Guinness. Calamari. Yankees. All things Gregg loved. (Photo: @davidmoyle)

And the Third One came

Guinness. Calamari. Yankees. All things Gregg loved. (Photo: @davidmoyle)

My friend Gregg (@fstop23) died last week after a battle with cancer.

Since his diagnosis in October, he had put up a great fight. But cancer, being a cheating, murderous mother fucker that it is, got the upper hand mid-March.

His death completed the “it comes in three” circle for me personally.  (Remember 2 former coworkers from earlier this year?)

Folks have been writing wonderful things about Gregg and how his life and death impact them.

I wrote about three drafts of this tribute/story about Gregg now and I couldn’t publish any of them.  His death reminded me of my own mother’s.  It’s not fair to him or to anyone else to talk about how I feel and how I’m dealing with it.

But one thing I can share with you and I can share it well.

A rant.

I’m angry at the unfairness of it all.

Why Gregg?  Why now?  Why rare cancer? Why did he has to suffer so much and so long? Why wasn’t he to one to beat this thing?  I mean, the man was one in a million as a human being, why can’t you give him that one in a million chance to beat cancer too? Instead, you have to give him that rare disease nobody knows what to do with.

Why him?

I know I was cooing about how awesomely God/Universe/Karma/Fate/Circumstances has lined things up for me. But did It have to take Gregg as a payment for this cosmic alignment?  Or is this just another way of the Universe to teach me to fly into a brand new world through an emotional turbulence?

Universe deals out tough love, I guess.  I can’t blame It for that.

But I for damn sure will blame cancer.

Fucking. Cancer.

It has taken two of the people in my world now and gotten on my bad side.

The man who would have been here to mentor my professional leap of faith is gone.

The friend who’d swoop in to go do those things I like to do that Brandon doesn’t necessary want to do–like watching Avatar the second time but in 3D IMAX–is gone.

The kind of friend who took pity on this Carole King fan and took me to the James Taylor/Carole King concert at the Hollywood Bowl is gone.

The guy who would show up to watch USC game with me even though he couldn’t care less about college football.  The twitter buddy.  The photography partner.  The gracious party host.  The Yoda of technology and innovation.  The best of a friend anyone can have.

All of that. All of Gregg.

Gone.

Fuck you very much, cancer.

/rant

Coming Soon: New Zealand Adventure

We’re winding down our New Zealand vacation with my dad. He leaves Thursday afternoon and we leave Friday.

So far over 1,000 photos have been taken. I have yet to calculate how many kilometers/miles and hours Brandon had driven in the 5 days we spent in South Island…on the opposite side of the road from the U.S., no less.

We had killed absolutely no possums (different than what we have in North America) and rabbits where are both non-native pests here in New Zealand, destroying forests and bird population. However, the Garmin GPS with Kiwi accent tried to kill us by running our car into the river. We guessed she was pissed after all of her “recalculating…make U Turn”s we ignored all day. And we have a video to prove it.

We had at least 6 great meals, 4 of which were a repeat of 2 restaurants, and one incredibily horrible one. We ate a lot but we also walked a lot in Auckland so I think that was what keeping my pants loose.

Yup. More coming soon!

leap-of-faith

Taking a Leap

On March 31, my 6 years stint at the LA Non Profit came to an end.  Things were changing at the office and the brunt of it fell on me, the only person in the office to get such brunt.

But then God/Universe/Karma/Fate/Circumstances opened a door for me to walk out on.  After all of the signs through my MP3 player and other means, I wasn’t going to ignore this opportunity.

I seriously have followed the lyrics of Defying Gravity.  I have closed my eyes and leaped.

Friends were coming to my rescue with new job leads and opportunities, and pep talks and great advice since the news was broken to me at the end of February.

A friend pointed this out to me: “The office may make you feel like you’ve done something wrong and you’re not good enough.  But if other people jump to the chance to hire you like they’re doing now, it’s definitely not you.”

It’s a brave new world out there for me, y’all.  And we will see what the future bring.

Can’t Stop the Signal

I don’t know about you, but for me, often times, God/Universe/Karma/Fate/Circumstances sent me message through my speakers.

