cshell

Filipino food - Mom

Filipino food - Mom and Lola came over tonight for dinner. Ok, that means they cooked Filipino food (bittermelon and pork and noodles and a dessert that I have no idea the name of but it has rice dumplings and jackfruit and coconut gelatin-y things and is generally yummy) and I ate (mmmm....).

I got to thinking about whether other kids of immigrant parents, or kids who are half one thing/half another sort of get the complex like I do - I feel guilty about not being Filipina enough, but have no desire to be other than the completely Americanized way that I grew up. I don't know much about the culture (admittedly because I haven't taken much time to learn about it), and am not sure that I want to know. While for my mom and grandmother the idea of being Filipino is very real (it's in what they eat, and how they speak, and how they live and how they think), it's sort of a foreign concept to me (as much as being a guy would be foreign to me).

I feel vaguely guilty (like survivor's guilt?) about having had a better life than they did, but also grateful that I have had opportunities that they haven't. I don't know what to say when they talk about cousins I don't know and have no desire to meet who want to come to this country. We all dance around the fact that I have so much while they have nothing, that it would be "such a small thing" for me to help them. And I feel like a selfish shit when I don't want to help them - when, to the contrary, helping them would mean that I could no longer afford the fabulous life that I have.

I know that in many ways my cultural background has helped me in many ways. Some of my drive and ambition have come from the fact that my mom was always drilling into my head how lucky I am and how far you can go from very little if you apply yourself. And frankly, some of my drive to be even slightly non-traditional in any ways comes from having a very straight-laced background (growing up Roman Catholic). The fact that I want to do exactly what you tell me I can't comes from the idea that girls can't do that, or people who look like me aren't supposed to be assertive, or that people who look like me can't drive. Whatever fucked up perception or notion of me that other people have based on things I can't help but wouldn't trade (my sex, my skin color) are the exact things that make me stronger, and give me the drive to grind their faces in my triumphs.

And yes, I will admit with my eyes downcast, that I am also in some ways ashamed of my background. I didn't like having to explain to all of my white friends what lumpia was, or I wanted to hide that we ate rice with most meals instead of pasta or potatoes. And while my friends thought it cool that I tanned so quickly and have curly hair, that all I wanted when I was a little girl was to look like the blond-haired/blue-eyed icons of feminity that I couldn't hope to even approximate. And while I never felt white enough, I was also never Filipino enough for the occasional friends of my mom that I met, or people from school that I met. And my mom gives me a hard time sometimes about not knowing how to speak Ilucano or Tagolog, but she also never spoke it at home (wanting me to speak English), and she worked very hard so that she has very little trace of an accent (except when she's mad).

And I have a particularly strange aversion to Asian woman/white man couples that I see - my immediate stereotype is that he wanted an obediant little Asian wife (sweet and demure, and great at cooking and cleaning, and a hellion who "love you long time"), and she saw him as her ticket to a better life. I hate myself for thinking that, but I also hate how often that that stereotype is true. If not for such a pairing, I wouldn't be here. But I also know that both my parents are real people, with more behind them than a stereotype could accurately convey, even if on the surface it's true. I also think that much of my aversion to that stereotype comes from my seeing that my step-dad lived it - as soon as he broke up with my mom he moved on to a Korean woman who could barely speak Engrish, and that he showed off like some prize pig at the county fair - and all I could think was how could he stand to be with a stupid, kowtowing little nothing when he had had a great woman like my mom.

I know that because I think of such things that they come up in conversation probably more than other people are comfortable with. That's a bit because I'm trying to make some kind of peace with how I feel about being 2nd generation. But it's also because by asking questions of my friends I also find that maybe I'm not the only one who feels that way, or that if any particular thing is really only my hangup, that it's at least understandable. I also learn things about my culture from friends that I don't feel comfortable asking my mom about. And maybe if I get it all out of my system, I can let go of it someday and move on. But at 35 years and counting, I'm not holding my breath.

The other side - Hm...

The other side - Hm... if men sometimes read women's magazines to get into our heads (which is a slightly fucked up way to do it because women's magazines are screwy too), then does the converse work - if I read a men's site I'll get an understanding of what makes them tick? (It shouldn't be that hard, they're much more straightforward than we are.) I think it's an interesting experiment, so in surfing for other stuff I ran across this men's site and I think I'll use it for a mini sociological study.

