OakMonster's Den

There have been more than one occasions when my bus buddies and I, the last group to get on the bus heading for Downtown LA, would get on our “full” bus to find this.

When I say our bus is full, it means there maybe just enough seats for the last 3-4 of us to sit down and then that’s it.

This guy here would sit just like this with his lunch on the seat.  He would WATCH us scan for seats and not move a muscle.  Until we go up to him to ask him for the seat, he would keep it right there on the seat.  Just like that.  He wouldn’t even attempt to try to move his lunch to clear up a seat when people get on the bus like most decent people would do.

On those occasions, I would make a point to go straight for that motherfuckin’ seat.  Last time, I didn’t even ask, “Can I sit here?” but “Can you move your lunch?”.

Every morning I see him, I swear to god it’s like this.  Given, some of us with much possessions would put our crap on the seat too. But this is a fucking brown bag, dude. Put it on our fucking lap.

Our bus is a commuter bus with limited run.  Most of us see each other everyday.  Some of us even go out to dinner off the bus…yeah, that’d be me and my little gang.

So we have come to identified who are decent people and who are complete asshats.

For example, a few weeks ago the earlier of the two buses home was broken down.  The first bus home is notorious for being crowded all the time since they cut the second bus out of our route.  By the time our usual last bus picked everyone up, it was reported that people actually had to stand on the way home.  I wasn’t on the bus but my friend Ana was, and she was the last one getting on the standing room only bus.

I knew exactly who on my last bus would give up their seats for Ana and any other women. She confirmed it.  There were more guys who wouldn’t give up their seats that day for anybody.

Fuck, man. I gave up my seat for an old lady on an 1-hour-ride sardine-can MTA bus before when all the dudes just stared ahead. (And then they stared at ME for giving up said seat.)  An hour standing isn’t bad. Find some balls and be a man.

In situations like these is when you find out who the good people are.

Chivalry isn’t dead, yet.  My congratulations and utmost respect to all the parents who raise their sons right.

Like this guy at my Starbucks this morning.

He already went through the door when he saw me approaching many steps away.  He took a step backward, out of the line, to open the door for me.

Now, that was very sweet of him.

So, when he was ready to pay for his coffee, I handed my card to the cashier instead.  For a second, I didn’t think he knew what just happened.  LOL.  When he figured it out, of course, he wouldn’t let me pay for his coffee but I insisted.

“You made my day. I’m making yours,” I said.

Now, you go out and make someone’s day.  Even if it’s just holding the door open.

“My friend is having a green wedding,” an acquaintance said.

Everyone present chimed in.  How cool!  How exciting!

Of course, being me, I piped, “Ah! Green wedding. Also known as just another wedding that cost twice as much.”

“Well, they’re using all these recycled materials and stuff.  You know, being really green about the whole process.”

I chuckled.

The acquaintance, at this point, was getting annoyed with me. “Well, she’s a very environmentally conscious person. They want their wedding to be good for the environment.”

“The bride and groom and two witnesses carpooled to the courthouse and get married by a judge, now THAT’s a ‘green’ wedding,” I added.

The acquaintance glared at me.  Someone else changed the subject.

Am I right?

You and your fiancee, 2 witnesses, your parents, and a judge.  That’s the LEAST amount of waste and carbon footprint one could generate for a wedding.

Brandon pointed out to me later when I told him about the conversation.

“Sure. What about all of the guests driving in to the wedding in their gas guzzling cars? How is your little ‘green’ wedding going to off set THAT.”

Exactly my point.

Having a “green” wedding because it’s trendy and then you go right back to live your normal, not-so-green life? What’s the point? Well, I guess with a “green” wedding, you can now show everyone just how socially responsible you are.

After all, for some people, being socially responsible is not something they really want to be, they do it because it’s just another fad.

That’s just me.  What do you think?

Tuesday marked my first week anniversary for being a metal mouth.  And I ated a cheeseburger.

Oh yeah, I have a new blog set up for just that at Brace Face Chronicles.

Someone questioned if I should need another blog.

I would answer with one of these. Because I can just have one concentrated area to bitch and moan all about my inability to eat or the pain the braces hath brought.  Because I can share the experience with other adults who are now getting their braces…or like me, getting them again for a second time.

