Random

Now that I’m home, I’m back to doing what I do best: relationship cultivation/management. Haha, I know, it’s an odd term, but seriously, I think it’s one of my best strengths. As I’ve been going through this “life crisis” for the past year, trying to figure out what the hell I should do with my life, I often joke to John that I wish I could just be a professional friend. I just love connecting with my peeps. And I think I’m pretty good about staying up on all their business: like I know when they travel, what appointments they have, what life milestones are coming up, what important work events are on the horizon… really, I have a whole separate Google calendar just to keep up with what’s happening in their lives. I’m a tracking maniac, but in a helpful way, I hope. 😉

Anyhow, I made a new friend this past year at work. He’s kinda someone I would never really expect to be friends with (due to age, politics, background), except that he’s a cowboy. And I’m not throwing that word around to describe my own Mickey Mouse wannabe cowgirl antics. No, this dude comes from generations of ranchers in California, and he has enough champion rodeo belt buckles to bedazzle my house. Naturally, as my cowgirl obsession has intensified over the last few years, I somehow managed to weasel my way into his circle of acquaintances. It’s been a lot of work, I tell ya. In fact, I think it’s been probably 6 months now, with me trying to get him to 1) teach me lassoing, 2) give me some rodeo bling, and 3) take me out for a ride at the family ranch.

So as I was saying, it’s my first week back in town, and I decided to do some relationship cultivation, aka chipping away at this dude. I dropped him an email– to what I thought was a new personal email address– but I got this reply instead. Completely unexpected, but I have to say, a pleasant surprise. Maybe I just really like when people say I’m fun. Haha. It’s nice when random incidents in life just make me smile.


My email:

Hey cowboy,

Haha, you thought I was finally outta your hair, right? Wrong!! I just gave you a 2-week respite while I frolicked around North Carolina and Italy. Yup, this life of leisure is damn hard work!John and I had a great time in Italy except for the part where I got sick on the journey home. Cold/flu or something. I hope to be back in action 100% tomorrow. I didn’t think this was possible, but I overdosed on pasta. For realz.So now that I’m back from all my adventures, I’m ready for an adventure on the ranch. Hook me up, bro. 😉 Haha. I told you I’m persistent. Btw, how’s your consulting company shaping up? I might need to pick your brain on starting up a consulting biz. Show me the ropes!!

So hey, some of us from work are going to the Grand National Rodeo on Friday at the Cow Palace. Are you competing this year? If so, hopefully you’re competing Friday, and we’ll be able to cheer you on.

What else is cookin’? Fill me in on some dirt, would ya? Now that I’m unemployed, I got super slim pickins re: gossip. Help a gal out!
V


The reply:

Well, partner, I reckon my rodeo days are all washed up. LOL, actually I never had any rodeo daze…

Sorry, I suspect you sent this e-mail to me by accident? Do we know each other, and I’m being dense? (definitely a possibility)

Curiously, I was in Italy last week myself. We probably passed each other in the Cinque Terre or Umbria/Tuscany. In any event, you sound like a fun person and an entertaining soul. So, if we don’t know each other, entirely my own loss, I’m sure. If we’ve met in the Bay Area scene somewhere, though, please do remind me.

Ciao.

Italian Jaunt (with a Married Man!)

Oooh, a scandalous title, right? So here’s the deal. Because this trip to Italy was kinda a last minute booking, John and I did very minimal trip planning. But what little research I DID do, Rick Steves fucking scared me straight. Pickpockets, pickpockets, pickpockets. Yes, so all of these warnings (also on the forums) made me paranoid, similar to when I did my solo language immersion trip to Spain in 2009. Back then as precautions, I ordered an ankle wallet, a door stop, and a rape whistle… I even prepped a fake wallet with expired credit cards. I know, I’m fucking crazy. So this time, I got worried all over again. I didn’t go as overboard as with Spain, but I did do the ankle wallet, and also, I left my wedding ring at home. Not that it’s some ridic, blinged out rock, but I dunno, the books said to be “low-key.” I know, those of you who know me would probably say that I’m always low-key, trying to be all in incognito or whatever. Point is, I just didn’t want to be inconvenienced with having to worry and deal with the consequences of petty theft. So, the ring stayed home.

