Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Bad Sign, Better Judgment
I almost posted something that had the company found it probably would have gotten me fired. After venting, reviewing the post, correcting the typos, and smoothing out the language, I erased it. I'm worried about the company I work for, though, and the more open former colleagues become with their reasons for leaving, the more I think I should update my resume.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Update to the Travel Update
A few minor changes:
October 13-17: Chicago
October 20: New Orleans
October 24-31: London
November 3-6: LA
November 11-12: NYC
November 12-14: DC
November 17-18: NYC
November 24-28: Europe, maybe
December 2-3: NYC
December 4-6: LA
December 9-10: Phoenix
And in case you're wondering why the flurry of blog entries -- I can't access the VPN or the company's webmail. I think that the IT group accidentally changed my password.
October 13-17: Chicago
October 20: New Orleans
October 24-31: London
November 3-6: LA
November 11-12: NYC
November 12-14: DC
November 17-18: NYC
November 24-28: Europe, maybe
December 2-3: NYC
December 4-6: LA
December 9-10: Phoenix
And in case you're wondering why the flurry of blog entries -- I can't access the VPN or the company's webmail. I think that the IT group accidentally changed my password.
The Uptown Manhattan
While I was writing my ode to my Nespresso machine, it occurred to me that I should also talk about my lifechanging cocktail experience in San Francisco a couple of weeks ago.
I'm in San Francisco once or twice a year, and I almost always stay at the Westin St. Francis on Union Square. It's a Starwood property, and it's conveniently located, and did I mention it's a Starwood property? The bar in the hotel was never anything to get too excited about -- just a place to meet before you left the hotel to get drinks.
Well, recently, the WSF redid their lobby bar and rechristened it as the Clock Bar. It's really mod, and the waitresses are all glamazons. The Clock Bar offers their twist on a lot of classic cocktails as well as some really interesting new ones, and they have amazing truffle popcorn on the appetizer menu, which you should totally get if you're there -- well worth the $10 (it seems like a lot, but it will take everything you have not to lick the bowl when you're done eating the popcorn), but the thing that swept me off my feet was the Uptown Manhattan.
I stupidly ordered a Dark and Stormy first, forgetting that most bars don't stock a spicy enough ginger beer to make that worthwhile. It was ok, but not anything special, so I took another look at the menu and saw the Uptown Manhattan: Maker's Mark bourbon, Amaro Nonino (a delicious, Italian, herbal liqueur), orange bitters, and cherry brandy. I ordered it, and it was probably one of the best decisions of the year.
I took a sip and was transported to a magical land where it was just me and my Uptown Manhattan. You know how in the movies, there'll be that moment when the main couple see each other and hear birds sing and can't see anything but each other? Sadly, I had that moment in San Francisco with a cocktail. I was torn between gulping it down as quickly as possible because it was so delicious and only drinking a tiny drop at a time because I didn't want it to go away. I ordered two that evening, and two more on each of the following evenings. I would have loved to have drunk 3, but I was afraid it was going to involve some serious pain that would damage our perfect relationship.
I asked for the recipe, and the glamazon expressed a little bit of doubt that they'd share, but sure enough, she came back with the recipe written out for me on a slip of cash register paper. I laminated it at Kinko's. For reals. I'm crap at making cocktails (opening a bottle of wine is easier), but come mid-December, when the weather finally goes below 60 degrees in Houston, and I'm finally off the road, I'm going to make a pilgrimage to the liquor store and find all the ingredients and make myself some Uptown Manhattans. And if I'm successful, you should probably start a fund for me to go to the Betty Ford Clinic.
I'm in San Francisco once or twice a year, and I almost always stay at the Westin St. Francis on Union Square. It's a Starwood property, and it's conveniently located, and did I mention it's a Starwood property? The bar in the hotel was never anything to get too excited about -- just a place to meet before you left the hotel to get drinks.
Well, recently, the WSF redid their lobby bar and rechristened it as the Clock Bar. It's really mod, and the waitresses are all glamazons. The Clock Bar offers their twist on a lot of classic cocktails as well as some really interesting new ones, and they have amazing truffle popcorn on the appetizer menu, which you should totally get if you're there -- well worth the $10 (it seems like a lot, but it will take everything you have not to lick the bowl when you're done eating the popcorn), but the thing that swept me off my feet was the Uptown Manhattan.
I stupidly ordered a Dark and Stormy first, forgetting that most bars don't stock a spicy enough ginger beer to make that worthwhile. It was ok, but not anything special, so I took another look at the menu and saw the Uptown Manhattan: Maker's Mark bourbon, Amaro Nonino (a delicious, Italian, herbal liqueur), orange bitters, and cherry brandy. I ordered it, and it was probably one of the best decisions of the year.
I took a sip and was transported to a magical land where it was just me and my Uptown Manhattan. You know how in the movies, there'll be that moment when the main couple see each other and hear birds sing and can't see anything but each other? Sadly, I had that moment in San Francisco with a cocktail. I was torn between gulping it down as quickly as possible because it was so delicious and only drinking a tiny drop at a time because I didn't want it to go away. I ordered two that evening, and two more on each of the following evenings. I would have loved to have drunk 3, but I was afraid it was going to involve some serious pain that would damage our perfect relationship.
I asked for the recipe, and the glamazon expressed a little bit of doubt that they'd share, but sure enough, she came back with the recipe written out for me on a slip of cash register paper. I laminated it at Kinko's. For reals. I'm crap at making cocktails (opening a bottle of wine is easier), but come mid-December, when the weather finally goes below 60 degrees in Houston, and I'm finally off the road, I'm going to make a pilgrimage to the liquor store and find all the ingredients and make myself some Uptown Manhattans. And if I'm successful, you should probably start a fund for me to go to the Betty Ford Clinic.
My Nespresso Machine
This deserves an entry all by itself, because knowing the background will help you understand why if there were a fire, I'd probably grab the Nespresso machine first.
One of the primary reasons I love going to Australia is to drink the coffee. Shana asked me why I'm so obsessed with the coffee, and I had a hard time describing it to her, but I think I've finally figured it out. Remember the first time you smelled coffee, and nothing else that you'd smelled previously compared to how rich and deep the aroma was? And no experience that you'd had previously compared to the disappointment of drinking it? Coffee is really weird in that it doesn't really taste like it smells. Or at least none of the coffee I've ever drunk does.
Until I went to Australia for work. I don't know what they do to it down there, but the airport coffee in Sydney is amazing, and everything I had afterward was even better, but especially in Melbourne. Coffee in Australia tastes exactly like it smells. It's a heavenly experience every single time. All that wasted anticipation from the first time you had a cup of crappy, American, drip coffee gets satisfied years later in a small paper cup.
If you're a coffee fan, you can't miss visiting Melbourne. It's like they add crack and heroin to the coffee. I'm kind of sensitive to caffeine, so I usually limit myself to 2 cups a day, maybe 3 if I'm really sleep-deprived, but when I'm in Australia, particularly Melbourne, I'm drinking 4-5 cups a day -- I get it anytime it's available or there's a coffee shop in my path.
It's not drip coffee. All of it is espresso and espresso-based. The easiest thing to do is to order yourself a cappuccino in Melbourne and bask in the goodness. Or just drink it as fast as you can and order another two. Not that I've done that or anything.
My last visit in August was primarily to Melbourne -- HOORAY! Melbourne is great partially because the Baileys are there, but if they weren't there, I would still be excited because did you read what I wrote above? Amazing coffee. In any event, Melbournians are justifiably proud of their coffee, and we had a couple of day-long meetings at the Westin Melbourne for the Australian members. At the first one, the hotel served drip coffee, and the Melbournian members were understandably taken aback to the point that they said something to Melissa. Melissa said something to Cindi, who said something to the hotel, and magically, for our second meeting, the hotel put an espresso machine in our meeting room.
That kind of proximity to the espresso machine was HEAVEN. I had a cup at every break. (I switched to decaf after the first 3 cups because I didn't want to (a) speak too quickly or (b) have a heart attack.) I'm very open about my love for Australian coffee, and one of the members suggested that I buy the home version of the commercial Nespresso machine that was in the room.
I wrestled with that one. I wrestled like Jacob wrestled with the angel. And I ultimately came down on the side of "no" because I was concerned about the electricity situation (different voltages in the US and Australia) and how I was going to get the coffee capsules that the machine uses. I couldn't in good conscience ask Melissa, Dawn, and Diane to take turns sending me a shipment of my drug of choice every 3 months.
Then I went on vacation to Italy, where the coffee is also amazing. When I mentioned how much I liked the espresso to the villa manager, she suggested that I get a Nespresso machine. That was it. I didn't buy one in Italy, but when I got home, I got online and discovered that Nespresso makes machines for just about every country in the world, including the US.
It wasn't cheap, but it was worth every penny. I got the milk frother/steamer, too, and I have at least 2 cappuccinos every day when I'm home, and it's a thousand times better than the swill they serve at Starbucks. I just wish I'd known about Nespresso sooner!!! I'm at the part of the year where I travel every week, so I'm not getting as much quality time as I'd like with it. I'm always disappointed when I drink coffee outside my home now.
You might be openly mocking me right now, but ask Melissa and Cindi and Dawn about how delicious the coffee is that Nespresso makes. And if you ever come to Houston, I'll make you a cup, but be warned -- it will change your life and make it nearly impossible to drink any other coffee again without a little twinge of disappointment.
One of the primary reasons I love going to Australia is to drink the coffee. Shana asked me why I'm so obsessed with the coffee, and I had a hard time describing it to her, but I think I've finally figured it out. Remember the first time you smelled coffee, and nothing else that you'd smelled previously compared to how rich and deep the aroma was? And no experience that you'd had previously compared to the disappointment of drinking it? Coffee is really weird in that it doesn't really taste like it smells. Or at least none of the coffee I've ever drunk does.
Until I went to Australia for work. I don't know what they do to it down there, but the airport coffee in Sydney is amazing, and everything I had afterward was even better, but especially in Melbourne. Coffee in Australia tastes exactly like it smells. It's a heavenly experience every single time. All that wasted anticipation from the first time you had a cup of crappy, American, drip coffee gets satisfied years later in a small paper cup.
If you're a coffee fan, you can't miss visiting Melbourne. It's like they add crack and heroin to the coffee. I'm kind of sensitive to caffeine, so I usually limit myself to 2 cups a day, maybe 3 if I'm really sleep-deprived, but when I'm in Australia, particularly Melbourne, I'm drinking 4-5 cups a day -- I get it anytime it's available or there's a coffee shop in my path.
It's not drip coffee. All of it is espresso and espresso-based. The easiest thing to do is to order yourself a cappuccino in Melbourne and bask in the goodness. Or just drink it as fast as you can and order another two. Not that I've done that or anything.
My last visit in August was primarily to Melbourne -- HOORAY! Melbourne is great partially because the Baileys are there, but if they weren't there, I would still be excited because did you read what I wrote above? Amazing coffee. In any event, Melbournians are justifiably proud of their coffee, and we had a couple of day-long meetings at the Westin Melbourne for the Australian members. At the first one, the hotel served drip coffee, and the Melbournian members were understandably taken aback to the point that they said something to Melissa. Melissa said something to Cindi, who said something to the hotel, and magically, for our second meeting, the hotel put an espresso machine in our meeting room.
That kind of proximity to the espresso machine was HEAVEN. I had a cup at every break. (I switched to decaf after the first 3 cups because I didn't want to (a) speak too quickly or (b) have a heart attack.) I'm very open about my love for Australian coffee, and one of the members suggested that I buy the home version of the commercial Nespresso machine that was in the room.
I wrestled with that one. I wrestled like Jacob wrestled with the angel. And I ultimately came down on the side of "no" because I was concerned about the electricity situation (different voltages in the US and Australia) and how I was going to get the coffee capsules that the machine uses. I couldn't in good conscience ask Melissa, Dawn, and Diane to take turns sending me a shipment of my drug of choice every 3 months.
Then I went on vacation to Italy, where the coffee is also amazing. When I mentioned how much I liked the espresso to the villa manager, she suggested that I get a Nespresso machine. That was it. I didn't buy one in Italy, but when I got home, I got online and discovered that Nespresso makes machines for just about every country in the world, including the US.
It wasn't cheap, but it was worth every penny. I got the milk frother/steamer, too, and I have at least 2 cappuccinos every day when I'm home, and it's a thousand times better than the swill they serve at Starbucks. I just wish I'd known about Nespresso sooner!!! I'm at the part of the year where I travel every week, so I'm not getting as much quality time as I'd like with it. I'm always disappointed when I drink coffee outside my home now.
You might be openly mocking me right now, but ask Melissa and Cindi and Dawn about how delicious the coffee is that Nespresso makes. And if you ever come to Houston, I'll make you a cup, but be warned -- it will change your life and make it nearly impossible to drink any other coffee again without a little twinge of disappointment.
More Things That I Love
Foodlife
My Nespresso machine (beyond reason, really)
Eclipse gum (the royal blue flavor)
Free water at hotels
Flying small jets (you get to gatecheck your luggage)
Facebook (did I put this one already?)
The Uptown Manhattan at the Clock Bar at the Westin St. Francis
My Nespresso machine (beyond reason, really)
Eclipse gum (the royal blue flavor)
Free water at hotels
Flying small jets (you get to gatecheck your luggage)
Facebook (did I put this one already?)
The Uptown Manhattan at the Clock Bar at the Westin St. Francis
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Travel Update
Lots of changes! Here's the update:
October 9-12: DC
October 13-17: Chicago
October 24-31: London
November 3-6: LA
November 11-12: NYC
November 17-18: NYC
November 24-28: Europe, maybe
December 4-6: LA
December 9-10: NYC
Sigh.
October 9-12: DC
October 13-17: Chicago
October 24-31: London
November 3-6: LA
November 11-12: NYC
November 17-18: NYC
November 24-28: Europe, maybe
December 4-6: LA
December 9-10: NYC
Sigh.
Monday, September 29, 2008
One More Hurricane-Related Piece of Confusion
I forgot to add this to the post where I outed myself as a cold-hearted bit** (as if any of you were truly surprised):
When the authorities tell you that if you're staying that you should take a magic marker and write your social security number on your forearm so they can more quickly identify your body, that should be a MAJOR CLUE that you should get the hell out of Dodge. As if the National Weather Service using the term "certain death" was not scary enough.
When the authorities tell you that if you're staying that you should take a magic marker and write your social security number on your forearm so they can more quickly identify your body, that should be a MAJOR CLUE that you should get the hell out of Dodge. As if the National Weather Service using the term "certain death" was not scary enough.
A Letter
Dear Short-But-Broad Dude in the Middle Seat,
I completely understand that it's no fun to fly in the middle seat. I'm in the window and have comparatively more room from left to right, so I'm willing to concede the entire armrest that we share to you. But the second that your elbow touches my waist, all bets are off. I'm not a small woman, but I have small waist, and when you're touching it, it means that you have overstepped your boundaries by quite a lot. Either fork over $100 or stay in your space. And please, please, please, for the love of Mike, cut back on the garlic consumption.
Love you, mean it,
Catherine
I completely understand that it's no fun to fly in the middle seat. I'm in the window and have comparatively more room from left to right, so I'm willing to concede the entire armrest that we share to you. But the second that your elbow touches my waist, all bets are off. I'm not a small woman, but I have small waist, and when you're touching it, it means that you have overstepped your boundaries by quite a lot. Either fork over $100 or stay in your space. And please, please, please, for the love of Mike, cut back on the garlic consumption.
Love you, mean it,
Catherine
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Movies & TV Shows for Strong Women
Despite the fact that it's nearly 2009 and that we almost had a woman as a Presidential candidate, I think that there's a fair amount of crap in the media that's not good for us or our psyches, regardless of whether you're a man or a woman. So here's a partial list of movies and tv shows that I think are a nice counter to the crap out -- these all have heroines who are smart and independent and manage to rescue themselves:
Remington Steele (this is one of my favorite tv shows of all time -- this was such a nice palate cleanser in the 80s after the jigglefest of Charlie's Angels. Don't get me wrong -- I loved the Angels, and yes, they carried guns and managed to rescue themselves much of the time, but the major focus of Charlie's Angels was T&A.)
Enchanted (I had my doubts about this one, but I watched at my cousin's house with her and her 3-year-old daughter at my cousin's insistence. Not only does Giselle rescue herself, but she also rescues the man she loves. It was so much better than I was expecting!)
Ever After (I also had serious doubts about this one, but I'm starting to see Drew Barrymore as a reliable indicator that the heroine of the movie will be able to kick a**. Besides, I'm a sucker for movies that have heroines who like to read.)
Legally Blonde (Truthfully, Elle Woods grates on my nerves. But I like the message it sends to chicks about being true to who you are and living up to your own expectations rather than other people's. Reese Witherspoon also seems to be a reliable indicator of a strong chick movie.)