*

At a recent gathering, someone asked why I got braces.

“You didn’t really need it, did you?” “I didn’t see anything wrong with your teeth before?”

Then I launched into the reasons why…which I won’t do again when you can just read it here.

*

I am almost through with the Italy part of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. Thoroughly inspired, I found me some weekend Italian lessons in Irvine with Fondazione Italia.

And I will be taking those classes in the fall.

When I told someone that I wanted an Italian lesson, they’d look at me, puzzled.

“Why?” “What for?” “Why not Spanish?”

I would answer with one of these. I LOVE the food. I PLAN on going to spend a lot of time in Italy someday. AND learn to cook while I’m at it. I love the way the language sound. I love the way the people speak it. I love the Italian way of looking at life and how they live it.

*

My recent choices seem to bring up a lot of questions from others and I found myself finding an answer that would make sense to them.

And then I realize I don’t have to justify anything to anyone.

I’m getting braces because I can.

I’m writing about my experience because I can.

I’m taking Italian lessons because I can.

Because I can.

With that phrase, I can haz anything.

“So what are you doing for Mother’s Day?” asked the perky medical assistant taking my vitals.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Nothing?”

“Well, if my mom hasn’t passed away, she’d be in Thailand so that’s kind of hard. Besides, Thai Mother’s Day is in August, so…”

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

It still feels a little funny telling some strangers that my mom has passed on. A lot of “where are your parents?” question when people find out I wasn’t from here. I usually go with “My dad and brothers are in Thailand still” and hope that THAT would be enough clue for people. But most people followed with, “What about your mom?”

She’s dead.

Oh my god. I’m so sorry.

No, no. That’s okay. Really, I have nothing else better to do than trying to make you feel better about a line you’ve just crossed. Seriously. It’s my fault for not having a living mother you can asked about. And it’s my fault for not telling you straight off.

Hi, I’m Oakley. I’m from Thailand. My husband’s white. My mom’s dead.

There. Is that better? Great.

It’s been over a year and I’m still not comfortable saying it out loud to people.

Does anyone ever get used to saying it?  Could one?

I went to my local cupcake shop, Charmed Cupcakes, to buy some for the office birthday party tomorrow.

“I would like to get 3 cupcakes, please. And can you please put them in one box?”

“Actually, I can’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t put 3 cupcakes in one box. But I can do two of them in one and one of them by itself.”

Odd. I’ve gotten cake in bigger boxes before. “Oh, I guess that’s okay. Now, I would like 4 more cupcakes, please.”

“Do you want them in one box?”

“Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

She put 4 cupcakes–eventually 5 cupcakes because it was buy 3 get one free promotion–in one BIG box.

However, 3 cupcakes don’t qualify to go in ONE big box.

Thank god the cupcakes are really good here.

Happy Earth Day.

I’m not much of an environmentalist but I’m slowly becoming a plastic bag usage nazi.

I have canvas bags in my car and use them for my grocery shopping everywhere, and I refuse to take any plastic bags whenever I can carry my own loot out of the store…which was met with a LOT of  “Are you sure?”

Yes I AM sure I can carry my prescription and a bottle of Nyquil out on my own.

Yes I AM sure a loaf of bread, a pack of sliced cheese, and 2 tomatoes won’t need a bag.

Yes I AM sure I won’t need a bag for ONE bottle of Dr. Pepper, doesn’t matter what size it is.

It’s not just us shopper who need to change. It’s the shopkeepers as well.

I do recycle bottles and cans at home because we have a recycling trailer thingy close by.  And with the amount of sodas and Yakult consumed by Brandon and I, respectively, it would be ridiculous not to recycle those.

However, if our apartment has a full recycling trash pick up like those in private homes, I would recycle everything possible.  I think it is worth the time to recycle.

Finally, my biggest environmental guilt.

I am a big guilty for not bringing my coffee mug down to Starbucks.  I was doing that for a while and ended up with up to 3 unwashed mugs on my desk.  Now that I’m doing Starbucks latte type only once a week, I probably should pick that habit up again, and bring a plastic bottle in for my occasional iced tea treats.

