more to come . . .

So I have to admit that I've been holding out on you guys a bit. I know I keep saying that there's not much exciting to write about, and that I've been unmotivated, but that's not entirely true. Actually, I've got some totally juicy things happening that I haven't wanted to share. Well, not that I haven't wanted to exactly. But really, I wasn't sure that I should, or how to even begin.

My crazy co-worker story is what comes to mind as falling under this category. Actually, when it all started unraveling initially, G told me that I shouldn't blog about it. First of all, I only knew the inside scoop cuz my co-worker found out and told me. G kept saying, "come on, its not even your secret to share." And I don't know, I think I have maybe one or two co-workers who peer in on this site sometimes. And never mind that I spend a fair amount of time complaining about work in general, but now I want to start throwing work gossip into the mix too? G's points made a lot of sense. So I held off, though it was kind of killing me.

But THEN, crazy co-worker confided in me directly, and it was on. Well, I guess maybe. I still held off, cuz honestly, I had no idea how to begin to start writing it all down. Plus, I'm worried that it's one of those things that just don't look as good on paper as they are when they happen to you. Cuz my jaw was literally dropping as this lady started telling me about her stalker who's trying to give her AIDS. Sure, you're either cracking up or deeply concerned right about now, but nowhere near to what I was feeling as it was happening.

Anyway, as entertaining (in a "whoa-awesome-blog-material kind of way) as it was, the whole thing kind of had me thinking about boundaries, what was appropriate to share and when. Finally, I've decided that you know, I'm sorry. If it makes for good reading, then it stays. And that's that. :) So over the next few posts, I'm going to try to fill in some gaps from the last couple of months. I don't promise to do it quickly. Work's been busy, and it is the holidays after all. Chances are, I won't even start til after Jan. And I swear, its not that I'm trying to keep you guessing. I just wanted to make sure everyone knows that I haven't forgotten about this blog. I know it's been slow lately, but I hope to be getting back to my regular posts here pretty soon. And I have some awesome material to start the new year off with.

calling all crazies

We have a little one bedroom cottage behind our house that we rent out. It's not like we have a use for it, so it's nice to have the extra income. It has a separate entrance, and most of the time we hardly see the person who lives there. Except for the fact that they come in through a gate at the side of the house and go through the back yard, which gets the dogs going crazy everytime they come in or out. But other than that, it's kind of cool. Mia has a tendency to love whoever lives there, especially after one lady (this kind of disgusting one) started feeding her things like ribs and chicken wings. We got to deal with the resulting dog farts, and the tenant had a nightly visitor whenever she came in that ran in as soon as she opened the door. She definitely got the better end of that deal (cuz we got the back end and it wasn't pretty). Since then, Mia is absolutely convinced that who ever is back there has got to be better than her cruel, totally neglectful (i.e. crazy people who will only feed her DOG FOOD twice a day and hardly any scrapes) owners.

Anyway, for the most part part, its a good deal. But I had no idea how having a little place to rent out would bring out SO MANY crazies. Everytime we look for some one to fill the spot, we're inundated with wackos and bums. So now that I'm married to G and part of the fun, I don't have to go into the world to meet crazies. They come right to my door. That particular lady with the ribs was my first experience with G's tenants a couple of years ago. She started chain smoking as soon as she moved in AND moved in her girlfriend with whom she would have frequent arguments. It took us several paint jobs and new carpets to even partially get out the smoke smell. And the random bits of furniture that was in the house while she was living there are STILL airing out in the garage. The best was when I got to meet the girlfriend face to face. G was out of town. Apparently the two ladies had had a fight, and she was knocking on the door asking for a ride to the airport cuz she'd been kicked out. Um, ok. And stupid me got caught off guard and said YES. Even though the airport is like an hour away. No wonder crazies are drawn to me, right? But I don't know, I don't do well under pressure. And it turned out that I was actually picking G up from the airport a couple of hours later, so somehow it seemed like a fine idea to just take her up with me. Except that I wasn't leaving for a couple of hours, and as soon as I said yes, she brought all her bags and just sort of sat on the couch and waited, until I finally decided to just drive to get it over with and figured I'd kill time near the airport until G's flight got in. And the worst part about the whole thing (well, if I had to pick just ONE) was that she cried and complained THE WHOLE RIDE UP and for the entire time, I had no idea what her name was. Seeing as how she wasn't even on the lease to begin with. Turned out that she had flown out from Texas to be with our chain-smoking, rib-loving tenant, and they'd had this on-again, off-again relationship for YEARS. Awesome. That was already way more than I needed to know, but since the ride was an hour long, I got to hear all the gritty details.

So then, when we started looking for some one to replace the tenant (whose gay AND straight sex encounters I knew WAY TOO MUCH ABOUT), our prize candidate was this lady who kept calling and pestering G until he finally agreed to show her the place. Her thing was that she needed Section 8 (low income) housing. We're not really authorized for that, but she seemed to think that we'd really love her and decide to go through all the red tape. And come on, who wouldn't be tempted after meeting her. She came around 9 o'clock at night with her belongings all loaded up in a van - she had already been kicked out of her housing and was ready to move in immediately. She sat in our living room and filled out her rental application instead of taking it with her. She listed her references but asked us not to call her last 2 landlords because they were spreading lies about her and had pretty much blackballed her in all of Santa Cruz county (hence the move to ours). She said it was fine to run her credit but fyi, she'd had some difficulties recently and her credit reflected that. She hoped we would understand. She didn't have a job. AND the best was when we asked for $20 to run her credit check along with her application. She wrote us a check but then called G the next morning asking if he wouldn't mind waiting . Needless to say, we didn't go with her. The sad part was that I think she was thinking the whole time that this place was the one. Like I got the sense (because she said as much) that she was already picturing how some of her belongings would look in certain corners of the apartment. I'm sure she would have loved to bring some stuff in from her van to test it out if we'd let her.

Most recently, we just had to find a new tenant at the beginning of Dec and she seems all right. Except that she's already been late with her first month's rent. Said that she could only withdraw so much $ from her ATM per day and didn't think ahead to get money before moving in (she waited until she was 2 days late to even start withdrawing the first increment). And couldn't pay by check cuz she lost her checkbook in the move. This was after we'd already agreed to let her pay the security deposit in 3 monthly installments. We'll see if we regret our selection. The problem is that we don't seem to get a ton of applicants each time, and we end up trying to pick the best of the lot. I guess the economy's not helping. And its sort of a unique little apartment, not really suited for families or anyone with excellent income. This girl definitely seemed better than the other call G got from some divorced lady with 3 kids who asked if "we could help her out" cuz she only made $600 a month. $600 TOTAL. For all her expenses. That's already less than what the apartment goes for, so I'm not sure how much help she was looking for. Plus she wanted to move all her kids in there too.

So clearly, we didn't have much to work with.

Last Harvest

In order to get a headstart for next year, G found this covering that's supposed to protect plants even through negative temperatures. He had everything bundled up long before this most recent cold spell and left me with strict instructions when he went out of town last week to make sure nothing got blown away. We managed to go through and get one last harvest before saying good bye to fresh veggies for the winter. I got creative with green tomatoes (and they were yummy!), and I think we're planning on opening a chile pepper store.

Pity Party

So I know I've been pretty terrible about blogging lately. And trust me, it's better that way. 'Cuz I haven't had anything funny to blog about. In fact, I have to admit that my life has been far from funny lately and actually a bit depressing. Mostly cuz my job SUCKS, and that's primarily where I do most of my blogging. It's hard to be entertaining when I come into work every morning and immediately feel my life getting sucked out of me. OK, maybe that's a tad bit melodramatic, but not by much. It's been hard. It's not that I expected this job to be the most exciting one I've ever had, but I also didn't expect it be so mind-numbingly miserable and BORING. And I'm not sure what to do about it. For one, has anyone seen the want ads lately? And two, I've only been here about 6 months. I'm not sure how to explain that during an interview. I mean, I could be wrong, but getting into the details of why this place is more terrible than jail doesn't exactly make for a great interview, am I right? A co-worker of mine (one of two who indulges my constant whining) just this morning compared this place to a concentration camp. I actually think she has it a bit worse than me even, but I couldn't have agreed more. So if anyone hears of a great job out there, please save me. I promise you, you'll immediately see an increase in my blogging output.

I do feel bad for complaining. I know I have it pretty good. For one, I have a job. That's more than I can say for about half my friends. Also, when I'm not at work, I have a great life. I love my husband and my dogs. We have a roof over our heads. I have decent friends. I mean, sure I live in the middle of nowhere, but overall, I have a pretty great life. Recently, I had some nice news that distracted me for a whole week and a half from being miserable at work. G has a job, and between us, we have everything we could want and then some. So I know I shouldn't be whining. But I'd never realized how HUGE job satisfaction is. I mean, I guess it makes sense. I spend approximately half my day each day either getting to/from or being at work. It's hard to push this part of my life into one corner and just enjoy everything else. Honestly, by the time I come home, my brain is so fried from boredom that it's hard for me to appreciate much of anything. Especially with the thought of going to bed and having to get up in the morning to do it all over again.