After we survived (barely) the 20 hours of traveling discomfort, Florence was totally fine. Yeah, lots of tourists but I never saw any pickpockets. I mean, I know they are all skilled and undercover, but I feel like even in Shanghai and Barcelona, I witnessed some sketch. None in Florence– none anywhere we went in Italy. Maybe they are just that good. Needless to say, my worries were for naught, as John told me several times. Yes, it was typical Vicky overkill. Shrug. Blame it on my OCD. So then, the fun idea was that… haha, here I am traveling in a romantic place sans wedding ring, but John is wearing his… Won’t people suspect some funny business? I mean, I might be perceived as the other woman, right?? Can you tell that being unemployed has totally killed my once abundant source for drama? Yeah, so now I have to go around creating drama. Well, don’t you worry. The Italians were about as intrigued as you are. Nothing. Why? Because no one fucking gives a damn. I mean, I just thought maybe it could be interesting/curious, but no. It became clear pretty fast that many Europeans have an unconventional take on marriage anyway… married/unmarried/child out of wedlock, who cares?! So, that was the end of that story line. Ah well, it was amusing (albeit short-lived) for me.

Overall, Italy was a good time. I have to say: I can’t really articulate the expectations we had going into the trip, but coming out, the real Italy certainly wasn’t what I had envisioned. Maybe I thought it was going to be totally different from any other place I’d been (the way Wyoming was), but stepping into town, I easily saw glimpses of Spain, Taiwan, Shanghai even. And the food? I was wanting every meal to blow my socks off. The pasta indeed is very different (better), and while we had a few amazing, superb meals, we also had several bombs. That’s the trouble with expectations, right?

In a week, we hit three cities: Florence, Bologna, and Venice– a pretty diverse slice. In Florence, we stayed four nights. The city was laid out pretty logically. We hit most of the major tourist sights. The weather was cloudy, sometimes drizzly and downright sopping wet, but we still covered a lot: we hit Boboli Gardens, did a sculpture museum, the Galileo museum, saw the David. We saw David the last morning we were there. Yeah, we weren’t able to get in the day before, so we got up super early to wait in line the next day. In my head, I was complaining about not sleeping in and blah, blah, this sculpture is so over-hyped. Boy was I dead wrong. Holy crap: David is a masterpiece! I must have stared at him for 15 whole minutes– totally unheard of for an uncultured rogue like me. I was in awe. Michelangelo is a genius for realz! Yeah, the art and architecture there is just so mind-blowing– even by modern day standards, what we saw was nothing short of amazing. And to know that people created/built that stuff in like the 14-16th centuries??? Speechless. Seriously, whaa???

Food-wise: Our first night in Florence, I had an incredible ravioli truffle dish; John had spaghetti carbonara. Both totally hit the spot after an annoyingly long and anti-optimized journey (Never again, CDG!!). Yeah, the pasta was so savory: my mouth is watering thinking of it now (even though I’m supposedly “overdosed” on pasta). A few nights later, we had the famous bistecca Florentina (a monster slab of t-bone, incredibly seasoned and then seared on all sides and rare inside). That was a really memorable meal, and we definitely paid a price for it the next morning.

Bologna was the least touristy of the cities. It’s a university town, so there was a nice youthful vibe and energy. We stayed at an AirBnb joint there. We found an incredible gelato shop and also indulged in a ridiculous quantity of salami and prosciutto. John insists he was on the English system rather than the metric system when he told the meat monger 1/2 a kilo. (And that was just the salami!)

Venice was easily the most beautiful of the three cities. There is just something so unique and picturesque about the canals and all the bridges and boats. The city was very difficult to navigate (we got lost a lot) and the narrow walkways were even more packed with tourists than elsewhere, but we had a good time exploring. We found an expensive chocolate shop and got an enormous bar of nougat. Sadly, it didn’t even last all the way back to the States. I was not good about rationing.

[FAG id=7397]

Honoring our Histories

My trip to Wilmington really reminded me of something my friend G once shared: You can’t make new old friends. How true. My week-long reunion with N really highlighted how with old friends, you can lose touch and become separated by distance, but when you meet again, it’s just like old times.