Penelope (I've written about this before. It's a great movie, and I think Reese Witherspoon produced it. See? Reliable indicator.)
Juno (Just a warning -- don't watch this one with the director's commentary on, because Jason Reitman is an a**hat. Regardless of what you think about teen pregnancy, the heroine is smart and independent and doesn't take crap from anyone, including the jacka** Jason Bateman character. I'm in favor of not taking crap from anyone.)
What have I missed?
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I Don't Understand This
I've been obsessively reading CNN.com and the Houston Chronicle's website for more information on what's going on in Houston. Given what I've read and the updates I've gotten from friends who are there, I'm seriously considering getting a wheeled duffel bag and buying some groceries here in NYC to take back home with me on Friday. People are standing for hours in line just for ice, water, and MREs. I know I have power again because the answering machine is working, but I don't know if the windows made it.
In any event, I've run across this particular line a few times in articles on CNN.com, and it confuses me: "Among [those who didn't evacuate Galveston] were Paul and Kathi Norton, who overslept as Ike closed in on their home."
HUH? OVERSLEPT? From what I saw on the Weather Channel, it seemed like people could have safely gotten out on Friday afternoon. So did Paul and Kathi Norton sleep until the evening? Maybe they took a nap that went on too long, but that doesn't make sense to me, either. Even if you assume that they were up all night boarding up the house and loading the car, doesn't it seem like with a hurricane coming, you just get in your car and evacuate BEFORE you take a nap? And even if you assume they were so tired, they just had to take a nap -- there's a HURRICANE coming, and it was ENORMOUS. How do you relax enough to fall asleep???
And here's some proof that I don't have a lot of the milk of human kindness running through my veins: after getting the mandatory evacuation notice, THOUSANDS of people stayed in Galveston. Now there is no running water, no clean drinking water, and no power. I'm reading quotes in articles from folks in Galveston that they're not being rescued quickly enough. When the National Weather Service says that you are risking "certain death" by riding out the storm, and when officials ask you, who have refused to evacuate, to write your social security number with permanent marker on your arm to aid with identification after the storm, I really, really, really don't think you now have room to complain that people aren't coming to save you fast enough. It's not like the National Guard and the fire department and the police department and all the other departments working on this are sitting around taking a bunch of coffee breaks, and you were told on numerous occasions by many people in authority with good information to get the hell out of town. I just don't have that much sympathy.
I understand that I'm really lucky that I have a job that allows me to be out of town nearly at will and that I have the means to fund staying away from home. I know that not everybody had the resources that I have. And I don't think that these folks have gotten what they deserve -- nobody deserves the devastation I'm seeing in photographs that they're experiencing live. I just wish people used the sense that God gave them. Especially in a city like Galveston, where there's historical evidence of the carnage that a huge hurricane can wreak everywhere you look.
In any event, I've run across this particular line a few times in articles on CNN.com, and it confuses me: "Among [those who didn't evacuate Galveston] were Paul and Kathi Norton, who overslept as Ike closed in on their home."
HUH? OVERSLEPT? From what I saw on the Weather Channel, it seemed like people could have safely gotten out on Friday afternoon. So did Paul and Kathi Norton sleep until the evening? Maybe they took a nap that went on too long, but that doesn't make sense to me, either. Even if you assume that they were up all night boarding up the house and loading the car, doesn't it seem like with a hurricane coming, you just get in your car and evacuate BEFORE you take a nap? And even if you assume they were so tired, they just had to take a nap -- there's a HURRICANE coming, and it was ENORMOUS. How do you relax enough to fall asleep???
And here's some proof that I don't have a lot of the milk of human kindness running through my veins: after getting the mandatory evacuation notice, THOUSANDS of people stayed in Galveston. Now there is no running water, no clean drinking water, and no power. I'm reading quotes in articles from folks in Galveston that they're not being rescued quickly enough. When the National Weather Service says that you are risking "certain death" by riding out the storm, and when officials ask you, who have refused to evacuate, to write your social security number with permanent marker on your arm to aid with identification after the storm, I really, really, really don't think you now have room to complain that people aren't coming to save you fast enough. It's not like the National Guard and the fire department and the police department and all the other departments working on this are sitting around taking a bunch of coffee breaks, and you were told on numerous occasions by many people in authority with good information to get the hell out of town. I just don't have that much sympathy.
I understand that I'm really lucky that I have a job that allows me to be out of town nearly at will and that I have the means to fund staying away from home. I know that not everybody had the resources that I have. And I don't think that these folks have gotten what they deserve -- nobody deserves the devastation I'm seeing in photographs that they're experiencing live. I just wish people used the sense that God gave them. Especially in a city like Galveston, where there's historical evidence of the carnage that a huge hurricane can wreak everywhere you look.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Partial List of Things That I Don't Love
Cilantro
Celery
Tarragon
Salads (I've just discovered this in the last few months -- I eat them because I know I should, not because I like them)
Sandwich turkey (it's starting to strike me as really weird)
Berries (they're delicious, but the seeds are REALLY irritating)
King crab
People who pretend to be independent but are really not
Oaky wine
People who put all of their stuff in the overhead compartment (I know, I know, but it belongs on the list)
Dry cupcakes (I had the driest cupcake of my life yesterday -- really, really bad)
Public bathrooms
Shopping under duress
Celery
Tarragon
Salads (I've just discovered this in the last few months -- I eat them because I know I should, not because I like them)
Sandwich turkey (it's starting to strike me as really weird)
Berries (they're delicious, but the seeds are REALLY irritating)
King crab
People who pretend to be independent but are really not
Oaky wine
People who put all of their stuff in the overhead compartment (I know, I know, but it belongs on the list)
Dry cupcakes (I had the driest cupcake of my life yesterday -- really, really bad)
Public bathrooms
Shopping under duress
Partial List of Things That I Love
Pocket doors
Vegetables (but not lettuce)
Ceramic tiles
Sephora
My new Revlon ColorStay lipstick
Sudoku
Purses
Sage (the herb -- interestingly, I'm learning that I don't like tarragon)
Sauvignon blanc
Gala apples
Craftsman-style architecture
Braised beef
The sensationalistic nature of the Weather Channel's coverage of natural disasters
Snow crab
Snarky men
Symmetry
Dinner parties
The smell of gasoline (I know this is not good for you, so it's not like I hang out at gas stations huffing or anything, but I don't mind getting out of the car to fill up the tank)
Vegetables (but not lettuce)
Ceramic tiles
Sephora
My new Revlon ColorStay lipstick
Sudoku
Purses
Sage (the herb -- interestingly, I'm learning that I don't like tarragon)
Sauvignon blanc
Gala apples
Craftsman-style architecture
Braised beef
The sensationalistic nature of the Weather Channel's coverage of natural disasters
Snow crab
Snarky men
Symmetry
Dinner parties
The smell of gasoline (I know this is not good for you, so it's not like I hang out at gas stations huffing or anything, but I don't mind getting out of the car to fill up the tank)
The "Sorry I Haven't Updated in So Long" Post
It's been kind of a crazy few weeks! My vacation in Italy was fantastic -- I have pictures and video, but I haven't been able to get everything up. (The pictures and one video are up on Facebook, so that's a good place to start.) I liked the cooking school so much, I think I'm going to back next year. And I'm going to learn some Italian. They're so laid back there that I think it's really good for me.
The villa is about a 40-minute taxi ride away from the Arezzo train station, which is itself an hour train ride away from Florence. The last 15-20 minutes of the taxi ride are up a pretty steep gravel trail (it's really deceptive to call it a road) with many switchbacks, so getting to Torre del Tartufo isn't easy. It's absolutely stunning there -- beautiful views of the mountains and valleys, and the sky was so clear at night, you could see thousands of stars. I only left twice -- once on the excursion that's an official part of the week, and once to get some cash from the closest ATM (30 minutes away). Other folks went to Florence and Arezzo and Cortona during the week, but I had a stack of 6 books to read, and I read them. Heavenly.
I was supposed to go to New Orleans the following week, but when my plane from Florence landed in Paris, I had an e-mail from the W there saying that because of Gustav, they weren't going to be able to honor my reservation. It gave me a chance to clean up my apartment some (not completely -- I hate cleaning) and sleep in some, so that was ok. I ran some errands and slowed down my calorie intake (Italian cooking school is not for people on diets) and got some work done, too, so it was more like my usual staycation.
Sunday, I left for Dallas to spend some time with my parents, Monday I was writing script for Tuesday's meeting, which went well. I had dinner with my parents after the AER on Tuesday, and then jumped on a delayed flight to San Jose. And that's when my plans started to fall apart.
The meeting went relatively well on Thursday, but the IRO for El Paso Energy was there, and he was scheduled to be on the 6pm flight from SFO to IAH (I was originally scheduled on the 6:10am from San Jose to IAH on FRIDAY, but changed it to the 6pm from SFO on Thursday when I started paying attention to Ike). He'd been tracking Ike all through dinner on Wednesday night and all through the first part of the morning on Thursday, and during the break, he informed me that he was now taking the 2pm from SFO to IAH, that he had to leave right after noon, and that I should get on the same plane. I present in both the morning and the afternoon, so that wasn't really an option for me.
After he left, the other 15 IROs and my colleagues all started telling me that I was crazy to try to hurry back to Houston to beat a hurricane. So I switched my ticket to go back on Monday, found a cheaper rental car, and started the search for a cheaper hotel (I don't think the company will cover my expenses).
Luckily, the company has a San Francisco office, and I have two lovely colleagues who work there who happened to be in town. They organized dinner, and then we went to karaoke (SO MUCH FUN), and then we spent Saturday in the Alexander Valley. They both invited me to join them in their plans on Saturday night, but I was tired, and I wanted to watch the Weather Channel obsessively and check in on my friends who stayed in Houston. I've gotten updates from most, but I'm encouraged by what I'm hearing from folks.
I'm not flying to Houston on Monday -- there's no point. My understanding is that they've barricaded the downtown area and won't be starting on cleanup until they've made good headway in the Medical Center (which makes perfect sense). I've called my number, and my answering machine is not picking up, which tells me the electricity is still out (I'm NOT looking forward to cleaning out the fridge and freezer when I get back). And the answering service for the apartment complex is not picking up. I'm just really hoping that my windows made it. If they did, everything will be fine, but if they didn't, I'll have a huge amount of debris and dirty water to clean up, and I suspect I'll have to throw away most of my belongings. Plus, I'll be vulnerable to looters, curfew or not.
Because of that curfew, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get home on Friday night. My flight won't land at the airport until after 8pm, which is when it starts, and since I'm not certain what I'll be going home to, I'm not sure what to do. Is there any point in rushing home to an apartment where there's no power and water (for whatever reason, if the power goes out in my place, so does the water)?
In any event, I'm happy to be safe. I felt a little guilty while I was having fun with Carlos and Judith on Friday and Saturday, knowing that so many of my neighbors are miserable in the heat without AC. Part of me felt like I should have been there, too, hunkering down and trying to outlast Ike, but the rational part of me (the part that took the advice of all those smart people on Thursday) is really glad to be here in San Francisco, making plans to go karaokeing again tonight.
Depending on what's happened with my place (power? windows? looters?), I'm going to try to get video up this weekend, which I'll post here. I hope everyone is doing well!!
The villa is about a 40-minute taxi ride away from the Arezzo train station, which is itself an hour train ride away from Florence. The last 15-20 minutes of the taxi ride are up a pretty steep gravel trail (it's really deceptive to call it a road) with many switchbacks, so getting to Torre del Tartufo isn't easy. It's absolutely stunning there -- beautiful views of the mountains and valleys, and the sky was so clear at night, you could see thousands of stars. I only left twice -- once on the excursion that's an official part of the week, and once to get some cash from the closest ATM (30 minutes away). Other folks went to Florence and Arezzo and Cortona during the week, but I had a stack of 6 books to read, and I read them. Heavenly.
I was supposed to go to New Orleans the following week, but when my plane from Florence landed in Paris, I had an e-mail from the W there saying that because of Gustav, they weren't going to be able to honor my reservation. It gave me a chance to clean up my apartment some (not completely -- I hate cleaning) and sleep in some, so that was ok. I ran some errands and slowed down my calorie intake (Italian cooking school is not for people on diets) and got some work done, too, so it was more like my usual staycation.
Sunday, I left for Dallas to spend some time with my parents, Monday I was writing script for Tuesday's meeting, which went well. I had dinner with my parents after the AER on Tuesday, and then jumped on a delayed flight to San Jose. And that's when my plans started to fall apart.
The meeting went relatively well on Thursday, but the IRO for El Paso Energy was there, and he was scheduled to be on the 6pm flight from SFO to IAH (I was originally scheduled on the 6:10am from San Jose to IAH on FRIDAY, but changed it to the 6pm from SFO on Thursday when I started paying attention to Ike). He'd been tracking Ike all through dinner on Wednesday night and all through the first part of the morning on Thursday, and during the break, he informed me that he was now taking the 2pm from SFO to IAH, that he had to leave right after noon, and that I should get on the same plane. I present in both the morning and the afternoon, so that wasn't really an option for me.
After he left, the other 15 IROs and my colleagues all started telling me that I was crazy to try to hurry back to Houston to beat a hurricane. So I switched my ticket to go back on Monday, found a cheaper rental car, and started the search for a cheaper hotel (I don't think the company will cover my expenses).
Luckily, the company has a San Francisco office, and I have two lovely colleagues who work there who happened to be in town. They organized dinner, and then we went to karaoke (SO MUCH FUN), and then we spent Saturday in the Alexander Valley. They both invited me to join them in their plans on Saturday night, but I was tired, and I wanted to watch the Weather Channel obsessively and check in on my friends who stayed in Houston. I've gotten updates from most, but I'm encouraged by what I'm hearing from folks.
I'm not flying to Houston on Monday -- there's no point. My understanding is that they've barricaded the downtown area and won't be starting on cleanup until they've made good headway in the Medical Center (which makes perfect sense). I've called my number, and my answering machine is not picking up, which tells me the electricity is still out (I'm NOT looking forward to cleaning out the fridge and freezer when I get back). And the answering service for the apartment complex is not picking up. I'm just really hoping that my windows made it. If they did, everything will be fine, but if they didn't, I'll have a huge amount of debris and dirty water to clean up, and I suspect I'll have to throw away most of my belongings. Plus, I'll be vulnerable to looters, curfew or not.
Because of that curfew, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get home on Friday night. My flight won't land at the airport until after 8pm, which is when it starts, and since I'm not certain what I'll be going home to, I'm not sure what to do. Is there any point in rushing home to an apartment where there's no power and water (for whatever reason, if the power goes out in my place, so does the water)?
In any event, I'm happy to be safe. I felt a little guilty while I was having fun with Carlos and Judith on Friday and Saturday, knowing that so many of my neighbors are miserable in the heat without AC. Part of me felt like I should have been there, too, hunkering down and trying to outlast Ike, but the rational part of me (the part that took the advice of all those smart people on Thursday) is really glad to be here in San Francisco, making plans to go karaokeing again tonight.
Depending on what's happened with my place (power? windows? looters?), I'm going to try to get video up this weekend, which I'll post here. I hope everyone is doing well!!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Truer words
On girls' night out, I often propose this toast:
Here's to the men that we love,
Here's to the men that love us,
But the men that we love aren't the men that love us,
So f@&% the men, here's to us.
It's a little bitter, but holy moly, this past week proved it to be fairly true. I have no game when it comes to men. None. Does anyone know where I could get some?
I think I'm going to have to amend the 5 things I'm looking for in a man. It used to be that I was looking for someone smart, funny, who could take care of himself, and was totally into me. I think it's more accurate to say that all I'm looking for in someone is that he's SNARKY. Liz called snarky my drug of choice, and when she said it, it was one of those weird, random moments of truth when you can feel something important slip into place. I could almost hear angels sing. And yes, I know it's kind of sad that snarky was the thing that caused my profound moment. I wish I could have one about work, but you don't get to pick those moments, man.
So all 3 of you who are reading this -- please keep your eyes peeled for snarky men and send them my way. Apparently they don't even have to be that nice or, tragically, that into me. I seriously have some issues, y'all.
Here's to the men that we love,
Here's to the men that love us,
But the men that we love aren't the men that love us,
So f@&% the men, here's to us.
It's a little bitter, but holy moly, this past week proved it to be fairly true. I have no game when it comes to men. None. Does anyone know where I could get some?
I think I'm going to have to amend the 5 things I'm looking for in a man. It used to be that I was looking for someone smart, funny, who could take care of himself, and was totally into me. I think it's more accurate to say that all I'm looking for in someone is that he's SNARKY. Liz called snarky my drug of choice, and when she said it, it was one of those weird, random moments of truth when you can feel something important slip into place. I could almost hear angels sing. And yes, I know it's kind of sad that snarky was the thing that caused my profound moment. I wish I could have one about work, but you don't get to pick those moments, man.
