2011 has been a serious roller coaster for me professionally and personally. It seems like it was just yesterday when I was updating the 2010 end of the year list!

Golly.

2011 in Pictures

Jan – March: Welcome to the family, Robin Hood the Hyundai Sonata! / Custom made truffles from Drago Centro / Got laid off

April – June: New Zealand vacation / Cochon 555 / The Nerd Machine Slave Leia PSA

July – September: 4th of July at the Los Alamitos Base / Camping on Catalina / USC football season

October – December: Awesome Halloween / Thorough destruction of the bRuins / Annual candy cane martini at Patty’s house

Drinking Buddy of the Year: Brandon…again

When you’re unemployed for most of the year, who else would be your drinking buddy but your husband!  Brandon has returned to claim the title since he got it in 2009.  This year, the mister also started to try wine, so we’ve had a little more fun with that.  Speaking of wine…

Bar of the Year: District Wine, Long Beach

I was introduced to District Wine by USC Alumni Club of Long Beach.  The club has many mixers hosted here and the board congregates here for the board meeting for bottlomless mimosas on a Sunday.  Elegant but cozy place with friendliest of staff can be really mellow some nights and lively on others.

With a variety of wine by the glass and very reasonably priced by the bottle and delicious nosh, if this place was around the corner from my house, I would certainly haunt it.  I like District Wine so much when I was contacted by Ghirardelli to host the Intense Dark chocolate and wine pairing event, I didn’t even try calling anywhere else but here.

I’m looking forward to many, many more good times!

Restaurant of the Year: Vino e Cucina, Long Beach

My friend Brenda introduced me to Vino e Cucina a few years back. It was REAL Italian food, owned and operated by Italian family.  I totally loved the food there since the very first bite, but I couldn’t get Brandon through the door for the longest time.  You see, the first time we popped in was a Friday night when they were still in the one store. With no reservation, they couldn’t seat anyone. B didn’t like that too much.

Since then they had expanded into the neighboring storefronts, and I finally convinced Brandon to come order a to-go dinner on a weeknight. The food proved itself worthy.  And now we eat there about once every other month.

Newcomer Award: Saatchi LA Peeps

“But Oakley, you only worked there for 4 months! How could you be so attached to these people?”

When you find a work environment you like, meet the people you adore, and get a sense of a company culture that fits you like a glove, you can’t help yourself feeling like you’ve always worked there. I feel like I belong there more than any other place I’ve worked at before (maybe except HSX.com).  I’ve met great people and created some awesome memories in my short time here.  This will not be soon forgotten.

Oh, and again, thanks, Matt.

High point of the Year: New Zealand Trip

Fresh off the layoff, the trip was the perfect springboard into the new adventure.  It was a carefree trip. We ate a lot. We walked a lot. Then we drove a LOT but we also saw a lot along the way.  We nerded out with Lord of the Rings sites. We drank plenty of wine and guzzled enough local beer. We took a million pictures (and I haven’t uploaded them all yet).

It was great seeing my dad and getting him out traveling even on a very limited schedule. My mom had always wanted to visit New Zealand. In a way, we were taking this trip for her as well.

The best, though, is that my dad and I reunited with my cousins Nancy and Nat who we haven’t seen in 10+ years.  I also finally get to meet my nephew Brandon for the first time.

What an adventure.

Low point of the year: Unemployment

Yes, I was all gung-ho about my new adventures. Then I was defeated by the reality of it.  I had some days when all the rejection emails and resumes that disappear into the black hole that is the Orange County job market really got me.  There were days when I felt useless and stupid. And there were days when I thought I should just grab a cup and go panhandle.

I’ve gotten used to a set schedule and a steady paycheck for these past 4 months. Going back to not working is going to be interesting all over again.

Holiday of the Year: Halloween…again

That’s it. I’m retiring this category since a) Halloween is my favorite holiday, and b) it’s ALWAYS awesome.

This year I didn’t have quite the same number of costume change as last year.  But I still had quite a bit.  A 1980s prom princess at work pre-Halloween. A Trojan Cat in the Hat for Halloween weekend tailgate.  Myself aka the Devil for work on Halloween day and then the TARDIS in a tutu for Halloween party that evening.

