Brian and Bursted Bubbles

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Ugh. I am so damn fed up with people. Largely, my frustration stems from the news and all that depressing bullshit about violence, death, rage, and hate. The world is just so fucked up. What the hell is wrong with people?? I know, I should probably cut back on my news intake, but my relationship with the news is kinda weird. I’m not exactly sure what compels me to read it every day– some strange obligation or responsibility or… I mean, typically I don’t really give a fuck about being out of touch with things (hello, pop culture), but I suppose the news for me is some bizarre reminder to keep my gullibility in check: Don’t be too trusting or oblivious. Have some frickin’ street smarts, naive sheltered child.

Speaking of news and trust, WTF Brain Williams? I’ve been crushing on that dude for a long time. Seriously, before him, I had a thing for Peter Jennings. I know, that shit is super old school, but heck man, I grew up watching World News Tonight with my dad. I can’t pinpoint the exact source of attraction. Who knows what little girls pick up on: authority, a nice voice, a trustworthy demeanor, a fancy suit, legit journalistic skillz?? Who cares. Peter Jennings was my man. Sure, I was devastated when I discovered he was a chain smoker (How could you, my beloved?). Fuck man, life’s been bursting my bubbles ever since. But back to Brian. On one hand, as someone who certainly has moments of confusion and muddiness, I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. Did he perhaps hear so many traumatic stories that somehow he internalized them to become his own experiences? I am reminded of that time J and I were in couples counseling. We were both recounting some incident that happened, and we both told completely different stories. Like, the FACTS were totally different. I was so shocked at the time. Like what. the. fuck. What you are saying is NOT TRUE! I was there, and I did NOT do that. Back and forth we went. In the end, the therapist said something to the effect of, there can be two truths to the same scenario or situation. I was like, no sister, that’s not the definition of truth. There is the truth, and then there is a lie. Either shit happened or it didn’t; we’re not talking about some gray area of interpretation. There is only ONE right answer!!! The point, in our case, was that ultimately, none of it matters. What a person thinks and believes happened, pretty much makes it real. So then where does intention come into play? Did Brian intend to lie, or did something in his mind convince him that these things happened? If the latter, then isn’t that mental illness? I don’t know. I don’t know which side I’m really arguing. I mean, on one hand, having seen/learned about all the bullshit the world serves up on a daily basis, should any of us really be all that surprised? Probably not. People disappoint all the damn time. Still, in his defense, as someone who sometimes (not often!) gets her details mixed up (e.g., there are numerous places I don’t remember but where J insists I have been…), is it feasible that this was a lapse in recall rather than a deliberate tall tale?

Moving on… Last week, I met up with some of my former coworkers. More stories and woes of shit flowing downstream. That damn agency. I thought things had neared rock bottom two years ago. Nope, the spiral just keeps going downward. My one friend is chronically stressed, and STILL she does not even LOOK to see what’s out there. I met with three coworkers individually, and all complained to the high heavens. Oddly enough, I’ve run out of things to say. I mean, that place is broken. No amount of tweaks/changes will restore it to its former glory. So I just listen. I have no idea if it helps them at all. Inside though, I’m frustrated as hell by their inaction. People and their resistance to change. Curiously, my one friend, whom I see more regularly than the others, is starting to share fewer details. I dunno if she’s sick of hearing herself talk about it, or if she can see my frustration. Either way, the leaner lowdown helps me control the anger inside that still boils when I hear all the drama.

Beginner Shred

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Wow, a week later and I am still doing the Beginner Shred. Sure, Jillian Michaels’ plan calls for ten days straight on workout 1. I’ve stuck to the workout, but on a “modified” schedule, which is fine with me. I’m not aiming for buns of steel or anything. Of course, last night I did the workout, and this morning I awoke fucking paralyzed. WTF. Ok, not paralyzed but definitely “temporarily disabled.” Somehow, I managed to pull a muscle between my shoulder blade and spine. I didn’t really feel anything yesterday, although I suspect it’s that damn Superman exercise where you get on your belly and lift the front and back ends off the floor. I hate that shit. So uncomfortable, and now my head-neck mobility is totally fucked. Oh well, another day of rest for me!

