Category: Rant/Whine

Ranting and raving and whining and bitching. Oh yes!

Physical Limit

I’ve been pushing through work and juggling my social life through February.  It seems I’m making new friends and reconnecting with old ones all the time.  Weekends and evenings were no longer just the quiet moments but full of activities.

There have also been changes at my work.  We have created a new department which roped my marketing team of 2 in with 2 other departments to pursue new directions.  The new Boss Man is first a friend.  Much like my relationship with my boss Nhien, because we are friends first, communications are open in both directions.  It makes for very successful partnership I think, but yet also frustrating.  You see, the new department is like new found toy.  There are constantly “Oooh! I want to do THIS!” and “Yeah, let’s do THAT!” which tend to throw a wrench at both us and another department.

The perfect analogy for my current work situation, which my colleagues agreed on, is that the New Department is like a box of marbles spilled across the floor.  Your day-to-day responsibility is like the door you’re trying to reach.  You want to get to the door but you keep tripping on the marbles and falling down.  You pick up the marble and put it back in the box and keep going toward the door but there will be another marble to trip you up.  You eventually get to the door but you’re now all banged up. AND you’re late.  Eventually, we will all learn to navigate the marbles and manage to pick them all up AND get to the door gracefully.  In the meantime, put on your helmet, kids–it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

Now, the Big Event just wrapped up without much of  hitch on Wednesday.  So a huge weight has been lifted but yet more are on the way.  In all of this, I’m trying to squeeze in an hour here and there to study Italian.  I’ve been neglecting homework because I thought I can totally do this without much help, but every week I fall further and further behind.  I’m realizing the reason why I struggle so much with it is because I’m learning a third language on my second language.

To use Hugh Laurie’s analogy of going to the set of House being the only one who has to add an accent, it’s like going to a battle with a fish when everyone else has a sword.  Almost everyone in class is a native English speaker.  Most also speak Spanish even a little bit.  I’m there with Thai being my native tongue and here I am learning a new language on my second language.  My head is translating it front and back and left and right before I come to some conclusions.  However, the benefit of my Thai tongue is that I can roll the R’s and sound the hard T’s better than anyone.

So here I am, trying to be a better student and put in some homework time.  On top of that, I still have to find time to cook–which, sadly, I’ve been able to do strictly on the weekends, to keep the blogs up to date, and to wrap up my tax paperwork.  Hey, at least the office is in order now.  I just have to comb through the pre-sorted bill and reconcile everything.

Oh, and today I had Italian class in the morning, was supposed to be at a salsa workshop at noon, bake a cake, then off to a baby shower at 4 and a birthday dinner at 7.  Thankfully the last 2 parties are at the same place.

At this level, I thought for sure I would go down with a cold after the Big Event.  I ended up with massive allergies starting at the event.  My stomach has been warring with me pretty much for 2 weeks.  And then my back decided to throw a coup as I was having a nice relaxing dinner with Brandon.

It’s like my brain knows of the maddening schedule I have ahead of me today.  So last night on behalf of the entire body, my back muscles decided to throw a tantrum and seized up.

So, no salsa today.  And up until now, I’ve been laying flat on the couch, nursing the stout left in the bottle from making my chocolate Guinness cake with some Ibuprofen.

I don’t know if having been a better eater helps stemmed the physical meltdown I usually have after a stressful period of time.  You know, my usual 24 hour of low fever and energy zap?  Not happening this time.  So the body just went for the most recent injury, my back, and uses THAT to punish me.

Well, I’m soldiering on anyway.  At least tomorrow all I have to do is type up notes for Thrill the World and go to the meeting at 7 p.m.

But then there’s the farmers market I want to get to, dinner I want to make, and the paperwork…FUCKIN’ PAPERWORK!!!

*sigh*

So, how is your week/weekend?

Ear Candy

I’m pretty sure every girl wants to be serenaded.  I mean, tell me you haven’t had a little dream about that whole scene of opening up the window/balcony to find your boy downstairs, singing to you with or without a guitar, with a mariachi band, or holding up his boombox.