That TARDIS outfit though, I’m quite proud of. Now you just have to find more occasions to rock out my blue tutu. Hee.

Song of the Year: Pumped Up Kicks, Foster the People

I know, I know. This song is now overplayed.  However, you have to give it credit of the catchiness.  I mean, I caught it a bit before it blew up and I still caught myself humming it out of the blue.

Movie of the Year: Captain America

As a Harry Potter fan, the final Potter movie should be on this list. However, it just wasn’t. Since I haven’t seen The Muppets just yet, Captain America will be crowned as my favorite this year.

Super hero movies has gone gray. You know, all the heroes have some kind of flaws or darkness they have to deal with.  It’s so refreshing to see a TRUE super her with no baggage.

Surprise Movie of the Year: The Warrior’s Way

Brandon got this on rental. Horrendously cheesy with the story, the comic book CGI, and gratuitous violence. Everyone is over the top and stereotypical. The plot is predictable as hell too. But you know almost immediately that you can’t take any of it seriously. Even the actors don’t seem to be taking it seriously. Once you look at this as a live action comic book rooted in no reality of any kind, some kind of a fantastic voyage where everyone is in on the joke, you’ll totally enjoy it.

Book of the Year: Hunger Game trilogy

Oh, Entertainment Weekly Magazine. You influence me so. After having read so much about it, I decided to pick up the Hunger Game paperback for my New Zealand trip. I just couldn’t put it down. I ordered the box set the moment I came back and plowed through the rest in a record speed.

I mean, what’s not to like? Post apocalyptic, totalitarian world. A teenage girl fights for her family. Two boys who love her yet she doesn’t really know what she’s feeling.

If you can skip through the narratives about the food, the fashion, and how she was confused about her relationships–pretty much the parts Brandon couldn’t stand and therefore didn’t read past the first book–you have yourself one kick-ass sci-fi trilogy.

And next summer, the movie. Squee!

TV Show of the Year: American Horror Story

I actually didn’t want to continue watching after I watched the pilot. My skin was left crawling. Too intense of an hour of television.  But curiosity–and free on demand–brought me back.

And boy am I back and so totally obsessed with this show now. (Glee? What’s that?)

That’s about it for 2011.

But I, for one, really am thankful this year for my friend Matt.

Without Matt, I wouldn’t be working at this contract, making new friends, learning new skills. I surely wouldn’t have found a work environment I truly feel at home in.

Without Matt, I wouldn’t have the budget to continue to host a Thanksgiving feast for my “orphan” friends as I have done for the past few years.

I would say that I owe Matt my first born for his help, but he already has two kids and I’m not having any. But pretty much, if Matt calls my house at 3 a.m. in need of a babysitter, I’d do it.

I would write a song about Matt like the Cantonians sing of Jayne Cobb. But then I couldn’t quite make it rhymes. “The hero of the Borens, the man they called Matt…?”

Talk about owing somebody a big one. There’s no other person I’d be more than happy to owe it to.

So, Matt. Thank you for being my big brother. Thank you for my job.

And thank you for my turkey.

To be exact, the Guinness-Spiced Cider Brined Turkey…with mashed red potatoes, brussels sprouts and bacon salad, fresh cranberry sauce, and Johnny Appleseed cocktails.  The “orphans” are supplying the rest.

Amy is bringing stuffing and her famous raisin bread. David is bringing some form of green beans his kids will approve. Bob is bringing dessert. And Olaina is bringing Ella to provide the cuteness while Justin is at work.

Happy Thanksgiving, one and all!

Gregg, Brandon and I went to the Los Alamitos Wings, Bolts,and Something show for a photographer day out.  Gregg had said he’d been a bit under the weather but he thought going out for a nice day of walking would be good.  So we walked down to the base to look at planes and classic cars.

We split up to get lunch.  When I came back to see Gregg, he was holding a bottle of water in line for his food.  He motioned to me to look at his hand.