So all 3 of you who are reading this -- please keep your eyes peeled for snarky men and send them my way. Apparently they don't even have to be that nice or, tragically, that into me. I seriously have some issues, y'all.
Australia by the numbers
Bottles of wine purchased and packed in suitcase: 4
Bottles of wine making it safely to Houston after connections in LA, Houston, and DC: 4
Wineries visited: 4
Wines tasted: roughly 30
Suits purchased at Country Road: 2
Pieces of new luggage purchased: 2
Cups of cappuccino consumed: roughly 30
Hours spent playing the Baileys' Wii: 2
Hours spent at Korean karaoke bar in Melbourne: 1
Hours spent on a plane for the Oz trip: 48
Times people commented on my lack of a Texas drawl: 5
It was wonderful to be there, because I love Australia, but it's nice to be home, too. Of course, now I'm not home -- I'm in the Air France lounge at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, waiting for my flight to Florence. I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, because I was promised a shower, and there aren't any here. I feel yucky.
In any event, I'll be posting photos from cooking school in Arezzo on Facebook and here. Regrettably, I have no photos from Australia. I'm really bad at remembering to take photos, but I'm going to try really hard in Tuscany.
Dude, French keyboards are tripping me out. There are a few keys that are in different places, and it's seriously slowing me down!!
Bottles of wine making it safely to Houston after connections in LA, Houston, and DC: 4
Wineries visited: 4
Wines tasted: roughly 30
Suits purchased at Country Road: 2
Pieces of new luggage purchased: 2
Cups of cappuccino consumed: roughly 30
Hours spent playing the Baileys' Wii: 2
Hours spent at Korean karaoke bar in Melbourne: 1
Hours spent on a plane for the Oz trip: 48
Times people commented on my lack of a Texas drawl: 5
It was wonderful to be there, because I love Australia, but it's nice to be home, too. Of course, now I'm not home -- I'm in the Air France lounge at Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, waiting for my flight to Florence. I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, because I was promised a shower, and there aren't any here. I feel yucky.
In any event, I'll be posting photos from cooking school in Arezzo on Facebook and here. Regrettably, I have no photos from Australia. I'm really bad at remembering to take photos, but I'm going to try really hard in Tuscany.
Dude, French keyboards are tripping me out. There are a few keys that are in different places, and it's seriously slowing me down!!
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Sensory Overload
Liz and I went to see The Dark Knight yesterday at the IMAX theater. The movie was fantastic, but I have to say that seeing it on the IMAX screen was overwhelming. The second the movie started with an aerial shot of a skyscraper, I was pretty sure we were in for it.
Don't get me wrong -- I loved the movie. I had my eyes closed during parts of it, which I know was unnecessary because most of the gory violence happens off-screen. I thought Christian Bale was great as Batman/Bruce Wayne, as usual (I've loved him since Empire of the Sun). I love the way that Michael Caine's character, Alfred Pennyworth, and Morgan Freeman's character, Lucius Fox, balance out Bruce Wayne and keep him grounded and sane. And I thought Heather Ledger was amazing, although perhaps not necessarily Oscar-worthy.
But this was a seriously intense movie, both in terms of implied violence, action scenes, and explosions and in terms of the morality themes in the plot. Seeing on that gigantic screen, while sometimes gratifying (hello, Christian Bale's handsome mug), left the audience with no place to hide.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. But I'm glad we went to an afternoon matinee. Seeing the movie on the IMAX screen had the same effect on me as several cups of coffee. My hands were trembling, my heart was pounding, and I was jumpy. If I see the movie again, I think I'm going to opt for a regular screen with a bottle of beer.
Don't get me wrong -- I loved the movie. I had my eyes closed during parts of it, which I know was unnecessary because most of the gory violence happens off-screen. I thought Christian Bale was great as Batman/Bruce Wayne, as usual (I've loved him since Empire of the Sun). I love the way that Michael Caine's character, Alfred Pennyworth, and Morgan Freeman's character, Lucius Fox, balance out Bruce Wayne and keep him grounded and sane. And I thought Heather Ledger was amazing, although perhaps not necessarily Oscar-worthy.
But this was a seriously intense movie, both in terms of implied violence, action scenes, and explosions and in terms of the morality themes in the plot. Seeing on that gigantic screen, while sometimes gratifying (hello, Christian Bale's handsome mug), left the audience with no place to hide.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. But I'm glad we went to an afternoon matinee. Seeing the movie on the IMAX screen had the same effect on me as several cups of coffee. My hands were trembling, my heart was pounding, and I was jumpy. If I see the movie again, I think I'm going to opt for a regular screen with a bottle of beer.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Baseball Game!!
I love baseball. As my friend Kathy said, "Sometimes baseball is just what the doctor ordered." Here's what happened at the Astros game tonight:
* I ate a hot dog. Normally I go with the chili cheese dog, but this time I went with mustard, ketchup, and relish. Delicious!
* I was still hungry, so I got some nachos, too. I didn't eat the whole thing, just a third.
* I had a beer and half. One Miller Lite and one Bud Lite. They both tasted pretty bad.
* There were two 24-year-old girls sitting behind Kathy and me, complaining for 3 innings about how their boyfriends who are studying for the BAR EXAM aren't paying enough attention to them. They made me a little embarassed to be a woman. They spent the next 3 innings complaining about how they don't get enough respect at work. Then they left. THANK GOD.
* The pitcher, Moehler, whom I don't know, pitched 8 2/3 innings. It was FANTASTIC. He let two guys get on base in the 9th, and they pulled him out after his 100th pitch. We gave him a standing ovation when he left the mound.
* I saw Lance Berkman hit the ball into the pitcher's stomach. I'm not saying that's something I want to see every day, but holy moly -- I can't believe Arroyo was able to breathe!
* And then Arroyo hit Berkman. Bad pitcher. Bad.
* Which is ok, because Carlos Lee came up and hit a home run. With the bases loaded. In baseball parlance, we call that a GRAND SLAM. FREAKING AWESOME!!!
* Astros won, 6-2.
I know they're not great, but I love them anyway.
* I ate a hot dog. Normally I go with the chili cheese dog, but this time I went with mustard, ketchup, and relish. Delicious!
* I was still hungry, so I got some nachos, too. I didn't eat the whole thing, just a third.
* I had a beer and half. One Miller Lite and one Bud Lite. They both tasted pretty bad.
* There were two 24-year-old girls sitting behind Kathy and me, complaining for 3 innings about how their boyfriends who are studying for the BAR EXAM aren't paying enough attention to them. They made me a little embarassed to be a woman. They spent the next 3 innings complaining about how they don't get enough respect at work. Then they left. THANK GOD.
* The pitcher, Moehler, whom I don't know, pitched 8 2/3 innings. It was FANTASTIC. He let two guys get on base in the 9th, and they pulled him out after his 100th pitch. We gave him a standing ovation when he left the mound.
* I saw Lance Berkman hit the ball into the pitcher's stomach. I'm not saying that's something I want to see every day, but holy moly -- I can't believe Arroyo was able to breathe!
* And then Arroyo hit Berkman. Bad pitcher. Bad.
* Which is ok, because Carlos Lee came up and hit a home run. With the bases loaded. In baseball parlance, we call that a GRAND SLAM. FREAKING AWESOME!!!
* Astros won, 6-2.
I know they're not great, but I love them anyway.
Skirmish
On my flight back from DC last week, there was a skirmish. With the charge for baggage these days, there's even more competition than ever to get bags in the overhead compartment. It means that it's even more of a douchebag move than ever to put all of your bags in the overhead when you have a seat in front of you.
I was in the second row of coach, and a woman sitting across the aisle in the first row (we'll call her Lady A) started freaking out. Apparently, the woman sitting in the aisle seat of my half row (we'll call her Lady B) took Lady A's bag out, because she felt like it belonged under the seat in front of its owner. (In Catherineland, sitting in the bulkhead row is the only excuse for putting everything in the overhead). Lady A started yelling about it and how expensive her bag was and asked to talk to a flight attendant, who offered to find her a customer service representative. Lady B continued to act as if she'd done nothing wrong, and then started complaining of back pain. The customer service agent took Lady A out to the jetway, and Lady B started whining that she hadn't done anything wrong and that there wasn't enough room for her bag.
The sour-faced lady who sat in front of Lady B apparently had had enough, because she turned around and said, "What you did was EXCEPTIONALLY rude. EXCEPTIONALLY." And then she stormed out to the jetway as well. Lady B mocked the "exceptionally" so the guy across the aisle from her also started to rebuke her. And then Lady B started with the, "I'm tired and don't feel well, and I'm just trying to make room for my bag."
The guy sitting between us tried to reason with her. And that's when I put my earplugs in.
I consider putting all of your bags in the overhead to be a cardinal sin (it's only the 1,349th time I've written about it here), but holy moly, MOVING someone's bag OUT of the overhead compartment to make room for yours, and then WHINING when you get called out on it? That takes some serious moxie. Where do these people come from???
I was in the second row of coach, and a woman sitting across the aisle in the first row (we'll call her Lady A) started freaking out. Apparently, the woman sitting in the aisle seat of my half row (we'll call her Lady B) took Lady A's bag out, because she felt like it belonged under the seat in front of its owner. (In Catherineland, sitting in the bulkhead row is the only excuse for putting everything in the overhead). Lady A started yelling about it and how expensive her bag was and asked to talk to a flight attendant, who offered to find her a customer service representative. Lady B continued to act as if she'd done nothing wrong, and then started complaining of back pain. The customer service agent took Lady A out to the jetway, and Lady B started whining that she hadn't done anything wrong and that there wasn't enough room for her bag.
The sour-faced lady who sat in front of Lady B apparently had had enough, because she turned around and said, "What you did was EXCEPTIONALLY rude. EXCEPTIONALLY." And then she stormed out to the jetway as well. Lady B mocked the "exceptionally" so the guy across the aisle from her also started to rebuke her. And then Lady B started with the, "I'm tired and don't feel well, and I'm just trying to make room for my bag."
The guy sitting between us tried to reason with her. And that's when I put my earplugs in.
I consider putting all of your bags in the overhead to be a cardinal sin (it's only the 1,349th time I've written about it here), but holy moly, MOVING someone's bag OUT of the overhead compartment to make room for yours, and then WHINING when you get called out on it? That takes some serious moxie. Where do these people come from???
Monday, July 28, 2008
"Where?" Update
Ok, on the heels of the previous post, here's my travel schedule:
August 4-5: NYC (work)
August 7-19: Australia (work)
August 19-22: DC (work)
August 23-31: ITALY (NOT WORK!!!)
September 2-5: NEW ORLEANS (NOT WORK! Well, I'll have to do some work, but I'm not traveling for work, if that makes sense.)
September 7-9: Dallas (work)
September 9-12: Silicon Valley (work)
September 16-19: NYC (work, but I'm also going to Yankee Stadium one evening)
September 23-24: NYC (work)
September 29-October 4: San Francisco (work)
I am insane for scheduling that trip to Italy.
August 4-5: NYC (work)
August 7-19: Australia (work)
August 19-22: DC (work)
August 23-31: ITALY (NOT WORK!!!)
September 2-5: NEW ORLEANS (NOT WORK! Well, I'll have to do some work, but I'm not traveling for work, if that makes sense.)
September 7-9: Dallas (work)
September 9-12: Silicon Valley (work)
September 16-19: NYC (work, but I'm also going to Yankee Stadium one evening)
September 23-24: NYC (work)
September 29-October 4: San Francisco (work)
I am insane for scheduling that trip to Italy.
All I Ever Wanted
Oh, my gosh -- I'm going on a real vacation! I'm taking the last week of August off, and possibly the first week of September, and I was toying with the idea of going on a road trip to South Dakota to see Mount Rushmore and the Badlands (I love saying "Badlands" -- try saying it with gusto, and you'll understand why). But the thought of being in the car for 20 hours there and 20 hours back made me feel tired, and while I can accept the idea of being tired after vacation, it seems wrong to dread vacation.
I've been wanting to go to Italian cooking school. I read about it somewhere four years ago, and bookmarked it on my computer. And every now and then, I'd pull up the page and think "next year." It's not a cheap vacation, and I doubt Suze Orman would approve of me going (she's the reason I'm not buying a new car), but I'm excited about going, and I need a real vacation. I think the last one I went on was in 2004 when Heather and I took the QM2 from New York City to Southampton and then spent a week in Ireland.
I do a lot of staycations -- vacations where I stay at home. I'll clean my pigsty of an apartment and run errands, basically taking time off to do the things I don't do because I'm traveling. I get a lot of rest during these vacations, but I don't think they actually recharge my batteries, and I desperately need my batteries to be recharged.
My mom's worried that I'm traveling by myself, and she thinks I'd have more fun if I were with a friend (she was gracious enough not to suggest it as a honeymoon), but I explained to her that I've been wanting to do this for four years, and it's hard to find someone willing to drop the amount of money this is going to take. The only reason I can sort of afford it is because I'm using (a lot of) miles for the plane ticket. She's still worried, thinking that there's safety in numbers, which, of course, there is, but I feel like I delay doing a lot of things because there's safety in numbers, and I'm just one. I'm in a rut, and I need to shake things up and get out of it.
I'm looking forward to walking around in the hazelnut and apple orchards on the property of the school. I'm looking forward to sitting by the pool, slathered in sunblock and catching up on my reading (I think my suitcase is going to be kind of heavy). I'm looking forward to not having any connectivity and not being able to check e-mail. And most of all, I'm looking forward to having the time away from my life to figure out what I really want and what I should be doing.
After I get back, I'm going to take a day to catch my breath, and then Liz and I have plans to go to New Orleans. The W in the French Quarter is having a crazy deal, probably because it's hotter than hell in Louisiana in the late summer and nobody in their right minds wants to be there. I've never been to New Orleans, though, and the shorter road trip sounds like fun rather than a burden. And also -- BEIGNETS. I'm a sucker for deep fried dough.
I'm hoping that at the end of it all, I'll be exhausted but rejuvenated with a fresh outlook on life and some mad Italian cooking skillz. I'll let you know how it goes!
I've been wanting to go to Italian cooking school. I read about it somewhere four years ago, and bookmarked it on my computer. And every now and then, I'd pull up the page and think "next year." It's not a cheap vacation, and I doubt Suze Orman would approve of me going (she's the reason I'm not buying a new car), but I'm excited about going, and I need a real vacation. I think the last one I went on was in 2004 when Heather and I took the QM2 from New York City to Southampton and then spent a week in Ireland.
I do a lot of staycations -- vacations where I stay at home. I'll clean my pigsty of an apartment and run errands, basically taking time off to do the things I don't do because I'm traveling. I get a lot of rest during these vacations, but I don't think they actually recharge my batteries, and I desperately need my batteries to be recharged.
My mom's worried that I'm traveling by myself, and she thinks I'd have more fun if I were with a friend (she was gracious enough not to suggest it as a honeymoon), but I explained to her that I've been wanting to do this for four years, and it's hard to find someone willing to drop the amount of money this is going to take. The only reason I can sort of afford it is because I'm using (a lot of) miles for the plane ticket. She's still worried, thinking that there's safety in numbers, which, of course, there is, but I feel like I delay doing a lot of things because there's safety in numbers, and I'm just one. I'm in a rut, and I need to shake things up and get out of it.
I'm looking forward to walking around in the hazelnut and apple orchards on the property of the school. I'm looking forward to sitting by the pool, slathered in sunblock and catching up on my reading (I think my suitcase is going to be kind of heavy). I'm looking forward to not having any connectivity and not being able to check e-mail. And most of all, I'm looking forward to having the time away from my life to figure out what I really want and what I should be doing.
After I get back, I'm going to take a day to catch my breath, and then Liz and I have plans to go to New Orleans. The W in the French Quarter is having a crazy deal, probably because it's hotter than hell in Louisiana in the late summer and nobody in their right minds wants to be there. I've never been to New Orleans, though, and the shorter road trip sounds like fun rather than a burden. And also -- BEIGNETS. I'm a sucker for deep fried dough.
I'm hoping that at the end of it all, I'll be exhausted but rejuvenated with a fresh outlook on life and some mad Italian cooking skillz. I'll let you know how it goes!
Confession
I spent Sunday on the couch watching various tv show marathons on USA and A&E and Bravo instead of cleaning my horribly messy apartment. And my new BrickBreaker high score is 135,360. I think the game could have gone on infinitely, because I had 53 lives when the little ball disappeared.
I have GOT to get a life.
I have GOT to get a life.
Monday, July 21, 2008
List
Here's a partial list of movies that I will stop and watch on tv no matter what else I'm doing:
Starship Troopers (previously discussed here)
The Shawshank Redemption (I've never seen this entire movie)
While You Were Sleeping
Roadhouse (I've never seen this entire movie, either)
Any of the Thin Man movies
Ocean's Eleven
The Bourne movies
Tomb Raiders I and II
Here's a movie I've seen four times this month on my Continental flights to and from DC and will likely watch again later this week:
Penelope (I would say that it exceeded all my expectations, except that I didn't have any because I hadn't heard of it. It's a good movie for little girls. I could nitpick certain things, but it's just too freaking charming.)
