Category Archives: Travel

Capacity

In my last post, I detailed a plan for getting myself out of my current funk. I intend to follow the plan, but that doesn’t necessarily stop the overthinking. Haha. On the flight to the East Coast this morning, I was thinking about my own capacity. Why have I felt so on edge these last few months? Am I feeling burdened or troubled by more factors than usual, or has my tolerance and patience decreased without me knowing?

The thing is, I don’t feel optimistic about the future. Increasingly, I find myself dreading all the inevitable things coming down the pipeline. Am I being morbid? Maybe. My grandparents are aging, my in-laws, my parents, Martin… I worry about how I will handle all of this. If I am already flipping out about the combination of work, Martin (with non-life threatening issues), my friend N, my funk, J’s funk, the goddamn NuWave oven going kaput (more on that later), holiday logistics, etc… how the hell am I going to deal with stuff when the REAL shit hits the fan? Will I discover new capacity, or will I completely lose my mind? OMFG. I really am morphing into my mother. And yes, that is a horrible, awful thing. Why? Because she allows fear to paralyze her. Fear stops her from finding solutions. Fear stops her from discovering, from learning, from living. Maybe statements like this aren’t cool to say out loud. I’m sure moms out there are taking offense. I acknowledge that parenting is a shit ton of work, and sure, let’s applaud these women for their effort. But as one of my friends once said, trying to be a good parent doesn’t necessarily equate to being a good parent. By the same token, trying to be a good daughter doesn’t equate to being a good daughter. I suppose the simplest way to say this is that my relationship with my mother is complicated.

Speaking of co-dependence, on the drive to the airport this morning, my car started shaking at high-speed. In the last week, my Honda Civic hybrid definitely started driving jerkier than usual, but I didn’t think much of it. After all, I take it in pretty regularly for the oil changes, maintenance, etc. It’s kinda just always been a shitty ride. Two days ago though, the shaking grew more intense, and I made a mental note to tell J. Well, in the holiday hustle, I completely forgot.

So this morning, before the crack of dawn, we loaded my car and headed for the airport. As soon as we got on the highway, the car started vibrating. J was like, “This is not right. Why didn’t you say anything? We should have taken my car.” Well, we had already left the house a ways, so let’s just get to the airport. The shaking intensified, but then subsided once we got to Burlingame. I made a comment that the shaking went away, and literally, seconds later, there was a really loud cycling noise and what sounded like parts flying off the car. Less than a mile from our airport parking garage, we pulled over with a blown out flat tire. So yup, there we were on the side of the highway at 6a on Christmas Eve. I’d never gotten a tire blowout before, so I was immediately thinking, shit, we’re going to miss the flight, because I dunno how to change a tire and I gotta call roadside for that shit. In my panic, I called T. J was like, “We’ll change it. They can’t do anything for us.” Sorry T, premature call! So J starts pulling all our luggage out of the trunk and moving it to the back seat. Like a total dumbass, I’m standing next to the car on the side with cars speeding by at 80 mph. I was such a useless piece. After a bit of fumbling around, I busted out the manual to figure out how to remove the damn hubcab and use the jack. Turns out, we didn’t even use the jack right until the very end, but whatever, we got the donut on. And holy shit, we made our flight with time to spare. Thank goodness for Bubbey!

Afterwards though, I was a little freaked out, you know? Like what would have happened if I were alone? I could have lost control of the car and gotten into an accident. Or I would have been stranded roadside, waiting for AAA to come help. Fucking no survival skills!!! WTF?? I mean, it is what it is. I guess now I know how to change a tire. Still, I was all disturbed feeling like a lame girl. Ugh. Ok fine, get over it.

Meanwhile, J is already insisting that this is a sign I need a new car. It’s true. From the beginning, this first hybrid by Honda has been a disappointment. Still, I was committed, plus I just didn’t want to go car shopping. You see, I had researched a car for my dad and a car for my grandfather… I was just over it. Clearly, procrastination is real. But now, it’s time to confront the issues that must be addressed. Maybe after we get back to town. Get ‘er done. The holiday adventure begins right?

Back in Action Post-Asia

The last several weeks, I had every intention of resuming a regular schedule of blogging. For some reason though, my days have felt rather endless, and my mind is too muddled to come up with any content that is cohesive or articulate.

We returned from Asia, and this first week back went ok. I’m back to scouring for content 24/7, and I’ve also started taking a closer look at metrics. My boss and I hosted a web-based social media conference where we invited social media counterparts from all over campus. The conference speakers were really good… they showcased a lot of innovative campaigns and such that other universities have implemented with great success. I learned a lot from the case studies, and I also enjoyed meeting some of my peers elsewhere on campus. That said, I’m feeling the pressure to come up with new ideas and creative ways of harnessing social media. Honestly, I dunno what tricks I’m going to pull out of my hat, but hopefully, ideas will come to me somehow.

