Recalibrating

So Bubbey and S returned last Tuesday from their visit with the parentals, and without skipping a beat, both were back to work on Thursday. Back to the grind. J started his new gig at a startup run by a former colleague of his. The commute to SF is LONG. He’s still trying got figure out the train schedule, but yeah no wifi and shoddy cell signal is a pain in the ass. The good news is that he’s been able to score a seat for the 45-55 min journey and also squeeze in those daily Fitbit steps walking to/from the station. He also happens to be on a crazy early shift, waking up around 6 to drink his coffee, walk/feed the dog, and then catch the 7:30 train. I’m enjoying having him back, not only for the companionship but also bc now I can return to sleeping in while he handles doggie duty and kitchen chores. Meanwhile, Marty has been doing amazeballs. Even the neighbors have commented about his rejuvenation and extra spunk. He bounced back to a level way better than we ever expected! Hurray for Marty Man!

On Saturday K and her beau D came over with their little man JC (doggie). I’m not gonna lie: usually when we cook for others, we do our go-to dishes: BBQ, burgers, steak salad, pork chops, duck… But my bud K (bless her heart, as the Jezzies would say) doesn’t eat beef or pork or a variety of other foods. I know she’s always courteous (ahem, thanks to charm school) and flexible as a guest, but still, I didn’t want to make a misstep on dinner. In the end, I tried a NuWave pecan-crusted chicken tenders recipe. The verdict? Eh, so so. All right for a first time, but not our usual “out of the park” hit. She and D were totally gracious and I think among all of us, it was mostly consumed. But, you know Bubbey: he’s got the highest standards out of everybody. He made a face and shrugged. Not enough seasoning. Sigh. Note for next time.

Beyond chowing down, we had a great time. K and I are like sisters, chatting up a storm, talking about our various beefs with the Jezzies as well as my parenting phobia (I now call J&J’s baby boy my “rejected godchild”). Hey man, I think my next website will have to be “Child Free or Die.” Get it? Like the New Hampshire license plate tagline: “Live Free or Die”? Afterwards, K insisted on doing the dishes. Homegirl is super sweet, but shit, she was running my water like a drought newb, AND she used my sink cleaning brush to scrub the dishes. Hahaha. I didn’t say anything at the time bc well, I think it would have grossed her out. I don’t really mind: after all, I have a different standard for cleanliness. Plus, I’m a very strong organism. It was nice to have stuff loaded into the dishwasher, I gotta say. Little JC was super cute!! Usually, I’m not a big fan of the mini dogs, but he’s very well-behaved and not barky at all. He and Marty tolerated each other, which means that Marty conked out the whole time they were over. You know how the oldies roll.

On Sunday, we had plans to see J&J in San Leandro. But baby was sick for like the fifth week in a row and J was coming down with something too. I swear to god, how do parents do this?? No sleep, perpetual sickness, and then still the demands at work!! I ended up sleeping most of the day. The day prior had been a great day filled with friends and laughter, but somehow Sunday was quickly overtaken with the dread of heading back to my shit job on Monday. Oh well, if anything, my body soaked up that extra sleep. People say your sleep deficit can never fully be made up, but whatever. It felt good. I am starting back up listening to Meditation Oasis. Usually, I’m not even paying attention to the words anymore, but something about listening to Mary Maddux’s voice calms me. I’m hoping all of these things are indicative of some kind of re calibration. I need to get back to normalcy.

Being Useful

As an ESTJ, one of my top values is usefulness. That applies to things and to people. While J and S were back East visiting with the parentals, I tried to get myself back on track (with my life). I cleaned and went through my stockpile of old elecronics. Originally, the plan was to just trade in the items via some device buyback program, but then I reviewed the numbers and holy crap: selling on Ebay yielded significantly more money. So yes, I found myself jumping thorough all the pain-in-the-ass hoops, taking various pictures and figuring out shipping and cleaning shit up to be as pristine as possible. I like earning those Bubbey bucks, but fuck man, Ebay is not a very streamlined process. After selling three devices, I might need a break. Haha. I mean, I’m thrilled to find new homes for my old things, but dealing with shipping is a royal pain. When the hell did postage rates get so damn pricey??