The specific article I read was this - and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I certainly agree with some points like 1, 6, 7 (mostly because either that's the way I already act or because even if I don't act that way, I know it's true), but not sure how I feel about others.

Mutant superpowers - Alyssa and

Mutant superpowers - Alyssa and I won tonight at Trivial Pursuit. At some point Metamanda said something about mutant superpowers because we had gotten some number right in a row. I don't necessarily think of that as a mutant superpower (the ability to pull random stuff out of your brain or make decent guesses). I think my mutant superpower was guessing George Steinbrenner from Alyssa's clue about the Yankees (and possibly Seinfeld, though I don't remember hearing that clue until we discussed it later). I had no idea I knew his name and then totally pulled it out of my ass. Muuuaaaaahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa....

Infidelity - I've been thinking

Infidelity - I've been thinking about infidelity. Having been on both sides (cheated upon and the cheater), I know a tad about it. It sucks on both sides. It sucks enough on the cheater side that I won't do it anymore. And it sucks on the cheated upon side enough that I wouldn't participate in doing that to someone else (i.e. even if I was single, I wouldn't get together with someone in a relationship).

Friends who have never cheated, or never considered it, have asked me why I would do it. I think there are lots of reasons that people cheat, but fundamentally it comes down to the fact that there's something you're not getting in your current relationship that you look to get from the outside. It's not (ok, for women at least) usually about sex (although there is the interesting phenomenon that the sex in your regular relationship gets better during the affair - maybe out of increased self-esteem, maybe out of guilt.) Sex is the vehicle by which you get the things you're probably really looking for - validation - the idea that someone other than the person who HAS to say you're sexy thinks you're sexy. Sometimes it's also about the thrill of the illicit - can I pull of the lie, what are the consequences if we get caught - all the things that while adding guilt and shame, also add tingle and anticipation and danger. Sometimes it's about romance - that ineffable thing that you get when you have a spark with someone new, the thrill of discovery (we both like this, he hates that/I wonder why), the reveling in being treated in a new way - someone thinks you're smart/funny/cool - all the things that your SO used to think about you, but probably doesn't show you he thinks now.

It's not (usually) about an intent to hurt the other person. (Ok, if there was infidelity on both sides, then that's a possible reason, but then you're actually wanting to get caught or found out). It's again about wanting to get something that you're not getting, and not having the insight to figure out what it really is and the guts to go out and get it in a way that won't hurt someone else. In some ways it's a strange way of striking out on your own - you're going to get something (whatever it is that you get from the entanglement), and damn the consequences.

While you're in the middle of the infidelity, you're not sure whether it's really worth it or not - is the thrill worth the heartache it would cause to be found out? For some amount of time it obviously is worth it, or you wouldn't continue the involvement. But there's so much lying and concealing and thinking about getting caught and guilt and shame and lust and sex and sharing and thrills and bucked up self-esteem all rolled up into a big messy ball that it's hard to think straight.

Going public - This tags onto another thought I had had - about whether to go public with certain involvements or not. Again, I've been on both sides. At times it's great to have everything out in the open - you can openly revel in your latest tryst, enjoying that person's company in the company of others, showing off that person (if you're proud of them) to your friends, seeing your new flame's interaction with your friends in ways that confirm that this person is worth doing the work of a relationship with. And on the other hand, when that relationship goes down in flames, you can mourn openly/publicly/bitterly if you'd like about how the opposite sex sucks, that person was shallow/stupid/immature, etc.

But there's something to having relationships stay private as well. There's the feeling that since this is a secret just between us that it's somehow more intense and more special. That something about sharing this with others will either make this less special, or somehow cheapen/weaken the bond between us. And on the other side, when it ends, no one else needs to be any the wiser - there's no second-guessing of your decisions, there's no need to rehash it endlessly. Then again, there's no one to help you get outside your own head about it, to have a different viewpoint about what happened (or didn't, or what was said, or wasn't, etc.)

I wonder too about the ways that men and women differ on both sides of the keeping it quiet or not idea. I think for some reason (and this is merely my experience through my friends, so I could be wildly wrong) that if guys have kept things hidden that they are much more gung ho about keeping the next one(s) open. I don't know if it's because it's hard for men to keep a secret in that way (you'd think it would be the opposite - that women, who are much more into sharing their thoughts and feelings, are the ones more likely to have a hard time keeping a relationship secret). Or maybe it's because it's such a relief to not have to sneak around, or tell partial truths to friends, that men don't want to have relationships stay in the shadows. Or maybe it's because men are much more about wanting to parade their conquests in front of others (either for sheer numbers to show their virility/conquest abilities or to make others jealous, or just because they can)?