The to/from travel hasn't been great either. This week, G's out of town so I've been leaving the house pretty late in the morning. Too late to catch the last train at 7am (cuz um, you know, before 7 is the PERFECT time to ensure public transportion and not after - I mean, really, if you're not leaving for work by then what kind of loser are you?), but just in time for me to hit rush hour traffic. Which has been helping me feel so much better. But it just takes me so long in the morning to get the dogs walked and fed (usually G handles them in the morning), especially since I hate to walk them in the dark, and these days, it's like noon before it gets light out. I suppose I could just wait the traffic out, but the cleaning people come around work around 4 and staying much later than that is EVEN more depressing, if that's possible. So the thought of having to wait the traffic out in the evening until about 7pm gets me in the car every morning and rushing off to work. At least until I hit the first patch of traffic and decide that shooting myself might be all right too.

Last week, though, I had my first public transportation fiasco. I finally decided to try my option #4. I know, there were too many options for y'all to pay attention to. But that was the one where I would take the train in the morning, and then do a quick bus ride to catch the train in the evening (as opposed to light rail which was off schedule wise). So anyway, I tried that last week and guess what? The bus never showed. Well, when I called they said it had showed but apparently somehow I missed it. Even though I'd been standing there for like 10 minutes and buses are kind of hard to miss. I resigned myself to catching the next light rail and waiting for the next Caltrain. EXCEPT guess what?

So in the morning, the trains run every half hour or so (there are more, but just a small handful that come as far as my neck of the woods). I just assumed that'd be the case in the afternoon also. But no, actually, the 2nd train comes an HOUR AND A HALF after the first one! WTF!! Apparently, you're not only are you a loser if you go into work after 7 am, you're also a loser if you leave before 7pm. Really, is this the work-centered society that we live in???? F'in A, no wonder my whole life seems to suck if my job sucks! So anyway, I went back to work (after sitting around waiting for the bus/light rail for half hour), and then finally decided to just take the stupid express bus all the way home. You remember, the one that had me almost vomiting after? Let me tell you, it wasn't any better the 2nd time around. Well, it was less crowded and the driver seemed more motivated to get home. But that just meant he'd be tearing ass, skipping stops, until he realized that there was some one standing there in the dark and come to a screeching halt that had me almost flying out of my seat a few times.

That actually might have been the last time I took public transportion. . . Fortunately, I've had a whole week of sitting in traffic to convince me to go back.

So I guess that's my other request . . . If anyone out there is working on some sort of teleportation device, I could use one of those too. Again, I promise, you'll immediately seen an increase in my blogging output. More than that, I'm sure you'll see me returning your phone calls and emails, and actually hanging out with folks more cuz I'll just have more energy instead of feeling drained all the time.

OH, and as long as I'm getting it all out there -- Bandit's been getting up at least 2x a night to go out to pee. Damn old dogs! G usually takes care of that chore too. So if you're interested in crashing in our spare room for a couple of days and letting the dog out, that'd be nice too. :) Come on, any takers? Anyone? Anyone? :)

the finer points

When I said I was embarking on a new adventure, I guess I kind of lied. I mean, it wasn't just me embarking on it. I guess I should have specified that my husband and I were both embarking on it together. But I kind of didn't realize it would end up that way. Neither did he, until that first morning, when I called him at 5:45 am asking where the caltrain station was again cuz I'd forgotten to jot the address down, and I didn't quite trust the GPS to know exactly (though it did, we found out). Or the next morning wondering whether he thought I had time to actually make it to the train or not cuz I was running pretty late. Isn't it nice that we get to do something cool together like this? I keep trying to persuade him that this what couples are supposed to do, share in each other's experiences. You know, cuz we're married now. I think he'd be more convinced if this particular experience didn't involve him being woken up before the crack of dawn, but I'm guessing he'll come around eventually.

So far, commuting has only been sort of successful. The biggest problem is that I run perpetually late. Oh, usually about 5 minutes or so. Always. Everywhere. Which is usually ok, except when you're trying to catch a train that leaves exactly at 6:07 or 7:05. I think of all the days that I've tried to take the train, I've missed it more days than I've caught it. Once, I got lucky and they held the train for me! I came running up, dropping my lunch, and struggling to get on. And felt kind of proud that I'd made it. Until the conductor swung by a few minutes later and told me they decided to wait for me. They saw the whole thing - me losing my tuppeware lunch container, me jumping over some wall-type thing in heels and a skirt, me struggling with the ticket machine. Awesome.

Other days, I've been close but leaning towards not making it, and G tells me (when I call him to confer) that I should just go up to the next station and catch the train there. It's a tough call because by the time I get off the freeway and try to make it to the first train station, I lose valuable freeway time and lower my chances of making it to the next station in time, too. So making the decision about whether to go for the Gilroy station anyway or not is crucial. I have this picture of myself driving along the train tracks racing the train to the next stop, but so far, I've resisted and just decided to drive the whole way when I've missed the first one. Yesterday, I pulled up into the parking lot just as the train was leaving. The day before yesterday, I didn't even think I had a shot and never exited the freeway.

Some days, I've been torn about whether to drive or not and ended up making the right call to drive. A few weeks ago, I debated a bit in the morning, actually woke up early and just didn't feel like waiting for the train. So I decided to drive, and man, was I glad that I did. That afternoon, as I was heading home, I heard that two trains had collided into each other (AND later, some one tried to jump in front of a train to commit suicide -- yup, wasting everybody's time with their misery, great, huh?) so Caltrain was running an hour to an hour and a half late in both directions!! That was a close one. I'm pretty sure I would have hated waiting around on a Fri afternoon, and G would have had to prove again what a joint adventure this all is by picking me up from San Jose. Though I have this feeling that he wouldn't have done it. Cuz he doesn't really value our marriage like I do. Fortunately, I was whizzing down the freeway in my car already by this point, so it never got to that.

I heard that a similar thing happened on another morning not long after. Again, a morning when I just didn't feel like waiting around.

So come to think of it, maybe this whole public transportation thing is working out just fine after all.

like when i was 23

Last weekend, we had one of those nights that I haven't had in a long time. You know, like the ones from your 20s, when you can't quite remember what happened? Well, ok, those were my 20s anyway, maybe into my early 30s. We had an engagment party to go to in the easy bay, and it was a friend's birthday also, and he wanted to do dinner/drinks in the city. So we decided to get a hotel room in SF. G started drinking early in the afternoon and was already buzzed when we headed to the city. We checked into the hotel, and headed over for dinner, a tapas place with great sangria. After dinner, we hit a salsa club. As the night progressed, I realized that everyone around me was getting plastered. One of the girls in our party actually worked at the club, and was able to hook up with tequila shots, and pretty much all the nasty drinks that I've sworn (multiple times) that I'd never touch again. Slowly the crowd started to dissipate, and we outlasted even the birthday boy. Finally, though, I was getting ready to go, and managed to drag everyone out. At this point, there were a few place sticking around that we didn't know, but we went out to grab a cab with our friends L and B.

Of course, though, we were in the boonies, it turned out and there were no cabs to be had. So after a couple of unsuccessful attempts, I finally managed to get on hold with a cab company and was waiting when my friend L decided that maybe we could just take the bus that was hanging out outside the club. Before I could stop everyone, the three of them were all boarding this random bus, and L was asking them to take us to the Marriott downtown. But she got a little distracted cuz it turned to be an Indian party bus, and they were playing really loud bhangra. So she started showing off her dance skills and pointed out that she had an Indian friend. I'm not sure how it all happened, but I was dragged in, too, to be shown off, which is always fun. Turns out they weren't really discriminatory. They were just as happy to ply everyone with drinks with or without a token Indian girl in tow. Before I knew it, L was dancing at the back of the bus. B was glancing at his wife in exasperation. G was getting straight scotch from some of the guys. It turns out they're part of this Punjabi Association in the city and ocassionally go out on the town and check the clubs.

So at this point, G was WAY FAR GONE. And the thing is, I know how he is. He's the best drunk in the world, but the hangovers are ridiculous. Like he's out all day ridiculous, whining and complaining about his stomach and his head and everybody suffers. I still remember a lovely weekend when he came to see me in San Diego, got drunk on the first night, and spent the rest of the weekend in bed. He won all kinds of bonus points that visit, as you can imagine. So I definitely did NOT want him drinking anymore. I was still on hold with the cab company and trying to grab scotch drinks from him left and right. But some how, I'd take one away and another would appear in his hand without me ever knowing where they came from. All the while insisting that he wasn't really drunk. No, not really. L was explaining to anyone that would listen that she had great Indian friends (but would start describing this girl who I'm pretty sure is Persian). G for some reason started talking to the guys (you know, cuz they were all bonding over Scotch) about how they should check out this strip club next. A man who was even more drunk and I think the culprit-enabler handing my husband plastic cup after plastic cup of scotch, explained that actually, they were here with their wives. Who, by the way, I'm sure were VERY THRILLED by my friend L showing off her dancing skills.