I recently purchased a Razor scooter– an adult-sized one. I figured that it would be a great way to get me on campus more often. Interestingly, the senior VP came by my office the other day, and he said, “You know, I have a lot of kids (he has SIX actually), so I’m usually up on all the trends. I have to say though, I haven’t seen Razor scooters in a really long time.” Ugh, is that your way of telling me I’m out of date, because hell, I will be the first one to tell you I am always ten years behind on fads. Haha! Whatever though. I took that scooter out for a spin, and the thing runs fast. It’s definitely not as stable as I had expected, plus the thing is a little heavier than I had hoped, but dang, it sure is fun to ride! I was zipping around at the park, and Marty had to run just to keep up with me. I think this is going to work out well.

Speaking of getting on campus, The Blind Cafe was at the university yesterday. Basically, it’s an organization that puts on dinner in the dark activities with the goal of bridging the gap between the sighted and the blind. I was so curious about the concept, that I got tickets immediately. When I told John, he was not interested. Dinner in the dark with strangers? Nope, an introvert’s nightmare. So, I ended up going alone, but shit, while waiting for the event to start, I struck up a conversation with a really cool lady who is the spouse of a university staffer. Super fun lady, and as it turns out, we have a ton in common. She’s a deal hunter AND she and her hubby are also huge fans of the San Jose Improv. She also turned me on to an open mic spot with killer Cajun food. I hope we’ll meet up to catch a show together. What a random but pleasant encounter! Then, the dinner itself was such a mind-blowing experience. Blind wait staff led us, single file, hands on the shoulder of the person in front of you, into a pitch black room. We were lead to our seats at a table, and then we were off to feel and converse our way through the six tapas dishes and dessert.

Holy shit. First, I don’t even sleep in that level of darkness. The only other place even close to being that pitch black was the Grand Canyon but even then, there was some light from the stars. What a crazy thing to imagine and experience this glimpse of what it’s like to be blind and living in darkness. The food was just gourmet tapas, but it was interesting eating with our hands and tasting without seeing. Later, there was a Q&A session where diners asked the blind waitstaff questions. There are programs to train blind people about independent living but shit, that sounds so incredibly hard! For example, how do blind people remember people they’ve met without having the visual data? Lots of questions that I had never pondered before. After Q&A, there was live music. Yes, one of the key organizers also plays in a band!! The Blind Cafe was a really great experience. Admittedly, after being in complete darkness for 2.5 hours, I was so thankful to get back into the light…

Bright Lights, Big City

J and I picked Tokyo to follow our Taiwan trip, because we wanted a place to decompress post family time. Turns out, Tokyo isn’t quite the right city for that, because navigation/travel is so much harder there due to the language barrier. Even the address system is really confusing: buildings aren’t numbered in sequence along the street nor are they numbered odd on one side and even on the other!! On top of that, my T-Mobile data package there sucked, and wifi wasn’t readily available either… We were there over ten years ago, and somehow we forgot about this difficulty. Haha. Regardless, we tried our best to stay positive ;). Next time though, we’ll have to pick a city that’s a little more plug and play.

So, what did we do? Mostly, we walked around and browsed. We hit a bunch of stationery stores, stuffed our faces (even though we had already done a food safari in Taiwan), and sang karaoke. Then, the three days were over in a flash! When we returned home, my neighbor asked if we’d bought any pearls or silks or this or that… I guess I’ve been on a major shopping hiatus. I mean, I got a few small items, and Bubbey got notebooks and pens, and we bought whiskey and macaroons for his sister and her beau (for dogsitting). Other than that, we left Tokyo (and Taiwan) mostly empty handed. I think more than anything, I just don’t want to deal with clutter and having to make space for more stuff (especially after seeing my cousin’s spotless place!!).

We had a great time though just spending QT together. Tokyo is so bustling and alive. I mean, NYC is probably the only other city I’ve been to that compares: so many people up and out really late– young, old, the combo of the two (including sugar daddies with their sugar babies). But it’s not all big city, bright lights glam. Cities also have that raw underbelly. I saw all the “salarymen” decked out in their nice suits, looking all slim and trim. On the flip side, Japan has a serious problem with people dying from overworking. Yes, there’s even a term for it: karoshi, which is basically death from exhaustion. And there are other disturbing issues with sexism, xenophobia, a population that’s over half seniors, not to mention an economy that has struggled for two plus decades… While there, I got all reflective and shit about the meaning of life and all the hustling. I know, see why positivity is so damn hard for me? I overthink shit, and my mind takes me down these depressing paths…

That said, Tokyo was a good reminder for me to cherish my time with people I love and to not take my work so damn seriously all the time. I need to lighten up. Hence, I just purchased a Razor scooter online. Haha, I plan to ride it around on campus to be at one with the youngsters. Actually, I kinda have a thing for wheeled contraptions. I do think it’ll encourage me to go on campus more. We’ll see how it all pans out. Ha![FAG id=7427]

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

It’s been awhile since J and I traveled to Asia together: I visited the fam two years ago, and J was last there four years ago. Since 2009, I’d actually made a concerted effort to go back every year, but my last trip in 2012 was so damn annoying that I decided to take a break. This time around, I was feeling my usual dread about my upcoming “vacation.” I guess old habits die hard. Then, on the day of our departure, J and I had a talk about living with more positivity. So, we decided to make this trip an experiment and to be mindful about our negativity.

