cindy's world

Here’s a Friday ha-ha for you guys, altho it wasn’t funny at the time…

Yesterday morning, I posted this status message:
Cindy does not like dreams wherein Dodo’s tail falls off. =(
Claudio: It was a dream. Just put it back on!
Me: I thought it was going to grow back on its own! So I wasn’t TOO worried…until his intestines started coming out, too! Then I ran around trying to find a phone book in English so that I could find a 24-hr emergency pet hospital to take him to, but I couldn’t find any medical help! *cry*
Claudio: That happens when u only feed them chia seeds!
Me: cats aren’t vegetarian!

Earlier as I was sitting in my courtroom, I heard peals of laughter and giggles coming from the hall behind me. I poked my head out the door and saw two judges and a court reporter laughing. I said to one of my favorite judges, who apparently was the one entertaining the others, “I came to see what you’re drinking this early in the morning, and to ask if I could have some.”
As the other two waved their goodbyes and left, this judge said, “I’ll tell you the story, since I’m telling everybody…yesterday I was picking a jury on a double-murder trial, and one of the attorneys asked the [prospective] jurors, ‘Are any of you going to be squeamish looking at photos of dead people?’ One little blonde raised her hand. The attorney asked, ‘You’d feel squeamish?’ She nodded shyly. He asked, ‘Why?’ She said earnestly, ‘…Because I’m a vegetarian.’ ”
He laughed so hard he took out his handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.

My Floridian nurse-sister Jordan posted a photo of us in Vegas and said that it was her favorite photo of us. I reciprocated by posting a photo of us on a Dr. Seuss kiddie ride in Florida, saying it was one of my favorites of us. On this ride, you sit in a big fish that spins in a circle and you can control your fish’s up-and-down movement to either avoid or go into streams of water that are randomly squirted from the mouths of other fish on the perimeter of the ride. So here’s the ensuing conversation.

Jordan: let’s do that again!
Cindy: we really need to! we didn’t explore NEARLY enough of the parks to my little heart’s content!!
Cindy: ooh, we’d need to do that soon, tho. =P
Jordan: well… at least up until your 7th month of pregnancy just no roller coasters or things like that. But I think we can get squirted on from a fish… while sitting in a fish.
Cindy: I thought flying was the problem.
Jordan: yeah when you’re about to deliver… I’ll be the one traveling west at that point missy
Cindy: I thought you’re the one with all the good doctors and stuff! Don’t let them give me an epidural.
Jordan: I’m going to block any attempts at epidurals for you my friend… i want you to experience the JOY of labor! Just so you can say later on.. oh, in about 15 years “I went through 10 hours of HARD labor.. with NO epidural and NOTHING for pain for YOU!!… YOU!! DO. YOU. HEAR. ME?!!!” somethin’ like that.
Cindy: “You know why you’re so smart, you and your smart-ass back-talk? Because I REFUSED to take an epidural thru all FOURTEEN minutes of labor, so that YOU wouldn’t be doped up when you arrived, so that YOUR IQ wouldn’t suffer!! DO.YOU.HEAR.ME???”
Jordan: “Yeah! take THAT!” we could keep going you know…
Jordan: wait. 14 minutes? BAH HA HA HA HA HA
Cindy: YOU NEVER KNOW, OKAY?!
Jordan: Ok. *I* never know.. after having 100 kids and watching 10,000 more born. But hey. What do I know. I will spray fairy dust on you in labor?
Cindy: people thought there’s no such thing as an unstressed bride, but I proved them wrong on that, too!
Jordan: You absolutely can. I will bring crayons with me so that you can print out your delusions and color them yourself. haha.. actually… you’re going to have a fantastic and almost-pain-free labor… I just know it!

The funniest part of this conversation is…I’m not pregnant!

My mom sent me a forwarded email joke with a picture of a little golden puppy. The following email conversation ensued:

Me: Don’t you want a dog? Can we get you a dog? How about a cat? Don’t you want a cat?
Mom: I love dogs, but I have never have pets in my life, I don’t know how to take care, and your dad refused to help! Also, I won’t be free for travel. Maybe wait until I am old and unable to travel, I can take care dog, cat and your children for you!

