Houseboat 2.0

What can I say, Silicon Valley is a unique place. Yes, my perspective comes mostly from the real estate angle. I mean, where else is a dumpy home built in the 1950s with less than 1,100 sf valued at $2.2 million?!?! Even for someone who lives/works/breathes real estate and who witnesses the regular exchange of this “play money,” I STILL suffer from sticker shock. And shit, if you’re hunkering down in your current scrappy abode trying to make things more comfortable with minor updates here and there? Good fricking luck. ALL the contractors and handypeople are booked solid. We just needed the front arbor/beams replaced, sanded, and painted. Guess how many contractors I had to ask before 1) someone actually bid on the job 2) someone accepted the task. Seven. In the end, only two parties were interested enough to bid and accept. I’m telling you: I’ve been itching to get this done since April. And it won’t be done until mid August. So what does this mean? Contractors are busy as hell (if you’re looking for a job/skill that’s high in demand, consider contractor school!!), and if your project is too small, prepare to wait or prepare to shell out some dough.

The good news is that our beams were replaced last week, and next week we’re getting a new roof. Yup, we’re splurging on a foam roof to replace our old tar and gravel. With global warming and all, we have been burning up in this little houseboat. A few years ago, we got a mini-split A/C system in the bedroom. At the time, we were convinced we swore we ONLY needed it in one room. Boy were we wrong. Every damn day, I’m telling Bubs that I must be undergoing perimenopause. I’m known for running cold ALL THE DAMN TIME. Not anymore. That roof, man (which we signed on the dotted line for back in early April), can not coming fucking fast enough. At this rate, Bubs is practically spending every waking hour in the “cold room” with our Yeti doggie. Fuck, it’s been hot. Thankfully, the evenings cool off considerably.

Other than the home projects, I’m dealing with a doggie diarrhea problem. Yup, twice now in the last month, I have come home to find serious explosions in John’s office. Honestly, I think the new batch of dog food was contaminated or something. I put Bentley on a chicken-rice diet, and still, we’re a week in and the situation remains precarious. I called my girl N for advice. She suggested a med and my vet prescribed it today. I’m hoping for a big change within 24 hours. Man, that stuff is hard to clean, even with the amazing power of OxyClean. It’s a mess, I tell you.

What else. I have been working my ass off. Maybe this is nothing new, but I’ve hit a new level of fatigue. The good news is that I am getting closer… I can feel it. And today, I showed my clients two properties (they’ve seen 28 now) and they like them both. I feel like we’re finally in the sweet spot– in terms of finding properties that are suitable to them AND within striking range. Wish me luck, bc I need to get these people into a home. Seriously, I’ve only been working with them since Memorial Day, but they have been on the hunt for over a year. Yes, please tell me we’re getting close.

I’m also getting better about voicing my advice. I’ve learned so much in the last few months. And at this new office, I am observing a lot of the big dogs… I mean, one lady closed $14m in ONE MONTH. It’s true: you are the company that you keep. Being around top producers pushes you in new ways. Speaking of which, I started making calls again. And guess what, I scored a listing appointment for early August. I met this guy at an open house; he talked with my lender; she guided him to me, and he wants to buy up. That might require him to sell his existing home to purchase the next one. Changes are coming around the corner!

Scared Straight Weekend

Well, I know I’ve been super inconsistent with blogging… It’s a very long story, but a lot has happened over the last several weeks. For one thing, the blog bit me in the ass again. You know me with my radical honesty agenda: my blog is my way of telling it like it is, you know? There’s just so much bullshit out there with social media and curated/manicured/sanitized content, and my blog is like my personal mission to be more honest about things than not. Well, it’s bitten me in the ass before, and it happened again.

Basically, a potential client did some digging on me just as he was signing on to work with me, and well, he had ghosted me twice before and he conveniently read about himself on my blog. I mean, I could have asked him, “How do you know that’s about you?” but it was pretty darn clear. And as J suggested, there’s nothing to say when something like that happens. My name has links to my blog and I mean, such is life. I stand by what I said. Obviously, the story is from my perspective. Maybe he had a great reason for ghosting me both times. Maybe not. Either way, the relationship was unsalvageable, so I just cut bait and moved on.

