Friday, December 30, 2005
Me: "Excuse me, miss. Would you mind taking a picture of the both of us?"
Her: "Umm, no. I don't feel like doing it and I don't want to take your picture either."
Me: "Well, thanks anyway."
Ouch! Sorry I asked! So we were quite afraid of asking anyone else to take a picture of us after that encounter with the devil.
But that's not the worse blow off I have encountered since I've been in lovely Hawaii...read on.
We decided to go hike the "10-things-you-must-do-in-Hawaii" Diamondhead Mountain (see picture above, which is a view from the top of the mountain). We found our way to Diamondhead area, but couldn't find the main entrance area where we pay for admission and parking. So we decided to stop the car and ask a "local" for directions. A jogger came into view and he was heading straight for us, so we decided to ask him for directions.
My friend: "Sir, excuse me, sir. Can you tell us how to get to the entrance of Diamond...."
Jogger cuts her off: "No, I can't. I'm running" and he keeps on running.
All of us in the car stare at one another, stunned at his rudeness. We were afraid to ask anyone else for directions after that.
Who said Hawaiians had the nicest people on Earth? Someone lied to that person.
1. Walk up and down a few of the terminals. I got off of Terminal 8 and my connecting flight was in Terminal 6. So when I learned of the five hour delay, I took a stroll up and down each terminal. There’s lots of food shops and knick knack stores to look at in Terminal 7; there was a Ruby Tuesdays and Cinnabon in Terminal six, and also a Starbucks; Terminal 8 was pretty boring because there’s really nothing there.
2. Take out a book that you packed and read it. My book this evening was “Ray in Reverse.” Approximately 250 pages and took me an hour to complete. Okay, so I had read the first 50 pages at SJC, but still 200 pages in an hour is pretty fast.
3. Go to Starbucks and buy a peppermint hot chocolate to try to warm yourself, especially your frozen fingers from keeping the book open while you’re reading.
4. Listen to the whole soundtrack to of “The Last Samurai” on your iPod Nano or similar device. In fact, listen to it twice.
5. Walk around looking for a working outlet to charge your laptop.
6. Walk around and count every Dell laptop that you see (14!)
7. Observe the family of 10 adults running after their 10 children trying to prevent the boys from poking the girls’ eyes out with the toy swords (plastic toy swords are allowed on airplanes?).
8. Observe fellow passengers look at the United departure screen, search for Honolulu flight #935, then exclaim “FUCK! A FIVE HOUR DELAY?” or “YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” This is still quite amusing even after you have seen it for the tenth time.
9. Go to a different restroom every time you have to answer to the call of nature.
10. Observe fellow passengers line up at the ticket counter four hours before the new departure time, hoping that a United agent will come and tell them this delay is all a dream.
11. Go search terminal after terminal to find an actual living, breathing, United Airlines agent. Good luck with that!
12. Go into the candy store and pick out all the red Sour Patch Kids. This task is much easier to do when they have tongs for you to use.
13. Observe plane after plane pulling into your designated gate, watch people get off the plane and then watch the plane pull away. “That plane is available! Why can’t it take us to Hawaii?”
14. Slowly eat your red Sour Patch Kids. First biting off the head, and then the legs, finishing off with the bodies. To make it more gruesome, say “No, no, please don’t eat me” out loud before taking a bit of the head and responding to yourself “Yummy.” People will start to stare, but hey, you’re contributing to the people watching industry.
15. Pull out another book and attempt to finish reading before the supposed boarding time in an hour.
16. Scream “Hallelujah” when the United agent finally announces that it’s time for boarding.
How to pass the time on a six hour flight:
-- Drink water.
My airplane travel started at 3:00pm at SJC. It ended at my final destination at 1:45am Honolulu time.
Thank goodness my return flight is a direct flight to SFO.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Monday, December 26, 2005
Avoid the grocery stores at all costs on Christmas Eve.
Avoid Walmart at 5:30pm on Christmas Eve at all costs (half hour before closing time).
Avoid the parking lots at these places. Or be prepared to circle around for 20 minutes looking for a spot, or stalking other people hoping they lead you to their car but only find out they're taking you around in circles for the fun of it.
Avoid making eye contact with other shoppers on Christmas Eve. One look will make that stressed out shopper take his/her holiday cheer out on you: "I know you ain't got more important business than me, so hold your horses!" ; "Don't you dare take that candlestick, I saw it first from three aisles away." ; "I have to pay an extra $4 for an inflated basketball? What kind of &%*) is that?"
If you must visit the mall/grocery store/Walmart on Christmas Eve, wear comfortable shoes and be prepared to wait 30 minutes in the Express Check-out lane.
Avoid the mall at all costs the day after Christmas. Unless you are able to make it to the mall at 7am, it's not worth it. People are still under holiday stress. Only now, they have gift cards for fuel!
Avoid driving to the mall the day after Christmas.
Avoid the parking lots the day after Christmas.
Avoid the Apple Store the day after Christmas. 20 minutes of waiting in line just to make an exchange. It wasn't too bad of a wait when I discovered I could surf the web from one of their computers (the Boy had to wait in line--hee hee).
And if I had to be at the airport on any of these days, I'd probably say avoid the airport at all costs too.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
The scene: Five people (the actors above) crammed into a small Toyota (Camry, I think?) going from Vacaville to the Boy's Aunt's house in Novato. The Boy is driving and his step-brother is in the front passenger seat. The Boy's sister, his mother and I are squished together in the back.
How to give the Boy's mother a heart attack:
***Everytime we're going downhill, the Boy's step-brother and sister raises their arms in the air screaming "ahhhhh!" as if they're on a roller coaster ride. Even scarier when the Boy lets go of the steering wheel to join in. Naturally, the Boy's mother screams: "All of you stop it! You're going to kill us!"
***Everytime we pass by a body of water (i.e. pond, lake or ocean), someone opens the windows all the way down and shouts "water, we're passing by water, please prepare your life vests." Keep in mind the weather was rainy and about 50 degrees.
***Whenever the Boy's mother would tell him to slow down or be careful switching lanes, comments that followed were:
-- "Oh no, watch out, there's one car in front of us."
-- "Come on Toyota, we gotta catch up with the three cars in front of us."
-- "I see red flashing lights!"
-- "Wait, there's blue flashing lights too!"
-- "Wow, that old time Buick just passed us."
-- "Can't you go any faster than 50 mph?"
-- "Watch out for the turtle on the road. Oh wait, that's us."
***Whenever the Boy's mother threatened to take over the driving, comments that followed were:
-- the Boy: "oh no, kill us all now. It'll save some time and suffering."
-- step-brother: "Okay okay, slow down. I'd rather have Quyen drive than let you get into the driver's seat."
-- the Boy: "Hell no. Quyen can't drive either!"
-- sister: "we're doomed."
-- me: "Hey! I have a very clean driving record, thank you very much."
-- the Boy: "That's because you never drive."
-- step-brother: "If [the Boy's mother] drives, we'll never get to your aunt's house."
And that was just on the ride to his aunt's house. I was suffering from a food coma on the ride back to his mother's house, so I kinda tuned out all the ragging on his mother's nagging. By the time we got home, the Boy said to me: "Why did you and my sister fall asleep and make us boys suffer like that? My mom wouldn't stop talking!"
Oh what fun it is to ride in the company of the Boy's family.
Well, the smell of a brand new house is a gazillion times better than that! And with that, the determination of not leaving a mess around is a gazillion times more also.
The Boy hosted Christmas Eve at his brand new spanking house. The only furniture in the house was his bed and the only electronic gadget was his tv and dvd player. Yep, there was no fridge. As I type this, there is still no fridge in his house. The Boy's "fridge" for the dinner was a small Walmart cooler with ice in it. And we only kept the drinks in there. And since there was no fridge, that meant that we had to do grocery shopping two hours before dinner was scheduled for. Grocery shopping at Safeway at 5pm on Christmas Eve is NOT A GOOD IDEA. I made the Boy wait in line while I went around collecting all the ingredients for a spaghetti dinner. By the time I got the last item, there were still five people in front of us. And let's just say all the other grocery shoppers were not in a festive mood either. I was squeezing between carts and people going in and out of rows and there was this one lady who actually slowed down and would not let me squeeze pass her to get to the bread aisle. I had to back track and go down the milk aisle and take the long way around.
