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.

Serenade

Day 5. I’ve been doing a shit ton of work remotely. You know things are bad when your escape involves working remotely for a job you hate. Ah well, on the bright side, I like to get shit done. Shrug.

My sleep schedule here is all kinds of fucked up. Yesterday, after we finally returned from the hospital at 6p, my cousin and I headed out again bc he was craving beef noodle soup like a goddamn addict. He’s not from KHH (airport code for Kaohsiung) so we ended up getting lost and driving around forever. I guess my mother conveniently forgot that she accused me of having an inappropriate relationship with this same exact cousin, bc she tasked us with running errands for her, i.e. buying grandpa a blood pressure monitoring machine and then a bunch of drinks for home.

When we finally arrived at the noodle shop, my cousin ordered me the wrong damn thing, and my bowl was chock full of beef organ meat, including furry stomach and intestines! Needless to say, I ate around everything and just had the broth and noodles while he had a double heaping of yum. After that, we went searching for the goods my mom requested… I have to say, Taiwan reminds me a lot of China. Some chores that are super simple in the US just take forever here. For example, my cousin couldn’t figure out how to use the GPS in dad’s car, so he was fidgeting with his iPhone, and we STILL kept getting lost. And no, K, it wasn’t bc he was trying to prolong our romantic time together!! Long story short, the grocery store didn’t even have the special drink she wanted. Argh! We didn’t get home until 10p, and I was completely wiped.

This morning, I was up early again, 4a. I did some more work. My grandfather had an appointment again at the hospital for an ultrasound. At least my mother had the sense to just take a cab. Mind you, the appointment was at 10a. Because she wasn’t exactly sure where the ultrasound would be performed, she insisted on leaving early. Just how early? They left at 8a, and the hospital is 30 min away. Grandma got dragged along again. I guess I should stop making it seem like she’s going against her will. Maybe she wants to be with my grandfather. I don’t know.

By 9a I finally had the house to myself for the first time ever. The phone rang, and A-Hong’s mom said she’s coming down from Tainan. Something like she needs to deliver some special foods she bought for me. She also wants to meet the oldies at the hospital. I tell her they’ll probably be with the doctor; just come to the apartment and wait for them to get home. I’m telling you: this Confucian filial piety shit is no fucking joke. So much babying all around!! It is SUFFOCATING. At 10a, I finally leave the house. My go-to joint is the 7/11 downstairs. In my defense, the 7/11 has a lot of hot foods in addition to sushi rolls and bento boxes and soft serve ice cream. My mother wants paperclips (she has zero stationery supplies). No paperclips. I cross the street and head over to the park to just chill on a bench and drink my milk tea. Inhale, exhale. Thank goodness for some fucking solitude.

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Afterwards, I head back thinking my aunt will be arriving shortly. The phone rings, I pick up and the lady, thinking I’m my mother, starts asking me if I like to sing. I tell her, I’m my mother’s daughter. Turns out Mrs. Chen is one of many matchmakers my family uses (for my brother and for my other single cousins). She immediately starts advising me to have a son. No holds barred, man. I explain that I’m American, and I have a different cultural mindset. No kids for me. She persists… a baby girl or boy is fine. You can’t grow old alone! Jesus fucking Christ, people! I tell her that I’m too old. She tells me she knows someone who gave birth at 42. I redirect the conversation back to singing. My mother likes to sing, and actually, it would be great for my mother to get out of the damn house and do some hobbies. I mean, I’m not sure about being friends with a matchmaker, but whatevs. Desperate times, desperate measures. I ask Mrs. Chen where the karaoke spot is. She sings in her house. Her daughter hooked her up with old school Mandarin and Taiwanese songs on the computer. Then, she offers to sing me a song!!! WTF?? Yup, so she blasts it through her speakers and I get serenaded with a Taiwanese song that I don’t understand. What can you do: Mrs. Chen is 80 years old. She’s like a honey badger: she don’t give a fuck. I mean, you gotta give her props for that, right?

Hospital Arrest

Day 4. As you know, I frickin’ yelled my head off at mom early this morning, at about 8a. My mother later tried to backtrack on some of the things she said to me, maybe in some lame attempt to lessen the blow of her offensive comments. Whatever. Then she said something like she’s never said anything critical about my relationship with John, but that’s total bullshit. How easily she rewrites history. Just say you’re sorry, and shut the hell up. You’re only digging the hole deeper and deeper.