J and a few close friends of mine all had various discussions about it right after the incident. It REALLY bugged me bc in some weird way, this blog has been some sliver of a pipe dream for me… it’s something I have committed to doing since 2003 and there has always been some small piece of me that wished I were a professional blogger or writer. Who knows if that dream will ever come to fruition in the manner that I consider legit… for now though, the conclusion is that I’m now in a customer-facing role… more so than ever before. It’s probable to assume that clients commit to working with me under an unspoken assumption that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. And so while I may be free to talk a little bit about how their behavior and actions make me feel, perhaps I cannot be as radically honest with judging how their actions reflect on their character.

The challenge for me in this is that accountability for your actions ties back to my brother… I have personally witnessed how a lifetime of lack of accountability has caused so many problems… but that’s family and this is business. And actually, maybe there’s some irony in it all bc the client discovering my blog and declining to work with me is also a consequence of my own actions, right? The bottom line? People have reasons for behaving the way they do. And even if my blog doesn’t use names, maybe people don’t really want to know how their actions are interpreted by others, namely me. Needless to say, I lost a potential client who had a hefty budget. Sigh. Live and learn.

A few weeks after that incident, I had a relatively uneventful bday. But a few weeks after, we embarked on our Tiny House adventure in Leavenworth, WA. You know, this real estate business is funny. I spend months and months nixing vacations and holidays to put my nose to the grindstone. Of course, the ONE weekend I decide to plan a trip, I meet someone who wants to submit an offer on a property I host open. The timeline went something like this:

Sunday: I held the open house and followed up with this visitor that evening.
Monday: I followed up again bc the offer deadline was Tuesday. No reply.
Wednesday: The first offer deadline passed, and then the buyer decided he was interested in submitting.
Thursday: I worked on the file, reviewed the disclosures, plus discussed his proof of funds, drafted a letter to seller, talked loan options, contingency removal, pricing strategy… We were trying to get the offer in before that weekend of open house when the property would be exposed to another group of buyers, possibly increasing competition.
Friday: I fly to Seattle and all the while, I’m making calls, prepping the offer package, and struggling with spotty cell signal, no wifi reception, and problems with his esign.
Friday afternoon: Offer is submitted and accepted. List agent is super impressed and comments about how hard I worked to make this happen. Everyone is thrilled.
Saturday morning: Buyer changes his mind. I spend the rest of the day trying to figure out if there is a resolution to his issue.
Saturday afternoon: Transaction falls through. No fault of the property.

It might not sound so bad bc the timeline was uber condensed, but basically, I got no sleep and things were super urgent, super important, and super high stress. My three-day vacation got truncated to a 1.5 of enjoyment. Sigh. I was so very disappointed and bummed.

Nonetheless, the tiny home adventure was awesome. I loved the cluster of homes at the campground by the lake, with each house occupied by our friends. We cooked and picnicked around the campfire. It was lovely. J and I were the only child-free couple, and we dubbed this our “scared straight weekend.” Not only was our child-free choice reaffirmed but damnit, I kept bumping my head in my tiny home! You see, prior to this vacation, I was CERTAIN that I could live the tiny house lifestyle. OMG, I was so very wrong. No-siree. Cross that shit off the list. No f-ing way. Our Hanna house, as adorable as it was, that damn thing was like 170 sf. It was way too small. So we got scared straight a second way: no tiny house in our future. For glamping with the pals though? This arrangement was the bomb. And the kiddos had a blast too. I just wish I had taken more pictures. After we got home, the Houseboat felt especially spacious and luxurious. Muhahaha, everyone is happy now!

Keep Striving

This post spoke to me today, as I woke up feeling rather defeated and frustrated…

