cindy's world

I think I’m getting into cooking again. It’s so nice and rewarding to cook when there’s someone else to eat it with you, and it’s especially nice when the someone else is really complimentary and appreciative. I have this developing inherent knack for feeling what goes well together and how to cook various things, even if I’ve never cooked the item before. That’s why I usually don’t have recipes to give out when people ask me for them. A retired coworker gave me a huge bag of home-grown produce, and I did eggplant last week (lightly sauteed in fresh jalapenos and garlic and then steam-cooked the rest of the way in chicken broth) and Anaheim peppers today (stir-fried with low-fat ground beef and fresh Serrano chili peppers, served over steamed multi-grain rice), both of which were totally new ingredients for me. I’d never even heard of Anaheim peppers till I was faced with their shiny curvy green selves. And experience now teaches me another lesson — don’t touch mucus membranes when you’ve been chopping spicy chilis and peppers. (Duh, Cindy.) =P

Sunday was pretty stinky. It started with my meeting my parents alone (at my mom’s request so she can have some exclusive mother-daughter time with mother-daughter talk, which sounded anxiety-attackishly vomit-inducing to me and turned out my instincts were right) for breakfast out, which opportunity my mom took to tell me, both through anecdotes allegedly from her coworkers and through directly saying it, that I must bear her grandchildren immediately or I will die alone and neglected in my old age. And she was not having it when I gave her my usual answer about how long we expect to be engaged before getting married (9 years), and said that it had better be within 2 years. She claimed she may not be alive in 9 years to attend the wedding, and I said that’s all the more reason for me to put the wedding even farther out, so that she’d HAVE to stay alive and healthy in order to attend it, and that I was now elongating the engagement period to 25 years. After that breakfast, during which my dad stayed mainly silent, the three of us went to my aunt (dad’s 2nd sister)’s house to make the engagement announcement. My dad’s 3rd sister was invited to join us there, but she turned it down claiming she was presently unpresentable and took a rain check. My cousin, the 2nd sister’s daughter, was to meet us there too, but she never showed up. After staying awhile, my parents and I left to my grandma (mom’s mom)’s house to make the same announcement. Grandma asked me how soon we expect to be married, then promptly turned around and got distracted into shuffling through some stuff on her shelf as I answered, “9 years.” She didn’t react, and I turned to my mother and said, “See? She’s all right with that.” And after that visit, my parents and I went back to our respective homes.

Turning right onto my street, I passed by a black SUV that was going the opposite way, toward me. I saw out of the corner of my eye that someone in the back passenger seat had his/her full arm stuck entirely out the window toward my car, and I thought it was a neighbor I didn’t recognize waving at me or something, until I realized he/she had his/her middle finger up flipping me the bird. WTF?! It was definitely not anyone I knew, and what the hell were these people’s problems, they don’t like Lexuses?! I hoped karma would see to it that the person got his/her arm broken off soon as I fantasized about what I would’ve done had I possessed a secret laser-beam shooting space-age weapon. I doubted my ability to take the high road and keep my keys in my purse if I ever I see a black SUV parked on my street with a Raiders football decal on the center top of the rear window.

I eventually made it back to Mr. W’s in the late afternoon and we went to a pizza joint I’d been recommending, and turned out he thought the parking lot design was awful; we were seated in the last available booth which was in the back by the restrooms and patrons constantly went in and out and every time the door opened, we could smell the bathroom air freshener; he didn’t like the glass the chianti was served in (they used a chardonnay glass so he was unable to swirl the red wine without spilling some); he thought the antipasto salad wasn’t very fresh as it wasn’t “crispy”; and he thought the pizza was too soggy in the middle. Sigh.

Sunday evening ended with our attending a funeral at 7pm. The pallbearers brought the coffin into the church followed by a procession of the deceased’s family members, and I saw a teenage boy wipe furiously at his face, trying to hide his sobs, as his sister and mother on either side of him walked with their arms around him protectively and rubbed his back in an ineffective attempt to comfort him. Watching his agony choked my chest and brought tears to my own eyes. Sigh.

Tomorrow is a new day.