Unphased, G pushed forward. As near as I can figure, the whole incident reminded him a bit of this bachelor party he went to a few years ago where they hired some girls from Craig's List, and rented a party bus. I guess the girls did their show on the bus. This was the first I'd ever heard of the incident. Later that night, G would tell me all about it in detail with our friend B (who hadn't even been at the bachelor party) trying to change the subject, cuz you know, there's that whole guy code about bachelor parties. Anyway, I'm thinking now that the whole bachelor party thing was already in his head, cuz that's the only way I can explain what I overheard next - him explaining how the guys ccould actually even hire girls off Craig's List. OMG. Yup, I'm pretty sure that's what he said. My husband, ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much. I set aside my phone long enough to apologize, the man said that no apologies were necessary. He knew all about Craig's List. All rightie, then. Never mind. But he stuttered again that they were here with their wives, which I think sunk in with G at that point, cuz suddenly I felt his arms wrap around my neck and his voice saying that yah, he got that, he was here with his wife too.

Honestly, I don't know how I did it. Finally the cab came, and I was able to drag everyone off with me. B seemed to be sober too and making sure his wife got in the cab. I took one more scotch out of G's hands and dragged him in too. When we got back to the hotel, the consensus seemed to be that the best thing to do would be keep drinking even MORE, and we headed off to the bar. Which thank god wasn't serving anymore. L really wanted to go to the bar across the street, but I was pretty exhuasted by that point, and called it a night. And fortunately, they did too. Cuz the next morning, B, who I thought had been mostly sober was throwing up and almost had to be taken to the hospital to be my rehydrated. And G - as predicted - spend the day moaning and groaning. I spent the whole day waiting for him to feel up to heading up, and no shocker, he never felt like he was up for it. Instead, I just had to sit around the hotel room waiting around, watching crappy TV and being totally unsympathetic. I'd wanted to hang out in the city all day, and I guess I got my wish, just hadn't figured it'd be in a hotel room.

AND here's what was probably the most hilarious part about the whole evening. Cuz if you remember these types of evenings from your partying days, you remember how it goes, right? You'd be shutting down the bars, crawling into bed at 3 in the morning, maybe drinking some water or taking a Tylenol if you have your wits about you, and fall asleep partially in your bar hopping clothes. Right? Right? Well, I guess we had a little version of that going too, except that guess what time it was when I crawled into bed that night (after helping G off the floor cuz he fell while trying to get on the bed)? A whopping 12:30 AM. Seriously.

the tired me

So far, public transportation hasn't exactly been easy. Its not that I'm opposed to it, I'm just wondering why they can't make it more convenient around here. Around the world, people rely on buses, trains, and cabs, and they're able to get where they need to go with relative ease. But I'm realizing that for me, probably cuz I don't live very close to a big city and because I don't think the US is really the King of Convenient Public Transportation, getting to work suddenly has been taking longer, is more expensive, and is a downright pain in the ass.


First of all, it actually took me a while to plan the route. Nothing comes near my house. Caltrain, the South Bay Area's train system, comes only as far as Gilroy, which is about 20 miles from me. And they actually have only 3 trains that come all the way down, most others go only as far as San Jose, 45 miles away. So 3 possible trains each way. THEN, none of them go close to work. At least not walking distance close. So I had a few options:

• Take the train to the downtown San Jose station and get on a downtown shuttle (25 min drive to Gilroy, 50 minutes on the train, up to 15 minute wait for the shuttle, about 7-8 minutes on the shuttle, and dropped off a few blocks from work)


• Take the train to a station south of downtown and find an alternate mode of transport to work (there's a light rail that gets there in about 5 minutes so seemed like that would work in theory (25 minute drive to Gilroy, 42 minutes on the train, 5 minute light rail ride, and dropped off almost in front of work). It's actually not that bad, takes only a few min longer than it takes me to drive and park.

So of course I opted for #2, and I tried that on my first day. And I discovered that Light Rail was designed by retards. Its slow, it's painful, apparently its often late. But the worst thing was that it's not at all set to coordinate with Caltrain. The afternoon light rail is actually scheduled to arrive a minute or two after Caltrain takes off. So basically, I came running up, and the train was just pulling away. AWESOME, I wonder what genius decided that would be the best schedule. Unlike Caltrain, light rail runs every 15 minutes, so I guess its not a huge deal to take the earlier one or wait an extra 15 minute in the morning (because the morning was totally off too, did I mention -- I got off Caltrain just as a light rail train was taking off, apparently a minute or two BEFORE Caltrain is set to get there). But here's the thing. When I drive all the way from home, the whole trip takes me about 55 minutes. So I'm already spending WAY more time getting to work. I don't also want to spend a bunch of time waiting at each turn. Its one thing if I could just get on near the house and hang out til I got to work. But each time I transferred, I had to wait, and it all adds up. I don't want to be spending 2 hrs each way on my commute.

The other thing is that my work is super particular about working a full 8 and a half hour day. I'm sure I've complained about how we have to sign in and out. So dammit, I'm not ready to work even a minute more than I have to. But with the lack of train frequency, and the lack of coordination between the different modes of transportation, I couldn't make the train work without having to work a half hr extra every day (or barely missing the train by 2 minutes in the afternoon). Which all pretty much resulted in me leaving the house at 6:05 AM and coming home at 6pm. Ugh. With almost 4 of those hours spent commuting (and actually, most of that excess time spent waiting somewhere - which has also been fun with the recent cold spell).

But, it was relaxing to not have to drive. I didn't have to sit in traffic. I didn't have drive into work half asleep still. And I didn't have to pay for parking (plus my work reimbures a bit for using public transportation), so it actually did end up being a bit cheaper. Not to mention the costs of wear and tear on my car, the gas, the more frequent oil checks all associated with driving. So I kept looking for ways to maximize the process, and came up with option #3:

• Take the train in the morning and the bus in the afternoon. The bus comes right in front of work. It runs a little more frequently, and drops off at the Caltrain station where I left my car in the morning. So that seemed like the way to go.

EXCEPT, you know what? The bus is MISERABLE! OMG, people actually take that stupid thing every day???? You can't lean back, the seats are really uncomfortable. It was super crowded, so I amost couldn't sit down, and when I did, I was scrunched in pretty tightly between a couple of people. It stunk. And it stopped like EVERY TWO SECONDS. Dude, it was supposed to be an express bus, and actually cost more because it was an express bus. But no, apparently express just means it gets on the freeway, makes good time for a while, and then just gets off the freeway a lot to accommodate every single person on the stupid thing except me. People in Morgan Hill, for example, need to be dropped off right in front of their house. Once, and I kid you not, we stopped just before a light, waited at the red light, crossed the intersection, and stopped again. Like seriously folks, you could have walked to the stop faster than it took. It took the bus a half hour to go the same distance it would have taken me 7 minutes to drive. I know, cuz the next time I drove, I timed it. By the time we got to my car in Gilroy, there were only a few people left on the bus. I think most everyone else had decided to get off and walk the rest of the way.

I might have tried it again just to give it one more shot, but I was nauseous for the rest of the night, and couldn't imagine coming home like that everyday. The bus came to screeching halts. There were random bumps for no reason. And overall, it just felt like I was in an hour long earthquake or roller coaster ride. It doesn't take much for me get motion sickness, either, so that option is a definite no go.

So I'm still trying to figure out the best way to go. Next time, I'm working on option number #4:

• Take the latest possible Caltrain in the morning + light rail (shortest wait time between Caltrain and Light Rail with this option plus I get to get off south of downtown which gives me less total train time). The whole route is actually well coordinated so total travel time in the morning is just 1hr 15 minutes, only about 15 minutes longer than what it would take me to drive. Then take a bus in the afternoon to the train station, which would get me to the Caltrain station with just enough time to spare (as opposed to light rail which would make me get there after Caltrain leaves). If it works, it would let me take the first possible train in the afternoon, thus reducing my overall commute time. It pretty much requires me running to everything (so maybe no more heels to work) but if it works, it'll be the best option yet.
  