Last week was pretty much a blur. Can I just say, I am so damn sick of home repair! On Superbowl weekend, I had a handyman over to fix a leaking toilet (among other tasks). Overall, he did a great job. The new latch on our gate works like a charm, and the guest bath can finally run the shower without all the water spewing out the tub faucet. And for the leaky toilet, he replaced the flap and made all the adjustments. All seemed good but then a few days later, I heard the toilet refilling with water again. So while the toilet doesn’t leak like it used to, it’s still leaking very slowly. Sometimes I wish J could just fix the damn thing, but he lifted the lid and poked around. No solution. I know, being all feminist and shit, I should just take care of it myself but goddamnit, I really don’t need one more thing added to my list of to dos. So I’m pretty fucking cranky about the leaky toilet. It really is a conservationist’s nightmare, and if this continues, that valve is just getting shut off. No more bullshit, man. Meanwhile, on Wednesday, we had a legit plumber onsite to rework the gas valve for our new double-oven range in the kitchen. Of course, as our timing would have it, we didn’t realize the toilet was leaking until after he had gone. And for his task, he said he was going to recess the electrical outlet in addition to modifying the valve. Well, he recessed the outlet like 1/2 an inch, so the range STILL protrudes an inch out of line with the cabinets. WTF? Another trip is required, because he says he needs a different receptacle box or whatever. I text him to ask if he can come next week. No reply. Fucking A.

In other news, Marty is getting me up in the middle of the night again. Last week, he started panting crazy at like 2a. I could not calm him down. I don’t even remember how he finally settled in the end. Maybe he wore himself down and knocked out. The day prior, my bud K gave me some calming droplets to add to his food or water. I tried it that evening, and he calmed down pretty soon after. But man, on Thursday, nothing worked. Every time I feel sleep deprived, I think about my new mom friends and I try to conjure strength and patience. But shit, I get so dang cranky and irritable. Whatever though, at least I don’t take it out on poor Marty. (I just take it out on others!)

So a storm moved in late Thursday. Wind gusts and lots of rain. I had J put in a rain chain (we wanted to try using that instead of the decrepit downspout). When he got up on the ladder, he discovered a bunch of ponded water on the front left of the house. Ponding over the eaves portion (not main portion) of the roof. Uh duh. That’s why we have all those dryrotted beams. What a fucking pain. It’s really stressing me out. I had the handyman take a look last month, and he turned down that work saying it was beyond his skillset. Then, a construction crew who worked on my neighbor’s beams said they were interested. I asked for a quote and the journeyman said he wanted to meet the following weekend. Well, he never got back to me. Flakes!!! Now I have emailed my other neighbor’s contractor, and hopefully that guy can come out and take a look. At this point, I just want shit fixed. I don’t even care about price (desperate times, desperate measures)… No more goddamn dilly dallying. For realz. On Monday, I’m also going to call the Day Worker Center. Last year I saw some flier from the Center, saying they have skilled and trained workers available for all kinds of home repair, gardening, cooking, cleaning, painting, etc. Time for action.

Glorifying Busy

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Remember way back in July when I gushed about seeing Arianna Huffington at BlogHer? She did this whole spiel about how our culture loves to glorify busy. Well, I definitely felt the truth in her words, but shit, old habits die hard.

Somehow, months later, I have found myself back on the treadmill. Today, I was in SF for Day 2 of the Social Good Tech Summit. Yeah, I paid for the tickets on my own and attended for myself. No surprise there. I’m a nerd at heart. At least, work let me count Friday as a professional development day!