My life completely changed in 2010 when I met @em_henderson. I had been living in New York doing random production design gigs when a series of family tragedies kept bringing me back to California. I had to pack up my things and head home. My parents were still living in Yosemite then and I was staying with them, occasionally coming to LA to do random art department jobs. When I applied to work on Emily’s show I had no idea I was applying to be in an on-camera role. But somehow, magically, the audition tape I made, in which I did a cheesy routine where I put on 20 different hats to show I could “wear many hats” made it through casting. My twenties were a mess of a) not knowing what exactly I wanted to do and b) graduating into the worst economy in modern history. I’d been designing spaces my whole life, so it wasn’t a surprise that this might be something I’d do professionally. I think the most humbling thing I’ve learned in my professional life is that hard work and success are not as directly correlated as were led to believe. We are told, “work hard, you will succeed.” But no one ever says, “hey sometimes success is due to random ‘breaks,’ opportunities you never would have seen coming.” I say this because I think it’s important for people who are struggling to gain footing in their careers to not fully blame themselves if they’re not reaching their goals as quickly as they’d like. Yes, your work and intelligence matter. But also you aren’t fully in control of the opportunities that come your way, you can only do your best and try not to be too hard on yourself if success evades you. I have no idea where I’d be if I hadn’t gotten the role on Emily’s show, but I have the feeling I’d be nowhere near where I am now. I owe my career to a casting director in Canada who liked my face and personality. And I have mixed feelings about that. My four Ivy League degrees weren’t enough? The fact that I’d been working since I was 14? My point here is that if you have success, recognize the luck and privilege that brought you here. And if you’re struggling, keep striving but don’t beat yourself up too much if “getting there” takes more time than you expected.

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Charity Wrapped in Dignity

I always found it strange that people would skimp on leaving tip for the hotel room housekeeper; yet whenever they went to a coffee/sandwich shop or even a bar, they’d leave a generous tip for minimum service. To me, it was a gender and race thing: of course the immigrant woman tasked with scrubbing the toilet, changing your sheets, and making your bed would get stiffed while the young hipster barista (oftentimes male) could easily score a handful of dollars just for grabbing a ready-made pastry or pouring a hot drink from a pot. The disconnect always bothered me and I never could articulate why it was so disturbing. Tonight I came across this video, and it captures the essence, I don’t like to use the word “unfair”, bc hello, this is life: it’s never been and will never be fair. That said, I like the concept of charity wrapped in dignity and I hope I can do more of it.

I saw this on LinkedIn

The Reality of this Market

Well it’s been another rollercoaster ride over here on the #RealtorLife. Last week I partnered with an out-of-town agent who had clients looking to buy in my area. From Friday through the following Wednesday, I went on one heck of a rollercoaster ride.

I know it was only a brief period of 4-5 days, but boy, did I bust my ass working on this. For example, on Monday, I was on the phone all day. I had 40 phone conversations, part of my due diligence tracking down answers and doing extensive research on behalf of the clients. In the end, we lost out. The lesson learned? This market is still a seller’s market, so despite recent shifts, it still moves FAST. Homes continue to go into contract without contingencies in less than a week.

As a former engineer, I understand that homebuyers want to be thorough and careful. I identify strongly with wanting to comb through every page if disclosures. After all, this is a monster purchase. But at the same time, ours is a unique market. The seller expectation on hot properties is to have the offer come clean, come strong, and come fast, i.e. hit the number, remove all contingencies, and get the offer in pronto. I think the realization here is that if buyers cannot accept the unknown or feel comfortable enough with taking a leap of faith and/or taking that risk, they need to focus on languishing properties with longer days on market. Alternatively, they might even need to consider bowing out of the market entirely for now. I’m not trying to be rude or harsh. I’m just saying candidly: we know what it takes to win.

The other lesson? Homebuying is a lot like dating. All the stuff along the way matters. Presentation and impression are super important. The sellers and list agents are watching you the entire time, observing every interaction with them and with the vendors: what questions, what deliberations, what requests, what demands, how are you communicating with them? All of these behaviors are indicators and clues for the transaction. Will it be rocky or will it be seamless?

Crash Boom Bang

There’s a first time for everything. After a long and busy day at my open house in Santa Clara, I came home to a lovely meal of lamb chops. The dinner was just what I needed– flavorful and cooked to perfection.

In the middle of the night, I awoke with a gurgling belly. I went to the bathroom thinking something must not be sitting right in my stomach. I felt severe stomach cramping and then I was lightheaded and kinda sweaty. I decided a glass of water would help. The last thing I remember is stepping out of the bathroom. The very next memory is waking up with my face on the floor and my right hand hurting very badly. Yup, crash, boom, bang and just like that I had fainted and collapsed in the hallway. John, who typically sleeps through EVERYTHING, thankfully heard the commotion and found me face down in a pool of blood in the hallway. Meanwhile, Bentley? Totally clueless. Thanks for saving the day, Lassie.