His hand was shaking. Not a caffeine jitter kind of shaking. It was it’s cold out shivering kind of shaking. But it was 75F and sunny.

“Dude, I know you haven’t tweeted in about an hour, but…” I joked at first. He chuckled. “Do we need to get a paramedic?”

He shook his head and motioned me to come closer. He leaned in and spoke. His voice was coarse.

“And the weirdest thing is I lost my voice just as I ordered my food.”

“Okay. You just had your voice a second ago. You’re really worrying me now.”

“I think it’s the smoke.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? We don’t have to go through this if you don’t want to.”

He waved all of that away.

“Let’s eat first, and then we’ll see,” he managed to croak out.

We blamed his not having had anything to eat earlier for the shakes and the smoke for this voice being gone for a moment. After lunch, his hands weren’t shaking too much any more, but he was still hoarse. We decided to continue on our day out.

The sky was blue. The sun was out. The temperature was just right. Lots of people but it wasn’t crowded. Well, except for the line going through the C-17.  All of us took tons of photos. It was a great time.

Gregg bid farewell and promised to rest up.

As it turned out, his voice never completely returned. He thought it could be a sudden onset of laryngitis, but he continued to feel worse.

By Friday, Gregg was admitted to the hospital.  Satursday was Halloween, and he was still in the hospital. Brandon and I decided to go visit him in costumes.  Gregg did joke about me coming to visit in Slave Leia outfit.  I thought about it but didn’t want to give anybody a heart attack. (David did point out that it would be a perfect place for anyone to have a heart attack. LOL.)  So I donned my Jedi costume instead.

Looking back, boy do I regret chickening out on the Slave Leia costume.

We were told later that they had found a mass in his chest. And soon after he was formerly diagnosed with some type of rare cancer.

Gregg fought it tooth and nail. And we all went along with him on that fight.  Friends and family circled around Gregg to stay with him, take him to his appointments, take care of anything he’d need.  All I could do was to cook Thanksgiving feast for friends and family just in case it would be hist last.  And it was.

We were there along side him all the way through when there was nothing left to do.  I went to see him in the nursing home before I left for my New Zealand trip in early April.  I brought him electronic drum set he could play while in bed, a throw back to our legendary Rock Band sessions at his house.  I held his hand as he napped.  I kissed his bald forehead goodbye, promising him to do a grand presentation of pictures from my trip when I get back, not knowing at all if I would ever see him again.

Gregg passed away while I was still in New Zealand.

As this Sunday was the anniversary of how it all started, it was hard not to think back of the entire journey.

I might have just done one of the geekiest things so far.

A few Saturdays ago, I joined a tweet up tequila brunch via Google+ Hangout.

Flash back about a year or so ago when Annette/@dananner, being the instigator of all things social media, introduced me to a very small group of tweeps who get up with the birds to go to work. Our little group  greet each other daily at the crack of dawn.  And once in a while we’d joke about having tequila for breakfast.

So I said, how about we all meet up for a tequila brunch? We thought it was a brilliant idea, and I managed to find a restaurant who actually has tequila brunch and is located centrally as we would be hauling in from all different directions and distances.

We finally picked a date that most people were free and Malo in Silver Lake as a central location. And the plan was set. But then, the day of the brunch was during the time when SoCal decided to be Seattle for the week. I drove through the storm up to town from Orange County. An hour later, Annette and Hank came in from Lancaster.

That was it for the grand plan of the Great Tequila Brunch Tweet Up.

It’s been about a year since then. And the weather looked like it was going to hold the summer pattern all the way through Halloween at this rate.  I decided to try putting the brunch together again. This time in Downtown LA at Mas Malo, the second location of the same restaurant.

Alas, I missed my own party.

The crab I ate the night before decided to fight back. I couldn’t leave the house.

But being a nerdy little group that we are, we already had plan to have other non-LA-based folks join us over Google+ Hangout.

Annette came to the party armed with her laptop as she withstood some weird looks from the waitstaff when she asked for a table with an outlet because “my friends are joining our brunch online.”