By 9a, dad called again from the US, and he’s a health fanatic. He is worried that my grandfather’s swelling in his feet is indicative of something more serious… a heart condition or whatever. So, he asked me to take Yebbie to the veteran’s hospital for a same day appointment. Once again, mom insisted that the whole damn family go along, “in case Nai Nai falls and is home alone.” Uh, you do realize that you yourself are not monitoring Nai Nai 24/7? What happens at night when she gets up to use the bathroom… it’s not as if you are awake in case she were to fall. Stupid logic. I say this bc all my grandmother really does is sleep, and she’s not very mobile. So shuttling around my grandmother and grandfather is not exactly streamlined. I drive them to the hospital.

Another session with the backseat driver. She keeps insisting I turn at the intersection. I tell her I’m driving through it and then taking a right on a small alleyway instead. Freak out again: “You missed it; we passed it!” Pipe the hell down. A minute later, we are at the hospital parking lot. I pull up out front to drop them off at the door. Wait for me by the door while I park. I get inside, and my mom has already left. I then take my grandparents from the main building to the outpaitient building. It’s a long walk, so we stop halfway. I don’t know where exactly my mother is, so I tell them to wait while I find her first. I go, find her, then realize you can rent a wheelchair. I get one, go back, and my grandparents are gone. WTF, people?????? So then, I’m pushing around this empty chair back to the Main Building then the other way back down to my mom. Finally, I find them. Jesus Christ. We get a number for the cardiologist. We are number 59. The lady estimates 1p. We arrived at the hospital at 9:30a. It is now 4:45p, and they are only on 56. Holy fucking mother of God. I suggested to my mother that we go home midday and come back. No. Wow, I’m sure glad I stayed in the hospital all damn day just waiting. On the positive side (new attitude November and all), fortunately the hospital has a ton of services. I managed to purchase maps and stationery at the bookstore; I mailed the Medicare forms to my dad at the post office; I hit up the 7/11 for some food and drinks; I browsed some clothing at one of the shops; I bought a bath scale and gloves for home. My dad wants Yebbie to weigh himself every damn day. My dad is hardcore about diet and weight. Meanwhile, has he even used the fancy elliptical I bought? Nope.

In other news, Marty is back to getting subq fluids every day. John finally stepped up and administered the fluids this evening. The urinalysis from Thursday night came back negative, so the vet thinks the newest symptoms are either kidney disease related or something else. Bubbey is giving him some appetite stimulant meds, and he’s eating at least once a day. Man, I was just saying it would be easier to find a sitter for Martin over Christmas now that he is low maintenance. Looks like I spoke too soon.

Number 57…. seven hours and waiting. It’s been a long ass day, especially since I’ve been up since 2a. I’m so glad I blow vacation days every year for this special time with my family. Oh, I also got an email from my brother today, urging me to reconsider an opportunity to meet his master, a “living Buddha.” I will say, this email didn’t anger me as much as his messages from the past. I suppose other people (not my mom, obviously) are learning to adjust their communication style so as to avoid my wrath. That said, no thank you.

Ok, finally! Yebbie’s number is up. All it took was 8 hours! Hopefully, he’ll be done soon. My cousin is coming over tonight to stay with us a few days bc his work sent him to training in Kaohsiung. Hopefully, my mother doesn’t act like a dumbass given our incident earlier today. Fucking A. I may need to admit myself into an asylum after this trip. Truthfully, it’s probably not that different than going back to work. Saturday return. Monday back in the office. I’m such a goddamn martyr.

Mom vs. Work: I Choose Work

misunderstanding

Surprise, surprise, it’s Day 4 in the middle of the fucking night here, and I am full-on livid. My mother drives me goddamn insane. Let’s start from the beginning, bc I know you care. First order of the day was to set up a new bank account for my maternal grandfather. The other night, when J and I took mom walking in the vicinity, we came across a bank. It was on the north side of the park. Yesterday evening, when my mother told my dad we were going to the bank, he probably spent 30 minutes trying to give her directions on where the bank was. Finally, I told him to stop micromanaging everything and that we would get her to the bank.

So this morning, my mother is insistent that she knows where the bank is. My 90+ year-old grandfather comes along. We get outside, and I tell her I’m pretty sure it’s on the north end. No, no, no, she knows where it is. So we walk all along the south end of the park– a pretty good distance in the humid, muggy heat. Guess what. The bank is in the northeast corner. I mean, sure, we’re allowed to make mistakes bc that’s part of the growth mindset. Just uh, if you are so goddamn insistent and my grandfather is hobbling along, can you please be sure you’re right? Fine. At the bank, everything takes for fricking ever. Flashback to my days in China…

We finally are done and head back. We stop by the 7/11 downstairs to get lunch bento boxes. I’m already exhausted. While everyone sleeps, I go out and explore around: buy some stamps for mom and some soft serve ice cream she’s been talking about. In the afternoon, I take my mother to Costco, which is down the road. Again, she tries to be the backseat driver even though I tell her I read the map and know how to go. Pretty much every other turn, she advises the opposite direction of what I’m supposed to do. I just ignore her.