I think for most of us, our childhood and adolescent years are such formative periods in shaping who we become as adults… N was there when I had my nervous breakdowns in middle school, she was there when I was bullied, when I had daily shouting matches/cry fests/confrontations with my parents over their strict style of parenting, when my relationship with my brother was great and then shitty then estranged. She taught me about tampons, she introduced me to theater (Miss Saigon at the Kennedy Center), she helped shave my head (inverted bob) before my second date with John in downtown Frederick… and she learned to read me so well– to clue in on cues without me even saying a word. When she picked me up this last time at the airport, she pulled up to the curb with the music blasting per her usual method of enjoying the tunes, but as soon as I got in, she turned that shit waaay down. She remembered that my volume threshold is super low.

And even as we have made different choices as adults, I see that she still pays real attention and observes my (and other people’s) reactions. As a 30-something, I have grown much more flexible about pushing my boundaries and stepping outside of my comfort zone, but even though I have the capacity to do that, N recognizes these actions as conscious adjustments, and she considerately doesn’t let my discomfort sit for too long. Another example: She knows that, even though I am currently unemployed by choice, it’s a difficult situation for me to not feel productive or purposed or useful. She seemed to know just what to say to lend that bit of reassurance. These are the gestures, the spoken and unspoken words, the considerations that come largely with time, with really seeing and understanding another person. I am reminded that old friendships and relationships are truly treasures to cultivate, cherish, and honor. I am thankful.

Wilmington Whirlings

At the end of September, I visited my old bud N in Wilmington, NC. N and I have been friends since the 7th grade, so we go waaay back, kicking it old school. Both of us went to college in NC, but I hadn’t been to her coastal college town in well over ten years. After her father passed away several years ago, her mom sold the house in MD and also moved south, about 20 minutes away from N.

Certainly, N and I have had our struggles in the 23 years of our friendship, but I have to say, this trip was so good for both of us. For the first time in probably a decade, she seemed happy, and wow, I could see just how much her life and attitude have changed after losing over 100 lbs. I’ve never really struggled with weight issues, but I imagine the paralysis she experienced before was similar to what I had felt when I had severe, disfiguring cystic acne: I never wanted to leave the house; I felt so ugly and undeserving of love and attention. When my skin cleared in my 30s, I felt so liberated: I wanted to try and do everything! N wanted to dress up; she wanted to go out; she wanted to live the life she had always wanted to live. I feel so happy seeing her like this: energetic, curious, optimistic, and open. It’s hard not to be in awe. John kinda explained it like this: so many times, we are told that people don’t change. We can spend our whole damn lives wishing and wanting those we love to improve their situations and circumstances. It is true– they have to be ready for the change, but goddamn, just when you’re ready to give up, to just let them be, to begrudgingly accept the choices they have made for themselves, they really can surprise you and blow your fucking socks off. I have witnessed so many examples of people pulling through for themselves. The human will is so amazingly resilient and fierce!! My friend M. Her mother smoked like two packs a day for decades. Then, she quit one day. Cold turkey. Just decided it was time. Another friend: she was severely depressed. For months, she couldn’t get out of bed. Then one day, she decided to get up and go outside. Maybe the transformation isn’t as black/white as I describe: maybe behind the scenes, there is a slow and gradual progression, but  geez, you just never really know when that one nugget will motivate someone to take the reins and change his/her life for the better. I feel freshly inspired by the incredible strength of people I know.

In other respects, this trip to coastal Carolina was just so nice. We met up with some old acquaintances, visited our old stomping grounds (Bald Head Island), and I met some new faces. A few observations: I have to say, the contrast of being outside of the Silicon Valley bubble is quite noticeable. That flight from Atlanta to Wilmington? It had like no minorities on it. Interestingly, when I got off the plane and waited for N at the airport curbside, a redheaded cub came up to me and said, “Excuse me, but has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” I know, wth right?? Totally unaccustomed to this kind of attention, I froze and was immediately unable to make eye contact. “Ummmm, uh no, but thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.” Jesus Christ, am I a robot or what? I mean, given the way I responded, you would have NO IDEA that his compliment made my day. 🙂 Although, I’m pretty convinced he was just drawn to me, because I had my “exotic” Asian thing going. Haha. Oh well, I’ll take what I can get!