And the procrastination section of the evening is complete. Big meeting tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Starship Troopers (previously discussed here)
The Shawshank Redemption (I've never seen this entire movie)
While You Were Sleeping
Roadhouse (I've never seen this entire movie, either)
Any of the Thin Man movies
Ocean's Eleven
The Bourne movies
Tomb Raiders I and II
Here's a movie I've seen four times this month on my Continental flights to and from DC and will likely watch again later this week:
Penelope (I would say that it exceeded all my expectations, except that I didn't have any because I hadn't heard of it. It's a good movie for little girls. I could nitpick certain things, but it's just too freaking charming.)
And the procrastination section of the evening is complete. Big meeting tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Friday, July 18, 2008
Pure Joy
If you're having a bad day, I guarantee this will make it better.
Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.
Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Fairy Godmother
I'm lucky to have a lot of really great friends. It's arguable as to whether it's right or nice for me to drop friends the way I do when I stop having respect for them or when I have the realization that I don't enjoy spending time with them at all, but what it means is that the friends I do have are all amazing.
Yesterday, one of those friends showed me just how amazing she is. Tuesday was a horrible day at the office, mostly because it wasn't supposed to be a day at the office. I'll go into more detail in another entry about what happened from my perspective (because as usual at the office, my perspective doesn't matter), but it's enough to know that I spent a good two hours of the day crying.
On Wednesday morning, Shana sent me an e-mail message that she had a present for me. That's Shana all over -- even though she's had a horrible year, not just a horrible day, and she needs to take a break more than any other person I know, she got me a present to make me feel better.
Only it wasn't a present. It was a MILLION presents. I walked into her office and found a huge, yellow gift bag (the size of a Nordstrom shopping bag) with an 8.5X11 label that said "The 'Because I Can't Stand to See Catherine This Unhappy' Present'" (paraphrasing) FILLED with individually wrapped gifts, all with funny notes on them (again, paraphrased so you at least get an idea of how awesome this bag was).
I'm going to try to list them, but I know I'll forget some because there was SO MUCH (I had to leave the bag at the office because there was TOO MUCH STUFF to fit in my suitcase!!): a package of plastic paratroopers ("for when you feel like throwing something"), a pack of kiwi-watermelon gum, Tootsie Rolls, animal crackers ("it's a snack AND a purse -- what could be better?"), Kashi cookies, a fuzzy poster, a Bratz paper doll book, lip gloss, a yellow bracelet (which I wore home), star-shaped Post-It notes, multi-colored pens ("because you are also colorful and bold!"), a self-inking stamp that says "Terrific!", stickers that say "A+" and "Great Job!", a huge, smelly candle, bubble bath, and a tiny, stuffed rabbit. I know there's more (I'm surprised the bag was strong enough to hold everything), and when I'm back in the office and can do an in-person inventory, I will.
That gift bag might have been the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me. Just knowing that Shana got me a present was enough to lift my spirits yesterday, but seeing the thought and effort that she put into it got me peacefully and affably through a dress rehearsal where I actually wanted to set people on fire many times.
I have a fairy godmother, and her name is Shana.
Yesterday, one of those friends showed me just how amazing she is. Tuesday was a horrible day at the office, mostly because it wasn't supposed to be a day at the office. I'll go into more detail in another entry about what happened from my perspective (because as usual at the office, my perspective doesn't matter), but it's enough to know that I spent a good two hours of the day crying.
On Wednesday morning, Shana sent me an e-mail message that she had a present for me. That's Shana all over -- even though she's had a horrible year, not just a horrible day, and she needs to take a break more than any other person I know, she got me a present to make me feel better.
Only it wasn't a present. It was a MILLION presents. I walked into her office and found a huge, yellow gift bag (the size of a Nordstrom shopping bag) with an 8.5X11 label that said "The 'Because I Can't Stand to See Catherine This Unhappy' Present'" (paraphrasing) FILLED with individually wrapped gifts, all with funny notes on them (again, paraphrased so you at least get an idea of how awesome this bag was).
I'm going to try to list them, but I know I'll forget some because there was SO MUCH (I had to leave the bag at the office because there was TOO MUCH STUFF to fit in my suitcase!!): a package of plastic paratroopers ("for when you feel like throwing something"), a pack of kiwi-watermelon gum, Tootsie Rolls, animal crackers ("it's a snack AND a purse -- what could be better?"), Kashi cookies, a fuzzy poster, a Bratz paper doll book, lip gloss, a yellow bracelet (which I wore home), star-shaped Post-It notes, multi-colored pens ("because you are also colorful and bold!"), a self-inking stamp that says "Terrific!", stickers that say "A+" and "Great Job!", a huge, smelly candle, bubble bath, and a tiny, stuffed rabbit. I know there's more (I'm surprised the bag was strong enough to hold everything), and when I'm back in the office and can do an in-person inventory, I will.
That gift bag might have been the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me. Just knowing that Shana got me a present was enough to lift my spirits yesterday, but seeing the thought and effort that she put into it got me peacefully and affably through a dress rehearsal where I actually wanted to set people on fire many times.
I have a fairy godmother, and her name is Shana.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
A Small Nugget of Match Gold
I got a nibble on Match:
From: Him
Date: June 26
#1 Airline Baggage- Here is my rule, if you have to have wheels on your luggage to carry it, you have too much stuff. [EDITOR'S NOTE: seriously? You've bothered to read my profile, so huge props to you, but that means you must know that I travel a lot for business, and you're being all judgmental about luggage with wheels? Not smart.]
#2 Five things- Are you counting smart and funny as separate items? [EDITOR'S NOTE: just as a reminder, in my profile I write that I'm looking for five things in a man: smart, funny, can take care of himself, has whimsy in his heart, and is totally into me. Use your fingers and count them out, dude. And in what universe are smart and funny equivalent? There are plenty of people who are smart and not at all funny, and there are people I think are funny, but they're not all that smart.]
#3 Infield fly rule- What is wrong with the infield fly rule. I think it has served us well for the last century. [EDITOR'S NOTE: valid question, but if you're a baseball fan, you know what the divide is over the infield fly rule. I appreciate your attempt to engage me here, but this is intellectually lazy.]
#4 National league- Look if the pitcher doesn't bat, he really isn't a baseball player, so you are correct there. Interleague play is also an abomination. What's next? Cheerleaders? Here's what you can do to promote your team: ball day, bat day, helmet day, and for the Chicago White Sox, midget batters and that's it. Enough with the the astroturf, indoor stadiums, and night games at Wrigley Field. And enough with the steroids. If you don't have enough self-respect to stay off the juice, you don't belong in the show. As far as I'm concerned, Barry Bond's home run total is -0-. Sorry, I'm getting carried away here, next subject. [EDITOR'S NOTE: there's a little too much edge in this, but I ignored it as me just being picky and crazy. Little did I know. I do have to say, though, that were it not for indoor stadiums, not a lot of baseball would get played in Seattle, and not a lot of people would go to the games in Seattle or Houston. Too rainy in Seattle, and too freaking hot in Houston. Retractable roofs RULE.]
#5 Hockey? I guess women have a thing for hockey players but I've never figured out why. [EDITOR'S NOTE: my liking hockey has nothing to do with the individual players. It has to do with the speed and the ethical and behavioral code. Interesting that he went straight for what he perceives to be the only reason a woman would be interested in a sport.]
OK, that's it, I'll shut up now.
If you liked Liar's Poker because of the business climate in the 1980's, you might like The Predator's Ball or Highly Confident. I'd stay away from Den of Thieves. I just remember reading in Highly Confident that Michael Milken used to get picked up from his house @ 4:00 AM to get to work before the trading desk in New York opened, and I remember thinking, "that guy really has the eye of the tiger." He also started investing money for people by taking 50% of the profits, but 100% of the losses, and I thought the guy had iron ones. [EDITOR'S NOTE: I guess you could say he had iron ones, but he also went to prison for breaking the law, so I think that all evens out. I'm appalled that he admires Milken, frankly.]
If you liked Liar's Poker because of the juvenile humor and absurdity perpetuated by the world's most powerful men, Masters of the Universe as Wolfe called them, and you like baseball, I'd read Ball Four, of course and The Bronx Zoo. [EDITOR'S NOTE: excellent book recommendations -- he put some thought into it.]
Ok, at this point, I'm willing to go read this guy's profile. And here's what I discovered: he lives 2 hours away from me, he is separated from his wife (separated, not yet divorced, divorce is apparently in process), and he's only looking for Asian women. That's strikes 1, 2, and 3, all in pretty short order.
I know I don't owe these guys anything, but this one, while kind of a jerk, actually read and responded to my profile. He deserved a response according to the code in Catherineland. Here's what I wrote:
From: Me
Date: July 7
#1 Airline baggage: I disagree. I don't care how much luggage it takes you to survive your business trip -- just don't put all of it and your jacket in the overhead compartment.
#2 Yes. I know a lot of people who are smart and not at all funny, and several funny people who aren't that smart.
#3 Infield fly rule: it overcomplicates the game. And really -- to avoid an "unfair" out? Whatever.
#4 I agree
#5 Hockey: the game is fast and fair. Women like hockey players because they strike us as having some Neanderthal-like tendencies. We don't like it most of the time, but during three periods of hockey, it's attractive.
Thanks for the book recommendations.
To be totally honest here, I have insurmountable concerns about the fact that you live in [city edited out], that you're not yet divorced, and that you're only looking for Asian women, but I appreciate you writing.
I think that was fairly reasonable and friendly. Apparently, what I think is incorrect, because here's the response that got him onto the blog:
From: Him
Date: July 8
Literatechick-
That is a pretty nice way of putting it, insurmountable. I like that. But, of course, you are right. I am separated and not divorced which is a pretty big deal. Also, you were probably in the 5th grade when I graduated from High School and you are a lot better looking that I. [EDITOR'S NOTE: grammar error and typo. Why, yes, I'm kind of a bitch. Thanks for asking. All by itself, this paragraph seems relatively friendly and accepting, but in reality, it's passive aggressive. The next paragraph is what led me to labeling this as passive aggressive and what made this e-mail string blog-worthy.]
If you ever need help with the "overly complicated" infield fly rule, let me know. I understand a lot of women have a problem with this. You just have to understand that the game of baseball was designed by men, for men, and they didn't really take into account having to explain things to a bunch of women back in those days. Today, women can watch baseball just like men, although most of them still throw like girls. [EDITOR'S NOTE: where to start? I didn't say I found the infield fly rule overly complicated. I said that it unnecessarily complicates the game. As someone who has an opinion on the infield fly rule, I probably don't really need help with it. I do appreciate that he thinks it's ok for women to watch baseball, although since we don't play in Major League Baseball, I'm not sure what difference it makes that girls throw like girls. Seriously -- does he think that being a little bitch like this is going to get me to write him back? You're trying to manipulate the wrong chick, buddy. Misogynistic much?]
One last thing. I am not just looking for Asian women. It's not like this is an exclusive thing. It's just the Seinfeld/Changstein effect. [EDITOR'S NOTE: I don't watch Seinfeld. I have no idea what he's talking about here. But in his profile, he has ONLY selected Asian in the races that he's interested in pursuing. So maybe he's not creepy, just dumb.]
[name edited out]
This guy makes me happy to be single!
From: Him
Date: June 26
#1 Airline Baggage- Here is my rule, if you have to have wheels on your luggage to carry it, you have too much stuff. [EDITOR'S NOTE: seriously? You've bothered to read my profile, so huge props to you, but that means you must know that I travel a lot for business, and you're being all judgmental about luggage with wheels? Not smart.]
#2 Five things- Are you counting smart and funny as separate items? [EDITOR'S NOTE: just as a reminder, in my profile I write that I'm looking for five things in a man: smart, funny, can take care of himself, has whimsy in his heart, and is totally into me. Use your fingers and count them out, dude. And in what universe are smart and funny equivalent? There are plenty of people who are smart and not at all funny, and there are people I think are funny, but they're not all that smart.]
#3 Infield fly rule- What is wrong with the infield fly rule. I think it has served us well for the last century. [EDITOR'S NOTE: valid question, but if you're a baseball fan, you know what the divide is over the infield fly rule. I appreciate your attempt to engage me here, but this is intellectually lazy.]
#4 National league- Look if the pitcher doesn't bat, he really isn't a baseball player, so you are correct there. Interleague play is also an abomination. What's next? Cheerleaders? Here's what you can do to promote your team: ball day, bat day, helmet day, and for the Chicago White Sox, midget batters and that's it. Enough with the the astroturf, indoor stadiums, and night games at Wrigley Field. And enough with the steroids. If you don't have enough self-respect to stay off the juice, you don't belong in the show. As far as I'm concerned, Barry Bond's home run total is -0-. Sorry, I'm getting carried away here, next subject. [EDITOR'S NOTE: there's a little too much edge in this, but I ignored it as me just being picky and crazy. Little did I know. I do have to say, though, that were it not for indoor stadiums, not a lot of baseball would get played in Seattle, and not a lot of people would go to the games in Seattle or Houston. Too rainy in Seattle, and too freaking hot in Houston. Retractable roofs RULE.]
#5 Hockey? I guess women have a thing for hockey players but I've never figured out why. [EDITOR'S NOTE: my liking hockey has nothing to do with the individual players. It has to do with the speed and the ethical and behavioral code. Interesting that he went straight for what he perceives to be the only reason a woman would be interested in a sport.]
OK, that's it, I'll shut up now.
If you liked Liar's Poker because of the business climate in the 1980's, you might like The Predator's Ball or Highly Confident. I'd stay away from Den of Thieves. I just remember reading in Highly Confident that Michael Milken used to get picked up from his house @ 4:00 AM to get to work before the trading desk in New York opened, and I remember thinking, "that guy really has the eye of the tiger." He also started investing money for people by taking 50% of the profits, but 100% of the losses, and I thought the guy had iron ones. [EDITOR'S NOTE: I guess you could say he had iron ones, but he also went to prison for breaking the law, so I think that all evens out. I'm appalled that he admires Milken, frankly.]
If you liked Liar's Poker because of the juvenile humor and absurdity perpetuated by the world's most powerful men, Masters of the Universe as Wolfe called them, and you like baseball, I'd read Ball Four, of course and The Bronx Zoo. [EDITOR'S NOTE: excellent book recommendations -- he put some thought into it.]
Ok, at this point, I'm willing to go read this guy's profile. And here's what I discovered: he lives 2 hours away from me, he is separated from his wife (separated, not yet divorced, divorce is apparently in process), and he's only looking for Asian women. That's strikes 1, 2, and 3, all in pretty short order.
I know I don't owe these guys anything, but this one, while kind of a jerk, actually read and responded to my profile. He deserved a response according to the code in Catherineland. Here's what I wrote:
From: Me
Date: July 7
#1 Airline baggage: I disagree. I don't care how much luggage it takes you to survive your business trip -- just don't put all of it and your jacket in the overhead compartment.
#2 Yes. I know a lot of people who are smart and not at all funny, and several funny people who aren't that smart.
#3 Infield fly rule: it overcomplicates the game. And really -- to avoid an "unfair" out? Whatever.
#4 I agree
#5 Hockey: the game is fast and fair. Women like hockey players because they strike us as having some Neanderthal-like tendencies. We don't like it most of the time, but during three periods of hockey, it's attractive.
Thanks for the book recommendations.
To be totally honest here, I have insurmountable concerns about the fact that you live in [city edited out], that you're not yet divorced, and that you're only looking for Asian women, but I appreciate you writing.
I think that was fairly reasonable and friendly. Apparently, what I think is incorrect, because here's the response that got him onto the blog:
From: Him
Date: July 8
Literatechick-
That is a pretty nice way of putting it, insurmountable. I like that. But, of course, you are right. I am separated and not divorced which is a pretty big deal. Also, you were probably in the 5th grade when I graduated from High School and you are a lot better looking that I. [EDITOR'S NOTE: grammar error and typo. Why, yes, I'm kind of a bitch. Thanks for asking. All by itself, this paragraph seems relatively friendly and accepting, but in reality, it's passive aggressive. The next paragraph is what led me to labeling this as passive aggressive and what made this e-mail string blog-worthy.]
If you ever need help with the "overly complicated" infield fly rule, let me know. I understand a lot of women have a problem with this. You just have to understand that the game of baseball was designed by men, for men, and they didn't really take into account having to explain things to a bunch of women back in those days. Today, women can watch baseball just like men, although most of them still throw like girls. [EDITOR'S NOTE: where to start? I didn't say I found the infield fly rule overly complicated. I said that it unnecessarily complicates the game. As someone who has an opinion on the infield fly rule, I probably don't really need help with it. I do appreciate that he thinks it's ok for women to watch baseball, although since we don't play in Major League Baseball, I'm not sure what difference it makes that girls throw like girls. Seriously -- does he think that being a little bitch like this is going to get me to write him back? You're trying to manipulate the wrong chick, buddy. Misogynistic much?]