John got me up, I went to the bathroom, and then I immediately felt better. My chin got busted open and it looked like what you would imagine the ground to do after an earthquake. Just a huge crack. We applied some pressure to my face. Meanwhile, my right hand was throbbing, my right shoulder was sore, and my right eye was feeling bruised. I have no earthly clue how the heck I fell in the hall. There are no chairs or stools or anything and somehow I managed to bust up the most random parts of my body. John determined we would need stitches for my face– I mean, it was like an inch-long crack. He called the advice nurse and they recommended we go to the ER bc I had been unconscious.

So about 3am, we’re off to the ER. I tell the story to the staff: had dinner, woke up in the middle of the night with a tummy ache, went to get a glass of water, and collapsed. Uh huh. The doc decided to run a shit ton of tests: xray for my hand, blood work, EKG, CT scan… we were getting worried. I mean, seriously. What kind of 40-something gets a tummy ache and loses consciousness? Makes no sense.

Thankfully, the docs at Kaiser are amazing. I mean, I know people like to knock HMOs, but I have always had a great experiences with KP. Efficient, competent, good bedside manner. Tests all came back normal. The doc stitched up my face. I was being a total vain beotch, asking if she should use superglue instead of stitches… she assured me stitches were the way to go. I walked out of the ER around 6 AM. And I still wanted to host my Sunday afternoon open house. I know, I’m fricking crazy. But with all the bruising setting in, J made me call it off. It was ridiculous too explaining to the list agent and loan officer what had happened. What a bizarre story.

A few days later, I hit up my primary care physician. This lady is a kindred spirit. Every illness i have had, she has ALSO had. I think we’re about the same age too. So many times, I was convinced something was wrong with me or my immune system and every single time, she looked at my test results and reassured me that I was just tired or rundown and got exposed to the germs. I mean, if you don’t believe me: I have had shingles, H1N1, walking pneumonia, the cold/flu for 2 months, and now this. WTF, right? Well she reviewed all the tests. Her answer? This has happened to her. It’s called vasovagal syncope. Basically, when the organs start cramping, the body thinks something is going down. Either it responds with the flight/fight adrenaline rush or it shuts down by immediately lowering the blood pressure. Apparently, when I felt dizzy and lightheaded, I should have just gotten down. Instead, I tried to be a busy-ass body and go to the kitchen to get some water. Blood pressure dropped and I knocked out. And on the way down, I got busted up. So the good news is that everything is normal. The stitches came out a week later and now I’m putting pricey scar cream on this shit twice a day. I’m so vain. Thankfully, it’s right at my jawline and not super visible. As for my black eye, I gotta give a shout out to the power of makeup. People had no idea about my yellow/blue bruising and soreness. They only saw the stitches– the hairs on my chin as I called them. Now things are back to normal and I’m back in the grind. The final lesson? Feeling sick/nauseous/crampy? Get the f down!!

You are SO Rude

Last week, our office hosted a training given by an estate planner/attorney. He was this old white guy who, based on his stories and professional recommendations, you could tell had seen a lot. First, he said that property should never have kids on title, esp property that you live in and will rely on in the future for your own needs. He said, just leave it to the kids AFTER you die, bc if you’re still alive, things can get messy. He also said in general not to leave any responsibilities to any adults under age 35. In his experience, humans just don’t have the emotional maturity or capacity to handle heavy shit and to make important decisions… although, he did say you have to know the personality of the child. Some kids are born 35 y/o. I thought it was an interesting comment though. He also gave multiple examples where he talked about the flexibility of trusts: you can disseminate funds on an installment basis to the kid who can’t control his spending and then you can give larger amounts in full to the responsible kid. I’m not saying this scenario is us, but it’s interesting to see that from a lawyer’s perspective, the complexity and drama that is my family is not unique… In fact, he practically made it seem like this bullshit is the norm and not the exception. He had all kinds of other examples too: say so and so is a druggie, or so and so is a drunk, or s/he does stupid things bc she’s not mature… Man, what a mess. I just sat there in class thinking, I wonder what’s the true extent of dysfunction this dude has witnessed!!! He must have a daily crisis about the future of humanity!

Yeah, it was funny bc I walked out of there thinking to myself, I hope to God I don’t see half the dirt he has seen bc it would really turn me into a big time misanthrope. And then I had an open house in Menlo Park. I actually have a wonderful relationship with the list agent and she reached out to me to host again after they reduced the price. Bc of the listing’s proximity to Stanford, I had really good luck finding strong leads before, you know, like THREE doctor couples and such. Of course, this was also the same property where I met the lady with five properties to sell (her name was on NONE of the deeds) and the old white dude who was supposedly trying out for the Golden State Warriors. Yes, the visitors definitely ran the gamut. So this time, traffic was ok.