Is your head spinning yet? Cuz I know mine is. And this is seriously the way I felt for a whole week or more while I was trying to route all this out. In a way, it was a bit addictive. I spent every free moment at work for an entire week perusing bus and rail maps (totally cutting in on my blog and websurfing time, hence the preparation I referred to in my previous post). And of course things always look all right on paper, but it's a lot less fun putting it all into action. Cuz that requires that everything runs exactly on time, including me. Which is a huge IF. So I've been running into all sorts of those issues too, but I'll save that for the next post. And here I thought that the freaks would be my biggest worry.

the new me

First of all, I have to say that I'm disappointed. I think 3 of you commented on the pregnancy rule-out, and I'm shocked. Really? You thought that if I were pregnant, that this is the way I'd reveal it to you? In my blog? You didn't think I'd maybe have said something to you sooner? Wow. Anyway, at least for the 3 of you, you can rest assured that if that day ever comes, you'll probably find out long before I go public to the rest of the world. Especially since I think it was mostly family that even brought it up? Which was also kind of interesting. I actually thought everyone would have thought it was job-related, seeing as how I'm always complaining about work, and kind of really dislike it a lot.

ANYWAY . . . thanks for the great guesses. Lisa, you definitely get the prize for the best guess cuz I was cracking up when I read it. Sadly, none of them were right.

Nope, actually, I'm proud to say that I've recently entered the world of environmentally friendly commuting!! So basically, for some reason or another I've chosen to torture myself with public transportation. Which in the past hasn't really worked so well for me, mostly cuz I'm a huge bum magnet. I don't know what it is, but I have a big sign on my head that says. "Are you a loser? Please come talk to me." I used to ride the bus a fair amount right after I graduated from college and didn't have a car. And I'd have to say that I've been stared at, drooled on, proposed to, you name it, its happened. Once, on a slightly longer ride, I sat next to some kid who fell asleep next to me, woke up, and told me about this dream he'd had where we'd (as in he and I, to each other) gotten married. He looked slightly drugged out and had a hospital bracelet on his wrist. Awesome. I looked for the nearest exit just in case.

Another time, in Portugal, I got followed onto a train by a very loud Portuguese man. He had been talking to me on the platform while we waited (mostly actually at me since I didn't really understand what he was saying and was looking for every possible way to ditch him) and then just followed me onto the train. It was the middle of the night and most of the other passengers were asleep, at least until he came in with his loud booming voice. I was mostly worried that people would think we were together. I hadn't considered the possibility though that he'd sit right next to me, fall asleep, lean his head onto my shoulder and start snoring and drooling. Clearly, I hadn't guessed how much worse the situation could get. By the next morning, I was way beyond caring what other people on the train thought and just wondered how much longer I could deal before shooting myself.

So here I am, looking forward to some great times ahead. It's already been going wonderfully, too. I'll have to tell you guys all about it in future posts, but for now, I just didn't want to keep you in suspense any longer. What do you think? Way too much drama for nothing? :)

Free Starbucks card

So I know that I was a bit hit-or-miss with the postings over the last few weeks. I hit a lot of dry spells where I just couldn't think of much to blog about. Plus I'm about to enter a new stage in my life, and I was a bit busy a few weeks ago preparing for it. Since it might be a little slow this week also, I was thinking I might give y'all a chance to guess what my new adventure might be. Whoever comes the closest will be mailed a $5 Starbucks gift card (Don't worry - I'll ask you offline where to send it to, so my entire readership of 5 whole regulars won't be able to track you down and steal it from you). Or, if no one comes close, the funniest guess will get the card. Come on, guys, you know you want to guess. OH, and if Starbucks isn't your thing, I might be persuaded to make it a gift card for something else, assuming it's something I can get a hold of fairly easily.

I'll give you a few hints. I'm NOT pregnant, dying of a slow and painful disease, or changing jobs. It is something I've been talking about for a while now, so I might have mentioned it to some of you. And I'm hoping it'll help with some blog fodder, though that wasn't the primary purpose.

I'll probably break down and tell you all about it by about Wed or so, so hurry up and get your guesses in before then.

Jennie Lakes Wilderness

So I know I spent some time whining about our camping trip yesterday. And definitely it could have gone much better, but we did manage to get in a very nice day hike before we headed back home. The weather was gorgeous and the wilderness beautiful. I don't know if it was because of the time of year or what, but I think that aside from a few random people now and again, we had the whole trail to ourselves which was pretty darn cool. Since we had been planning on just backpacking, we didn't really even have a day pack with us. So we threw in some snacks and water into G's big pack and took that along with us. G loved that he got to carry it most of the way, I could tell. I mean, that look on his face was just pure joy. I waited til the way back (and it was mostly empty and we were walking downhill) to offer to carry it the rest of the way. But you know, I'm thinking it would have hurt his sense of manhood to NOT lug that thing around, right? I'm guessing though that he, for one, is so happy that all we did was a day hike.


When we first headed out, we couldn't even find the trailhead. All we saw was the big grassy plain above, and figured well, the dogs seemed excited, so maybe that was the way to go. It turns out that the start of the trail was supposed to have a tiny little trail sign (this one above was taken along the trail later on). But maybe due to the recent rain storms, the one at the trailhead had been completely knocked out. So we didn't feel as completely stupid as we might have. Anyway, we came across the start of the trail eventually, but it took a lot of circling around the parking lot in what was basically marsh land (again the recent rains . . . ). There was even this awesome moment when Tucker and Mia ended up on the banks of this little creek and couldn't make their way up for the life of them. We were so busy laughing at them that I didn't think to take my camera out, and by the time I did, Mia had realized she could go around (most of the area was just grass with a bit of water, so I'm not sure why they picked that particular spot to try to walk through in the first place. Tucker finally struggled up, too. G tried to throw him back into the water so that I could get my pics, but he got wise and found a shallower embankment to cut through.


The day hike we did was out to Weaver Lake and back (7 miles round trip). I hear its not as nice as Jennie Lakes where we would have gone if we'd actually stayed the extra day like we were planning, but still, it was very pretty.

Mia, as always was excited to get out in the water. I had a few pics of her swimming but I guess I forgot to email those to myself last night. Work pretty much blocks all photo sites, so can't go grab them now til I get home. Oh well, just for good measure (and cuz I'm a little biased), I threw in another cute picture of her below, all before she was soaking wet. Possibly while they were all begging for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

On the way back home that night, we picked up on some Thai food to go in Fresno, so we even got a ltitle tour of the ghetto. I ordered blind by phone, and apparently I demonstrated my knowledge of Thai food so well that the guy who took my order (Steve) asked if I worked in a Thai restaurant. Cuz, you know, I ordered such obscure dishes as yellow and red curry, and asked if they had drunken noodles. I mean, come on, I could have been a native. But I'm thinking that in Fresno, maybe the closest to authentic they get is a fellow Thai restaurant staff member?? I dunno, but if you're ever driving through Fresno, I'd skip the Thai food and keep on going. Especially if its some place that seems to double as a club and tells you that they don't actually have yellow curry.

"the worst night ever"

This last weekend, G and I went camping, proving yet again that we're not really meant for physical labor, er, I mean exercise. It was kind of a last minute thing. We'd both been a bit stressed and thought it'd be nice to get out of town and be active. But I had really wanted to get some info during the week before heading out so that we didn't just show up somewhere with no idea of what we were doing. And I wanted to backpack, which always takes a bit more planning, and well, packing. I didn't get a chance to do either during the week. So Thurs night, I suggested that maybe we shouldn't go, and just hang out at home over the weekend. G, ever the optimist, wondered what the big deal with planning was and thought we could just get up early Fri, pack up our stuff, and head out. Pick up some trail maps at the ranger station on the way in, and we'd be set.

So that's what we did. We went to Jennie Lakes Wilderness in Sequoia National Forest. And it all sounded good until we actually started heading out. For one thing, it took us most of the day to dig up our camping gear from the garage and get going. Plus we needed a few essentials along the way (like water), so that slowed us down too . So what thing leading to another, by the time we got to the area, not only was the ranger station closed - so no maps - but it was pitch black. I complained for most of the last hour about how terrible it was going to be to set up our tent in the dark. And we couldn't even pick the best campsite, dammit! I'm kind of like a broken record when it comes to whining too, so I'm sure it made for a fun car ride for G.

We get there and of course everything takes forever in the dark, pitching the tent, feeding the dogs, everything. But we finally get it together and G starts to build a fire. Except that the fire won't get going. No matter what we did, we just couldn't get it to take off. I think they had some rain a while back and that probably didn't help. We only had a little lighter too, and that at some point seemed like it was in danger of dying pretty soon, which would have been awesome. Anyway, G thought maybe it'd help to get the stove going, and use that to try to light the twigs and paper.

So we pulled that out of our backpack, and stumbled onto our next problem. The stove. So I should say that the stove is mine, but I haven't used it in like 5 years. So how was I to remember that it takes some special type of gas canister? Apparently it does, cuz we couldn't attach the canister for the life of us, and when we looked at the directions (also hard in the dark), we realized we might have a problem. So this is where we're at. It's almost 9 o'clock at night by this point. We have no fire, no stove, it's already pretty darn cold. I was in full bitch mood, complaining constantly about how it was the "worst night ever" and this is what we get for trying to do something without planning it properly. And isn't it just like G to assume everything would just work out on its own. On and on and on. Again, good times for G. And for any campers nearby who got to hear my little tirade.