Costco appears pretty similar to the US version. Everything is at least $10 USD. We get home, and the oldies are famished. I can’t get food on the table fast enough for them. God, is this the hustle involved with feeding a family? By 7p, I am fucking exhausted again. Throughout the day and night, calls come in: from my dad, from two aunts, from my cousin… back and forth. Logistical shit about groceries and the required paperwork for my grandfather’s health insurance here. Blah, blah, blah. It’s kinda like my dad is the CEO and then all the relatives are his employees getting shit done. It’s too damn much. Again, this is why people like my mother and brother are unable to do shit on their own, bc they are constantly babied. My father argues that there’s an efficient way to do things. Well, I don’t want to be involved in every fucking detail, so let people get things wrong so they can learn it themselves. This dichotomy in philosophy has been a point of contention between myself and my family since the very beginning. I’m all about efficiency, but fuck man, I’m also about self-sufficiency, empowerment, and independence.

Other logistical debates center around money and currency exchange and depositing money. Old people: sometimes they are distrustful of banks. Long story short, 8p rolls around and I am beaten down. I go to bed. Then, at 2a, I awake. Do some work: guidance to a student intern who’s creating a video. Then my mother wakes and tells me my fav cousin, Hong is dating a new lady. My family is hyper gossipy and is always obsessing about the single folks getting married… I don’t want to get involved and say just that. Then, my mother asks me if I like my cousin!!! And she isn’t meaning as a friend. I about lose my shit. “What are you talking about? We’re close cousins. Yes, I like him.” WTF???? Then she says, I seem unhappy that he has found someone. I tell her that I haven’t even spoken to him at length about anything, so I don’t know what his situation is. “Oh well, you should ask him.” It’s like look: people can be single. You don’t have to harass them about their status all the fucking time. Maybe they are ok with it. If not, your added pressure does NOT help. And second, I’m not going to fall into your bullshit gossip circle. If I talk to him and he mentions it, then I’ll listen. What, bc I don’t immediately jump for joy about him possibly having an interest (whom we’re not even sure he likes), then I’m interested in him? Then she says all this shit about my marriage and that I need to support it. OMFG, are you kidding me? You, who practically has a parent-child relationship with your spouse, are giving me marriage advice? LI-VID.

Here’s the thing: I know some people are not on board about me having guy friends whom I’ll stay with overnight. I know that’s sometimes a difficult or counterintuitive concept, and people are doubtful or suspicious or whatever. It’s an old question of whether platonic opposite-sex relationships are legit. Whatever. The thing is, though, at the end of the day, it’s MY BUSINESS. And then for her to suggest something inappropriate with my COUSIN??? I’m completely enraged. It just adds to her overall cluelessness about everything! Part of me wanted to be sarcastic and say, “Yes mom. I’m having an affair with my cousin.” But she gets confused easily, so I just said, “Yes, we are close friends. Just bc we’re close doesn’t mean we are having a sexual relationship.” I am sickened that I even have to spell this out. Do you see what I mean? Does she even KNOW her own daughter?

I tried to calm myself down by thinking about my friends who have made comments before about my friendships with guy friends. They ask and want to know. Why do I have the patience to explain to them, and yet when my mother asks, it’s an absolute outrage? I don’t know. I feel like I explain to my friends, and then it’s done. With my mom, she responds by saying all this extra crap like, “I just want you to treasure your marriage. I say all these things bc I care about you.” Fucking bullshit. You just worry about what other people think. And you yourself have watched way too many soap operas.

Whatever, then the conversation evolves into trying to pressure me re: the amount of money I’m gifting. She says that I need to save money for myself, bc I don’t have kids and none of my nieces and nephews will care for me when I’m old. I really don’t give two fucks about getting old. I don’t want my nieces and nephews to take care of me. I really feel like once I get to that point, I’ll be ok with assisted suicide or whatever. Anyway, round and round. Like I said, she’s paranoid and neurotic. I told her our finances are fine, and I’m going to leave my job soon. I don’t want her calling me every damn day harassing me about my job status. Yup, in my fit of rage, I forgot my plan to just leave my job decision secret. I was going to pretend like I was still working… Oh well. Gone down the drain.

Clearly, I cannot stand how fucking polar opposite we are. I told her that I don’t live my life with all that distrust of people and debilitating fear, so I am not going to take any of her advice bc it does NOT apply to me. I swear to god, she misreads EVERYTHING. I didn’t show curiosity/interest in my cousin’s dating life so automatically that means I’m jealous bc I want him for myself???? ARGH!! She is CRAZY!