Eleven days later, I’m happy to report that having a better attitude changes many things. Overall, the trip went well. No arguments, no drama. Still exhausting as hell shuttling around from place to place, but the trip was pretty much as optimized as it could be. Taiwan has a great public transportation system, with the high-speed rail running almost the entire length of the island and metro systems in its two largest cities of Taipei and Kaohsiung. Transportation by car though, is a challenge. People drive super slow: the speed limit is only about 60 mph (compared to how J and I zip around way ABOVE the speed limit in Cali). And traffic is pretty bad, so even if distances aren’t far, shit takes forever. I won’t bore you with the play-by-plays, but we pretty much stayed at a different place every night, and each day, we spent at 3-5 hrs. in transit. The good news? My family is doing well. We had a good time hanging out with my parents, seeing their new house in Kaohsiung, visiting my relatives, and stuffing our faces along the way. I got my hair highlighted at a little shop in dad’s hometown. The hair appointments in Asia ALWAYS take double the quoted time. Haha. I was getting antsy sitting in that chair, burning up under the plastic sheet. The color and cut came out fine. Nothing superb, but good enough. Either way, it’s nice to wash my hair and not have the dye still come out like when I color at home. At the end of the week, my fav cousin drove us around to little food stalls and area landmarks. Three of my cousins also recently moved to new homes, so we did a lot of property visits, which I always enjoy. It’s like being on an HGTV show or something. Haha. 🙂 Nah honestly, it was great to see the standards of living going up from generation to generation. One of my cousins has two little boys, both under 3 and her place is so crazy ass immaculate. By the looks of it, I couldn’t even tell that people lived there! No knick knacks whatsoever on the surfaces and lots of cabinets for storage! Even all the kids toys were stuffed away in the kitchen cabinets. I want to get more organized.

My parents are doing ok. I am, however, noticing some things are starting to slip with my dad. He got our arrival date mixed up, so when we arrived in TPE airport, he thought we were due to arrive the next day. There were a few other things too, but I could also see that he’s just juggling too much right now. That shit happens to me also. When I’m managing too much, shit falls through the cracks (e.g. Verizon charges). And J and I were so exhausted shuttling all across the island… I can’t imagine how tiring it is for people in their late 60s and early 70s. My dad seriously needs to slow the fuck down.

Other news: We didn’t really interact much with my brother. Just a few minutes of conversation here and there. He didn’t travel with us at all when we went south, and on our last day in Taipei, he did his own thing. Just as well. This was the first time EVER that my parents said absolutely NOTHING about me giving him advice or trying to reconnect with him. Thank goodness. I think they are finally starting to see: there’s no point in arguing over someone who just doesn’t want to change.

A part of me does feel sad though about the deterioration of that relationship. Yet at the same time, I feel it’s something that just cannot be repaired. And for all parties involved, it’s just most civil to let things be. He tries to converse and engage, but the best I can do is maintain a civility and distance. There’s just too much pain and history. I don’t think he is malicious, but how does a selfish person become more giving and generous? It just doesn’t happen. My mother goes with him to some of the religious activities. I think she gets something out of it, so good for her. Her relationship with my dad is well, like most old married couples, I suppose. They are both just so damn naggy with one another. J joked that this trip really helped him understand some of my proclivities: the constant urgency and hustle from my father; the backseat driving style from my mother; the obsession with discounts (my dad is so thrilled to get half-off train/bus tickets for being a senior)… I try to learn what I can from watching my parents’ relationship. They love each other, but shit, they spend way too much time together. And, as I’ve observed before, I really hate how my mother is unable to do anything on her own… she’s so clearly codependent and over-reliant on my dad. Ah well, a different time, a different place, and different people. But when I see them, I definitely make mental notes and start immediate course corrections to nip that shit in the bud. To my credit, J says my nagging has definitely cut down A LOT. I give props to my therapist from two years ago for that. She really made me see how some of my standards were just arbitrary and yet super damaging to our relationship. Live and learn, baby!

