary and Joseph: Marty has been sleeping through the night for the last seven days. As for me, I’ve been taking the Calms Forte tablets and what the what? Sleep for all!!! No waking up on the 2-3 hour OB/GYN or new parents’ cycle. Fucking miracle!!! We’re all saved. I haven’t slept this well in YEARS.

Of course, my research did not stop there. Bc of the Muddy Waters incident, an acquaintance directed me to Norwex microfiber cleaning cloths, recommending that I use them for the new sectional… except that Norwex works with water and my sofa is water-free only (cleaning code S). Nonetheless, what’s this product she’s raving about? I investigated. Holy crap. $30 for a pair of microfiber cloths?? Can they really be that phenomenal? I was intrigued. Well, this necessitated drilling deeper, bc you know I’m a cheap bastard. Whatdya know? I came across the blog of a former Norwex rep (FYI Norwex is a direct sales/MLM-style company, like Mary Kay, Amway, JuicePlus, etc.). The rep said she absolutely loved their cloths, but they were too damn pricey. She found a cheaper alternative, called ecloths. So I ordered those just to see what all this fuss was about. The cloths arrived last week and holy cow. Every glass surface in my house is now spotless– even cleaner than with Windex + newspaper, which already was already freaking trail-blazing, in my opinion. And with just water!!! I was so excited, I couldn’t wait for Bubbey to get home that day to see the difference. Sadly, when he got home the sun had already gone down and he couldn’t really tell. But, the next morning, even Bubs was impressed. That shit is cray! You will have to see for yourself.

Continuing on the cleaning vein, yeah, since my new sectional was all high maintenance with the whole water-free thing, I did have to use solvent. If any of you should have the misfortune of getting your upholstery soiled by a Muddy Waters, I’d recommend K2r solvent. I mean, Marty did a real number, but after multiple applications, I’m pretty happy that order got restored. Good enough, at least.

In non-product-related news, our Phoenix trip was a blast. I had been there two years ago for a weekend with G and then before that with Bubs and our friend M for the Grand Canyon. This trip was more focused on Phoenix and Scottsdale. I gotta say: I’m not a fan of the politics there or the utter lack of Asians (Asians are less than 3% of the population!), but shit, I am a fan of cheap(er) real estate and shiit, 299 days of sunshine every year! Plus, the store/shop names are so much for creative. Like we ate at a pie shop called The Pie Hole, next door to a pizza joint called Humble Pie. Then, there was a breakfast spot called The Good Egg. And a used car lot called the Jalopy Jungle. And a mega gas station called Super Pumper. See? Creative, right? J and I found some decent grub too, well except the mediocre sushi (duh!). We hit up Bob Marley at the Tempe Improv (fantastic show!!), the Desert Botanical Garden where there’s a really beautiful integration of sculpture art + plants, and I didn’t even realize this until our last day, but Frank Lloyd Wright’s western campus for his architecture school is based in Scottsdale at Taliesin West. We did a tour, and now I’m planning to add FLW buildings to my bucket list. So cool! Turns out, he also designed a house in a Phoenix suburb for his son, and we’re gonna hit that up next time! Overall, another great quickie destination (with direct flights to SJC): truth be told, AZ might just make it onto our “places to live” list. That said, I should mention that the PHX Sky Harbor Airport is a disaster. New and beautiful but fuck, that place is run like an LAX: disorganized with lots of idle staffers doing zippo about long lines. It was an optimizer’s nightmare, and for sure, both of us nearly lost it witnessing the egregious inefficiency on our flight out. SMH. Total buzzkill to end the trip, but I guess you win some and lose some.[FAG id=7449]

Kudos to Kdash

Being the prude that I am, I wasn’t particularly thrilled this week when Kim Kardashian posted a nude selfie (with strategic blacked out areas). In fact, when I saw it appear in my pop culture social media feeds, I kinda rolled my eyes thinking “self-absorbed” and you know, generally “overexposed as usual.” Then the Bette Midler/KK twitter storm happened, and I gotta say: Kdash has a point. Why am I being so critical/judgey about a grown woman’s choice to do what she wants? Admittedly, in my younger years, I was all about being judgmental. Judgement was practically my middle name: why is she being so trashy; why is she celebrating sex rather than intelligence? Why is she objectifying herself? As I got older though, I started to come around. Perhaps I started to get a taste of my own judgey medicine, enduring the judgement of my parents, my relatives, and even my friends, regarding anything from my choices on profession, family, politics, philanthropy, attire and/or spending habits…

