Magic in Charity: Every $10 made at Siamese Pixie Store, #2, #3, #4, and
geek stuff PLUS whatever I made with Adsense is sent to Thai Red Cross, my mom's favorite charity. As of June 1, we are at $2.56 toward the next $10 and so far have donated $30.
We don’t hate kids. And we make great auntie and uncle. We just like to play with them and hand them off to the parents at the end of the day.
We adore Brandon’s two nieces age 8 and 11. We can hardly wait to hang out with Aurora and James’ 2-year-old Dresden and baby Chloe. Olaina and Justin’s Ella is still too little to play with but we didn’t mind hanging out with her too.
I’m quite sure the fact that they are relations–or practically relations, our tolerance and patience for them are a lot higher than for that of complete strangers’ kids.
However, we don’t offer to baby sit the kids on our own. Well, Brandon is okay with taking Dresden to the park for an hour or two, and Little D and I get along swell playing inside the house. But overall, we never want to be left alone with the young ones for more than a few hours at a time before our patience run out and our heads explode.
We chose to be child-free for a reason. And our friends know it.
Yet, it’s a constant question we have to dodge here and back in Thailand. My dad especially. I haven’t the heart to tell him, so my answer is usually, “I don’t have the money.” My mom’s friends know I didn’t want kids. Actually, and quite surprisingly, they were supportive of that choice.
I started to realize I didn’t even want kids back in college. I still remembered the first time my ex-boyfriend mentioned our future children. That freaked the fuck out of me out but I played along. Hahaha. Yeah, sure, honey, a boy and a girl, right? Wonderful. But in my head, Holy shit he already talks about KIDS?! God I can’t have kids?! I don’t want any kids!!
You can’t imagine the relief when Brandon brought up early on when we started dating that he didn’t want kids.
So far, our choice to be child-free has never been a problem in our social life because we can still hang with our friends who have kids.
We had Aurora and the kids over for dinner often. And we were perfectly okay with going to the movies with Brandon’s nieces when we were in New Mexico.
On those certain days we weren’t up for kids, we politely decline the invitation for their company. Most friends understand. Some don’t.
We are child-free BY CHOICE. And that choice includes choosing to not be around a child when we don’t feel like it. Because if we want to be with a child all the time, we would’ve chosen to have one.
We respect parents. We do. I mean, we can barely stand up to Dresden’s rambunctiousness for a few hours and Aurora has to do this all day with Chloe clinging on to her? Holy crap! And then there are friends and single parents who also work full time on top of being a mom/dad. I mean, seriously. How do you guys manage all of that?
Props. Mad props to you, parents.
We respect also your choice to have children. And we thank you for bringing your wonderful kids into this world and even share them with us sometimes.
We hope that you respect our choice to not have children–or not be with one when we don’t want to–as well.
When disaster strikes somewhere in the world, if the media and celebrity is on board especially, suddenly you see the surge of donations and fundraisers everywhere.
But what about the everyday? Where did that overflowing of generosity and kindness go?
Last week, my bus buddy was sitting with a bunch of other commuters waiting for the bus. There was no room to sit so I was standing around the corner. Once these folks got up to get on their bus, I moved in to sit down. There was a purse laying next to my bus buddy and I knew for sure that wasn’t hers.
I asked anyway, “That’s not your purse, is it?”
My bus buddy gasped. “Oh my gosh! I think that lady left her purse!”
A young Asian chick standing right by turned to me, “Oh yeah, she went on to that bus a second ago.”
My bus buddy and the Asian Chick kept looking at the purse and looked around. None of them wasn’t going to pick it up, it seemed.
So I did.
The Asian chick put her nose to her blackberry and started walking away. With much interest, my bus buddy watched me moving in to investigate the purse that laid right next to her.
It’s like watching “What would you do?” show on ABC. This is the show that fake a situation to see how people would react. At this juncture, it would’ve been a show where nobody was going to do anything.
I went through the purse, found a wallet with all kinds of IDs with no cash or credit card. There was a cellphone holder in the purse and fortunately no actual phone itself. So at least she has her phone. I found her insurance cards with her company on it. While on my bus, I looked up the company and and called. I told the receptionist I had recovered this lady’s wallet. She gave me the lady’s cell phone number and took mine.