We finally decided to just go to bed (and guess what, just as we were about to turn in, the fire started randomly, go figure). Anyway, you figure things can't get much worse when you're just sleeping, right? But no, within a couple of hours, we realize that its WAY TOO COLD for us to sleep. Even the dogs (who were all practically laying on top of us) were freezing. We tossed and turned for a while and finally, G thought it may be better to just go sleep in the car and turn on the heat for a while until we warmed up. So we did that, and it was a lot better in terms of heat but I don’t know how many of you have seen my car. The seats lay down in the back, but I definitely wouldn't call it roomy. Definitely not enough for 2 people and 3 dogs. The rest of my night consisted of me being twisted up in some position with a dog laying between me and G, and another at our heads, randomly stepping on my hair. The back of my car kind of slopes down too, so the whole night, we got to enjoy the comfortable feeling of sliding off a cliff. I'd say the only one comfortable that night was Bandit, who had the best seat in the house. We threw her a thrown the front seat, laid it back a little, and she seemed pretty darn content, lucky dog. What was awesome about that was that the front seat inclined back right into my legs, so guess who got to pay the price for her comfort?

Sat morning, we had breakfast. Got the fire going thank god - now that we realized that the trick was to start getting it going, and then do everything else we needed to do like take down our tent and pack up before it suddenly bursts into life, it was easy. We loaded up the car, did a day hike, and decided to drive home that day. And in retrospect, that was probably best for all of us, seeing as how we're all out of shape and probably couldn't have managed carrying two big packs around and hiking for 2 days straight. As it is, the dogs could barely move when we got home, and we weren't exactly in tip top shape either. So what do you know, I guess G is right after all. Things always do just work out. Yup, definitely the best camping trip I've ever been on.

holy-is-there-an-echo-in-here?

Last week, my always great for laughs co-worker U sent around an email saying she wanted to try this new pho place and did anyone want to go with her? I said no, I'm usually unimpressed with the veggie selections at pho joints. The following conversation ensued (except imagine if you can, it being much more painfully long and drawn out. To be honest, I can't capture how ridiculous any conversation with her is. It usually involves her taking whatever you say and making it about her and launching into some boring story. A prime example was the day she took over my co-worker's telling us about her honeymoon, and it suddenly became a conversation about how U is dying to go to Italy and has been planning a trip for some time, but she's been to France lots of times and just doesn't like it. I mean, she goes to France like it were LA, but something about it just doesn't feel friendly. Etc. Etc. Etc.):

U: Are you sure, I'm sure there'll be lots of vegetarian food.

S: Yah? I don't know. I like pho but most places have only meat. And even if they have some sort of veggie noodle dish, the broth will be chicken or beef.

U: Oh no, I know lots of pho places with good veggie options.

S: Ooh, I'd love some recommendations if you have any. I haven't had any luck with places I've been to in San Jose.

U: Oh, all the places I know are in LA. (This part of the conversation was a lot like the one we'd had - though conversation is a bit of a generous term - about some random awesome bus company in LA that had the most comfortable buses ever, and if they had those here in the Bay, she'd be taking buses everywhere. All because I happened to make a comment about homeless bums on buses.)

Well, great. Fat lot of good that does me. And why would you then assume there'll be veggie options if you in fact have no idea? But even worse was where the conversation went next, and I'm still unclear about how it happened exactly. But since I've noticed that conversations frequently turn into lectures, I guess I just went with it and kept looking for a good break to get back to work (yes, believe it or not, I'd rather be working).

U: For traditional Vietnamese pho, it's all in the broth. To be authentic, it has to be made with beef broth (sometimes chicen). I think there was a bit of discussion here about the broth is made. And then noodles and beef. A lot of places don't do it the right way, and just have basically what's just a noodle soup with meat.

All right, does anyone catch the hilarity here? I mean, I don't know, her people might know how to make a good pho, but they certainly can't seem to follow a conversation properly. I'm sorry, I thought the whole idea of there being no veggie options was totally ridiculous, especially in LA? She continued on obliviously for who knows how long.

And by the way, she reported back to me after lunch that oh yah, I had been right. Not a single veggie item on the menu.

going local

This week, on Monday afternoon, G + I ventured into a new part of town, unusual for us with the town being so small and all. We turned onto a small residential street, no more than a couple of blocks long. We spotted the address we were looking for, and G followed slowly behind while I darted over to do my pick up. I glanced around furtively, then unable to resist, looked through the bags that were sitting on the porch. I found the one that I was looking for and grabbed it, trying to see what was inside. It felt like I was doing something illegal, maybe picking up my dope or stealing something. For a dealer's house, it was an unlikely location, a 2-story house on a quiet street, with elaborate Halloween decorations on most of the front lawns. But then again, so is Nancy Botwin's house on Weeds. They can't all be like the place that my friend and I went to for our pick up in Cabo San Lucas.

But actually, it was about as far from a drug buy as you could get. Unless you're addicted to veggies. G and I were picking up our first CSA order. I've been reading a lot about CSAs (Community-Supported Agriculture) lately and have been curious about trying one out. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, a CSA is a way in which local farmers sell "shares" to the public. A share consists of a box or bag of veggies and fruits. You sign up for the season for whatever size of bag you want, and each week, you get it filled with local, organically grown veggies. Drop-offs are made to various locations, and at my allotted time, I get to go make the pick-up. Some CSAs don't give you an option about vegetables you get. The one I just joined sends out an order form each week with the available selections for that week, and I can pick off the list. Or, if I want to be surprised, or am feeling lazy, they'll select for me. Drop-offs are at various community locations all along the Bay Area, including large work sites, homes, parking lots, the farm itself, etc.

I'm excited about how all this works. I feel great about supporting the local farmers, and I look forward to trying out some new veggies that I don't normally cook with. Granted it's a bit more expensive than buying at a grocery store. But everything is organic, and I don't have to spend forever looking for passable vegetables at Safeway. I think G's still a bit skeptical. Between him working for a produce company and our garden, we already have access to lots of vegetables. But since this doesn't stop me from going to the grocery store for more, I'm convinced this is better.

So this week, we got arugula, golden beets, strawberries, apples, bell peppers, and shallots.
(I forgot to include the shallots in the pic)

Last night's dinner featured store-bought pumpkin ravioli sauteed together with garlic, beet greens, shallots, red bell pepper, and our garden tomatoes. Tonight I was thinking of trying out an arugula salad with roasted beets and goat cheese. See, already I'm using vegetables that I don't normally cook with.

enjoying the rain

Clearly, Mia does NOT appreciate the rain like I do. Most days lately, she's been hanging out in the backyard when we're at work. This was her this morning as G was leaving for work . . .

it's raining, it's pouring

When I was a kid, I loved walking in the rain. And for a long time, my mother was horrified, absolutely convinced that a quick soak could lead to a cold, fever, the chills, and quite possibly death. I'm pretty sure she wasn't the only one. I have a vague memory of a thunderstorm in India one summer a long time ago and me running out the moment it started. My aunt practically had a conniption. Fortunately, my dad - who would have usually been the first one yelling at me to get back in the house - was also a bit of a contrarian. My aunt's disapproval had the entirely opposite effect of calming him down and suddenly convinced of the benefits of a drenching thunderstorm. I let them duke that one out on their own. But yes, in case you've been wondering, my family really is that crazy. Over the years, my mom learned to deal with my constant taunting of death and instead just focused on making sure I was warm enough before going out. Growing up in Oregon, where it drizzes 9 months out of the year, you can imagine it was a constant battle. I think she hoped that one day, I'd outgrow the whole thing. That it was all just my way of being a difficult child.

But if that's the case, then she's still waiting. Because I still love nothing more than a good storm. For more than a week now, they've been forecasting one here in the Bay Area. And here, its not like Oregon. We're lucky if we see a couple of good storms a year, and rarely one in Oct. So I've been waiting on the edge of my seat for this one. And finally, today it's here. And while a lot of people are complaining about how wet and terrible it is outside, I'm wishing we had more days like this. I love everything about it. The cool breeze before the rain starts, when you can almost smell the storm coming. Hearing the wind outside our window in the middle of the night. Waking up to the patter of raindrops.

Of all the things I miss about the Pacific Northwest, the weather tops my list. I get a lot of odd looks for saying that. And I know that a lot of people who actually live in the NW get bummed out during the gray months. It's true, maybe it does get a bit old. But I'd take that any day of the week to the 80-degree weather I had to endure in San Diego for the entire 3 years that I was there. In fact, these last few weeks here, when the weather's been crisp, the evenings cooler, the hint of fall in the air, is - to me - the best time of year. We never had that in SD.