This one Asian lady came in and from the get go, she was super standoffish. I gave her a flyer, summarized the house, and she basically told me she just wanted to have a look first. It’s like, yeah. I’m just briefing you for 20 secs then by all means, look on your own. Anyway, other people came in and I chatted with them. Then this lady goes upstairs and comes back to the kitchen area. My lender asks her if she’s working with an agent and she gives this weird laugh and repeats a few times, “That’s the top secret,” Huh? What the hell does that mean? So then I ask her, “So what do you think? …Is this something that falls within your price range?” She smiles and says, “Well, I wouldn’t be here if it didn’t.” Then a few seconds later, she turns and tells me, “You’re so rude. You’re so rude.” I’m totally perplexed. Huh? So then I thought maybe she found it rude that I was asking about money. So I respond saying I didn’t ask you for a specific number; I just asked if this is within a range. Then she gets more annoyed and goes off about how rude I am. She says she has “never met anyone so rude in her life.” WHAT???? I look at my lender like, wtf is happening and my lender is confused too. I was seriously NOT registering how she was reacting. Then she asks for my card like she is going to report me to my broker or something. I eagerly give it to her bc I have no idea what her deal is.

Well the incident really pissed me off and after I got home, I poloed my friends to weigh in. Interestingly, my friend M suggested that maybe my comment implied that she couldn’t afford the house… So here’s the thing. At open houses, you get EVERYONE. People who are serious buyers, people who are just passing by, curious neighbors, hobbyist open house surfers… Typically, when I ask that question, people reply that they are preapproved for XYZ. Or that they want something nicer. Or it’s beyond their budget but they were curious. It’s NBD. And honestly, most of the people don’t know the list price until they get inside and get the flyer so people come in not even knowing whether or not it meets their criteria for price. I dunno. It was just crazy to me. Seriously? That question made me the rudest person she’d ever met in the world??? Where the fuck is she living, under a rock? And why be so offended and insulted? Why do you give a shit whether an agent thinks you can or cannot afford something? I didn’t even have that intention… Frankly, I have seen enough incognito rich people and super flashy poor people to know that how someone looks is never a definitive indicator. Ugh. Anyway, she just really ruined my day. I’m telling you: I see all kinds in this business. People suck.

The Tooter

OMFG, my dad. In the last 24 hrs, I’ve spent about five hours on the phone. Every call is a fucking code red emergency. That’s the thing about dad: he’s a Get Things Done kind of person, which jives with my personality except that all his to-do items are Quadrant 1 priority: BOTH important and urgent. And they frequently involve me. Like I have to drop all my shit and tend to it immediately.

So yesterday, he calls me all frantic before my open house. He has to submit some stock paperwork and the required documents didn’t arrive in the mail after the exact 7-10 business days they told him. So he calls the company again and they say he can access the info online. Except that he doesn’t have an online account set up. Back and forth, they’re trying to guide him to set up an account, and it’s not working. I get called in. But since it’s financial shit, I have to have him on the phone while I do anything on the call. I used my iPhone to conference call with the rep while I was tunneling into his pc, but my cell signal at home kept dropping. I called SIX different times and spoke with six different reps before I realized it was my signal. Meanwhile, they are unable to call me back. I cannot get the same rep. Finally, I have to go outside to the front of my house with my laptop, phone, and iPad. I give up on the conference call and use the iPhone for the customer support dude and my iPad Facetime for my dad. And then I’m holding the two devices close to one another so it’s a conference call. Meanwhile, Bentley is in the yard barking at passerbys. I’m telling you, it was a fucking zoo. Yes, I know. There MUST be a better way. Long story short, I’m on the phone for 90 minutes. I tell the last guy that the account creation process is sending me in a loop. He doesn’t believe me, so I have to repeat the bullshit process again, a sixth time. Same error, like I told him. Oh, now you have to wait 24 hours to do it again and then it should work, he claims. All this just to create a fucking account, I tell you.