After she finally left me the fuck alone, I just sat in the dark trying to pipe down. I wanted to call Bubbey but he’s at work bc it’s midday in California now. I keep thinking to myself: she’s mental. Can you fault people who are sick or ill? They can’t help it. But holy fuck, sometimes I HATE HER! I know I sound like a freaking high schooler slamming doors and stomping my feet, but why is she is so frustrating? What is the right way to cope with her? Like the cousin scenario. Was I supposed to just calmly reply. No, Mom. I do not have the hots for my cousin. I’m thrilled that the aunts set him up (matchmaking is big here) with a suitable person. Maybe he can finally settle down and have a family. More grandkids for my uncle and aunt. Yay!! SMH.

Then all day she’s been bitching about her mobile phone. It’s not the most user-friendly, that’s for sure, but all she needs to know is how to answer, hang up, check missed calls, and dial. Well in Taiwan, there are a shit ton of spam text messages. The messages are purportedly from Taiwan Mobile, saying you haven’t paid your bill. So she’s freaking out. I told her to call and ask the company. Of course, in my family’s typical fashion of over complicating EVERYTHING, it’s registered under my aunt’s name (hand holding central!) so she can’t get into the account. Blah, blah. Last time this happened, my aunt called, and the rep said the messages are spam. Well, clearly mom doesn’t accept that answer, and she insists something is wrong. I tell her that tomorrow we’ll go visit my paternal grandfather and then she can go to the store who set it up for my aunt and show them the messages. She wants ME to go. Meanwhile, I can’t read and I only know conversational level Chinese. WTF. I’m not going to solve your problem for you. I will drive you there and go with you, but I’m not going to be your messenger. She says she doesn’t know the terminology and the technology. Well, neither do I.

I can’t fucking do this. Why can’t she just be a normal fucking person?

My Worst Self

It’s been a while since I’ve flown on China Airlines. I was totally expecting an airplane packed with Taiwanese people, but as it turns out, the flight was code shared with a gabillion other airlines, including Vietnam, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Here I was bitchin’ about the nearly 14-hr flight, and for so many other passengers, there was way MORE to go! Eek!

I landed in Taipei around 6a on Saturday morning. After I refreshed in the airport bathroom and made myself presentable, I hitched a bus to the high-speed train to the metro, and then walked in the god-awful heat and humidity to my parents’ apartment. I cannot tell you how many times in the weeks leading up to my trip my parents kept giving me directions (some of which was wrong!). Um, I can look shit up on the internet. Also, dad kept wanting my aunt to meet me at the train station to show me the way home. Jesus-fucking Christ. I’m almost 40 y/o: I can use maps, read romanized Chinese signs, and speak Mandarin. I’m fine!! So I showed up at the door, and mom acted like it was a goddamn miracle.

As an added welcome bonus, my brother J was already at the apartment. He had come down from Taipei to Kaohsiung the night before. My family is always force-feeding relationships. Interestingly, he was decently tolerable and seemed actually helpful/caring with my maternal grandparents. Maybe times HAVE changed.

Man, dad had been complaining about Yebbie (maternal grandfather) getting fat, but I thought he was just overreacting. Nope, Yebbie is indeed quite rotund! What a difference from last May when he was hospitalized after his fall. He and Nai Nai look ok though. They were plopped in front of the tv with the volume at super high decibel, but it was good to see them.

I settled in, took a shower, and then got out all the medical forms my dad asked me to bring over. Immediately, mom started insisting that I have my grandparents practice writing their sigs, bc sometimes they’ll sign outside of the box or whatever. Huh? I gave them the form and pointed exactly to where they needed to sign. Done. On the first try. Mom was all surprised. Holy fuck, she’s needlessly obsessive and cautious. I tried to talk to my grandparents a bit, but either they were distracted by the shouting tv, or they just didn’t have much to say. In that sense, it wasn’t so bad having my brother to talk to, even if we talked about re-incarnation. The thing about J: He’s a very personable, smart guy who can make topics like re-incarnation sound totally legit and academic. Maybe all that thespian training. Since joining his religious cult, as I call it, he’s been getting into all of that meditation, positive psychology shit… which I have also explored, but independent of religion. Kinda weird to have some overlap there. Then again, I haven’t exactly implemented what I know about positive thinking… I dunno. Maybe there’s hope with mending that relationship. Not sure.

At lunch time, we all walked to a nearby noodle shop.  It took about ten minutes just to leave the apartment, bc mom had to shut all the windows, lock her bedroom door, and check on the stove for the fifth time. OMG, borderline Howard Hughes. After we returned home, I conked out in the afternoon. In the evening, J and I took mom for a walk just in the surrounding blocks. Mom doesn’t get out much, thanks to years of full-blown codependence on my dad. With dad back in Maryland for several months, I think she just stays at home cooking and cleaning. My aunts actually come twice a week to bring groceries and visit! I mean, clearly I’m judging bc I think it’s ridiculous to get to this point where you are fully able-bodied, and yet you convince yourself that you’re paralyzed. This just furthers my case against this culture of filial piety and being overly hospitable/helpful: people become stupid and incompetent, bc they are never allowed to try things on their own. There is so much goddamn hand-holding!