It’s one thing to be judged when you’re young and foolish (and obnoxiously self-righteous– been there, done that!), but it’s an entirely different thing to be judged as an adult. Sure, my parents didn’t hide their displeasure even as I entered my mid 30s: the child-free thing, the non-career job hopping thing, the living abroad, the casual attire (jeans!?!)… I suppose some part of me just came to expect their constant criticism, although by now after all the recent shit I’ve had to handle for them, they are finally letting up. I can’t necessarily say the same is true for my friends. Sure, I def went through a phase of you know, “hit me with the truth.” I don’t shy away from radical honesty, so at times, I ASKED for brutal honesty. I actively solicited the feedback. But issues arise when we disagree on our choices, and people start telling me what I ought to be doing or how I should be behaving AFTER I’ve already expressed that I’ve decided for myself. That’s when shit starts to get messy and irritating. And so for Kdash, I see her point. What she posts to her feed is her choice. If I don’t like it, I don’t have to follow it. On a related note: if Bette Midler were indeed friends with Kdash, does that mean Bette has to agree with Kdash on everything? I don’t think so, but apparently, Kdash expects complete agreement (maybe she interprets that as loyalty) from her friends. I think that part is kinda immature.

But let’s take a real example: politics and/or philanthropy. My top causes are the environment, women’s health, and medical/humanitarian services. Those are my core issues. I know the Bay Area is in the middle of a housing crisis. I know there is low supply, high demand, and sky high rent/purchase prices. Cost of living is through the roof. Clearly, this area is NOT affordable. But when I’m asked why I’m not attending town hall meetings or supporting rent control policy and legislation or whatever, it should be enough when I say that it’s not an issue that I want to spend my time/energy/resources on. My choice on what I prioritize shouldn’t be questioned, and I shouldn’t be harassed.

The bottom line is this: my parents are immigrants, so there’s no notion that you HAVE to live in any given place. I have lived in five different states and in two different countries. I know there is abject poverty in the US, but shit, there is a very different prevalence and intensity of poverty that I have seen in other parts of the world. I have never felt that any given city/place is my “rightful” home. In other words, I’m not entitled to live anywhere just because I grew up there or bc my family lives there or whatever. In Shanghai, people go where the jobs are. Housing is also crazy expensive, so people live in zero space with multiple roommates, or they live far away in the suburbs or somewhere else entirely. Sure, the Bay Area is well beyond affordable even for educated, yuppie professionals. If yups get priced out of the area, they should move. Isn’t this a natural progression for cities? They get expensive and people move away (but there are always people who can still afford to live there). I have seen this play out over and over again: Taipei, Shanghai, Tokyo. Life doesn’t guarantee anyone a home anywhere. And then with all the recent news attacking tech workers bc they are earning higher income. Why are tech workers obligated to support any given cause? I mean, sure, in general, civic participation is a good thing, but should it be mandatory? Should it be an expectation? And if tech workers, as high wage earners, have a responsibility to the community, what of the average American who is living in ridiculous extravagance compared to people in developing countries. And what about parents? Do they have an even greater responsibility or obligation to be involved in the process? After all, they have kids who are the future. Why aren’t they at all these meetings? Most parents I know don’t even keep up with the news, and shouldn’t they bc they actually are invested in the future? Who is to say?

You see, I’ve been on both sides of the judgement spectrum. How many times do people consider me selfish or insular for not having kids. It’s as if, I just want to live my own life and not care about other people or the community or the future. Partly true, but when Jennifer Aniston was harassed in yet another interview about being child-free, she countered, “just bc I don’t have kids doesn’t mean I don’t care/nurture people or friends or animals. There are many ways to demonstrate care…” Yeah people. Back the fuck up. Don’t act like you’re God’s greatest gift just bc you are raising a kid. I’ve always argued to my parents that kids aren’t a purely selfless act: at least for the Chinese people I know, kids are an investment in the parents’ own future– it’s their way of ensuring someone is around to take care of them when they’re old. Anyway, long story short, Kdash just really got me thinking about choices and judgement. I guess I’m saying it’s hard to have an opinion and yet refrain from being judgey. Still, I try my best to catch myself and to stay vigilant.