So, my life recently seemed to have been sung through a randomized play list.  They went a little bit like this.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OH9A6tn_P6g]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eR7-AUmiNcA]

…so we’ve arrived at…

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFW-WfuX2Dk]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tiW5ZRQlqEI]

Stay tuned.

All in the name

As many of you know, I am horrible with names.  Shake my hand right now and unless I actually get to talking to you, I won’t remember your name when you walk away.  I will however remember what you look like.  This makes me a horrible networker.

May be I’m compensating for not remembering people’s names by naming inanimate objects in my possession instead.

I’m not particularly good at naming things but I go for it anyway.  My mom’s BFF Aunty Sida is brilliant with names.  For example, she named her vacation house in the mountains of Khao Yai in Thailand “Chuen Chom Poo,” which means “joyously gazing at the mountains.” But when you hear the name pronounced, it could also mean “joyous pink,” Aunty Sida’s favorite color.  Her dogs are named Gaeng Som and Tomm Sapp, both are names for spicy soups.  Even her daughters dogs’ names were in a matching pair, Kati and Kala, coconut milk for the yellow lab and coconut shell for the chocolate lab, and coconut theme because they live on Koh Samui!

I don’t have such talent, I must say.  My candy apple red Kitchenaid mixer is Betsy. *shrug*

0112081229.jpg

Yes, I named my mixer.  Although I wasn’t quite attached enough to the food processor or any other gadget to name them.

Anyway. Let’s back up a little bit.

I think I start to really name things after I named my first car, a forest green sporty Acura Integra.  I named it Tequila because it was just the name I could think of at the time.  And it didn’t really fit the car.  That was when I learned that the object I’m trying to name will reveal itself the name it wants to be called.

The next car, my royal blue clunker of a Toyota Corolla, came along after Tequila was stolen and I was dumped by my boyfriend.  I wanted a heroic name for this knight in blue armor, and then I thought, hmm”¦that color reminded me of this:

I got in the car and started calling it Merlin.  It felt natural.  And there he was.

And of course, the Hyundai Sonata Robin Hood has his own story.

But yes, I now name many things.  Even things that didn’t need names.

My work computer was/is the most powerful in the office, naturally I named it Sully like the most bad ass monsters of Monsters Inc.  This netbook I’m typing on is Momo after the flying lemur in Avatar: The Last Bender, because it’s small and it goes everywhere with you.

My guitar is Dusty…obvious reason. My piano is a Kimball but I don’t want to call her Kimmy so she’s Ginger for her reddish tone.

Brandon also picks up my naming hobby.  His Hyundai Santa Fe is Puma–apparently for the sound it makes.  (I originally named his car Buster because Brandon kept hitting his elbows/knees/hands etc. on the car.  But he didn’t like that name. Oh well.)  Our server is Moya for the ship in Farscape, and our home server is Beast, again, obvious reason.  He also named my USC garden gnome Theodor…”because that’s a gnome-ish name.”

There was a spider who started making his web right above our door and he was there for a few days.  We decided to name him Fred.  So now ALL spiders are referred to as “Fred”.

I even named a piglet in my dream.  And he’s not even real!

One thing we haven’t been able to name, though, is our air rifle.  Brandon wants to call her Vera, like Jayne’s gun in Firefly.  It doesn’t fit.  I keep holding her and try to feel for a name when we take her out shooting, but she remains an enigma.

Ramboakz

As many of you know, I am horrible with names.  Shake my hand right now and unless I actually get to talking to you, I won’t remember your name when you walk away.  I will however remember what you look like.  This makes me a horrible networker.May be I’m compensating for not remembering people’s names by naming inanimate objects in my possession instead.

I’m not particularly good at naming things but I go for it anyway.  My mom’s BFF Aunty Sida is brilliant with names.  For example, she named her vacation house in the mountains of Khao Yai in Thailand “Chuen Chom Poo,” which means “joyously gazing at the mountains.” But when you hear the name pronounced, it could also mean “joyous pink,” Aunty Sida’s favorite color.  Her dogs are named Gaeng Som and Tomm Sapp, both are names for spicy soups.  Even her daughters dogs’ names were in a matching pair, Kati and Kala, coconut milk for the yellow lab and coconut shell for the chocolate lab, and coconut theme because they live on Koh Samui!

I don’t have such talent, I must say.  My candy apple red Kitchenaid mixer is Betsy. *shrug*