Omg, my trip also reiterated how undeniably, I really am my father’s daughter. When my parents visited J and me in September, dad fixed everything possible in the house: the air conditioning insert, shelving, yard stuff, etc. Turns out, I had the same compulsions at N’s house. I fixed her broken shower head; I updated her computer and installed new software; I set up a wifi network; I re-mounted the broken alarm transmitter… what can I say, I like to be useful and get shit done.  Shrug.

Other than all the running around and going out, we also spent a good bit of time just catching up. I gleaned some interesting veterinary scoop from N: how to express anal sacs, the location of feline gonads, the affinity some doggies have for pacifier nipples, the process of euthanasia. Yeah, I keep telling myself, I’ll be ready when it’s R&M’s time to go, but shiiit, listening to the wind down process? I’m going to lose my shit. For realz. It just is what it is. Why can’t my puppies live forever. Why??

What else. Oh, N is buds with a bluegrass band in Wilmington. They weren’t playing the week I was in town, so the bassist invited a few of us to his house for their practice session. I haven’t listened much to bluegrass, but it’s a happy style of music, which can be a pleasant change from my usual depressing, melancholic alternative tunes. The musicians play mandolin, banjo, guitar, and bass. I chatted up the banjo player afterwards and peppered him with questions about his finger picks. He probably thought I was weird. Check out their band: Massive Grass. A nice group of guys.

[FAG id=7395]

The Young and the Restless

So I had my final acting class last night. Probably only about 3/4 of the class showed up. We spent the first half of the class doing the usual warmup exercises: the name game, samurai, improv, repeating.

The line reading exercises could not have come soon enough. This time we actually had a legit script. I knew it was for realz, because I actually watched The Young & the Restless when I was in middle school. I feel like I taped that shit or something. The names were very familiar. Of course I got paired with the Russian lady in the class who happens to be a director. So she was all about tweaking the scene to make it different than the usual reading: She wanted us seated a certain way, she had a cigar prop… I just wanted to focus on getting the lines down.

So our turn came and we went onto the stage. I was awkward but not really nervous or shaky which I think is a good indication that my anxieties are waning a bit. Anyway, my poor partner. Towards the end of the scene, I farted. I wasn’t expecting any of that. It was a low grade quiet one, but just as her detective character leaned in close to me, I knew the scent was there. Fuck man. Only me I tell ya!

I’m glad the class is done. Honestly, I just wasn’t too impressed with it. The teacher seemed like an airhead. Week after week, she didn’t remember student names and I dunno, she just didn’t really provide thorough explanations for the exercises. And well, last week’s script was a disaster. Anyone who would pick a lame yogurt commercial set at a costco sampling table just has poor judgement.

In other news, yesterday in the middle of the night, I awoke to one of the pups wailing uncontrollably. Not the usual whimpering but a full-on wail. I turned on the light and tried to wake Remy, but she kept crying and I couldn’t shake her awake. And her body was crazy heavy and limp. I didn’t know what the fuck was happening. Then she seemed to come to, but then her body just started convulsing like she was rocking back and forth trying to get off her back and her legs were running crazy. Bizarre repeated behavior. I thought maybe she was choking again, because her eyes went vacant again. I dumped her out of her dog bed, and John started doing a light Heimlich. Fuck. She finally came to after what seemed like 90-120 secs. Then she was wiped again, eyes tired. Ten minutes later her eyes started tracking us again (normal), and she got up for food and drink. I have never witnessed a human/animal during a seizure, but now I can totally see how people would have mistaken this shit for someone/something being possessed. Super disturbing and crazy. Poor Remy. Old age is really giving her a beating.

Nose to the Grindstone

Holy crap, I have had a jam packed week! First, I’ve been trying to make up for lost time in my Social Psych class. Sure, I started the class a little late to the game, but three weeks behind? I dunno what the hell happened. Consequently, I have been on a video lecture binge the last several days. And I still have like half the course to go! Oh well, despite my slacker-ass state, I cannot stop gushing about Coursera. Amazing quality, not to mention awesome access (and free!).

Besides the online class, I also scored a one-week pass for free yoga at a local studio (September is National Yoga Month). Because I am insanely motivated/driven by discounts and deals, I ended up doing seven straight days of hot yoga. Yup, I used that pass every damn day it was valid. Of course the classes kicked my ass, but I just convinced myself I was moving one step closer to achieving Linda Hamilton’s T2 body. Haha, yeah right.

