cindy's world

Friday turned out to be a salvaged day. I went from this in the morning…

Bailiff: I just want to compliment you on the way you look today. Nice outfit, your hair, your makeup…
Me: Thanks, but what’s the point? I mean, really. What’s the point.

…to lots of fun at work, lots of laughing, a tad of drama between men, and a good time at Outback during happy hour after work. I finally met someone that I’ve heard my coworkers refer to for years. I would’ve never imagined that she’s physically the real-live version of Fran Drescher (not that Fran isn’t alive), except sans annoying accent. Hey, turns out that the Outback makes a caramel apple martini (not on their menu, but made at my request) as identical to the one from Downtown Disney’s UVA bar as I can tell.

I woke up feeling pretty crappy, too. On my drive to work, I called the college roommate for some perspective. Talking to someone on the same wavelength as me, who knows everything I’d gone thru and understands how I feel responsively without having to be told and explained to, really makes a difference. I’m still not yippy skippy, but we did laugh heartily and I did come into work with less density in the cumulonimbus clouds hanging over me. I ate a Dove chocolate when I got in just to see what the fortune would tell me. It says “Laugh uncontrollably…it clears the mind.”

All right, I admit it. I’m bummed. And I learned a little something about lasagne, too. Don’t experiment the day you’re gonna serve 15 people, go with the tried and true. Don’t add water. They were nice about it, but I feel like I need to redeem myself.

I was laughing at myself talking on the phone w/my college roommate earlier. I thought I just got off the emotional roller coaster, and now I look around and I’m in the car of a coaster again. How? When? But here I am.

Today, I’ve already ridden over Insecure Hill, did Disappointment Loop, and now I’m just at Angry Plummet.

There I was, relatively unaffected by the people around me and thus in full emotional balance. And then my subconscious decided to go and smack me with another vivid dream. I woke up this morning, bleary-eyed and colored with the faint blush of romance…and realized it was a dream. Oh, come on!

Married Guy (see 7-30-05 post “TOO Friendly?“): Cindy’s gonna lead the class on the warm-up throws.
Me: No I’m not, stop putting words in my mouth!
(This continues for the next few minutes, in which Married Guy “vouches” that I’d expressed desire to lead the throws.)
Blackbelt: Cindy, you’re gonna lead the throws?
Me: No I’m not. Don’t listen to [Married Guy]. A couple of weeks ago he told [Creepy Guy] (see 6-27-05 entry “1st Day of Jujitsu“) something about me claiming to be [Creepy Guy]’s girlfriend, and he would not let it go!
Blackbelt: [chuckling] [Creepy Guy]’s…got a lot to offer…
(The instructor and I made eye contact, and he started smiling, watching me for my reaction, which was to bite my tongue with visible difficulty in self-restraint.)

(Later, as the New Girl led the class on throws and the Blackbelt was next to follow her, she did a back fall, back roll over right shoulder, back fall, back roll over left shoulder. At least, she twice attempted the back roll over her left shoulder and failed twice. Finally she gave up.)
Josh: (jokingly) We’re following [the New Girl]’s lead, right?
Blackbelt: Yes. You have to do it exactly the way she did it. (He then proceeded to do the back fall but did some fancy lift-up back roll instead of rolling over his shoulder.)
Me: That is so not how she did it!
Blackbelt: Are you giving me a hard time? Why’re you picking on me?
Married Guy: She’s picking on you because she likes you.
Me: [Married Guy], stop putting words in my mouth!
Blackbelt: I have a lot to offer, too.
Me: (after hesitation) We’ll see.
Married Guy: See, she likes you. She wants to see what you have to offer.
Me: Stop it! Stop causing trouble!

(still later, during floorwork warm-ups, where we do a lot of verbal goofing off w/the instructor)
Instructor: You guys are all coming in tomorrow, right? Wear your street clothes. We’re not going to work out. We’re going to have a potluck and a movie. The girls are gonna wear grass skirts.
Me: And that’s it.
Random Student: I’m gonna bring a weed whacker.