I think that in this way women are more likely to take each potential relationship as it comes and react according to the specifics of that person/time/place, meaning that it depends upon the relationship whether the woman keeps it under wraps or lets the relationship stand for others to see. For women there can also sometimes be a vested interest in NOT having people know how many people you've slept with (as old ideas of madonna/whore die hard).

For me personally, I'm torn. I have had a couple of relationships stay under wraps, and given the outcomes, I'm glad they did. It means that the only person second-guessing what happened is me (and possibly the other person, but I don't have to know about that). Some of this reluctance to let other people know what's going on comes from being in a crowd of people for whom any tidbits in my life were fodder for the gossip mill and dinner party speculation. Given that I tend to make foolishly dramatic choices of people to be involved with (if there couldn't possibly be someone worse in my life to get involved with, that's who I'll choose), I tended to provide a LOT of fodder for the rumor mill. And I got tired of it. It was frankly no one else's business. And so I stopped sharing what was going on in my "real" life, and left only work and the innocuous bits of my social life open for public inspection. And I continue to do so. I am starting to trust people in my social circle a bit more to know what's going on in my "real" life, but it's difficult given how I've been burned by former friends. Hence my reluctance to share what's really going on.

It would be nice to have a relationship that I can trumpet openly. I'd like to be able to sit down with my friends (a la Sex and the City) and dish about what's going on in my head, my heart and my bedroom. I'd like to be able to openly bitch when it's over about the way he treated me, how crappy and conflicted I feel about it, to wonder aloud about the "what ifs". Maybe by doing these things I'd move on more quickly. Or maybe with exposure to the light of day (and hence some clarity of vision), I'd figure out sooner (with less angst for all concerned) that this isn't the place I'm meant to be.

Nothing much to say... afraid

Nothing much to say... afraid to surf for fear I'll buy more stuff I don't have the money for... so here's a bit of stupidity for fun...

Cheers.... If I were a drink, apparently I'd be a Long Island.

Congratulations! You're a Long Island Iced Tea!


What Drink Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla Going for the classic choice, none can go wrong with a classy Long Islander!

And if I were a romance movie, apparently I'd be Casablanca (it must be fate - it was talked about in Adaptation the other night, and I watched it on cable tonight, and here it is again...

"You must remember this, a kiss is still a
kiss". Your romance is Casablanca. A
classic story of love in trying times, chock
full of both cynicism and hope. You obviously
believe in true love, but you're also
constantly aware of practicality and societal
expectations. That's not always fun, but at
least it's realistic. Try not to let the Nazis
get you down too much.

What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life?
brought to you by Quizilla

Yay, it's my favorite word.... (I hated the quiz, but I thought the result was too funny not to post)...

your fuck.


What swear word are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Horoscopes - just in case you're compelled to check my horoscope at the same time you check yours, I'm an Aries (duh... my favorite word is fuck...)

Tarot - while it's certainly more fun to do my own reading, that means having to leave the comfort of the computer, so here's the lazy person's version of a reading.

Runes - a bit more random, but fun as well.

Serial killer investigator? - Apparently

Serial killer investigator? - Apparently I'm good at this - I got 9/10 right.

Under a rock - Where

Under a rock - Where the hell have I been that I haven't been watching "I love the 70's"?

Favorite things I've seen so far - Easy Bake Oven (loved that as a kid - although it's all a plot by men to keep women enslaved in the kitchen), the Bicentennial as a marketer's dream, roller rink songs, Stevie Wonder, Wonder Woman (you have to love a woman with killer accessories like the truth lassoo and bullet proof bracelets), the songs "I Am Woman" and "You Light Up My Life". I haven't seen all the episodes yet, but I seem to remember a lot of toys that could actually cause physical injury when I was a kid (Lemon Twist, Clackers, lawn darts, Hot Wheels tracks), and I wonder which of those things they touched upon.

Mini-rant - Things I

Mini-rant - Things I hate: People who don't answer your email, especially when you are trying to plan something. People who only partially answer questions from an email. (Is it a male trait to only answer 1 question out of an email with multiple questions? Can they only comprehend one thing at a time????) Spiders that crawl across the desk while I'm typing. Wheezing. End rant.