[Hmm, that was a very unsubtle hint about grandchildren.]

Me: Great! So now I know, when we want to travel, we can leave all the people and animals with you. Maybe we’ll get some fish, too. And a few birds. You don’t mind loud parrots, right? You’ll have a farm whenever we go on vacation.
Mom: Whatever! Ha!

What does that mean? So can I leave all my future animals and people with her or what?

Hubby and I hung out with Ann last night (the medium-rare Asian Ahi Tuna Burger with Asian Slaw and wasabi dressing at the Lazy Dog Cafe…YUMMOS!), and she mentioned that Dodo needs to make a guest appearance on my blog. There’s no better day for my spot o’ sunshine to cheer up my blog than today, given the last post, so I’m making it happen. But I’ve also got a lot of people to finish divorcing, so here is a quickie online conversation between me and my former jujitsu sensei, the ever-playful Ramon:

Ramon: Don’t you hate when your burrito falls apart in your hands? And you look like some kind of jackhole trying to lick/suck chunks of asada off your fingers while sauce runs down your hand?
Me: and people wonder why you have to get on your cell immediately to post something when you’ve got sauce all over your hands?
Ramon: then you get chunks of burrito on your cell, and someone calls you and without thinking you answer, then have chunks on your ear.
Me: And then to clean up, you unthinkingly start licking your phone as you’re talking on it and it shorts out and now you have to buy a new phone as people stare at you when you explain how your cell went out of service.
Ramon: And you’re so concerned with your dead cell that you completely forget about the chunks of burrito on your ear and in your hair and they dry and crust over and you look like a jackhole!!!
Me: And then you go home and realize you forgot to feed your cat this morning, and he’s looking at you with unusual interest.
Ramon: If only Cintastic!! Cats are good at cleaning things.
Me: tell me about it! Dodo’s at home vacuuming right now!

There you have it. #703 among the list of 1000 reasons to have a cat. Plus, they double as shredders. Reason #812. If Dodo were here right now, my courtroom assistant wouldn’t be having to look for a shredder that can handle 1000 pages of confidential medical charts.

After I had my crazy nauseating vertigo on Saturday, I’d expected it to be gone on Sunday, but it wasn’t. I had occasional 1-minute dizzy spells through the day. Monday, same thing, even tho I made sure to stay hydrated. Tuesday, same thing, with very little hydration. I’d noticed that the bouts of spinning would be preceded by a buzzing sensation in my brain. It got REALLY bad on Wednesday despite my drinking a ton of fluids and eating a small lunch; instead of the occasional spinning, I’d be consistently loopy with regular bouts of significant spinning lasting up to 10 minutes or more, the more significant of the bouts would make me nauseated (altho still not to the extreme of Saturday’s onset). I described the sensation as a buzzing that felt like my brain was trying to peel itself away from my skull and crawl down my spine, and then everything would spin as gravity pulled me from the side (usually right side). An attorney in my courtroom with a medical background suggested I get a ear-nose-throat specialist to examine me, and that he doesn’t buy that it’s dehydration-related. He said they’ll likely give me a pack of steroid pills that I’m to take over the course of about 5 days that specifically addresses this vertigo symptom. So I called and made an evening appointment with my primary care doc (who’d [mis?]diagnosed me with GERD) for tonight, to request a referral to an ENT specialist.

Meanwhile, I’m still trying to isolate the vertigo trigger myself. This morning, I drank a cup of water (in case it’s dehydration), a protein shake (in case it’s malnutrition), and am wearing glasses instead of contacts (in case Jordan’s right and something’s suddenly wrong with my contact prescription, since the disorientation was first noticed immediately after I put in my contacts on Saturday morning). So far, I’ve gotten the brain buzzing once in the car on the drive to work, I feel a TINY bit detached/medicine-head-y, but that’s it. So either I’ve mitigated the problem, or it’s getting better on its own.