One last thing. I am not just looking for Asian women. It's not like this is an exclusive thing. It's just the Seinfeld/Changstein effect. [EDITOR'S NOTE: I don't watch Seinfeld. I have no idea what he's talking about here. But in his profile, he has ONLY selected Asian in the races that he's interested in pursuing. So maybe he's not creepy, just dumb.]
[name edited out]
This guy makes me happy to be single!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Long weekend
This past week, my family went to visit my grandfather in Chicago. He turned 89 in June (in Korean years, because of the way they calculate birthdays, which is based on the New Year, rather than your actual birthday, and no, I don't fully understand it myself, he's 90), and he called my mother a couple of months ago and asked her to come to Chicago and take the things from his apartment that she wanted before he called her brothers and told them to do the same thing. My mother has been crying nearly every day since.
I could only go from July 2-5 (unfortunately, the script won't write itself), but my sister is there until tomorrow, and my parents will be there until Tuesday. My grandfather hasn't been completely independent in a while, but he was able to go to Korea for a visit a couple of years ago with my mom, and he and I had dinner the night that the drunk driver nearly killed me last year (was it the year before?). I wasn't completely prepared for how much his quality of life has deteriorated.
He has to use a walker to get from the bed in the living room, where he watches Korean tv, to the bathroom in his tiny apartment. For longer trips, he has a wheelchair. He's diabetic, and he has Parkinson's, so he has to take a lot of medication 3-4 times a day. My aunt has hired a couple in their 50s and 60s to take care of him on a daily basis and get him to doctor's appointments, and there are other specialists who come on a weekly basis for things like a bath (I think showering alone is difficult for him) or therapeutic massage. It's difficult for him to sit unsupported for long stretches of time. And a lot of times he zones out because it takes too much energy for him to pay attention and participate in conversation. He hasn't lost his mental faculties -- he's still as sharp as ever. He is truly zoning out because he's tired.
My mother has two brothers in the Chicago area. One does kind of a half-baked job looking in on him and visiting with him, and the other one, the oldest of my mother's three brothers, doesn't even bother to try. In past years, when all of us would get together, and Grandpa was in much better health, at least one dinner would involve my mother (who's the oldest) and my uncles and my aunt reminiscing, which would devolve into complaining about all the unhappy memories they have from their childhood. My grandfather is the kind of person who made sure that all of his family's basic needs were met, and then he would use any leftover money to help people less fortunate than they were. My mother and her siblings have varying levels of resentment over this, but it's particularly acute in my uncles. They blame my grandfather for not giving them a better start in life, and so now, they don't take care of him. It enrages my mother, my aunt, my sister, and me, but my mother and my aunt have done everything she can to try to force my uncles to do the right thing, and they won't.
The rage is exacerbated by the knowledge that while my grandfather probably doesn't have much time left, he would have more if his spirits were higher, which they would be if he saw his family more often. He doesn't have the ability to see any of his friends, who I think have all predeceased him anyway, so all he has left is family. My parents are in Dallas, my sister is in Austin, and I'm in Houston. I should have done a much better job visiting him over the past 5 years, as often as I'm in Chicago for work. I don't really have a good excuse, except that the language barrier is really hard, and it's not easy to get to his place and back to work in a time-efficient manner. Really lame. Really just about as lame as being resentful about a crappy childhood.
I asked my dad why my parents don't move him to Dallas. He said that it's partly that Grandpa's doctors and caregivers, all of whom are Korean, are in Chicago, and partly it's that he gets a lot of assistance from the State of Illinois, a lot more than he would get from the State of Texas. My sister says that it's also partly because my dad doesn't want to live with his father-in-law. I didn't ask about that issue because I'm not ready to see my dad as being that selfish. I understand that my grandfather is not an easy man to live with, and that it would be uncomfortable having someone senior to you in the Korean pecking order living in your own house, but like I said, my grandfather doesn't have much time left.
Something I always wanted to do was to ask my grandfather to tell some stories of his childhood, so they could be written down somewhere, not necessarily as a book to be published, but just as something for my family to have. There's a picture of my great-grandparents in Grandpa's apartment, and my mother told me that Grandpa was the last of 3 boys, which I knew. What I didn't know is that he was the youngest by about 8 or 9 years, and that when he was born, his mother was so malnourished that her breast milk wasn't very nourishing, either. I guess there wasn't much food in general -- my grandfather was 4 or 5 before he was able to walk. These are the stories that I wish I had learned enough Korean to ask him about myself.
My grandfather and his brothers may have been the most enlightened men in Korea for their generation. My mother is the oldest of five; it's her, the rotten uncle, my uncle in New Mexico, my superstressed uncle, and then my aunt. During their childhood, it would have been really easy for my grandfather to focus all of his resources on educating his sons and ignoring the education of his daughters. But instead, he said regardless of whether you're a boy or a girl, I have an obligation to make sure you have the same opportunities for education.
I always thought that was the influence of my grandmother, who was a teacher. (I'm pretty sure my uncles would be taking better care of my grandparents if she were still alive, but she died the year before I graduated from high shcool. She was the one person in the whole world who was always on my side no matter what and thought that I could do no wrong. My mother has always looked young for her age, but when my grandmother passed away, my mother's face aged 10 years overnight.) When I visited Portland a couple of weeks ago, though,(and I keep meaning to post with some photos), my second cousin Christine told me some stories of her grandfather, the middle brother, that make me think that my grandfather and my great uncles were generations ahead of their time. Christine's mother is the oldest of 8 (I think), and her father made sure she went to college as well. Not only that, but when Aunt Ellen (Ul-bin Emo) looked around after she graduated, she saw that there weren't many opportunities beyond teaching for a college-educated woman in Korea, and so she looked west to the US. My great uncle was a banker, but after the Korean war, all the money was confiscated, so he scraped together enough money for a one-way ticket to the US and told her she had to make it.
I wish I'd actually made an effort to collect stories like this from my grandfather. I'm going to ask my mom to help with this. Maybe it will give him a sense of purpose that will help him want to live. His doctors say that even though he has some issues, his health is ok, and he could live for a few more years. I wish there were something more I could do.
I could only go from July 2-5 (unfortunately, the script won't write itself), but my sister is there until tomorrow, and my parents will be there until Tuesday. My grandfather hasn't been completely independent in a while, but he was able to go to Korea for a visit a couple of years ago with my mom, and he and I had dinner the night that the drunk driver nearly killed me last year (was it the year before?). I wasn't completely prepared for how much his quality of life has deteriorated.
He has to use a walker to get from the bed in the living room, where he watches Korean tv, to the bathroom in his tiny apartment. For longer trips, he has a wheelchair. He's diabetic, and he has Parkinson's, so he has to take a lot of medication 3-4 times a day. My aunt has hired a couple in their 50s and 60s to take care of him on a daily basis and get him to doctor's appointments, and there are other specialists who come on a weekly basis for things like a bath (I think showering alone is difficult for him) or therapeutic massage. It's difficult for him to sit unsupported for long stretches of time. And a lot of times he zones out because it takes too much energy for him to pay attention and participate in conversation. He hasn't lost his mental faculties -- he's still as sharp as ever. He is truly zoning out because he's tired.
My mother has two brothers in the Chicago area. One does kind of a half-baked job looking in on him and visiting with him, and the other one, the oldest of my mother's three brothers, doesn't even bother to try. In past years, when all of us would get together, and Grandpa was in much better health, at least one dinner would involve my mother (who's the oldest) and my uncles and my aunt reminiscing, which would devolve into complaining about all the unhappy memories they have from their childhood. My grandfather is the kind of person who made sure that all of his family's basic needs were met, and then he would use any leftover money to help people less fortunate than they were. My mother and her siblings have varying levels of resentment over this, but it's particularly acute in my uncles. They blame my grandfather for not giving them a better start in life, and so now, they don't take care of him. It enrages my mother, my aunt, my sister, and me, but my mother and my aunt have done everything she can to try to force my uncles to do the right thing, and they won't.
The rage is exacerbated by the knowledge that while my grandfather probably doesn't have much time left, he would have more if his spirits were higher, which they would be if he saw his family more often. He doesn't have the ability to see any of his friends, who I think have all predeceased him anyway, so all he has left is family. My parents are in Dallas, my sister is in Austin, and I'm in Houston. I should have done a much better job visiting him over the past 5 years, as often as I'm in Chicago for work. I don't really have a good excuse, except that the language barrier is really hard, and it's not easy to get to his place and back to work in a time-efficient manner. Really lame. Really just about as lame as being resentful about a crappy childhood.
I asked my dad why my parents don't move him to Dallas. He said that it's partly that Grandpa's doctors and caregivers, all of whom are Korean, are in Chicago, and partly it's that he gets a lot of assistance from the State of Illinois, a lot more than he would get from the State of Texas. My sister says that it's also partly because my dad doesn't want to live with his father-in-law. I didn't ask about that issue because I'm not ready to see my dad as being that selfish. I understand that my grandfather is not an easy man to live with, and that it would be uncomfortable having someone senior to you in the Korean pecking order living in your own house, but like I said, my grandfather doesn't have much time left.
Something I always wanted to do was to ask my grandfather to tell some stories of his childhood, so they could be written down somewhere, not necessarily as a book to be published, but just as something for my family to have. There's a picture of my great-grandparents in Grandpa's apartment, and my mother told me that Grandpa was the last of 3 boys, which I knew. What I didn't know is that he was the youngest by about 8 or 9 years, and that when he was born, his mother was so malnourished that her breast milk wasn't very nourishing, either. I guess there wasn't much food in general -- my grandfather was 4 or 5 before he was able to walk. These are the stories that I wish I had learned enough Korean to ask him about myself.
My grandfather and his brothers may have been the most enlightened men in Korea for their generation. My mother is the oldest of five; it's her, the rotten uncle, my uncle in New Mexico, my superstressed uncle, and then my aunt. During their childhood, it would have been really easy for my grandfather to focus all of his resources on educating his sons and ignoring the education of his daughters. But instead, he said regardless of whether you're a boy or a girl, I have an obligation to make sure you have the same opportunities for education.
I always thought that was the influence of my grandmother, who was a teacher. (I'm pretty sure my uncles would be taking better care of my grandparents if she were still alive, but she died the year before I graduated from high shcool. She was the one person in the whole world who was always on my side no matter what and thought that I could do no wrong. My mother has always looked young for her age, but when my grandmother passed away, my mother's face aged 10 years overnight.) When I visited Portland a couple of weeks ago, though,(and I keep meaning to post with some photos), my second cousin Christine told me some stories of her grandfather, the middle brother, that make me think that my grandfather and my great uncles were generations ahead of their time. Christine's mother is the oldest of 8 (I think), and her father made sure she went to college as well. Not only that, but when Aunt Ellen (Ul-bin Emo) looked around after she graduated, she saw that there weren't many opportunities beyond teaching for a college-educated woman in Korea, and so she looked west to the US. My great uncle was a banker, but after the Korean war, all the money was confiscated, so he scraped together enough money for a one-way ticket to the US and told her she had to make it.
I wish I'd actually made an effort to collect stories like this from my grandfather. I'm going to ask my mom to help with this. Maybe it will give him a sense of purpose that will help him want to live. His doctors say that even though he has some issues, his health is ok, and he could live for a few more years. I wish there were something more I could do.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Whanged Out
I'm still trying to recover from my delayed redeye back from Portland: I left for Pilates and lunch and came back to discover that my house keys were still in the lock.
More on Portland, with pictures and possibly video, later!
More on Portland, with pictures and possibly video, later!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Delicate
Is there a right way to tell a colleague that he smells really bad? I'm talking about deadly breath that could knock you down and terrible BO. I think that I just have to grit my teeth and bear it, but holy moly, I've never experienced anything like it.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Scary!
I tried to post this by e-mailing it in, but it didn't work. Bummer.
Yesterday morning at the airport, I got an e-mail from Shana inviting me to dinner at her place. Shana's one of my favorite people at the office, and I almost never get homecooked meals when I'm on the road, so I immediately accepted her kind offer.
After work, we drove through pouring thunderstorms to the grocery store to pick up dinner fixings. We both commented on the habit of drivers in the DC area of avoiding hurting the raindrops. We dilly-dallied at the grocery store because it was fun (and because I'm staying at a suites hotel, I got a couple of healthier things to keep in the fridge/freezer), and then headed to her and Jeff's apartment.
Shana called Jeff as we neared the apartment to ask him to come down and help us with groceries. He was already downstairs and waiting for us, and all three of us were laughing about it. Shana and Jeff hung up their cell phones, then there was a crack, Jeff screamed, and a massive tree branch hit Shana's car.
Yes, you read that correctly. A massive tree branch hit Shana's car. How massive? The diameter of the branch was 6 inches. Miraculously, the only damage done to the car was that a little over a third of the driver's side mirror shattered and disappeared.
I don't use the word "miraculously" lightly here. Shana drives a convertible. I think it helped tremendously that it's a hardtop (the very cute Pontiac Solstice), even though Jeff read that Consumer Reports says that a hardtop won't help in a serious accident.
Jeff was freaked out because he was outside and saw the massive tree branch drop (Shana wants to call the branch "Ed," but Jeff and I prefer "Beelzebub"). Shana didn't hear the crack or Jeff's shout -- all she heard was the huge thunk on the roof of the car right above our heads. I ducked and covered, not that it would have helped if the roof had caved.
I took video of it with my Flip. You're not going to believe how big this branch was.
What was equally amazing was watching the apartment complex maintenance guys take the branch apart and haul it away. They started with clippers and took off the smaller branches. Then they broke out the chainsaw. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to grab the Flip, because it was a sight to see. They had the whole thing cleared away in 30 minutes. Except for a few wood shavings and a couple of leaves on the ground, you'd never know that there was a near catastrophe.
Shana tested the top on the convertible to make sure it worked right, and it does. The roof and hood were wet, so we couldn't tell for sure, but it really seems like there aren't even any scratches on the car. We're going to check later today in the dark, but dry, parking garage.
We talked a lot about how many things have to happen at precise moments for you to be in a place where a tree branch can fall on the car. If it hadn't been raining, the top would have been down, but if if hadn't been raining, we would have gotten to the store and home sooner, and the tree's leaves wouldn't be saturated with water. If we hadn't played so long at the store, it would have been a near miss rather than a hit. A few more seconds, and instead of Jeff being well out of the danger zone, he might have been right in it without the protection of a car.
I'll never forget the look on Jeff's face as he frantically looked for a way around the tree. I was a little shocked, but I had the presence of mind to make sure that Shana was laughing hysterically because of the shock and not crying hysterically because she was hurt, and then I opened the door (I couldn't remember how to roll down the window) and yelled out that we were ok.
The patron saint and guardian angel of silly girls was working hard last night, and for that, I'm VERY grateful.
Yesterday morning at the airport, I got an e-mail from Shana inviting me to dinner at her place. Shana's one of my favorite people at the office, and I almost never get homecooked meals when I'm on the road, so I immediately accepted her kind offer.
After work, we drove through pouring thunderstorms to the grocery store to pick up dinner fixings. We both commented on the habit of drivers in the DC area of avoiding hurting the raindrops. We dilly-dallied at the grocery store because it was fun (and because I'm staying at a suites hotel, I got a couple of healthier things to keep in the fridge/freezer), and then headed to her and Jeff's apartment.
Shana called Jeff as we neared the apartment to ask him to come down and help us with groceries. He was already downstairs and waiting for us, and all three of us were laughing about it. Shana and Jeff hung up their cell phones, then there was a crack, Jeff screamed, and a massive tree branch hit Shana's car.
Yes, you read that correctly. A massive tree branch hit Shana's car. How massive? The diameter of the branch was 6 inches. Miraculously, the only damage done to the car was that a little over a third of the driver's side mirror shattered and disappeared.
I don't use the word "miraculously" lightly here. Shana drives a convertible. I think it helped tremendously that it's a hardtop (the very cute Pontiac Solstice), even though Jeff read that Consumer Reports says that a hardtop won't help in a serious accident.
Jeff was freaked out because he was outside and saw the massive tree branch drop (Shana wants to call the branch "Ed," but Jeff and I prefer "Beelzebub"). Shana didn't hear the crack or Jeff's shout -- all she heard was the huge thunk on the roof of the car right above our heads. I ducked and covered, not that it would have helped if the roof had caved.
I took video of it with my Flip. You're not going to believe how big this branch was.
What was equally amazing was watching the apartment complex maintenance guys take the branch apart and haul it away. They started with clippers and took off the smaller branches. Then they broke out the chainsaw. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to grab the Flip, because it was a sight to see. They had the whole thing cleared away in 30 minutes. Except for a few wood shavings and a couple of leaves on the ground, you'd never know that there was a near catastrophe.
