cindy's world

When I woke up on my living room couch at about 2:00 a.m., the house was dark, and the TV was playing a horror flick on HBO called “My Little Eye.” I don’t know what groggy-eyed idiocy compelled me to watch the remainder of this movie. The result is that I ended up scared and in desperate need to “reach out and touch someone”, but I wasn’t gonna call someone at 3am. Next best thing in the 21st century is to log online and hope for the best. And there it was, on AOL Instant Messenger. I made my confessions of fear to a faraway friend and explained my situation…

Me: I keep turning around to watch my back and you know what’s worse than watching your back alone at night?
Me: is turning around and watching your back in a mirror!
Me: WWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friend: at work
Friend: i had a mirror
Friend: attached to my monitor
Friend: so i can always see what is going on behind me
Friend: and if someone is creeping up on me or not
Me: I’ve seen people in the Clerk’s Office with that on their monitors.
Me: But at times like this, you realize the mirror doesn’t help because certain supernatural things don’t cast reflections!
Me: WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
Friend: also a good point
Me: I’m gonna cry!
Friend: you will be okay, cindy.
Friend: i’ve talked to the supernatural powers
Friend: and told them that they can have the night off
Friend: so they will not be bothering you tonight.
Me: What about murderous people who are killing people in a secretly bugged, isolated house for a snuff internet site?
Me: (I watched “My Little Eye”)
Friend: oh, that isn’t your house
Friend: i checked.

I like having friends who you can tell have had boyfriend-training and who evidently would make good dads. *sniff*

You know you’re out of it when you stare quizzically at a bra on your bed because you think it’s a can opener.

I also get the heebie jeebies now when I see the red dot on the inside of my forearm where the blood was drawn the other day. Lying on the cot after the collection bag filled up, all I could think about as they took the two or three vials of blood for testing, was how they took their time changing the vials/bag and my blood had nowhere to go in the meantime, and I could hear my godbrother tell me about his blood donation story and how the nurse must’ve, at this step, caused his blood to flow backward from the tube into his vein and how it hurt his arm. And then my arm started hurting at the needle site, too. *shudder shudder shudder* I almost went into shock at that point. They were pretty good about bringing wet towels for my forehead and neck.

Why’m I all disoriented? Probably because last nite, for the first time, I did forward rolls over my left shoulder, right shoulder, from standing position, and also with a running start. It’s so much easier than the beginner rolls I had been doing with the starting point on one knee with the rear leg outstretched behind me. The standing rolls feel more natural to me, and all I knew was that I raised my right arm, stepped in with my right foot, tucked, and the next thing I knew I was up on my feet again. Woohoo! Also, being able to do that roll advanced me from the anals of the class.

I like this series of photos. How many attempts does it take to get a good picture in which we all look normal? I’m writing the captions out for you so you don’t have to rest your mouse over the photos for them (altho that works, too.)
1.
Attempt 1: Brad’s sticking his tongue out like he’s gonna lick Diana.
2.
That’s #2. I’m not ready.
3.
That’s #3. Diana is frustrated. “How hard can this be? I don’t understand!”
4.
That’s 4. “Get down here and put your head like this,” says Diana.
5.
And finally, success. Attempt #5. Cut and Print!

For photos Mike took of my b-day dinner on Saturday night (see 7-3-05 entry, San Jose, Part I), click here: http://www.ocliw.com/things/weekends/cindyBday2005/index.php

As with all my photos, just rest your mouse over the photo for a caption. Please keep in mind that WE WERE ALL SOBER. It was a totally dry beach with tons of sheriffs around to enforce that.
See 7-5-05 entry, San Jose, Part II.

Wonder how much Jimmy outweighs me by.
Don’t look so surprised, Brad!
For more and better photos of this July 4th, 2005 insanity, please click on: http://www.ocliw.com/things/weekends/bigBeachBBQ2005/cindy/

I’m supposed to be packing and otherwise getting ready for my trip tomorrow, and what am I doing? This:


Disney’s Mulan in traditional Asian garb… Cindy in traditional Asian garb (2nd from left).
Okay, so maybe there are SOME similarities between me and Mulan. (For new readers, refer to 6-27-05 post, “Cindy the Cartoon“.)

I just have to post my mother’s email to me, it’s too funny not to:

H-A-P-P-Y BIRTHDAY!  Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear cindy
Happy birthday to youuuuuuuuuuu!
 
29 years ago, approx. 5:30pm, a new born babygirl had changed a new couple’s life, lots of joy! Thank you!

I think it’s cool that my immigrant mother can send me a jovial email like this, but the more important thing is I WAS BORN AT 5:30 PM WHICH MEANS I AM NOT 29 YET! Woohoo!