My friend J recently retired and bought herself a new laptop and printer. She’s an older lady, about the age of my father, and she spent hours with Geek Squad setting up the new printer. They got it working, and then weeks later, the printer started giving her an offline error. She was all ready to go through the Geek Squad fiasco all over again until I offered to help her. I have done a lot of IT/tech support in my day. Back when I worked for the feminist org, I was always canabalizing our old computers so we could stretch that shitty hardware just a little bit farther. Then with my dad… well, you know the drill there. So I went over to her house thinking I would just crank out the solution in a matter of minutes. Well, I got stumped, and two hours later, I was still trying to get that shit sorted. Finally, I got it working. Basically, I kept trying to connect the printer to her old wifi network. Once I realized she was actually using a new network, we got her back in business. She was so cute though: so thrilled to have the tech help. I always thought her son-in-law who lives in Los Altos was a tech guy. Why hadn’t he helped her with this? That made me sad: that she would have someone who could help her but she either didn’t want to bother him with a request, or he didn’t make time to help her. J is such a fun and sassy lady though. While I was over, she showed me her latest gardening and home projects. It’s so nice to find an older person with hobbies and a social life! She also admired my new purse, and guess what: She ended up ordering the same one in a different color. Haha!

After my hangout with J, I headed north to spend the afternoon with M. I gave M my old Kindle, and she was thrilled. One of the cool things about M is that she is a hardcore researcher. She researches everything and anything under the sun: high end toaster ovens, car care, tax laws, everything. And we commiserate over stories about our unresourceful siblings. Goddamn, some people just really don’t give two fucks about understanding how things work. After we talked all that smack, we had lunch and hit the mall. Can’t go wrong with H&M! We had a great time! On the drive home, I had this realization about how I’d let my depression about the job really overtake so many other aspects of my life. Like I had stopped having people over for dinner, stopped biking/skating/walking, stopped hosting Craft Club… I enjoy doing things with others, and yet somehow I’d forgotten. Damn job: I let it change me and def not for the better. Fucking buzzkill of the century.

Retail Therapy

I’ve always had a slightly twisted relationship with money. Being the child of immigrants, with both of my parents supporting their families back home, I really witnessed first-hand an extreme emphasis and focus on money throughout my life. My father in particular, had such a hunger and survivalist drive. Then again, I suppose when you have a brother with a gambling/high risk business/debt problem and a sister contemplating prostitution to pay back family debts, I suppose earning money isn’t just some silly game about buying fancy cars or nice clothes.

My strongest money habits center around being frugal (sales, coupons, negotiations, etc.) and saving. I remember though, that I’ve never wanted to be beholden to money. Like at times, I felt my mother got overly conservative and paranoid about money. She seemed to me rather stingy and unable to let loose and enjoy small things that money could afford her. For example, whenever she and my father went on cruises to far destinations across the world, she never wanted to spend money on excursions or extra tours. It was almost as if she wanted to arrive and then do absolutely nothing that would cost money.

As I near 40, I see hints of both parents in my spending habits. Like my father, I splurge on things I use daily or things that are tied to professional development or health: technology, classes/conferences, a nice elliptical machine for my parents. I also like to spend on travel and experiences. I spend but I also try not to be extravagant or wasteful or overly indulgent. I remember once I got so upset at J, bc he was buying all kinds of items that felt excessive: a nice fancy leather-bound notebook or laptop case or yet another device or yet another fancy, handcrafted stationery item… For me, I think the environmental engineering side stresses about unused, older, replaced items suddenly being rendered obsolete and going into the landfill. But J once explained to me that for him, every new item represents his hope to live life differently, to reignite his curiosity/creativity, to try and feel more inspired or more motivated. If it costs $200 to have him feel joy or energy again, that’s a small price to pay. I mean, on one hand, from a cynic’s perspective, isn’t this the ultimate indoctrination of advertising/marketing? And yet, I felt sorry that in some way my warnings or criticisms came across as attempts to squelch or stem his opportunities for joy. Ugh. He works really hard, and if these purchases don’t force us to sacrifice security or our lifestyle, I need to chill the fuck out. You see, I inherited this kind of unease/irrational austerity from my mother. For the most part, Bubbey buys what he wants when he wants. On the back end, I then “rebalance” the expenses by purging unused items in the house, either posting things on Freecycle or selling shit on Ebay. Bubbey calls my modest earnings from these resales “Bubbey Bucks.” It’s a mild form of regaining control I think. I’m always playing mental games on myself.