Now only if we can do something about garbage BAGS we put all this stuff in.

And it wouldn’t be Earth Day without this.

Funniest quote of the weekend:

We rode the Passport bus to the Grand Prix and back from Alamitos Bay.  Somewhere by the Bluff on our way back, we spotted a couple of ladies walking down the street holding hands.

The woman in front of us turned her head completely, pointing at the couple, excitedly telling her friend, “Oh my GOD! Girl, look! Look!  Lesbians holding hands!”

The friend wore a Lakers hat and she didn’t really turn her head to look back, so I could only assume she’s local.

I live in a diverse existance and I am an openminded person.  Sometime I really do forget there are folks out there who might have never seen a gay couple in their lives.

But pointing and gasping at lesbians holding hands? Really?  I mean, what are you on a safari trip, pointing out exotic creatures?

Sure, curiousity is one thing. But so openly pointed some PEOPLE out as if they were novelty creatures, that’s just rude.

But anyways. I digress.

Hi.  How are ya?  ;-D

It’s been an interesting few days.

I’ve gone from a mother hen in the cooking class on Wednesday.

To a blob of exhaustion on Thursday, sleeping off my usual post-stress system crash for most of the day, just to drag myself out to my bus buddy’s retirement party in the evening.

To an IT guy on Friday, hunting down missing softwares and install them on my own new computer. Our actual IT guy popped in here and there to log me in as admin so I can install stuff my(goddamn)self.

To a social butterfly on Saturday, going out to see Sunshine Cleaning with Amanda, then we met up with our hubbies for dinner at Long Beach’s only Korean restaurant, Cafe Sura, THEN we met up with our friend Zak who introduced us to his lovely fiance down in Belmont Shore.  (By the way, Belmont Station? Seriously? That place is dumpy compared to everyone else on the strip.)

To a overheating Long Beach Grand Prix attendee on Sunday.  It started with a great party at Keesal, Young & Logan to which I was privileged to get invited, then we went to the Grand Prix itself.  I still don’t understand the appeal of really fast cars going around the tracks 85 times.  But at least Formula 1 cars are not just going around in big circles.  I probably took over 200 pictures, only 4 of which I actually caught the damn cars.  I’ll put those pictures up soon.

It’s been kind of busy but in a good way, really.  How’s your weekend?

Just got back from seeing Watchmen with Brandon and Lee.  Lee, who is a big fan of the graphic novel, gave it a 4 out of 5.  She said if we liked this, we definitely have to get the book, which we intend to do just that.

Wow. What a revelation!  It was stylized just enough. Violent in all the necessary places.  I might need to talk to somebody about my mental state because Rorschach is definitely my hero now.

Trailers were also massively awesome.  Possibly the best line up of trailers: Wolverine, Star Trek, Terminator, and, for some of us, Angels & Demons.  We’ll forget that they tarnished this almost-perfect line-up with that number movie with Nick Cage and yet another mall cop comedy. Whatever.

Oh, and I will also need some therapy having that much blue, um, well, er, “twig” swung around in my face.  Is it weird for me to wonder where Dr. Manhattan might have put his, um, well, er, “berries?”  Was he cold walking around naked all the time that causes some, um, well, er, shrinkage?

/wipes mental image of 50 feet of blue…GAHHHH!!!

For those who have seen the movie/read the novel, I have a couple of treats for you, courtesy of my beloved LA Time’s Hero Complex Blog.  Those who haven’t seen the movie/read the novel, it’ll still be funny.  But come back to watch all of these AFTER the movie/novel, and it’ll be a LOT funnier.

First, as Hero Complex names it, Attack of the Show Takes On Lower Manhattan.

Sorry to put that giant blue, um, well, er, pole, back in your mind.  You can clear that out with this kids-friendly Saturday Morning Watchmen.

Speaking of kids-friendly, what kind of a fucked up mother would step up to buy tickets to the Watchmen with a 5-year-old and a toddler in a stroller?

Seriously, lady.  It’s rated R.  Clearly, you have no idea.  But guess who will be kicking herself later when her 5-year-old asked what the Night Owl and the Silk Spectre were doing and you will be waken up on the middle of the night by your two children screaming when Rorschach’s actions revisit them in their dreams.  Good job scarring your children for life , dumb ass.