I dragged myself to the home office and popped in to say hi to my online friends (@hankito, @phatemokid, @scbound and @LoveMeDeux ‘s daughter @TheMads), and watch everyone eat for a few minutes before I retreated back to the couch.

Yes, I got to see all of them. Yes I got to see what they were eating. And yes, it was an absolutely nerdy good time.

Sure, I’ve done video chat before, but I haven’t done much of it until Hangout came around, making things easy for everyone.  However, I never did a video chat as a social event.

This little geeky experiment is now giving me an idea to “have a meal” with my friends somewhere else around the world.  You know, we schedule a time (according to the internet, 9 a.m. PST seems to be the golden hour of social media) and bring our meal to our computers.  Heck, we can even cook the same thing and share our experience!

But of course, said friends will have to get themselves a Google+ account.

Would you be interested in doing a virtual Sunday brunch with me sometime?

This year, I am determined to go as the TARDIS incarnated as a cute blue dress [ETA] a blue velvet corset and a tutu with a hat that glows.  Here are my digital “drafts”, a quick and crude Photoshop image of what my outfit could/would look like.

Final draft. In the works!

Original idea.

But out from that came the idea to do a group costume with our friends James and Aurora, and her sister Lee.

I mean, we’ve done a group costume before years ago as the Firefly gang. (That’s Lee as Kaylee.) Nobody knew who we were. And we had no party to go to. But we did it anyway because, well, it’s Halloween!

As for this year, James has dibs on being an Ood.  We’re considering having me making a t-shirt for James’ 1-year-old daughter that says “My name is Melody Pond”. Either Aurora or Lee will be Madame Kovarian. And we’re hoping we can put their 3-year-old son into a little suit and bow tie. If not, we can always make him a little Cyberman.

As for Brandon, after much deliberation and cost analysis, he was talked into be Rory’s fellow Centurion. (He can’t be Rory because that means shaving!)

Upon researching, I found that the cost for Brandon’s outfit will come up to be quite a lot.  While mine will probably be too, but I’d wear that again for other random occasions.  So I asked if he’d ever wear his Centurion outfit again after Halloween.

B: It’s not like I can wear this again any other time. I mean, it’s not the right time period to wear to Renaissance Faire either.

O: You’re right. [...light bulb moment!...] But wait. You CAN be the Centurion at Ren Faire!

B: How?

O: Dude. I’m the fucking TARDIS! You got to the Renaissance because you’re with ME!!!!

B: Oh god. We’re going to one of THOSE people.

You know, folks showing up at Ren Faire in other sci-fi cosplays…because they’re time traveling. While we get a laugh out of that, the whole genre mashing does ticks off some serious Ren Faire folks something fierce.

Did we mention that last year, there was a girl who dressed up as the 4th Doctor?

Brandon pointed her out as she jogged past.  Of course, being the Doctor, she’d be running…

I called out after her, “But Doctor! I thought you regenerated…like 3-4 times now!?”

She turned around, laughing, and gave me some Jelly Babies. It was quite awesome.

Anyhoo. If we were to go through with the TARDIS at the Faire experience, it would only be more worthwhile if our friend BGF Central would follow us around, throwing her combat bible at us.

Ooooh. Funnage!

What are you guys thinking about for Halloween this year? Have you even thought about it yet? ;-D

Last year, I participated in the Wise Guys Events first-ever iPodyssey, an Mp3 flash mob event.  An offshoot of New York City’s famous Improv Everywhere‘s MP3 experiment.

I’m going to do it again this year!

Many of the folks I know from Thrill the World and GuerilLA Improv were there too.  Well, some of us from GLA were already at the rehearsal for the flash mob musical so we just headed down the freeway from there.

It was so much fun!  Running around with all these strangers, following only the voices in your ears.  Other people were looking on like WTF is going on.  It was all kinds of awesome.

Sure, our little group is nothing massive like New York. But hey, LA is representin’, yo!

Oh, and look who’s totally “cheating” at 0:52?

Last year’s musical rehearsal and my running amok with the Wise Guys were some of the awesome things I decided to participate in without a wing man/woman.