Lessons learned - This trip

Lessons learned - This trip turned out to be a good tune-up for the trip to Italy. Living alone means you forget about tuning into the other person (and yourself) to be polite. I remembered that the next time I share a room with someone (and especially a bathroom) that I have to remember not to strew my stuff all around (keep it contained to a manageable area). Not that I was being messy, but it's good to remember this stuff with someone who will call you on it if you do. I also remembered that I have to pay attention to my energy levels/moods so they don't get out of control. Knowing in advance that I need to eat means I can either make provisions for food, or make my needs known sooner rather than later. (And to remember to bring some energy bars for when we absolutely can't stop for food.)

I remembered that I am moderately coordinated, and not quite the klutz that I think of myself being. We went rollerblading, and that was pretty fun. I actually was able to go a lot further than I thought, and I LOVED it. I loved being outside (allergies be damned!). The day was beautifully clear, and the weather was perfect (was probably in the low 70's when we started out, rising to around 80 by one-ish when we quit). The uphills weren't as bad as I thought they'd be, and the downhills were fun (as long as I relaxed and enjoyed the speed without thinking that it would suck to crash - that's what the pads are for, right...) I was wishing we could rent rafts and go down the river - I think I'll have to set up that adventure for next summer. All kinds of folks were out on the river in all kinds of floatation devices from rental rafts (one had about 12 people in it - many of them were small children, but STILL...), to a raft shaped like a Star Wars craft of some type (I'm not quite a good enough geek to know that), to inner tubes. There were lots of dogs out in the rafts with their people, some looking like they were having a ball, and some looking decidedly uncomfortable (especially walking on the soft bottomed boats). There were some wildflowers near the paved path we were on, and the shade from the trees near the path was heavenly.

I also learned that it's draining to be hyper-vigilant. We drove my car (because it's in better shape - generally). Apparently my car didn't like such a long trip because it gave off every buzzer it had. It went off to warn of low oil (we bought more and put it in). It went off to warn of low gas (ok, I hadn't been paying attention). It buzzed to tell me the windshield wiper fluid was low. That wouldn't have been bad, but it did that about once per half hour on the way down the hill - and apparently you can't turn that off. Who cares???? It's a non-essential fluid! Yeesh! And while I trusted my companion to drive my car, I was still being hyper-vigilant, with a sub-text to all of my conversations or scenery-watching (faster, slower, upshift, downshift, stay to the left, watch that guy, he's going to cut you off). I can't decide if it was more draining to drive or to be the passenger. I think it was pretty near heroic on my part to not VOICE any of these things.

Last lesson - I don't know what it is about being near large bodies of water that's so calming, but it has such a palliative effect on both mind and body that I need to remember to do it more often. Some of it is the sound (a lake definitely has a much more calming sound than the ocean, though I love both) - the waves lapping at the shore or the rocks is calming. I think the clarity of the air and water was wonderful as well, and it's always nice to hear people laughing (me included) as they play in the water. Even just hanging by the pool was nice (now I'm on the Nevada side, now I'm on the California side). It was great to slough off some of the stress and anxieties that I didn't realize I had been carrying.

Weekend - Tahoe was fabulous

Weekend - Tahoe was fabulous (more details later). However, it's only taken an hour back at work for my stress levels to go back up. Sigh...

Activity roundup - Tahoe was wonderful as usual. Now I remember why I like Tahoe best in the summer. We drove up in the morning on Sat. Wandered around in Truckee for a bit (mmmm... ice cream on a hot day). Got checked into the hotel and then went to hang out by the pool. Went for an "adventure" walk later - basically we wanted to get down to the lake, but weren't sure if we could do it without trespassing on someone's property. You can. Dinner (see reviews) and then back to sack out early. Sunday we got up at a leisurely time, then went to the store for breakfast/sandwiches and out for rollerblading. Haven't done that in AGES - no wipeouts, so it was lots of fun. Soaked our feet in the river and had lunch watching people launch their rafts down the river. Back to the hotel to hang by the pool, and then a nap. Then we went out to a nice restaurant like grown-ups (linens and everything!) Spent Sunday night (I might do it that way more often - Sunday was cheaper) and drove home and go to work by noon.