In email, I received something called “Home Remedies” and I was hoping there’d be something in there to address vertigo, but no such luck, cuz here’s what the email said:
~ * ~
AMAZINGLY SIMPLE HOME REMEDIES (That Really Work!)
1. AVOID CUTTING YOURSELF WHEN SLICING VEGETABLES BY GETTING SOMEONE ELSE TO HOLD THE VEGETABLES WHILE YOU SLICE.
2. AVOID ARGUMENTS WITH THE FEMALES ABOUT LIFTING THE TOILET SEAT BY USING THE SINK.
3. FOR HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE SUFFERERS ~ SIMPLY CUT YOURSELF AND BLEED FOR A FEW MINUTES, THUS REDUCING THE PRESSURE ON YOUR VEINS. REMEMBER TO USE A TIMER.
4. A MOUSE TRAP PLACED ON TOP OF YOUR ALARM CLOCK WILL PREVENT YOU FROM ROLLING OVER AND GOING BACK TO SLEEP AFTER YOU HIT THE SNOOZE BUTTON.
5. IF YOU HAVE A BAD COUGH, TAKE A LARGE DOSE OF LAXATIVES. THEN YOU’LL BE AFRAID TO COUGH.
6. YOU ONLY NEED TWO TOOLS IN LIFE – WD-40 AND DUCT TAPE. IF IT DOESN’T MOVE AND SHOULD, USE THE WD-40. IF IT SHOULDN’T MOVE AND DOES, USE THE DUCT TAPE.
7. IF YOU CAN’T FIX IT WITH A HAMMER, YOU’VE GOT AN ELECTRICAL PROBLEM.

DAILY THOUGHT: SOME PEOPLE ARE LIKE SLINKIES – NOT REALLY GOOD FOR ANYTHING BUT THEY BRING A SMILE TO YOUR FACE WHEN YOU WATCH ‘EM FALL DOWN THE STAIRS.
~ * ~

Here’s what I did to ring in the new year:

I changed my first two diapers! My niece (Mr. W’s Gamer Bro’s daughter) Jenni drove to SoCal from Vegas to visit us for the long New Years weekend, and brought the newest member of the family with her! Don’t they grow up so fast? Here’s Lydia only last summer.
Oh, speaking of babies, here’s the newest one in my half of the family.
This is little Elizabeth Lynn (“Elle”) wearing the Anne Geddes ladybug jacket we got her.

…and here is the back of li’l lady Elle in her new ladybug jacket.

So coming up next month, Bat is going to swing by from Tennessee on his way to New York (I know it’s not on the way, but he scored some amazing flight fares!) for a weekend visit since he’s never been to SoCal, and I’m getting some activities together. So far I’ve booked Claudio and Dwaine for kayaking and sushi that weekend for some male bonding. I’d been craving ikari sushi and finally got some at Minato Sushi tonight. I raved so much about the $25 all-you-can-eat sushi that Claudio wants to go there when they come for kayaking. Here was our online conversation:
Claudio: Can’t wait!
Me: me, neither! do you eat uni?
Claudio: Never tried it. I generally will try anything but this is sea urchin gonads. Um… should I try it?
Me: I usually will try something I dislike every few years just to make sure I still dislike it. Taste changes, and this is how I rediscovered Indian food, bittermelon, brussels sprouts, eggplant. I love that stuff now! But uni…I just hit my 4th try last spring, and after getting that in my mouth I thought, for the 4th time, “WHY am I doing this to myself?!” I have a lot of friends who love it, and my dad loves it. “It’s like a mouthful of ocean,” he says blissfully. And you know what? I totally agree with his description. =6
Claudio: Unless someone I trust tells me I need to eat sea urchin gonads… I ain’t eating sea urchin gonads.
Me: it’s not so much gonads as just the entire innards, isn’t it?
Claudio: I read this on sushifaq.com
While colloquially referred to as the roe (eggs), uni is actually the animal’s gonads (which produce the milt or roe).
Me: omg, “gonads” is an actual non-slang term?
Claudio: Gonad definition according to wiki:
The gonad is the organ that makes gametes. The gonads in males are the testes and the gonads in females are the ovaries.
Me: sea urchin reproductive organs according to wiki:
Sea urchins are dioecious, having separate male and female sexes, although there is generally no easy way to distinguish the two. Regular sea urchins have five gonads, lying underneath the interambulacral regions of the test, while the irregular forms have only four, with the hindmost gonad being absent. Each gonad has a single duct, rising from the upper pole to open at a gonopore lying in one of the genital plates surrounding the anus. The gonads are lined with muscles underneath the peritoneum, and these allow the animal to squeeze its gametes through the duct and into the surrounding sea water, where fertilisation takes place.
Claudio: This makes me want to eat Uni even less… a lot less.
Me: ditto…DIT-TOE.
Claudio:
Me: maybe we can convince Dwaine to eat it as his first sushi experience.
Claudio: I think we’d have to bribe him with a bionic knee or something. ***
Me: maybe we ought to first wiki what a bionic knee costs these days before making promises like that.
Claudio: It’s Dwaine. He’ll forget all about it in 3 days…
2 if he’s been drinking
Me: THEN LET’S SEE WHAT ELSE WE CAN MAKE HIM EAT!!
Claudio: *blush*
Me: nice.