My bus buddy signaled at me from the back of the bus to see if I actually made a connection with the purse owner, and I nodded.
The following morning, the purse lady called me and we met at Starbucks.
Apparently, she was on the phone talking to someone the entire time and didn’t realize one of her many bags had slipped off her shoulder, and soon after that her batteries went dead. That also explained why the neither the receptionist or I could get a hold of her that evening.
“Can I hug you?” she asked. LOL.
Now, of all of this ordeal, here’s what I don’t understand.
Both my bus buddy and the Asian chick were just staring at the purse. Neither one was going to pick it up. I mean, what if I wasn’t there? They were just going to leave it there?
I mean, the Asian chick definitely was going to leave it there since my bus buddy sits right next to it, I’m pretty sure. She was already started to move away after she told us, people who stood next to the purse, that she had seen the owner left to get on the bus.
Would you want someone to look on by if that was YOUR purse?
This isn’t even Haiti, folks. It’s somebody you stood next to not more than 5 minutes ago.
I’ve seen this similar thing happen before. Someone dropped something without knowing it. 10 people saw it and nobody was going to tell that person until one brave soul did. A person came running to the bus yelling for it, 10 people turned to look and heard him but did nothing. Once in a while, someone helped yell or wave or something but not always the case. On the crowded bus, nobody was getting up for anybody.
Seriously. Where did the human decency and kindness go these days? We’ve become such a “Me Me Me” society. I mean, even the giving to the disaster, for some people, it’s because it’s trendy at the time, not about they actually care.
Thailand had a celebrity-packed fundraiser for Haiti with drew quite and outrage. Um, helloooo there are Thai people who need help just as much and you’re sending your money where?
The giving and the kindness suddenly become a hip thing to do; not THE thing to do.
I’m sure there are still decent human beings out there who would always do the right thing and step up to help. I know at least 3 guys on my bus who would’ve given up their seats if the bus is full. I know that Brandon and Justin and his friends would step up to help those in need of help.
I mean, yesterday we were walking back to our car at the farmers market. A lady was loading stuff into the truck and there was a huge cart full of stuff on the floor next to her. Brandon gave me the keys to the car and he himself ran over to the lady to help her put all of that into the truck. Loads of people walked by doing nothing.
These little moments when a door is held open, a dropped item returned, or a seat given up that restores my faith in humanity. These moments are what keeping me from becoming a complete misanthrope. (Right now, I’m just a little bitter, heh.)
How about you? Have you seen any act of kindness recently? Or perhaps you’ve done something good yourself?
TED conference is where the brightest minds came together to share their ideas. I’ve heard of the event last year for the first time, and have been wanting to attend ever since.
And I finally got to do it this past week at TEDxUSC, an independently organized event hosted by USC.
In a small world, Amy G told me about her friend who were going to TED who turned out to know @FStop23. As a matter of fact, dude was the one who told @Fstop23 about the conference, who then reminded me to apply for the invitation. I, then, in turn, told my friend Janetta about it. The next thing we knew, our little posse worked out a great deal. @Fstop23’s gang, having a more flexible schedule than the rest of us, secured our seats in Bovard Auditorium. (5th row from the stage, better than my CEO’s seat, no less. Not too shabby there, gang!) I showed up with lunch for one of the gang and snacks in hand.
We’re talking innovation here, so I baked Pim’s The Morning After Banana Bread in muffin form. Ah, the glorious blend of bananas, espresso, and Jameson! Not only I got to feed my little crew, I offered some to the people sitting nearby and some random students as well.
See? Ideas AND muffins worth sharing!
Anyways. TEDxUSC’s format was mostly live speakers with a few videos of TED presentations, USC student films, and musical performances.
My mind was blown.
So much energy in the place. And so positive! Bovard auditorium has never felt so large AND small all at the same time. I mean, there’s so much more out there to know and to discover that you feel so tiny, but yet all the spirit of discoveries and innovation makes you feel larger in life, like you too can do ANYTHING.
Like Woodstock for the brainiacs.
Peace. And free ideas. Rock on, man.
I’m not going to recap everything from the event because they’ll post all of that up on TED website soon. However, these are the ones that made an impact on me.