What else. Acting class last week was lame again. More ridiculous, silly games and the one commercial exercise we did was of a couple sampling some high-fiber yogurt at Costco. The dialog was just super lame– the couple was unrealistically indecisive and the dialog was just plain stupid. I mean, I still went with the flow, but I would have enjoyed the activity a lot more if we had used an intelligent script. Oh well. Final class is tomorrow.

Other than that, I’ve been blowing a shitload of hours on travel planning. Yup, a few weeks ago, we finally bit the bullet and decided to make this Italy trip happen. It’s been on the list for YEARS, and it almost got nixed again this fall… But John’s kinda in need of another vacation pronto. And since Italy has been on his wishlist forever, it’s go time!

So I went to the library to grab all the guide books. I quickly realized that this was not really a trip to plan in two weeks. Oh no. Most travel books advise that lodging be secured 6-12 months in advance. Eek! Needless to say, a lot of hotels under $200/night were booked already. So then I went to AirBnb. Kinda sketch and/or gross selections. Then I tried Priceline. After two solid days of full-on research, I finally got lodging settled. Whew, what a pain. Why is Italy so fucking pricey??

In other news, my home office makeover is coming along. Before, the smallest bedroom was just a junky, random space that stored my office desk, a pathetic-looking air mattress, laundry racks, and the vacuum. A few months ago, T helped me recover more storage space in the closet and that allowed me to de-clutter the room and hide more of the junk. Now, this room has really transformed it into a practical, organized office AND a legit guest room. (Yeah, no more monster, half-inflated air mattress!) I got a CB2 daybed in July; we put up some Ikea wall shelves in August; I cleaned out my hutch/drawers, removed the hutch, put up some art, got T to inject more design magic, and bam! Whadaya know, I am actually in my office every damn day now getting my shit done! You know what they say: the home is your sanctuary and every room has the potential to promote mental calm and  boost creativity and productivity. Believe in the process, baby!

So last week, I started looking for wall art to fill the large, empty wall in my office. After spending an inordinate amount of time surfing online, I came across a site with really vibrant cowgirl-themed prints. Yup, I dropped some dough on wall art this week. The prints arrive next week, and I cannot wait. The room is gonna pop! Stay tuned.

Getting What I Want

Every year, Neil Young hosts this Bridge School benefit concert at Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountain View. John and I went with G&J last year, and this time we were planning to take his sis S and her beau. So as with nearly all my Ticketmaster purchases, I got everything ready (multiple browser windows open) before the sale commenced at 10a. For some fucking reason, this year I could not get the middle tier seats! It was either bid/auction for orchestra seats or buy lawn seats. So I went through the prompts a gazillion times, switching up the parameters selecting  “best available” then trying specific seat types. So odd, but nothing came up except lawn seats. So fine, whatever. I wasn’t shelling out $200 pp for a lineup I barely even know. I got four lawn seats, and that was that.

Well later, I realized that Shoreline does this 4-pack deal on lawn seats, and the savings is about $60 per pack! So studying the user interface again, I saw that in the drop down menu, instead of selecting “best available” and being offered the lawn seats, I was supposed to select “4-pk”. There was no special promo code or whatever. I mean, shouldn’t the program automatically see that I am purchasing 4 lawn tickets and just bill me the package price? Blah, blah, I discover on further research that Ticketmaster has this 3-day return policy for certain venues… I figure I’ll put this in my back pocket just in case.

So I call customer service. First, I read my order number like three times, and the guy still can’t pull it up in the system. Finally, he gets it via last name. So I explain the situation, and he gives me this canned reply: unfortunately, we can’t retroactively apply a discount code. Um, it wasn’t a code, and the system should have just told me I qualified for the package. Back and forth a few times where he repeats his line, and I rephrase but basically reiterate my talking points. No movement. So then I say, ok well if you can’t issue a credit, let’s just process a refund and then I’ll re-buy. Again, he says all sales are final. A blatant lie. So then I say that I read the online policy, and for Shoreline, there’s a 3-day refund. Then he says he can’t guarantee that I’ll get the same seats… Uh dude. Lawn seats = shitty seats = first come, first serve. That doesn’t apply in this case. Finally, he processes the return, the whole time telling me it’s a goodwill, one-time gesture. Blah, blah. Lie. I mean, here’s the deal. Ticketmaster policies should be consistently applied, and the people who work in customer service should fucking KNOW the policy. Wth, I dunno if he was lying intentionally or if he was ignorant. Either way, thankfully, I did my homework before the call… Who are these people? In the end, I got what I wanted but hell, something is fishy, right? The lesson? You gotta give push back, big time!