This morning, I get a call from dad to schedule me for 3pm to do the tech call. Yes, I know. I already have it in my calendar! Jesus Christ. I don’t need to be poked and prodded like my brother. Meanwhile, John’s flight from Shanghai got delayed five hours. Yup, he was on the tarmac for the whole time. First, it was thunderstorms in Shanghai. Then, some bullshit US-China political reprimand where all carriers were allowed to fly/take off before the US carriers. I go to the airport to get Bubbey around noon and then after I get home, it’s time for my tech support call. Incidentally, Dad’s important document arrived today in the mail, so he was already meeting with the notary. The emergency was averted but he still wanted to proceed and set up online access. What do you fucking know? The account works today. So he’s got everything and is good to go… but wait, there’s more.

His home security system is busted (it’s from the 1980s). If I have time, can I research home security systems for him. I mean, JFC (Jesus Fucking Christ), if I have time? Why even bother qualifying the request? It’s not like I have a choice. And don’t act like it’s Quadrant 4: not important and not urgent, bc before the freaking day ends, I know you’re going to hound me about it already. My solution this time is to do as little research as possible. Just get Comcast home security. Bundle that shit and be done.

Oh and also, while he has me on the phone, can I type of a cover letter to accompany the important paperwork. That’s the thing about dad. When they were visiting last month, I had called about the paperwork and what had to be submitted. They said just mail form XYZ + notary stamp. He kept asking the rep and me, do I need to write a cover letter to go with it? No. Just the form and supporting docs. No, that’s all you need. So what the fuck happens today?

“Oh, I hand wrote a cover letter to accompany the paperwork. Here’s a picture of the letter, can you type it up for me?” That’s the thing. He wants my help but I have to do things HIS way. If I tell him no, he just keeps pestering. It’s annoying as fuck.

So fine, it takes five minutes to type it up but then I tell him: we already went over this a bunch of times when you were here. The rep said nothing else was needed; I dunno why you insist on creating more work for no reason. Well I wanted them to also know that blah, blah, blah. There’s always some reason for the extraneous crap.

I mean, I’m sure this kind of confidence (err self-importance) is very common in entrepreneurs and leaders. They delegate things to others, so part of their job is to convey the importance of what’s being done, so people will willingly take it on, as if what you’re doing to help me is super important…

But I dunno. To me, it’s often needless tedium. Yeah, maybe it helps give a bit more context around the task but it’s superfluous. Sometimes, good enough is appropriate and sufficient.

I mean, he is grateful. He’s always been classy about expressing gratitude towards people who help him. But then with me, he launches into a spiel about how he used to be so self-sufficient when he was younger, and now he needs help. Um, you’ve kinda always needed a lot of my help… just sayin’.

Ugh. Ultimately, everything gets turned into a lesson on how to do things in life the right way. Like his whole, I’m very organized and from my childhood, I always do things very methodically and thoroughly. Yes, you do but you don’t have to remind me of this every damn time we talk on the phone. I know he lives by a very educational approach and philosophy (is it Confucian?), so I’m sure he’s just leading by example. But it can be damn repetitive and self-aggrandizing. Like when he talks about how hard he worked when he was in private practice and how much hustle he has even into his senior years and how he is burdened with so many responsibilities… it’s really hard for me to respond at all. I don’t feel empathy and I’m not about to encourage the Superman attitude. Even Bubbey is noticing now preachy the stories are. He now calls my father the Tooter. Yup, bc he likes to toot his own horn.

A Different Person

Well, two days after we returned from our Italian vacation, my parents descended on the Houseboat. About two months ago, dad had asked for me to book their next flight to Taiwan and at that time, I urged him to use SFO as a stop over. In other words, fly out to California, stay a week, and then fly direct to Asia. Or, stop over here on the way back. It breaks up the trip. Nope, didn’t want to do it. He wants to get there directly and “not waste time.”

I mean, every time he goes to Taiwan, he stays at least a month and a half. What’s another five to seven days added to the beginning or end? He says he prefers the route through Narita in Toyko instead of flying through SFO. Yeah, makes sense if you do the entire trip in one push, but if you split it out into two journeys: east coast to west coast and then west coast to Asia, it’s more tolerable. Whatever. I’m not going to argue with you about scheduling a brief stay (that is along the way) to visit your only daughter. Jesus fucking Christ. I mean, seriously. It makes NO sense unless he’s factoring in some cost factor. Like if he’s using points, a roundtrip from DC to Taipei costs the same amount as a roundtrip from SFO to Taipei. If you split it into two separate trips, you’re basically having to pay extra for the DC-SFO leg. He claims it’s a timing thing… he doesn’t want to bother us and just wants to get over to Asia as soon as possible. And anytime you comment that the flight to Asia is ridiculously long (about 24 hours door-to-door), he responds that he’s done it so much, it’s NBD. Yes, his response is yet another one of his “I’m a soldier who’s fought a thousand battles” kind of things.