Then we were in space with Dr. Nicholas Patrick, NASA astronaut. How your perception of everything changed when you’re in space. Like the value of letting go and holding on. One of the most intriguing things he said: You can see the [environmental] policies from space. How the policies are affecting the earth. We can’t see it down here but they can see it from up there.
And while in space, we explored a little further with Paul Frommer, the creator of the Na’vi language for Avatar. Instead of discussing the language, he instead introduced us to how to use Na’vi in romantic situations. Didn’t see that one coming, did ya?
The video of Temple Grandin’s presentation at earlier TED conference was very fascinating. “She makes the case that the world needs people on the autism spectrum: visual thinkers, pattern thinkers, verbal thinkers, and all kinds of smart geeky kids,” says the description. Ms. Grandin herself said that the world needs all kinds of minds. And the mentors are essentials in bringing in more great minds. Funny how in WIRED magazine a few months ago, Thokil Sonne advocates for the same thing for the 12 shocking ideas that could change the world.
Michael Yap, CEO at the Media Development Authority of Singapore, talked about new media in sharing experience. The whole putting another billion people online is one thing. But then he showed a video of a “Food Lab” which has sensors in your ladle and in your pot, which transmits to the other pot and ladle so you can learn to cook, knowing exactly how much force you need to stir a pot at what temperature. I’m not alone in thinking that it was a little creepy of a way to learn to cook.
Food should be something personal. Look at all the processed foods out of the factories, they’re nothing like a home cooked or even restaurant meal. Human element is needed to make food good. Oh yeah, I’m off on a foodie tangent there for a bit. But see? Wouldn’t have stopped to think about how I or we learn to cook and what food really means until Michael showed us that.
Then there’s a sit-down chat wiht Jeb Corliss, the Human Bird. Dude puts on a flying squirrel suit and jumps off planes. He said it’s not because he has no fear but that he harnesses the power of his fear into training and meticulous planning of every tiny little steps to ensure that everything goes right. If you do that enough, you have nothing to fear. While I can understand what he’s saying, I still think dude’s fucking nuts. And awesome.
And of course, Al Seckel. At this point, we’ve been in the auditorium for 4 hours now. And then Al came in and fucked with all of our brains with his sensory and visual illusions. It started with all these crazy visual stuff then it was also audio. You know, Stairways to Heaven going backward on its own was mumbo jumbo but when you look at the “hidden lyrics” while you listen, suddenly you hear every word that wasn’t there. But all of that comes down to how your perception was formed (by the age of 8 thereabouts) and what we think we believe in. Total trip.
We closed with the behind-the-scene of OK Go’s Rube Goldberg music video with Adam Sadowsky of Syyn Labs himself with a video intro from the band. (Tricked me. For a second I thought OK Go was REALLY behind the curtains! Boo on you, Adam!)
Like that wasn’t enough. There was an interactive reception afterward with “toys” you can play with like interactive physical therapy game that needs you to move to accomplish the task–a gentler Wii, if you will–and then there’s this laser thing that traces your image and projects it onto a wall (look at Janetta below playing with her laser shadow), and some models showing off wearable arts by Psycho Girlfriend like a dress made out of plastic tubings or pool foam “noodles”.
Now, at the reception.
<rant>
Us paid customers to TEDxUSC got red badges and no wrist band. I’m assuming that they too assumed we were all of age. Students in attendance were carded and given wristbands if they are over 21.
It is a blessing and a curse of looking like a college student even though I graduated from that very same college 10 years ago. The bartender wouldn’t serve me. because I had no wristband. I told him we red badgers didn’t get one so here’s my ID. He refused to check my ID and brushed me completely aside.
Look, motherfucker, if I was an underage trying to get a drink, would I BEG you to check my ID!? I PAID to be here at this event and have been in the fucking auditorium for 6 fucking hours. AND YOU WON’T SERVE ME MY MOTHER FUCKING WINE?!?!
Yep. I almost went Woodstock 1999 on his ass.
I found another bartender who listened to my situation, kindly looked at my red badge, and checked my ID. Wine was served with a smile AND an apology for inconvenience.
The kicker? I went back to the motherfucker who refused service earlier with my empty plastic cup of red wine and asked for a refill. “Of course, miss. Here you go.” Not event asking for that godforsaken wristband he couldn’t live without a half hour ago. Whatever.
</rant>
Despite the ID incident, the event was great. Our little gang had a great time.