On that happy note, here are pics from Taiwan.[FAG id=7424]

No Complaints

A couple of my friends recently became mothers.They’re a few months in now, and I have to say, despite all the horror stories I heard from other acquaintances about parenthood, my two buds Y and G haven’t complained yet. Rather, they are so thrilled and over-the-moon for their little bundles. Not that the others weren’t happy about becoming parents, but I just distinctly remember my coworkers and acquaintances bemoaning the sleep deprivation and round-the-clock care their little babies demanded. Maybe, as a child-free person, I only heard what I wanted to hear? I dunno, but based on those stories, I was pretty certain both buds were in for a very rude awakening.

When my friend said she was planning a weekend escape to Vegas with the hubby and new baby, I was skeptical. All the logistics: packing, plane travel, dining out, breastfeeding… really?? Thankfully, a week later, I was pleasantly surprised that baby’s first trip was a huge success. Instead of schlepping all the baby equipment, they just rented swings and shit. They ate out, they hung out by the pool, and the baby was fine. No out-of-control incidents. Wow. The disparity between my expectation and her reality got me thinking: are some people just major complainers (myself possibly included)? Do they just drum up drama everywhere they go? Eek.

I dunno, but curiously, both buds are physicians. Is there maybe something about the medical schooling, training, and the profession that focuses them away from the bullshit negativity and strictly towards solving problems and getting shit done? I see a similar trait in my father. Well, more so now than before I guess.

Is the difference attributed to personality and attitude? A month ago, on my trip to Seattle, I was probably talking about my job hunt, and G said something to the effect of, “Yes, but you like a certain bit of stress.” She ended up rephrasing, but I caught her drift. In some bizarre way, it’s almost as if I am driven to some extent by stress. I think her rephrasing was more just that I always have a baseline level of urgency.

That weekend, G was waking up every two hours to feed, her husband was already off of paternity leave and back to working full time… I was there right in the middle of a very busy and transitional time, and yet being in their home, I noticed very little visible frustration. Things still got done, the dog still got walked, and everything was calm. In my mind, I contrasted that to my home where John and I are frequently irritated with work, with people, with vendors, whatever. We sigh a lot and are visibly cranky and tired. Such a stark difference.

I’m nearly always stressed about something. Lately, it’s been about Marty, my dad’s condo, my new job, J’s job/stress, whatever. I often think back to when I was growing up: my dad worked insane hours for his job, which was already an intense profession, and then he still had a gabillion other things going on, plus he was helping his family back home with their debts and money issues. He never lost his shit with his parents or his siblings. He never dreaded or complained about helping them. I’m ALWAYS complaining about the tasks I do for my parents. Shouldn’t I just be happy to help? I’m eager and willing to help my friends, so why am I so begrudging with my parents?

The thing is, everyone has her issues and problems. That said, maybe life really is about how we handle these challenges. I need to divert my negative energy from worry and anger and frustration to more positive things like solving problems, making progress, and getting shit done. J warns that personality probably plays a big role in influencing this baseline urgency, so while I should definitely try to be more positive, I should also understand that I’ll never be as even-keeled as G. So true. Gotta manage those expectations, right?

For this trip, both J and I are actively trying to be more positive and constructive. I know, we’re still on the flight over, so it’s very early, practically premature. Interestingly though, the universe has already rewarded us with a pretty painless commute from Caltrain to Bart to AirTrain to SFO. Also, after we arrived at the terminal, twice we got moved to the front of a new line– cutting down on our wait time with ticketing and security. And then, we didn’t even have to go through the x-ray scanner. Looks like positivity has it privileges! The universe is answering us. Haha.

All In

OMFG, I haven’t written in AGES!! My last post was written at the end of week 1 of my new job, and now I’m on week 4!! Holy shit, coming up on a month there already!

Given my long silence, you’ve probably deduced that I am knee-deep in work. Which reminds me: my friend T, who served as a reference during the interview process, told my current boss, “V really spoiled us with her responsiveness and productivity.It was a rarity for her NOT to reply to our emails after hours or even while she was home sick. If she didn’t reply, we knew she was REALLY sick.” It’s kinda true. H1N1 is no fucking joke. I was out for a long while on that one. In general though, it’s not like I’m trying to be a superstar worker. Ok, kind of. But really, I just don’t like letting things sit. I like to be all caught up, you know? So yeah, for my peeps who have endured this multi-week silence on my blog, it pretty much means I’ve been in full-on job mode.

Here’s the thing though. At my previous jobs, I never really felt uncertain. This job? The boss and my coworkers are great, but I feel an unrelenting pressure. It’s possible some of the pressure is attributed to my long sabbatical, during which my confidence took repeated hits. Plus, I was out of the office environment for a long time.I don’t really know. John thinks it’s because I have daily deadlines with the postings.