Shana tested the top on the convertible to make sure it worked right, and it does. The roof and hood were wet, so we couldn't tell for sure, but it really seems like there aren't even any scratches on the car. We're going to check later today in the dark, but dry, parking garage.
We talked a lot about how many things have to happen at precise moments for you to be in a place where a tree branch can fall on the car. If it hadn't been raining, the top would have been down, but if if hadn't been raining, we would have gotten to the store and home sooner, and the tree's leaves wouldn't be saturated with water. If we hadn't played so long at the store, it would have been a near miss rather than a hit. A few more seconds, and instead of Jeff being well out of the danger zone, he might have been right in it without the protection of a car.
I'll never forget the look on Jeff's face as he frantically looked for a way around the tree. I was a little shocked, but I had the presence of mind to make sure that Shana was laughing hysterically because of the shock and not crying hysterically because she was hurt, and then I opened the door (I couldn't remember how to roll down the window) and yelled out that we were ok.
The patron saint and guardian angel of silly girls was working hard last night, and for that, I'm VERY grateful.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Fun Weekend!
I didn't have any specific plans this weekend, aside from test driving a Mini Cooper convertible. I LOVED driving it. It's close the ground, so you really feel like you're part of the car, and because it's so small, it's really zippy. I would love to own one, but it's completely impractical. My car is small, but the Cooper convertible is TINY. The space between the backseat and the front seat is literally a couple of inches. And the trunk is only about 4 cubic feet. That's ok, but the way it's configured, there isn't any room for my smallest suitcase. The backseats can be folded down and secured, which increases the trunk space to about 21 cubic feet. The trunk is where they put the CD-changer and MP3 player, so you don't even get to use the full 4 cubic feet. I sort of feel like Mini would have been smarter to make the Cooper convertible a two-seater and done something more practical with the trunk, because all of that space is just wasted.
After the test drive, I went to visit Jennifer and Mark and Natalie. Natalie has started talking, and it's so much fun! She's so cute and so verbal, and she's stringing her words together into sentences. She's still a thrill-seeker, so you can still make her laugh by throwing her in the air or by chasing her or by lying in wait and yelling "BOO!" at her. Good times! Jennifer is very pregnant, and she and Mark are frantically trying to get some stuff done on the house before the baby comes. Selfishly, I hope she has the baby while I'm in town, but man, she's ready to stop being pregnant. And it's really hot outside, so I know she's horribly uncomfortable.
My sister came into town to pick up some more clothes, and we did a little light shopping. I took her to Academy for some new running shoes (I got some new "athletic" slides), and then we went to Best Buy and World Market. I always forget how much I love World Market until I get there. I managed to limit myself to some potato chips and Botan rice candy (YAY!!).
At Best Buy, I bought a USB hub. Why do I need a USB hub? TO PLAY ROCK BAND! After we got home from dinner, I made Judy play with me, and she did not regret it. She was doubtful at first, and then we started to play, and she's a huge Rock Band fan now, too. We even tried doing a song at Medium skill. So fun! We played until 1am. Oops.
The next morning, I meant to get up at 8:30 so we could go for a walk at Memorial Park. That happened, except that I hit snooze and then slept until 11:30. We decided to walk to Discovery Green and then around Minute Maid. So we got 45 minutes in, which is all I was really looking for. I have to start somewhere!!
I made lunch, and then Judy packed up and left. And I have been doing pretty much nothing ever since. Good weekend!
After the test drive, I went to visit Jennifer and Mark and Natalie. Natalie has started talking, and it's so much fun! She's so cute and so verbal, and she's stringing her words together into sentences. She's still a thrill-seeker, so you can still make her laugh by throwing her in the air or by chasing her or by lying in wait and yelling "BOO!" at her. Good times! Jennifer is very pregnant, and she and Mark are frantically trying to get some stuff done on the house before the baby comes. Selfishly, I hope she has the baby while I'm in town, but man, she's ready to stop being pregnant. And it's really hot outside, so I know she's horribly uncomfortable.
My sister came into town to pick up some more clothes, and we did a little light shopping. I took her to Academy for some new running shoes (I got some new "athletic" slides), and then we went to Best Buy and World Market. I always forget how much I love World Market until I get there. I managed to limit myself to some potato chips and Botan rice candy (YAY!!).
At Best Buy, I bought a USB hub. Why do I need a USB hub? TO PLAY ROCK BAND! After we got home from dinner, I made Judy play with me, and she did not regret it. She was doubtful at first, and then we started to play, and she's a huge Rock Band fan now, too. We even tried doing a song at Medium skill. So fun! We played until 1am. Oops.
The next morning, I meant to get up at 8:30 so we could go for a walk at Memorial Park. That happened, except that I hit snooze and then slept until 11:30. We decided to walk to Discovery Green and then around Minute Maid. So we got 45 minutes in, which is all I was really looking for. I have to start somewhere!!
I made lunch, and then Judy packed up and left. And I have been doing pretty much nothing ever since. Good weekend!
Friday, June 20, 2008
Diet & Exercise
So for whatever reason, I had a really bad holiday season this past winter when it comes to food. I was eating a lot more than I usually do, and I wasn't really editing what I eat, and I am paying the price. All my clothes are tight and don't look right.
I've been trying to watch what I eat. I'm not necessarily dieting, but I'm trying to pay attention to nutrition and eat more vegetables and less crap. I copied Lindy's chicken and olive dish relatively successfully, and I've been eating a lot of fish and vegetables over the past week. The nutrition and vegetables are going pretty well. I've noticed something else, though, which is that I'm ok eating like a reasonable adult during the day, but when it's late at night, I want a snack. I've tried delaying dinner, but it doesn't seem to make a difference. And because I have no will power, I end up eating something I shouldn't, like a peanut butter sandwich or a bowl of cereal.
I suppose one solution is just going to bed at a reasonable hour like a normal person, but that's hard for me, especially when there are quality movies like Starship Troopers on tv, which is what I have going in the background right this very minute. Even with TiVo, I get sucked into this crap as it's broadcast.
I don't have this problem when I'm not at home. When I'm on the road, I probably don't eat as healthfully, but I also don't want a snack right before bed. I also watch a LOT less television when I'm traveling. It's not that I'm necessarily working all the time, either. I think I end up reading more, or I'm visiting with local friends whom I don't usually get to see. Apparently, there's a lot of inertia at home.
Shana and I are going to try to keep each other honest. I told her that I think she has a harder job than I do, but she claims that without a wedding as a goal, my job will be equally hard. I might try to restart "Ye Olde Foode Confessione" with Jennifer and Vera, too.
I really wish I like working out, but I don't. I was doing well with it last year for a while. I'd go for a walk in Memorial Park on Sunday, and then I'd only have to make myself get to the hotel gym for half an hour twice during the week. I stopped because my shoes were bad and killing me. I'm kind of bitter about that, actually, because I bought them in Portland at a specialty running store, and they made me live through the trauma of VIDEOTAPING MY GAIT, and then WATCHING IT. And after all that, my shoes still hurt me! GRRRRR!
Anyhoodle, I have a new pair of shoes, so I'm going to try to start back up. My friend Carrie is going to run a marathon in Baltimore on a weekend that follows a week when I have to be in DC. Kris will run 3 miles with Carrie as encouragement, so my big, fat, training goal is to be able to run 3 miles with Carrie as well. Carrie said she's not trying to set a PR (personal record), so it's ok if I'm slow. She's trying to check another state off of her list. Yes, Carrie is crazy. She's trying to run a marathon in all 50 states. I'd be really happy if I could just run 3 miles without stopping to walk.
(You guys -- Starship Troopers is really awesome. It's so totally over the top!!! I have to hide my eyes at some of the gross parts, but it's truly spectacular.)
So the very slow working up to being able to run is starting again. I don't understand how it can already be near the end of June without even trying, but 30 minutes on the treadmill feels like an eternity. God help me, but the time seems to go faster if "Two and a Half Men" is on. I'm so ashamed, because that show is NOT GOOD. And at the same time, it makes me laugh. It's so guilty a guilty pleasure that I won't even record it. Humiliating.
That's it really. Trying to eat right and exercise more. This means that if you see me, you should snatch the ice cream cone out of my hands.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
AM I CRAZY???
I'm thinking about buying a new car: Mini Cooper Convertible or Volkswagen EOS. I AM crazy.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Random, Barely Related Hodgepodge
Sorry it's been so long!!! I worked every single day during my 3-week stint in DC. So, so, so painful, but it paid off -- my meeting in Chicago scored a 3.91 out of 4, and everyone is happy.
I'm kind of irritated that my boss's boss still needs some sort of reassurance that I'm relatively good at my job. She forwarded me an e-mail that he forwarded to her and the head of the other team that I work with that contained the 3.91 and some personal scores. She was congratulating me, but I haven't trusted her for a long time. Back in August, she told me that there was no point in trying to take control of my career, and that not being anyone's priority is just a fact of corporate life. And that's fine, except that the company I work for has done research that shows that the high performing employees are the ones who should be getting the most attention and development both in terms of performance and career. I may be difficult to work with, I may have really high standards that are tough for the people around me to accept, and I may question your competency to do your job sometimes, but you know what? I'm definitely a high performing employee. This woman is a mediocre manager who absolutely does not tolerate anyone disagreeing with her. She's the reason people like C will always have jobs. C makes her look good in comparison.
My meeting earlier this week was in Chicago, and I got to eat at one of my favorite places. It's called FoodLife, and it's in the Water Tower mall. It's basically a food court, but the food is extremely fresh and totally delicious. AND you can buy 99-cent bags of Bit O'Honey by the cashier. It seriously just doesn't get any better than that!!
Anyone who tells you that Chicago isn't hot is full of it. We had four people plus a driver crammed into a Chicago taxi, and the A/C was on, but was not reaching us in the back seat. We all roasted for an hour. I'd forgotten what it's like to be so hot that even being in air-conditioning for several hours doesn't cool you down. I had the option to come home 2 hours earlier, but only if I flew in a middle seat. I was too hot to fly in a middle seat. I normally freeze on planes, but on my flight from Chicago, I had the air blasting on me and only turned it down about an hour into the flight. And I didn't put my sweater on at all.
It's so nice to be home, but I don't understand how my apartment can get so messy so quickly. I'm just one person. Where did all of this STUFF come from??? And why do I not have any place to put it all in this enormous apartment??? More evidence that I'm not a responsible adult and probably won't be one for a while.
I tried a new drink today that was horribly disappointing: Vitamin Water Energy. I like Vitamin Water, although it's a little too sweet (and yes, I understand that the different formulations are just clever marketing), and I like caffeine (can't live without it, really), so I thought that Vitamin Water Energy would be magical. First of all, it's fizzy. Now, that's ok, because I like sparkling water, but plain old Vitamin Water isn't fizzy, so that was unexpected. And then I tasted it, and it was bad. I took two sips and dumped the rest in the sink. I don't know where they get off pretending that thing is healthy. It's like a fully-sugared soda that's had a Flintstones vitamin dissolved in it. Luckily, the can I had was free.
DirecTV is doing a special promotion this weekend where ALL of the premium movie channels are free. I went through all of them and only found 4 things to Tivo. FOUR. You'd think that some effort would be made to bring the A-game during a weekend when they're trying to hook new customers. Apparently not.
I'm going to take this whole weekend off -- luxury!! I'm going to see Sex and the City on Saturday and the Astros vs. the Yankees on Sunday. And hopefully I'm going to get my stupid apartment cleaned up. Maybe this week I'll actually cook myself some real dinner!! My friend Lindy cooks most nights, and she and her husband both work, and they have an 18-month-old son. I invited myself over to their house for dinner earlier this week (I was getting my hair cut and nails painted in her neighborhood), and she had dinner on the table in no time flat, and it was delicious and nutritious. On the one hand, I felt completely incompetent, but on the other hand, it was inspirational. I'm a little scared that I've forgotten how to cook.
That's it for now. Enough randomness. Here's the travel update through the end of August:
June 23-26: DC
July 2-5: Chicago (more on this in a later entry)
July 8-11: DC
July 21-25: DC
August 4-5: NYC
August 7-18: Australia (that's right -- Australia)
August 18-21: DC
Peace out, dudes.
I'm kind of irritated that my boss's boss still needs some sort of reassurance that I'm relatively good at my job. She forwarded me an e-mail that he forwarded to her and the head of the other team that I work with that contained the 3.91 and some personal scores. She was congratulating me, but I haven't trusted her for a long time. Back in August, she told me that there was no point in trying to take control of my career, and that not being anyone's priority is just a fact of corporate life. And that's fine, except that the company I work for has done research that shows that the high performing employees are the ones who should be getting the most attention and development both in terms of performance and career. I may be difficult to work with, I may have really high standards that are tough for the people around me to accept, and I may question your competency to do your job sometimes, but you know what? I'm definitely a high performing employee. This woman is a mediocre manager who absolutely does not tolerate anyone disagreeing with her. She's the reason people like C will always have jobs. C makes her look good in comparison.
My meeting earlier this week was in Chicago, and I got to eat at one of my favorite places. It's called FoodLife, and it's in the Water Tower mall. It's basically a food court, but the food is extremely fresh and totally delicious. AND you can buy 99-cent bags of Bit O'Honey by the cashier. It seriously just doesn't get any better than that!!
Anyone who tells you that Chicago isn't hot is full of it. We had four people plus a driver crammed into a Chicago taxi, and the A/C was on, but was not reaching us in the back seat. We all roasted for an hour. I'd forgotten what it's like to be so hot that even being in air-conditioning for several hours doesn't cool you down. I had the option to come home 2 hours earlier, but only if I flew in a middle seat. I was too hot to fly in a middle seat. I normally freeze on planes, but on my flight from Chicago, I had the air blasting on me and only turned it down about an hour into the flight. And I didn't put my sweater on at all.
It's so nice to be home, but I don't understand how my apartment can get so messy so quickly. I'm just one person. Where did all of this STUFF come from??? And why do I not have any place to put it all in this enormous apartment??? More evidence that I'm not a responsible adult and probably won't be one for a while.
I tried a new drink today that was horribly disappointing: Vitamin Water Energy. I like Vitamin Water, although it's a little too sweet (and yes, I understand that the different formulations are just clever marketing), and I like caffeine (can't live without it, really), so I thought that Vitamin Water Energy would be magical. First of all, it's fizzy. Now, that's ok, because I like sparkling water, but plain old Vitamin Water isn't fizzy, so that was unexpected. And then I tasted it, and it was bad. I took two sips and dumped the rest in the sink. I don't know where they get off pretending that thing is healthy. It's like a fully-sugared soda that's had a Flintstones vitamin dissolved in it. Luckily, the can I had was free.
DirecTV is doing a special promotion this weekend where ALL of the premium movie channels are free. I went through all of them and only found 4 things to Tivo. FOUR. You'd think that some effort would be made to bring the A-game during a weekend when they're trying to hook new customers. Apparently not.
I'm going to take this whole weekend off -- luxury!! I'm going to see Sex and the City on Saturday and the Astros vs. the Yankees on Sunday. And hopefully I'm going to get my stupid apartment cleaned up. Maybe this week I'll actually cook myself some real dinner!! My friend Lindy cooks most nights, and she and her husband both work, and they have an 18-month-old son. I invited myself over to their house for dinner earlier this week (I was getting my hair cut and nails painted in her neighborhood), and she had dinner on the table in no time flat, and it was delicious and nutritious. On the one hand, I felt completely incompetent, but on the other hand, it was inspirational. I'm a little scared that I've forgotten how to cook.
That's it for now. Enough randomness. Here's the travel update through the end of August:
June 23-26: DC
July 2-5: Chicago (more on this in a later entry)
July 8-11: DC
July 21-25: DC
August 4-5: NYC
August 7-18: Australia (that's right -- Australia)
August 18-21: DC
Peace out, dudes.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Shocked
I just found out tonight that in addition to being a lazy credit-stealer, C may also be a liar. She got heaped with credit and praise from our shared manager and another senior manager in the department for something she allegedly wrote; it turns out that she only edited the work that someone else had already done. I used to be angry and bitter, but now I'm angry, bitter, and disgusted. I know it's wrong, but I want to see her fall.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
It's Weird Being an Adult
One of the benefits of being in DC for as long as I am is that I got to join a mini-family reunion. My cousin Yoon-ji graduated from a residential high school in Warrenton, so her mom flew in from Korea, and my mom flew in from Dallas. We all had dinner at my (2nd) cousin Susan's house, where we were joined by Susan's parents (they act as Yoon-ji's guardian in the US) and Susan's cousin (my second cousin) Joong-shik.