On Sunday, my paternal grandfather in Wulong (30 minutes south) invited the family for lunch at a fancy sushi restaurant. My father got all involved, and he wanted my aunt to drive 45 min from her house so I could follow her back to Wulong. Dad, I HAVE GOOGLE MAPS!!! Finally, they let us drive unchaperoned. Google maps estimated 45 minutes, so I planned for a 10:30a departure. At 9a, I went down to the building gym with Yebbie, and my mom started harassing me that we don’t have time bc I’ve never driven in Taiwan and we need to go early just in case. I ignored her and continued. At 9:45a, she came down all frantic bc we’re going to get lost and arrive late and people will be kept waiting, blah, blah, blah. Fucking full-blown neuroses!! Fine, we’ll leave ridiculously early. Again, ten minutes to leave the damn house, bc she has to check everything. We get in the car, and immediately, she (who hasn’t driven in five years) starts being a backseat driver even though we’ve already established that my brother knows the way AND he is holding the map. On the drive there, for every conversation I’m having with my brother, my mother answers for him and interrupts. She has THE worst social skills: she doesn’t listen, she inserts herself into other people’s conversations, she cuts people off… zero self-awareness. When we bring it up to her, denial and excuses. She says no one has ever complained to her. She’s an only child, blah, blah. An entire car drive full of friction and aggravation. I wanted to pull over and kick her out of the car, she pisses me off so badly. And wowee, look at that: we arrived without any incident! What a surprise. And guess what else: everyone else was late! SMH.

God help me for Day 3.

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Hanging with my Homie

After my time in NYC, I rode the MegaBus (first time ever) up to Boston. I mean, sure the reviews on Yelp are super hit or miss. The thing is, the trip was $13 (vs. about $100 on Amtrak), so you know cheapie cheaps had to try. Well fuck. I even paid the extra $3 for an upgrade to a seat at a table and shit, it was still crammed as hell. I would say, even more crammed than an airplane seat. Then, because I hustled out of the last conference session and walked several blocks to the bus station, I neglected to buy some water. Needless to say, a few minutes in to the ride, I started feeling super nauseous, you know, with the pre-puke juices flooding in my mouth. It was bad fucking news, man. Thankfully, I was able to conk out and forget that my body was dehydrated. It was also a bit uncomfortable being in such close quarters with strangers. I mean, the lady next to me kept showing pics of her two sons on her phone. I was just trying to not puke, you know?

Once I got to Boston though, things were all good. It was just so nice to reconnect with my college bud J. We met in 1995 (pre-Bubbey), and there is just something so comforting about really old friendships. I mean, those bonds form during such a transformative time… there just really is something to be said for proximity, vulnerability, and shared experiences. We had a really great time. I mean, we’re both miserable in our jobs so that doesn’t help, but talking to J was a good reminder for me: we are so much more than our jobs. I mean, I get so obsessed about figuring out my work life and career that I forgot about who I am beyond that. And certainly, shame on me for letting myself go, for letting myself get so burned out that I don’t even have hobbies and interests anymore. Shame on me.

That said, workaholism is real. The first day, J didn’t take off of work (surprise, surprise). Hubby J was so stunned. Me? Not so much. I spent the day exploring Boston on my own, clocking 20k steps. It was actually really nice to walk around and not have to talk to anyone all day. Hmm, does that mean I am an introvert then? The quiet was fucking nice. Boston is so pretty this time of year with the changing fall colors, and fortunately, the temps were unseasonably warm so I really scored the best of everything! Saturday was Halloween. J introduced me to a “friend” of his. She reminded me a lot of my former coworkers: uber treehuggery and shit. But she did wetlands protection work, and it kinda made me think about going back into environmental engineering. Anyway, I was really impressed by her: she’s a few years older, single, but goddamn, living life to the fullest, being super active and energetic. She was telling me how obsessed she is with Travelzoo and Groupon. In fact, she had just booked a trip to Africa in two weeks. She was like, I’m not married; I don’t have kids; I have tons of vacation, and I have lots of single friends who love to travel. Wow. Who does that? Seriously, who buys and then goes in TWO WEEKS? So Halloween night, we went on a guided tour through downtown Boston, with lots of historical tales of scandal and such. We went through the uber posh neighborhood of Beacon Hill (walked past John Kerry’s house) where they actually do a cool family friendly neighborhood street party. I mean, I’m anti-kid but shit, I will choose strollers and cute kiddie costumes over NYC Halloween raunch any day. I saw a very old white-faced beagle in a hot dog costume. So damn cute.