So a couple weeks ago, I was sitting on the couch in an almost catatonic state, home alone, pissed about work and flipping through the channels. I came across QVC. I’d never really been a fan of shopping channels, but on occasion, I sometimes got sucked in by the makeup/skincare demos. On this particular night, I just started wondering about the sellers’ personalities. How are they getting people to tune in, you know? I mean, some audiences tune in to watch specific hosts. What a weird but intriguing thing. So the segment for the hour was Dooney & Bourke purses. I didn’t like any of the selections, but I was curious enough to go online and browse the rest of the collection. Long story short, I came across Oryany purses, and their company spokeswoman. She’s this beautiful petite (and pregnant) brunette, and somehow she made all the bags look good. I thought it was interesting too how she and the host played off of each other– they managed to squeeze in all the product descriptions and details plus answer audience calls in the allotted time. This rep had apparently been with the company for 14 years and Oryany even designed a bag named after her! I started thinking: wow, what a fun job it must be to design purses: learning about fabrics, materials, features, accessories. Sigh. I wish I had a fun job.

For the next couple of hours, I researched Oryany bags, watching all the YouTube videos for each model. By the end, I finally whittled things down to two bags. I put them into the shopping cart and then left. I do that sometimes: I put shit into online carts and sometimes I never return. It’s like that Amazon Wish list maybe? I don’t really know the psychology behind it all. A few days later, I told John I was thinking about a new purse, but it was pricier than my usual range. It took another several days before I finally pressed Buy. Sometimes buying things for myself just feels weird: unjustified and ridiculously self-indulgent. The new bag arrived last week. It’s nicely designed with the construction and compartments. I don’t absolutely love the color, but it’s a practical neutral tone. One day soon maybe I will cut off the tags and keep the damn thing. Haha.

A couple days after my purse splurge, J was flipping through the channels and once again, we found ourselves on QVC. Fuck, really? Well, the segment was on the NuWave Pro Plus oven! Of course, I was instantly sucked in to the demos of all the different things you could cook with the NuWave. I was reminded of all the successful meals I had had with that thing. Then the host announced that NuWave was the day’s special value. Fuck man. $90 for the Pro Plus with an extender ring and a bunch of extras! J said we should get it, but the pragmatic side of me reasoned: it’s a redundant appliance; it takes up so much counter space; I need to just learn to make things in the new range! Then Bubbey said: do you remember how much joy the NuWave brought you? You loved that thing! You’ve tried to make all your dishes in the new range, but stuff never comes out as good. I think mostly he was talking about my Beijing duck. He said, it’s only $90. If that helps you get out of your funk and regain your confidence with cooking again, isn’t that money well spent? I thought back to what Bubbey had explained to me long ago. Consumerism is an opportunity to change a life trajectory: it’s a shot at joy. Fine, the marketers win this time.

My NuWave arrived earlier this week. And the very next night, my inaugural dish was the Morton’s tri-tip roast. I had never actually made this dish in the NuWave before (we usually use the oven): I was concerned about fucking it up with tweaked settings, but I took a stab: I cut up potatoes and carrots, placed the roast on top fat side up, and pressed Cook Time –> 55 –> Start. Fuck man, the meat came out perfect. Then I made rice in my pressure cooker. Seriously, between the pressure cooker and NuWave, I am back in business! My bud T came over for dinner, and for the first time in a very long while, I felt accomplished and successful. Finally, I kicked ass at something.

Dreamforce

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

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

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

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

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

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

Losing my Shit, Losing my Mind

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s Next?

I was thankful to have the long holiday weekend to spend some time re-calibrating. Of course, I’m still a fucking mental mess, but baby steps, right?

