OakMonster’s Den

We had such a good time at work today! Once again, I ran the company potluck and this time it was the Endless Summer Potluck and Hawaiian Shirt Friday. To my amazement, most of the folks got into the spirit and donned their best Alohas.

One coworker brought in his Tiki wood totem for decoration and shared with me his Hawaiian music CD. I ripped the CD and put them on my Sensa MP3 player along with my choice picks of Jack Johnson, “Lime and the Coconut” song, Moby’s “Porcelain”, and Elvis Greatest Hits. It wouldn’t be a Hawaiian event without the King.

We feasted on Hawaiian BBQ chicken–the only one buy-in item for a handful who don’t cook or don’t want to bother–along with island macaroni salad, fruity salsa and colorful tortilla chips, meatballs in homemade teriyaki sauce, fantastic variety of homemade salads, sesame-pineapple rice, delicious crab rangoon that unfortunately was so much work to make that the lady who brought them may not make again (PLEASE God, make her change her mind!), Hawaiian sweet rolls, and a selection of lemonades and Hawaiian Punch.

My contribution to the potluck are jalapeno shrimps and spam skewers. And just like Elvis, it wouldn’t be a Hawaiian event without spam!

I cubed the low fat low sodium spam and browned them on a pan 2 nights ago. Last night I assembled my toothpick skewers with spam + cheddar cheese cube + green olive with pimento, spam + pineapple chunk + cheese, and spam + pineapple + olive.

Folks were amazed that I actually brought spam. They were even more amazed that they were addicted to my skewers. LOL.

Some people haven’t had spams in 10 years! How could you live without spam!! I mean, I didn’t grow up on it either but it grows on me. Especially spam musubi. Oh. My. God.

Ah. Crap. Now I want grilled spam on rice…

I will have some pictures up on Flickr next week.

P.S. Oh yeah. The 701 bus is right on schedule today by the way.

5:09 p.m. - I arrive at the bus stop. I spot my fellow bus rider, Bus Girl.

5:11 p.m. - Bus Buddy comes out of his building. He waves at me and continues to chat with his coworker.

5:20 p.m. - Bus Buddy comes over to sit with me after his friend got on her bus. It’s past 5:15. The bus is indeed late. But it’s been late like this before. So we continue to chat.

The MTA 460 Disneyland, the alternative bus to get us the closest to our area, comes and leaves. Bus Buddy starts to think that maybe he should’ve caught that one. But, nah. We have faith in the 701.

5:45 p.m. - Now this is getting unsual. The Bus Girl dials OCTA to ask what is going on. In the meantime, OCTA 721 Fullerton shows up. We all poke our heads in to ask the driver what was going on. The 701 is broken down, we are told. “They’re sending another one.”

Bus Girl is still on the phone, and the operator tells her “they’re TRYING to send another bus”. What does that mean? Is the bus on the way, or should we go take something else? No clear answer there. Some other fellow riders go off to catch the Blue Line. Bus Buddy says that the next MTA 460 is coming up in another 10 minutes. As Plan B, he offers to give everyone a ride back to Los Alamitos, where I parked my car, if we wanted to hop on the MTA 460. That sounds great.

6:00 p.m. - MTA 460 which runs every 30 minutes has not arrived. Plan C is quickly put into place. We all go down to Long Beach and Brandon will take us all back to Los Alamitos.

6:15 p.m. - Another call is placed to OCTA. We are informed that there is a 701 replacement bus coming in 10 minutes. I cancel Plan C with Brandon.

6:25 p.m. - We see another 720 bus coming around the corner and no sign of 701. The MTA 460 pulls up. We follow Bus Buddy onto the bus. Plan B is better than Plan A at this point.

6:40 p.m. - As our bus is on its way to the 110, the 721 catches up with us. I spotted Bill of the Bus on the other bus! Could the 721 be the 701 pick up? Will that bus get us home? We can all get off the 460 at the next stop and get on the 721 if that is the case because our bus is ahead. If we can get a hold of Bill of the Bus and confirm that that is the case.

Bill never answers the phone.

7:10 p.m. - We arrive at the end of the Green Line. Bus Buddy’s wife drive all of us back to Los Alamitos.

7:30 p.m. - I get in my car (Oh yeah I was late this morning so I had to drive to my bus stop. Sad, huh?) and head to Paul’s Place to pick up dinner and head home.

Continues from *Giggle*. A collection of giggly moments from the past few days.

Giggle #2

Eva: Have you heard about the possible rolling black out through LA today?

Me: Yeah. Well, maybe I should turn off my radio or something to help a little bit.

Eva: How about we just turn off our computers?

Giggle #3

Me: Celeste, would you like some almonds?