So today’s session was good, but it was also an honest reminder that I really am a step or two outside of my sweet spot. Social media for higher ed just isn’t in that inner circle where tech intersects with social impact. That realization makes me kinda sad. The other takeaway from today is that I’m starting to get soft again. Remember those times when I was networking like a fiend, going to event after event, introducing myself to strangers, posing questions to speakers, trading contact info with random people I met? I worked so damn hard, desensitizing myself to my social anxieties and now, those skills are soft again. Yesterday, I must have gone the entire day at the conference without conversing with anyone. Ok, so I introduced myself once, but then I really didn’t engage in conversation. So lame. Naturally, out of fear of regression, today I made a point of asserting myself. Super uncomfortable. I met a German guy who blogs about travel and wearables. I also chatted with a Czech lady about social enterprises. She was smart, not to mention tall, blonde, and gorgeous. Some days I really wonder what it must be like to be white, blonde, blue-eyed, and tall. The world must respond in such a different way… Or even if I were a dude… So many things would be different. But I digress. The people I met today were nice, but afterwards I felt so lacking. Like the lady was so hungry about creating and growing her startup. Talking to her made me think about being hungry vs. being busy. Which am I? I was so inspired yesterday by the presenters who were using tech to facilitate real, concrete change: registering a shit ton of voters; creating visualization apps to help doctors more accurately treat (and educate patients about) brain cancer; training family members of sick patients in India to have a better understanding of ailments and treatments… What am I doing day to day? How is my work contributing to change? The link is pretty weak. Yet, I continue convincing myself that in some way I am building new skills, learning new things… I  am feeling more comfortable and more settled into my role now. I feel happy too when my students are excited and eager to share their ideas and thoughts with me. I hope that I’m a good manager and that they enjoy working with me…

Famous and successful working women always say that “having it all” is a sham: you can’t “have it all” at the same time. Their comments remind me that people do things for different reasons at different times. So what are my reasons for doing this right now? And for how long will those reasons hold? So many thoughts swirling in my head. Are you sick already of hearing them?

Interestingly, I came across this article the other day about Type A personalities. What do you think? I know, I will spend my whole life trying to deny that I am Type A. If this reveals anything, J and I actually reviewed the list together item by item, and he claims that I meet at least 22 of the 25 criteria. See? I’m moderate.

Btw, I recently discovered some fitness programs included as part of my on-demand cable subscription. You know me: always lured by two keywords– free (or included) and fast. This time, it happens to be Jillian Michael’s 20-Minute Shred. Yes, considerably longer than my 7-minute workout, but this gives me something interesting to watch while I sweat my brains out. I have done two days so far. Yeah, those ripped muscles are emerging already!

Endless Hustle

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Midnight already. WTF? This week has been nonstop action once again. Yup, apparently, the excitement over here is off the hook. Life and times of the VG. I noticed today that I am starting to ignore my body’s triggers again. Need to pee? Wait, I’m in the middle of something. Hungry? I’m busy. OMG, how self-important can I be? Yeah, saving lives with social media. Whatev.

Today I noticed a different sensation though: I sat so damn long (on my bouncy ball even!) that my butt went numb. And on top of that, the office is fricking freezing. I brought in my mini space heater, but that shit is too damn small. Suitable at my last job where I was living the cubicle life, but now that shit doesn’t crank enough heat. I really might have to bring back the old school hot water bottle. My bud K though might really shit her pants. Oh well, I can’t be stopped. Time to kick things into high gear!

So I had a meeting yesterday with my boss. She was asking me a ton of blunt questions again. It’s funny because, as someone who values directness, I have an appreciation for the Inquisition. That said, being on the receiving end is a little weird. I mean, I answer truthfully (no surprise there), but at the same time, I try not to come across with just neutral and negative feedback, i.e. NO POSITIVE responses. She asked me what I like most, what I like least, if I’m having fun… I hope that all my communications workshops and social intelligence training enabled me to walk that thin line. Basically, I gave this vibe: I’m ok for now, i.e. I’m not lovin’ it but I’m also not actively looking to leave. Who knows how she read it.