Anyway, since the Boy's sister was not yet at his house by the time we returned with groceries, cooking dinner became my responsibility. Now, when the Boy is at my house, he does not interrupt me while I am cooking. And, most importantly, he leaves the dishes around, throws his socks and shoes whereever he wants, and pretty much leaves a trail of mess behind him. At his brand new house, however, the Boy becomes the Mr. Clean from hell.
"Quinny, you better make sure you don't splatter that oil on my brand new stove."
"Quinny, you better not spill the sauce all over the stove."
"Quinny, you better cover the stove rack with foil before you put that garlic bread on there."
"Quinny, I see oil splatters on the stove."
"Quinny, I see oil spots on the floor."
"If you keep Quinnying me I'm gonna throw this spaghetti sauce on your carpet! I'll wipe down everything with 401 after we're finished with dinner! Goodness you're crazy."
Once I finished cooking dinner, he made everyone huddle around the kitchen island to eat their spaghetti. His poor little nephew couldn't quite reach the counter and couldn't take his cookie back to the living room where the TV was either. The Boy almost had a heart attack when his nephew almost tripped with a can of Coke in his hand.
Mr. Clean from hell didn't stop there.
"Quinny, make sure you clean out the tub after your bath."
"Quinny, make sure you don't leave any water marks on the shower. Use the squiggee."
"Quinny, put your clothes in the closet. Don't make a pile on the floor."
Oh it wasn't just Quinny this and Quinny that all night. He did it to everyone.
"Take off your shoes! This is an Asian house now."
"Don't you leave my kitchen with that plate of food in your hands!"
"You better not give your son anything to throw in my house!"
"Stay away from the walls, I don't want you marking it up!"
So the Boy's family and I took a bet that his Mr. Clean tirade won't last longer than a month. But then we were wondering how the Boy will handle the situation when he rents out his house to complete strangers who will surely not give a damn about his brand new house.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Festivities started at the office at 11:30, which means the catered food was set out in the main conference room, the booze was chilled and flowing, the office phones were turned off and the office was closed for the rest of the day.
The food was a bit interesting. Other than it being catered "potluck" food, there really wasn't a theme going on. There were crabcakes (not good), battered shrimp (really not good), chicken terriyaki on a stick (so-so), some kind of carrot rolled in a slice of beef on stick (don't know how it tasted because it was still bleeding and I don't eat bloody meat), sushi (ehh), and fresh veggies to dip in ranch. Although I tried out a little bit of everything (except for the bloody beef thing), I pigged out mostly on carrots and cucumbers and ranch dressing. There was a dessert plate of brownies, blondies, lemon bars and vanilla cake, but I didn't induldge because it wasn't too tasty.
After muching on food at the office, the staff and attorneys walked over to the Yerba Buena Gardens to continue the holiday festivities with a couple of hours of bowling. These people I work with are sure competitive in nature. Even though the majority of us sucked at bowling (I mean we sucked big time!), we were all talking smack and trying to ruin the other's concentration. In the first game, I lost to the Managing Partner by two points ("I only let you win because you're the Boss Man."). In the second game, I beat out the Junior Associate ("Guess who's getting a bunch of work dumped on her desk tomorrow."). Then the third game was men vs. women, and let's say that didn't work out quite well. The men were scoring 275 points after Round 5 and the women were only scoring 125! The women were only barely catching up by scoring 245 after Round 8 when the pre-paid time ran out and the bowling managers didn't allow us to continue (the men didn't bowl past Round 5 because they were bowling so hard that they broke the pin setter/re-setter thingy at the end).
It wasn't a traditional firm holiday party, but I sure enjoyed this much more. Boss Man joked that next year we're all going to New York for skating in Rockefeller Center.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Sunday, December 18, 2005
I was cleaning in the kitchen when the Boy was feeding cat drugs to Fatty Catty. As I walked back towards the bedroom, this is what I found:
The Boy put the cat nip on the second shelf. Fatty Catty saw this and pounced up trying to open the jar. And when I tried to take it away, she tried to swipe at me! What the heck is in this cat nip?
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Macys was especially crowded because they had a huge sale, an extra 10% off your entire purchase--that's on top of the 40-50% off they already discounted on most items. This sale allowed the Boy to buy his mother a really nice Calphalon nonstick pan at half the cost of the original price (for those who are not cooking enthusiasts, Calphalon is the Seven Jeans of cookware). The sale also allowed the Boy to splurge on himself with new bedding for his new house. Hotel Collection king size down comforter--$560; Charter Club king size down filled pillow, firm--$120; total price the Boy paid after discounts and gift cards he accumulated from work--$141.02. Told you it was a good sale.
Of course the Boy wasn't the only one shopping for himself. With the great bonus I got from work, I decided to spoil myself for once by visiting the Apple store and joining the iPod nation with the purchase of a sleek iPod Nano in black.
It was pretty cool that we spent an exactly five minutes in the Apple store. There was this express iPod station where you tell them which iPod you want, then they ring you up with this portable credit card machine the size of a brick and email the receipt to you. Pick, scan, and leave with product in hand.
It's so pretty and so small. I haven't been able to put it down. I put all of my songs on it, plus some of the Boy's songs and I still have over a gig left of space on this 2G thing. Guess I'm not one of those hard core music lovers.
And if you're thinking about getting a sound dock for your iPod, the Bose system is the way to go. The quality of the sound is worth the price of the Bose. And don't bother looking for any deals. I tried and failed. But at least the Boy is happy with his early Christmas gift.
I love my Nano!
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
1. Work slows down A LOT. Instead of running around like a mad-chicken-with-its-head-cut-off trying to meet deadlines, I have time to sit and enjoy a cup of tea while reading the news online.
2. It means the year is almost over and a new year is soon to start!
3. Vendors that we use keep sending us goodies all month long (cookies, chocolates, sandwiches, calendars, pastries, keep it coming!).
4. Lawsuits get settled b/c peeps are looking for some quick x-mas money.
5. I now have time to blog!
6. Holiday parties -- nothing's better than seeing the people you work with make drunken fools of themselves.
7. Having photographic evidence of all those drunken fools at holiday parties.
8. SHOPPING! Okay, this is good all year round, but it's just a more meaningful experience for me to be able to spend 4 hours at the mall hunting for that specific snowman print pajamas for that special person who will shout "YAY! JUST WHAT I WANTED!" when they open it.
9. Did I mention the cookies? Yes? Well, bonuses at work makes a good December too.
10. Only fifteen more days until my trip to HAWAII!!
Sunday, December 11, 2005
I really like this orange blanket. It's really nice to nap on.
It's also Mommy's favorite blanket to use for naps.Why are you interrupting my nap for pictures, Mommy?
I'm tired now. I'm going back to sleep.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
I've been missing the snow since I moved here from the East Coast (I just miss the snow, I still do not miss the freaking cold weather). And this show brought such a big smile to my face. Yay!
Okay, the snow glee is out of my system now. Oh, White Christmas is a wonderful musical and you should go see it if you get a chance. It snows!
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Me: I don't want to go in there.
BF: Come on, let's just go take a look around.
Me: Why? You'll never get me a ring from there. Ha ha. You'll never get me a ring period.
BF: Well, we know that, but let's just take a look anyways.
Me: We're dressed in jeans, we can't walk into Tiffany's like this.
BF: Come on. We're not the only one dressed in jeans. Let's go take a look. You've never been in here before.
So we walk into Tiffany's and everything I saw was so sparkly and shiny. There were diamonds everywhere. Big ones, little ones, necklaces, tennis bracelets, and oh the diamond rings. The solitaire, the three diamond anniversary ring, princess cut, emerald cut, F grade, G grade, sparkly, sparkly shiny shiny diamonds everywhere.
Me: Oh, they're so shiny!
BF: Of course, it's Tiffany's diamonds. These are the best.
Me: Oh, this is so mean of you to tease me like this.
BF: That's right. You can look but don't get attached. Like I told you before...