New Buttons, New Outlook

So I finally prevailed in my feud with Crate & Barrel. Despite their initial refusal to repair my popped sofa buttons, I continued to push back, and ultimately, customer service agreed to re-attach my seven buttons on the Petrie sofa. The day after I returned from Palm Springs, the furniture repair guy made a house call. Now, part of my case for requesting repair was that I don’t have kids and my dogs NEVER get on the furniture, so there’s no reason why these buttons should keep popping off. To not appear like a fucking liar, I spent FORever on Monday night and Tuesday morning trying to get Muddy Waters’ stains out of the chaise. But turns out, when the guy arrived, I also wanted to ask his recommendations for stain removal, meaning I had to bring it up. Matt was a big, heavyset guy (I actually thought my new sectional might break with him sitting in the middle of it!)– super nice and cool. First, he admitted that buttoned furniture are THE WORST. If there are buttons anywhere, they will come off. He said some customers have beautiful, super expensive tufted leather couches (think Restoration Hardware) and the buttons come off in no time with very minimal wear. See? He totally corroborated my claim that they just fall off for no reason without any abuse! Second, he himself has a 7-y/o German Shepherd who stays in a very defined area of the house except when there are fireworks. Then, the dog goes totally berserk. So he totally empathized with Marty behaving out of character, triggered by fear. We chatted it up the whole time he was here: it took him 90 minutes to reattach all the buttons. Now, that couch is ready for sale. Yippee! First, Craigslist and the neighborhood list. Then Ebay.

petriea
As for the chaise part of my new sectional, it’s mostly back to normal. It seriously took me hours and endless reapplications of this super potent, stinky drycleaning solvent. I’m sure I blasted all remaining brain cells, but in the end, I’m happy with my progress. Two nights ago in the middle of the night Marty was having his anxiety issues and he tried again to get on the (re-cleaned) couch, so for now, I am keeping a close eye and covering the furniture with all kinds of things, including big bubble bubble wrap. I know, NOT optimal in the long term, but I’m hoping we can get his issues under control in the next few days and return to normalcy after that.

This morning, I was awoken again by a call from Dad. He and mom had just flown into SFO, but for the last travel leg back to Maryland (SFO-IAD), they were on separate flights (long story). In other words, Mom has to fly solo today (which she has never done EVER). Basically, she was freaking out about having to wait without my dad for her flight and what if… they change gates or she misses the announcement or blah, blah, blah. Again, paralysis by paranoia. So Dad wanted me to call her closer to her boarding time to guide her on the phone before getting on her flight. WTF, are you for real??? I mean, as someone who is all about self-sufficiency, I’m thinking Jesus Christ, enough with the goddamn hand holding! But as usual, they sound stressed, they already feel bad about waking me up and asking for help… so fine! I try calling her Taiwan mobile as a test, but it doesn’t go through. I think her phone only works in Taiwan. I guess the universe helped me out there. Mom, you’re just going to have to figure it out on your own.

In related news, J and I went to a play last night called Tokyo Fish Story. Despite my many recent duds (esp with K), Goldstar pulled through last night. Incredibly well-acted and well done. First, I’m not gonna lie: it was kinda bizarre to see Asians in a play. That whole Oscars so white thing is real. Very minimal representation of Asians in theater. But I digress. Anyway, the story was vert poignant, and it really struck a chord with me, hitting on themes of Asian culture, showing how starkly those values contrast even across generations in the same culture. It reminded me of the internal conflict that for so long, I didn’t even recognize or attribute to growing up Chinese-American. But even thinking about how much my parents rely on me now, how much they expect from me, and how I feel obligated to help them even if “helping” feels more like “enabling”– the latter of which conflicts so strongly with my own personal values of self sufficiency and empowerment… The play addresses the concept of respect and how in Asian culture, respect often equates to conceding and acquiescing and never challenging your elders. As J and I walked back to our car, I realized that so much of my youth was spent rejecting and denying my Asian-ness. And now, as I’m on the brink of 40, I finally am realizing how I am a blend of so many things. All these years, I wasted energy trying to categorize myself into neatly defined boxes, be they personality types or some other kind of label (What kind of car would I be? What kind of love language am I? What is my dress style?). Ultimately, I am a complex amalgamation of many things. I’m American-born Chinese and I like that I speak Mandarin. I’m happy that I know how to play the zither, that I enjoy Chinese language films, that I know how to make dumplings and roast duck… Usually yes, I’m an ESTJ but sometimes I’m ISTJ or something beyond both of those types. Some days, I dress like a cowgirl. Other days, I feel more edgy/rocker. Still other days, I prefer heels and a classic sheath dress. For some reason, I was so concerned about consistency in presentation, as if that uniformity somehow equated/attested to my character or integrity. But the truth is, being blended and complex (and unpredictable) is largely what it means to be human. Bubbey once told me he loved how I continued to surprise him. I hope my recent self acceptance pulls up a chair and stays for a while.