Ok, so this week wasn’t ALL work. After an 18-month hiatus, Sasha Fierce made an appearance. Holy shit. My toupee emerged from her box for a new office debut. I wore my hairpiece most of the week, and because I’m a dumbass who CANNOT lie to save my life, nearly everyone who commented about my bangs was told the truth. I know, some of them probably would have preferred a lie. But really, why should fake hair carry a stigma? I know, even with hair extensions, I cannot fib. What compels me to be so damn forthcoming? I dunno! I mean, I just think fake hair is funny. When I first stumbled on these amazing creations with P in the beauty supply shop, I just could not believe how easy they were to clip on nor how natural they looked! Jessica Simpson and her dude Ken Paves know how to do it up, man!

The only thing is, the wig has always needed a trimming. Because I’m awful with cutting hair and I’m too lazy/cheap to take that shit with me to the salon, I just wore my bangs straight out of the box. With the original length, I had to clip those fuckers way far back on my crown so I could still see through them side swept. Def a little bit off. Enter my bud K. Homegirl has been cutting her own hair in between cuts for ages, so she’s freaking experienced. She even had legit shears– for cutting hair, rather than crafts and school supplies. Anyway, she took me downstairs to some super secret solo bathroom (instead of the multi-stall one on our floor) and snip, snip, snip, voila! My bangs are super badass now. I think next K will be tasked with braiding. I am dying to try the fishtail. In fact, I have purposefully kept my hair long so that I can put in braids. The time has finally come. Yup, it sure is fun hanging with someone who knows about hair, clothes, and makeup… let the experimenting begin! Muhahaha.

Too Cool for School

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I work for a university now, so technically, every day is back to school. But my supervisor signed me up for an 8-week social media marketing course online, and while I’m nearly always game for learning (especially when it’s free), this class is a super time sink. Seriously. My daily karaoke hour is now replaced with time for class readings and homework– with real deadlines and grading and shit! Totally sucks.

My coworker thinks I should just use work time for the class and assignments, but I don’t have time during the day. Then part of me wants to just blow through the assignments– you know, pick and choose but still learn. The thing is, I almost never treat school/academics that way… so I dunno. Here I am on a Saturday night doing homework and preparing some kind of presentation. I’m really a little irritated by it all. But in the end, I’m still gonna do it. I just won’t do it without complaining. As my mother has always described, “Vicky will always do what has to be done; just don’t expect her to smile about it.” Haha.

This also got me thinking though: If I were a student in today’s learning environment, I might really hate the educational experience. I mean, I don’t mind getting all the assignments online and doing all the readings, but I HATE the forced participation, especially in the online setting. I’ve done a few of these virtual learning setups, and ugh, the whole mandatory round robin intro just really irks me. Then, each person has to answer the same questions… via the forum and grading is also based on how much you respond to your classmates’ comments. Yeah, part of me thinks, “What’s the big deal, anyway?” And I guess my aversion doesn’t really make sense, because I love to write, and I spend a lot of time online. Plus, I have a public blog. If anything, I overshare. Still. Something about forced interaction in an online forum just feels unnatural, awkward, and unnecessary. I know, I’m totally overanalyzing this. I suppose I’m really just procrastinating. Blargh.

In other news, J’s company had their holiday party last week. There are a few people I really get along with– a spouse of his coworker, a coworker here and there, but pretty much I spent the evening following the hired magician around from table to table, obsessively eyeing his tricks. Dude was amazing– apparently a favorite of Woz and Charles Schwab even! That really made my night, and he even told me he could get me tickets to the Magic Castle in LA. Yup, that shit is on my bucket list.

What else. Marty is doing really great. He still digs around his bed at night but much less, and I am starting to sleep a bit better. Our new kitchen range FINALLY arrives on Monday, and then my handyman will be onsite hopefully next week to crank out a few house items that have lingered for years.