Brandon isn’t the type to flash mob and I couldn’t find any other friends to go along.  Usually, I would just blow it off and stay at home, but that all changed in 2008 when I went out to learn Thriller on the beach.

Brandon was in Washington D.C. that weekend for work.  I found out about Thrill the World’s first practice, but I couldn’t find anyone else to go with me. Instead of letting the opportunity go by like I usually do, I decided to just head on out.

For the longest time, I was missing out on things because I didn’t want to go by myself.  And then, that day, I got up and drove to Manhattan Beach to learn to dance Thriller on the sand with complete strangers all by myself.

Duh! I know!

Having grown up alone per se, with my brothers having left home for schools in the UK and US when I was young, I was used to being by myself at home. My mom never let me go out anywhere unaccompanied. Never go alone to anything. It was either with friends, with mom, or our maid would go with me.  So, I got used to the company.  Once I came to the U.S., I didn’t have many friends.  So, if there was no one to go with me to do things, I’d be perfectly happy staying at home.  It was the same thing in high school and college, and even in marriage too.

A total nerd, I tell you.

The one fateful trip in 2008 led me to do the first Thrill the World in LA and then to help lead the following year. And the musical. And the iPodyssey. And many other fun things.

I’ve been missing out on living because I was afraid of going in alone.

No more.

iPodyssey 2011, here I come!

[ETA: August 13: Sadly, I actually didn't make it out to Century City after all. My last weekend of freedom before returning to the workforce, albeit temporary contract, needed to be quiet and low-key.]

What was the most spontaneous thing you’ve done–solo or otherwise?

When I talk about belief, why do you always assume I’m talking about God?

- Shepherd Book, Serenity.

That there was a quote that launched a thousand thoughts over this Memorial Day weekend.

It started on Thursday night when I watched Serenity with some friends.  As a Browncoat—fan of Joss Whedon’s Firefly series and the subsequent movie–I’ve watched this movie several times.

At the core of it was about faith, not in a religious way, but a belief in something so strong that one is willing to live by it and die for it.

A kind of faith I’ve always witnessed in my friend Nora’s quiet grace.

We were up in her family’s cabin this weekend in Big Bear.  We planned to head down the mountains and into the spa on Sunday evening.  Not one to miss church, Nora asked if we could drop her off at church for Saturday mass for an hour or so, knowing that I’m Buddhist and Brandon would burst into flames upon crossing the threshold.

I asked if I can accompany her and said yes, just as she’s always done.

You would ask why a Buddhist girl–given, I was educated in Catholic schools my whole life–would want to go to church where she has no business of going.  Well, for one, I’m in support of my friend.  And more importantly, you could say that the Spirit does move me.  But only when I’m in church with Nora and her family.

Nora and her family really do go by the word of their God.  Their door flung open to this cynical sort-of Buddhist at Christmas time. Their arms embrace me in their house of worship despite being of a different creed.  Whatever I may be, I’m God’s creature too.  And Nora, my best friend, accepts my mad, hedonistic way and puts up with—and forgives– our occasion jabs at Christianity as a whole.  Bless her heart.

As I quietly watched Nora went through the motions in mass, I marvel at the strength of her faith.  It is a part of her.  It is who she is.

That makes me wonder about my own faith.  What do I believe in, if I believe in anything at all?

For damn sure, organized religion isn’t for me.

I could call myself a lapsed Theravada Buddhist. But could one be considered a religious person if she actually disagrees and/or questions parts of the doctrine?

I was raised to be a Buddhist in a country that Buddhism is a national religion.  My grandmother was definitely more religious than anyone I know.  My mom was more religious than any of us in the family as my dad is more of a scientist.  Some of her friends are even more so.  I can’t really blame my disinterest on my generation either as some of my friends are even more religious than me. My “cousins” go to temple almost weekly with their parents while I could barely force myself into one once a year for the anniversary of my mom’s death.

