cindy's world

One of the most fun times I’d had in recent memory happened this past Monday. It was a court holiday (thank you, Cesar Chavez), so Mr. W thought he’d take advantage by taking the day off and addressing some car issues he’s had. Nothing big, turned out he had a nail in a tire which the dealership charged $33 to patch (ouch). He could’ve gotten it done for free at America’s Tire, where I go, but he already had his car there for an oil change so he just paid the extra. That’s not the fun part, in case you’re wondering what the heck is wrong with me.

When Mr. W got the call that his car was ready for pick-up, we put Allie in my car’s carseat (forward-facing for the first time, but we had to because we had to move to the next carseat size up and it didn’t fit properly backward facing. Allie is past the legal height and weight requirements for mandatory backward-facing, altho the recommendation is back-facing until age 2. She’s still backward-facing in Mr. W’s car, which we use to transport her 99.9% of the time), I drove, Mr. W climbed in the front passenger seat. I popped in a Pussycat Dolls CD, and I could see in the rear-view mirror and when I’d glance over my shoulder for a lane change that Allie was bopping along to the music, but whenever I or Mr. W would turn and look at her, she’d stop and just solemnly look back at us, first at one, blink, then eyeballs roll to the other parent, blink, eyeballs roll back to the first parent. Mr. W commented she looked like she was watching a very serious ping pong ball match.

Soon we dropped Mr. W off, and it was just Allie and me in my car driving home. The music came back again, and THIS time, she wiggle-wiggled to the music, bobbed her head, threw her hands in the air to the beat, smiled and laughed. I car-danced with her to PCD’s “Wait a Minute” and we both laughed and watched each other (me being careful to only turn around during red lights, of course). I guess she was just self-conscious when dada was in the car with her. She has been Team Mommy for awhile now. It made for a great drive home.

The stepkidlet took this photo of Allie on Easter Day (Sunday).

Simple photo, not much to the composition. Allie’s just standing and smiling in the living room holding her Easter basket, ready to go in the backyard for her first egg hunt. But here’s what it took to GET that shot!

Crazy, huh? The things we have to do for kid photos…

I was quietly hurrying down the stairs earlier (quietly because the baby and the hubby and the cat are all asleep) when a mental image popped up of me tripping on the stairs and falling down, then being unable to get back up. First thought: “How do I fall quietly so I don’t wake the baby up?” Second thought: “If I were stuck here with a broken leg, how do I get hubby to wake up and help me without waking up the baby?” Third thought: “If I were seriously injured here and needed medical attention, would I REALLY avoid calling out for help cuz I don’t want to wake the baby? Would I really just resign myself to laying here quietly hoping to be discovered soon?” I was actually stuck on that last one. So I just slowed down and walked more carefully, lest I actually have to make that decision due to carelessness.

In 2010, I got this photo taken at Disneyland near the Pooh ride, and in jest, I captioned it “Me and my honey.”

Between then and now, 3 years later, some things changed, including they honey jar props. Here’s in the updated 2013 version of “Me and my honey.”

Judge: Any big plans this weekend?
Me: There’s no such thing anymore.
Judge: Little plans for little people.
Me: Exactly. Altho we might try to go to Disneyland Sunday morning.
Judge: Do you have passes?
Me: Yeah, we just got passes.
Judge: They’re kind of pricey, aren’t they? That’s what I heard.
Me: It was like $350 for the lower-level pass.
Judge: Holy toledo! You used to be able to get a good car for that price.
Me: …when?!
Judge: Back in the day, kiddo. Back in the day.

* Can anyone identify the source?