Holidays: First Pass

We had a pretty small gathering this year for Thanksgiving. Partly, I was scrambling around very last minute following a restless week prior in Taiwan. My god that visit was trying. Honestly, I don’t know why after all these years, I’m still so surprised by how frustrating my family is. ANYway, I guess I’m mostly recovered now, at least I’m back on the Pacific time zone. Truthfully, I was pretty annoyed by how little empathy I got from Bubbey while I was dealing with my daily family drama. Given he was exhausted back at home hustling with the new job and long commute and Marty’s health situation, but basically every time I talked to him, he just said I needed to learn to control my response to my mother. Never mind that she was annoying as fuck and def stepped over the line with her accusations, but fine. Chock it up to mental illness or whatever. After I returned, she called and thanked me for all the stuff I did. Yes, I’m still irritated that she makes helping her so goddamn frustrating, but in the end, I guess I’m supposed to just forget and forgive.

The good news is that I made my turkey in the NuWave oven, and it came out great in less than four hours. Except that the only size turkey they had left at the store was an 18 pounder, and our three other guests were vegetarian. Meanwhile, Marty’s appetite is fluctuating daily like the wind. He doesn’t like chicken anymore, so we cooked up pork. That lasted for a day or two, and then he puked that up. Now, he seems to be eating the turkey off and on, coupled with getting the sub q fluids every few days. Yes, we’re back on that wagon again. I try to be all easy going and laid back about it: he’s probably 16 y/o now, so I no longer have the wool pulled over my eyes, but it’s still a stressor. We know the drill, and these are the few factors we’re willing to adjust until the end, but I can’t help but feel some kind of impending doom. Yup, clearly, New Attitude November was a burning success!! Haha. One more day, and then it’s December Doom. Shrug.

Overall, Thanksgiving was good: J&J came over with the baby and then S joined later on. I have to say, things are different now that my close friends are parents. You can’t have real, in depth conversations anymore, bc they’re always distracted. I mean, that’s the thing about kids. They really are nonstop- there isn’t a moments’ rest. I don’t know how these people do it. As for S, she appears to be doing well. I guess it’s hard to ever really know. These days, more than ever, I feel like everyone is living behind a veil. We’re just too damn busy to peer into the troubles of others. Maybe I’m projecting. Regardless, work keeps her immensely busy, and Thanksgiving weekend is always one of her busiest times of the year, working in retail and all. She had work calls every four hours for status updates on the web traffic and mobile app. Yeah, maybe my job isn’t so bad. Sigh. (Throwing up my hands).

The next day, K invited us over to her family’s annual day-after dinner party. Man, the Brady Bunch for realz. Serious party hosts: they had two super long tables plus table trays set up for every spot on the living room couch. I mean, there were a LOT of people: maybe 40? J and I had a good time: mostly we chatted with K and D. I brought a box of pineapple cakes from Taiwan, which her father promptly set out on the dessert table. Funny thing: who were the first people to eat up the cakes? None other than K’s brother-in-law and his fam– who are Chinese (maybe Taiwanese)!?! I mean, precisely the people who are already familiar with pineapple cakes. SMH. In the end, K’s parents didn’t even get to try them! My people, man. It still just blows my mind that K has dinner with her fam every single week. I have to say, it is so weird for me to observe joyous and interactive families. My family is so much the opposite. Sigh. It is what it is.

Chauffeur

Another busy day for us here in humidity central. Today I drove my mother and her parents to a veterans center in Tainan. One of my cousins works there, and she invited us to a special anniversary celebration event on site, featuring a songstress who was super famous back in my parents’ days. When we arrived, my relatives were super impressed that I got my family there. SMH. Here’s the thing, people: driving is a very ordinary skill in the US. Sure, I have some barriers here in Taiwan, like illiteracy and unfamiliarity with the place, but seriously, it’s not that big a deal. The signage has romanized Chinese plus all the usual hwy/route numbers. And the night before I had asked Hong to show me the route on Google Maps. Btw, I have to say, despite my last feud with T-Mobile, the global data plan has saved my ass many times. The Google Maps with the moving blue dot is sooo money, bc when I miss an exit or turn, I can pretty much see the mistake immediately. If only I could mute my mother in the damn backseat. Holy fuck, there are few things more annoying than having someone who is directionally challenged and who does NOT drive nagging you the whole drive up. I took a lot of deep breaths today, that’s for fucking sure.