Reviews - Lake Tahoe Brewing - the review is a bit old, but seems right. The building itself was nice (a victorian style house). There was a private party on the top floor, so I didn't see that. Walked through the bar and got seated outside where 2 guys were playing guitars and various tunes (they were ok - nothing special, but good enough for a starry night). They had a nice garden/patio area, and had the heaters going. The food we had was great - a gorgonzola/apple salad and calamari appetizer. The service was a bit slow, but they had 2 large parties (another one of about 20 people was seated after we had ordered). I'd like to go back another time when I'm actually hungry and try the Schnitzel. I didn't try any beer, but the blonde was rated well by my companion.

Gar Woods - this was a nice place. The decor was relatively simple (photos of "woodies" - boats). The floorplan was pretty open, and I'd have thought it would be loud, but it wasn't bad. The restaurant is right on the lake, and you can walk out on the pier (recommended at night - the stars are amazing). I had the sesame crusted ahi (served with wasabi cream and julienned vegetables and rice). My companion had a house salad and coconut crusted prawns. Everything we had was outstanding (I was surprised by the vegetables - they had a nice sauce with them that didn't overpower the flavor of the veggies, but added a nice slightly smoky/sweet flavor). The black bottom pecan pie was pretty average, but the service was prompt and efficient. The overall experience was quite nice, and I would definitely recommend going back.

CalNeva - Probably one of the cheesiest hotels in the world. I think the claim to fame (other than the fact that you have lake views from most every room, which would seem to be true) was that back in the day the Rat Pack used to hang out here. The rooms were like a regular hotel (I think they had upgraded in the last 5 years or so), but you walk thru a mini casino to get to the elevator. One of the 2 elevators was broken all weekend, so it could take forever at times to get the elevator. Given that we were on the top floor it's problematic when you need to go up (although I did it one day on the way back from the pool).

Now you tell me -

Now you tell me - Apparently I was supposed to have a fabulous day. If I'd only known...

And now that I know this... I'll have a LOT more fun in Tahoe. It's always been a lucky place for me... (ok, maybe not for gambling, but in other ways...)

Working on a Friday night

Working on a Friday night - How sad is it that working is actually the thing I most wanted to do tonight? I considered bringing my laptop to Tahoe so I could get some work done, but realized that would be stupid (mostly because I'm sure it would be hideously slow/expensive to try to get to our network from there). Sigh... it's just a sickness...

However, there is something nice about knowing that I don't HAVE to be doing this (i.e. I can leave it whenever I want to). And being able to rock out to whatever music strikes my fancy at any volume I choose is kinda fun too...

Road trip - Nothing

Road trip - Nothing to help you get into the mood for a road trip like Beach Boys. Perhaps I need to put together a playlist for the iPod of driving songs. Then again I'd need the adapter to play the iPod in the car. Details...

Irony - I wore pink

Irony - I wore pink to be ironic today. The ironic thing was that in wearing such a "girly" color, I rediscovered the real power behind being a woman. Wonders never cease...

Questions - why is it

Questions - why is it that I only get fired up to pursue something at a time when I cannot POSSIBLY pursue it? Is Corn-Nuts an acceptable dinner alternative? Have I finally discovered how those people that lose weight without trying do it - the angst diet? Do you have to call dibs on things before you breakup with someone (or during) in order to keep those things separate later (and to keep you from fighting over them)? And if so, at what point does dibs become invalid, is there a statute of limitations on dibs?

Blood pressure - the good

Blood pressure - the good news is that it's down. Apparently I'm now at "pre-hypertensive" levels. Woo hoo... At least I won't have to take anything for it. (The slide downhill into old age is somehow connected in my head to having to take pills/medicines/remedies.) So how am I celebrating this victory? With a salty snack, of course.

Categorizations of guilt - this

Categorizations of guilt - this may be one I have to come back and add to over time. I was thinking about guilt, where it comes from, etc, and for convenience in my own head came up with some categories that may also need sub-categories. Many of these will have to be cross-referenced as it will be impossible to determine where the guilt really started on these:
Parental guilt - stuff you get from your parents. Not sure if this would be familial guilt if I had brothers and sisters (but probably).

Religious guilt - this would of course vary by the religion you were brought up in. Being brought up Catholic gives you much fodder for religious guilt.
Societal guilt - not sure how to characterize this - sort of general guilt for having it good while others have a crappy lot in life. Bonus points for those of us with relatives (however distant) in third world countries who would "be so thankful to have one-tenth of what you have".
Pet guilt - guilt over past mistreatment of pets (whether unwitting or not).