Me: If I want a diamond ring, get a new boyfriend. yeah yeah, I know. But these are so shiny...
So of course I had to share this experience with the Boy's father. I called him up a few days later and told him what his son did.
BF's dad: Qui Qui? How are you doing?
Me: I'm well. But you won't believe what you're son did this weekend.
BF's dad: What did he do?
Me: He took me into Tiffany's!
BF's dad: He did?! Ohh. Did you buy anything?
Me: Well, that was just it. He just let me take a look around. We didn't buy anything.
BF's dad: Wait, did you want to go into Tiffany's?
Me: Oh no, he was the one nudging me in there. I said I didn't want to go, but he kept pushing me in.
BF's dad: Oh, well that's new. This is a big step for him then.
Me: Oh please. We both know he's just toying around with me. You know what he said once we were inside?
BF's dad: What?
Me: "You can look but don't get attached because if you want a diamond ring, you're not getting it from me."
BF's dad is laughing: Qui Qui, he's probably trying to surprise you. You two belong together forever.
Me: Ha Ha, [BF], you're dad says we belong together forever! I think we're a long way from forever, sir.
BF's dad: He told me that he wants to get you a 3.5 carat diamond.
Me: You know why he wants to get me a 3.5 carat diamond? So he can legally have it back if our engagement breaks up.
BF's dad is laughing harder: He did say that!
Me: Oh you know he would and he did.
BF's dad: Oh, he doesn't mean it when he says he won't buy you a diamond ring. Just you wait, he'll get around to it. You two will be together for always.
Me: Okay, here's [BF]. He wants me to get off the phone with you now.
As soon as I hand the phone over to the Boy, he tells his father: "Father, don't you go feeding stories to her. You know the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
Oh, I still can't get over the sparkly diamonds. It reminds me of the engagement scene from the movie "Sweet Home Alabama." If only I had a romantic boyfriend to propose to me inside Tiffany's and let me choose the ring. A girl can dream. *sigh*
Saturday, December 03, 2005
7:30am - leave SF and drive to Millbrae where test center is located.
8:00am - get to test center, Marriott Hotel, and stand in line to be checked in for test (note: there was already 50 people in front of me and 50 quickly lining up behind me).
9:00am - finally get checked in for test and proceed to ballroom where test will be administered.
9:30am - been waiting for 30 minutes, and still waiting for the proctors to finish checking everyone in.
10:30am - proctors finally start reading instructions for the LSAT
2:30pm - finish writing portion of the LSAT which means finished with the LSAT exam!
3:45pm - arrive home, ready for lunch and a nap.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Me: Aww, that's sweet of you. It's slow at work, so I'm looking up hotel information.
BF: Why are you looking up hotel information?
Me: Researching where we can stay when we go to the Aerosmith concert in San Jose.
BF: The concert's not until February, right?
BF: Aren't you planning a little too far in advanced?
Me: I know it's far away, but just wanted to see what hotels are in the area.
BF: Don't plan so far ahead.
BF: That's going into 2006 territory. You don't know if we'll still be together by then.
Me: Aw, crap. That's right!
BF: hee hee!
Me: I have to worry about our relationship surviving Christmas first!
BF: New year, new girl!
Me: Lord, why me?
Thursday, December 01, 2005
BF: Yes, I did. It's delicious. I had to share because I opened it in the war room, so the attorneys liked it too. They thought you were very sweet and was teasing me for the note you wrote on it.
Me: My "honeybuns, hope you like the bread" note? ha ha. With a note like that, I guess you can't say that your "good friend" sent you the bread.
BF: Oh no, she's going on about the "good friend" thing again.
Me: Well, that's how you introduced me at Thanksgiving..."Who's that? Oh, she's my 'good friend.'" and you used the finger quotes and the eye wink with that.
BF: What's wrong with "good friend"? Isn't that what "GF" stands for? Good friend?
Me: No, GF stands for girlfriend, and BF stands for boyfriend. What would BF stand for if we were going by your "good friend" translation?
BF: Better Friend!
Me: Oh gosh. "Hi, I'm his 'good friend' and he's my 'better friend'." This is how I'm going to introduce you now? With finger quotes and all?
BF: Yep, isn't it cute?
Me w/ voice of sarcasm: Adorable!
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
After leaving Jellies at home alone for 3 days, I think she's getting a little more plump. She's not bony to the touch anymore, and plus I notice that she feels heavier when she sleeps on my stomach. Makes me wonder about my boyfriend's comment: "Why does every living thing you own end up getting fat?" Food is good!
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Boyfriend Quote of the Day: "Stop reading! It's not healthy for you! Reading causes cancer! You know you would enjoy the movie more if you didn't have to compare every scene to the book. They can't fit 700 pages into 2 hours!" (He's referring to Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. I haven't told him that I have been reading Memoirs of a Geisha yet...)
Monday, November 28, 2005
So, after reporting my running shoes as lost on Saturday morning, we proceeded to the spa to continue to pamper ourselves with a massage and body wrap. Now, I am uncomfortable with strange men touching my body, even if it is in a professional setting like a doctor's office or a spa facility. So, I was quite surprised to see a male masseuse waiting for me in the treatment room. I had also had a male specialist work on my facial on Friday, but he was clearly gay so I didn't care. My masseuse, however, was not clearly gay, so the entire time he was "massaging" my body, all I could think about was whether or not he was gay, whether this constitutes as cheating, whether or not I should enjoy this massage or be wracked with guilt that a strange man is touching my body. It was even weirder when he started digging his fingers into my butt...I mean, it felt good, but it also hurt like hell because my glutes were still sore from a workout two days ago. In comparing this male masseuse to the female one I last had, he was more forceful with his motions, therefore resulting in getting deeper into my sore muscles, which was good. In the end, however, I didn't enjoy the massage as much as I could have because I couldn't confirm whether he was gay or not.
After my massage, I waited for my seaweed body wrap. You can imagine my surprise when my gay facialist was waiting for me in another treatment room. Okay, I didn't care that a gay man was working on my face, but having him see me naked was another thing, even if he is gay. Anyhow, I felt rushed throughout the process and seaweed stinks, but the sixteen head shower was pretty cool.
I later learned from my friend that they had disposable panties for the body wrap so the exfoliant/scrub/pasty thing didn't ruin your real undies. I was not offered the disposable panties from my gay facialist/beautician/dude. I was buck naked. This discovery did not make me feel any better.
Upon our return from the spa, I decided to call the guests in Room 799 to ask about my size 7 Aasics running shoes, with red paint in the left shoe, that I left in a small black bag in the closet of Room 799. After a day of shopping at the Napa Premium Outlets, watching the Christmas parade in downtown Napa, spending oodles of money at Wal-Mart, and watching RENT at the movies (never seen the theater version but I hope it's much better than the corny movie), we return to our room with absolutely no message from the Resort or the Guests from Room 799 about my shoes.
So before we checked out of the resort on Sunday, I first call the Guests in Room 799 to ask about my shoes. When there was no answer, I call the front desk to ask about the shoes again and they had my shoes! It was turned in by the Guests of Room 799 on Saturday evening! And they didn't think to call to tell me about it??? WTF??
Well, I finally get my shoes back and we pack up to head home. We had lunch in the downtown Napa where we also visited numerous chocolate stores (mint chocolate truffle is yummy).
Overall, it could have been a better weekend.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
So my friend and I reserved this weekend to pamper ourselves at the Silverado Resort and Spa for the weekend. We arrived two hours before check in time so that we can explore the resort, enjoy the pool, maybe sit in the jacuzzi for half an hour before our first spa appointment. HA. That, apparantly was too much to ask for.
2pm: We check in at the resort and everything is going well. They assign us to a standard, cozy king-size bedroom. There's a phone, a tv, a mini-bar and wireless internet--what else could we want? So I had my laptop with me to aid us in looking up directions and finding things to do around Napa. Who needs to prepare weeks beforehand when you can look things up on the spot? That's what a laptop and INTERNET is for, right? Well, when we tried to connect my laptop to the wireless network, there was absolutely no signal (no available networks). After calling the front desk and the internet provider, both of whom were no help, we decided to take my laptop for a little walking expedition since the Resort boasted that we could even access the internet at poolside.