Regardless, I felt overwhelmed being at an institution so much larger than my previous workplaces. And then, coming in without any history or affiliation with the university, there are so many moving parts (i.e., schools, centers, programs, and departments). But like I said, my boss is really good. In fact, she immediately came through signing me up for a ton of professional development opportunities, which we had discussed during my interview process. Interestingly, in between signing the offer and starting the job, I actually kicked myself for not getting any of the training budget details in writing. Thankfully, all of that is a moot issue. She even has me scheduled for a conference in Miami come April. Woot, woot!! My other coworkers are also really patient about my newbie status. So the pressure is mostly coming from me. You know, I’m impatient as hell. And I just keep shooting myself with that “second arrow,” worrying myself silly about ramping up and performing.

What is the second arrow? It’s something John and I learned in our mental skills training class at Stanford. Let’s say there’s a problem. I focus on solving the problem. That’s the first arrow– dealing with the immediate issue at hand. The second arrow comes from my mind fucking with me. So in this case, not only am I dealing with a very steep learning curve, but my mind (up until this week) just kept questioning and doubting my abilities. Of course, my counter to this is to work my ass off. I’m one month in, and I rarely leave the office before 6:30p despite getting in around 8a.

At night after I get home from the office, I hop on the computer again, scouring sites and news feeds searching for content and tinkering around with web metrics. The existing post schedule is pretty aggressive: on Facebook and Twitter, two posts a day; Instagram is one a day; then Pinterest and YouTube are secondary. I also manage two student interns, and that’s been a struggle. I’m realizing that student interns differ greatly from adult interns. I’m also trying to get a better feel for the vibe on campus… it’s dramatically different from my own college experience decades ago. So yeah, lots of thinking and learning. But also, a lot of extra baggage from the self-doubt and worry.

Yeah. By now, J is really sick of hearing, “I won’t make it past probation. They won’t want me to stay.” I know, I sound so damn dramatic, and how many times have I read/heard/written about women and their goddamn imposter syndrome, right??? I really should know better. Ugh. J reassures me, by reminding me that in my many years of working, I have zero instances of failing to perform. Fine. Gotta focus on the positive thinking.

Thankfully, I am finally feeling better at the start of week 4. The last two days, I queued up a bunch of posts. Of course, that padding is going to dissolve very quickly since I’m going to Asia for 10 days, and then the office is closed over Thanksgiving. But whatevs. I came up with like 25 new FB posts plus 18 Twitter posts so yay for me! The weird thing about social is that it never stops. It’s almost like retail: you have to push out content and stay open even on the weekends and holidays, because those are the times when people look at social. So yeah, I’m going to have to line up MORE content til December 1. I’m still learning about the audiences on the different channels. Last week, I posted a bunch of duds, meaning the posts didn’t score much traffic. The stats were pretty sad, but the numbers are shooting up this week. Hopefully, that means I’m settling in and finding my “voice.”

So tonight I’m taking a mini-break, stopping the content scrounging a little early to update my blog. After all, I know that my hobbies and activities and friendships are what sustain me and keep me balanced. Bad things happen when those things fall to the wayside. Been there, seen that.

What else. Last weekend, we booked our hotel for Tokyo finally. Yup, cutting it really close. I haven’t even looked at flights to Maryland for Christmas. Ugh. A bargain hunters nightmare.

In other news, Marty is doing better. I mean, he still gets spooked and is strangely picky with his eating, but I’m awaiting results from his urine culture from Sunday to see if the bladder and kidney infections have subsided following two months of antibiotics. He has also started a very irritating habit of spitting out his pills, even when I tuck them into those flavored treats called Pill Pockets. I get so frustrated when he spits out the pills. The ultimate annoyance though is that he never spits them out when John gives him the meds. We do it the same way, using the same treats and approach right before feeding his meal, and what. the. fuck? It’s racial!! Marty is a goddamn racist. After everything I have done for him. Let’s just hope he doesn’t pull this shit with Susan. And certainly when I get back, I’m not putting up with it.

Ok, I’m going to bed early tonight. I’ll try to resume a more regular posting schedule, for my own sanity if nothing else!

Seattle Babies and Bums

Last weekend I was in Seattle visiting G and her fam. Baby O is a pretty smushy lil’ blob. Haha. G asked me a few times if I thought he was a happy baby. Ugh, do babies even know happiness at that age? I mean, they’re so freaking little. Plus, to be honest, I took a shit ton of pictures, and he looks disturbed or disgruntled or troubled in nearly ALL of them. Btw, sorry there are no pics of Baby O. His parents are privacy freaks. Ok, not privacy freaks but well, they DID close their FB accounts if that says anything. Anyway, I’m trying to be all respectful and shit about parents and photos of their offspring. Haha. At my last job, we had to get signed releases to post any kid pics.