I have a new BFF at work. She’s a very cool chick: super sharp and witty, wise beyond her years. She’s not even 30 yet. We’re both newbies, so we got that bond going on. Any job is so much more tolerable when there are people you like at the office.

Ok, kinda an abrupt ending to the post tonight. I’ve been piecing this post together over a few days, and it just has to end here. For now.

The Power of New Shoes

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A week or two after we’d returned from our holiday in Maryland, I spoke with my parents on the phone. Dad was fully recovered from his GI issues, and he was feeling much better. I was happy to hear a lighter mood in his voice even. On that particular day, they had just returned from a shopping trip, where dad purchased a new pair of sneakers. My parents are going on a cruise in a few months, so dad was on the hunt for comfy sneakers. Apparently, they’d never been to a Dick’s Sporting Goods, so Dad spent the next 15 minutes telling me about his latest bargain!

“Have you ever heard of the brand ‘Saucony?’ Those sneakers cost $109!!! And I saw Nikes for $160!! So expensive! But I found a pair of Sauconys on sale for $59. Mommy said the color didn’t look good, but I tried them on, and the shoes are so comfortable! I don’t care how they look as long as they’re comfortable. And for $59, I just couldn’t resist!”

Do you see how I really am my father’s daughter? Meanwhile, when I tried to get details about the questionable colors, I realized we were talking neon green. There’s a term in Chinese for women who used to sell beetlenuts in brightly-lit roadside booths. A few years back, this was one of the raunchiest things about Taiwan… beetlenuts could probably be likened to chewing tobacco, but anyway, these clear glass booths were super obnoxious with scantily clad women (girls) inside selling the goods. So people call those women, “la mei,” which means hot (as in spicy) little sister. So mom was telling me that dad’s new sneaks are like in the style of “la ge” (spicy big brother). Was she telling me dad’s new shoes were pimp shoes? I dunno, but it sounded so ridiculous. I have yet to know the exact model he purchased, but a search on Google reveals something as “spicy” as this, or something as subdued as this. Either way, this is a fashion disaster, especially considering that my father only wears dress slacks– even while vacationing. He does not own khakis or jeans or chinos. That shit is way too casual for him. Always slacks. I mean, as a kid, he’d take us to the local tennis courts, and he would play with us while dressed in his suit and tie. Granted, he was “on call,” but this is the level of formality I grew up with, which also explains why my parents hate that I wear jeans. I mean, I’m glad he’ll be able to walk a ton in those cushy sneaks, but I really might have to stage a fashion intervention. If anything, he’s going to stick out like a major tourist!

The good thing about all this craziness? Sometimes retail therapy does go a long way. I mean, all this renewed optimism and excitement– just from a pair of “spicy brother” shoes!

Keeping Me on My Toes

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Monday evening, after I got home from work, I started sneezing up a storm. I suspected something was coming on, so I went to the hot tub to “burn it off.” Burn off what? I dunno exactly, the shivers, the sniffles, the germs… whatever. The hot tub usually works wonders for me, as you know my body loves super hot heat. Unfortunately though, the next morning my throat hurt really badly. I guess in this particular case, the hot tub didn’t work for warding off sickness, but hey, at least it was ONLY the throat and nothing else. Anyway, I was in bed most of the day, working online. You see, now that my coworker has left to start a new job and my second coworker has been out sick, I get to manage two additional interns. Yep, I’m up to FOUR now. Thankfully, the two additionals are pretty damn solid. Who the fuck knew? They are full of ideas, initiative, and motivation. Thank fucking god. Needless to say, I was busy online most of yesterday lining up work for them. Social media never rests.