2:30pm: Okay, so lugging my 10 lb laptop to the pool, we were able to get it to recognize that there is a wireless network available but the signal was still too weak to connect to it. So then we lugged my laptop to the "Mansion", the place where we first checked-in and tried getting a wireless signal there. Lo and behold it worked! Excellent strength and everything! But before we decided to pay for the $9.99/24 hour internet usage, we wanted to see if we could change rooms so that we were located closer to the Mansion because it seemed that the closer we were to the Mansion, the better the wireless signal.
2:45pm: Being the accommodating Resort, the nice, blond lady at the front desk tells us that Room 499 is available. But before we agree to change rooms, we lug my laptop to where Room 499 is located to check the wireless signal. A full four bars, which is great! So just to be sure, we walk around the area to make sure the wireless signal was still strong, and it was. We walk back and tell the nice blond lady that we do want to switch rooms and we'll take Room 499. But oh no, she gives us the keys to Room 451. We figure it's in the area of 499 so we take all our things out of Room 799 and move into Room 451.
3:15 pm: Upon arriving at Room 451, we realize they gave us a Suite instead of a Standard room. There was a separate living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. We thought they gave us a free upgrade and were very excited about it. But then we thought maybe they thought that we wanted a bigger room instead of a room with better a wireless signal. Not wanting to go through the drama of having to argue with the Manager over the higher charges for the room, we call the front desk and ask the blond lady if she assigned us the Suite on purpose. She thought we were assigned to a Suite earlier so therefore she gave us another Suite. We asked if we would get charged more, and she said yes. So then we asked to get a Standard room and wait for her to call us back and give us another room, Room 431, and a bell boy comes by a few minutes later to give us the room key.
3:45 pm: We see the bellboy drive up and run out to meet him and grab the keys and then walked around in a circle to find Room 431. We saw the room, but we didn't see a real door. So we circled the building in an attempt to find a real door (Room 431 had one of those patio doors that slides instead of opening like a real door). As soon as we figured out there was no real door, we walk towards the sliding door, with key in hand, to attempt to open it. You won't believe what happened next. Another bellboy was opening the door to Room 431 and helping two other guests with their luggage. They were going into Room 431. And it didn't look like they were gonna go out. So we asked the bellboy if that was indeed Room 431. He agreed and we cried "NOOOO!!"
4:00 pm: The bellboy took our bags and gave us a ride back to the Mansion, where we hunt down the blond lady and inform her that someone already checked into Room 431 as we got there. She apologized and went to investigate why that happened. Something about a computer system switching over, some laughing in the back, and the blond lady assigned us to yet another room, room #4, Room #498. The bellboy helps us with our luggage and gives us a ride to Room 498. It's located upstairs and we follow the bellboy as he's carrying our luggage to our room. To all of our surprise, my friend, the bellboy and I, Room 498 was in no livable condition because it wasn't cleaned yet. My friend and I were about ready to kill someone. The bellboy calls the front desk, tells them what happened and adds that they should assign us the presidential suite for the troubles we've gone through. No such thing happened.
4:15 pm: The blond lady calls back and tells the bellboy to take us to our fifth room, #444. So we all hop back into the golf cart and ride on over to #444, where we tell the bellboy to check the room first because we didn't feel like getting off for no reason. He tells us the room is decent and looks fine. We give the room glance over and agree that it's fine, mainly because we had a 5pm spa appointment and we had to be there a half hour early. So we throw our things in the room but the bellboy tells us that he has to go to the front desk to grab our room keys so we had to wait for him to return. About ten minutes later, he returns with the keys so we can lock our patio door and he whisks us to the spa. We got there at 4:30 but we were so not relaxed.
Our first spa treatment for the weekend was decent. My 50 minute facial sure wasn't worth the $120 price, and my friend's deep tissue massage worth the price either. However, we had a great dinner at a tapas restaurant in town and enjoyed Harry Potter 4 (it skipped so many chapters that everything seemed to happen so quickly!).
Upon waking up this morning, I realized that I didn't have my running shoes. As I was re-tracing my steps, I realized that I had left my sneakers in the closet of Room #799, the first room we were in. Of course these things only happen to me.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
I made mashed potatoes for the first time in my life. I think the cranberry sauce came from a can.
Green Bean Casserole--a bit creamy for my liking but good, nonetheless. And cranberry sauce.
And of course, the Turkey.
And we are all suffering from a food coma. Naptime.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
"I don't know if you know this, but MUNI loves you. I love you. I don't know if you love MUNI, but MUNI loves you very much. God bless, have a nice day and a very Happy Thanksgiving."
The first time he said it, we all smiled and thought "how sweet and kind." But then he kept making the announcement at every single stop. So after the tenth stop, most of us were wondering if he wasn't just a bit tipsy this morning.
On a Thanksgiving note, I'll be having my first traditional turkey dinner tomorrow. Whoo-hoo! Looking forward to seeing what a real oven baked turkey looks like. And then there's pie. yummy thoughts
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
2. At the first sign of sunshine and 70 degree forecasts from the weatherman, wear a simple skirt and fitted top and some comfortable work pumps. No need to go all out, just show some leg.
3. Go to work on sunny 70 degree weather day, smile and say "Thank you" as your co-workers compliment you on how pretty you look in a skirt and ask why you are suddenly so dressed up ("Does someone have a special date tonight?").
I guess I'll have a special date every night this week if the nice weather keeps up for the week. =)
Anyhow, this cartoon is funny, but if you're easily offended by racial jokes, I suggest you don't click on the link. And for all those who wants a laugh, click here for a short demonstration of how to make Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup aka Pho.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Sentences in Cantonese:
1. Ngoh daaih bihn.
2. Ngoh mh daaih bihn.
3. Neih daaih mh daaih bihn a?
4. Neih daaih bihn ma?
5. Neih daaih gan bihn.
6. Neih daaih jo bihn.
7. Neih wuih daaih bihn.
8. Neih daaih mh daaih gan bihn a?
9. Neih daaih jo bihn meih a?
The following is the book's English translation of the above sentences:
1. I make a bowel movement.
2. I do not make a bowel movement.
3. Do you make or not make a bowel movement?
4. Do you make a bowel movement?
5. You are making a bowel movement.
6. You made a bowel movement already.
7. You will make a bowel movement.
8. Are you making a bowel movement?
9. Have you made a bowel movement?
These are the actual words used when one of the students translated the above sentences into English:
1. I shit.
2. I do not shit.
3. Do you shit or not?
4. Do you shit?
5. You are shitting.
6. You have shitted.
7. You will shit.
8. Are you shitting?
9. Have you shitted?
I kid you not. He used those exact words in translating. The teacher could not stop because his mouth was kept open in shock.
Friday, November 11, 2005
BF: "He needs to go out and hump the world!"
Me: "But he's married. He's settled down. He CHOSE to get married."
BF: "He was forced! What a waste! He still needs to hump the world!"
Me: "Oh, is that your philosophy too? Do you have to go hump the world?"
BF: "Oh no, sweetie, this doesn't apply to me. I have you and you're all I need." [and then he turns around and fakes gagging.]
This conversation was about his college friend who just got married recently.
BF's friend: "I'm a charming person, with standards. I don't just date anyone. Your BF, however, wants me to give up those standards and just go for anyone walking down the street."
BF: "That's right. Who needs standards? Hump the world!"
Me: "No standards? Does this no-standard-hump-the-world policy apply to you?"
BF: "Of course not! Who needs the world when I have you!" [again, he fakes gagging.]
BF's friend: "How do you put up with him?"
Me: "Usually, my answer would be 'I don't know." but since he's been working so much, I haven't had to put up with him."
BF: "All her friends always ask 'How, and why, do you put up with him?' Heck, all my peeps and my family asks her the same question."
Me: "Because you're the sweetest, most cutest person in the world and all I want to do is squeeze you tight!" [as I'm pinching his cheeks and saying this in the most sickening lovey dovey voice ever."
About his upcoming Vegas trip:
Me: "Your brother is going now too? Oh great. Are you going to act like you don't have a girlfriend?"
BF: "Oh no, I'll still have a girlfriend. I'll just cheat on her."