Anyway, Seattle was great. October is a beautiful time to be up in the Pacific Northwest. We mostly hung out and talked. G and J were subjected to my job search woes ad nauseam. Then, I went on my whole “war on women” tirade. We did stuff with the baby and pup too. I actually held O a few times. I think G was a little surprised. This ain’t my first rodeo, folks. For some reason, my baby friends are always surprised that I’m anywhere near halfway decent with infant care. When I was in high school, my grandmother babysat a family friend’s baby. I got a lot of practice then. I dunno though, maybe people expect me to like feed babies lollipops or hold them upside down or something because I’m child-free. Haha.

G and I had a very full weekend. I flew in Friday, out Sunday. We went shopping. I scored a cool new puffy vest from F21. I also got a new dress from Target. Food wise, you can’t go wrong visiting foodies. They made steak salad one night. We ordered delicious Hawaiian food the next night. The morning of departure, they made French toast. I was re-inspired to get cooking again.

On Sunday, G and I hit a Korean spa. Yup, we got butt naked and wandered from hot room to sauna to hot pool to wet sauna to cold pool… we were there for like 4 hours. Maybe a little too much relaxation for me. Haha. First time doing the nude spa thing. I was ok, but ultimately, I do think I’m too uptight for that shit.

Good Food Takes Time

One of my favorite pizza joints in San Mateo has this sign next to the register. It’s worded in a rather impolite, unapologetic kinda tone, basically saying that good food takes time. If you want fast, go elsewhere for that shit.

This weekend, J and I were in Atlanta for my college roommate’s wedding. In undergrad, we were really close. We roomed together for three years, and during the summers away from campus, we wrote each other regularly. She’s the one who showed me how to make my own stationery envelopes out of magazine pages. After college, things changed. She went to med school, then entered residency. She was in the AirForce too, so she moved around every two or thee years. Life was especially hectic and busy for her. Whenever we got a chance to catch up, there were tons of new names, new stories, new travels to keep straight. Her personality seemed to evolve over time too. In college, she was often very last minute and up to the wire. Now, she was an uber planner: shit was plotted meticulously. Perhaps being a physician demanded this.

Throughout the years, she had numerous relationships. She fell in love easily, and this tempestuous and exciting lifestyle seemed quite glamorous to me. But by our early to mid-30s, I could sense that the routine was wearing on her. The dating, the mismatches, the creeps, the jerks, the nice guys who bored her… I felt her frustration, and I myself couldn’t understand the unfairness in all of this. I mean, how was this gem continually being overlooked? She was smart, assertive, self sufficient, funny, warm, fun… why was her love life such a series of misses? The experience exhausted her and sometimes she would take a break, but invariably, she would get back on the wagon and try again with renewed conviction. Maybe these are the moments when you understand that there is no real choice except to move forward. And voila! Two years ago, she met her match. And what a match S is. When you see the two of them together, the chemistry is palpable. They really complement each other well.

When I received the wedding invitation a year or so ago and discovered it was a destination wedding in Atlanta, a part of me hesitated. I wondered whether it would really matter if J and I attended. After all, Y and I had mostly lost touch. With some friends, you lose touch and as soon as you meet again, things are just like old times. With Y, I saw her a few years ago, and while we were certainly comfortable, we never quite recaptured that same level of magic and intimacy that we shared in college. Thinking about why, maybe there were things in the past that were said, things that were done, maybe there were aspects of being roommates for three years that just kind of weakened the relationship. I don’t really know. People change and evolve. Friendships ebb and flow. Regardless, I eventually decided that this event was the culmination of a very long and arduous journey for her. She had finally found love, and I really wanted to celebrate this special day with her.

The party was a huge bash. She’s Puerto Rican. He’s Egyptian. Enough said, right? Friday night, there was a mix and mingle-style dinner at a rooftop restaurant. Saturday night was the ceremony, reception, and dance party. The setting was a swanky hotel downtown, with a terrace nestled among skyscrapers. Awesome. Sunday was brunch. An entire weekend affair. We met her baby boy too, whom she had just birthed four months ago. Monster baby. I mean, I don’t know that much about child development, but last week, I’d just visited my friend, whose baby is 14 months, and Y’s kid is about that size. He looked so heavy hanging in her skinny arms and against her tiny body. But he was very cutely dressed in a tuxedo onesie, and he was impressively well-behaved. There were about 350 guests. We spent most of the evening with our fellow dorm mate, M. Good times.

Now, I’m on the flight home. And I’m thinking about the journey of finding the right person/job/place/anything. I don’t necessarily think work is at the same level of importance as a partner, but it’s still up there. I met a lot of power players at the wedding: ER surgeons. Dentists. Lawyers. Corporates. The comparison game happens like clockwork. Even though I anticipate the reaction and the pitfall, the response is automatic, practically innate. I’m broken, ordinary, lost, unwanted, unskilled, utterly uncompelling. I know these thoughts do not serve me. I know they are self-destructive. But I am overwhelmed, feeling like I am the only person who has not figured out her life, who has not gotten her shit together. I try my best to pick myself up from feeling broken and insufficient. John always kisses me and tells me not to worry. He claims I’m a late bloomer. One day I will shine. I want to believe, but most days, I don’t. Or most days, I do only briefly… and then I don’t.