We visited with S on Saturday, and then in the evening, J and I went to our first ever pro soccer game. In July, I had won Earthquakes tickets (club level, row 2!!) from a raffle at work. We were so psyched to have this new experience and to check out Avaya Stadium. Unfortunately, we were super drained by the time the game rolled around Saturday night, and even though we tried really hard to get out and distract ourselves, it only partially did the trick. We were kinda underwhelmed: the stadium itself was much smaller than I had expected, and then the game was low scoring (2-1). We surveyed the world’s longest bar at the stadium, but eh. Then again, if we’re honest, we’re viewing the world through some shit-colored lenses these days.

As soon as I returned to the office on Tuesday, there was some serious drama. The head of our department announced his departure… for the very next day. WTF??? I mean sure, an organizational consultant was brought in last July to evaluate our ecosystem and produce a report with recommendations… Most of us suspected big changes were afoot, but still. One day of notice for the department was super abrupt. Consequently, it threw the entire office into a tizzy. Meanwhile, my direct supervisor was out on vacation all week… the news only exacerbated her already neurotic and anxious state.

On Thursday morning, we were introduced to the new interim AVP– none other than the consultant who was brought in to evaluate us!! That part definitely raises red flags for me, but at the same time, she also put together a pretty solid presentation pointing out our current status and weaknesses with a phased plan to move us to a better place. So while I’m skeptical, I’m also curious to see what improvements can be done.

Still, the ongoing problem for me remains multi-fold: 1) I don’t enjoy my current role 2) I don’t know what role I would want next or how I would want to contribute in the existing setting 3) I feel rather unmoved by the content, the institution, and the culture. With a few tweaks, is it possible that my attitude could change? I just don’t know, and certainly the recent life events make me feel more strongly than ever that I don’t want to waste anymore time with my life. I mean, I was already impatient as fuck, and now my tolerance is a gabillion times lower!

My poor friend K. She’s like my onsite therapist. I’m really trying not to be a fucking broken record. Thankfully, the interim AVP got a really good, strong read from her initial interview with K, and I think she has big plans for my bud, which of course, would be awesome. Even if I’m a misfit for this place and sometimes for this world, I always want to see people thrive and flourish. This big shakeup has the potential to offer some really promising opportunities… Do I want to be around to witness all those big changes firsthand? I can’t say. I just feel so burned out and run down.

Meanwhile, J has been talking to various startup CEOs. Looks like October is going to be his back-to-work month. The primary opp he’s negotiating is in SF. I have a lot of qualms about him resuming work at yet another startup and so far away in SF, but J is confident about his choice and decision, so what can I do but acquiesce and hope for the best.

On the family side of things, my parents and grandparents flew out to Taiwan this week. I’m hoping in the next few months that my grandparents will come around and embrace living in Asia. Maybe I’m being selfish, but Jesus Christ, that would seriously be the easiest and most sensible decision for all involved. As for my in-laws, J and S are heading back East at the end of this month to visit. Many decisions still need to be made regarding their home, their vehicles, health care directives, etc.

What else. Oh, Bubs partially tore his calf today. All week his calf had been sensitive and bothering him, then this afternoon, he got up from his desk at home to answer the doorbell and SNAP! He tore his muscle. WTF? I left work early to take him to the doctor. Yup, crutches, ibuprofen, and up to six weeks for recovery. Ugh!!! The RV Fair in Sacramento is thwarted.

Gone in a Flash

Sorry for the long silence. Life took a terrible, tragic turn, and I am still struggling to get back on even footing. Just over a week ago, we had a death in the family. J’s sister S and her beau were in LA for a wedding. After the ceremony and reception, she retired to their hotel room, and he went to buy a pack of smokes. He never returned. He was hit by a car and died at the scene.

The days since have been mentally, emotionally, and physically draining. I’m immeasurably thankful that her oldest sister E flew out for a week. Somehow, E had all the right words and actions. J and I have driven to SF to see S everyday. Her emotions come in waves, but day by day, she appears considerably stronger. Honestly, I am in awe of S’s mental toughness. Despite the tragedy and trauma, she remains free of anger and resentment, and her perspective is unshakable.