Me: "FINE! Let me make it easier for you. We're through!"
BF: "aww, isn't she so cute. She's trying to make a stand. You're so adorable!"
How can you get angry at someone if they don't take your anger seriously, and their terms of endearment ends up making you laugh?
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Joke #1: Golfing
Two men are out golfing and they both hear a funeral procession nearby. As the minister is leading the mourners to the gravesite, one of the golfers kneals down and bows in prayer. The other golfer was touched by this action and says to his fellow golfer: "That is so kind of you to bow down in prayer. I didn't know you were so spiritual."
The other man replied: "Well, it's the least I could do. I was married to her for the last 40 years."
The moral of this joke is that a paralegal should not devote his/her entire life in supporting his/her attorney. It's only a "working" relationship. Don't drop everything for a dollar. Learn how to say "NO."
Joke #2: Hunting
Two men are out hunting deer in the woods when one man suddenly collapses onto the ground. The other hunter pulls out his cell phone and calls 911.
911 Operator: This is 911. What is your emergency?
Man: Hello? I need some help. My friend collapsed and I think he's dead.
911 Operator: Ok sir, calm down. First, we have to make sure that he is really dead.
there is silence on the line, and then it's followed by a gun's BOOM!
Man: Okay, what's next?
The moral of this joke is that one must always use common sense and NOT FREAK OUT!
After 7.5 hours of listening about document production, digital imaging, trial presentation software, we get a personalized "Certificate of Completion" as proof that we did actually attend and learned from this seminar. And in addition to people not being able to say my name, some apparantly can't read and copy the spelling either. Today, my last name was Thile. At least they spelled my first name correctly.
Boyfriend quote of the week: "I don't know when I'll have time to see you while I'm working on this trial so I'm not making any committments to see you. Don't count on me to show up for any pre-scheduled cuddle time. Just assume that I won't be able to visit. That way, it'll be a surprise if I actually do show up. And then you can tell everyone how you always get 'surprise' visits from me!"
Monday, October 31, 2005
5 nurses, 4 slutty ones
4 waitresses, all slutty
3 babies, all of whom were males with big beer guts
3 HOes (sluts, whores, prostitutes--pick one). oh wait, excuse me, they were Anime characters.
2 policemen, one in tight shorts
1 fat man dressed as a pregnant woman
1 George Dubya
1 Dick Cheney
1 dick--not kidding ya.
All this on one train ride from downtown to the Castro (approximately 4 stops). Only in San Francisco...
Some Halloween fun for those who dare to click here.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Disclaimer: I'm not trying to be mean or insensitive, but apologies to anyone finds this insulting. These are things that some people just should not do.
-- women wearing only a sports bra, bearing their midriff, especially when their midriff sticks out farther than their breasts
-- a group shower that reminds you of high-school
-- women walking around naked in the locker room while they blow-dry their hair, weigh themselves, use the bathroom...come on ladies, have some decency to cover up! some of us are shy, and most of us just don't want to see you naked, especially if you're not fit to be seen naked.
-- running/riding/working out next to a person whose body odor only increases with each minute of work out
-- waiting forever for an exercise machine only to find puddles of sweat surrounding it. people, wipe up after yourselves!
-- men wearing a teeny tiny Speedo while doing laps in the pool. Speedos are not for everyone.
-- thin, white spandex pants
-- a red thong under thin, white spandex pants
-- people with cellulite wearing a red thong under thin, white spandex pants
-- your co-workers undressing in the locker room
-- your boss undressing in the locker room (didn't happen to me, yet...I saw a former boss, but thank goodness she didn't undress then!)
Okay, that's it for now. I know this list will have to be updated later.
I'm off to the gym, even if my poor muscles are protesting right now.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
BF: You have to think about it?!
Me: It's a hard decision. Does giving up cookies also come with a guarantee that you'll stay with me forever?
BF: No, that's a risk you'll have to take.
Me: So if I give up the cookies, you might not stay with me forever?
BF: Yep, that's the risk.
Me: Could I still have other sweets if I gave up all cookies?
BF: Why are we still debating this?
Me: What's the point of giving up cookies forever if there's a risk that you'll leave me in two weeks? I'll need ice-cream to console myself.
BF: Oh gosh! Yes, you can have other sweets like ice-cream and cake if you give up cookies forever.
Me: Alright. If I have to make a choice, I'll give up cookies for life for you, even if there's a risk you may leave me in the next second, but I believe we will be together FOREVER; I believe in us.
BF: oh gosh, I would have given up the cookies for you!
Me: That's because you don't have a sweet tooth.
BF: Well then, if you had a choice of giving up ALL sweets for life or giving me up, what would you choose.
Me: All sweets?
BF: oh gosh, here we go again. Yes, ALL sweets. No cakes, no ice-cream, no cookies, no chocolate, no sugar.
Me: Ummm....that's a tough one.
BF: She values eating more than me!
Me: How about just giving up all forms of chocolate. I can do that. At least I can still eat vanilla cake. I need some form of sugar...
BF: Now she's bargaining! Why me, lord? Why me?
Sunday, October 16, 2005
I started out with four goldfishes, two gold ones (fishy #1 and #2) and two white ones with a red head (fishy #3 and #4). They swam happily in the tank and came swimming to the top whenever I walked up to the tank to feed them. Then two days later, one of the white fishies was floating, belly up at the top of the tank. Fishy #3 (or maybe it was #4) went to fishy heaven. There was a short funeral at the toilet.
Two days after fishy #3's death, I found fishy #4 floating belly up at the top of the tank. Perhaps it was lonely without it's mate and decided to join it in fishy heaven. After another fishy funeral at the toilet, I took a look at my tank to see what was wrong with it. The remaining two goldfishes looked fine and were swimmingly back and forth. I noticed the water was a little green so I decided to change the water, added some more clearing liquids, anti-fungus liquids and stuff to make the water the right pH level.
About a week after I changed the water, fishy #2 was floating belly up at the top of the tank, and there was another flushing at the toilet. This time, however, I noticed that fishy #1 was nipping at dead fishy #2 when I discovered its death. At the time, however, I didn't give much thought to this discovery.
Thinking that fishy #1 was all alone swimming by himself, I went out and bought another goldfish. Fishy #5 lasted one week before he joined the others in fishy heaven. At this point, my BF suggested that fishy #1 was a killer goldfish who was selfish and was trying to keep the whole tank to himself. I laughed at this suggestion and thought it foolish that my BF would even think that goldfish can commit homicide. Well, replacement fishies #6 and #7 each lasted about a week, in that order. And fishy #1 was also nipping at it when I found each dead fish. (I also added an algae sucker, fishy #8, but it died after I changed the water.) I was beginning to think maybe killer goldfishes do exist, and believe it or not, a Google search brought back many results! Killer goldfish DO exist. And they kill because: 1) they're horny and ready to mate, so they fight off other male fishes; 2) they're mentally insane from an ick fungus infection; 3) they just territorial.
Well, fishy #1 met his match with replacement fishy #9. I decided to buy a much larger replacement to perhaps deter fishy #1 from any more murders. Unfortunately, both fishes fought each other to the death. This is my theory: Fish #1 wanted to kill for his territory and thus attacked fishy #9. However, being larger than fishy #1, fishy #9 fought back for his safety. The end result was two fishies floating belly up in my tank, a duel funeral at the toilet, and an empty fishtank for me.
Since I no longer had any fishies, killer goldfish or otherwise, I decided to start all over again, but much more slowly. I added fishy #10, a black moor, and it lived happily for a month. I spotted some white spots on it's fin and figured that it had ick, a fungus, and treated it for that. Since it survived the month, I figured it was a good time to introduce a friend, fishy #11, the gold goldfish. The two got along quite well, considering that it was both fairly the same size. They didn't nip at one another. Fishy #11 survived a month in the tank with fishy #10 and I decided to add another fish, particularly an algae eater so that it can help with the algae growth, so basically a cleaner for the tank. Fishy #12 was added and all three has since flourished in the tank. I also got a new filter that is so powerful, I haven't had to change the water for months!