I think about Y and her decade plus-long journey searching for love. At times, she was exasperated. She had her self-doubts, she questioned what was wrong with her. But in the end, she forged ahead and continued to push for what she wanted. Persistence, faith, and conviction. The pot of gold was there at the end of the rainbow.

Maybe Windy City Pizza is right: good food takes time. If you can’t embrace the process and demonstrate some fucking patience, go eat that frozen Mama Celeste shit. I know, my mind works in bizarro ways. Pizza, marriage, job hunting. It’s all related!

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Reno Balloon Race

So thrilled my camera captured this in the darkness!

So thrilled my camera captured this in the darkness!

On Friday morning, I realized that the Reno Balloon Race was this weekend. Ever since our amazing trip to ABQ a few Octobers ago, I just have a thing for hot air balloons. Not to go up in one (I’m scared of heights), but just to watch them glow and ascend at dawn. It’s such a peaceful and beautiful experience. So at dinner on Friday night, John and I had a conversation about life and “making it count.” Every time we see our parents, the visit makes us re-evaluate our own lives. I’ve mentioned it before about how my father was obsessed with working, learning, optimizing, improving… A few years ago, I asked him about life regrets. He replied that he wished he had started investing in stocks and understanding the financial markets sooner rather than beginning at 40 years old. Really dad? Your regret is about not building more wealth? Yes, I judged his reply. But looking back, I don’t want to make it seem like my father is superficial. He grew up extremely poor as a child of farmers. First to go to college. First to go to med school. First to leave the island. On the contrary, I am someone who grew up with the privilege that my parents created for me, so I don’t want to dismiss how transformative and impactful money can be. After all, even as I pursue opportunities in philanthropy and nonprofit, I am seeing that influence and change ultimately boil down to money– having the resources to build capacity. And my father to this day, continues to use his resources to benefit his immediate family, his extended family, and causes important to him. I get that. The interesting thing though, is that even though my father’s response was monetary, I feel like there an unspoken answer that’s equally front-of-mind: his shitty relationships with his kids. He never verbalizes this, but I feel it myself: a sadness over the loss of something that just cannot be found again. Some people ask if it’s a lost childhood, because he missed so many activities and school events due to work… I sense that parenting is different now with parents attending ALL the games and recitals and whatever. For me, I never really expected him to be there. I suppose I was independent in that sense. But surely, those absences played a role in creating a rather detached and unengaged relationship. It just is what it is.

I’m a strong believer in cultivating relationships and in self-nourishment through doing activities that you love. And yet, I keep applying to jobs… in areas that I believe in, yes, but also I’m trying so hard to fit my square peg into a round hole. I am gaining more traction on the job hunt, but still, there is no cigar!! And I feel tired. Tired to tweaking and re-tweaking myself and my materials to make my candidacy more appealing, more in line with what people are seeking. Goddamn, sometimes I feel like I’m participating in modern-day dating or something!!

Over dinner last Friday, John put it to me straight. Money is not an issue for us. We are lucky that way. And without kids, we really do have flexibility, so what is the life we really want? This is our opportunity. How do we NOT squander it?

I always say that in my dreams, I would be a writer. I say it like it’s some lofty, unattainable thing. Like when kids say they want to be Batman or something. I never give myself legitimacy as a real writer. Yet, the truth is, I AM a writer in reality. Right now.  I have been writing since childhood. Summer jobs, real jobs, jobs for my parents… I have always written. Even when I think about my current job hustle, I have actually been hustling since high school and college. I used to mail hundreds of letters and resumes out to companies just to convince them to give me a summer internship. In my adult life, I have used my writing to talk about cool engineering innovations, to craft advocacy messages, to tell entertaining stories, to engage others. I carry around in my head that one day I’ll work as a pro-blogger. But John pointed out: how will that happen if you never make your writing/blogging your central focus? If I really want to be a writer, why not just do that and commit to that?

Turns out, this highlights another conflict I have with myself. I’m an idealist, but I’m also a pragmatist. I can’t possibly be a writer/pro-blogger; after all, that idea feels even more far-fetched than me securing a job in philanthropy and corporate social responsibility and I feel like I have the credentials and skills for the latter!! Who is a writer? I don’t even know any writers among my friends, and how would I earn a living? No one pays for content anymore. Look at all those journalism school grads unable to find work. It’s just too much of a stretch.

