Nov. 7, 2009

You guys all remember my crazy night out in the city a while back, right? The one that involved lots of alcohol and G recovering for the rest of the weekend? So now imagine that weekend with me being completely sober while everyone else around me was piss-ass drunk/hung over. Cuz that’s actually exactly how it was. It wasn’t that I was the most sober one in the group because I somehow managed to drink only to the point of fuzziness instead of to the point where I was falling to the floor while trying to untie my shoe laces. NO – I was sober cuz I didn’t have more than a couple of sips of alcohol THE ENTIRE NIGHT. That’s how miserable that night was. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It was a lot of fun, but I’m usually not the one taking care of drunk people. Back in my 20s and early 30s, I was more often the one that had to be dragged home at the end of the night before I puked all over the place.

I realized that night how far I’ve actually come from those days. Not that I was a total lush (I wasn't, I swear) or anything, but when I went out, I liked to drink. What’s the point of going out otherwise? But that night, I was stone cold sober because guess what? Just that morning, G and I had found out that I was pregnant. We'd suspected I might be for a few days but then decided we should find out before I decided to get all plastered (cuz, you know, just in case I couldn't get all plastered). And not wanting to tell anyone yet, G and I decided we’d subtly hand him all my drinks. So sitting next to each other at dinner, I’d take sips out of my sangria glass. When he was almost done with his, I’d pick his up and he’d grab mine. Fortunately for us, our friends got quickly and majorly drunk that night so it was pretty easy to pull off. But to this day, G keeps reminding me that the only reason he got that wasted that night was because he was “drinking for two” and doing me a favor. Uh, huh, it was for me that he was grabbing plastic cups of scotch from some random Indian man on a party bus. Totally my fault! Never mind that I could have sipped one drink through most of dinner without anyone being the wiser cuz no one was really paying attention to who was refilling their glasses when.

BUT I will say this, my friends are not only lushes but apparently they’re masters of peer pressure too. Thanks guys. What are we in, high school? Once we were at the club, avoiding the drinks became so much harder. First, the tequila shots came out. And it’s apparently much harder to fake drink a shot than it is a glass of wine. I somehow managed to pour my glass into G’s, so that he had this monster shot. When people looked over at my empty glass, I just pretended to have jump the gun and take my shot earlier than everyone else. And no one seemed to think that it was weird that his shot was twice as big as theirs. And actually, when G struggled to take down the whole thing in one gulp, everyone gave him shit for being a wuss, and wow, look at his wife, she finished his shot before he did. Was he getting old or what? Etc. etc. I couldn’t help it, I jumped in on the trash talking until I got the sense that he was about to lose it right there and tell everyone the truth. Thankfully there was only shot (though it turned out I hadn't managed to pour out the entire thing into G's shot glass, and there was a lot of egging on for me to finish the damn thing). But then I had to deal with everyone trying to push random drinks on me. I finally had to grab some sprite and pretend I was drinking a vodka tonic. Which wasn’t easy with the birthday boy’s friend pouring the drinks either. Man I had no idea that saying no to drugs would be so hard.

So now do you see why I was so ready to go home by midnight that night???? OK, so then imagine me sitting in the hotel room the next morning waiting for G to stop whipping, and flipping through random channels on the hotel room tv. And the only thing worth watching being this random show on pbs about animals giving birth and their natural parenting instincts (or lack thereof in some cases). I’m so serious, dude, I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. Did you know, for example, that new elephant seal mothers on the coast of South Africa sometimes get so hot laying in the sun with their newborns that they rush off to the water before the seal cubs are old enough to follow them? Come back later and get all confused when they find their dead babies all wilted in the heat. That and a few graphic birth scenes were exactly what every newly pregnant, completely-NOT-HUNGOVER, chick needs.

So omg, totally the best weekend ever.