A few days later, I was a dumbass, and I forgot to take off my FitBit before my horseback riding lesson. I had a rockin’ lesson, but shit, we did a lot of cantering. At some point during the ride, I remembered feeling a hard knob on my inner thigh where it touched the saddle. I was going fast, so I couldn’t look down, but I thought maybe the reins got stuck funny in my saddle. Well, after feeling all triumphant post lesson, I realized FitBit was gone! Shit!! And there was no way I was going to recover it from a monster, dirty, dusty arena.

To be honest, the device had already started losing luster with me months ago, so I figured this was a good excuse to escape the FitBit burden. But then I got home, and well, you know me. I was all bummed about losing this $60 device and having to cancel my account. So I researched online. A bunch of people said they lost their device and when they asked to close their account, the company gave them a replacement. Huh, really? So I did just that: I emailed them that I lost it while riding, and what’s involved with closing the account.

Well this morning, I got a reply that basically said, sorry you lost it. We’ll close your account once you confirm your email. Uh… what?? So here’s the thing. I always want to give the vendor an option to take the “right” path. I mean, sure I lost it. It was my fault, BUT at the same time, I wore the device the way it was instructed to be worn. And I know a bunch of people who have lost the device just in normal day-to-day activity. It’s not like I created some jimmied version of wearing it. I had it clipped to my bra, and while it was bumpy ride on the horse, was it THAT bumpy that a clip should fall completely off? Needless to say, I was a little disappointed by the inconsistent customer service. So I wrote back, explaining that I had heard in some instances that a replacement is offered. I attached a receipt and added that I have purchased five devices for our family (my dad, his dad, and also our niece). Whattdya know, she offered me a replacement in the next email.

The thing is, why do these people have to be prodded? I mean, in both cases, the situation ultimately worked out fine, but I’m a bit annoyed with the arbitrary nature of this. Like had John written the email and they said no, he would have just left it. Ah well. I guess persistence pays off. 🙂

Interestingly, John explained that from FitBit’s perspective, replacement is actually the smarter way to go. Because it’s such a small device, it’s bound to get lost, and are people really going to keep shelling out the dough to replace? No, so once the device is lost, they are lost forever as a customer. Ah, why didn’t I think of that angle?

The Conversation

When my parents were here for their visit, I was fully expecting to be nagged about a number of issues: 1) my child-free lifestyle 2) my unemployment 3) my lack of a “legit” degree, i.e. medicine, law, or business. On day 2, my father and my husband had a lengthy conversation out on the patio. In general, my father is just a curious and inquisitive person, so I really wasn’t all that surprised when I overheard him asking John about his work, his company, and how the business was growing…

After the conversation, my father gathered all of us together and said that he just finished a nice conversation with John. And he was very happy to see that things are going well, and we have plans for the future. I mean, I was a bit surprised, because my parents know I’m a planning freak. And they know I’m a responsible person!!

What I realized though, was that something about his conversation with John offered reassurance. Maybe it was a sexist perspective about the man taking care of the woman (perhaps also a deeply-ingrained Chinese and/or American cultural pressure), or maybe it’s simply a parental thing. Even my friends admit that their parents give them unsolicited advice and opinions, no matter how long its been since they grew up and flew the coop.

I think of that car commercial: a dad sits in the passenger seat of the car telling his 8-year old daughter all the things to watch for when she drives… The camera pans away and goes back to the girl, but it turns out she’s a teenager, rolling her eyes, saying, “Dad, I know!” I think parents always view their children as kids (and not adults)!

Needless to say, I’m thankful the conversation occurred early on in the trip: I am convinced it did enough to spare me further unsolicited parental advice/commentary– at least this time around.