Once in awhile, when the stepkidlet actually has time to spend at home on her own without having to rush off to classes, internships, church, or social obligations with her boyfriend/friends, Allie would hear music coming from the stepkidlet’s bedroom, stop and do a little wiggle-wiggle dance while snapping her fingers, then run down the hall and knock on the stepkidlet’s door. When the stepkidlet opens the door and sees Allie by herself in the hallway, I’d hear a big dramatic gasp and a “HIIIIII, baby! Come IN!” I leave them to do their own entertaining in there and would do whatever I needed to in the kitchen, cleaning up Allie’s bowls after a meal or prepping her next meal or whatever. And I would hear a “Show mom! Show mom!” Then Allie would come walking carefully down the hall and appear in the kitchen with a pretty scarf around her neck, a trendy hat on her head, or fashionista sunglasses on her face. After she shows me, she’d run back to the stepkidlet’s room. This is a normal occurrence.

Yesterday, when I heard the “show mom,” I turned and looked down to see Allie walk in with a long-handled makeup brush in her fist held behind her head, like she was brushing her hair with it. The stepkidlet came in behind her and gave a cue. “What do we do with that? Show mom what we do with that.”
Allie suddenly pointed the makeup brush toward her chin, wiggled her hips back and forth rhythmically, and said while wiggling, “Yah yah YAH yah yaaaah!”
“What are you doing?” I asked. “What is that?”
“It’s a MICROPHONE!” the stepkidlet said gleefully as Allie turned and ran back down the hall toward the stepkidlet’s room. I think someone’s being groomed to be a performer.

Mr. W upgraded the home desktop PC to Windows 8, which is supposed to be more of a touchscreen tablet interface than a desktop computer interface. Since the interface was just not doing much for us and we couldn’t figure out how to use it effectively, he decided, in the next day, to turn his home PC into a giant tablet. He kind of just appeared with a new giant touchscreen monitor. And then a couple of days later, he got a webcam.

“What the hell is THAT for?! I don’t want that!” I pointed at the webcam, appalled. I don’t want to put on makeup just to check my email! This is why I think Apple’s FaceTime feature is the scariest idea, ever. But he installed it anyway (cuz he’s trying to turn the PC into a giant iPad, I’m convinced), and did a test shot while I hid waaaay off-screen.

I guess I’ve been dragged kicking and screaming into modern technology. *sigh*

Despite my nostalgia for what I consider the more user-friendly every-prior-version-of-Windows-including-DOS, I admit that the new app-run Win8 does have some fun perks. For example, hubby found a photo app and made these cool illustrations.

He showed me that one but I didn’t pay much attention because I was still unhappy that the computer user interface I’m familiar with is gone. So he tried again.

He knew that if he placed a cat anywhere on, in, or near an object (such as displayed on this monitor), the battle is almost won. Take TWO cute cats, and I grudgingly come and pay attention. The above photo actually has THREE cute cats in it. Knowing he got me, he told me to try a photo. So I directed while he touch-screened, and came up with this masterpiece:

Now I had to reluctantly agree that this is kind of neat. And I personally made this other one that I entitle, “MY MOTHER’S WORSE NIGHTMARE.” My mom gave me a lot of crap when she first got on the social networking site about the photos of Allie that I’ve posted. (Good thing she doesn’t know about this blog, huh?) It got annoying enough that I avoided hearing all her pestering by simply blocking her from seeing selected photo postings. Her, and anyone who may see it and mention it to her, so my dad, some of my mom’s friends, my mom’s friends’ children, my relatives, family friends, are all blocked from the same photos and postings. I asked her what all her beef about Allie’s photos being shared among my friends circle is about. She said that since she’s able to right-click on my posted photos and save the photo to her computer, that means other people are, too, which means that someone can steal Allie’s photo(s) and make fake I.D.s out of it. *blink blink* What, like this?

There you have it, people. My Mother’s Worst Nightmare. (I think it’s hilarious, but every time I mock her or scoff at her about something, I get a knee-jerk counterthought of, “I hope Allie never does this stuff to me.”)

Here’s something I did on the iPad, to compare old technology with new technology. My mom scanned and emailed me the photo on the left.