I believe in Buddha’s teachings and believe that karma is real, so I’m very Buddhist in that regards.  I’m a Buddhist because I believe in doing no harm unto others. I believe that what goes around comes around.  I believe in the consequences of my action.  I believe in moderation, taking the “Middle Path”. (Hey, I said believe in it…doesn’t mean I practice all the time!)  I believe in generosity.  I believe in finding happiness within myself.

What I don’t believe in is the structure of the religion itself.

Even when I was young, I always wonder why women couldn’t become monks.  Why did we have to do so well in this life so we could be reborn as a guy so we could be a monk to have a better shot at nirvana?  Why can’t I just do really good now and get to nirvana? Nobody can answer that for me.  It’s just the way it is.

I found some research that said that women actually weren’t banned from the practices and were actually female monks back in the early days of Buddhism.  Somehow through time, we were written out of the book, quite literally.

Gee, poorly transcribed and/or translated holy text handed down from generations?  Why does that sound familiar?

My last straw in all of this was the sermon that was given when I went to the temple for my mom’s anniversary a few years back.

The monk was talking about how monks are our gateway to nirvana—how supporting the monks and the temple nets you more karma points than doing anything else on your own.

Are you kidding me?

Did he pretty much just say, “Yeah, you can feed the hungry on your own and it’s like putting pennies in the piggy bank. But if you feed the monks or donate money to the temple, it’s like getting your karma matched by corporate and you’ll get to your goal sooner”?

I’m sorry, Mommy, that you will not get the crap ton of good karma by way of me donating to these monks.

And since when has making karma become some kind of sports or something you expect to do?  Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of doing good if you’re doing it for the reward of good karma?

That was the moment I lost my faith in organized Buddhism.  And that’s why, it’s probably more appropriate to call me a Theravada Buddhism-based spiritualist.

So after all of this, what do I believe in enough to die for?  What do I have faith in?

I have faith in being of service.  Making someone’s day a little better, that I have faith in.

My Mater Dei’s friends and teachers are going to die of shock.  LOL.  My Catholic school also drilled into us the importance of service, not only to God but to the community.  After all, our motto is “Serviam”—“I will serve”.  Sure, in the most religious of context, it meant “I will serve God”.  But you do that by serving God’s children.

But hey, kindness and compassion is also in Buddha’s teaching.  That’s where it all started, I am sure.  But the bottom line is the same.

It’s not just about volunteering or raising fund for the poor, to me, everything I do to help someone counts.  Holding open a door or spotting someone his/her lunch.  Pitch in a buck when someone is a little short.  Even doling out random compliments to strangers, that ought to make his/her day.

Brandon is also a generous man.  More than once he’s offered to help strangers jump-start their cars.  When no one would stop to assist a bicyclist who crashed on the sidewalk, he did.  And that’s why I love him.

Whatever we can do that ends in putting a smile on someone’s face, that’s what I believe in.

The Cult of the Smiley Faces?  I think it has a nice ring to it.

What do you believe in?

Also a quote of Shepherd Book's | Flickr @ Of the Fountain

While many people have horror stories from their proms, I was fortunate enough to not have all the drama or the aftermath. e.g. “My prom date never called me again” or “That was so romantic then he dumped me” etc. I actually had a great time and no consequences.

Ah. The magic of going to prom with your best guy friend. (Well, he did come out later. So technically, my best gay.)

I didn’t expect to go to prom. At all. After all, my two years of American high school life went without anyone asking me to any of the formals. Nor did anyone ask me out on a date. Heck, I even had a boy turned me down for Sadie Hawkins. But then again, I was reaching for that one.

But you’ve gotta give me credit for asking my crush to Sadie Hawkins. The boy was the son of my host mom’s friends who carpooled with us occasionally and even drove me to/from school once in a while.  He was smart, handsome, and popular, and has a great voice.  He would go on to become a rock star.  I knew I didn’t have a chance in hell but I did ask anyway.  A nice guy that he was, he turned me down gently.  I think he said he was already going with someone else.  Then again, he was always nice to me. I’m sure he was taking pity on this dorky nerd from Thailand which probably dented his reputation a little. I’m also sure he was instructed by his parents to be nice to me. LOL.