Celeste: No, thank you. I just don’t want the feeling of having something rolling around in my mouth right now.

Giggle #4

Celeste, Eva, and I went downstairs to get Starbucks. We came out of the elevator to find Nhien and 2 other tenants on our floor waiting outside. So, we said hi and told them we were going to get coffee as we walked by. Nhien said something to me so I turned my head to look at her, thinking she was getting on the elevator.

Not so. All 3 of them were just standing there, waiting for the elevator…just slightly to the side of the still open elevator we just came out of.

“What are you guys doing?” I called out. “The elevator’s right there.”

They all came to and got on the elevator.

Giggle #5

Eva: So Michael, what nationality are you?

Michael: I’m Mexican.

Eva: Really? What part of Mexico?

Michael: Texas.

Giggle #6

I realize that in my 20 minutes with my ophthalmologist, it was about 5 minutes of exam, 5 minutes of discussing my condition, and 10 minutes of USC football. Every time. My eyes are well taken care of AND we get to talk about our Trojans and the games and stuff. My insurance doesn’t cover going to see him, but I wouldn’t trust my eyes to anyone else. I [heart] Dr. Hertzog!

On that note, I’m happy to report the good news that I am allowed to wear contact lenses again. The bad news is that I can’t wear contact lenses everyday like I used to. So, yes. Wear them for a day. But not 2 days in a row. The good doctor said there are still some dryness at the bottom of the corneas which is probably not going to go away. But I’m in the best shape as I could be after entire eye ordeal. So, yey!

Giggle #7

Got tickets to go home on Cathay Pacific. Not cheap and not quite the schedule I was hoping for but it’s the only airlines with flights out of Bangkok in August. So, double yey!

Kids, I will be in Thailand from August 10 through August 19 (leaving on the 20th in the morning). I’m not expecting to do much, but at least one night out with my brothers and their girls and one day out with my girlfriends. The rest is up to mom.

Thank you so much for everyone’s well wishes and good thoughts! Make THAT Giggles #8.

Giggle #9

Shane came by to hang out yesterday and we all had a beer each. It’s been too long since we’ve done that.

*LATE ADDITION*

Giggle #10

Almost forgot about a comment from Chris “Rude Cactus”:

Hi. Can “That’s honked up, yo” be my new phrase? I really like it.

Lance Bass of `N Sync reveals he’s gay

I don’t know if this Volkswagen spot runs outside of Southern California. But there’s a series of a supposedly recorded real conversation between VW German Engineer and a car salesman while test driving some cars. So far we’ve heard something like, “This car is not fast. And it’s making me furious” and “Driving this car I feel like I’m being punished”.

But the end of this new one is this:

Car, honk if you suck.

*Honk*

And I giggle. Uncontrollably. Perhaps I truly lost my mind…

A few things that never fails to amaze me.

1. Los Angeles freeways at 9 a.m. on Sunday morning. Where did everybody go??

2. I was going 85 mph and was the slowest car on the road.

3. I could go 85 mph in Merlin, my 1996 Toyota Corolla, and he didn’t disintegrate.

4. “The Alchemist” has one thing right. When your heart desires something the most, the universe conspires to make sure you get there.

After having taken an email flogging from my home girls this past week, the universe is moving in my direction. See, Joy and Lily went to visit my mom last weekend, and all three of them urge that I drop everything and come home. Not for a week, but for a long time. And I have to fight with them on that.

I want to come home. I can come home for a short burst at a time. To stay and take care of my mom the way I’d rally want to do is not possible. It’s a difficult concept for the girls to understand in a sense that none of them would lose their way of life if they miss work for a month. Not the case here.

THAT alone frustrates and depresses me for the past week.

But, last night, my dad called and we had the family powwow over the phone. Well, one at a time with my dad then my brothers and Aunty Or, my mom’s best friend.

They all agree, it’s time for me to head home. Not because it’s the worst, but because mom is at her best shape since she began chemotherapy.

What do you mean “in her best shape”? Didn’t she have a stroke which left her paralyzed on her left side?

Well, best shape spirit-wise. According to Aunty Or and dad, they haven’t seen mom so lively since the whole cancer ordeal began a few years ago, and especially after she started chemo. They said she is at her very best despite the fact that her left side is paralyzed. My brother Onk may return to the US in the fall for a professional certificate. If that’s the case, then this would be a good time to have the entire family together.

It may be a very short trip, but it is needed.

I haven’t written an update about my mom because I wasn’t quite ready to do so and I didn’t feel like I had all the facts. But now I do.

Besides, the doctors are concerned about the future.