*** This has reference to another conversation that actually involved Dwaine, which went a little something like this:
Dwaine: Heart pounding, lungs burning, just puked a little. On the plus side, I ran for the first time in over a month and my time was much better than I tought it would be. …pardon me, I gotta puk…
Claudio: It looks like Ima haf to bust ur kneecap. Any preference?
Dwaine: The left one. It’s been acting up anyway. Plus I wanna replace it with something bionic. I’ll be faster than EVER!!!! …on that side at least. …better make it both.
Claudio: Good luck with all that. Do u know why they also called the “Bionic Man” the “Six Million Dollar Man”? Becuz that shit costs money!
Me: I say Claudio goes with Dwaine’s 1st inclination and just bust the left kneecap. I’d love to see Dwaine spinning in clockwise circles after his bionic knee replacement surgery every time he tries to run.
Dwaine: I’d STILL win!
…it would just take me a little longer…

Those two are so competitive. But now I get to sit back and see how long it takes Dwaine to discover this post. Lord knows Jordan hasn’t discovered HERS yet.

I received this via e-mail from my buddy Joe earlier:

Greg, a do-it-yourselfer, sent the above picture with the following story:

“Good news is that I truly out did myself this year with my Christmas decorations. The bad news is that I had to take him down after 2 days. I had more people come screaming up to my house than ever. Great stories. But two things made me take it down.

First, the cops advised me that it would cause traffic accidents as they almost wrecked when they drove by.

Second, a 55 year old lady grabbed the 75 pound ladder almost killed herself putting it against my house and didn’t realize it was fake until she climbed to the top (she was not happy). By the way, she was one of many people who attempted to do that. My yard couldn’t take it either. I have more than a few tire tracks where people literally drove up my yard.”

~ * ~
I think this is pure genius. I so want to do this, and since we live in a cul-de-sac, I don’t anticipate much traffic so there wouldn’t be an issue. I wonder if I can talk Mr. W into letting me set this up.

Via IM a few moments ago…
~ * ~

me: Q: What’s the difference between a car and a golf ball?
Mr. W: ?
me: A: Tiger can drive a golf ball 400 yards.
Mr. W: I’m so ick of stupid Tiger jokes. I’ve been ignoring them all day.
me: this was the only one I’ve heard! =( it’s not even 10a, how many jokes could you have been avoiding?
Mr. W: Im not even sure that one answers the question
me: it does. Tiger crashed his car just leaving his driveway. so he can drive a golf ball 400 yards, but he can’t drive his car 400 yards.
Mr. W: oh ok
me: OMG, you didn’t even get it!!
~ * ~

Hmmph. No love.

Ann had always intended to bake and decorate Christmas cookies one year, so she decided this year was the year. By the time I got there after work, she’d already had the sugar cookie dough done and in the oven, and was working on the gingerbread dough.