Hyper Mode

The aliens boarded their spaceship on Tuesday afternoon. All and all, a good visit, but I was pretty wiped from being in the company of other people 24-7. On Tuesday night, I had class 2 of 4 for my acting class. This session went better than the last: maybe I eased up a bit on the games. Yeah, they are still totally silly, but who cares? I might as well just go with the flow; we have one older dude in the class who is so goddamn uptight. He’s a total buzzkill. Next week, we’re supposed to get into some line reading and commercials. Yeah, baby. I’m gonna Elizabeth Dole that shit. Don’t worry, I’m not Republican. I just use her name as a verb to mean uber intense preparation for a public speaking activity. Remember when Bob ran for president many moons ago? Well, ED spoke at the RNC. Her speech was pretty damn flawless. I remember my parents would not stop cooing about it. But the back story was that she prepped it to the t– down to every movement and every gesture. So now, whenever I have to do a presentation, I “Elizabeth Dole” that shit. Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse: in the shower, cleaning the house, walking the dogs, doing the laundry… seriously, by the day of any major presentation, even John knows the first several sentences of my talk. I’m intense!! Haha. We’ll see what next week’s class brings.

In other news, I’ve been stalking (er researching) people and companies on LinkedIn. Anything that’s remotely interesting, I write down the required skills and research who might know what. You know how research is: that shit can be never ending. So I have a gabillion lists– lists of companies to check out, people to contact, skills to learn, jobs to consider… And I’m really digging this online schooling, man. Coursera is awesome. I’m hoping to finish the social psych class on there soon. I also just discovered Udemy (a competitor), where I’m checking out their Spanish videos. Then my Lean In (book club/career coaching class) wraps on Monday.

Today I’m hoping to slap on that second coat of paint for my Adirondack chair (I am sooo ridiculously slow with home tasks), go grocery shopping, and try a new recipe for dinner. Damn, it’s past noon already. I need to get going. Draggin’ ass.

Oh, I almost forgot: John and I attended a business’ 10th anniversary party yesterday where the company rented out the Virgin America suite at AT&T Park. I’m not really in to sports, so I’ve actually never been to the stadium, but it was a cool experience. I mean, no game going on, but still a nice venue. We went on a tour and got to go down to the field and inside the visiting team dugout and locker room. I was surprised to see that the new Yahoo! logo was up on the billboard. We also went into the press box. The whole place just really gave off an Americana feel. So weird how a place can do that.

K, off to attack my to dos!

[FAG id=7393]

Alien Encounter

So in July, I told my parents about my plans to leave work at the end of August (without having another job in place). Admittedly, this is a pretty risky move for most anyone, and maybe it’s even a bit out of character for a planning freak like me… On hearing the news, my parents immediately booked a flight out to California for early September (during my first few days of unemployment). Yup, no rest for the weary!

So last week, a few days after my job wrapped, the aliens landed. I call my parents aliens because well, we have a rather drama-filled history. They are good, responsible, caring people, but due to a variety of factors– culture, language, age, generation, personality– we clash often, less so now, but still. Consequently, even as I enter my late 30s, I still feel some tinge of dread before my alien encounters.

Surprisingly, this trip went pretty well– no major controversies. On the advice of my friend P, I tried to focus less on our differences and recurring conflicts and more on our commonalities. For example, I’ve come to realize that my father and I actually share somewhat similar personalities. We like to come across flexible and accommodating, but we easily get annoyed if there is zippo planning (and no efficiency). We don’t like to sit still: in fact, at 68 years old, my father is still the most intense/productive/efficient person I know. He really likes to pack shit in– be it travel, learning, pragmatic life skills and lessons. And both of us have a fear of complacency and stagnation. There is nothing worse than getting “soft” and losing the edge.

So, my parents have visited us four or so times since we moved out to California in 2006. Already, we’ve hit SF, San Jose, Carmel, Santa Cruz, Monterey, Half Moon Bay, and then they’ve also done various other touristy places throughout the state with tour groups. This visit, I thought we’d try something different: drive down the Pacific Coast Highway to Big Sur, Hearst Castle, and Cambria. I figured we’d spend a day to drive down, stay overnight in Cambria, then head back north and drop by the Gilroy Outlets on the drive home.