Mom is not cancer free and they can’t give her chemo anymore. When they stopped last time, there is a speck left of the cancer in her liver. At the moment, everything seems to be under control. But we don’t know what is going to happen next.

Another option in the back pocket is for her to take some kind of oral medication at a hefty $50 a pill a day, but it is not clear if that would work with her case. If the cancer spreads and the pills don’t work, mom will have about 6 months.

Good news. Bad news. No fucking kidding.

But nonetheless, I’ll be home in a few weeks for a speedy little visit. No, this is not a fun, party all the time visit I was hoping this would be, but it’s needed.

And the Universe says so. Especially this crazy humid-hot weather in California this past week, as it Mother Nature is helping me get acclimated to the ever so balmy 90F Bangkok. Heh.

Yes. I am a public transportation spoiled brat.

Is it so bad that I LOVE my express bus? One direct shot from Huntington Beach to Downtown Los Angeles and back. The plush-ish bus with friendly driver and decent human beings for passengers. People are friendly on the bus. Everyone seems to know everyone else. All the regulars, including myself, exchange phone numbers with each other just in case they’d need to hold the bus or to find out if the bus was late, etc.

Oh yes, indeed. I am so spoiled.

I guess when the monthly pass is $128 or $3.75 a ride with limited stop and route and the bus only runs 3 times a day, it does keep off the riffraffs.

Unlike the Blue Line.

Sure, most of my time spent on the Blue Line has been pleasant. The Downtown LA commuters getting on the train anywhere from 6 a.m. to 8 a.m. and back again from 5:00 p.m. - 7 p.m. are normal citizens most of the time.

It’s the off-commute time that the train gets a bit iffy. Okay. A LOT iffy. Like my shananigan a few weeks ago, that was around 9 a.m. And on my solo ride yesterday at 8 p.m. is the one to seal the deal.

I encountered a pervert.

It was a typical pre-board meeting late night Tuesday. Usually, there would be a chance that I could catch a ride back to the park-and-ride in Long Beach with Canadian Greg. But unfortunately, it wasn’t the case yesterday.

As always, I sat window seat with my nose in my book. One person sat next to me for some stops and left eventually. When we approached my stop, I put the book back in my backpack, and scooted out to the aisle. As I turned to get up, I saw the guy on the other side of the aisle shuffled in his seat, and unmistakenly closing and zipping up his pants.

…Uh…

And of course, I promptly got up and went to stand in the aisle along with other folks waiting to get off the train. Dude stayed in his seat. Although it was unclear if he continued to play with his tra la la after that. (Thanks Kevin & Bean, now I can’t get the frickin’ Gunther out of my head!)

Obviously, I tried my damnest to keep pace with that group going up to the mainly deserted parking lot at 8:45 p.m. Heebies jeebies!!!

Today, I got off work at 12 noon because of the late day last night and early start this morning. So I called up my former coworkers from the PR Firm from Hell to have lunch with me. I told the boys the story, praising the glory that is the 701 bus and cursing the Blue Line. (Gosh, I’ve missed these guys so much!)

The Romanian: So, you like your bus?

Me: Oh no. I don’t just like the bus. I LOVE the bus.

Terence: My ex-wife took the Blue Line to work once, and that was it.

Me: I don’t blame her.

The Romanian: Why is the Blue Line so bad?

Terence: Have you ever seen “Escape from LA”?

Well put, Terence. Well put.

No, that’s not a name of a quaint little town in the south of England.

That was me this morning in my tennis class.

Yes, folks. After nearly 20 years of playing tennis–well, I haven’t played regularly for the past 13 but who’s really counting–this was the first time I got hit the face by a tennis ball.

Right on my nose and upper lip, y’all.

I had Angelina Jolie upper lip all morning. Brandon said it wasn’t bad, but I could feel my fat lip. It has finally gone down to a level I’m comfortable with.

So, today’s class was about serving and playing double. To get everyone into the right double position, we had a drill. The assistant coach was on the other side, hitting the ball to you to strike at the service line, then you move up and volley at half court, and then smash a high one in front of the net. Another classmate was position up half court as your partner and the assistant coach’s partner. You were supposed to play the ball if it came your way. So far, people haven’t really hit it anywhere or no one ever hit anything back.

So, I hit my first mark, and move up to the second one. I volleyed it across and I could see the assistant coach lopping the high one for me.

The broad across the net decided to slam my volley back. And that ball came straight for my face.

I think I saw stars. And pretty much I was praying that my nose didn’t bleed. But it did. And it didn’t want to stop.

I walked off to sit down. Someone handed me a Kleenex. Coach came over a few minutes later with ice. He said he was sorry I was hit. The last time anyone got hit in the face in his class was 6 years ago. I told him that I’m a record breaker. As a Trojan, you should know we strive for excellence. LOL.