[Here's a side story about how dependent I am on cell phones now. My cell died shortly after I arrived at work this morning, so I had to IM Ann to make plans this evening instead of doing our usual texting, then I had to leave messages on two friends' social networking sites to let them know that my phone had died after they'd texted me, I wasn't ignoring them. I'd planned to call the roofer to inquire as to what ceiling damage they're willing to cover on some leaks that occurred at my rented-out home after they'd repaired the roof, but I couldn't because their number is solely stored in my cell phone. And before I left work, I IMed Ann again to let her know I was on my way, and that I would have to arrive at her doorstep unannounced except for the doorbell (like in the old days!), whereas I'd normally text to say I was walking up to her building and she'd be at the door. At Ann's, I had to borrow her cell phone to call Mr. W to let him know where I was and how to reach me if need be. As we were waiting for the cookies to cool, I volunteered to drive out to El Pollo Loco to pick up dinner. In the car, I attempted to put the address of the restaurant in the navigation system, but the nav wouldn't pick it up. Instead of calling Ann, I had to walk back to her apartment, up the two flights of stairs, and ask her for directions. Then I walked back down to the car and was off. As soon as I walked into El Pollo Loco, I realized I'd forgotten to ask Ann what two sides she wanted with her meal, so I had to guess. When I returned, Ann said she'd realized it after I left, too, but of course she couldn't call me to tell me that. Sheesh!]

During the cookie-decorating part of our evening, we struggled with getting the meringue icing to cooperate with what we wanted it to do. The sprinkles weren’t behaving in the way we thought they would, either. In a moment of silence as we worked in intense concentration, Ann noted that this is the quietest we’ve ever been while hanging out with each other. I don’t think it was quiet again after that, especially as I started sharing my creations’ backgrounds with her. She laughed at me for having a story around each of my cookies. It’s an only-child thing, I always had stories about everything, giving inanimate objects identities, when I was little and had no one else to play with. So here they are…

GINGERBREAD PEOPLE

Top left: This cookie came out of the cutter bigger than the other gingerbread people, so I explained the extra girth by giving him an open mouth (cuz he likes to eat) and a beer belly.
Top middle: This is angry evil gingerbread man. He’s carrying a long sword cuz he wants to kill somebody. And probably eat him. I have a picture of my friend Josh that looks like this mean gingerbread man.

Can you spot Josh? Hint: He looks like Evil Mr. Gingerbread Man.
Back to the Gingerbread Peeps. Top right: Miss Pageant Lady. She has a French manicure and French pedicure.
Bottom left: Art deco Gingerbread Person of Nondescript Gender.
Bottom leftish-middleish: Gingerbread Slut. She’s wearing too much makeup, had a collagen lip injection, is wearing a dress, high heels, AND a pearl necklace. *sideglance*
Bottom rightish-middleish: Wifebeater-clad Gingerbread Man. I could say he’s a caroler holding a songbook, but I’d be lying. The truth is he is one of my first cookies, before I knew what I was doing. Mr. W ate Wifebeater Gingerbread Man first.
Bottom right: Mr. Uncooperative Gingerbread Man. This is my 2nd attempt and he’s sympathizing with me about how difficult it is to work with this gooey frosting. He and I simultaneously went “Nyah.”

SUGAR COOKIE FOREST

Self-explanatory. They’re Christmas trees — or for those of you who resent Christian symbolism infused into our holidays, these are pine tree air fresheners that harken back to those stinky cardboard cutouts dangling from the rearview mirrors of various cigarette-sucking taxicab drivers.

Here’s the forest from a slightly different angle. All right, there are SOME stories.
Top left: It snowed on this tree, landed on the edges of the branches, and then a holiday fairy came by and made the snow all sparkly and pretty.
Top middle: This tree was decorated by paintball splatters.
Top right: Daisy-like flowers grew on this tree! It’s a miracle!
Bottom left: This is a Christmas tree trimmed with Christmas ornaments. Some gingerbread peeps did it.
Bottom middle: This is the “after” of the first cookie, after some more snow.
Bottom right: Hannukah meets Christmas in plaid!