As I’ve learned more about M over the past week, from family and friends to work and love, the abruptness of his death is sadly less surprising though still utterly heartbreaking. What can I say: he was one-of-a-kind. He had the physique of a Greek god: towering in strength and invincibility. His heart was warm, gentle, and kind. He loved and was loved. But in this world, love is rarely enough.

I am still figuring out how to share this tragic news with my friends. Some contacted me in the last week for other random matters, and somehow the information was easier to convey as a reply. But it feels strange to initiate contact and then delve right into such awful news. I have been feeling really overwhelmed and exhausted. M and S are extroverts, and I think being surrounded by so many people is helpful for her as she grieves. For me, meeting all these people seems only to compound the shock of the news, and I often want to just lie in bed with my thoughts and emotions. But I know it’s important to be with S. M would’ve wanted everyone everywhere to show up to his party.

I went back to work on Wednesday. I was in a daze going through the motions at a job that already feels trivial and meaningless. Thank fucking goodness for my friend K. I had a few meltdowns at the office and then later at home, and she’s been incredibly insightful helping me to understand the complexity in all of this, also reminding me how best to support S. I’m glad we had the long holiday weekend to process things a bit more. Yesterday, we joined S and a few of her friends on a short hike at Mori Point in Pacifica. I’d never gone there before: it was a beautiful breezy day. We drove past Puerto 27 and Sea Bowl, where just a few weeks prior we had celebrated S’s bday with M and my friend P. God, it seemed only days ago when M told me he was born with four fingers on each hand, and doctors gave him thumbs by taking his big toes. Yes, I fell for it, bc I’m a gullible dumbass. But seriously, how could life and fate take such a sudden, dramatic turn?

Ok, I’m slowing down now. Calling it a night and then back to my job tomorrow. I am trying to find joy again, even though that’s a hard thing for a pessimist/realist like me to do. I know M would want that for us and most importantly for S. Stay safe and take care. Life is so very precious.

mo

Drawing the Line

The last few times I spoke with my parents, our phone conversations ran way long. Like an hour plus. I had decided several weeks ago to stop worrying about my parents-grandparents’ situation, and after hearing that my grandparents agreed to sell their Maryland townhouse and move back to Taiwan, I was starting to feel more settled. Then two weeks ago, their house– which had finished an entire renovation– was supposed to hit the market. I searched for it on Zillow. Nothing. A few days later, I called my father to get the scoop, and holy shit, my grandparents had completely backtracked. And my mother, of all fucking people– was back in their corner supporting this fantastical idea that my grandparents would move back into their townhouse and live independently again. I fucking flipped out. I mean, my father has done EVERYTHING from clearing out their junk to going through the papers to coordinating with the realtor and contractors to fixing up the patio and the backyard… Homeboy is 70 y/o and not in great physical shape. I was livid, bc this is absolutely the WRONG decision. Apparently my grandparents came up with a gabillion excuses to NOT list the house (listing price was too low, construction costs were too high, etc.). Meanwhile, their neighbor friend (who drove grandpa to the hospital after his fall) is planting all kinds of seeds, pushing them to stay. So I talked with mom about this fantasy scenario. Look, Dad is moving back to Taiwan permanently in the next year or two. If the grandparents want to stay in Maryland, mom will have to stay with them BUT she is pretty weak and fragile herself, and she cannot drive. Not to mention that she is overall pretty damn helpless and unresourceful. Just telling it straight. So how will they buy groceries, drive to/from the doctor, pick up meds; who’s going to help them shower and go up and down the stairs… No thought whatsoever has gone into this. Why are they even fighting this? My grandparents speak the language in Taiwan. Labor is cheap. There is affordable housing, meds, and services. No brainer. I told my father that he has done everything, and if they are going to forge yet another path, they are on their own. Fuck it. Go do your pipe dream on your own!

Except that my father has a very different value system and cultural identity than I do. My suggestion? Let them try to figure it all out on their own. They’ll quickly realize they don’t have the capacity, and then they will have no choice but to move to Taiwan. I know, sounds harsh, but you know what? Tough shit. YOUR way does not work. Needless to say, dad’s not keen on my tough love approach. Rather, he will honor their decision and do whatever is in his power to help them execute Plan B.