I'm sure there are many more, I just needed to start the list.

Hopefully this is not stolen

Hopefully this is not stolen from Sex and the City - Is it a form of strength or of weakness to admit you need something or someone? I know I find it somehow reassuring when people let me in a little and let me see their weaknesses - it lets me know they trust me enough to let that part out. But it doesn't make me feel any better about letting those parts of myself be seen. I guess I'd rather be clothing naked in public than emotionally naked in public. I can fight or get over anyone who would make comments about my physical being, but there's no real defense for the emotional being.

Anger is not particularly fun

Anger is not particularly fun to be around - Now I understand it when people get twitchy around me when I'm being a particularly virulent ball of anger. It is a twitchy feeling to be on the other end of - even if you know it wasn't you that caused it, nor are you likely to make it go away. Not fun, got it.

Random thoughts day - Haven't

Random thoughts day - Haven't had much to say in the last couple of days. Strange concept... Do you ever find that your thoughts sound like other people - as if they are voiceovers from your favorite sit-coms? It's not so weird when it's Carrie from Sex and the City. It is a little weird when it's JD from Scrubs... More randomness - eye contact is good. Especially when it makes you feel all tingly and like the other person really got it... mmmm...

Compartmentalization (is that a word?) - sometimes I wonder if compartmentalizing myself is a bad thing. I tend to act/be/do certain things around certain people. Some people get to see the competent grown-up side. Some people get to see the strong, together, with-it person. Some people (very few) get to see the strung out, vulnerable, scared part. Some people get to see bits of all of the above. It's too bad that not very many people get to see all the sides.

Then again, there is something to be said for compartmentalizing. If you know you're only ever going to live down to one crowd's lowest expectations of you, then you get to be that person that they expect with them - crazy, wild, sexual, drunk, and altogether TOO. If you don't have an outlet for those things in other places, and these "TOO" things only come out occasionally, then it's probably a good outlet. It's a bit sad that that crowd never gets to see the grown-up I've become, but it is kind of nice to have a place to be the fucked up kid I remember. Even if they can't see how far I've come, I can.

This line of thinking makes me remember a friend of mine. No one ever expected anything of him other than what they'd already seen - goofy, sweet, funny, but not someone that you would take seriously as a boyfriend/husband, etc. When he moved across the country, my other friends thought he was nuts, but I think that will probably end up being one of the smartest things he could have done. I'm sure that with a fresh start he could live up to whatever HE wanted to be, not live down to the small box that people wanted to put him in. Go Wonder Twin!

Cars - I was sitting

Cars - I was sitting here, listening to music and reminiscing about an ex-boyfriend and a road trip we had taken. I remember the radio, and the sunshine coming through the window onto my leg, and the feel of his hand on my thigh, and the rumble of the engine and the peace that I had in that minute to breathe. Then I realized that most of my fond memories of my exes have to do with automobiles in some manner (and some variant on that scene) - the perfect sunny road trip day, the day we got in a fender bender, first car experiences, trips to the mountains, trips to Southern California, trips to Carmel, and last but not least, sex in cars (not the best sex necessarily, but cars do call to mind a certain frenzied, fogging up the windows, furtive urgency). The types of cars vary a bit like the men do - classic roadsters, new roadsters, muscle cars, refined German driving machines, barely running American hoopties.

Some of the road trips have their own soundtracks in my head; funny that somehow going north was always the same CD, and going south was always a different CD, but songs from either call up images of a beautiful day in a bright red machine, riding past suburbia, and the city, over the Golden Gate and off into adventures unknown. All the trips in the red machine weren't happy, some were tinged with sadness knowing that the next day would bring changes we didn't want, but that the trip itself could hold off some of that change for a little while.

Not all the machines were graceful and shiny - some were ugly Ford blue with windows lovingly etched with the names of people we'd never meet going up and down, up and down, faster, faster, over dips in the road until we were laughing too hard to see anymore and someone hit her head so hard that she wasn't having fun anymore while we the rest cried with laughter. The ugliest car of all with 87 different true stories about that no one believes who wasn't there - the "Dukes of Hazzard" incident, the drive to Lake Isabella where we told him SPECIFICALLY not to turn the car off, the Alhambra truck incident, the fire in the trunk incident, the fire in the wiring harness incident. At the time, it was a hate relationship with that first car, but now time has worked its magic and all these incidents have a strangely lovely quality to them. Maybe it's because I now have a car that starts every day, and runs without my having to think about it, that I don't worry about anything catching fire and that I care about where to park it and whether it gets dinged, but I wouldn't appreciate any of these things without that first car, and without the person who taught me to see that car for what it could be.