So the concert was pretty low budget with wonky mics and shitty speakers. I felt like I was in a crappy ktv lounge or chintzy school auditorium. But I think my relatives enjoyed themselves. Those singers, man: fuck, they were old and yet still prancing around in thigh-high boots and mini-skirts. So very Madonna of them. That said, I gotta say, I admired their energy and sass and charisma! How the hell are they similar to my parents in age? Mind blown.

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For lunch we hit up a really tasty homestyle restaurant nearby. Delish. A lot of veggie dishes, which was a welcome respite from all the meat-laden meals we’d been eating. Afterwards, I was back behind the wheel headed to my paternal grandfather’s house down south. In Wulong, I spent two hours in the salon chair getting my hair trimmed and dyed. Same hairdresser as last time. Unfortunately, she didn’t have navy blue in stock for chunks so she did red highlights instead. It came out super subtle since I had gone all goth at home last month, but she says it will brighten over time. Fine, whatever. I’m just happy to sit in the chair with some fucking peace and quiet.

Clearing the Clutter

I’m finally trying to tackle all the clutter– both mental clutter and physical clutter. Thanks to the recent renewed vigor for my Bubbey bucks program, unused items are finally making their way off our tiny Houseboat. That said, the process has still been slow as fuck, bc well, the environmental engineering side of me just gets too damn involved. I know, it’s my own fucking fault that decluttering is ridiculously cumbersome and tedious.

For example, a while back, our first pressure cooker (7 yrs old) busted with the plastic regulator cracking to bits. Rather than just chucking that thing into the dumpster, I tried desperately to find a replacement part so that I could salvage the appliance. In the end, after a couple hours of online research plus a failed purchase on Amazon, I realized that my only real option was to buy a new one. Fine, the new pressure cooker arrived and immediately, I put it to work cooking Marty’s food. Still though, I kept the old unit thinking maybe I just needed to spend some more time or talk to the right people (my engineering friends who order machine parts all the time) to make the old one functional again. Next thing I know, weeks fly by with the damn thing sitting in the garage. Eventually, I talked to my EE/manufacturing bud, and he said the same thing happened to his family. The only solution was to trash the old one and buy a new one. Ugh, fine. So then, I decided I would recycle the old one. It sat around the garage some more as I gathered my e-waste. By the time I organized a batch for Green Citizen, I learned that the shop now charges by the pound to recycle e-waste! WTF?!? $7 to recycle that ONE heavy-ass thing! Ugh. Yes, I could have just set it out with my household garbage, but then it wouldn’t get recycled. Fine, take the damn $7. Not a huge sum, but certainly, if I have a lot of electronics, it adds up. I’ve been brainstorming alternatives ever since.

Thankfully, I discovered that my school has a pretty robust recycling program for e-waste and other off-beat items like plastic wrap, candy wrappers, makeup containers, and old shoes. Good to know. Of course, having this stream doesn’t reduce the collecting of junk, but since I go to work M-F, I guess I don’t have to let the stuff sit on the Housebat: I can just take what I have everyday! Don’t ask me what all is in my car’s trunk right now.

This past weekend, we resumed our garage makeover. Last summer, J and I had cleaned out the garage somewhat and J demoed the paneling and shelving inside. This past weekend, we got an electrician/contractor to re-wire the place and next we’re planning to have someone insulate and drywall. At the start of all this, we had expected the process to take just a few weeks. Sadly, shit happened: J got tore his calf muscle, he traveled home with S, and then he started a new job in SF. And to come clean, bc of my issues, I was really of very little help. I helped go through the garage junk a bit (via recycling and freecycle), but I didn’t do squat with the demo or electrical permitting process. The good news is, the two electricians worked all day yesterday, and the garage is totally emptied out (who knew a single-car garage had so much damn space!). With the initial wiring done, this week we’re hoping to have the city inspector come and then afterwards, on to insulating and dry walling! J had started researching some storage cabinets, counters, and lighting options, but this weekend we decided to call in an organizer. Yup, we’re at the point now where it’s more important to get shit done than to do everything completely dirt cheap and DIY. And for once, I’m working my network to find recommended peeps. Although the services are more expensive than DIY, they’re still way cheaper than the regular market. Electrician, drywaller, and organizer. We’ll see how it all pans out. We just don’t have the energy or time anymore to drag through everything. I suspect this change in mindset comes with nearing 40. I need to simplify my life, for reals.