Highlights of the first year - Part II

So I’m guessing some of you may have been wondering what the whole “Part I” thing was about yesterday. Thinking, “OMG, is she not over this whole anniversary thing yet. What has it been, the subject of like the only 3 posts she’s posted the last couple of weeks?!?” And I know, the thought of an anniversary post sounded better in my head than it did on paper. I hadn’t really commented on the two weddings back when they happened so had this idea to write about them now a year later. But it occurred to me after I posted that it wasn’t one of my more exciting posts. Either you were already at one or both weddings or you weren’t. And regardless of which it was, reading about it after the fact can’t be that exciting. I guess it just goes to show that if I’m not whining or complaining about something, I just can’t seem to churn out fascinating reading. Plus, I had a hard time picking pictures too. I think pretty much everyone of the regular readers that I know about is on Facebook, so you’ve already seen the best of the pictures. To go through the weddings and try to find something new was kind of excruciating (especially since there are like a million from each wedding).

And you’re probably thinking, “Dammit, that was just the FIRST anniversary. What can we expect 5-10 years from now, assuming I’m still around trying to stomach this horseshit then? A month of anniversary-related posts about that one great party she threw way back when???” Not to worry, I’m just about done, I swear. And honestly, this isn’t an anniversary post so much as a reflection on the last year. Cuz before I got married, I worried that G and I had known each other so long that the actual wedding would make little difference to our lives (not to be crass or anything, but really, how much better can the milk be just cuz you happen to own the cow?). A year later, I’ve realized that we had oodles of territory left to cover.

In the last year, we’ve both dealt with elderly grandparents as well as an elderly dog. The days when Bandit doesn’t get up in the middle of the night now are days that we can count with one hand. Just the other day, G mentioned that he had a full night’s sleep for a change and had forgotten what that felt like. And just last week she gave us a scare when she collapsed while we were out walking (she’s fine now though!!!). We’ve separated dog fights; we’ve covered hundreds of miles visiting vets across the bay. Mia got hip surgery. I guess in all fairness, the doggies started having issues even while we were still engaged, but I don’t care, I’m lumping them into the general category of changes in the last year. We combined checking accounts, and I realized how nice it was to have someone else deal with finances for a change. We mght even be filing a joint return this year. Also in the last year, I changed jobs and started commuting.

BUT the biggest change (and really the whole point of this whole post) of all this year is the creation of this little Heirloom Tomato:

I have a strong feeling that G won't be getting more full nights' of sleep any time soon, what do you think? If anything, he's probably way more prepared for waking up in the middle of the night than I am.

I think more than half already know about the new crop that we'll be raising this summer. And have known for so long that you’ve probably forgotten that I haven’t actually announced it yet. So for you guys, sorry for the drama. :) But for the rest of you, I’ll let you digest before telling you more.

One year - Part I

A year and a week ago, G and I got married for the second time in Woodside, CA. So now, we've been married a full year no matter how you look at it. The 2nd one-year anniversary passed almost as quietly as the first. But I've been remembering the two weddings a lot the last couple of weeks. All in all, we were so lucky. We had 2 awesome weddings.

The Indian wedding surprised me a lot. I wasn't sure what to expect, and it wasn't like my parents did a whole lot to keep us involved in the planning. I didn't know many of the guests who attended, or hadn't meant them in years because they were old friends of my folks that I remember from childhood. G hardly knew anyone at all, other than his family and mine. The day flew by in a flurry, and I went through one beautiful sari after the next. My friend V was around to help me get dressed and made up (and around the days before for all the prep). And the entire experience was perfect. The food was delicious. G and I had a lot of fun messing around during various parts of the ceremony. G impressed all my parents' friends with his ability to repeat after the priest in Sanskrit and generally play the part of an Indian dude with white skin. There's a part of the wedding where the groom attempts to leave the proceedings behind in order to follow a more religious life. He gets an umbrella (for the sun), some flip flops, and a copy of the Ramayana, an epic Hindu saga. And off he goes. And there was a moment when my brother C was holding the umbrella over him and just started cracking up cuz G just looked hilarious.

There's another portion of the ceremony where the bride and groom exchange a big garland of flowers three times. And I started taking off and backing away so he couldn't get mine on me. Or during the "games" period after the actual wedding itself when my mom told G that he should let me win, but of course he's too competitive for that.