The drive down on day 1 was ok. I think after years of traveling on Chinese bus tours, their travel style is kinda like the Chinese idiom, “Ride the horse and see the flowers.” Basically, they travel drive-by style: no real time in one place, just stop, get out of the car, take some pictures, and get back in the car headed for the next attraction. We stopped at Point Lobos, south of Carmel and walked around a short trail to the cove. Then we climbed back in the car to lunch, where we feasted on the deck (too much sun for them though) of the California Market Restaurant (part of the Hyatt). Delicious clam chowder, perfectly grilled salmon, and tasty swordfish sandwich! Best meal of the trip! After roasting in that full sun, we got back in the car and then stopped in for a few minutes at Pffeifer Big Sur and Julia Pffeiffer State Parks– all big-name parks but unfortunately, to see anything substantive, hiking was required… and that just wasn’t happening in the afternoon heat. So we did a quick nature walk around the parking lot and then got back on the road.[FAG id=7388]

For evening accommodations, I got sucked into a Travelzoo deal, and we stayed at this place– Cambria Pines Lodge– that was really disgusting. Seriously. My affinity for discounts pulls my standards way down, but this place was embarrassing. Musty, dark, dirty, dingy… To make matters worse, John and I watched the Shark Tank on TV and one of the pitches was for a bed bugs detection product. I could not stop itching the whole rest of the night. Ugh.

I felt a little bad, actually, for my parents. Because of my frugality, they got shafted with totally subpar accommodations plus we had a shitty dinner at the hotel restaurant. John’s prime rib was like straight out of Restaurant Impossible. It looked like a slab of meat intended to be canned dog food. And still, the place was $200/night!!! Goddamnit. Oh well, I guess it was only one night. Every now and then, we all need a little jolt to keep it real, right?

The next day, we hit Hearst Castle. We did the Upstairs Suites tour, walked quickly through the lush gardens, and then they were ready to take the bus back down the hill. Maybe their attitude is: once you’ve seen one huge mansion, you’ve seen them all (they saw the Goodyear one in Ohio a few months ago plus a ton of castles in Europe). I think for them, having traveled all over the world, nothing amazes anymore. What can you do?

What else. My acting class started last week. 90 minutes long and totally kooky with about 25 people. Lots of silly games and exercises aimed at getting us “out of our minds.” Hmm, I dunno why I get myself into such uncomfortable situations. It’s my fear of complacency that pushes me outside my comfort zone, but then a lot of times, I don’t actually enjoy the experience. Oh well, only four classes in the series, and I guess this is one strategy to improve my patience/tolerance. Shrug. Fucking LivingSocial. Partly, I got sucked in by the dealio!

In other news, I’m continuing with my Social Psych class on Coursera. Loving it. Learning tons: who knew that people make such astoundingly accurate judgments within SECONDS of meeting strangers?! Apparently, first impressions really are EVERYTHING!!

Travel-wise: I’m uber stoked for Wilmington, NC at the end of the month. I’m going solo, so my bud and I will be livin’ it up SATC-style for seven days in this coastal college town. Well, she lives there already, but you get the drift. Plus, she’s dating some member of a bluegrass band, so I’ll get to witness the groupie lifestyle up close. Hehe.

Also, I booked airline tickets to Italy (finally) for October. Yup, pulled the trigger on my first day of freedom. We’re only going for 8 short days, but that’s just how we roll. We’re flying in to Florence, and out of Venice. I can not wait. Thank goodness I have some time now to do hardcore travel research! Hook me up, Rick Steves!

Can you tell my mind is in turbo mode again? It never ends, really. And hanging with dad only exacerbates my inadequacy complex. Seriously, I don’t know how one person can retain so much fucking practical, medical, financial, political, technical, global knowledge in one brain. In three days, he has already fixed my couch cushion (using a MacGyvered cushion needle made from a wire hanger), created a reliable (i.e. non-shitty) solution for my portable AC window unit, added shelving to my bedroom, plus talked stocks, real estate, tax incentives, Syria, CA high speed rail, Jerry Brown, state budgets, etc… I’m exhausted trying to keep up even at a half-ass 15% level. Fuck. I so need to step up my game. Shit’s REALLY getting real!