And I have to admit, lately I've had a little case of the blah's. I've been struggling to find material for the blog, and with stuff in general. But not today. Today, I woke up alert and ready to go (only two snoozes this morning!). I didn't even need a cup of coffee to wake me up, though of course I had one anyway when I got into work. But for once, I was totally awake while driving in - I know, totally scary thought to think about the 355 other days of the year. There's something about rain that energizes me. I exercise more cuz how amazing and peaceful is it is go running in the rain. Its funny, too. When I run, I always come across some other person who are out there, too. And they almost always give me a "aren't we two peas in a pod" look, maybe say something about how nothing stops us from our daily run, eh? I don't like to admit that I'm not a running fanatic like they are (Or Canadian for that matter, but that's another story). That I'm not out there despite the weather. And that about the only time I can muster up the energy to go running at all is when its wet out. The dogs get more walks, too, whether they like it. I strongly suspect from their behavior this morning that they'd much rather curl up in their beds when its raining outside. And actually, that's pretty nice, too - sitting around in my pj's with a dog on my lap, watching the rain come down. Everything seems better when its raining (except for maybe driving, which I had to do this morning, but whatever, I'm not letting anything get me down today).

I've been hearing a lot lately that its a La Nina year, so we can expect more rain in general. I say bring it on. Its about time.

morning surprise

5:50 am this morning - I have an actual shot at being into work sort of close to the time I want be in (Yesterday, I missed my exit on the freeway even though I've been driving to work for sometime now. Yes, it has been one of those weeks. On Mon, I lost my credit card and work ID while running down the street to get coffee; luckily I finally found the credit card laying on the sidewalk after my third time walking the route looking for it. AND the parking security guy handed me my badge after I gave up and headed back to the office, so the week hasn't been all bad. I guess some one turned the badge in. But seriously, that's just been the tip of the iceberg this week.) Anyway, back to this morning --

5:51- opened our kitchen pantry to grab a quick morning snack on my way out and saw something scurrying through the dry goods

5:52 - work G up, and we tried to find the little critter. Was hoping it was just a cockroach or something (cuz I couldn't tell if it was flying or not) but had this sinking feeling that it wasn't

2 seconds later, G saw it too and what do you know, yup, we have a mouse! EWWW

The last time I had mice, it was terrible. One summer, I came up to the bay and sublet my room in San Diego. I don't know what my roommates and subletter were doing all summer, but when I got back, the whole condo was infested. And it was nasty. Mouse droppings everywhere (including the dresser full of clothes I had left in my closet - come on, really? So basically someone at some point decided it was a good idea to eat in my closet and leave crumbs in my dresser). And I guess everyone decided to wait to solve the problem until the mice had multiplied like crazy. I ended up buying huge bins to store all my food and got glue traps to set eveywhere. And I gotta tell you, there's nothing better than opening a kitchen drawer and finding a mouse stuck to a glue trap, still quivering with life. Thanks, guys.

So clearly, I have some lingering trauma from the experience.

And yah, we have a mouse. It scurried from the pantry and then ran under our washer/dryer, and we lost sight of it after that. I wish I'd thought to step on it, but instead, I did the unthinkable and squealed. The stupid dogs didn't even come running til after the excitement was all over too - totally useless! Dammit, the thing looked pretty full too, so I wonder what it got after already. Its a big pantry and pretty much contains all of our dry goods (and chocolate!). Good times.

Perfect Invention

So how cool is this? I was listening to NPR on my way home last night, and they were talking about a new product to come out on the market. It's called a "Bheestie" bag, and it apparently brings your electronics back to life after they've been submerged in water.



Now, I'm not usually a product pusher. Or a geek for that matter (not with the techie stuff anyway). But come on, this is pretty nifty. And way overdue, in my opinion.

Though, ok, I guess I'm in need of this more than most people. Seeing as how two out of my last 3 phones met with unfortunate water accidents. And actually, the third, I lost while out walking the dogs. But it was super wet out that morning, and I think the most likely story is that my phone fell out of my pocket in the dewy grass somewhere and died shortly after (because I kept trying to call it and got my voicemail). So I guess that's sort of a watery ending too.

The first was a total fluke. Dude, that phone was on a suicide mission, I swear. This is what happened. One night, I got thirsty and got some water. Drank about half and then left the cup on the floor next to my bed, went right back to sleep. Which is odd to begin with, I don't know why I put my water glass on the floor instead of the night stand, but I guess I was groggy. Anyway, my phone was on the night stand. So the next morning, I was reaching over to turn off my alarm clock, accidentally knocked over my phone and it landed, you guessed it, right in the cup of water. Which is crazy, seeing as how I could have tried to aim in that direction and thrown it for decades without ever making it in. Anyway, there went that phone. If I'd only had the Bheestie bag!!

Anyway, so then I got a new phone, and promply went for a swim with it in my pocket. Well, not intentionally. When Mia was a puppy, and I was still living in San Diego, we used to go out walking on Fiesta Island. Mia had a toss toy that she loved, and I'd throw it in the water, and when she was in the mood, she'd bring it back to me. When she wasn't, I'd just play with myself and run in and get it. (The little f'er -- she'd always seem like she wanted to play too, until any actual fetching became involved, so she'd fool me everytime). Anyway, this one time, I threw it too far, and the current was stronger than I'd expected too. Mia kept trying and trying to go out for it, but it'd keep getting farther and farther away. And I mean FAR. That poor dog swam like her life depended on it trying to get her toy back. And after a while, she just couldn't even see it anymore but she'd still keep swimming in the general direction hoping to run into it. I felt bad, and early on, before it was miles away (well, ok, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it was pretty darn far), I ran in to try to grab it. Well, anyway, that story doesn't end well, and it was a bad day for everyone. We never did get the toy. Poor Mia kept staring off into the distance for like half an hour before I could finally convince her to let it go. And I apparently had my phone in my pocket the whole time.

So of course, I'm ecstatic about the new Bheestie bag. Though they were saying on NPR that the old home remedy was to submerge your phone in a bowl of uncooked rice, and that sometimes did the trick too. I guess the rice absorbs the moisture. I wish I'd know that before I spent hundreds of dollars on buying crappy new phones (that I would then lose almost immediately).

Quick Fri Update

• All right, it's official. I'm losing it. Earlier this week, I spent 15 minutes looking for my keys. Granted it was at around 6 in the morning, so you gotta cut me some slack. But after searching and searching, guess where they were? Just sitting there under my purse which wouldn't be super demoralizing except guess where I spent most of those 15 minutes searching? IN my purse. Argh. Then, the other night, I went to meet a friend for coffee at the Christian coffee shop down the street (a local church leased the space, and now it's basically a hang out for kids who belong to that church). I was expecting to see the place filled with teenagers playing chess and/or smoking outside, which it was. But what I didn't expect was to pay $4.10 for a small and terrible smoothie. And then I didn't expect to lose my change there some how so that I ended up paying almost $20 for that stupid smoothie that I probably took 10 sips from. G and I walked back with a flashlight, and surprise surprise, no sign of my $ anywhere.
• This was kind of odd yesterday. Normally, I get about 6-7 regular readers on this blog. And I know who you guys are. So I don't pay too much attention to the stats on my tracker anymore. I also think I might have a couple of people that I don't know about who seem to drop by on occasion, which is cool. So I think the most I've ever had in a single day is about 10 people checking in. OK, so this is the strange part. Yesterday I had 41!!!!! And as much as I'd like to think its a sudden spurt in readership, I know its not. I mean, that's a pretty huge jump for one day. And I'm guessing its not you guys suddenly spreading the word. Unless y'all happen to know people in some pretty odd locations, such as small towns in Alabama and Penn or Korea. So I'm pretty confused and it's driving me nuts. If there's anyone out there that knows anything about how this sort of stuff works and has an idea of what may be going on, I'd love to hear from you. What's especially odd is that I have the blog set so that its not picked up on internet searches. So it'd be hard for some one to accidentally stumble onto it. Despite that, I did wonder if the sudden interest had something to do with a certain word I used yesterday (remember, I was venting about Roman Polanski, and I mentioned what he did to that girl?). Is that possible? But that's odd too. Cuz the stats show me the entry page that people use to first enter the site, and for the most part, people just seem to be checking out one of my posts from the India trip. Weird, right?

Want fame? Try pedophilia. . .

Ok, I've just about had it. First, I was really annoyed when the Philadelphia Eagles signed on Michael Vick. Honestly, I'm guessing he was still in prison when they finalized the deal because I don't think he was even eligible to play right away. Never mind that he had been involved in running a massive ILLEGAL dog-fighting ring. Where he had been involved in breeding hundreds of dogs to fight. Apparently, he killed those that didn't perform by methods that included hanging, drowing, and slamming one dog's head to the ground. And I'm guessing a lot of them died while fighting, or were so wounded that they were just happy to be put out of their misery. Whatever, let's put that guy back up on the pedestal and give him millions of dollars. They recently did an interview on Fresh Air about dog-fighting, and I almost cried. The dogfighting world is even crueler and crazier than you could have imagined. And sure, I know. Vick did his time and shouldn't have to keep paying for his criminal act. But since when did that equal "let's just forget he's a turd and do everything we can to return him back to his previous glory"? Oh, he's not making ENOUGH money playing football? How about a Nike deal? Do we know how to treat ex-cons right or what?