I sat court side for good 15-20 minutes with a nose bleed that didn’t want to stop, accompanied by a 6-year-old boy and very adorable 4-year-old Nicholas who has an endless supply of “Why?”

You should know that the kid with a lot of whys are the smart one. Nicholas turned out to be my knight in shining armor.

I got up the first time, and the nose started to bleed again. I didn’t have any more Kleenex. Ahh…crap. I looked around, and both of the kids asked what I was looking for. I told them my nose was bleeding again and I needed Kleenex or tissue from the bathroom. The 6-year-old just kind of looked at me. But not my little Nicholas.

“I’ll get it!” he said and then I heard a blood curdling scream. “Daddy!!! I need to go to the bathroom! Daddy!!! I need to go to the bathroom!”

His mom, also a tennis student, came to take him. A few minutes later, he returned with a long string of tissue. Mom laughed and said that he ran to the bathroom and started pulling out the paper. She was a little confused as to what he was doing, and he said he needed to get the tissue for the lady with a bleeding nose.

He’s 4, y’all! How cute is THAT!?

Anyhoo. I shared my Gatorade with Nicholas, and eventually returned to the court for the last 30 minutes of class. The coach welcomed me back with “See, everyone? Don’t get hit in the face with a ball because you’ll miss all of the practice. Here, Trojan. Go again.” And he let me serve 4 times. Then we broke up to play one quick match of doubles spread over 4 courts.

Gosh, playing with beginners could be frustrating. Now I know how Joy and Lily think when they played with me in February. Hahah!

Gosh, I SO miss my girls–Joy, Tong, and Lily! We have been playing tennis together since we were kids. Hit and miss. Sometime we were really good and sometimes we suck ass. Around 8th grade, I think it was Joy and Lily who wanted to get the girls together on Friday evening at Polo Club to play tennis. From a group of 6-8, it dwindled down to us four and that was when we became THE party of 4 we are today.

The only incident among us was that Tong and I miscommunicated and we both went for the ball in the middle of the court. She swung at it and hit me in the eyebrow/forehead. That was the first year I came home from the States, and other than Lily, none of us had played the entire year. We were way out of sync.

Lily and Joy have renewed their love for tennis and have been playing regularly now. Tong would occasionally join them. That is a part of what motivate me to go take tennis lessons and find some partners. I need to get back in the game! Not that I’ve ever been good at it. I SUCK at sports. But, it’s one sport I could hold my own quite a bit.

So, there you go. Want Angelina Jolie lips? It’d only cost you $40 if you join a local community college summer tennis class.

So, after I blogged yesterday, I finally was tired enough to take a nap. And then, there was this dream, obviously stemming from my spending entirely too much time at work these past few days.

[Enter dream sequence]

Celeste called me on my cell phone.

“Big Boss wants you to dye the bunnies.”

“What?”

“The white bunnies. He wants you to dye them for Easter.”

“I’m not going dye the bunnies! Are you fucking kidding?”

[And at some point between here and the next scene I was suddenly in my cubicle and Celeste was standing there.]

“But he really wants them done, Oaks. Like, today.”

“Hell. No. I’m not going to dye any bunnies. Not ever.”

Celeste persuaded me to at least come look at the bunnies first. So she led me to the break room. She opened the fridge and started pulling out cute and fluffy white bunnies from the fridge, one or two at a time by the ears, and then plopped them on the table. The bunnies happily hop about the table. There were about a dozen of them.

“See, Oaks. They’re soooo cute. You NEED to dye them.”

“No. I don’t! I’m not going to dye the bunnies and neither you or Big Boss can make me.”

Suddenly, Big Boss was in the room. He insisted that he needed the bunnies dyed in pastel colors and if I didn’t follow his order, he’d have no choice but to make me walk the plank.

Yes. The plank.

Big Boss opened the door behind him. In real life, that door leads to the elevator lobby. In this case, it opens onto the top of a cliff with a plank installed.

“Dye the bunnies. Or walk the plank,” said Big Boss.

I woke up.

And then I documented the dream and emailed it to my department around 6 p.m. or so.

This morning, I found a reply from Big Boss.

“Arrrrrgh mateys. The scurvey wench has mutiny in her spleen. I say we keel haul her at dawn and then she walks the plank. The gulls can pick her eyes out when her water-logged carcass drifts ashore - if she avoids Davey Jones’ locker, that is.

What say you all, me pirate brethren? Shall we give her one last chance to save her wretched self and dye the miserable bunnies…? Or do we send her to a watery grave…?!”

Gotta love it when Big Boss gets into character.