What else. Last weekend, I worked a shit ton of hours for the university’s alumni reunion weekend. Ugh, the amount of cheerleading and chipper content that is required!! I kept reminding myself, “I am not my audience,” but still, this school spirit bullshit is insufferable. And of course, the added irony is that I was so glad to leave the event planning/organizing duties of my last job with its annual volunteer events and staff events and public celebrations. Fuck man. As life would have it, now every big event at the uni spans multiple days and is several times larger. Wtf did I do?? In the very least, this year’s reunion event is behind me now. Next up? The new AVP is sending me to NYC later this month for a 2-day conference on content marketing. My boss was so excited for me: she acted like I was getting sent on a vacation or something. Uh, last I checked, every time I’m off attending a conference (be it for work or for myself), I get inundated with email assignments and requests throughout the day. In other words, going to a conference doesn’t replace the tasks at the office; instead, attending just gets stacked on top of all usual day-to-day crap, so sorry, I’m not floating on air about it. Whatever though. The conference itself is rather short, and afterwards, I’m riding Megabus up to Boston to spend a few days with my college bud J. I am in need of a serious vacation. My bud K raised her eyebrows on learning that I was staying with J at his apartment (uh, do you seriously expect me to pay out of pocket for a Boston hotel?), but like I’ve explained: our friendship is purely platonic, and it’s all good. Frankly, this behavior is nothing new. He stayed in my hotel room when I was attending a conference in Miami. Been there, done that. Gotta trust, lady.

Dreamforce

So I used 4 days of vacation earlier this month to attend Dreamforce. I was glad that I soaked up that cultural phenomenon: the largest tech conference in the world with over 150,000 people descending onto San Francisco. The conference itself was a shit ton of hustle. I studied the agenda and breakout sessions closely and pretty much prepared for full days from 8-6. Of course, to get to the sessions on time, that required getting up super early at the ass crack of dawn. The very first day, I think I was up at like 5:30 to catch a 6-something train. I walked briskly, and then the session was booked. Because the conference is so fucking huge, there are like a gabillion venues for the sessions: all the Moscones plus Century Theaters plus the Hilton, the Marriott, Yerba Buena, the Metreon. Seriously, swarms of people everywhere. Thank goodness for my years in China: they really trained me well for insane crowds. So anyway, one of the days, I had sessions in one hotel and then another session in a second hotel. I busted my ass walking to the second spot, only to be turned away yet again due to capacity. After that, I decided it was necessary to arrive 20-30 min early to each session AND to just stay at a single venue.

Overall, I’m glad I went. It was pretty cool to see case after case of nonprofits and highered institutions were really empowered to do more with an organized CRM system. I mean, to have data centralized in one place is a magical and powerful thing. In my year off when I had done like 50 informational interviews, I’d met/called several Salesforce consultants. I saw their booths at the conference. The first few days, I felt a lot of reluctance approaching them. I don’t think it was necessarily shame that was holding me back: I guess I just wanted to NOT talk about my current job that I hate at a place that doesn’t even use Salesforce. I mean, I think I want to do what they do, and yet 1-2 years after talking with them, I am nowhere near them. Ok, maybe there was some shame or disappointment with my personal progress. In typical fashion, every night after I got home, I chided myself for dragging ass. How would I ever get another job if I let all my networking skills die? How did I expect to work in consulting if I had no initiative in the critical moments? Yeah, I’m kind of emotionally abusive to myself. But fuck man, it did the trick bc by the third day, I made it happen. And then another interesting thing happened. In this sea of 150k attendees, I bumped into a classmate from my Duke Nonprofit Management class in June 2014. I don’t really know if he remembered my name, but I actually chatted with him for 45 min or so. Frankly, in our class, I didn’t particularly like him bc he was kinda the class clown (and you know I’m all serious with my academics), but he was fine this time around. Interestingly, he claims that he recognized me bc of my red jacket. Haha. That $45 F21 jacket has brought me more attention than any other item I own. File that tidbit away.