So THEN, Michael Jackson died. And we celebrated the passing of that great pedophile with a huge funeral service in LA. That the cash-strapped city paid for. I know, I know, he was great once. But come on, people, when he died, he was a freak who had probably molested who knows how many kids. Suddenly, Hollywood greats who hadn't even talked to him in years were waxing poetic at his funeral. Sales of his records sky-rocketed. Was I the only person who was fed up by all the hype?

And now, its this. Roman Polanski. The guy who raped and sodomized a 13yo girl. Oh, and happened to make a couple of good movies, too. Good god. Have you guys heard of all the Hollywood celebrities coming out in support for this guy? Pardon my French, but what the fuck!! Apparently there's a petition out there asking for his release, signed by the likes of Woody Allen (all right, well, of course he signed it, what with there being unity among pervs and all), Martin Scorcese, and what do you want to bet Mel Gibson (you know, cuz he knows what it's like to be thought of as a prick in general). Whoopi apparently said on the "View" that he knew he was sorry (which is all that matters, really). And reminded the world (or at least the 3 people that still watch that show) that what he actually pled to was sexual misconduct, not rape. Um, lady, maybe you're not familiar with the concept, but that's what you do in a plea agreement. Plead to a lesser charge. It doesn't mean that he didn't actually do what he was originally charged with.

How awesome is it that he was on his way to get a Lifetime Achievement Award when he was arrested. What an achievement his life has been. And I love Debra Winger's comment about his case being "all but dead, except for a minor technicality." Sure, the technical part being where he admitted to commiting a crime and then fled the country before he could be sentenced. We don't need to actually put criminals away. We just need to find them guilty, and then everything after that is just bonus points. Or what about that other comment about how he had this great life except for this "one little mistake" he made 32 years ago. Wow, you'd almost think he was talking about a traffic ticket instead of drugging, raping, and sodomizing a thirteen year old girl (whose parents, by the way, win the worst parents of the year award for leaving a 13 yo alone and modeling for a 44 year old man, but don't even get me started).

I know Hollywood opinions aren't necessarily the opinions of rational people. But the whole thing makes me a little sick.

last word

So I absolutely promise that this is the LAST time I'll complain about that training I just had to endure. I know its been the fodder of more than a couple of posts, and you're probably all getting about as tired of it as I was. But to add insult to a whole host of injuries, this was how our last day played out:
8am - 9am Donut breakfast
9 - 9:30 Yada yada yada, discovery of yet another computer issue (this happened almost daily)
9:30 - 9:45 Break while they tried to get the computers up and running
9:45 - 11:00 Possibly the most boring lecture in the world, offering a cursory glance at a topic that every law student knows inside and out
11:00 - 12:00 More yada
12:30 - 12:30 Hemming, hawing, attempting to figure out what to talk about next, inviting people to have more donuts
12:30 - 2:00 Lunch (man, was I thrilled to get a whole hour and a half in exciting Auburn; my co-worker and I went to the mall)
2:00 - 2:20 Stupid little awards ceremony where we had to go up to receive our certificate of endurance (er, i mean completion) and high five all of the instructors; this must be so what graduating from AA must be like
2:20 - DONE (though people that rode the bus had to wait until 3:30)

So is it just me or could all this have been accomplished in half the time, so that I could have actually caught an earlier flight at 2 instead of waiting around til 5????? I heard that the one highlight was that the donuts were pretty good. But since I don't really like donuts, I wouldn't know. And anyway, they would have had to be some amazing (possibly pot-filled?) donuts to make that day worthwhile.

I'm back in the office now, and I guess the one thing that can be said for the whole experience is that I have a new found appreciation for my job. Cuz yesterday, I kept telling myself that it could be A LOT worse, and I could be back in training. But no, it wasn't all bad. I got to hang out with my brother and his awesome girlfriend a lot. :) I saw some other friends I don't get to see often. G came up for the weekend, and it was almost like we had decided to go to Seattle all on our own for a little getaway (and chosen to stay in Federal Way).

Over the course of the two weeks, I tried to think of a good response to tell people at work when they asked me how training went, as pretty much everyone has. I finally settled on, "Well, I'm glad to be home." Sounds neutral right? But that lasted for a whole five minutes before I was complaining to my director about just how bad it was (in a very constructive way, of course). Clearly, I'm not one for lying or subterfuge. So instead, I've now decided to take my comments to a higher source, as well. Recently, I got an email saying that as part of the budget process, President Obama is looking for feedback from all federal employees for ways in which their agency can reduce costs and improve efficiency. I think our budget for training is a great place to start.

Auburn highlights

• Coming from Federal Way, there's a sign as soon you hit Auburn that says "Welcome. We are building an inclusive community." So I guess at some point, they told the gays and brown people that they could come back in. And notice how they're still building. So they're working on it but haven't quite gotten there yet. This is how I imagine it all went down. There was a huge cross-burning problem a while back, and they didn't quite know how to deal with, but the city council did manage to put up the sign to let everyone know that they were working hard to figure it out. I didn't get a chance to take a picture of the sign but did find it online.

Notice how the city managed to find a token disabled person, black person, Indian guy with a turban, Asian, and Mexican(?) to showcase their new inclusivity. I'm guessing these people were recruited from Seattle to make life here seem more inviting.

• The hotel (Marriott) we stayed at - On the first morning, I came down for breakfast and started eating. I thought it was a fairly nice breakfast for a hotel. More than just your typical continental stuff. I was still recovering from the flu that first morning and hadn't gotten my appetite back. But they had eggs, potatoes, etc. I grabbed some scrambled eggs and toast and looked forward to being able to take more advantage in a couple of days. Anyway, I was sitting there nibbling on my toast and suddenly some one came by with a bill! For $14.25!!!!! I have to say that's probably the most expensive toast I've ever had.
• What I loved even more about the hotel was how well they had it together with their wake up calls. You would think this would be a fairly easy concept to grab, it being a major hotel chain and all. But they must do it differently here in Federal Way. Cuz two out of the three times I asked for a wake up call, I didn't get one. And then randomly, at 3 am on Sun morning (when I hadn't asked for a call), I got one.
• Favorite quote from the instructor (aside from the morphine and WalMart comments): "You have to do it quick, but you have to do it accurate." Right before she started discussing her pet peeves with respect to grammar in our writing samples. Yup. Actually, there were a lot of grammar lectures this week -- again, much like high school. I'm thinking it was because they couldn't think of any constructive legal comments, so decided to focus on something that was more at their level.
• Favorite non-existent word that she liked to use over and over again: irregardless (Once she even said "regardless" and then corrected herself to say "irregardless").
• Everyone had to have one-on-one mentoring sessions this week to discuss our writing (because you know, we didn't really learn that in law school). Fortunately, I had this instructor from the south who was usually pretty quick. But her only comments to me usually involved some random comment I had mistakenly stuck somewhere cuz I didn't bother to check my stuff for typos. I was talking about this after with my co-worker, and we decided that I had totally missed a priceless opportunity. I should have said, "But that's how they taught me to do it at Stanford. Y'all must do it different in Mississippi." Doh!!
• Favorite lunch spot in Auburn: maybe the mall food court??
• My poor co-worker got food poisoning one day and couldn't come to class. And stated beyond a doubt that there are some things worse than coming to class, and apparently throwing up and having the runs fall in that category. And the worst part is that it happened after she had a salad from a natural food grocery store - Federal Way's version of Whole Foods, basically.
• So, as predicted, the 2nd week was even better than the first. In that we had to do these stupid practice cases that actually took up a ton of time, so I didn't get to do that much internet surfing. And we learned a lot of grammer.

So anyway, today's the last day of class (YAY)!!! Yesterday, around 9:06 am, our uptight instructor (who loves the sound of her voice so much that I was pretty sure we'd be here until the last possible minute cuz she'd hate to give up her pedestal time) announced that we'd actually be able to leave a bit early today. A whole hour early, even! Lucky us. But whatever, I'll take it. So guess what I was doing by 9:10 am yesterday? Stepping out in the hallway to change my flight. I know! I can't believe I waited that long either, but I had to email G first and tell him the good news. I was initially scheduled to leave at 8pm tonight, but with the additional hour, I can barely make the 5pm flight. I had to pay a small amount to make the switch, and the guy at the Alaska counter suggested that I could just fly standby instead. But the thought of missing that flight drove me into such despair that any amount of $$ would have been so worth every penny. It was only about $20, and anyway, I'm going to make work pay it, so I would have loved the chance to stick it to them more. But oh well.

harry + sally

So lately, I've been thinking a lot about relationships. In a jumbled kind of way, and for a variety of random reasons. For one thing, I was thinking about how cool it would be if G and I were one of those totally cute couples that people couldn't help but adore. Not the sickeningly sweet kind that engages in PDA all the time. But you know, the cool ones that people strive to be. Like Booth and Bones in that show "Bones" -- have you seen it? That's actually what had me thinking about it. They're this forensic anthropologist/FBI agent duo that solves crime. Awesome show! And the main characters aren't officially a couple but they're so cute. And honestly, I'm not one of those people that wanted Rachel + Ross to get together on Friends, or any one else on TV for that matter. But these guys are pretty bad ass. So, I've been trying to think of ways that G + I can be more like them. Any suggestions would be very helpful.