The winery wedding was as far different from the Indian wedding as you could expect. Except that it too was kind of hilarious. It started late (before you start giving me any snide comments, note that it had nothing to do with us but the shuttle guy we hired to bring people up to the wedding). People were clearly drinking while they waited. It's the only way to explain why everyone was hooting and hollering during the ceremony.

We wrote our vows ourselves, and I must say that mine were pretty hilarious. Even G says that he couldn't tell if I was trying to put on a stand up comedy act or recite my vows. We had my brother recite a poem called "Falling in Love is Like Owning a Dog." He kept telling me that it was too long of a selection and kind of sappy. And made sure that the audience knew that he hadn't been the one to select it. But he did such an awesome job that he had everyone in stitches. A few weeks ago, I was having lunch with some friends, and they were telling me again how much fun they had at the wedding. That it was probably the most fun wedding they had ever been to. Actually they were telling a co-worker of theirs who of course hadn't been there and seemed like she might be tired of hearing about it already. :) But it made me proud to know that we can throw on a good party.

And I guess if I had to describe the last year, the weddings (as different as they were) say a lot about us generally. We're total dorks. So I won't lie and say that our life together this past year has always been peachy and free of drama. I'm way too short-tempered for that. But we do tend to have fun a lot, so I'm looking forward to lots more years of dorkiness to come. :)

So here a few pics of the two weddings. I'm guessing you won't have any problems trying to figure out which is from what wedding. :)

Excuse me, it's PsychOTIC, ok?

Last week, we had a somewhat informal meeting in our break room at work. X, our very own Psycho walked in a few minutes late and the senior attorney who’d called the meeting briefly said hello before continuing with whatever he was saying. Only to be cut off by her saying that she doesn’t go by the name “Psychotic.” It’s just Psycho. Seriously, it was like calling Pam by her full name of Pamela or a guy who typically goes by Fred Frederick instead. But apparently she doesn’t go by her full name, just the shortened form. Whatever. The attorney apologized and the meeting continued. She sat in the corner and kept her sunglasses on. Did I mention that this meeting was in our break room which is INSIDE the building?

About 5 minutes later, Psycho suddenly stood up and gathered up all of her personal belongings loudly. The meeting continued. She cut off whoever was talking and announced loudly that she can’t stay in that room any longer. That the light in the break room hurts her eyes and that’s a fact that’s generally known around the office. It’s too bad that we couldn’t hold the meeting somewhere else where she could actually participate. The senior attorney, without missing a beat, said that he was sorry to hear that. And that a similar meeting would be scheduled later in the week for judges and perhaps she could try to attend that one instead.

Later, after we had all walked back to our desks, he showed me the little post-it that Psycho had left on his computer. “It is NOT ok to call me Psychotic.” The official reprimand . . . For all we know she’s filing her grievance right now with her union representative. Certainly she was yelling about something related to a violation of her rights to the director later on that morning. I tried to glean what she was saying but couldn’t. Damn.

The yelling loudly to management isn’t a first either. A couple of weeks before the “lighting” incident, my friend C messaged me on our office chat to come by her office immediately, making sure to pause for an extra long time near our supervisor’s office on my way over. I did and heard Psycho going off in his office. And I mean OFF. I pretended to be looking for something in the filing cabinets kind of outside his office in order to hear what was going on. I wasn’t the only one. And heard bits and snippets of “Well, I told you weeks ago that I might be coming in late a lot because I have this situation. That the DA is involved, and I’m trying to resolve it.” And, “are you telling me that I can’t use my leave in whatever way I want?” The scene must have lasted for a good ten minutes before she stormed out of his office.

This week she’s been sporting a splint on her arm because she tripped over her dog’s leash while trail running. From what I understand, the doctors were pretty incompetent.

Over the last month or so, probably since around the time of my fun one-on-one conversation with Psycho, there have been a lot of closed doors and, I think, some serious conversations about how to best handle the situation. But OMG, what would we do for entertainment? The hours of office chat that have been devoted to this alone could equal a novel. What would we do with that time instead?

Jan. 23

One year ago on Jan. 23, Gregg and I got married for the first time. We had our Indian ceremony in Oregon, and I had a blog post all planned out for the ocassion, complete with some pics from the wedding and a few random highlights from a year of "wedded bliss." I guess it's a good thing that G and I got married twice.