I had lunch today with a coworker, and across the table at the restaurant, he said, “I was watching a movie this weekend and a character totally reminded me of you.” I asked what movie, and he couldn’t think of the name right away, and said it was a cartoon. I first thought of MTV’s “Daria” because a friend I had long ago had told me that my sullen sarcastic personality is like the Daria character. My coworker said it’s a Disney movie. I said, “Lilo & Stitch?” I’ve had a couple of people mention to me when Lilo & Stitch first came out that in childhood, I must’ve been like Lilo. Imaginative in a twisted sort of way. He said that’s not it. I knew what was coming.

“Oh, it was Mulan!”
“So did the personality of the character remind you of me, or was it the way she looks?”
“It was her looks.”

I told him that another coworker had watched the movie with her husband when it came out years ago, and at a scene when she let her hair down and was again “Mulan the girl,” both the coworker and her husband said simultaneously, “That’s Cindy!” The coworker I was having lunch with agreed but he couldn’t identify which scene it was that it hit him how much Mulan resembled me.

It was probably the scene where she transformed into a man.

My friend gave me an inch-tall plastic Pooh-bear in a rubbery elephant costume on a string. You can bend the elephant head back and the tiny harder-plastic Pooh pops out.

As I was in the backseat of my parents’ car last nite going to dinner, my inner Chinawoman decided that it’d be a great idea to hang this Pooh toy from the top of my cell phone. I struggled but could not get the string thru the plastic hole on top of the phone. My mother offered me a partially unraveled paperclip to act as plunger. The string was unrelenting. Mom offered to try, so I passed up Elephant Pooh, cell phone, and paperclip. As she struggled, my dad gave helpful advice tips from the driver’s seat. I had a flash of brilliance and used a strand of my hair (I know, ew) to loop thru the string so that I could pull the string thru w/my hair. I attempted to push the hair thru the phone. I couldn’t get the other hair end into the phone. Mom offered to try this technique, too, so I passed up Elephant Pooh, cell phone, and hair. She struggled, also could not get the other end of the hair thru. We gave up. After dinner, when the whole party went to my parents’ house for tea and chatting, my dad used his fishing line in lieu of my hair and completed the project for me. I now have a Pooh in an elephant costume hanging from my cell phone.

As my godbrother would say sarcastically, “That’s sexy.”

5.3 earthquake centered in Yucaipa about 15 mins ago. I’m not even sure I’m spelling that right cuz where the heck is Yucaipa? Somewhere in San Bernardino.
We Californians are so cavalier about earthquakes. My bailiff and I just talked thru it, sitting at our own desks, not even ducking.

Me: Hey, here’s an aftershock from the San Diego quake.
Bailiff: Yeah.
Me: Hmm. It’s getting bigger. [something on my desk falls over]
Bailiff: This is a Whittier fault line earthquake.
Me: You think so?
Bailiff: Yeah. It’s too big to be a San Diego aftershock.
Me: [pausing with head tilted, feeling the building roll] You’re probably right. Altho we’re in a multi-story building so it probably feels stronger cuz the building shakes.

I also received an email blaming me for the earthquake because I had supposedly written something mean right before the quake happened. “Wow, I’m pretty powerful stuff,” I emailed back.

In my capacity as “judicial assistant” or “courtroom clerk”, I have had the opportunity to meet many sheriffs from the LA County Sheriff’s Department. Sometimes we get into discussions and battles of wits (but not very often; the ones who regularly work around me know better), such as the one yesterday, in which we were arguing about the legal definition of “conspiracy.”

Sheriff: Two or more people is a conspiracy.
Me: I don’t think so. I think it’s six or more people, or maybe four.
Sheriff: It only takes two. Four is the definition of a riot.
Me: I’m pretty sure it’s at least four for a conspiracy. Two people just make co-defendants.

I get on the cell phone to call college roommie, a bar card carrying (almost) attorney, and ask her, “What’s the legal definition of conspiracy?” She responds instantly that it’s two or more people who form an alliance to commit a specific felony.

Me: Damn it!
Sheriff: Why do you even argue with me about this?!
Me: Because I was so sure it was four or six…I remember the legal definition of something being four people…
Sheriff: I told you, it’s “riot.” Four people make a riot. You can’t have a riot with just two people. Two people can incite a riot, but…
Me: [turning to him suddenly] Spell ‘incite.’
Sheriff: What?
Me: Spell it. ‘Incite.’
Sheriff: I-N…S-I-G-H-T.
Me: Nope. That’s insight, like to have specialized knowledge about something. Spell incite.
Sheriff: E-N –?
Me: Nope!
Sheriff: I give up. How do you spell it then?
Me: I-N-C-I-T-E!
Checkmate.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is how you win an argument against a cop. [Curtsy]