Can you see now how much my family fucking enables bullshit behavior?? Yes, my brother totally comes to mind. Lame. My mother tries to explain that there are other fears at play: her parents are from China. I’s weird to live in Taiwan. Um yeah, except that they probably spent more years in Taiwan than in China. Yes, change is hard, but it’s not impossible. I admit, I have trouble feeling compassion and empathy here, bc if your choices didn’t impact other people, fine. Do as you please. But if you start drastically mucking up other people’s lives, there’s a problem. I feel like my father has done a lot for my maternal grandparents, but hello, his own father is still alive, and he wants to go back to spend what little time is left with his father in his home country. I’m pretty pissed that my mother and her parents are very much thwarting that process. It feels pretty damn selfish and inconsiderate, and clearly, I have a lot of anger about it.

My father told me that he won’t handle things the way I suggest. He understands that I’m upset: he’s certainly frustrated and disappointed, but this is not my problem to handle. Still, I’m supremely annoyed with my mother, bc once again, this is another example of how useless and unhelpful she can be. She doesn’t solve problems: she only creates them. I get that she wants to honor the wishes of her parents. But look, the three of them can’t get shit done, so unless they figure out how to help themselves, don’t be making impossible, unreasonable demands on other people. Fucking A. Yes, I’m falling now into my family’s MO of playing the blame game. What can I say, accountability is real. At some point, the decisionmaking just has to be handed over. Just like parents made all the decisions for the children; the adult children have to make the decisions for the elderly. It just is what it is.

I wonder if my parents witnessing my impatience and frustration makes them fearful of old age. I’m sure my reactions to the current situation give them a pretty raw glimpse of what’s in store when I am they and they are my grandparents. It ain’t gonna be pretty, bc I’m intending to grab the bull by the horns.  They raised me to be a thinker and doer. I am not afraid to make the tough calls.

Not Seeing Eye to Eye

It’s really hard to find people who have the same take as I do on relationships. For example, while P was visiting, she was telling me about some classmate in her circle of nursing friends who, on hearing about her breakup, started coming on really strong. He was texting her all the time and asking her about bday plans and asking her out to dinner. The impression was that he was pursuing her. I mean, given that this happens to P all the time, it’s a pretty safe assumption. So, her take is that she’s not interested; however rather than just telling him in a straight-up, direct way, she instead responds to his texts and invites in generic terms. Like if he asks her to dinner, she’ll say, “Yeah, let’s all go out.” Her argument is that bc she will have to see him at group activities and gatherings, there’s no need to tell him directly that she’s not interested. Rather, by replying obliquely and just not really allowing for any alone time together, he will get the hint and also save face.

Obviously, as a proponent of radical honesty, this approach feels unnecessarily complicated and confusing to me. Personally, I feel there is a nice way to decline and reject. And even if the rejection weren’t super soft, hello, this is life. Toughen up. Also, yes, they are all adults now. If a lady says she’s not interested and you share the same set of friends, are you really going to make it awkward? Respect her decision and move on! It’s not that they are super close friends and her disinterest in a romantic thing would be particularly hurtful, right? Frankly, he can’t be all that invested. I dunno. I really don’t see what the big deal is, and further, his texts are getting to be a bit much! That said, I value efficiency and honesty, so her actions feel like a disservice to him. Ultimately though, not my call and probably, NO ONE agrees with me. Whatever.