Dreamforce also had a concert on Thursday night. I was super stoked bc the Killers were on the list (along with Gary Clark, Jr. and the Foo Fighters). When I discovered that my conference pass included access to the concert, I was all over that shit. J expressed all this concern about Thursday being a really long day and how was I gonna be up at 6a and then last through for the concert at like 8:30-11. Blah, blah. Little does Bubbey know, I will pull out all the stops for free shit. If I paid for something (even if I’m just out $5) or if an amenity is included, I HAVE to use it. Long story short, we worked out a plan. After the conference wrapped around 5:30, I rode Muni to the west side of the city to have dinner with Bubbey and his sister S. I then rode the Muni back east to get to Pier 70, the site of the concert. I was kinda bummed about going to the big event solo, but c’est la vie, right? I can’t be stopped. Then, the most unexpected thing happened. Google directions was wrong, and the Muni stopped earlier than expected. A bunch of other conference attendees all got off. I kinda just merged myself into a group of Brits. We ended up catching a separate Muni and then getting to the site. It was probably a group of 6, and they all knew each other. I had no expectation that they would keep me in their fold, but I was pleasantly surprised. Even as we weaved through the crowds, one of the guys just really kept his eye on me. And then after we got in, they grabbed me a beer, and it was kinda nice to suddenly belong to a group. Eventually, we lost some members, but yeah the remaining three of us hung out together for the duration of the concert. Sadly, I got there too late to gain access to the stage where the Killers were performing. Also, I was disappointed to see on the Jumbotron that hottie Brandon Flowers let his hair grow way too long. Damn that dude’s look changes with the wind. He has a lot of different styles. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the music and then by the time the Foo Fighters came on, we were strategically positioned with the musicians in full view. In fact, later in the night, one of the maintenance crew was adding a new porta-potty to the bathroom area just left of the stage. My new friends had the smart idea to follow closely behind the dude as he split through the crowd, creating a path for us closer to the stage. Genius. The Brits LOVE the FF. They’re a bit cacophonous and screechy and fuck man, David Grohle is a goddamn maniac, but the show was entertaining and well, it was kinda cool to just be swept up in the concert energy. Around 11, I said my goodbyes and then Bubbey picked me up to ride home. I felt really proud of myself that night. I didn’t let my social anxiety prevent me from making new friends.

Of course the next day is where my naive stance on relationships revealed itself. One of the guys, Stephen, had explained the night before that they had a booth and their chotkes arrived late due to customs, blah, blah. You know me with my follow up. So I went to their booth the last day of the conference, and I guess I thought maybe we would exchange info and connect via LinkedIn. I chatted with Stephen and he was very nice, but he kinda didn’t want to swap info, so I just left it at that. Like yeah, last night was fun. Safe travels back, and maybe you’ll be back next year. To be honest, it felt a little weird like maybe I was coming on too strong or something. I wasn’t flirting or hitting on him or anything. I guess I was just so thrilled the night before to have shared this big impersonal experience with some new people, maybe I felt somewhat indebted or connected. But it just made me realize that for consultants/sales/business people, interactions really are a dime a dozen. There is nothing really special about spending an evening hanging out with a stranger. I wasn’t hurt by this realization or anything. Maybe he read something romantic or clingy about my behavior the next day? The thing is, it didn’t really matter what he thought. I was pleasantly surprised to have met them, and I wanted to follow up the next day. I kinda got shut down or he distanced, but you know what? That’s ok. I treat relationships differently than other people. I’m not going to change what I do for fear of being read as desperate or whatever. I know what my intentions were and that’s all that matters. I was proud of myself for being unafraid and unconcerned. That’s a palpable shift from my past when I worried too much about how strangers, esp “cool” people perceived me.

Work wise, my boss returned from personal vacation the days I was at the conference. Due to the new interim AVP and all her fresh demands, my boss had to interrupt me A LOT at the conference for data and reports and files. I was pretty annoyed, but when I thought about my boss’ stresses and fears, I tried to just get what she needed quickly. There was a session at Dreamforce that talked about kindness and compassion. Everyone is going through their own fucked up shit. Try to be kind. For some reason, that stuck with me.