Anyways. So prom came. I really knew my odds then so I wasn’t going to ask him again. Or anyone else for that matter. I’d always been at home when everyone else was out partying or going to formals. One more wasn’t going to kill me. I’ve seen Carrie and I’ve seen Pretty In Pink. I was sure if I was asked, someone’s waiting for me with a bucket of blood at the entrance. And I wasn’t going to prom solo because I didn’t have a Ducky to fall back on.

These American boys don’t like me so they don’t ask me to prom. I get it. I’m moving on. There are boys in college…right?

My host mom, though, was concerned that I wouldn’t have a complete American high school experience if I didn’t go to prom. But she also didn’t push it.

Then, Michael caught wind of the situation.

Michael was one of my very first friends and the first guy friend I had.  (And of course, after high school I found also that he was my first best gay friend!) He was quite upset when he found out that I had given up on prom altogether. He was already committed to going to prom with his friend who graduated last year–she wanted to go to prom again.

Michael changed the plan with said friend so that he could take me.

“You haven’t been to a single formal!” he said. “And you didn’t come all the way from Thailand to NOT go to prom.”

So, prom was suddenly on. And I had a week to get a dress and all that good times. My host mom didn’t have time to take me to the mall that week. In stepped the mom of another boy we carpooled with. A fairy godmother to my Cinderalla, if you will. She said she always wanted a daughter she could take to shop for prom. It worked out for the both of us.

My strapless, black ball gown, while getting all the rave from the carpool lady and my host mom, didn’t past my mom’s approval. It was a good thing she didn’t see the dress it until prom pictures came out a few weeks later. Hehe.

Michael came to pick me up with red rose corsage. We shared the limo with a few other friends. The details there are fuzzy to me now.

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter and awesome dancing. And boy did I remember the dancing! It’s a good thing Michael liked to dance. When most girls were sat out because their dates wouldn’t dance, Mikey and I owned the floor.

When I stepped out of the limo that night, Michael gave me a peck on the cheek. That was the first time a boy kissed me anywhere.

As for the rock star, he actually never got to go to prom. As rumors went, he and a few others were caught smelling like booze at one of the school events. So he wasn’t allowed to go to prom. Whoops.

It was funny that 10 years later our class reunion was at the same hotel we had our prom. And Michael and I were once again reunited.

And we danced like we did in 1995.

Me and Michael. 10 years after prom.

How about your prom? What was it like?

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

Cupcake: The Lobster Pot / Rock: The Poster List

I have a copy printed out with a smiley face wearing the crown, and posted in my office to look at.  Because, just like everyone else, some days you need a little bit of a mantra to get you through.  (And yeah, the view does help a little bit.)

Outside of the office in the tower, things do get crazy, people do get mean, and life does go off the rails.  Sometimes the combination of all of that just make you want to throw yourself out that very window I look out on.  But as long as you are keeping calm and carrying on, you’re moving forward.  Keep the forward momentum going, working with what you’ve got, and don’t look back.

However, I have learned my lesson in carrying on mindlessly. Exactly what I did when I went off the reservation a few years ago when my mom died.

I pushed through the pain of losing my mother, put on a front of strength, and bulldozed my way through it all.  Meanwhile I left Brandon behind in my wake, hurt, and all I did was looking over my shoulder and told him to suck it up and keep pace.

It wasn’t a good place to be.  That version of keeping calm and carrying on was absolutely selfish and hurtful.

You live. You learn.  And you do better next time.

Now that I’m back in the “Shield Up, Warp Speed” mode once again for a reason I can only reveal to you in person, I want to be mindful where I step.

I want to make sure my march forward in life doesn’t cause any trouble for anyone this time around.  And instead of clamming up and carrying on by myself like I did in the past, I have reached out for help and guidance.

And so far, I have been very fortunate to have great friends and wonderful mentors.  My friends came through like Gandalf at first light outside of Helm’s Deep.  Full of light and hope…and air of victory.

Image from McKellen.com - Let's go kick some ass!

And then Brandon held me and told me everything is going to be alright.

Keep calm and carry on.

It’s better to do that with friends helping you out.