John is starting to call him a Tooter, bc my dad likes to toot his own horn. Like anytime you ask if he got good sleep the night before, he says he’s always been a good sleeper. And he can function on just 4-5 hours of sleep. He did it his entire career. Blah, blah. Ok, whatever. Mind you, only like some ridiculously small percentage of the population can function and thrive on 4-5 hrs/night, but sure, you’re Superman. SMH. Anyway, when I was booking his flights, he asked me when might be a good time to visit. I said that I was really trying to hustle before my office anniversary in June bc any transactions I did from now until then, I would earn my full commission without having to pay out the office split. That split resets in June.

So then what does he do? He wants to come in early May bc that works better for his Taiwan trip, which seems arbitrarily selected anyway. OMFG. That’s what I mean: why ask if you’re going to completely disregard my response? I’ll just make it work.

So they came and overall, it was a good visit. We stayed locally and did a variety of activities: Stanford gardens, bocce ball, open houses, new construction, meals out, meals in the backyard, etc. Mostly though, if you get them a Chinese newspaper every morning and eat seafood meals here and there and have Chinese programming at night, they’re happy.

Mom is doing ok, but still declining cognitively. The weird thing is, she is an entirely different person now than the woman who raised me. She used to be so damn fearful and neurotic and naggy… now she’s easy going and holy crap, she lives in the present. We used to fight ALL THE DAMN TIME and my brother always came up as a point of contention. Now, there is no mention of him. I feel sad that she requires so much care and repetition, but at the same time, she just seems so much happier. She laughs a lot. I sometimes wonder how our relationship would have been different had she been this person while I was growing up.

As expected, my father is still involved in a gabillion things. He just won’t fucking let up and the caretaking responsibilities for my mother are visibly wearing on him. He basically never leaves her alone, and bc her short-term memory is so bad, he has to repeat things super frequently. And she gets confused easily, even with daily conversation. On the other hand, bc she’s so chill now, there’s no more bickering and fighting between them. Still, I can see that he’s lost a peer and a companion. I’m sure that handling so many important decisions alone is lonely, overwhelming, and burdensome.

As usual, John is amazing with my parents. Honestly, he is like the child they never had: smart, patient, successful and just so damn considerate and kind. He found a Chinese soap opera and started watching it with my mom (while I was working on my computer). He talked to my dad about healthcare and stocks and tech and stuff on CNBC. I feel so blessed for myself and my parents that Bubbey is such a caring and gentle soul. I bet my parents wonder where/how they went wrong to produce such asshole dickwad punks. Sigh.

We had some serious conversations on this trip too. I got a tiny bit more insight about their medical directives and the living trust. I mean, for someone as detail-oriented as my dad, he really shared some bare bones, vague shit but I’m working on getting it all spelled out. Goddamn, it reminds me of that potential seller I met months ago… every important document she had was physically printed and she just lugged them around with her. Nothing was digitized. SMH. Kinda similar but at least my dad has a computer and a cell phone that he actually keeps turned on.

It’s Not About You

From a super young age, I’ve always been judgey. It’s gotten a shit ton better in my older years, but it’s still there. I think it cultivated early on, bc my parents are hypercritical people. They used to always have comments about shit– you know, boatloads and boatloads of (unsolicited) feedback. I think part of it is being Chinese: To succeed in their school system, you have to be competitive and to be competitive, you have to constantly know where you stand among the others. On top of that, my father is also a very straight arrow and he has a very strong compass calibrated to his own sense of right and wrong. People and their life choices (and the consequences) are then judged against that compass. It’s probably not anything that is unique to my father… everyone does this to some extent but he is just more pronounced about it.

So from childhood, I was very attuned to observing others and comparing/contrasting behaviors, qualities, achievements, etc. And more specifically, I was hyperaware of any inconsistencies or hypocrisies. It’s kinda strange bc now as a weathered adult, I feel like hypocrisy is just part of being human.