I ran into someone I know during the break. I asked how he was liking the event. He said that he didn’t understand why the program should be interrupted by music and student films. And he thought not all speakers were worthy because they weren’t all innovation that are practical. What’s with that human bird guy or that autistic lady? A kid with looping electric violin? Really? For business executives like him, he said, he felt like he was cheated out of his precious time to spent 2 out of the 6 hours with what he considered nonsense instead of finding out more about cutting edge innovation.
My friend Janetta just looked at him and said, “You’re not at the right conference then. That’s not what TED is about.”
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.
I went to my college friend’s wedding yesterday. I knew she is religious and as I received the invitation, I found out that he is too. It’s a match made by God, essentially.
I have been to many weddings: a full mass in beautiful cathedral and Christian-light ceremony which I really don’t mind. I’ve been to the we-made-our-own-tradition, and this-ain’t-about-God/gods ones, and those are usually quite fun.
But this one totally takes the Holy Roller cake.
It’s a little bit frightening when every sentence of the introduction of the ceremony had either God or Jesus Christ in it. And then realized that most of the people there were from the bride and groom’s respective churches.
The speech about marriage being a union of a man and a woman as intended by God, now that I came to expect. I remembered going to a Catholic wedding once with my gay “fiance” Cheech as my date. (Hey, Cheech did say if Brandon wasn’t going to marry me, he would do it just so I didn’t have to leave the country. So yeah, he was my gay fiance! Haha!) We were late so we were in the back of the church anyway, but when it got to the man and woman part, we were rolling our eyes and stifling our giggles in the back.
Here, I rolled my eyes to myself and softly “pssshh”. In hindsight, the folks I heard singing the hymn behind me later on probably were damning me to hell the entire time I made side comments like that.
Especially during the submissive wife section of the speech.
I thought for a second I had traveled back through time. It was said at least 3 times that the wife is made out of the husband, and must be submissive to him and follow him. He is to follow Jesus and she is to follow him. He may not understand you or anger you, but you should listen because he is your husband and you have to trust that he is right.
Did the wind blow so hard we landed in 1910? I wasn’t really sure. Until the kid next to me stared playing with his iPhone out of boredom.
To each, his/her own flavor, I understand it and respect it.
Another friends’ wedding was the complete opposite to this one. Theirs was a spiritual union. They mentioned that love is for all and marriage is for all as well. That the couple would listen to each other and be supportive of each other’s choices. Perhaps those on the other side of the gay marriage fence would be offended by someone turning their wedding into a bit of a political soap box. Well, that’s how I feel about getting Jesus preached at.
But, man, having to sit on a windy and chilly rooftop for one-hour while getting Jesus beating into me totally gave me a glimpse into what my personal hell would look like.
This lovely heavy-handed Christian flavor also continued through the reception which is, you might have already guessed, a dry one.
Thank GOD the bar was only a few steps away. I kept running into the bride’s cousins there. LOL.
However, the redemption came with the Chinese banquet.
11 fucking courses of fantastic Chinese food, y’all.
There were only 8 of us at the table up through Course 4 before 2 of them left. We did pretty good considering one of the friends doesn’t eat seafood.
Appetizers, and there were five: roasted duck, jelly fish salad, seaweed salad, marinaded tofu and mushrooms, barbecued pork, and sliced beef.
Honey walnut shrimp
Scallops, snow peas, carrots
This green soup with seafood bits in it. Funny part is I asked the waiter what soup it is. He said it’s vegetarian. Me: Oh, ok…wait is that shrimp? Him: Yes. Me: Er…ok…
Beef and asparagus sauteed in some wonderful sauce and served in this crispy noodle bowl. Our friend Ed called in “Poetry on a Plate”.
Wonderfully crispy skin fried roast chicken with wonderfully moised meat, served with shrimp crackers.
Abalone with bok choy and shitake mushrooms.
Steamed whole fish with ginger and other spices. De-boned whole at the table. It was pretty cool. Sweet, sweet fish. So very tasty.
Egg fried rice with whatever was left in it: a little barbecued pork, some shrimps, some scallops, some chicken.
Mango pudding. Lovely, not too sweet little cups of heaven.
Cake: you either get chocolate cake with whipped cream filling or yellow cake with strawberry cream.
.