Going through all those fishies and a killer goldfish, I didn't want to name them because I didn't want to get attached if they died. Well, since fishy #10, 11 & 12 have lived for nearly six months now, and don't seem to be dying off anytime soon, I thought it was only proper to finally give them names. And here they are:
Meet Lola, fishy #11. For some odd reason, she likes to float belly up near the top of the tank. Yeah, I thought she was dead when I saw this for the first time. She usually floats belly up after eating too. It's really funny to watch her swim to the bottom of the tank, flip over and then just let the bubbles float an upside-down fish floating to the top.
This is Ally (short for algae eater), fishy #12. Yes, that's right. I decided to make my fishes all female. That's why they all get along together. And Ally is not sucking on another algae eater, it's just a reflection from the glass. She rarely leaves the safety of her home: the treasure chest.
Lola and BB playing together. Ally was inside that treasure chest behind them.
BF quote of the day: "I have to work this weekend because I need the overtime to pay your bills. Why don't you put that on your blog?" First, what bills? Second, I will!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
I also received another get well card from the hospital. That's so sweet. Just make sure you don't send me the medical bills. ;-)
~Quotes for the day~
Cartman from South Park: I'm not fat! I'm just big bone-ded.
Me: I'll stop being overly affectionate when you turn gay or you stop liking me.
BF: I'll never do that.
Me: Aww, you're so ...
BF interrupts: I just meant the gay part.
Me: sweee.....what a jerk you are.
From Nip/Tuck, second episode for Season 3:
Kimberly: I guess I'm a little early.
Christian: Hi baby.
Kimberly: Christian, I don't understand what's going on here. This morning you wanted to marry me, and now you're screwing her. Who are you?
Christian: I'm me again baby.
Then Christian invites Kimberly to join in on the act and it turns into a threesome.
Me: Hey, I was just about to call you because I was just thinking of you.
BF: Were you thinking about whether I was going to break up with you?
Me: No, why?
BF: Well then you are having the completely wrong thoughts about me!
Cartman from South Park: I'm not fat! I just haven't grown into my body, [you skinny bitch]!
Me: Don't call me if you're ever stuck in jail.
BF: But why not? I swear I didn't know she was 17!
Me: How many times have I called you a jerk today?
My honey bunny is really sweet, honestly, really he is.. [yes, I have to keep reminding myself there is teeny tiny bit of TLC in him]
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Anyhoo, I got a get-well card from the hospital today, signed by the nurses who tended to me during the surgery. Isn't that nice? I also got a voicemail from the nurses checking up on my condition, "We're calling to follow-up and see how you're doing, but don't call us back if you're having any problems. Call your doctor. DON'T CALL US. CALL HIM." Got the message, thanks!
I'm doing miraculously well for just having a surgery with general anesthesia. After my BF picked me up from the hospital, I kept whining about when we were going to eat. I hadn't eaten anything for over sixteen hours and I woke up from the surgery feeling extra hungry. You'd think the hospital would feed you, but no, all I was got was crackers and cranberry juice. Like that's going to hold me over. So as soon as we leave the hospital, I ask for food. Real food. Hamburgers and french fries, or pad-thai or kentucky fried chicken.
My BF didn't believe that I was hungry, said it was all in my head. He's just jealous of my appetite. He gave me 3/4 of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to shut me up and didn't feed me for another 3 hours, saying that my stomach couldn't handle real food just yet. After his doctor's appointment, he finally gives in and takes me to Burger King because my cravings for french fries turned me into a mad woman yelling "Take me now!" Yes, the boy was afraid and had to give in to my stomach. Boy, that chicken sandwich and two things of fries loaded with ketchup sure tasted good. And no upset stomach afterwards either!
By the time we get to my place, the local anesthesia is wearing off and I begin to feel some pain, but it's tolerable and so I didn't think the pain warranted a whole vicodin pill. So I took half and continue to ice the area. After half an hour or so, I manage to comment to my BF, "I think the ice is working, I don't feel the pain anymore." He's laughing at me and asks "Oh, the ice is it? Are you sure it's not the vicodin?" I still think it's the ice, but I doze off into slumber land which I'm certain is the result of a food coma and the vicodin. I was only able to take a short nap, but that food/vicodin induced sleep sure felt good. And of course I was hungry after I woke up, so made myself some Velvetta shells and cheese for a snack. Yes, I did share some with the Boy.
With bandanges off and all, I'm feeling pretty well and not feeling much pain at all. Well, there's this weird tingly sensation around the wound and I got a little stab of pain when I move my arm into certain positions, but other than that, I'm hunky dory. I'll have to remember to ask the doctor about the tingles. In the end, there's no more lump under my arms, and I still have two breasts in the correct place.
Friday, October 07, 2005
I get to the hospital, check-in with the nurses and just chill out in the waiting room for about an hour before a nurse comes to take me to my “room.” We get to one of the recovery rooms where I see two beds, one that had clearly been occupied by someone else and another bed that looked as if someone sat in it but didn’t completely turn the covers down. The nurse also realizes this so she sends me back out to the waiting room so she can put new sheets on the bed. As soon as she finishes, she comes and gets me to lead me back to that same room but then another nurse goes, “oh she’s assigned to her own room. Someone’s already in that bed.” Great for me, not so good for the nurse who just changed the sheets.
So, in my own private room, I don’t get a bed, I get a reclining chair. I guess they didn’t expect me to completely be immobile after the surgery. I get dressed in the flimsy hospital gown and sit back in the chair, watching Full House and counting down the minutes until I get cut open (1 hour in counting). Another nurse comes by and tells me that it’s time to prepare the IV needle. Before she even pricks me with a needle, I have to sign countless waivers and consent forms (thank goodness power of attorney didn’t come up again) and tell her the last time I ate and peed. Then she tells me that the first prick I’ll feel is the local anesthesia for the IV needle. I’m thinking “cool, anesthetic for an IV? Give it to me then.” But it wasn’t like that. Not only did I feel the first prick from the anesthesia needle, I felt the second, deeper prick of the IV needle. Wtf? I got stabbed twice just for one useful IV line that will keep fluids going through my body?
After she stabs me and leaves a packet of tentacles hanging from my hand, she asks me “So, we’re taking out your left breast, is that correct?” INSERT PANIC AND HYSTERIA HERE: “NOOOO. Remove the lump under my LEFT ARM, not LEFT BREAST. LEAVE THE BREASTS ALONE” And the nurse is looking at my chart as I’m clarifying things to her. Do I need to grab your pen and draw a map under my arm, Nurse? And this is the creepy part, she smiles and says “Good, you’re in a clear state of mind and you know exactly what surgery you’re getting. We just want to double check.” Right. I’m still not feeling confident that you know what I need taken out.
When the time comes for me to “report to surgery”, yet another nurse walks me downstairs to the surgery waiting area. As I’m waiting, my anesthesiologist comes by to introduce himself and starts telling me the procedure of putting me to sleep. “Yes, doctor, I understand, doctor, just make sure I don’t wake up while the other guy is cutting me open.” Then the surgical nurse comes by and asks me if I’m ready. “Sure! Let’s get the party started!” We walk out of the waiting area and I see my doctor. He comes and holds my hand as he walks me towards the operating room explaining the procedure to me. I ask if he’ll prescribe me lots of painkillers for after the surgery. He laughs as he tells me “I’m mean but I’m not Satan. I’ll think about giving you painkillers.” We laugh it off until I stop short in front of the OR doors. OH MY GOODNESS, I’M REALLY GOING THROUGH WITH THIS?
Both the nurse and doctor nudge me towards the operating table. The doctor is taking off my hospital robe as the nurse unties the two ties that’s holding my hospital gown together. She instructs me to lie down on the table and tells me to RELAX. Right. Yeah. I’ll try that. As I’m trying to get on the table, I see other people in surgical garb laying out sharp, shiny scalpels and tongs and weird metal thingys that seem too big for a small surgery such as mine. There are big lights above just like the ones in the ER on TV. I lie down and ask the doctor if I can see the lump that he takes out of me (no, because it has to go directly to the lab. Humph.) but he continues to tell me what I need to do after the surgery (i.e. when to take the bandages off, etc.) and all of a sudden I feel something cool going through my hands.