So the conclusion from Dreamforce? I want to gain some experience working with Salesforce. I feel like this idea of using tech to help an org operate more efficiently suits me better than social media management. It just feels like a stronger fit. My friend L, who now lives in DC, says he has a good friend who works for SF. We’ll see how that connection pans out. I’m happy that L and I are still in touch now and then. He’s going to be in Santa Clara in October for a couple days, so hopefully, we’ll get to catch up in person. It’s probably been a year since we last met up.[FAG id=7445]

Losing my Shit, Losing my Mind

I’ve been losing a lot of things lately. I mean, sure, since we moved into this house five years ago, I’ve never been able to find my Skagen watch or my tanzanite/white gold 5-year anniversary ring. Yeah, those items are pretty much a lost cause. More recently however, I also “lost” my small fringe American Eagle purse. A few days after Mo died, we were at the neighborhood bar gathering with his friends after spending the day at the mosque and then the burial site. We were at the bar for probably four hours. I didn’t have that much to drink, but the day was extremely emotional and draining. After seeing a bunch of people just emotional and really drunk, I was eager to leave. The next day, as I got ready for work, I could not find my purse. Argh!! I got so frustrated with myself. WTF? Who forgets things and leaves shit hanging around. And then worse, I had to bother J and his sisters with searching for it at the bar and asking around the next day.

To be honest, I have been feeling rather out of sorts lately– just not quite myself. The good news is that a few days later, after I had cancelled the credit cards (Thankfully, I had my ID and other major cards in a different bag), I was at home in my office, where the sofa had been pulled out for his sisters. I tossed open the comforter to fold it, and out popped my purse!! Then I remembered: I had crashed in that room and left my shit there. Thank goodness, bc even though I wasn’t really missing the contents or the cheap-ass purse, I did NOT want to think Mo’s friends or acquaintances walked off with someone else’s crap.

All of this has triggered a new fear for me though: I worry that my mind is starting to go. And I feel like my mother lost a lot of her mental sharpness early too. I don’t know: things are just starting to slide. I don’t feel as witty or as quick/responsive as I used to be. I can’t seem to focus or digest auditory information like I used to. I don’t know. There’s a palpable shift. I know I’m getting older, but really??? Is this happening now? Like a paranoid ass, I started doing Lumosity again. That game annoys the crap out of me, bc I was scoring such goddamn low numbers. But I’m hoping the stats will get better with practice. I don’t know, man. Life is beating me down! Wth happened to resiliency? Ugh.

And more importantly, what happened to Benjamin Button? That zest is gone. I find myself wondering who I am and what I can now offer. Is this what people call the existential crisis? Some days, these thoughts overtake me. Not only from the professional standpoint with doubts about my skills and “presence” but shit. I used to be more confident. Now I wonder how I’ll keep from becoming obsolete in this fast-moving world. Being an outcast or misfit didn’t bother me before when I was in the prime of my 30s. Now somehow I am struggling with where my puzzle piece fits. It’s a strange about-face.

A friend from high school (we’re friends on FB) recently put down her 16 y/o dog. We hadn’t really been in touch since the 1990s, but I emailed her bc Thunder’s death reminded me of Remy. Anyway, my friend replied, and she made a comment that, for those of us who don’t have kids, the loss is maybe even more compounded. And it got me thinking about how, when you don’t have kids, society has all these different standards for you. Like a coworker recently said to me, “Oh you don’t have kids, so you can stay late at the office.” Other people (usually people with kids) sometimes make comments that suggest losing a dog is way less sad than losing a kid. Um, sure it’s different, but in some cases, my dog might even be OLDER than the child. Regardless, is grief measured by blood, by time together, by what? Do we even need to measure it?

The other day, my father was telling me about his friend who wants dad to buy his parcel of agricultural land. My father commented that he doesn’t have any grandchildren so what’s the point of acquiring more land. Again, I say I value radical honesty, and yet, his words irked me. And days after that call, the irritation is still rubbing me. Later, I told him how there was a lot of reshuffling going on at work. He was concerned about the implications on my job stability, so I explained that I wasn’t really worried: I’m a hard worker. Then, he launched into a whole thing about 1) maybe the reshuffling will create opportunities for you to move up (bc whatever I’m doing is never enough) 2) working hard is great but you need to work smart. Is it just me, or is every fricking comment out of his mouth damn preachy?! Ugh. It’s probably just me. After all, I have a very long history of being highly reactive to the parentals. Blame it on my biggest character flaw once again.

In other news, I’m starting four days of vacation tomorrow. I decided to take advantage of my higher ed status to score discounted registration to Dreamforce this week. Unfortunately, I’ll have to suffer through 90 minutes of public transportation each way to/from SF, but I guess it’s ONLY four days. Hopefully, seeing some big Whigs in the philanthropy space will help me break free of my current case of bad attitude. After the conference tomorrow, I’m going to join J and S for dinner. It’s been several days since I saw S. It’ll be good to check in with her again.