The holy rolling ceremony may have turned me off. But the food definitely got me thanking the Lord!
And I’m also thanking God to have blessed me with the diversity in my group of friends. So far, nobody kills anybody over their political or religious believes.
Today, the Universe decided that it hates people in my life.
1. Brandon tore his calf muscle
As he changed the oil on his car on Friday, Brandon discovered some coolant leakage. Upon further inspection by the auto shop, there are more than just that. We think the Anniversary accident knocked things loose. So, this morning, instead of waking up to drive me to my stop, the Mister decided to sleep in a little. I left my car 5 blocks down at my bus stop.
As he was walking over to the car, Brandon stepped off the curb and, according to his ER doctor, probably landed wrong on his heel. He heard something popped and he was in excruciating pain and couldn’t put his foot down. Being a Marine, dude sucked it up, hobbled across the 6 lanes to the other side, then his body went into a bit of shock and he sat down and passed out for a second. He then proceeded to hobble some more to the car, got in, calmly called me, and drove himself to the ER about 8 blocks down.
I received the call around 8:30. By the way, I’m in Downtown LA, 25 miles away, with no easy way to get home at that time. You see, my special commuter bus runs 3 times into town and twice out in the evening. If you need to get back any other time, you’ll have to take the Disneyland bus to Norwalk Station and either catch 2 more buses to get to my house or someone else have to come get you from the station.
Thank GOD for my former bus buddy Patty who retired about a month ago. I called her asked for a ride and she was available. Now, skip to read #2 and come back to read the rest of this.
Patty dropped me off at the ER and I waited for a good hour before Brandon hobbled out on crutches. Torn calf muscle, he said, and possible torn tendon but they don’t know that yet. And now we were off to his physician to get a referral to see a specialist and get an MRI or something else. His doctor gave him a shot of stuff and sent us home with vicodin.
2. Patty’s car died on the way to rescue me
After she hung up with me, my friend Patty went to finish her errands. Her car sputtered and died on the way home. Thank GOD her sister was home, so she drove over to sit with Patty’s car until AAA arrives so Patty could use her car to come get me.
3. A coworker had to go to the hospital
Meanwhile, as I ran from work to come home to take care of Brandon, a coworker apparently got ill enough to need to be rushed to the hospital.
4. Burbank DMV’s computer system went down
My boss took the morning off to go to her DMV appointment. System was down so no appointment could be kept. She pretty much wasted her morning.
5. The bus before my usual home bound bus broke down
Ana took the bus into town with me this morning. She usually takes a different bus or she would drive. However, she was getting on the earliest bus home. She waited, and waited, and started to get panicky about the bus home. As she found out later, when my usual bus showed up, the one she was waiting for has broken down. So she was on a super crowded bus back, behind her usual schedule.
After the Golden Globes, I was really, REALLY afraid Avatar was going to take the Oscars. Yes, I like the movie. It was an incredible escape, an experience you wish every movie could provide.
But the Globes gave Avatar Best Picture? What were they smoking? I mean, it’s a fantastic technological leap forward in movie re-making for Pocahontas/Fern Gully/Dances with Wolves. That doesn’t deserve Best Picture. That kind of voting usually we leave for the Academy of the Easily Persuaded.
Well, this time, the Academy is also easily persuaded but not by the biggest movie of the year but by the most critically-hyped film which the Globes ignored.
Topsy turvy, my little world of Pop Culture has become. I blame it on the global warming. Or dying bees. Or something.
But anyway. Hooray for The Hurt Locker!
Not sure if it “deserves” the award yet, but having the first female director winning as Oscar totally kicks ass.
It is odd to go into the Oscars and not having seen the Best Pictures films because I didn’t do the AMC marathon this year. 2 Saturdays of 5 movies? I just couldn’t do it. I managed to have seen 4 out of 10–Avatar, Inglorious Basterds, Up, and District 9–which will be 5 out of 10 as soon as I pop The Hurt Locker in to the DVD player. It’s been sitting here by TV for the past 2 weeks. (Sorry, Netflix!)
So I go back to my method of buzz judging. And boy, my buzz meter still works beautifully. As a matter of fact, it works so well that I’m starting to think that my personal judgment is obviously flawed. If you look at my recent years of prediction when I actually saw all Best Picture nominees and a few other, I’ve been horribly wrong.