I must say that this romantic fantasy all started for me because of Freddy of My Fair Lady.  He was outside her house because “there’s nowhere else on earth that I would rather be”.  I mean, seriously!   Would a boy REALLY think that of me

Obviously, “On the street where you live” has become the first in many songs in my fantasy world of being serenaded.  Along with that are these new additions.

*

“She” – Elvis Costello

This song gets to me since the first time I heard it in Notting Hill. The music is beautiful. His voice, fantastic. When I get to read the words, I am absolutely in love with the song.  This is one that gives me goosebumps and gets me tearing up no matter how many times I’ve heard it before.

My favorite part:

She
May be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I’m alive
The one I’ll care for through the rough in ready years
Me
I’ll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I’ve got to be
The meaning of my life is
She

*sigh*

*

“If it kills me” – Jason Mraz (acoustic)

This one of those songs I’m sure at some point in time you want to hear someone confesses to you. May be it’s just me, but finding out that you’ve always been the secret object of someone’s affection this whole time, that’s kind of sweet.

If I should be so bold
I’d ask you to hold my heart in your hand
I’d tell you from the start how I’ve longed to be your man
But I never said I would
I guess I’m gonna miss my chance again

Then again, it’s probably because nobody ever asked me out.  LOL.  Both of my relationships I was the one doing the asking.  Well, you know, I’m one of those living in the moment–I have figured out what I want and I’m too impatience to wait around.

You. Here. Boyfriend. Now. Very pirate of me.

Always the one to go out and get what I want, I’m not sure I know what it’s like to be wanted first. Heh.

*

Well, those were mine.  What songs do you want to hear sung under your window?

Meatless Tuesday: Week 4 (Plus other things)

Well crap. I’ve been so busy that this blog is slowly becoming all about my Meatless Tuesday.  Sorry guys!

Just to catch you up, last Wednesday was our 8th wedding anniversary.  On our way to our tradition dinner at Benihana through the infamous SoCal rainstorm, we were rear-ended.

As we crested over the 405 close to Fairview exit, we got out of the carpool lane to get to the 73.  Suddenly in front of us, a black sedan was sideway on the #1 lane.  Its visibly damaged trunk was partly in the carpool lane and the hood in #2 lane.  Unable to swerve around, Brandon slammed the brakes.  We stopped many cars length from the black sedan.  Far enough distance to be safe but yet close enough to see the people in the car trying to get out of their vehicle.

See?  Driving at speed limit, leaving plenty of room in front of you in a torrential rain actually works. Unfortunately, the guy behind us didn’t follow the same rule.

All we could see out the rear view mirror was a smaller car than our Santa Fe disappearing behind us.  And *CRUNCH*.  We bounced around in our seats.  Not too badly, but enough to know we would be in pain the next day.

Some folks had questioned me why we moved from the crash site.  Well, among the many unwise reasons to get out of our vehicle or stay stalled in this lane–oh, I don’t know.  It’s dark.  It’s rainy. We are in the fast lanes with fast cars whizzed recklessly by each side of us? Um. No. We were not sitting out here to cause MORE accidents.

So we started to pull over to the shoulder.  The car that hit us started to follow.  Oh, goodie.  However, by the time we got to the shoulder, there was nobody behind us.

That motherfucker was GONE.

We called 911 and waited for the CHP to show up.  We couldn’t see what became of that black sedan either.

The tow truck showed up first and he told us that he was here for the black sedan that was reported by several people to be blocking the #1 lane.  But there was nobody out there except us, he said.

Soon after that, CHP pulled up and got us off the freeway to file report and talk about the incident.

In short, somebody hit the black sedan and left the scene.  The black sedan, having caused our accident, left the scene.  The guy who crashed into us also left the scene.  If it wasn’t for decent people calling that black sedan in to 911, it would’ve sounded like we made the whole thing up.   I am forever grateful to those good Samaritans who called that in, by the way.