Me: “oh, that’s a cool sensation.”
A voice from behind me (who I assume is the anesthesiologist): “Oh, that’s normal, it’s just the saline solution.” He puts a mask over my face and instructs “Take a deep breathe now.”
Me taking a deep breathe.
Anesthesiologist: “Now, this may sting a little bit, it’s the anesthesia. Take another deep breathe.”
Me taking another deep breathe and then exclaiming “My hand is burning! It’s not stinging, it’s really burning! The whole hand!”
Anesthesiologist: “Oh, that’s normal, take another deep breathe.”
Me taking another deep breathe and still exclaiming “but it’s burning A LOT. I don’t think that’s normal…”
Anesthesiologist cutting me off: “Take another deep breathe.”
Me taking another deep breathe and fading into the darkness.
The next thing I remember is me waking up in another waiting area. I see a nurse in the corner come rushing over and saying “Good, you’re waking up right on time. How are you feeling dear?”
A groggy me trying feeling around my breast area and asking “Are my boobs still here? They didn’t take my boobs off did they?”
I wonder what other things nurses have heard from patients waking up after general anesthesia. Well, I now have no lump and still got two boobs in the right place. Whoo hoo!
I have lived in this apartment for almost two years. And for the last 20 months, it’s been a pretty quiet environment. Until my downstairs’ neighbor found himself a girlfriend.
Okay, it was funny the first time my friends and I heard a woman’s scream coming up from the floorboards of my bedroom, where we were watching “Birth” (btw, such a bad movie) with the volume on really high. It was even funnier to see my friend’s significant other with his ear glued to my bedroom floor hoping to hear more moans of pleasure. At the time, I thought “Great! He’s finally getting some.”
But then the sex continued. First it was just the weekend nights that I would hear their romping. Then it was every other night. No matter how loud I have the TV on, I could still hear them. I stomped around and jumped on my bed but that just seemed to encourage them. But nighttime romping didn’t bother me as much as it did when their romping interfered with MY SLEEP. They started having sex at the crack of dawn. Every fucking morning at 5am (no pun intended). Who needs an alarm clock when you’ve got your own porn sound effects coming from beneath your floorboards? Why don’t I tune them out, you ask? Because I am such a light sleeper, the itty bitty spider spinning a web in the corner will wake me up. Don’t believe me? Ask my BF: he’s had many unsuccessful attempts at sneaking out of bed because just a single breathe he takes makes me bolt upright in bed asking, “where you going?”
About three weeks ago, I thought the romps were over. The lovebirds downstairs were not making their usual love noises at 5am. No, this time she was throwing things at him while asking “Why won’t you marry me?” Let’s ignore the fact that they were arguing at 5 in the morning and take a moment to reflect upon the fact that they were only sleeping together for the last 3 months. WHO WANTS TO GET MARRIED AFTER THREE MONTHS??? Anyhow, these arguments lasted a couple of more days and I was so happy the porn show was finally over and I can resume sleeping past 5 am again.
This morning, at the butt crack of dawn, the fucking resumes at 5am. It is three hours until I have to show up at the hospital to check-in for surgery. Why are you people always horny at 5am on the dot? Do you set an alarm or something? Well, I know for a fact neither of you leave the apartment before 7, so how about you set your romping for 6:30 when I get up and I’ll be in the shower?
CAN’T I SOME SLEEP, PLEASE?
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Do you have a history of heart attacks in your family?
Do you have any allergies to any medication?
Have you had a cold in the past week?
Do you have any known medical condition that we should know about so that you don’t sue us if something comes up and you didn’t tell us?
Do you have power of attorney?
Do what I have what?
Power of attorney.
Why would I need power of attorney?
In the event that you remain unconscious, do you have power of attorney?
Why would I be unconscious? THIS IS A SIMPLE SURGERY. He said 45 minutes in and out.
Calm down, miss, I have to ask you that…
I’m not having a heart transplant. It’s just a lump! I had my wisdom teeth taken out and I woke up after an hour under anesthesia.
Miss. Calm down. Miss…
How do you know I won’t wake up. Did he tell you something?
Ma’am. Forget about that I asked you the question.
But now you’re getting me worried. I am going to wake up right? It’s not that serious of a surgery, is it?
Ma’am. It’s just a formality. I have to ask you that question. I ask everyone that question. You don’t have to answer it today if you don’t want to. You can give me the answer on Friday when you come in. Okay? Breathe now, lady.
Oh okay. No power of attorney.
Yeah, that got me just a little bit nervous and it had me thinking. What happens if I don’t wake up? I live all by myself in SF. I have no family here, just my BF and the only friend I could count on is 45 minutes away. Who will call my parents? What will my parents do even if they knew? They’re 3000 miles away. WHAT TO DO? WHAT TO DO?
I start having a panic attack and call my BF and tell him I’m having second thoughts about the surgery. Upon recounting the conversation with the nurse, my BF tells me “you know what I would say? Pull the plug!”
Gee, thanks. Just for that, I’m going to go through the surgery just so I can wake up and tell you “You’re not that lucky.”
Monday, October 03, 2005
I have been trying in vain to get a doctor to remove my own lump. Doctor #1 kept pressing her fingers deep into my armpit until I yelled for her to stop. She said the lump was nothing and no she won’t remove it for me because “it’s nothing.” Doctor #2 took a look at the lump and after feeling around the area, she said it was nothing and wouldn’t remove it either. By the time I got to Doctor #3, I just told her that even if it was nothing, please refer me to someone who would remove it because I don’t like the giant lump under my arm. She poked at the lump herself, said it was nothing to worry about, but she did send me to a GYN and told me to ask the GYN about it. The GYN, Doctor #4, said she normally sees these underarm lumps in women who have had several pregnancies and she would often refer them to another doctor to get it removed because it caused them tremendous amounts of pain. But since it didn’t hurt me, and I have not had any pregnancies, I should just ignore it. Before going back to report to Doctor #3, my BF did some research and told me that a plastic surgeon would remove my lump for a fee but he won’t remove it unless he gets a biopsy report that says the lump is benign. So I go back to Doctor #3 to tell her the report of Doctor #4, and ask again to get a referral to a doctor who will give me a biopsy so I just get the damn lump removed. Doctor #3 gives me a referral to an oncologist and warns me that this might be “cosmetic” and insurance will not cover it.
Today, I had the meeting with Doctor #5, the oncologist. I have to add that I have a phobia to male doctors, and Doctor #5 is a male. I’m just not comfortable with a strange man, even if he is a doctor who saves lives, etc., touching my body. It’s just weird. Anyways, back to the story. I was already nervous since he was a male doctor, but he made me feel comfortable. Asked me about the history of my lump, poked at the lump and told me that it was “extra breast tissue” and that is was normal for people, men and women, to have extra breast tissue under their arms. He also said this was normal for women who have had several pregnancies. And I kid you not, he told me this: “as a matter of fact, I just saw a woman last week who just had her second baby and she had a lump similar to yours under her arm. The only difference was that her lump had a tiny little nipple on it, and it was lactating. Yes, there was milk coming out of it.” I didn’t care if I had to pay for the surgery myself, but it doesn’t hurt to ask if insurance will cover it. Doctor #5 is great. He said insurance should cover this because “you’re young, you’ve never had a pregnancy, and instead of taking a little out for a biopsy, I’ll take out as much of the extra tissue as I can then we’ll send it to the lab to make sure it’s nothing we need to worry about further.”
Whoo hoo! I thought he would schedule the surgery for 3-4 weeks out, but no, it’s scheduled for the end of the week. Yikes!
BF quote of the day: “Vanity isn’t for the weak.” Is it really worth the pain?
Saturday, October 01, 2005
BF: “I need two cashier’s checks please.”
Bank Teller: “Absolutely, sir. That won’t be a problem. I just need to know who the checks should be made out to.”
BF: “Certainly. The checks need to go to [John Smith] Homes.” And as an aside to me: “them crooked bastards! Taking all my money!”
Bank Teller: “Oh, I see.” Then she looks at me and asks with a nice wide smile: “Are you two buying a home together?”
I look at my BF with a great big smile on my own face and he replies for the both of us: “I’m buying a house.” As he’s pointing to himself to make it clear. “Not we, just me.”