I may have mentioned this already but over Christmas, when I was home in Maryland, I met up with T, a friend from the second grade through post college. She’s the one with her parents in failing health and she’s the one left having to figure it out (lame brothers unite!)– like where they can get care and how to fucking pay for everything. It’s a nightmare lesson in poor parental planning, to be honest. Anyway, among all her family drama and burdens, she talked a lot about alignment– having her actions align with her beliefs. And a few years ago, I was all up in that shit. In fact, that’s largely what drove me to leave nearly all of my jobs. I just couldn’t stand the misalignment I felt with management and/or the mission. I had this notion that being true to yourself was of utmost importance.

But now I feel differently about things. I mean, sure, I still have a proclivity for the black and white. I want things simple, cut and dry, spelled out down to the t. BUT I dunno. With all the recent news and just grime that I’ve gathered from life, I really wonder now whether alignment (like fairness) is a realistic expectation. Take, for example, the animals. I know about the horrors of the meat/dairy/food industry at large. Yet, I continue to eat meat, drink milk, consume cheese, buy leather… I know about animal testing. And I still buy Covergirl cosmetics bc that’s the only shit that covers my blemishes without giving me breakouts. My younger self would NEVER have forgiven myself for these selfish and insular choices. But my older self? I dunno. I’m beaten down and tired of fighting. I feel like the best I can do is eat less meat or try to eat “organic” meat (even if I know the labeling system is bogus). Is it bc I am in survival mode? Or has life turned me into a nihilist? Maybe a bit of both?

Beyond my self-judgement, my judgeyness of others has also evolved. I used to notice and be annoyed by all the contradictions in people I knew. Like with my dad: how could he be a non-religious, pro-choice OB/GYN who repeatedly voted Republican? Or, even now, how can educated, “smart” people still support Trump? I suppose what I’m coming to learn now is that life just doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why did we ever have the expectation for it to make sense to begin with?

I mean, did you hear about MLK? Such an impassioned orator and advocate– the leader of a fucking important movement. Well, turns out he was a total sex fiend, philanderer, womanizer. His poor wife. That’s what I mean: People we admire, trust, love, and follow. They make choices that are so non sequitor. What about Elon Musk. Innovative, articulate, intelligent. Why is he always dating women just past pubescence? Ok fine, older than that but STILL in their freaking 20s. I mean, am I supposed to believe that the kindred spirit thing transcends so many decades of age for SO many powerful and successful men? Puhleeze. Look, no matter how precocious, I highly doubt that humans are mentally/emotionally mature and developed in their 20s. Just saying. So where am I going with all this?

I notice the discrepancies. But in general, they no longer faze me. If you were to tell me my mailman were a pedophile, I would not even be surprised. So if reality is just laden with treachery and deceit, maybe I just want a break from the incessant surveillance. I mean, I am exhausted by the constant watching. And ultimately, what’s the frickin’ point?

On a more personal note, the inconsistencies used to bug the hell out of me. For example, I had a friend tell me multiple times that I was like a sister to her. Every time my bday would roll around, she’d forget to acknowledge it. Not a huge deal considering my own parents oftentimes forgot. But she would call weeks later and say, “Oh, I don’t celebrate bdays or holidays so I never keep track.” Ok, that’s fine. Then, her sister had a kid. And all of the sudden, every milestone was remembered, and she even hosted a crazy bday bash for the kid when she turned 5. The lesson? Family is always different than friends. No matter what people claim.

Another example? John and I adopted Bentley in January. I have some good friends who have yet to meet him. I get that he’s not a human. He’s not a newborn baby. But if I, as a child-free person, acknowledge the importance of your child… shouldn’t you demonstrate a similar level of respect for my milestone? I’m not all up in a rage about it. I know that life happens. People get busy. I’m not infallible. But these are things I notice. And they bug me. My younger self would be far less forgiving. My older self feels it, is annoyed by it, but what more can I do? People choose their priorities. Life goes on and disappointment abounds.

Hmm, turns out I might actually be onto something with this “sweeping it under the rug” approach. Apparently, when people are chronically late, you shouldn’t take it personally, bc it’s not about you.

Yup, all happy thoughts today. It’s been one of those days. I spent the afternoon checking in on people (potential leads) and not hearing one darn word back. Jesus Christ. Why don’t people have the decency to reply? It can be as simple as, “Thanks but no thanks.” or “Not interested now, but please check back in two months.” Ugh. Time for a break– taking the pups for a walk.