Back to us, with fading adrenaline rush, Brandon and I continued onto Benihana to make the best out of the rest of the evening.  We popped some ibuprofen and went in to enjoy our dinner.  Our necks were tensed but we didn’t quite feel the impact yet.  I tried to dull it with a sample flight of sake…which didn’t really work.

The kicker of it all is that we had just finished fixing up the Santa Fe from Brandon’s day-before-Thanksgiving rear-ending.  (That one was paid for fully by the lady who hit him.)

AND we now found out our insurance apparently only cover physical injury from a hit-and-run/uninsured motorists but NOT the damage to the car.

Then again, this is now a week after the incident, my lower back still is  VERY tensed.  Brandon has been doing well so far but, true to what our doctor told us, sometime the muscles don’t react to the impact until many days later, now the Mister also has the problem.

Now, to top off the cake that was yesterday in the Kingdom of Crazy (aka the office), my back was so tensed I had to go get a massage.  The journey home on the bus took FOREVER as the jackasses, trying to creep up to the congested freeway entrances, blocked intersections all over Downtown LA.  Seriously, if you set LAPD out to ticket all of those bastards blocking traffic, endangering pedestrians as well as impeding traffic, City of LA would totally pull out of the financial shithole they’re in.  But I digress.

The massage part of Meatless Tuesday was nice, but not so much the rest of the day.

It all started at breakfast…

Breakfast

  • Half of the Honey Nut Cheerios I originally intended to eat.  I tripped and spilled most of the bowl full of cereal and milk onto my cubicle floor.  *sigh*
  • Snack: a slice of lemon poppy seed cake someone brought in.

.

Lunch

  • Veggie burger at Rowdy Red with only half of the buns.  A bit of the sweet potato fries with ranch dressing. It was really tasty and I personally liked it.  However my guts didn’t want any of that.

.

Dinner

  • 2 slices of Pizza Hut Veggie Lover pizza.
  • A general scoop of Ben & Jerry’s Neopolitan Dynamite.

.

Satisfaction Level: I WANT A FUCKING MEATY CHEESEBURGER NOW level.  I was hungry all day.  And cranky because of that.  Well, the botched attempt at breakfast got me nice and hungry through lunch.  I have to give the veggie burger credit for being thoroughly satisfying.  But then it acted up, leaving me miserable and quite literally drained for the rest of the afternoon.  I was so busy I didn’t get to snack before the evening massage either.

Thoughts: Yesterday just sucked in general. *sigh*

Thanks, Coach

Dear Uncle Pete,

So, you’re finally leaving us.

Yes, I am hurt.  And disappointed.  I mean, don’t you love US?  Don’t you love college ball?  I mean, you’ve said it over and over and over again that here is where you want to be.  What changed, Coach?  Have we not loved you enough?

I know that you deny any bad blood between you and Mike Garrett or your departure has anything to with the looming NCAA ruling.  But I think we all understand how much suck it could be to work for an asshat and to get out before the heat is unbearable.   (On that note, Reggie, I hate you.  And that goes for you too, Joe McFlashy.  All I can say to you is that karma does exist, boys.  You watch out now.)

At the end of the day, Team Carroll has to come first.  It’s only human.  We would’ve done the same thing for the money and the escape.

But of course, we have expected so much from you, Coach.  We didn’t think you’d leave us.

Well, that’s all I have to bitch and moan about it.  We can throw a tantrum all day and hold vigils all night.  It’s all done now.

Now that I get that out of my system. .. *exhale*

Thanks for a one hell of a run at USC, Uncle Pete.  You have turned the Hackett Horror Picture Show around into something beyond our imagination.  You have spoiled us rotten with all the wins.  This past rebuilding season has been quite hard for all of us, but you got us through it much better than anyone could have expected.

You changed the face of Trojan football forever, Coach.  We haven’t had this much fun since, well, I don’t know when.  (I came in toward the end of Robinson’s era.)