I wrote earlier this week about Martin’s condition of dementia and me finding a solution to give him (and me) comfort and security through the night. Yesterday, I was looking forward to a good night’s rest so I could return from my sick day and hit the ground running on Wednesday. Well, I definitely spoke too damn soon about solving the sundown syndrome problem. Last night was one of THE worst nights of rest. We brought his big Costco pillow back in the bedroom (not sure why), and Marty started digging frantically at it in the middle of the night (J had already knocked out like a rock). Then the pacing, from one side of the bed to the other. WTF? True to my word, I kept my cool, but shit. For some reason, he wasn’t interested in the under-bed den. Why goddamnit?? Ugh.

Tonight, J is away on business, and I did some vacuuming and reorganizing. I also moved the Costco pillow out of the room again. Now, Martin just has one option on where to sleep. I got the heating pad turned on, the draped towel over the opening under the bed, and right at this moment, Marty is sleeping without incident. I really need to rest tonight, because tomorrow I’m going to be stuck in an all-day HR orientation class (aka Jesuit indoctrination) and then I’ll have to hustle home and head into the city for J’s company holiday party. See this is the thing about holidays. Why can’t everyone be this damn practical? I mean, so many vendors (restaurants, airlines, services) jack up prices for the holidays. It’s such a ripoff. Like his company just says, nope. We’ll do it after the holidays. Done. No debate. I kinda like that.

But back to tonight: I’m winding down and intending to get to bed early. So what happens? I go on Pinterest and start seeing all this food. Shit, now I am starving, because I ate about five measly spoonfuls of fried rice left over from lunch and then I just now forced myself to do the 7-min workout. Yeah, only seven minutes but when you’re majorly fucking out of shape, that shit knocks the wind out of you. And you know, I got that metabolism churning, so now I’m hungry. Well, without the NuWave, I dunno how to do jackshit. Guess tonight I’m just going to bed hungry. Oh well, my system needs recalibrating anyway. One ignored hunger pang is not gonna kill me.

In other news, I might be meeting up with my mentor L. Man, now that I work near San Jose, lunches or events in the city are EXTRA far. Coincidentally, he has a client meeting in San Jose so I might hitch a ride on his way back north and then make it for J’s company party. Lots of coordinating, but it’ll be nice to catch up. I haven’t seen L since Aug or September I think.

Ok, I need to hit the sack. But now that I think of it, there is some cheese in the fridge. Haha, the hunger pang might be answered after all!

Doggie Dementia

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I had another reality check recently. Last week, I was having a lot of trouble again with sleeping, because Marty was digging at his bed in the middle of the night and pacing a lot. I got him a new bed lifted off the ground and tried a number of different arrangements, but nothing worked. I was really kind of exhausted by it all.

Finally, I dunno how this came to me, but I took the foam cushion out of his existing bed and put it in the cavernous space under our bed. Yeah, both Remy and Martin used to love sleeping under the bed and then they abruptly stopped a year or two ago. Not sure why. So I took the cushion, added a heated pad on top of the cushion, and then covered with an old blanket. OMFG, that worked!! Now, every night, Martin crawls under the bed. I also added some towels draped over the opening, so he has more privacy (actually, I was wanting to retain the heat) in his little den. He still wakes up in the middle of the night to go outside and pee, but for the most part, there is no more frantic digging… maybe because the space is too tight and too short. I hope too that the cozy quarters make him feel more secure and safe.

The thing is, even as I have seemingly found something that works in the short term, I still need to confront the reality that Martin has doggie dementia. Sure, the vet had mentioned it on occasion when I complained about space cadet behavior, with him staring into the space and the bizarre trembling, especially at night. Well, this article spelled it out further. In humans, there is even something called “sunset syndrome” where the dementia exacerbates at night and the person gets disoriented and confused which in turns causes all the anxiety and trembling and confusion. In normal dogs, they have the cognition to deal with confusion or uncertainty, but with older dogs, that ability to self-soothe and cope diminishes. Poor Marty. In my sleep deprivation, I’d started to get so impatient with him. I should really know better: He has always been a dog who is very eager to please, and I’m sure that my frustration only made things worse. I am trying to be better. At least, now I’m more informed about what is going on.