Because this year, with life being the twisted thing that it is, Jan. 23 was really all about something else entirely. Early that morning, my mom called me to tell me that my paternal grandfather had passed away just hours earlier. It shouldn't have been a shock, but it was. He'd been deteriorating for weeks, but somehow seemed to be hanging in there and even getting better. And anyway, he was my grandfather, and I figured he was invincible. There's lots I could tell you about these last couple of weeks. Life certainly hasn't been uneventful. Me deciding to go to India. Me realizing that I probably shouldn't go to India. My dad rushing to get there. My mom discvoering the intricacies of the internet. So many things that would make for a more exciting/tragic/comic blog entry. But honestly I'd rather just tell you about my grandfather. My grandfather, who was one of my favorite relatives, and the first close relative that I've really lost.

In front of my grandparents' house in India, there is a little bench, and in the morning and evenings, that's where my grandfather would be. Watching everyone come and go. Waiting for friends to come by with the latest gossip or political arguments. I remember visiting when I was in college and going with him on his errands. We'd run to the bank or pharmacy or where ever he needed to go. And everywhere he went, he'd introduce me (you know, to the random bank tellers and street vendors), telling him how I was grand daughter, visiting from the states. And I went to Stanford. I'm sure they were all fascinated. I think it was on that trip that we took a pony cart home one evening because I'd never been on one, and he thought I'd get a kick out of it.

It might have been on that trip too that he got into a fight with some Australians at the bank. Like all Indians, he had no concept of standing in line, and cut in front of an Aussie couple. They took issue, and I had to hold my grandfather back a bit before it turned into an all out brawl. He kept telling them something in English, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was.
Sometimes, on those earlier trips, we'd go eat at a restaurant after doing whatever he needed to do, just because he liked having any excuse to eat out.

Though he had been getting frailer recently, he used to be a big man with a loud booming voice. He always had an opinion and loved to be right. I'd argue back every chance I got, and it seemed at times that nothing could make him prouder than have one of his granddaughters stand up to him. He valued intelligence and education, and was always interested in our jobs or daily lives. I remember I visited once right after I had come back from South America. I developed my trip pictures while in India. Some were from South America, some were of friends from home that I took to finish out the roll (back in the days of non-digital photography), My grandfather was fascinated by every single one. I think some might have involved some drunken friends but hopefully it wasn't that obvious.

But my favorite memories are the little things that I'll never quite remember exactly. The mornings sitting around with him while he sat in grungy old easy chair, telling me stories about something or other. I liked hearing of his travels or younger days, and he was always happy to oblige. It bugs me now that I can't really remember any of the details. Makes me wish I had taken a tape recorder and record every single conversation we'd ever had.

Always a character, and definitely never boring, there are lots of reasons why he was one of my favorite relative. He'll be so missed.

Speaking of crazy . ..

I'm back!! And I have to say, life hasn't been boring lately.

Work's been as annoying as always, but it does have its moments. Not related to the actual work of course. That's as frustrating as it always has been. But I've been realizing lately that as much as certain people bug me, I'd be sad if they left. The resulting drama is the only thing I have to live for during the week. The constant stories of U, who thinks its perfectly normal to be 30 and still supported by her parents are a source of constant fascination. Apparently it runs in the family. Her older sister (who is pregnant and whose life I know SO much about) recently got laid off, which of course sucks. U's response: apparently she told her sister to not worry about the day-to-day expenses of child rearing because of course her parents would help with all that. You know, those pesky things like diapers and food and clothing, which I imagine to be not a small amount? Not a problem when there are grandparents in the picture who will take care of it all. I'm not saying its wrong to ask for help if necessary. But to hear this girl talk, there'll never be a point when she plays adult and strikes out on her own. When unemployed, her parents have paid her rent (i.e. NOT just letting her move in with them which is a different thing entirely. But actually paying the rent on her SF apartment!).

OR there was that time when she was telling me she wanted to make baby food for her sister and was wondering how long it would stay good for. This must have been back in November. I thought maybe her sister had a baby already, but no, she's expecting in April. I had to point out that babies don't actually eat food for a good long while so wasn't it a bit early? I mean, I'm no expert or anything, but it seemed a bit early.