Your charity, A Better LA, is really making a difference out there.  You weren’t just here to coach and get your paycheck.  You were a part of the  community.

Many bandwagon fans had boo’ed when we lost, and they are probably are cursing at you right now for your departure.  The Coliseum may be half empty under new management.  But hey, good riddance.  And better yet, I might actually have a chance to get in on some forfeit season tickets.  But I digress.

Us TRUE Trojan fans appreciate what you’ve done for us all these years.  All the championships and Heisman.  The Bush Push.  The surprise that was Sanchez.  The pranks you pulled on the team.  Ah. The memories!

I don’t know if Seattle folks can love you like we do.  Just sayin’.  But hey, I’m sure you will wow and charm them like you did us.

Wish you the best in Seattle.

Fight on.

Love/Hate

Well, this post started after I watched the latest episode of “Sood Sanaeha”, the Thai soap I’m following.  Long story short, she finally sees what has been in front of her this whole time, and decides to nab the Chef.  The Chef walks away after her big scheme to apologize to him.

I was actually cheering for the Chef.  Good for you for leaving that manipulative, selfish, whiny bitch!

(Well, this is not the finale. Although to me, it’s a perfect ending right there!  Karma is a bitch, bitch!  But this is Thailand, expect a few more episodes of  the scheming to get him back.)

It then dawns on me, oh my god. There is NO MAN on the planet like that guy!  I mean, he actually tells this bitch he thinks she’s perfect to him despite all of her flaws?  He actually LOVES this narcissistic, kniving crybaby?!?!  Seriously!?!?

I love the lovey-dovey thing he’s been doing since he realizes he had fallen for her while she floats around completely oblivious to his suddenly undivided attention.  I hate the fact that we are now fed the image of a perfect man…who doesn’t exist at all.

Hi. I’m Oakley. I am a romantic comedy addict. AND a romantic comedy hater. All at the same time.

I love a good romantic comedy once in a while.  Some of them I can watch over and over again. Even Brandon starts to recognize them because I would stop and watch whenever they are on TV.

Part of me still wants a tall sexy French man to tell me I don’t have to fly anywhere and take me back to the stone cottage on a vineyard.

To go to a pub after a break up and get pissed on Grolsch and meet a funny bloke who quotes Monty Python…then chop off my hair and start my own company, all the while getting over the break up and learning to enjoy life and love again with said funny bloke.

To follow all the signs that lead to that one true love I met randomly a long time ago on one spectacular evening in New York City.

To be loved by a boy for who I truly am despite the fact that I’m a major movie star.

To have a hunky roommate who actually has been trying to show me what the world is really like while I hide behind a theory of why some men are jerks, but yet he is there to catch me when I come to my senses.

To have someone who manages to fall in love with me just by talking to me on the phone and still love me despite the fact that I am not the gorgeous tall blond he thought I was but a nerdy short brunette.

To meet some guy by random chance who adores me even though I seem to be making all the mistakes like breaking his Rayban and his camera, AND still has feelings for me after 2 years of being abroad.

And to realize that what I want for Christmas is, well, you.

[ Oh yeah, name those movies, get some kudos. Leave your answers in the comments.  (Hint: One of these you may find some clues in recent posts.) ]

In other word, deep down inside I still want to dream that big crazy romantic dream of getting swept off my feet and living happily ever after.

But then again, reality is different than fiction.

I guess–no, I know–I am bitter that romantic comedy doesn’t work in real life.  And then I hate romantic comedy for putting a veil over the eyes of young girls everywhere about what love should be like, setting all of us up for disappointment later on.

Hey, I was once the citizen of Planet RomCom too.  It took many years, several heart breaks, and lord knows how many gallons of tears to realize that life and relationship is NOTHING like the movies.

I know a few people who still wait for Mr. Darcy (both Jane Austen’s and Bridget Jones’) and keep throwing away opportunies or perfectly good relationships because it didn’t fit what they have in mind.  You know, how it should be on Planet RomCom.  They’re miserable for that.