On Sunday, I slept in and then we headed across the bridge to Seaport (or Seaside). The day was dreary and cloudy– unusual for my trip but typical for Boston–but we had a delicious lobster roll. I love me some lobster rolls. We chilled, chatted in the car, and then off to the airport. I gotta say, that $100 for Global Entry (with TSA Pre included) for multiple years is so money. No removing the laptop or toiletries or boots or anything. Through security in no time.

Of course, the flight home hit all kinds of snags. A no nonsense direct flight from BOS – SJC ended up taking off late, taking a detour to Salt Lake City for refueling, and arriving three hours late on a super bumpy ride. Still, the respite was a welcome one. Now J and I have bets on who’s leaving the job sooner. I’m pretty damn sure I’m winning that one.

Ostrich

So I’m in NYC this week for a digital marketing conference. My attitude at work has gotten dramatically worse in the last several weeks, exacerbated by the continued disorganization, shit communication, and crisis environment. Just like Arianna Huffington has spoken about our society’s glorification of busy, my workplace does something similar but instead, it’s glorifies urgency. Needless to say, my already low level of tolerance is wearing especially thin. Even my boss has mentioned a few times: come back from NY re-energized and optimistic.

In the last several days, she’s also dropped Asian parent guilt trips like, “My ass is on the line; can you help me?” I don’t think her fear is rational, but at the same time, when someone you know acts like the sky is falling, it’s hard to stand by and not get involved. It’s frustrating as hell trying to manage my own emotional and mental stability when I’m exposed to this level of anxiety and neuroses every day. It triggers certain aspects of my childhood. Anyway, it’s a daily struggle trying to maintain my own sense of self within the chaos–warranted or not.

So Monday night, I hit the eject button and flew out of my current enironment: hitched that red-eye into NYC. I made the mistake of eating some chocolate early on in the flight, so I didn’t conk out as usual. Tuesday morning, I did the public transit trek into the city: about 90 min on the train/subway. On the ride in, I was reminded by the weary looks on everybody’s faces about life– the drudgery of the day in and day out.

I arrived at the hotel early, like before 10a. I figured, I would just drop off my shit at the front desk and then explore. Well, I was plesantly surprised, bc they gave me a room that early. HIE is an old standard for us: affordable and clean. Sometimes a step up, but usually basic. After unpacking and such, I headed out. I went south to the WTC, got lost a gabillion times, took in some interesting odors throughout. It’s nice to be in a bustling place.

I had searched for pizza for lunch, but apparently, the Financial District was not the spot. Then, I had trouble getting my way OUT of Fidi, so I ended up eating lunch at a Thai place near the hotel. Phenomenal. And bc I was so damn hungry, I ordered a papaya salad AFTER my noodles. I asked for medium, and holy shit. Let’s just say, I was blowing my nose like crazy and my mouth, lips, everything burned so badly, I got a bumpy on my lip. This is how you do the Kylie Jenner lips. Holy. fuck. Note to self: medium is super spicy.

After that, I headed back to my room to rest. At 5, I went out to Times Square to get same-day tickets for Fun Home, a drama on Broadway. So good. I mean, heavy shit about family dysfunction and what happens when you deny your true identify to be what other people expect you to be… it was sad, poignant, and yet had really great moments of humor. Broadway, man. That is some real caliber acting. Fuck, man. And the play: it was a capsule of life, with all its complexities– some of it perhaps artificially created and exacerbated by our own shit choices.

On my walk home, I thought about how most people really do have good intentions. But there are demons, sicknesses. I think about people whose actions I judge. Celebrities and ordinary people. It’s easy for me to say, people should be accountable for their decisions. But did I grow up with a father who was a drug addict? Was I physically abused as a child? Did I witness domestic violence? I have led a very sheltered and sanitzied life that in many ways, gave me more choices or perhaps choices offering more freedom than others. I think about how my shitty job has made me cranky or angry or rebellious. In so many ways, I have been acting out bc I’m unhappy about my job and perhaps about where I am in my life. My circumstance is simply a shitty job. Let’s be real: there are worse jobs out there. I’ve HAD worse jobs. I guess the play yesterday somehow reminded me that in spite of my latest “woes,” I really am so damn lucky. Sure, I can want better, but I need to get my head out of my fucking ass. Not that I am completely dismissing my issues, but there are some real, serious,heavy problems out there in the world. I need to get some goddamn perspective, for fuck’s sake.