I think if he had to (you know, like if he were being tortured to name SOMETHING), G would describe our current relationship as something similar to that couple on Medium. She's the psycho; he's the rational and calm one. Sure, I don't see dead people or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's how he views our relationship most of the time. So clearly, we have a long way to go. Though I guess its not about how he sees our relationship. Really, it's about everyone else.

OK, I know what you're thinking - that man, she really must have a ton of time on her hands at that stupid training. And it's true, I definitely do.

But actually, I’ve been thinking about a lot of relationship-related stuff for a while. Lately, I’ve been feeling like it’s about time for some changes in my life. There’s a friend that I’ve been mad at and don’t really want to deal with anymore. And of course, I can’t say it because damn, it’s SO much harder to break it off with a friend than a boyfriend. Not that I was ever good at that either. I usually took the more passive, ignore-him-long-enough-and-eventually-he’ll-get-the-picture, approach. Also, my dog seems to love G way more than she does me, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to fix that. Terrible, right? I rescued that ungrateful b-atch when she was a tiny little puppy! Totally saved her from a brutal existence in a plush San Diego Humane Society where she had her own TV (but I mean, come on, we know it’s about more than material possessions!). AND, since coming back from India, I’ve wanted to be closer to my family. And oddly, it’s so much easier to imagine being closer to my family who lives across the continent than it is, say, my parents who live along the same coast.

My brother (who I’ve seen quite a bit of lately cuz I’m STILL stuck here in Auburn until the end of the week, but with more limited internet surfing/email time this week, ARGH!) made an interesting comment lately about how he finds family situations awkward. And that it probably stems back to our own complicated relationship with our parents. G’s commented on this before too, that when we go home to see our folks, my brothers and I waste no time running off to some other part of the house. It used to be our old bedrooms. But now, my parents have moved into this huge house that offers more opportunities for getting the heck away. G thinks it’s bizarre, but I don’t know. It’s kind of ingrained in us to get far away as quickly as possible.

The thing is, it’s so hard for me to forgive things. And I guess that’s where all my relationship problems come from (well, except the Mia thing, that’s just wrong). I hold on to every little slight, every wrong – imagined or real. So of course I can see myself easily building closer relationships with family that I barely see. They haven’t done anything to me. But my parents, my friends, I don’t know. That’s so hard. How do people do it? And it’s not just me, I hear about stuff all the time from other people too who are holding onto things from childhood, whether they realize they’re doing it or not.

And I guess that’s what all this has been about. I mean, sure, I’m bored, so I’ve started likening our lives to TV characters. But I guess I’m also curious. Cuz when G and I fight, that’s usually what it’s about too, me bringing something up that happened a long time ago. And honestly, there’s no way we can get close to having a solid TV-like relationship (where we look super cute and everyone looks at us jealously) until I learn to let things slide a bit more. So how does everyone else do it?

India pics

So it occurred to me the other day that the only pictures I left you with of my cousin's wedding revolved around eating. Of course, that was a highlight, but some other stuff happened too. Plus, I realized that I can kill lots of time in my training class by captioning a lot of pictures, so I wanted to close out the trip with a few last photos.


A few days before the wedding, my mom, aunt and I got henna. This is a sample of the artist's amazing work on my mom's hands.


My cousin Vinod, the carefree bachelor, just before the wedding.


G and I on the van out to the wedding. Notice the slight sheen on our faces? Its cuz we were dripping sweat. Probably the worst day of the trip -- I thought the whole family was riding the van, and didn't want to be the odd ones out flying or taking the train. Turns out a lot of the smart people opted out of the group van and took the train. So now I know better, we should have flown. Its a 50 minute flight. So I don't know what possessed me to think the van would be more fun. For one, it was HOT. There was no A/C. Worse, we must have stopped 4 times. First, we stopped about 20 minutes after we stopped. Apparently the driver liked to smash a coconut for good luck at some temple. Yup, you heard me. Then, about half hour later, the driver wanted to stop to eat. OK, I'm sorry, we hired the van. Since when does some hired driver decide that he gets to stop whenever he wants to? And why wasn't anyone else pissed about this? Instead, my lovely family decided that it was a good time for us all to eat. Now, mind you, just before we left the house, we ate and had coffee (S. Indians LOVE coffee, a fact that drove G nuts since he doesn't drink coffee -- he got a lot of "so what do you want instead? Do you want BLACK coffee? Cuz you know, all white people drink their cofee black. Do you want tea?") Anyway, by the time we finished our meal (picnic style, food we'd brought, but ate sitting in the outdoor seating for a restaurant-- I'm sure the restaurant folks loved that), we were probably only a fraction of the way towards our destination but had been "on the road" for a good couple of hours. About a half hour after we set off again, G said he noticed we had pulled off the freeway and were heading somewhere other than Chennai, our destination. And suddenly we were sitting in traffic. We started to wonder what was going on, and then I found out -- now it was time for a coffee break. Ugh. So, to make a long story short, the total distance was about 220 miles. Amount of time this took: over 8 hours!!

The groom on the morning of the wedding, being greeted by his future in-laws.



My grandfather, still kicking it in his mid-80s, arriving for the wedding.


Vaibu, my cousin's daughter (not the cousin getting married), so practically my niece, and the new love of my life. How cute is she? She was super smart and chatty too. Probably had better conversations with her than some of the other wedding guests. I tell people how chatty she was, and I get a lot of "must run in the family" jokes. So maybe I shouldn't tell you this. But this is how adorable this little girl was. At one point, we got into a little "contest" about who was the bigger talker. We took a poll, and of course, everyone voted for her. Cuz of her age, I'm sure!!! I was feeling all competitve, but she is only 4, so maybe I should just give it up?

G, my bro, and I with the groom.

Some other cute guests, my only girl cousins on my mom's side --Dharini and Lakshmi Priya. The older one was reading A Tale of Two Cities in her downtime -- shall we say NERDY? So, of course, I felt an instant bond. :)

There's a point during the ceremony where the bride and groom just sit on a swing. Super exciting for everyone involved. :)

The official "tying of the knot." The part that's "tied" during the cermony is actually a piece of string. That part comes off in a few days, but the gold necklace stays on for life. I have one too -- it's loud, garish, and blingy. Just the kind of jewelry you can totally see me sporting on a daily basis right? In our case, G got one too, and he pulls it out whenever he feels like looking like a gangsta.


The happy bride and groom, just after the wedding.

My cousin, prepping for the near future? :)


. . . and here's the perfect opportunity, right here, with the "first night" bed. :) I think this used to be quite a bit more drama than it is now, with family members checking the sheets (you know, to make sure it's the bride's first time -- did I need to spell it out?). There was still a lot more attention to the whole thing that I would have liked, with my poor cousin having to endure all kinds of teasing, various family members getting together to decorate, and of course the happy couple having to wait for the most auspicious moment before entering the wedding suite. And apparently there's a whole progression involved. The groom has to wear a new outfit going in, an old outfit coming out in the morning (perhaps signifying his recent soiling? Though I think its only a requirement that the bride not be previously "soiled"). There's warm milk in the room that the bride is supposed to offer to the groom (cuz you know, nothing says "come get me" better than warm milk).

Throughout the whole thing, G and I kept remembering my parents' awkward attempts at creating this moment by offering us their bed for the momentous occasion. I think most of you have heard this story, no? Cuz you know, nothing says "come get me" better than your parents' bed. I guess it may have had something to with the fact that my parents had recently moved into a giant mansion but had no furniture in most of the rooms. Still, G + I opted to go out and buy an inflatable mattress from Bed, Bath, & Beyond and sleep downstairs and then return the mattress before we left town. Later, my brother told us that my parents had even changed the sheets for the ocassion. Well, if I had only known that sooner . . .


The day after the wedding, the bride and groom engage in a series of games that are pretty silly but entertaining. I guess it evolved from the olden days when the bride and groom were both kids, and they needed to do something during the wedding to entertain them (it being their day and all). So the games are just that, geared for 10-12 year olds. But my cousin and his wife were great sports and joked around during the whole thing, so it was a lot of fun for all.


The bride and groom entering their new home for the first time as a married couple. Again, as with most Indian "firsts", lots of blessings to be performed in order to start them off right. At the most auspicious moment, of course, which happened to be some random hour in the middle of the wedding ceremony.