At the same time, I hear what John is saying. Why am I chasing all these other things? For whom am I chasing? Money is not an issue for survival, and yet money to me means: 1) independence/freedom 2) accomplishment 3) legitimacy. This whole struggle I have had with shame from being unemployed… turns out, I actually give a shit about what other people think! I hate to admit this, and I probably only just realized it now. So many thoughts are going through my head. I still want to work in philanthropy. Getting my nonprofit management certificate really energized me about working in that sector. I still like to solve problems and get things done. But if no one will hire me, how do I create an avenue for myself? I think about how much I’ve been hustling… just to get a job to work for someone else. What if I hustle for myself, for my own business, or for my blog? I dunno. I’m overwhelmed, but I want to take heed. Somehow, I just really want to make this life count.

Needless to say, the dinner conversation touched off a ton of reflection. I want to do better. The question is how. Incidentally, in a moment of distraction, I told John about the Reno Balloon Race. Immediately, he suggested that we go. Mind you, by that time, it was about 9p on Friday night, and Reno is like 4 hours away. No matter. He got the idea in his head, and we mobilized. Packed our things, Martin, and off we went. I booked a hotel in the car. We were feeling pretty proud of ourselves for being all spontaneous and decisive and shit. And then Martin started getting super anxious in the car: panting, trembling…. wtf? It got so bad that we stopped at a random gas station in the middle of the night outside Sacramento (with lots of cop cars pulling in and out). I dunno what was going on. I got out of the car to let Martin out. I had taken off my shoes, and I stepped right onto a pavement littered with dry bird shit. Argh. We walked him and sat with him until he calmed down. But shit, we almost took him to an emergency vet that night.

He has definitely become more skittish since Remy died, but I never coddled Martin about it. And then, he seemed worse after the Napa earthquake. I just took him to the vet last Wednesday, and she gave him a total clean bill of health! I had mentioned the anxiety but I thought it was due to the earthquake, and I actually didn’t think of it as a new condition… Well, clearly now this is a new condition. So the rest of the drive was super touch and go. By the time we arrived at the hotel, it was past 2a. The receptionist suggested not even going to bed, because the balloon events were slated to start at 5a and she said we would need to leave the house at 3:30a because of traffic. Say what?? We didn’t listen to her. We went to bed and then when the alarm woke us at 3:30a, we decided to sleep in and catch the morning activities on Sunday instead. All three of us slept like rocks, and boy did it feel good. That stressful drive really tuckered us out.

Aside from Martin, the weekend was a lovely getaway. I know, no decisions on my job/writing/blogging/consulting paths forward, but heck, we had a fun time watching balloons! Full Flickr album here. Video playlist here.

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Giving Me a Boost!

The night before we flew out of DC, we had dinner with both parental units at Carrabba’s. As I’ve mentioned before, my parents don’t eat a western diet. They’re traditional Chinese that way. So anyway, they’d never been to Carrabba’s before. During our meal, I looked over, and my mother was scarfing down a huge plate of spaghetti bolognese! Holy shit. I was like, “Damn, they must make a crazy tasty spaghetti.” Mom laughed and said she never eats Italian because of my dad, and wow, that pasta was so good! Seriously, the portions there are huge. All. Gone. That’s the weird thing about co-dependence. You sometimes give up so much of what you want to do to accommodate the other person. It’s not that dad specifically made those demands, but over time, mom saw a preference in her partner, and she started adjusting– initially because she wanted for him, but over time, this becomes a pretty slippery slope. My mom-in-law, for example, she used to have all these dreams of traveling. Her husband hates to leave the house. Now, they’re both too old to get around much at all. And with my mom… Jesus, such a simple joy from going out and eating pasta! Just reminds me that it’s important to be giving, but you also have to nourish your own soul to make sure you get what you need for you. That’s right: always be looking out for number 1!

So my interview the day after returning to the Bay Area went well. I still prepped my brains out, but I was less nervous. The director had been at the organization for over two decades!! He just started off the conversation asking if I had questions for him…. oh, do I have questions! Apparently, he liked what I asked, because he commented that in his 25 years, no one had asked him that particular question (What’s your proudest accomplishment or project?). Not unusual to me, but I dunno, he seemed impressed. Then I had a host of others, and he made another remark that he got a good sense for how I thought, based on my questions. Eekkk!! I’ve had people say something similar to me before (L from the airplane), and it always makes me a little self-conscious, even if I think they mean it in a good way. At the end of the conversation, he said I seemed like someone who gets things done. Ding, ding, ding! Music to my ears! Almost automatically, I chimed in that I was ESTJ– THE personality for getting things done. And to my surprise, he knew the Myers-Briggs reference and said he was pretty sure that was his profile also!! Later that evening, he emailed me to confirm. That’s right, ESTJs unite!! I was happy to receive his message. Sadly, I’m still waiting for word on the gig…