SUGAR COOKIE SNOWMEN

It’s not that I’m being politically incorrect or sexist by calling them snowmen instead of snowpeeps; it’s that I did not make any snowchicks. I mean, they’re all wearing top hats! I don’t think women should be in top hats unless they’re tapdancing or pulling bunnies out of them. I couldn’t think of much to do with these little guys so they’re uncreative, but look how happy they are to be that way! Mr. W wanted to know why the top right snowman (the one in galoshes) is pigeon-toed, and the answer is, because he’s shy.

MISCELLANEOUS, i.e. STOCKINGS, A MITTEN, AND A DREIDEL

These stockings need to be hung on the chimneys with care, or they’d crumple or melt and wouldn’t be able to double as Santa treats.
Top left: This stocking is where I learned that the round candy sprinkles ruin the most carefully-made designs. This sock holds both an asterisk AND a pound sign. But can you tell after I added the sprinkles? Sadly, no.
Top right: A tribute to the Boston Red Sox. It was easier to do the patches red instead of the entire cookie. That’s WAY too much frosting to eat.
Bottom left: A Christmas-colored sock!
Bottom right: This mitten doubles as a dog’s pawprint! For those mutts who like to wear mits.
Right: Dreidel dreidel dreidel, I made you out of dough…

Now you can appreciate what I attempted to do with Sock #1.

COOKIE VILLAGE CHAOS!!

Mr. W’s daughter just came home as I was typing this, and walked into the kitchen cooing, “How cuuuute!” Mr. W made me go over and tell her the stories for all these little cookies. The problem with having stories about your creations is that now your creations have life and character, and eating them feels like murdering my children. I guess I’ll have to leave it up to Mr. W and Daughter to let these cookies fulfill their purpose in their tummies.

When James and I visited Jordan in Florida in March, we went to Orlando’s Universal Studios, and had dinner at Margaritaville at Universal CityWalk. The restaurant took a photo of the three of us and sold it to us, mounted in keychains, as souvenirs. This is the photo:

James apparently has the keychain just laying around where any small child could get a hold of it, because he sent me this email the other day:
~ * ~
My niece was over today…
She picked up the keychain from MargaritaVille and the following conversation ensued…

Her: “Who are these two girls?”
Me: “Those are my friends.”
Her: “Where did you take this picture?”
Me: “Disney World.”
Her: “You went there with them to Florida?”
Me: “Yes.”
Her: “Who is that one?” (Points to you)
Me: “That’s Cindy.”
Her: “And whose that one?” (Points to Jordan)
Me: “That’s Jordan.”
Her: “Oh….”

… She runs off only to come back sometime later, and picks up the photo again.

Her: “That’s Cindy.” (Points to you).
Her: “That’s Joan.” (Points to Jordan).
Me: “No, that’s Jordan!”
Her: “oh, Jordan!”

… She thinks for a moment.

Her: “Did you sleep with them?”
Me: … paused for a moment, realizing this question is coming from a 5 year old. “No, I didnt.”
Her: “Then where did you sleep? Did you sleep across the room from them?
Me: “Well I guess thats true at Jordan’s house.”
Her: “What about Cindy, what about her house?”
Me: “Her house is here, so she stayed with Jordan too.”
Her: “oh….”

… she thinks for a moment.

Her: “Are they mother and daughter?”
Me: “What?? No!”
Her: “Really? It could be true.”
Me: “What makes you think that? Which one do you think is which?”
Her: “Well the daughter here (points to you) and mother here (points to Jordan).”
Me: “But look one is asian and one is white!”
Her: “You never know…”

Lol…..

She is too funny.

See ya,
James
~ * ~
There’s another reason this is funny. When Jordan came to California for my wedding last August, she treated me to a manicure and pedicure. As the Vietnamese ladies worked on us (we were side-by-side), they chatted and found out I was getting married and that Jordan is visiting for that purpose. So they asked whether Jordan is my mother. It was an absurd question, first because of the racial difference, then because of the LACK of significant age difference. I guess they could’ve assumed she was my future mother-in-law. Nevertheless, Jordan walked away totally offended and complained about it for days.

Reason #3 why this is funny: since Jordan’s been too busy with her life to read blogs, this post will be up for a LONG time before she even realizes it, and so far she has no idea that the above had even occurred. Heh heh! (That’s what you get for being an absentee blogger, Jordan!)