My parents came over on Sunday to visit Allie (they sometimes remember to say they’re visiting us, too, but we know better), and we went to a park to let Allie frolick in her new Skidders shoes (which are like half-sock and half-shoe, so Allie walks better in them than hard-soled shoes, and doesn’t slip around on hard floors like she does in just socks). So Allie frolicked, and frolicked, and we let her frolick barefoot on the grass so that she could connect with nature (and dog pee), and then she saw a boy sitting by himself in the grass. So she frolicked over to him, smiling at him, greeting him, flirting…and he just IGNORED HER. I told her, “Don’t worry about it, Allie, he’ll regret this in about 10 years.” My mom took the video, and I posted it on the social networking site. The following conversation ensued on comments.

Dwaine: That little girl is so beautiful. I can’t believe how well she’s walking already!
Me: See, spoken like a guy with taste, unlike that stupid kid sitting on the ground in the video.
Dwaine: LOL
Me: Of course, if he did show some friendliness toward Allie, I’d probably call him a cradle-robbing pedophile, push him over, then grab my baby and run.
College Roommie Diana: boys are stupid at that age…and at many other ages thereafter.
Me: damn good point, Diana.
Dwaine: We’re trying…
Diana: haha. i don’t mean to generalize- “SOME boys are stupid at that age…and at many other ages thereafter.
Dwaine: Too late. My feelings are hurt.
Me: Diana means just the boys we’ve dated are stupid. You were smart enough not to date either one of us.
Dwaine: Very diplomatic Cindy. 😛
Me: I’m trying…
Diana: i just watched the video-that’s hilarious. the boy is not even cute.
Dwaine: In about 15 yrs he realize what he did and send Allie Cat a friend request…but it’ll be too late. That’s how guys learn…
Me: Allie: Who’s Pedro Gonzalez? I just got a friend request from him. He LOOKS kinda familiar…oh, wait a minute. *clicking on Cindy’s FB* *looking at old videos* I KNEW IT! *clicking DECLINE on Friend Request*
Dwaine: …poor Pedro…
Me: hey, what goes around, comes around.

(I didn’t copy/paste the other random comments on the video itself, like how big Allie’s getting, wow she’s walking, etc)

Hubby and I still haven’t reached any resolution on the near future regarding his imminent retirement. He knows he’s going to retire in about 5 years (he can’t wait, he talks about it almost DAILY, especially when traffic’s bad on the freeways commuting to work), and he still wants me to quit when he retires, so we can be a family unit all together, but I’m still not ready to give up the financial security of having my own money, and own work life. Maybe things will change in 5 years. Maybe Oregon, Hawaii or Florida (yes, Mr. W put FLORIDA on the potential retirement location list) won’t seem so far away by then. Who knows.

Mr. W took me to lunch today at a Chinese food restaurant. When the fortune cookies came at the end, he cracked his open, read it to himself, and then commented with a big smile, “Hey, I’m gonna get to retire this year!” Huh? He handed me the fortune. It says, “The current year will bring you much happiness.”
Heh.
He told me to open mine. I did, and read it silently. “Hey, I’m NOT going to be quitting this year!” I said in delight.
“Your fortune is ‘The current year will NOT bring you any happiness’?” he predicted.
I handed him my fortune, which says, “Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned.”
(more…)

I used to get little trash-talking post-it notes on my desk at work when UCLA played rival colleges, from my coworkers who’d attended those rival colleges, and I used to get some crap from judges in elevators when the stakes got high. But that hasn’t happened in years. This is probably why people at work from rival colleges have stopped picking on me about sports…
My judge (Cal grad), this morning: Hey, UCLA’s 3-0!
Me: Yeah, I heard we’re doing pretty well.
[Meaning, I’ve seen social network posts from fellow Bruins cheering.]
Judge: [something about the new coach]
Me: What sport are we talking about again?
Judge: [an amused laugh] This IS football season.
Me: Oh.