Friends with Kids

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We are meeting with a handyman tomorrow morning for a long list of home repairs that we have been procrastinating for years. Depending on what he’s comfortable doing, the work might expand to something big involving electrical rewiring and such. We’ll see. The guy actually works for my former employer, and he did some repair work for my uber meticulous friend M, so he’s automatically competent, qualified, and trustworthy in my book. Haha.

Our friends J and J just popped out their first kid this week. H was a 9 pounder! Shit, man. We’re waiting to hear from the parents on when they are ready for visitors. Interestingly, I recently came across this article on HuffPo. The read was actually kinda eye-opening, not so much because what she said was new but rather, her statements carried a resounding familiarity. Her description about conserving energy and hunkering down in survival mode was almost word-for-word shit I’d heard from my friend J. After hearing his excuses for well over a year, I admit, I grew increasingly annoyed and dismissive of his reasons. Now that some time has passed, revisiting this topic doesn’t seem nearly as irritating. I still think losing touch (at varying degrees) with our friends with kids is inevitable, because that’s just how the cookie crumbles. As my friend once said, “We live radically different lives, yo.” I’m just not going to take it personally anymore.

In other news, work is going ok. My latest BFF/coworker had her last day on Tuesday. It sucked to see her go. Such is life! Thankfully, I am feeling more settled and less stressed about work these days. I’m still trying to keep that new perspective about work-life balance and such. Oddly, my boss keeps asking me if I’m having fun. Haha. All I can say is I’m feeling better than I did initially. I’m not gonna lie: I wouldn’t call it “fun,” BUT I’m feeling ok. She’s probably just feeling a little paranoid because my coworker left. For now, I’m all in.

That said, man people piss me off with their asinine comments on social. I did a post about the 7-11 store next to campus reopening, and some asshole complained that “as an alum,” he was disappointed to see such an endorsement, blah, blah, blah. Well asshole, I’m not a big fan of 7-11 either, but you know what? The kids fucking LOVE 7-11. I posted months ago about the store while it was under construction, and it got a shit ton of engagement, so newsflash: ou’re not the only person in my audience. I was so annoyed 1) because he pulled the power card (I’m an alum, so my opinion matters more than anyone else’s) 2) if you don’t particularly like a post, who the fuck takes the time to actually complain (??) and on Instagram, of all platforms? Some people are so lame. Whatevs.

Fast Car

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Goddamn, another week is done. This one actually felt fuller than most, maybe because J and I are, you know, trying to “live our best life” and all that bullshit. Yup, still going strong after that swift kick in the ass from the parentals.

We donated my old car to the food bank. I was thrilled to learn that the Camry we gave them 4 years ago is still running. The org is planning to replace the tires on my Honda and use it internally. I love when I find reuse opportunities for our old things. Reuse is so much better than recycling. Meanwhile, I am having a blast driving my new fast car! I mean, I probably just drive it normally, but because the engine is an upgrade from my 4-cylinder, I feel like I am darting all around town with renewed vigor. Haha.

I started singing again with my new karaoke system. The Singtrix system is pretty cool in that I can play YouTube karaoke files and also regular music files (it can take out the voice part). Right now I am listening to Lana Del Rey nonstop, because I’m determined to master a song or two. Yeah, I know, whatever happened to the whole “enjoy the moment and don’t worry about technicalities” mindset? I dunno. I suppose in some way, this is how I have fun… building skills and such. So yeah, right now I’m in OCD mode with singing. Sometimes after I crawl into bed, I play the YouTube karaoke files on my iPad and just sing along… without my mic and SingTrix system. J is now calling me Doobie Del Rey. Haha. Historically, these intense periods of mine tend to be short-lived, so I might as well take advantage and hit the iron while it’s hot. I’m making decent progress too.