Bank Teller, who is now a bit confused but continues to smile as she looks at me and asks, “Well, I assume you are going to live with him?”
At this point, my BF is looking at me to see what I would tell this young lady about our living arrangement (which is none). I smile my sweetest smile as I tell her: “live together? Ha! He’s already banned me from his new house. As a matter of fact, I’m not even welcomed there!”
BF is laughing his head off, but then ends the conversation with: “Quinny! Would I ever say something like that?”
Me: “Of course you would. That’s one of your lines.”
BF: “I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
The Bank Teller gives us the weirdest looks as she hands us my BF his checks for his home.
Monday, September 26, 2005
12:00am -- lying in the dark counting sheep to the thousands.
1:00am -- take two valarium root and attempt to fall asleep while watching tv again.
2:00am -- another cup of chamomile tea and watching the Discovery channel, which teaches you that small things really can kill you, i.e. carnivorous ants from Africa that can kill an adult horse overnight; and the most poisonous jellyfish is the size of a quarter and mainly resides in the waters of Australia. also, "little people" can do a lot of things "normal size" people can (giving birth to four kids and raising them? not many normal people can do that!).
3:00am -- STILL WIDE AWAKE and getting hungry now.
sleep, did you miss me tonight? i sure did miss you. where are you?!? okay, back to bed to make another attempt before having to get up for real in four hours.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
This is Mr. Moo. He's modeling my latest creation, a mint green angora scarf. It's super super soft against the skin and it was really really tough to knit. Well, it was tough for me. My fingers are still cramped up as I'm typing it up. I was trying to follow the "mock-cable rib" pattern, but after reading over the directions, I just realized I skipped a step, so I guess I just created a pattern (hee hee). I'll name this "Q's mock-cable rib" and below is a close up:
If you want to attempt the real "mock-cable rib" pattern, the directions are below:
Row 1: *P1, k the second st on the left needle, leave this st on the needle and k the first st on the left needle; drop both sts off needle; rep from * to last st, p1.
Row 2: *K1, p2; rep from * to last st, k1.
Row 3: Repeat Row 1.
Row 4: Repeat Row 2.
Directions: With one strand of each yarn held tog, CO 22 sts. Work in mock-cable rib pattern until piece measures 54" from beg. BO and weave in ends.
If you want to attempt the mistake that I made, aka "Q's mock-cable rib", then just follow these Row 2 directions: *K1, p the second st on the left needle, leave this st on the needle and p the first st on the left needle; drop both sts off needle; rep from * to last st, k1. I used two balls of yarn here.
My second model is Miss Daisy and she's wearing a red & black scarf made from Fun-Fur "eyelash" yarn. This pattern is super SIMPLE because it's just a garter stitch all the way through (CO 22 sts for this width). I used one ball of yarn for each color to make this scarf.
Now that I'm finished, I'm gonna go feed my empty stomach and do some finger stretches. This also means no more crafty projects until the LSAT is over with. Blegh!
I didn't realize how much I missed my car was until I got it back and was driving it again.
While my car was at the auto shop, I had use of my bf's car. His car is built low to the ground so I always "thumped" when I got into the driver's seat; the driver's seat doesn't move so I have to use a pillow to help prop me forward; it jerks forward whenever I step on the gas; it smells different (no, not stinky smelly, just smells like a man's car and not a woman's car). Let's just say I had to adjust.
As soon as I got back into my car, it just felt right. The familiar seat at a height where I didn't have to sit down to a "thump"; rear view mirrors all in the same place; no jerking movements with the gas pedal; and it smells like my car.
Boyfriend quote of the day: "Hello over there! Just calling to say hi to my sweetie. I didn't call to say goodnight last night because I forgot to charge my phone up, but it's currently charging now. We're about ready to go out and I'm leaving my phone here so it can charge up, so I won't be able to answer if you call while I'm out. Isn't that convienient? hee hee!"
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
I was at a red light when all this smoke was increasing. There was a gas station to my left, on the other side of the median. All I had to do was make the left turn, get to the next light (approx. 25 feet away) to make another left turn and get to the gas station. Well, I phoned my bf to let him know that my car was smoking up and that he should probably come get me at the gas station. As soon as I hang up on him, my car starts making creaky, crunchy noises just as I make it to the second light. I'm thinking the light will turn green any second so I can just quickly make the left turn and dash for the gas station, but NO, it took FOREVER for the light to turn green. And in the meantime, my car is smoking up the gazoo and it's cranking and clanking louder and louder. I start to fear that my car really is going to blow up so I turn off the engine and ran out onto the median of the road, leaving my car behind in the middle of the road at the stop light. Second phone call to the bf frantically telling him that I didn't make it to the gas station and my car is in the middle of the road and I think it's gonna blow.
After about ten minutes, the smoke disappears and my bf arrives and decides to push the car to the gas station. The freaking red light took another five minutes to turn green, and a nice woman graciously helps us out by pushing my car with her car. Only the wheels were locked so I couldn't make a complete turn and her son got out to help my bf push the car backwards, then forwards again until we were able to park the car at the curb of the gas station. I am so grateful to know there are still good samaritans out there. If you're reading this, THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME!!
Thank goodness this didn't happen while we were on the way to the airport. I can't imagine being able to get out of the car if it did started to burn up. Anyway, bf made it to the airport on time and is on his way to the East Coast for the weekend. And I just barely made it home with his car.
As for my dud of a car, anyone need some car parts? I don't think I want to drive it anymore.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Anyways, I really shouldn't eat like that anymore. Ever since I can remember, I always had a little belly pooch (I call it my "Pal" because it makes me happy to have Pal happy). As of late, Pal's been getting bigger, and if I expand it enough, I really look like I could be four months pregnant. And I look pregnant because the rest of me is not big; it's just my Pal. No one really believes I have a belly pooch, but that's because I wear dark clothing, often put my gym bag over my belly, cover my belly with my hands when I can't hide it with a jacket, suck in my gut when I wear tight shirts, and of course I try not to expand my belly for all to see (with the exception of certain individuals, i.e. the bf).
My goal is to get rid of Pal. I've got the small waist and shapely hips. I just also have the belly pooch and if you really want to imagine it, add a big bulge to the bottom of your belly button.
This picture is now my goal. For my belly to be flat so I can wear a two piece bikini when I'm strolling along the beaches of Honolulu at the end of this year. I'm pretty good about the gym, so I really need to cut back on eating fatty foods like pigs in a blanket.
You'd think that once I figured out the solution to the belly pooch problem, it would be simple to get started and just cut out all the fat. Well, let's just say the BLT sandwich for lunch and hot dog during dinner isn't really helping. And that pint of mint chocolate chip Ben & Jerrys keeps taunting me to eat it.
It's going to be a long haul. Good bye comfort food! Good bye!
Quote of the day: My bf and I were at Costco so he could buy a giant bottle of Grey Goose vodka to bring on a trip to see his buddy. At the checkout line, the cashier asked if that was all we were buying. We said yeah and the cashier joked that we should have gotten the giant bottle of Petron too. Then the 40 year old icky man behind me said "With that bottle, she'll end up on the table and it'll be a real party tonight!" EWW EWW EWW EWW EWW
Friday, September 16, 2005
"HEEEEP SUUUUP CHOOOOOOOIIIII, HEEEEEP SUUUP CHOOOOIIIIIII..."
When Barry Bonds was up to bat: "LET'S GO STEROIDS, LET'S GO...LET'S GO STEROIDS, LET'S GO..."
When the Giants got two runs in the first inning: "I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYONE WIN THE GAME IN THE FIRST INNING."
"HOW YOU LIKE THAT HOMEY? GIANTS UP TWO TO NOTHING" Then my boyfriend quietly jokes to me, "I show you homey...I go homey your ass in the parking lot and you let me know who's up two to nothing."
When Jeff Kent finally got a base hit, some sick Giants fan yelled sadistically, "BURN IN HELL, KENT!"
"HEEEEEP SUUUP CHOOOOIIIIIII!"
Boyfriend quote of the day: "I have never cheated on you. Well, at least not this week." Slap!