A lot of special days occur in June. The first was my godson (unofficial; his mom merely appointed me and Mr. W), Gym Trainee’s son’s graduation from his private school. He was salutatorian in his elementary school graduating class. Smarty-pants. Takes after his god-mom. (Yeah right. I was a mediocre student at best.) He graduated on a weekday, so I mailed him a card with a $50 giftcard to Target. Only days later was his birthday, which I missed cuz we were in Vegas. He’s 11 now! He’s gonna be in a kids’ production of the musical “Hairspray” at the end of the month which I said I wouldn’t miss even if he were just a rock in the background, and he wants to celebrate my 32nd (*retch*) birthday with me that weekend. That should be fun.

The weekend we were in Vegas, we attended Mr. W’s niece’s wedding, which I’ve already blogged about with photos. That Sunday was also Father’s Day. We did an early Father’s Day brunch with Mr. W’s family and his dad, then we left for home. My mom had been complaining that my dad wasn’t scraping the algae off his fishtank glass since he claimed to be saving it for algae eater fish, so I thought it would be a brilliant idea to buy him a big scavenger fish. When we brought it over to my parents’ house, turned out my dad already got one. Oh well, now they have two. There was something odd about giving him fish for his hobby aquarium and eating salmon fish for lunch while admiring his living fish. I felt strangely hypocritical.

Yesterday, Mr. W’s best friend (ex bro-in-law) threw a big Sunday champagne brunch party for his younger son for graduating high school. It was at Newport Landing Restaurant. To get there, we took a ferry from the Balboa Peninsula. I drank more than my fair share of champagne cuz apparently the key to great service is the wait staff looking over your shoulder and refilling your champagne each time you take a sip. That Asian don’t-waste-food training didn’t help. I’d just started eating when Mr. W suddenly babbled all excitedly, “Your cousin! Your cousin! Say hi to your cousin! Your cousin!” and then he ran out the door. I followed and saw the back of my cousin Diana with her new fiance, Doug. I took a flying leap and pounced on Diana’s back and almost gave her a heart attack. Oops. I guess you’re only excited to see someone if you actually see that someone. My cousin Jennifer saw me from the side as I was attacking her sister and called my name, so we did the slow-motion running with our hands outstretch to each other. No heart attacks there. A big group of them had kayaked over from the Peninsula and went to the upstairs portion of our same restaurant to have some beer. I caught them on their way out, and they looked a little upset. Turned out the restaurant told them that because they’re not ordering brunch, they need to leave and give up their table for people who were going to order the brunch buffet. They said they had a couple of beers each and had ordered oysters, but the restaurant still insisted. So they left, and their male cousin (no relation to me) stayed inside to complain to management. No resolution except an apology. I was offended for them; I was asked to leave a restaurant once when I was hanging out eating Korean tofu in Tustin with Vanessa, her friend Lisa and Mr. W, and they said that we need to give up our table for others waiting. We were paying customers, and WE had to wait for a table, too! I was so offended I never went back.

Sunday was also my mom’s birthday, but we celebrated her birthday on Saturday at The Curry House in Rowland Heights, so I just called her and sung “happy birthday” to her on her voice mail. She called me back and said, “Thank you for your present.”
I said, “Huh? I didn’t get you anything.” I’d spent $200 on her and my grandma for mother’s day, so I was pretty out of dough, especially considering my huge looming expenses. I was supposed to treat her to Curry House, but my dad insisted on paying instead. So I ended up not doing anything.
My mom said, “Well, your song was your present, right?” and sighed.
I knew she was hinting, so I said, “What do you want for your birthday?”
She said, “You know what I want. You just choose to forget it.”
I searched my brain. And then she continued, “Forget it, Mrs. Yang bought me a pair of fake Chanel sunglasses already.” That’s right, she’d wanted designer sunglasses. But she’d wanted that for Christmas and then had kept holding it off whenever I asked when she wanted to go look for them, and I’m sure she’d even told me to not worry about it several times. It’s not like I wear anything designer anyway, so I especially can’t just go buy something without her being there and trying them on.
Mom: still practicing the guilt trips.

Good gawd, I just realized that in 6 days, it’ll be MY aging day. Gack. Mr. W’s son’s 19th birthday is 2 days before mine, so we’re gonna do a joint dinner at Ruth’s Chris steakhouse on Sunday. I’m not sure that in my old age, I can burn off those butter-seared filet mignon calories. Maybe I should’ve gone to the gym today.