Shutting Down

Is it just me, or do other people fantasize about going “Office Space” at their workplace? I swear to god, that is my biggest life fantasy: just going into the office one day, flipping the desk over, and saying, “I’m out.” I’m telling you, this defiance inside me runs so damn deep! It’s always interesting, bc while I was always very law-abiding and rule-following as a kid in school or as an adult in the workplace, at home, I was consistently an unruly fucking mess. I was always talking back and cussing at my parents and grandparents. Dad would punish me by whipping me with a leather belt, and I still refused to shut the fuck up. I suppose few things have changed as an adult. At home, I call J out on his shit in ways that fall more on the radical honesty/blunt side rather than the high EQ side. I dunno: I guess I have issues with authority? Or I just don’t like being told what to do.

Needless to say, this past week was super rough at work. Not only was my bud K out of the office attending a conference (er, frolicking in the plantations of New Orleans with her beau), but it just seemed like more of the same. Daily drama and crisis management for nothing that is truly of importance. The AVP was in for a few days, out the rest. No one knows her schedule. Meanwhile, the anxiety and neurosis of my boss just keeps building. I’m so over this bullshit. At work, I was starting to get that bubbling rage feeling again, where every little thing just ticks me off. Bubbey had to have multiple talks with me throughout the week about losing sight of my self-care and allowing myself to fall into this awful zone. I know better. I have been through this drill before, and yet, mentally I just keep running around in circles. I remember once when my friend M shared a story: she hated her job and every day, the anxiety and unhappiness just kept getting worse and worse. Finally, one day her father told her not to worry so much. He would help her if things got bad. And just like that, knowing she had an out gave her comfort.

I know I have an out. Our house in Reston in under contract, and so far, it’s on track to close on November 5. But again, I’ve always struggled with my privilege. And to think that my parents will stress and judge and I dunno: it’s just a ton of baggage. That’s the confusing thing about me. I have a track record of doing what I want, of not aligning exactly with my parents, and yet their disappointment still gets to me. In some fucked up way, their approval matters. Ugh. Almost 40 and still dealing with this kind of bullshit. Frustrates the life out of me. I want to be courageous, and yet I never feel I’m quite ready.

I was on the phone with my father today. The misery continues, and my mother is also struggling with the daily care of my grandparents in Taiwan. I don’t know why they don’t hire help. It’s as if they insist on the struggle even if they have the resources to ease the burden. Sound familiar? God, I CANNOT turn into my parents. If there is a single fucking life lesson that I learn, it has to be leaving behind the Chinese cultural obsession with hardship and struggle.  Last week after seeing me in my state, J talked to me about leaving. I felt some relief possibly similar to my friend when her father showed her an out. And then, I imagined going to Taiwan in November and again being subjected to all the usual crap: my unnaturalness for not bearing children, my unreasonable intolerance for authority both at home and at work, my defiance and direct role in making my parents unhappy, blah, blah, blah.

Interestingly, I  had a conversation with my boss this past week. She’s an immigrant, and she made some comment like, if parents say something you disagree with, just ignore what they say. My father has said this multiple times: just listen and then do what you want. If ONLY if were that easy. Instead, why don’t you (the parent) just not voice your concern and stop judging the decisions of your adult child? I’ve never really considered myself to be prone to guilt, but I’m realizing that I am prone to accountability and responsibility and so indirectly, that makes me susceptible to guilt with my family.

Well I suppose the good news is that, I came down from the ledge. Every now and then, flexing whatever minimal bit of tolerance/patience I have is probably a good exercise. Tomorrow, another week begins. J has advised that I not take my work so seriously. I know I hate it; I don’t want to continue in this vein of social media, so step back. Again, not easy bc I’m a fucking obsessive maniac. But I’ll try again tomorrow. And then in the evening, I’m hopping on the red-eye to NYC. Honestly, I’m not that stoked about the conference (bad attitude and all), but I am excited to be out of the office. I reached out to a childhood friend who I thought was living in NYC, but no reply. She’s always been super flaky. Too bad. Then again, J reminded me that you just never know what challenges other people are facing. Sometimes, there’s a lot of shame. Uh, tell me about it! Oh well, it’ll be great to reconnect with my college bud J up in Boston after the conference and through the weekend. Incidentally, my father warned me tonight not leave the hotel room after dark. He’s been watching Law and Order. Jesus Christ. I’m hoping to catch a theater show one of the evenings though. I haven’t been to the theater in so fucking long, and I think it’ll be good for me.

Filial Piety

Fuck man, I am on a short fuse again these days. Every week, I’m being asked to prepare status updates plus participate in department brainstorming sessions. It’s not that I’m opposed to trying new things; rather, I’m opposed to adopting new procedures that aren’t clearly explained. Seriously, we’ve had maybe 5 of these brainstorming dumps, and every single time, the same issues come up: once we come up with the ideas, where are they expected to go and who is responsible for crafting the info into stories. Every week people express confusion, and yet another week passes with no further explanation.