I got an email on Friday advertising 50% off on this massage package:
“Renew yourself with this head to toe pampering experience! The OC Spa Vacation Package includes a full body Swedish Massage with Deep Back Therapy & a Heavenly Warm Foot Exfoliation & Reflexology Treatment (75 min.). Next, enjoy a Green Tea Purifying Facial accompanied by a Soothing Acupressure Scalp Treatment & Neroli Floral Water Aromatherapy. Finally, your stress will melt away with a Calming Back Facial to help soften & smooth this often neglected area (75 min). A Perfect Package for both men & women who would like a summer vacation without the stress of travel. We look forward to taking you away soon!”

How could I turn that down? That’s 2.5 hours for $160! The facility was able to accomodate 2 simultaneous appointments on Saturday afternoon, so I booked that for me and Mr. W. While at our appointment yesterday, I think I picked up on the massage therapist in that platonic girly way. She’s fairly newly here from Chicago but had always said, since she was a young girl, that she would move to California one day. Her family just ignored it as the unrealistic musings of a dumb kid, until she up and moved here last year. We got talking about how she feels like she ought to start dating, but she was also enjoying her freedom too much to give it up. On the other hand, she’d like some casual dates here and there to pass the time but didn’t know how to go about doing it. She was thinking about joining Match dot com, and I held my tongue about that which ended up being a good move as the next thing she told me was that her brother had been on that dating service and ended up marrying his Match. I suggested that if she just wants really casual hangouts for now, to give people around her a chance before she puts money down on an internet dating site. She didn’t know where or how to start.

I suggested that she think about what hobbies or interests are important to her. Then to join a group or activity revolving around that interest and meet people through there. At least then, she knows she has at least one thing in common with the guy. I told her that I’ve actually had quite a few people ask me out through the gym, and at least if I meet someone through the gym, I know he’s not a total couch potato and is into keeping up his physical health, which is important to me. I told her that peak gym times are about 5:30p, when people get there after work, and if she gets there a bit before that and situates herself to see patrons walk in, she’ll know who comes in wearing suits cuz that’d mean they’re professionally employed. And if she sees someone she likes, she can always walk up to him and say, “You look like you know what you’re doing, can you help me with this piece of equipment?” or maybe ask some tips on developing some body part while complimenting the guy, such as “You have great shoulders, what exercise do you do to tone that up?” She’s actually very pretty, so I can’t imagine that some guy wouldn’t be glad to give her a few pointers. Plus, when some gym rat finds out she’s a massage therapist, he’d be all over that! She thought my ideas were creatively brilliant. I suggested if she likes cooking, to take a few recreational specialty cooking classes, and it turns out she absolutely loves cooking. So that opens a ton of other stuff up, such as telling some guy she’s developed some rapport with, “I’ve got a class tonight to make Mediterranean pastas from scratch and I can’t finish all that food we bring home by myself, wanna help?” Or, “I’ve got this great recipe I wanna try at home from my cooking class for savory tarts, wanna come by and loan me your taste buds?” Pretty girl + massage therapist + cook, HELLO! I also told her she has very little competition in SoCal because (sorry for the stereotype, but stereotypes exist for a reason, not saying there are no exceptions) pretty girls tend to be pretty useless. They tend to have everything handed to them on a silver platter due to their looks, so they can’t cook, don’t clean, have nothing interesting to say as they haven’t needed to develop their personalities or be particularly educated, they can’t save or hang onto money, and feel entitled to being financially spoiled by men. “Really?” she said, “But the stuff I do are so…normal.” “Not around here,” I told her. I also gave her some examples of overheard conversations at restaurants; some pretty blonde in a business suit gushing to her girlfriend about a new guy she met who’s so perfect and oh yeah, he’s a “waitress” (how’d he pull that one off?); girl going on and on to a guy at the bar about her lipstick color and lip shape, while he zoned out and sat there silently staring into his beer while she obliviously rambled on (he ended up turning to his other side, where I was, and bought me a drink and the other girl was so mad she stormed out and kicked my barstool hard as she passed by); man at a restaurant’s outdoor patio table staring past a woman’s shoulders as she gabs to him about random stuff, completely unaware that he had been silent and not looking at her for the past 15 minutes as she talked. The massage therapist laughed and said she was going to pay more attention to things around her from now on.