OR there was another time when she tried to explain to me how her car insurance was almost $4k a year because she was involved in one car accident that wasn't her fault and had gotten a speeding ticket way back when when all she was trying to do was get out of a scary LA neighborhood where she had been tutoring these poor little children who desperately needed a good role model (sounds like the cop didn't buy it anymore than I did). She sits right near me, so I can't tell you how often I find myself rolling my eyes when I talk to her.

THEN there's X, our very own resident psycho. Months ago, she approached my friend C and began to tell her about this stalker problem she's been having. Needless to say, C was a bit surprised to be approached and confided in at all since her longest interaction with Psycho occurred when X told her not to say "hey" to her because it was one of the lowest forms of greetings there is. Or during a horrible lunch early on when C asked about Psycho's plans for Thanksgiving only to be told to not pry into her personal life. Um, ok. This was before I started, so I didn't get to see it for myself.

Anyway, so believe me, it was a bit of a shock to be confided in, but since she was cornered in her office, C had no choice but to listen in morbid fascination. She tried to relay the conversation to me immediately after and couldn't even begin. But primarily it had to do with how Psycho had a stalker. She's been forced to move 3 times now because of her. But he always seems to find her because he knows that she likes to bike and looks for aparment buildings that are close to bike trails. So it sounds like he scopes out every single apartment building up and down the peninsula until he finds the one she's hiding out it in. His general purpose in stalking her is to give her AIDS. And he works towards this goal by conspiring with her neighbors. She hears them talking about her through her walls and knows when he's found her.

C, after days of wondering what to do with this info (besides telling me about it), decided to talk to our director. She didn't want to, but the several people she consulted thought it would be irresponsible not to. Even G when I told him all about at home. And who told me I couldn't blog about it. So C had a talk with our director, who it turned out was curious about the specifics but not at all surprised. Clearly he had already been approached by some one in the office.

THEN, a few weeks later, I got stuck at work. Remember my Caltrain fiasco where I ended up having to wait for the train for more than an hour and a half in the evening? Well, apparently Psycho and I were one of the few people still hanging around that day because she came by to chat. And told me all about her stalker herself. I gotta say, if I hadn't heard some of it already, I would have been creeped out. As it was, the only thing that kept me seated was the possibility for a good story. She told me about the AIDS. About how he conspires with her neighbors against her, and wins them over by having sex with them. And gives them such amazing O's that they don't care if he has AIDS. He has a daughter who wants Psycho to be her new mommy. (It's a family stalker situation, I guess). And it was getting to be frustrating because the night before she couldn't even leave her apartment to take her dog out because he was outside in the bushes waiting for her. I wanted to ask about her poor dog (who apparently had been sitting around in the apartment all day and hadn't been out to pee or anything). BUT, there was good news. She's sure that the police are taking her seriously now because they've been following her in order to build their case against him (following HER, I know, makes a lot of sense, right? But seriously, you wouldn't have asked any questions either if you'd been in my shoes). Actually she went for a walk that afternoon and heard a lot of sirens around so she figured it must have been the cops tailing her, although in San Jose she's not sure. Its with the San Mateo police that she's filed her case. She's been in touch with the DA's office there too. Dude, there was a lot more, I'm pretty sure but I couldn't remember it all if my life depended on it. Let's just say it was more in the same vein. And maybe for a second, it seemed plausible. I mean, sure, having a stalker isn't entirely unheard of. But the more she talked about it, the more clear it became that at least 75% of it all is in her head. I picture this loony lady harassing the DA's office with made up stories that they have no idea what to do with. Cops that have stopped responding to her calls. I don't know or maybe that's all in her head too, who knows.

This must have gone on for almost a half hour and would have gone on indefinitely if my phone hadn't rang. I said I had to answer it and she left. It was our director wanting to see if I needed any help extricating myself from the conversation. Oh yah, did I mention his office is right outside mine, so he must have heard at least part of all this?

Since then, although I don't have any more updates on where its at with the staker now, Psycho's been a pretty good source of entertainment. So more next time . . .

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.