Before I go any further, are you keeping all these familial relationships straight? Here's a little key:
Mom (my mom, lives in Dallas)
Hyun-bin Emo (Emo is "aunt" in Korean; my mom's sister, lives in Seoul. Because she's my mom's sister, I generally just call her Emo, even when there are other Emos around.)
Yoon-ji (my first cousin, Hyun-bin's daughter, graduated high school on Thursday)
Yoon-hee Emo (my mom's cousin, lives in Ashburn. If she's the only Emo around, I just call her Emo, but if there are others, or if I'm referring to her in conversation, I'll call her Yoon-hee Emo.)
Emo-bu (literally translated -- "aunt's husband," Susan's dad. I just realized that I don't know what his name is. Seriously. I call him Emo-bu. I also call Yoon-ji's dad "Emo-bu," and if there are multiple emo-bus around, I'll say "Yoon-hee Emo-bu" for Susan's dad, and "Hyun-bin Emo-bu" for Yoon-ji's dad. Wow. If you're not Korean, this is confusing, right?)
Susan (my second cousin, Yoon-hee Emo's daughter, lives in Reston, referred me to the firm)
Michael (Susan's husband)
Joong-shik (my second cousin; his mom is Yoon-hee Emo's older sister, lives here, works for the IMF)
Ok, now that we have that straight, you basically have a list of everyone who met up for dinner at Susan's house to celebrate Yoon-ji's graduation. We had a GREAT time. Emo bought some delicious food so nobody would have to cook, and we stuffed ourselves. We also got to see pictures from Susan and Michael's trip to Korea and the Phillipines (Michael is Filipino-American). Looks like a whirlwind and some serious WORK, but it also seemed like they had a great time.
After dinner, Susan, Michael, Joong-shik, Yoon-ji, and I played Rock Band. And because the "kids" were having so much fun, my mom and Emo also played -- I couldn't believe it! But they had a go, and they had a great time. My mom was excited (and also a little jealous) when she found out that I had Rock Band at home. I played bass, and it was my first time using the guitar. I didn't realize that you had to strum the lever thing in the middle, so I got our band booed off stage a couple of times until Susan figured out what the problem was. The guitar is super fun, but I had carpal tunnel pangs in my forearm the next day.
After that, we karaoked. Of course. Yoon-hee Emo, Emo-bu, Joong-shik, Yoon-ji, and Susan sang Korean songs. Michael, Susan, and I sang American songs. My mom and Emo begged off, saying they can't sing. That's not really the point of karaoke, but they got away with it.
That was all Friday night, and on Saturday I had to work (I'm working today and tomorrow, too -- that meeting script won't write itself!!). I talked to my mom on Saturday night, and she told me that I work too much and she didn't want me working on the weekends. I had to remind her that before she retired, she had busy times at the bank when she had to bring work home or stay late. She conceded that when there's work to do, you have to do it, but it took that reminder for her to come around. It's the millionth time that I've gotten the impression from my parents that they don't really think of me as having a job. I mean, they know that I have a job and that I'm supporting myself somehow, but I don't think they realize how serious and real my job is. It's hilarious, but not at all in an insulting way.
I say not insulting because I kind of understand where she's coming from. I'm 35 years old and a fully-functioning and -contributing member of society, as are Susan, Michael, and Joong-shik, but we all definitely split along generational lines on Friday night. The "kids" played Rock Band while the "adults" watched. My mom and my aunts were trying to feed me dinner and dessert. My mom tried to send Susan up to bed for a nap (Susan is 8 months pregnant).
And really, I don't feel like an adult. I thought it would change when I got a real job. It didn't. I thought it would change when I was paying all of my own bills. It didn't. Then I thought when I bought my first car I'd feel like an adult. Nope. Maybe buying a house will do it, but I don't think so -- Susan and Michael have a house and a baby on the way, and they were in the playpen with the rest of us kids. We'll see how things shift once Susan's baby is born.
Before I go any further, are you keeping all these familial relationships straight? Here's a little key:
Mom (my mom, lives in Dallas)
Hyun-bin Emo (Emo is "aunt" in Korean; my mom's sister, lives in Seoul. Because she's my mom's sister, I generally just call her Emo, even when there are other Emos around.)
Yoon-ji (my first cousin, Hyun-bin's daughter, graduated high school on Thursday)
Yoon-hee Emo (my mom's cousin, lives in Ashburn. If she's the only Emo around, I just call her Emo, but if there are others, or if I'm referring to her in conversation, I'll call her Yoon-hee Emo.)
Emo-bu (literally translated -- "aunt's husband," Susan's dad. I just realized that I don't know what his name is. Seriously. I call him Emo-bu. I also call Yoon-ji's dad "Emo-bu," and if there are multiple emo-bus around, I'll say "Yoon-hee Emo-bu" for Susan's dad, and "Hyun-bin Emo-bu" for Yoon-ji's dad. Wow. If you're not Korean, this is confusing, right?)
Susan (my second cousin, Yoon-hee Emo's daughter, lives in Reston, referred me to the firm)
Michael (Susan's husband)
Joong-shik (my second cousin; his mom is Yoon-hee Emo's older sister, lives here, works for the IMF)
Ok, now that we have that straight, you basically have a list of everyone who met up for dinner at Susan's house to celebrate Yoon-ji's graduation. We had a GREAT time. Emo bought some delicious food so nobody would have to cook, and we stuffed ourselves. We also got to see pictures from Susan and Michael's trip to Korea and the Phillipines (Michael is Filipino-American). Looks like a whirlwind and some serious WORK, but it also seemed like they had a great time.
After dinner, Susan, Michael, Joong-shik, Yoon-ji, and I played Rock Band. And because the "kids" were having so much fun, my mom and Emo also played -- I couldn't believe it! But they had a go, and they had a great time. My mom was excited (and also a little jealous) when she found out that I had Rock Band at home. I played bass, and it was my first time using the guitar. I didn't realize that you had to strum the lever thing in the middle, so I got our band booed off stage a couple of times until Susan figured out what the problem was. The guitar is super fun, but I had carpal tunnel pangs in my forearm the next day.
After that, we karaoked. Of course. Yoon-hee Emo, Emo-bu, Joong-shik, Yoon-ji, and Susan sang Korean songs. Michael, Susan, and I sang American songs. My mom and Emo begged off, saying they can't sing. That's not really the point of karaoke, but they got away with it.
That was all Friday night, and on Saturday I had to work (I'm working today and tomorrow, too -- that meeting script won't write itself!!). I talked to my mom on Saturday night, and she told me that I work too much and she didn't want me working on the weekends. I had to remind her that before she retired, she had busy times at the bank when she had to bring work home or stay late. She conceded that when there's work to do, you have to do it, but it took that reminder for her to come around. It's the millionth time that I've gotten the impression from my parents that they don't really think of me as having a job. I mean, they know that I have a job and that I'm supporting myself somehow, but I don't think they realize how serious and real my job is. It's hilarious, but not at all in an insulting way.
I say not insulting because I kind of understand where she's coming from. I'm 35 years old and a fully-functioning and -contributing member of society, as are Susan, Michael, and Joong-shik, but we all definitely split along generational lines on Friday night. The "kids" played Rock Band while the "adults" watched. My mom and my aunts were trying to feed me dinner and dessert. My mom tried to send Susan up to bed for a nap (Susan is 8 months pregnant).
And really, I don't feel like an adult. I thought it would change when I got a real job. It didn't. I thought it would change when I was paying all of my own bills. It didn't. Then I thought when I bought my first car I'd feel like an adult. Nope. Maybe buying a house will do it, but I don't think so -- Susan and Michael have a house and a baby on the way, and they were in the playpen with the rest of us kids. We'll see how things shift once Susan's baby is born.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Travel Update
Wow -- sorry about that. I forgot that I hadn't posted where I'm supposed to be in a while.
May 18-June 6: DC (yes, including weekends. I'm trying to be zen about it.)
June 11-June 12: Chicago
I have to be back in DC for part of June, but I'm not sure yet when.
The company gave me a "new" laptop. "New" is in quotation marks, because the laptop belonged to someone else at the company who recently resigned and turned in his laptop. The reason they did that instead of sending me a new (no quotation marks) laptop is because they don't have any. One of my colleagues has been using a loaner laptop for 2 months. Please explain to me how difficult it is to call Dell's 800 number and order 100 laptops. What is the firm doing with all the cash they're sitting on???
The "new" laptop works great, except for the part where I don't have administrator access, so I can't install new hardware or software. And before you start casting aspersions on my character and make any allegations about the types of things the company suspects of me of wanting to download, this means that I can't add my printer. For some reason, clicking certain links doesn't do anything, either, and again, before you get all suspicious, I had to do some research for work on Fidelity.com, and I couldn't get most of the links to work. REALLY ANNOYING. But at least I have a work computer again, which I guess is the main thing, and the IT guy said he'd give me administrator access this week.
My car is finally working and back in my possession again, just in time for me to go out of town for 3 weeks. AND the dealership had to cover it under warranty because it's totally a drive train issue. It was comical how unhappy they were about it. What's also fabulous is that, in the process of looking for screen protectors for my new phone (yes, I got a new phone -- I couldn't handle that little flip phone any longer), I FOUND THE PAPERWORK FOR MY EXTENDED WARRANTY. According to that paperwork, none of the work I've had done this year should have been paid for out of my bank account. Not sure how or where to start the fight to get my money back, but I'm definitely going to try.
I'm in corporate housing while in DC, and it doesn't suck. It would be a lot better if the carpet weren't so old, but it's clean and has the essentials, including, regrettably, noisy neighbors. I'm not sure about the kitchen, not because it isn't clean, but because it's weird cooking in a foreign kitchen. It probably doesn't matter because I don't think that I'll have a lot of time for actual cooking. I also don't know if it's worth it when I'm going to have to buy dishwashing detergent. I really hope I remember to buy toilet paper.
I also need to go buy some dress pants and a couple of sweater sets. I stupidly did not pack enough "smart business casual" clothing. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't believe I'm this unexcited at the prospect of shopping.
May 18-June 6: DC (yes, including weekends. I'm trying to be zen about it.)
June 11-June 12: Chicago
I have to be back in DC for part of June, but I'm not sure yet when.
The company gave me a "new" laptop. "New" is in quotation marks, because the laptop belonged to someone else at the company who recently resigned and turned in his laptop. The reason they did that instead of sending me a new (no quotation marks) laptop is because they don't have any. One of my colleagues has been using a loaner laptop for 2 months. Please explain to me how difficult it is to call Dell's 800 number and order 100 laptops. What is the firm doing with all the cash they're sitting on???
The "new" laptop works great, except for the part where I don't have administrator access, so I can't install new hardware or software. And before you start casting aspersions on my character and make any allegations about the types of things the company suspects of me of wanting to download, this means that I can't add my printer. For some reason, clicking certain links doesn't do anything, either, and again, before you get all suspicious, I had to do some research for work on Fidelity.com, and I couldn't get most of the links to work. REALLY ANNOYING. But at least I have a work computer again, which I guess is the main thing, and the IT guy said he'd give me administrator access this week.
My car is finally working and back in my possession again, just in time for me to go out of town for 3 weeks. AND the dealership had to cover it under warranty because it's totally a drive train issue. It was comical how unhappy they were about it. What's also fabulous is that, in the process of looking for screen protectors for my new phone (yes, I got a new phone -- I couldn't handle that little flip phone any longer), I FOUND THE PAPERWORK FOR MY EXTENDED WARRANTY. According to that paperwork, none of the work I've had done this year should have been paid for out of my bank account. Not sure how or where to start the fight to get my money back, but I'm definitely going to try.
I'm in corporate housing while in DC, and it doesn't suck. It would be a lot better if the carpet weren't so old, but it's clean and has the essentials, including, regrettably, noisy neighbors. I'm not sure about the kitchen, not because it isn't clean, but because it's weird cooking in a foreign kitchen. It probably doesn't matter because I don't think that I'll have a lot of time for actual cooking. I also don't know if it's worth it when I'm going to have to buy dishwashing detergent. I really hope I remember to buy toilet paper.
I also need to go buy some dress pants and a couple of sweater sets. I stupidly did not pack enough "smart business casual" clothing. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't believe I'm this unexcited at the prospect of shopping.
Monday, May 12, 2008
DEPENDENCE SUCKS
In the space of a couple of weeks, the transmission in my car has started doing weird things, my BlackBerry can't hold a signal, and my laptop has refused to start up (I had to FedEx it to my office today in the hopes that they can fix it tomorrow and FedEx it back for Wednesday morning delivery).
Without my Mac and my bicycle (and the car I rented), I'd be trapped in my apartment with no contact with the outside world. It's like the Apocalypse!!
Friday, May 2, 2008
I am a total nerd
Here's one for the category of "everything happens for a reason." Yesterday, I left the office at 6pm for my 7:30pm flight out of DCA. The new office in Rosslyn is only about 15 minutes away from the airport, so that's a little on the early side, but I'd left my jacket at the salad place earlier in the day when I went for a little snack, and I had to grab that. I caught a taxi at 6:10, thinking I'd have time to get a sandwich or something to supplement whatever snack they served on the plane.
I didn't notice that the cab was a DC cab, and I don't know if that even played a part in it, but when the road forked, instead of taking the GW Parkway, the cab driver decided to take the Roosevelt Bridge into DC. (DC cabs aren't allowed to pick up AND drop off fares in Virginia, so this might have been a way for him to bend the rules instead of breaking them.) What my taxi driver forgot was that because of rush hour, all of the roads and exits that he wanted to take were closed.
We ended up driving past the Kennedy Center, being forced onto Rock Creek Parkway, and exiting Massachusetts Avenue and driving through Dupont. We drove past the old building at 2000 Penn, and then took 17th Street all the way down to whatever street goes past the Jefferson Memorial and then took 395 to the GW Parkway exit to go to the airport. Yes, the same GW Parkway he had rejected 25 minutes earlier.
He finally got me to the airport at 6:40, and because he was so frustrated and tense during the drive, I didn't say anything to him about my frustration and tension. He apologized when we got there and only charged me what it would have cost to take the direct route.
That's good fun in and of itself, but for me, it got better. I got my boarding pass and went to the security line, where I used my FlyClear card for the first time. FlyClear allows me to go to a special line where I can go faster than the regular line or even the frequent flyer line. What I didn't realize is that once I get my fingerprint scanned, one of the FlyClear employees will cut me into the regular line, give my boarding pass and license to get checked by TSA, and while that's happening, get my bins set up for me so I can cut into the x-ray line as well. It's AWESOME!
This is the best part, though. Because I was running a little late, I jumped on the moving sidewalk to the Continental gates, and I noticed that a gentleman who looked a lot like Larry Kellner, the Chairman and CEO of Continental Airlines, was on the moving sidewalk going the opposite direction. His head was down, and he looked kind of tired, so I couldn't tell for sure. I noted he was wearing a Continental employee badge around his neck, and as I got closer, I saw that the first name said "Larry." So as the sidewalk moved me away, over my shoulder I yelled out, "Thank you for not merging with United!" His head popped up, it was DEFINITELY Larry Kellner, and he started laughing and yelled back, "Thank you for your business."
It totally made my evening. And that's reason number 4,578,932 that I am a nerd.
I didn't notice that the cab was a DC cab, and I don't know if that even played a part in it, but when the road forked, instead of taking the GW Parkway, the cab driver decided to take the Roosevelt Bridge into DC. (DC cabs aren't allowed to pick up AND drop off fares in Virginia, so this might have been a way for him to bend the rules instead of breaking them.) What my taxi driver forgot was that because of rush hour, all of the roads and exits that he wanted to take were closed.
We ended up driving past the Kennedy Center, being forced onto Rock Creek Parkway, and exiting Massachusetts Avenue and driving through Dupont. We drove past the old building at 2000 Penn, and then took 17th Street all the way down to whatever street goes past the Jefferson Memorial and then took 395 to the GW Parkway exit to go to the airport. Yes, the same GW Parkway he had rejected 25 minutes earlier.
He finally got me to the airport at 6:40, and because he was so frustrated and tense during the drive, I didn't say anything to him about my frustration and tension. He apologized when we got there and only charged me what it would have cost to take the direct route.
That's good fun in and of itself, but for me, it got better. I got my boarding pass and went to the security line, where I used my FlyClear card for the first time. FlyClear allows me to go to a special line where I can go faster than the regular line or even the frequent flyer line. What I didn't realize is that once I get my fingerprint scanned, one of the FlyClear employees will cut me into the regular line, give my boarding pass and license to get checked by TSA, and while that's happening, get my bins set up for me so I can cut into the x-ray line as well. It's AWESOME!
This is the best part, though. Because I was running a little late, I jumped on the moving sidewalk to the Continental gates, and I noticed that a gentleman who looked a lot like Larry Kellner, the Chairman and CEO of Continental Airlines, was on the moving sidewalk going the opposite direction. His head was down, and he looked kind of tired, so I couldn't tell for sure. I noted he was wearing a Continental employee badge around his neck, and as I got closer, I saw that the first name said "Larry." So as the sidewalk moved me away, over my shoulder I yelled out, "Thank you for not merging with United!" His head popped up, it was DEFINITELY Larry Kellner, and he started laughing and yelled back, "Thank you for your business."