I had a dream a few nights ago that I was back in school at Mater Dei.  Having heard Aurora talked about burning her hand on chemistry set back in high school at dinner time, in the dream, I ended up back in a chemistry lab.  My lab partner is one of my school friends but she is for some reason in a wheel chair and for that I have to help her with her lab stuff.

We were supposed to be measuring water into this beaker.  She kept telling me I was doing it wrong, that was too much water, that wasn’t enough water, it wasn’t supposed to drip like that, etc.

Why don’t you just do it, I asked.  You can’t use your legs but your hands are free. I’ll hold the beaker for you, even.

I can’t, she said. I’m sick, can’t you see?  Now, try it again with the dropper.

So I did.  Once again, she said I was doing it wrong.

I grabbed the beaker and poured the water on her head.

Naturally, she started screaming.  What the hell is wrong with you?  Why would you do that?

The teacher came over.  What is going on here, she asked.  Oakley poured water all over me, my lab partner whined.  The teacher looked at me for an answer.

Because she’s being a little bitch, I pointed out.

The room fell silent.

I see America has changed you, the teacher said.  Now, get out of my lab and go pack your bag too. This school no longer welcomes you.  (Apparently, in this dream, my school becomes a boarding school.)

Fine, I said.  And I left.

A bit of foreshadowing perhaps of my trip to come?  Hell, I already got a request to take down my Princess Leia zombie picture on my Facebook because it was “embarassing.”

Just for that, I’m going to upload a whole bunch of pics to my Facebook gallery.

I am turning 32 tomorrow.  Given, I had a pretty good idea of who I was when I came to the U.S. at 16.  However, I have struggled to find my place in the world for years–and I’ve compromised plenty.  Now that I’ve finally embraced my weirdness and quirks and the shape of my body, I refuse to have someone take that away from me again.

Muck like my geek manifesto and declaration of war against “Normal”, I am declaring war against people who want me to be something else I am not.

The only person I would take that kind of criticism from is my mother, and she is no more.  I will no longer compromise when it comes to my identity.

I will not back down to keep the peace just because I make you uncomfortable.  I refuse to be an easy target for you to feel better about yourself.  I refuse to be the scapegoat for your own low self esteem.  I refuse to be responsible for your feelings because you can’t accept me for who I am.

If you need an excuse from me so I am acceptable enough to you, then clearly, you can’t stand me at all.

I am who I am.  Take it or leave it.

I’ve fired up my much neglected Facebook and updated my LinkedIn.

Boy, did I gather up a whole bunch of new people!  With Facebook, it’s friends and new activity buddies (like Thrill the World people).  With LinkedIn, some long lost coworkers and recent connections.

I personally haven’t used my LinkedIn to full potential, I’m sure.  The Former DemiBoss is a true goddess when it comes to these things.  She’s a real connector in person and that carries into her life in the social media.

I used to really hate it when people say, “I’m glad we could connect,” or “Let us connect later.”

*shudder*

I like the word.  I like what it does.  Connect.  It’s a good thing.  But when it becomes a buzz word for the business world, it loses a bit of magic.

I like to keep in touch with people.  I like to know what is up to with them.  For example, if I hadn’t been sifting through my list, I wouldn’t have found out a former colleague just had her baby in July, or that a spouse of the lady I befriended while at a training class had won an Emmy.

Knowing that people I know are doing well makes me happy.  It makes me truly appreciate the power of the internet to connect people from all over.  Something I couldn’t have done 10 years ago.

Some folks in the business world work the connections because they want to get something.  They want to “connect” because they want to drop the names.  They want to “connect” so they can ask for what they want.  They want to “connect” to get something.

A former coworker (/wave hi you!)  dropped me a pearl of wisdom that works even out of the context of the conversation we were having.

Two kinds of people in the world, Oakley.  The ones who ask, “What’s in it for me?” and the ones who ask, “What can I do to help?”

Obviously, I’m the “What can I do to help?” kind.  Therefore the “What’s in it for me?” folks bug the crap out of me.

Link me so I can USE you down the road for something.

I hate that.

Is there a point to this post?  Not really.  Just venting, I guess.