It’s back to that Team Jacob v.s. Team Edward conversation we had recently.  Do you want something real or do you want something to swoon to?  I chose the practical love I can rely on with not a lot of swoon factor.  Hence, the stack of romantic comedy I have around the house.

I guess swooning is like a drug.  Once in a while you need a fix. And since we can’t be 16 again to get the full effect of raging love hormones, we go to our “dealer” and get a romantic comedy.

So, scoot on over, darling.  Tonight, I need me a little “Pretty in Pink”.

What is love

As previously stated, I am not a Twi-hard. I haven’t read the books, and I haven’t even watch Twilight until a few days ago on Thai cable at the urging of my sister-in-law who insisted that I knew the story before we see New Moon.

Being a pop culture fiend, I did know that story. Going straight into New Moon wouldn’t be a problem. I mean, Kuri’s attempt at reading Twilight for the rest of us got me to know enough of the sap involve that I personally don’t want to get in on that crap.  (Thanks again, Kuri for taking one for the team!)

But hey, I know how night time Thai TV could be. Twilight was a better choice.

As I mentioned in the other post, my interst in New Moon was purely out of lust.  Helllooooo Jacob!  I actually wanted to see it more after having seen Twilight because of the adorableness of Taylor Lautner even before the beefyness.

From both movies, I learned to really dispise Edward and Bella and for the lessons they are teaching teenage girls everywhere.

  • You should love your stalker because he cares so much.
  • It’s okay for him to sneak into your bedroom while you slept and watch you sleep.
  • He confesses that he could physically hurt you and possibly kill you and he can barely restrain himself when he’s around you, BUT he loves you too much to go away. And you should love him back because that’s all about love.
  • You should hide your boyfriend from your dad.
  • Because your first (and who you think is your true) love moves away, you should be depressed and want to risk your life so you can just get a hallucination of him (aka your conscience…and probably your guts) telling you NOT TO DO THE STUPID SHIT.
  • Your boyfriend should want to kill himself if you were to die.
  • You also should leave your parent worried to go save said dumbass boyfriend.
  • You should take advantage of another boy who also likes you, leading him on so he could fix your bike and run to you to protect you at will. But you will drop his ass the moment the “true love” is back in town. (…what a whore…)

I also found myself giggling in the theater every time Edward uttered the “You’re my only reason to live” crap.  Not swoony giggle but give me a fuckin’ break giggle.  Well, I guess if he’s over 100 years old, you get that right to use that type of language.  But still, hot dang.  I haven’t seen that much cheese since what was on Brenda’s Oktoberfest platter.

Now, you turn around and take a look at Jacob.  He is her friend first. They share laughs. They had a great time. He actually runs off when he finds out he’s not good for her…unlike Edward who keeps it going and going…Jackass.  He actually stays and fights to protect her instead of throwing her in a car so they could run away.  Even when she denies him, he still hangs around the make sure she’s okay.  A much healthier relationship over here than oh my god I’ll throw myself over a cliff because he’s not here kind of thoughts.

I guess I am too practical for that romantic notion of love.  Dont’ get me wrong, I still swoon over romantic comedy.  A few days ago I watched a Thai romcom, “Bangkok Traffic (Love) Story” (Rod Faifa Ma Ha Na Tuh) and came out of the theater starry eyed.  (Then again, it did end in the planetarium…)  I appreciate the sweet story however the sap I can no longer handle.

Call me jaded, but I’d take the more practical application of love than the swoony kind.  No bullshit kind of love.

Hence, Team Jacob here.  Straight up I love you and I’m here for you.  I could be a little nutty so back the hell off or you’ll get hurt…which is every dude when they’re angry anyway.  But I’m here for you.

Pretty much the love Brandon and I have. No sugar coating type of love.  I love you.  Here it is.  So Team Jacob = Team Brandon too. 🙂

And he definitely doesn’t sparkle in sunlight…albeit occasionally I think he glows in the dark.  Heehee.