In other news, I’ve been coming up on some more bullshit at work. That lady T? OMFG. She is one of THE biggest slackers ever. She’ll make personal calls at work and leave her fucking door wide open. Look lady, everyone has to take care of some personal business during work hours, but you don’t need to be so goddamn blatant about it. I don’t need to hear you calling about piano lessons for your daughter or negotiating discounts on your cable bill. Not only that, after she’s done her loud, obnoxious calls, she pretty much goes office to office, plopping herself down in people’s rooms to complain about 1) how little work she has 2) how unmotivated she feels 3) how she wants to go home early. Jesus Christ. Unlike you, I actually have work to do, so um, scurry along and bitch to someone else. It’s kind of weird, bc during her interview process, I was not that impressed. Then, she started and was pretty chatty and nice. I thought maybe there was potential. The next thing I know, she’s wanting to organize parties and get togethers and spousal meetings and … coming on way strong. But even those things didn’t drive me over the edge. It was really the shitty work ethic and the constant barging in on my meetings and conversations. Now, add the constant need for validation and support from others. Last week? She had issue with what my intern wore to work. We don’t have a dress code, and it’s the middle of summer. My intern dresses the way I see college girls dress, i.e. butt shorts. I agree that I wouldn’t personally wear them, but you know what? I’m middle-aged and kinda a prude. So whatever. T goes to my manager to comment about the shorts; she then goes to the office manager and finally, she hits up a third person in the office. After all that gossip, she gchats me that “several people in the office have an issue with my intern’s attire.” Back and forth, she won’t say who has issue with it other than her. She is “offended.” She was planning to take this matter up with the Assistant VP (my boss’ boss), but she wanted to discuss with me first since it’s my intern. I give push back. There is no dress code. She is a college student coming in for a couple hours in the middle of the day. This is not a REAL job, and her role is NOT public facing. A few minutes later, my boss comes in to discuss with me. I give pushback again. My boss makes some confusing statements saying that she doesn’t care, but then she suggests that I consider this a “professional dev” opportunity to talk with my intern. I’m like, “It’s not an issue for me. If you are bothered by it, YOU are welcome to talk to her…” Back and forth and then she backs down. “She’s your intern. If you don’t have issue with it, then that’s fine with me. We have bigger fish to fry.” I relay the decision to T.  Later that day, it turns out T had gone back to the office manager and commented in a testy tone, “Well Vicky said it’s not an issue, so I guess that’s that.” Then, she proceeded to criticize the office manager for not having her back and for “complaining about things without taking action.” 

Jesus fucking Christ. Who is this person? Is she a child, bc she sure as hell does not handle situations like a mature adult. In the end, after consulting with several people, I decided that I didn’t want blabbermouth talking shit about my intern every time she came in wearing something T found offensive. So I talked with my intern, who received the feedback without issue. Done. I mean, seriously though. Why are you trying to discredit a really good, hardworking intern? Fuck off. My intern probably works harder than you do!

And of course, being the defiant person that I am, on Friday I made sure to wear a super body-hugging, short dress to work. Well, tight by my standards anyway. K pretty much found the entire outfit plus the strappy sandals work-inappropriate. But fuck man, I just wanted to see if T had the gall to say something to me. The combative side of me dared her to even try… Ah well, as the universe would have it, Friday was a peaceful day. She probably didn’t even notice bc holy shit, she was actually busy with work getting media coverage for an activity on campus. One of these days though: she’s gonna complain to my face, and I will fucking unleash the Kracken!

Life Choices

I’ve been thinking a TON lately about choices. Last week, I lamented to my friend G about how throughout my life, I’ve been so adamant and insistent about “choosing my own path” and about doing things my way (rather than the way my parents wanted): from not studying biology/premed to not becoming a doctor to changing careers to not having kids… I made all these decisions with confidence, declaring that “I know myself best.” Yet decades later, am I any happier than say, Mr. Joe Schmoe who followed a straightforward path, didn’t overthink or ask questions, took a job/career (maybe a mindnumbing one), and just stayed locked in? I guess I’ve been feeling sorry for myself: after all this constant hustle, making atypical choices regarding my career and beyond, in the end, I’m still dissatisfied with life. WTF?!?

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not regretting the kid thing, but shit, if I’m going to be an eternal malcontent, why even bother putting so much thought into everything? In some way, I acknowledge that my parents are paying a price for my choices. I’m well aware that my decision to be child-free has contributed to their unhappiness. So on top of having that on my conscience, I can’t even say that I’m living a happy, fulfilled life. I dunno. Maybe I’m just feeling fatigued, and life is beating me down. The good news? I still have some perspective. I know I live a blessed life, and no matter what, I have a lot to be thankful for. 

John and I are celebrating 19 years together. Not to sound all Nicholas Sparks or whatever, but hands down, he’s THE best decision of my life– worth every bit of the defiance and fam drama and even our own ups and downs. That said, fuck man, I made my best call when I was 20 years old???? I sure as hell hope there are plenty more “best decisions” coming outta me in my elderly years.