OakMonster’s Den

Brandon and I helped his 14-year-old niece Lauren escaped from Norco last Friday. (For those who don’t know, Norco is wayyy the heck out there in the Valley of the Dirt People, the 909, Riverside.) We’ve been getting her out of the hell hole at least once a month for the past few months because she really needs to get away from her house.

We had Brandon’s birthday bash on Sunday, and we were going to take her back that evening. But Lauren would’ve gone back to an empty house anyway since her mom, Brandon’s sister Stephanie, would be in San Diego with her boyfriend, besides we were dead tired from hosting the party, we decided to have her over until Wednesday.

Today’s Wednesday. Brandon’s wiped. So we are keeping Lauren with us until Friday now.

What has she been doing all day, you asked? She requires a beauty sleep of 12 hours. (I think I out-slept that as a teenager, competing with my dad to see who’d wake up later on Sundays.) She has the internet to play around with, a couple of PS2 games she wants to finish, and a thick book to read. Not to mention TV. We have food in the cabinet, and Mountain Dew in the fridge.

She’s 14, on a vacation from her Dr. Doolittle household, her little brother, her mom, and the 909. The girl can do whatever she wants here for the week. I’ve been coming home at lunch to make sure she has food. Yesterday she slept through the lunch break. Hehe. I’ll be taking her to have lunch with my friends at work tomorrow.

Today, with Brandon’s birthday money from his parents, we got to lavish Lauren with some new clothes (because we’re too lazy to do laundry), socks, and her summer reading book. Pretty much getting ready for high school freshman year this fall.

It’s the best thing in the world to see Lauren smile and have a good time. We hope we could motivate her enough. See, Lauren is a brilliantly smart kid. She has a love affair with books, and is probably one of the sweetest, wittiest, and probably oldest 14-year-old you’ll ever meet. Her parents are separated since last year, and that seems to hit Lauren the hardest. In her own word, she just stops caring about her grades. Why should she if nobody else care?

By getting her out here, we want to show her WE CARE. Care enough to let her escape, and help her with homework when she has them. I helped her with math once, and man was she thrilled when she got it!!

If we win the lottery tonight, we are so going to adopt her. Gods help me!

Another loooooooooong day today. There’s work (gag!) and then the side job. Brandon does the work of course, but I tagged along just in case he needed assistance as always. And of course, I also help with relieving the tension by just being there and socialize.

Matthew, an aspiring filmmaker, 17-year-old son of Debbie, was editing his new movie while we were working on the machines. It is called “Desert Road”. And the opening track is his antagonist singing along to “Highway to Hell” while driving through the desert–Debbie has a cabin in the middle of nowhere Yucca Valley, and that was the location for the short. Anyhoo. So now I can’t get the frelling song out of my head!!!

Instead of going to bed, what do I do? I’m here blogging. Well, I paid the bills and now I’m blogging. Talking about getting my priorities all screwed up. Heh.

Did I mention that we are going to Thailand in November? We are totally committed. We already bought the tickets. I’m super stoked! Hopefully we’ll get Brandon to all sort of places…we might even have to ship him off to do things if he doesn’t want to be in town too much.

It’s many months from now. And I’m counting the seconds…

I started something. I think it’s going to be a book. An autobiography of sort about my royal heritage.

You know I’m a princess, right? Well, not really. But genetically, I am related to all the Kings of Thailand of Chakri Dynasty dating back some 200 years. Not to mention I’m also a granddaughter of a major political figure and a famous army general.

My only royal trait: my feet. I have my grandmother’s feet. Apparently her father had the same too. I want to assume King Mongkut (the King portrayed in the King & I), my great-great grandfather, have the same feet…

It’s going to be a fun project. Debbie wants to see this as a base for a fiction. I personally want to write out the history.

It’s all started from me re-reading the family history project I turned in during my sophomore year. The report was sloppy, and a lot of things were left out. I wanted to write more about the history of my family and our ties to the country. I wanted to find out more about myself.

I think it’s the only way I could feel closer to my princess grandmother. It’s really weird that I’m really missing her these days. I never got to know her, and I never really grieved for her. I didn’t cry at her funeral. Or after that. But I bawled my head out a couple of nights ago because I dreamed about her.

Yeah. That must be it. My grandmother wants me to learn more about her. She’s inspiring me to write.

We shall see how this project turns out. Lord knows I’m no Virginia Woolf.

Yesterday I watched most of both memorial service for President Reagan in DC and the evening ceremony in Simi Valley. I’ve been tearing up all day starting from Margaret Thatcher’s speech. I actually shed some tears when President Bush choked up and when the bagpipe played “Amazing Grace”. I lost it completely when Nancy Reagan went up to say goodbye one last time.

It’s hard to imagine what she has been through all these years, watching her beloved husband drifted away. It’s even harder to imagine going through all of these emotional ordeal in the eyes of the whole world.

It’s really strange how I feel. I feel a loss. Something of a passage in time…coming of age almost.

Reagan was the first US president I’ve ever known, even before George Washington. Actually, he was one of the first American things I’ve known. The other two being Elvis and Mickey Mouse. I guess I feel like his passing is a sign of time. I really am no longer a kid.

Imagine this. The next generation will never know the fear that we’ve felt during the Cold War. Sure they have seen 9/11, but it wasn’t anything like knowing that not only buildings getting blown up but the whole world obliterated by only a push of a button. I guess our parents are saying the same thing about how they felt during WW II, that we did have it easy.

I’m an adult now. Or perhaps I just feel old. “Kids these days” seems to be the phrase permanently purging on the tip of my tongue. New Wave music which never appealed to me before has become my new favorite along side the 90s grunge since there is not much on today’s radio.

I’m just getting old. And Reagan’s death is a milestone for me. From this point onward I can no longer be “a kid”. I have to take responsibility for my own life now.

Well…

Let’s make the last act of being a kid be my using baby girl tactic to get my dad to buy my plane tickets to Thailand. Hehe. Then again, my parents are willing to spend that money to have me home. Eventually, I will NOT have them do that. But for now….

I promise myself to write more on the blog. But the thing is, there are SO much that I want to write, but I can’t possibly have all of that link back to me!!! Shit, man. This ain’t going to be as therapeutic as I thought. I should just stick with journal and a pen.

Actually, that is not a half bad idea!

I was going to wipe out the whole blog and start over since I saved the travel log from Thailand elsewhere. But you know what, screw it. Everyone makes mistakes. And once in a while you’ll have to remind yourself of the past so you won’t do it again.

Man I haven’t stayed up this late without any real purpose in a long time. But I happen to catch my friend Joy online. Joy’s back in Thailand, running family business, doing fabulously, and enjoying her married life. Her grandma died recently so I wouldn’t mind sacrificing some hours of sleep and some non productive, sleepy hours at work so I can keep her company. Lots of things to get off her chest, this one.

She’s about to give motherhood another try too. Last year, when she thought she was ready for a baby, it turned out she wasn’t. Once she started missing her period, she freaked out a bit. But it was a false alarm for everyone, and a wake up call for her to realize that she wasn’t ready for such responsibility yet.

I can’t imagine having a baby. Well, yeah I could. But not raising one. So much work. I don’t know if I have enough patience to handle a newborn and a husband all at the same time.

I’d rather prefer kittens