It totally made my evening. And that's reason number 4,578,932 that I am a nerd.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Continental Presidents Club v. Delta Crown Room
Presidents Club: three different kinds of cheese (cheddar, Monterey jack, and Rondele), assorted Pepperidge Farms crackers, breadsticks, and potato chips.
Crown Room: one kind of cheese (white cheddar), crackers with a bunch of seeds on them, hummus, Nutella (allergic to hazelnuts), and olives.
Advantage: Crown Room (come on -- olives and hummus!)
Presidents Club: complimentary coffee, tea, cocoa, soft drinks, and assorted alcoholic beverages.
Crown Room: complimentary coffee, tea, cocoa, powdered vanilla latte mix, soft drinks, and assorted alcoholic beverages.
Advantage: Crown Room
Presidents Club: free wi-fi
Crown Room: T-Mobile broadband internet service, $9.95/day
Advantage: Presidents Club
Presidents Club: cushy chairs
Crown Room: cushy chairs
Advantage: tie
Presidents Club: flat-screen tvs
Crown Room: flat-screen tvs
Advantage: tie
Presidents Club: 8-10 cubes with phone and internet connection
Crown Room: small cube farm
Advantage: Crown Room
When I walked in here to the Crown Room at Logan Airport in Terminal A, I had my doubts when I saw “Best Airport Lounge Award 2006, 2007” sign, but now I’m a believer.
I love Boston
I'm not sure why I love Boston so much, but I do. It helps that the times that I've been here, the weather has been spectacular, and I've never been here in the winter. It feels a little like Chicago in terms of neighborhoodiness, but the people here have a little more edge. I like it enough that I would even consider moving here if the right job presented itself.
I had coffee with a former colleague yesterday, and I don't know why, but I'm still surprised to find out from people who leave the firm just how much Kool-Aid they were only pretending to drink. It seems that there are many more gimlet- and clear-eyed people enmeshed throughout the company, who have all been beaten down for speaking truth to power. So we all stay quiet, which is a shame, because how awesome would it be for there to be a massive revolution? Alas, instead when you point out that the emperor has no clothes, you're told that you're not being a team player, or that you're being sharp-elbowed, or the worst, that you're not demonstrating leadership qualities. I love that last one, because I think (I hope, anyway) that at other publicly-traded companies, being open and honest and pointing out the pitfalls of a particular course of action is valued and rewarded. I guess it depends completely on who your manager is, and that's true everywhere. Until I figure out what I want to do next, I' m going to continue to pretend to drink the Kool-Aid, try not to point out when colleagues are incompetent and fail to add value, and keep my head down as much as possible.
I had coffee with a former colleague yesterday, and I don't know why, but I'm still surprised to find out from people who leave the firm just how much Kool-Aid they were only pretending to drink. It seems that there are many more gimlet- and clear-eyed people enmeshed throughout the company, who have all been beaten down for speaking truth to power. So we all stay quiet, which is a shame, because how awesome would it be for there to be a massive revolution? Alas, instead when you point out that the emperor has no clothes, you're told that you're not being a team player, or that you're being sharp-elbowed, or the worst, that you're not demonstrating leadership qualities. I love that last one, because I think (I hope, anyway) that at other publicly-traded companies, being open and honest and pointing out the pitfalls of a particular course of action is valued and rewarded. I guess it depends completely on who your manager is, and that's true everywhere. Until I figure out what I want to do next, I' m going to continue to pretend to drink the Kool-Aid, try not to point out when colleagues are incompetent and fail to add value, and keep my head down as much as possible.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Yucky Neighbors in Hartford
They turned on the television at 11:45pm. That was a HUGE signal to me that things were going to get really personal, and based on what I started to hear (and I'm trying desperately to block out the memory), I got my earplugs in just in the nick of time. I wish I'd had the cojones to set the alarm for 3:30am, but I didn't see any reason to punish myself. :) Earplugs RULE.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Mishmash
I have some pretty healthy self-esteem that I believe I've earned. I'm smart, I'm funny, I'm attractive, and doggone it, people like me. Match makes me feel ugly and awkward and uncomfortable in my own skin. I didn't fight my way through adolescence and my early 20s to feel like this again. And I'm tired of people saying that I have to give it a chance, and that I'm not being fair, and that this is the way that people meet in 2008. I hate it.
I read The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch on my flight from Cleveland to Hartford today (there are NO DIRECT FLIGHTS between Houston and Hartford -- unbelievable). If you haven't heard of it, it's a book based on what was literally the last lecture of Professor Randy Pausch at Carnegie Mellon University (if you click the link, it'll take you to the lecture's page on the Carnegie Mellon site, where you can find more links to the lecture on YouTube). Professor Pausch is dying of metastatic pancreatic cancer, and his last lecture on life lessons is amazing. The book doesn't have quite the same punch as his actual lecture did, but that didn't stop me from leaking tears for the entire flight. It makes me feel like I should be doing something more valuable with my life instead of earning a good living at a company that professes to help other companies get better. The Fortune 1000 doesn't need me.
I know that there are a lot of organizations with which I could volunteer, and maybe that would make me feel better. I'll look into it when I get home. Between The Last Lecture and The World Is Flat, it seems like there must be a way for me to make money and sell out to the man AND make the world a better place at the same time.
The people in the room next to mine here in Hartford are LOUD. Not like that! At least, not yet. I could hear every word of their conversation like they were having about their nephew and random other stuff. They've gone to dinner, so it's blessedly quiet, but I'm dreading when they come back drunk and amorous. EW EW EW EW.
I read an article in Forbes or Business Week on the flight from Houston to Cleveland on the glass ceiling in Korea, and how men there don't think women have the chops to work in the corporate world. I'm very glad to have been born and reared in the US, where my parents told me I was the smartest kid in the class and so had to work much, much harder. There was no question I could be whatever I wanted, as long as whatever I wanted was white collar.
Ok, enough with this random post. This is what happens when I write without really thinking it through. It's been a while, though, and I had some stuff bouncing around in my head that I needed to get out.
I'll keep you updated on the people next door. Ugh.
I read The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch on my flight from Cleveland to Hartford today (there are NO DIRECT FLIGHTS between Houston and Hartford -- unbelievable). If you haven't heard of it, it's a book based on what was literally the last lecture of Professor Randy Pausch at Carnegie Mellon University (if you click the link, it'll take you to the lecture's page on the Carnegie Mellon site, where you can find more links to the lecture on YouTube). Professor Pausch is dying of metastatic pancreatic cancer, and his last lecture on life lessons is amazing. The book doesn't have quite the same punch as his actual lecture did, but that didn't stop me from leaking tears for the entire flight. It makes me feel like I should be doing something more valuable with my life instead of earning a good living at a company that professes to help other companies get better. The Fortune 1000 doesn't need me.
I know that there are a lot of organizations with which I could volunteer, and maybe that would make me feel better. I'll look into it when I get home. Between The Last Lecture and The World Is Flat, it seems like there must be a way for me to make money and sell out to the man AND make the world a better place at the same time.
The people in the room next to mine here in Hartford are LOUD. Not like that! At least, not yet. I could hear every word of their conversation like they were having about their nephew and random other stuff. They've gone to dinner, so it's blessedly quiet, but I'm dreading when they come back drunk and amorous. EW EW EW EW.
I read an article in Forbes or Business Week on the flight from Houston to Cleveland on the glass ceiling in Korea, and how men there don't think women have the chops to work in the corporate world. I'm very glad to have been born and reared in the US, where my parents told me I was the smartest kid in the class and so had to work much, much harder. There was no question I could be whatever I wanted, as long as whatever I wanted was white collar.
Ok, enough with this random post. This is what happens when I write without really thinking it through. It's been a while, though, and I had some stuff bouncing around in my head that I needed to get out.
I'll keep you updated on the people next door. Ugh.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
How Last Night's Astros Game Made Me Want to Stay Single
MORE FREE TICKETS TO THE ASTROS!!! I love that my friends have awesome connections, and that they're willing to share the spoils of those connections with ME!
The Astros won last night, more due to the excellent fielding, I think, than a strong outing by Backe. I'm hoping he's just settling in, because he had so much going for him before he went out for Tommy John surgery. Also, the Marlins aren't that good, I don't think.
Anyway, Carrie and I were sitting next to two, young, married couples. The wives were very pretty and teachers. Who knows what the hell the husbands did. The guys sat together, and while one was just a normal guy, the other one was a COMPLETE ASS. He didn't shut up the whole game and constantly bumped Carrie throughout. He was verbally abusive to his wife and cheered for the Astros in really wrong, negative way. He nearly kicked the head of the 2-year-old in front of him. And after 3 and a half hours of sitting next to this douchebag, I nearly took my profile off of Match.
What is wrong with women that they put up with that kind of crap? He was SO disrespectful to his wife, in front of their friends and everyone else sitting near them at the game. And she just sat there and took it. She wasn't happy about it, but she didn't do anything. WTF???
I've had my differences with my parents, but I'm so grateful to them for rearing me to have a spine. I'm not settling for a jackass like that, and I've decided that despite my misgivings about having children, I kind of need to have them to make up for his horrific offspring. I know that sounds arrogant and gross, but seriously -- he and his wife have kids, and they're going to turn out just like them. We don't need more of that in the world.
Friday, April 11, 2008
I'm a Total Freak
No, I know -- this comes as a surprise to exactly ZERO of you. But I've discovered some additional things about myself as a result of being on Match.
From: Him
Date received: April 7
Subject: Hi
Whats up Hot mama? [Editor's Note: my screen name is literatechick. I don't know where this Hot mama crap is coming from.] I'm smarc and people say I look funny. [Editor’s Note: in my profile, I wrote that I’m looking for someone smart, funny, who can take care of himself, has whimsy in his heart, and is totally into me.] How long have you been a member and have you had any luck yet. This is my first time as a member so I'm a virgin so to speak. [Editor’s Note: I don’t like his turn of phrase here. We haven’t even met.]
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From: Me
Date sent: April 8
Subject: Re: Hi
Spelling and grammar are really important to me. I've been on Match for about a month. [Editor’s Note: not friendly, but also not unfriendly, considering it’s me.]
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From: Him
Date received: April 8
Subject: hello
I can't believe ya left me hanging like that. I'm upset with you. No, just kidding, write me back. [Editor’s Note: huh? Hanging like what? I answered his question.]
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From: Me
Date sent: April 8
Subject: Re: hello
I did write you back. I told you that spelling and grammar are important to me and that I've been on Match for about a month. [Editor's Note: I'd like credit for staying polite and neutral in tone.]
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From: Him
Date received: April 9
Subject: hi
you wrote me back when. Call me next time. I gave you my number didn't I. [Editor’s Note: (a) WTF? (b) no, you didn’t give me your number, and (c) give me a reason to call you. So far I don’t see one. Did you bother to read my profile at all??? It’s RICH with conversation bait.]
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From: Him
Date received: April 9
Subject: hello
Never heard from ya. Are you out of the market or what. looking forward to hearing from you. [Editor’s Note: I’m starting to think he’s got me mixed up with someone else or has taken that silly class on how to make women feel insecure so they will go out with you.]
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From: Me
Date sent: April 10
Subject: Re: hello
Please stop contacting me. [Editor’s Note: it’s all fun and games, but I’ve had enough. I didn’t see anything in his profile that I liked, and he’s clearly delusional. I thought my message was simple and to the point.]
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From: Him
Date sent: April 10
Subject: Re: Re: hello
I will respect your wishes, but is there some reason why? Could you please tell me. I mean did I say or do anything. I just want to know so I don't make the same mistake. [Editor’s Note: despite a lack of commas, this was actually a comprehensible e-mail that seemed to indicate he was actually reading MY e-mails. Too bad he sent the next two before I could respond.]
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From: Him
Date sent: April 10
Subject: ?
you're weird dude. no wonder you haven't had any luck. i starting to think you're some kind of scam artist. Well don't try that with me because like the song goes, I ain't never scared. [Editor’s Note: swinging here between reasonable human being and total poser. It doesn’t bode well. I wasn’t planning to respond anyway, but I almost responded to the next one.]
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From: Him
Date sent: April 10
Subject: Re: Re: hello
Fine, you're a freak anyways. [Editor’s Note: he’s right, I am a total freak, but not for the reasons he thinks. I opened this e-mail first, because it was the most recent one in my box, and nearly fell over laughing in the Presidents Club at O’Hare last night. He’s got some serious mood swing issues, but he’s really entertaining nevertheless. I’ll almost miss him.]
The last time I did online dating (about 4 years ago), I figured out that if a man could write e-mail using good grammar and punctuation, he could be completely insane in every other way, but he was in, and the good guy with bad grammar and punctuation was out. Maybe unfair, but that's the way it is, yo. And actually, it's not that unfair: at least people have control over that -- you don't have control over whether you're handsome or smart.
This time, I've figured out that if you tell me I'm pretty or cute or whatever or if you express what I consider to be inappropriate admiration of my skills or talents, I will be suspicious of you and move you down the list. If, on the other hand, you send me intelligent book recommendations? I'll probably show up at your house with a can of Reddi-wip and wearing nothing but a trench coat.
That's an exaggeration, obviously, but seriously -- I am a total freak. Online dating is starting to crack me up.
OH! There's also a guy who has been sending me unintelligible e-mails! I'll reproduce the e-mail chain below because it's THAT GOOD!!! I've diligently included all the typos. He writes a lot about how lucrative trading is and how rich he is. I've added my comments in bold.
From: Him
Date received: April 7
Subject: Hi
Whats up Hot mama? [Editor's Note: my screen name is literatechick. I don't know where this Hot mama crap is coming from.] I'm smarc and people say I look funny. [Editor’s Note: in my profile, I wrote that I’m looking for someone smart, funny, who can take care of himself, has whimsy in his heart, and is totally into me.] How long have you been a member and have you had any luck yet. This is my first time as a member so I'm a virgin so to speak. [Editor’s Note: I don’t like his turn of phrase here. We haven’t even met.]
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From: Me
Date sent: April 8
Subject: Re: Hi
Spelling and grammar are really important to me. I've been on Match for about a month. [Editor’s Note: not friendly, but also not unfriendly, considering it’s me.]
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From: Him
Date received: April 8
Subject: hello
I can't believe ya left me hanging like that. I'm upset with you. No, just kidding, write me back. [Editor’s Note: huh? Hanging like what? I answered his question.]
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From: Me
Date sent: April 8
Subject: Re: hello
I did write you back. I told you that spelling and grammar are important to me and that I've been on Match for about a month. [Editor's Note: I'd like credit for staying polite and neutral in tone.]
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From: Him
Date received: April 9
Subject: hi
you wrote me back when. Call me next time. I gave you my number didn't I. [Editor’s Note: (a) WTF? (b) no, you didn’t give me your number, and (c) give me a reason to call you. So far I don’t see one. Did you bother to read my profile at all??? It’s RICH with conversation bait.]
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From: Him
Date received: April 9
Subject: hello
Never heard from ya. Are you out of the market or what. looking forward to hearing from you. [Editor’s Note: I’m starting to think he’s got me mixed up with someone else or has taken that silly class on how to make women feel insecure so they will go out with you.]
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From: Me
Date sent: April 10
Subject: Re: hello
Please stop contacting me. [Editor’s Note: it’s all fun and games, but I’ve had enough. I didn’t see anything in his profile that I liked, and he’s clearly delusional. I thought my message was simple and to the point.]
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From: Him
Date sent: April 10
Subject: Re: Re: hello
I will respect your wishes, but is there some reason why? Could you please tell me. I mean did I say or do anything. I just want to know so I don't make the same mistake. [Editor’s Note: despite a lack of commas, this was actually a comprehensible e-mail that seemed to indicate he was actually reading MY e-mails. Too bad he sent the next two before I could respond.]
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From: Him
Date sent: April 10
Subject: ?
you're weird dude. no wonder you haven't had any luck. i starting to think you're some kind of scam artist. Well don't try that with me because like the song goes, I ain't never scared. [Editor’s Note: swinging here between reasonable human being and total poser. It doesn’t bode well. I wasn’t planning to respond anyway, but I almost responded to the next one.]
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From: Him
Date sent: April 10
Subject: Re: Re: hello
Fine, you're a freak anyways. [Editor’s Note: he’s right, I am a total freak, but not for the reasons he thinks. I opened this e-mail first, because it was the most recent one in my box, and nearly fell over laughing in the Presidents Club at O’Hare last night. He’s got some serious mood swing issues, but he’s really entertaining nevertheless. I’ll almost miss him.]
I'm going to keep and treasure those e-mails FOREVER. If he only knew how true his last e-mail was!!!
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