As for my status updates, if it were just a list of things I accomplished or projects I’m working on, no big deal. But we’re specifically asked what items weren’t done, for whom, and why. What things do you need help with? What barriers are holding you back? Ok, if you’re going to ask me and I’m going to give you feedback, please be prepared to DO SOMETHING with the feedback; otherwise, don’t bother me with these additional tasks that offer zero follow through.

Today, my team had a meeting. Even before all the recent office drama, the women on my team have very strong attitudes. Typically, I consider that a good thing, but ugh. Something about the way these ladies communicate: it really rubs me the wrong way. Meanwhile, the boss keeps acting like what minimal info she shares with us is super confidential. Puhlease. Stop telling me to keep everything secret. You aren’t sharing info of value anyway. Seriously, come back when you actually have substantive details rather than bullshit fluff.

Some days, I really struggle with this place and the people. On the surface, strong women. Check. Supportive boss. Check. But fuck man, you scratch just a mil below and shit, I do not like what I see. Of course, this whole time Bubbey has been warning me about my track record– my history of abruptly losing respect or interest or motivation at a job after “leadership” disappoints me. Yes, what can I say, I thrive on the human connection: it inspires and motivates me. I understand that people are flawed and imperfect, but I suppose at the core, I need to feel like the people are good in their hearts and they have character and integrity. I think the people have major chips on their shoulders, and then on top of that, they have insecurities that make them super obsessed about getting credit and recognition for their “expertise.” It really is such a bunch of self-aggrandizing crap.

Another one of my frustrations is that my boss regularly triggers an automatic, defiant response bc she behaves in a manner that reminds me a lot of my parents, with their paranoid “everyone is out to get you” mentality. The stance of being territorial and competitive and not collaborative is super negative and exhausting. Obviously, I’m not exactly a ray of sunshine myself. I know I have my own bad attitude, but shit, I’m selective where I apply it. Across campus,  I’m still open to working together, and honestly, even though I define myself very strongly by my work, I don’t feel super compelled to receive recognition or credit or hype bc frankly, there is no concrete reward. So person A thinking I’m a rockstar doesn’t really do much for me right now bc 1) I really don’t care about my current work, meaning it’s not something that gives me pride 2) Show me the money. Seriously. Talk is cheap. Do better.

Interestingly, when the new AVP holds department meetings, she’s all about going around the room afterwards, asking people to share their feelings. While I was initially impressed with this approach, I quickly realized that it’s just lip service. Opening up and sharing your qualms only reveals a vulnerability. There is no action taken to mitigate your concerns. In fact, when my boss called a team meeting this morning, she did the same thing, soliciting our thoughts. I expressed again my frustration with being told to do this and that on some kind of urgent timeline and then receiving zero feedback. Granted, it’s not as if my boss has any more insight into what the fuck is going on, but basically, she told me, “Learn to be comfortable with uncertainty.” Are you joking me? What kind of leniency or patience would the organization ever afford its staff? Fuck. Off. I already do a lot with my self-desensitization programs. This is not a goddamn personal or professional development exercise for me. Either take your big shit or get off the pot, as my friend T likes to say. I mean, my boss asked us to give it six months so we could determine our paths on our own timeline. Well, my timeline is way more accelerated than six months. I have seen a lot in 2015, and I want to have better reasons for how/where I’m spending my time.

Speaking of which, I recently booked my tickets for Taiwan in November. Few people understand this, but going to Taiwan is not a vacation by any stretch of the imagination. And now bc of the whole housing debacle with my maternal grandparents, my mom and her parents are in Taiwan while my father is back in Maryland. Dad insists he’s fine and independent and self-sufficient (sound familiar?) but fuck man, he doesn’t have a NuWave or pressure cooker! I was hemming and hawing about Taiwan, and then thinking about the age of my grandparents, I decided I had to go sooner than later. Of course I called my mother over the weekend, and we talked about my grandparents’ townhouse in MD that is still on hold bc grandpa and grandma can’t agree on next steps. My mother frustrates me to no end, bc she’s just not rational. She seriously knows NOTHING about real estate, and yet she spews all this nonsensical garbage as if she knows more than the realtor or myself– and I’ve actually been handling our townhouse rental (and now it’s pending sale). Ugh. I just get into a rage trying to communicate with someone who is so utterly clueless! I felt myself getting really pissy on the phone, and as soon as I got off the phone, I was kicking myself for scheduling 7 days overseas. Way too damn long to be in the presence of idiocy. I know it’s not nice or classy or whatever to talk shit about your mother. What can I say: radical honesty is a beotch and a half. Plus, I’m not going to feign a good relationship where there is none. Fuck that shit. This ain’t the Brady Bunch.

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.