Had a great time laughing in class, as usual, in-between obtaining new bruises. Too bad tomorrow’s the last day for the semester. The antics are fun, albeit very sophomoric. Wait. Isn’t that what my horoscope warned me against doing today? Oh well, too late now.

Can I write a book in 5 weeks? That’s rather an ambitious project. But I really feel I can.

On my drive to work this morning, the thought hit me that if I don’t write this stuff soon, I will start losing people who’d want to read it. I’m not predicting the mortality of the people around me, but time is a slippery little sucker. My 10-yr high school reunion just came and went last October. It’s been 7 years since I graduated college, altho it feels like 2. Really, how long can I be pregnant before I give birth? I’ve already procrastinated 7 years.

I feel I’m right on the verge of something. I know what I’m going to write, it’s going to take some collaborative effort from my parents and I’m going to do quite some research, but the story is perfect. The Asian American market can’t criticize me for not knowing what I’m talking about, because it is my story. I have historical figures in the family who will make appearances in the book and that will be verifiable if other people want to research it, and it gives me a marketable edge.

It’s time to bring that dream to fruition. It’s time to hit that rare, fleeting Asian American immigrant literature niche and leave my mark in history. I just responded to an email from my mom, telling her about my ambitious project. She’d be supportive and helpful; she’s published a few pieces in a Chinese newspaper herself. I was born in the Week of Impasse, but mom was born in the Cusp of Magic.

Aside from the silver Dove wrapper from last Thursday still staring at me from my desk, telling me “Hey, why not?”, I now get this from the universe:

Today’s Forecast
Why return to junior high and spend endless hours puzzling over what someone really meant when you can do the grown-up thing and flat-out ask them what’s going on? It’ll be so much quicker that way.
The Bottom Line
Feeling like a martini — shaken or stirred? Don’t worry. This, too, shall pass.
In Detail
It’s a fine time to voice your real needs, because they’ll be met in one way or another. The universe is quick to respond when you identify your genuine desires, so make sure you have a clear idea about what it is you need. Then go ahead and speak up to all and sundry — after all, you never know who might be the supplier for your particular list, and it wouldn’t do to have them heard by the wrong person (or not at all).

My money, love and attitude meters are also 5 for 5 on all of them. So is today supposed to be a good, hedonistic day?

A fellow classmate gave me a CD-ROM of jujitsu photos. I didn’t even know when some of these photos were taken. I figure since I write so much about jujitsu, I may as well share some of these images with you. Please keep in mind that these photos appear to have been taken the 2nd week of class, and I had just gotten my gi and hadn’t washed/preshrunk it yet, so it’s oversized. Or maybe there’s a reason why my class nickname is “the little one.”

“Josh, you’re doing the arm-bar shoulder throw,” said the instructor. “Cindy, slap him.” Oh, how nice.

There’s me. Being shoulder-thrown after a blocked slap.

This entry is going to be TMI for people who are related to me, or don’t want to see me in a certain vomit-inducing light, so if you don’t want to see me in any capacity but a pristine and innocent one, don’t read on.

(more…)

Yesterday, we were waiting for all the criminal trial attorneys to arrive so that we can address a written question the deliberating jurors had sent out. I started to tell the DA the gist of the question, and the judge (who was sitting on the bench) stopped me and said, “Actually, Mr. [Private Defense Counsel] hasn’t heard the question yet, so let’s hold off until he gets here. Just in the parody of fairness.”

Parody of fairness, I mused. How interesting that the judge would mock himself like that.

The judge glanced at me silently from the bench, then said, “Cindy, that’s P-A-R-I-T-Y, not P-A-R-O-D-Y.”

Oh! That changes everything! To the exact opposite meaning. “I was actually thinking P-A-R-O-D-Y,” I said, laughing.

“I know you were,” the judge said. Man, I’m not sure if it’s a good thing that people can read me that easily.