This year, going in half blind, I only missed 5 out of 24. Back to the 79.17% accuracy of 2007, baby! (2008 was the most disastrous at 50% and 2009 was 58%)
I was on the spot guessing The Cove over Food Inc. for Best Doc–despite my strong feelings for Food Inc.–and Young Victoria over Nine for Costume Design. It usually doesn’t fail to bet on a lavish period pieces for Costume Design. And, of course, the luckiest guess of Music by Prudence for Short Doc.
Foreign-language film, as of recent years, has always been a wild guess. I went with A Prophet. I blame Entertainment Weekly for that one. The sound awards, usually go to the big bang/boom movies so naturally I picked Star Trek (editing) and Transformers (mixing) and missed on both account. I guess there are more bombs in The Hurt Locker than I thought. And of course, a big fan of Wallace & Gromit, I cheered for them and was wrong. The surprise miss was Best Actress. I thought for sure Gabourey would go home with the Oscars.
Oh, and I don’t know who else was offended by the Orchestra’s choice to play “I am woman” when Kathryn Bigelow exited the stage for Best Director. I mean, it is definitely a “You go, girl!” moment, but “I am woman”?!? Really???
However, watching the reaction shot of Jim Cameron after losing both Best Director and Best Picture to his ex-wife is priceless. Heehee…
Final note:
Dear Sam Worthington,
You know I love you. I’m absolutely, hopelessly charmed by your toothy smile which you seem to have forgotten to do when a non-movie camera is pointed at you. You know I adore your accent and your gentle eyes. Did I mention your pretty, pretty mouth…yeah…
However, sweetie, you were up in the stage presenting the Academy Awards chewing gum.
First you stop smiling. And now you can’t stop chewing gum.
My fantasy life with you crumbles to the floor under the weight of reality. What a shame.
I’m no literacy scholar. Nor am I someone who’d go through 100 books a year.
So when I say I hate a book, you don’t have to agree with me. I don’t expect you to.
I have a policy when it comes to reading a book. Once I start, I must finish even if I don’t enjoy it all that much. You know, the whole finish what you’ve started thing.
There have been occasions, however, when I just couldn’t go through with it. Sometimes it was because it was boring. Sorry, Dickens. The Great Expectation will be read someday…as soon as I can stop falling asleep every 5 pages. Like Reading Lolita in Tehran. I didn’t even get to actually reading Lolita, I don’t think. About the 5th time it was complained about the horrible situation for women, I was done. We got nowhere for 1/3 of the book already. Sheesh.
Sometimes it’s the writing style…which you’ll read about later on.
At least with these that I quit early, I didn’t feel like I wasted my time. You know, it’s like tasting something you weren’t sure you’d like. If you throw it away now, then you only have a little bad taste in your mouth. But if you go finish it, you will suffer the pain and hate yourself for having gone through with it.
And that is exactly what happened with the first book of 2010, Anne Rice’s Angel Time.
It was one of those that I was hooked into the story and the characters just to get let down at the end. Those that I really want my time AND money back after I finished. I am so angry and disappointed to have invested my emotions and time (and money!) into it that I do want to burn that fucking book down so nobody else has to suffer the same fate.
First on the burn list, Angel Time.
From the cover, Angel Time showed some promises. The jacket grabbed my attention while I browsed through limited new fictions in Asia Books in Bangkok. I grabbed this from Anne Rice’s website.
The novel opens in the present. At its center: Toby O’Dare—a contract killer of underground fame on assignment to kill once again. A soulless soul, a dead man walking, he lives under a series of aliases—just now: Lucky the Fox—and takes his orders from “The Right Man.”
Into O’Dare’s nightmarish world of lone and lethal missions comes a mysterious stranger, a seraph, who offers him a chance to save rather than destroy lives. O’Dare, who long ago dreamt of being a priest but instead came to embody danger and violence, seizes his chance. Now he is carried back through the ages to thirteenth-century England, to dark realms where accusations of ritual murder have been made against Jews, where children suddenly die or disappear . . . In this primitive setting, O’Dare begins his perilous quest for salvation, a journey of danger and flight, loyalty and betrayal, selflessness and love.
Intriguing, right? So naturally, I ordered it when I came back. Amazon ratings gave it 4 stars. Brandon was also interested to read it. Today’s Assassin in 13th century? Yep, we’d really like to know how he’d pull that off.