When we left, she passed me her email address and after getting back I sent her the most recent specialty cooking class syllabus for a great artisan bakery nearby. We’d been emailing since.

Why weren’t things so crystal-clear when *I* was looking, years and years ago?

I thought I looked funny today. I’d gone to the bathroom at lunch (didn’t go work out or I would’ve figured it out sooner) and in passing, mused how small my eyes looked. And just now, in the bathroom, while washing my hands, I looked up in the mirror, and…realized I’d forgotten to put on eye makeup this morning. What the…?! Who does that?! No wonder I got out the house early today!

People think my judge is a strict fuddy-duddy. But they’re not around when he says goodbye to me every evening, each time in a different way. “I’m off like a thief in the night.” “All right, the lazy people are goin’. See ya.” Today, it was

Judge: *door opening, poking his head in* All right, you’re not gonna have the ol’ judge to kick around anymore.
Me: *wailing* What’m I gonna do all evening, then?
Judge: *heartlessly* I don’t know. Get a soccer ball.

Fun, fun. As I sit here at my desk and divorce people.

…in many people’s lives when they get to scream (and sometimes without lying)…
I ‘ M e n G A G E D !!!!

Relive the experience time after time like it’s your first. See the comment section here. 😀

Flat Coke & Flies participated in an interesting and self-esteem-boosting meme on her blog, and as I finished reading the last juicy word, I saw my name in the paragraph below. She’d tagged me to do the same meme! Okay, so here it is, 10 things I like about myself.

10.) I fit in small spaces. Yeah, I’ve griped about being short and not having the square footage for wider-spread distribution of fat; yeah, I’ve griped about not being able to buy clothes right off the racks. But hey, not being able to fit in most clothes saves me money, AND I’m one of the few people who can sit comfortably anywhere, no matter how small the car, how tight the seat, how negligible the legroom. This is how I sleep in the coach section of planes: I lower the food tray attached to the back of the seat in front of me, I lean forward, fold my arms over the tray, and sleep with my head on my arms, just like when we played “Heads-Up, 7Up” in gradeschool. The other day I walked into Mr. W’s house to find him putting away groceries he’d just gotten from Costco, and there was a produce cardboard box on the ground (as Costco does not use grocery bags). “Hey, that’s big enough to fit me!” I said as I climbed in, sat in there cross-legged and looked out at him, beaming. He was unable to resist dragging me around the floor for a few laps as I held on to the sides of the box shrieking, “WHEEEEEEEE!!!”

9.) I like my quirky sense of humor. The humor is sometimes high-brow and witty, but more often it’s just goofy. Sometimes I find someone who “gets” me and my humor, and the interaction is just back-breakingly belly-achingly funny…unless you’re the person we’re making fun of. Chances are, tho, if we’re making fun of you, you’re not one of those people who get it anyway.

8.) I love that I don’t fit the negative stereotype of today’s American girl. I’m financially independent, have assets, no credit card debt, don’t blow offensive wads of cash on name-brand shoes/purses/makeup/hair-extensions/manicures, don’t do catty sabotaging things to other women, did not get knocked up by a guy who doesn’t take me seriously, am not waiting around for Prince Charming to come around and “rescue” me by wiping my ass of my debts. And I’m college-educated, have never been drunk, high, nor ever smoked. You may THINK I’m boring, but I’ve partied with the best of you and *I* can say I remember doing it.

7.) I have a natural teacher in me. I like that I can share knowledge or perspectives and make it palatable to the recipient. People sense this and seek me out for tutoring (just did a session last Friday for a coworker), and often for advice. That teacher is able to get you from Point A (problem) to Point B (solution) in a way that’s easy to understand and is hopefully inspiring. Oh, people come to me with nutrition/workout questions, too. I’m very proud of my students, they have an extremely high success rate. College roommie Diana’s nickname for me when she seeks advice is “Psychic Cindy.”