Here's to my favorite men and their favorite machines - I hope you know how much those times mean to me.

Spiders - If I haven't

Spiders - If I haven't posted this already - I hate spiders. If I have, then let me reiterate, I hate spiders. For some reason, they LOOOOOVE my house. There are many in the house. This wouldn't bother me if I had someone taller than me around who could kill them for me, but no, I have to do that myself. I'm all for strong women doing things on their own - except in the case of killing spiders and other household pests.

What prompted this mini-rant? My house does not have a direct connection to the garage. In order to do laundry, you have to walk through the backyard (technically you could go through the front door, but that's more of a pain - you have to wear clothes as the neighbors might see you) to get to the garage where the washer and dryer are. Normally, I do such tasks at more reasonable hours, but given that I have a load of wet laundry in the washer, I thought I'd retrieve it. For some reason, I thought to cover my face against spiderwebs as I walked around the house. This thought caused me to stop before I had walked all the way around the back corner. And I'm glad I did. Because in an ENORMOUS web (which has been waxing and waning over the last couple of weeks depending upon who/what's been through the area). In it was a moderately enormous spider. The only way to get through to the garage was to walk through the spider web. While I pondered this impasse (I didn't want to walk through the spider web, and I'm pretty sure that had the spider known I was there, he wouldn't have wanted me to walk through it either. So I thought, don't be a wuss, get something to keep the spiderweb from having to actually touch you, but will let you by. I went into the house to get a mop, thinking the handle would work well in that regard. This time when I came back I happened to look up a bit (the enormous spider web/spider were about 2 feet off the ground). In looking up, there were 3 more spider webs, with spiders busily scurrying around, such that had I walked through, I would have landed up with possibly 3 or 4 different spiders attached to me by webs. Uh unh, no way Jose, not going to do it. My clothes will have to ROT in the washing machine - at least overnight - because I CANNOT bring myself to do it.

Mmmm... motorsports... - While

Mmmm... motorsports... - While I only sorta like to go fast myself, I find watching other people go fast to be very fascinating. F1 is my favorite, followed closely by WRC. (There are probably better links, I haven't perused as many of the sites as I'd like to find the ones that work best.)

Clowns and fear thereof -

Clowns and fear thereof - Coulrophobia - fear of clowns. Now there's help. And apparently there are web sites for people with this fear.

Observations I wished I'd remembered

Observations I wished I'd remembered sooner - Alcohol, in moderation, is good. Friends, in moderation, are good. Sunshine, in moderation, is good. All three of these things mixed together to excess... bad. So while I can now say I've been to an A's game, I cannot truthfully say I've SEEN an A's game. Another observation - sunscreen only works when it is applied to areas that may burn. The problem is that areas that may burn tend to be easily forgotten under the influence of alcohol.

Another observation - I have a strange Florence Nightingale (not to be confused with Florence Henderson) streak that only comes out when I'm drunk. I think I take care of other drunk people when I'm drunk in order to cleanse my karma so that when I'm ever in that shape someone will take care of me. But it doesn't work like that - I'm never the one who needs taking care of in a drunken stupor.

A third observation - my friends are all very different. This is a good thing, as I get different things from different friends. It only gets weird when you've completely compartmentalized yourself such that certain friends only see you certain ways. Then again, that can be good as well (that way the people you work with don't get to see the drunken-slut girl). It's sort of a bummer though, when you only get to live up or down to what a certain crowd expects from you. That's fixable - you can change your behavior (and it's always kind of fun to tweak people's expectations of you, as well as your own), but this turns out to be amazingly hard to do.

A fourth observation - I'm not as smart as I think I am. I used to think I was smart. And sometimes I even am. However, some of my friends are much smarter. This sort of makes me sad. Not because they are smart - being smart is incredibly cool and super sexy, especially from the girls. It's just sad to lose your illusions about yourself when they were "rosy glow" sort of illusions. Sigh...