Brandon got no more than a few chapters in when he gave up. Now, you have to understand the the Mister is an avid sci-fi reader. He’s willing to suspend disbelief for the fully fabricated story. However, the inaccuracy of something we know as true will drive him bonkers. One point he couldn’t get over is how Anne Rice would say that the Mission Inn in Riverside is “a couple of hours away” from Beverly Hills and San Juan Capistrano. Seriously, lady. Have you actually DRIVEN in Southern California? It definitely takes more than 2 hours from 90210 to the 909. Ditto to SJC.
Brandon also warned me that the writing is very tedious. Apparently Anne is spending time describing every crack in the beams on the high dome ceiling held together by 18th century glue made out of prized race horses. Or something like that.
Having more tolerance to narrative than the hubby does, I was determined not to let the book defeat me.
Yep. Tedious is correct. I even caught Anne rice using the same phrase twice within a few paragraphs from each other a few times. Still I soldiered on. A quarter of a book in and he still hasn’t killed anyone yet, but he’s getting to it. Okay fine. I’ll read a little more. And then the Angel showed up and we were introduced to how Toby came to be Lucky the Fox, the lute playing, history book reading, mission visiting, quietly praying assassin.
THAT was the part that got me very interested. Cutting through the tedious tiny details were action, tension, and drama. Fantastic fun! Now I know all of Toby’s skills, I was actually excited to see what he’d do in the 13th century. Oh boy! It’s going to be worth trudging through the first half the book!
Not so much. Actually, it’s the second half of the book I want to burn. Talk about TEDIOUS! Do you really need 3 chapters to tell a back story? SERIOUSLY? And predictable. I mean at some point you can tell how it’s going to end. I skimmed through the second half because I already know how it is going to end.
The first kicker. All the stuff you’ve learned about Toby before, what he could do, none was used here. He didn’t play the lute. He didn’t use his master of disguise skills since the Angel provides him with magical assistance whenever it is convenient. He didn’t kill anyone. All he did was, well, a Lord of the Rings journey: go here to get the story which will lead you to over there which you will have to bring something back here etc. WTF?!?
The final kicker. One thing I didn’t see coming happened. And dude woke up in present time with a few pages left in the back. If that was all dream, I will send a VERY angry letter to Anne Rice. It wasn’t all a dream though, I have to say. But there’s a bombshell. And the bombshell is contrite as hell and I kind of already guessed that too.
I truly hate it when I was strung along for the ride and there was nothing at the end. No resolution. No answers. Not even a fucking t-shirt.
Yeah, I’m talking to you too, Dean Koontz. *mumblegrumble* Never explain that stupid slow room in Odd Thomas. Don’t tell me it’s in the sequel because you already lost me there, sir. And that slipping through the slot in time thing in From the Corner of His Eyes wins shark jumping medal. *mumblegrumble*
In case of Angel Time, I’ve been strung along and driven off the cliff a long time ago–I just didn’t know when I was going to hit the ground.
Now, back to the fact that I also have books I couldn’t get through because of writing styles.
I must be truly too dumb to appreciate the Pulitzer Prize winning The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz.
Again hooked by the glowing review everywhere for the young writer and the premise of a multicultural sci-fi nerd teen. The writing style is what gets me. I know it was supposed to be the point of view of Oscar with all of his Spanglish etc. Then there’s some Spanish thrown in for good measures without any translation. But my GOD it was really hard to read, disruptive and frustrating.
I wanted to give it another try after I was done with Angel Time but of course only a few pages in and I was reminded once again why I didn’t get through it in the first place.
There’s another critical acclaimed book like that that I bought years ago–it was a HUGE volume too–that I didn’t event get past a 1/4 of it. It was supposed to be about wizards in 18/19th century England that were going to war. Or something like that. I don’t even remember the title. Nor whom I given the book too. The book was written like a term paper. TONS of footnotes and even more notes in the footnotes. Disruptive as hell and just wayyyy too much information.
Would I toss that Oscar Wao into the fire with Angel Time? I might as well. The fire’s already roaring.
And I think Brandon would throw Michael Crichton’s Timeline in after that. He’s STILL pissed off about the cop-out ending even now.
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!!!
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*