6.) Kind of along with #7, I like that I can and have inspired goodness in people. Few things are more rewarding than when I get a phone call from an excited friend saying, “I took your advice and didn’t do that mean nasty thing I wanted to do, and instead I did this positive thing, and oh my gosh you were right! I’m so glad I didn’t go through with what I’d wanted to before I talked to you!” One of my proudest and favorite stories in this category has to do with Vanessa and an email response she almost sent to her father, but thought she’d send it to me first and ask “How would YOU respond?” To respect Vanessa’s privacy in that she may not want this story divulged, I’ll stop here. But it is a BEAUTIFUL story.

5.) I plan for the future, and for the rainy days. But I do so without depriving myself today. I may never have kids, but if I do, there’s a college fund being built that I started 10 years ago. BUT I still bought myself that Lexus for my happiness today. You also can’t say I don’t vacation well. Through all this, I still live comfortably and well within my means. (Altho my parents do this better than I can; I can’t figure out how they do it.)

4.) Sometimes, just sometimes, I have a spark of enlightenment and I learn like mad from life. I see the higher purpose for everything, and I try to spread that goodness around as I grow as much as possible. From the worst relationship ever, I learned how to survive and make myself happy. I strive to live calmer, with a broader perspective. I am hyper-conscious of my flaws and work to improve myself. I come up with great little sayings like, “Sometimes you have to add your own yellow.” Sometimes the day is dark, and you bring your own sunshine, you rewrite your own day, and in so doing, you just may change the world. This side of me is really hard to explain in words, it’s more of a state of mind than a physical thing I can describe.

3.) I’ve never actually failed at anything I’d set out to do. Ever. I don’t know why I deserve that kind of luck, but I am appreciative of everything it’s brought me. I’m proud that I set out for positive things, and that those are the things I’ve succeeded at. I think I’d regret it forever if one of my successes were in destroying someone’s career or something like that. (I know what you’re thinking, and no, I’m not gonna help you sabotage an annoying person in your life. But I will talk you out of WANTING to and make you happier in the process.)

2.) I have an affinity for surrounding myself with good people. Quality friends. People with character that I can trust and be proud to be around. I’d say I’m a good judge of character, but I think a lot of it came from learning the hard way, too. When I was younger, I had to do what I called “spring cleaning” of “friends,” when I found out that these people were not the kind of friend to me that I was to them. But what I am left with now is a collection of some of the most inspiring people who give out so much light, whom I constantly learn from, and they have shielded me in storms, pulled me out of wreckages, given their blood to make sure I survive. There are too many of you to name, and as I credit you for helping me find myself, I also credit me for finding you. =)

1.) I have a detailed memory. So detailed, that yesterday while having a sunset oceanside dinner with Mr. W (he had the lemon-caper swordfish), he mentioned that he didn’t use to like capers when he first had them, and I was actually able to recall THE first time I actually had capers. It was at Orange Hill Restaurant on a double-date with college roommie Diana and our then-boyfriends. I had chicken breast with a creamy lemon-caper sauce. It must’ve been ’98. I can see the restaurant, the people, feel what I felt then. And that memory in turn pulls the thread of many other associated memories involving other people and thoughts back then. It just goes from there. But I love this memory of mine, despite the holy terror it strikes in people, because this is how I keep my life’s lessons and remember how to give gratitude for them, and cherish all the wonderful things that existence has and will continue to give me.

I drove up to Mr. W’s place this evening and saw him standing outside aiming his camera at something small in his hand. His next-door neighbor and fellow photography fan was holding a giant sheet of white cardboard-looking thing up against the subject. For lighting, I suppose. Mr. W then played with his photos on his computer while I watched TV and ate some wheat pasta and watched “Malcolm in the Middle” and “The Simpsons” on TV. Finally, I was called into his room where he asked whether the fruits of his labor were blogworthy. So at the risk of looking braggy, I’m posting his work.

Hey look, free advertising for the Lakhi Group’s Pristine Hearts collection! There is surprisingly little information online about this line.

I think my favorite photos are the undoctored ones, #1 and #3. But if you look at #4, his nice camera’s zoom is so powerful that you can actually see the outline of the heart inside the stone.