cindy's world

Vacuuming – check.
Laundry – check.
Change winter flannel sheets to summer sateen sheets – check.
Remove Dodo’s winter coat with comb – check.
Wash dishes – check.
Shower – check.
Next: going to visit the ‘rents and washing my car at their house. Probably having dinner there, too. (My car is once again at that stage where it has not only changed color, but also changed shape from the generous layer of dust and road grime covering.)

Just thought I’d post some photos of my friend Lily’s wedding that I went to on June 11, 2005 and blogged about that weekend. (See 6-12-05 entry, 2 Burgers; But Hold the Patties, Part II.) She’s such a beautiful bride. I wanted to post photos as a supplement on that entry, but no one goes back to read an old entry, so here we go.
Kind of the quintessential bride and groom look. Congrats to the good doctors.

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 will add more photos later when I receive a copy of Jimmy’s photos (documenting our insanity on Monday), and when I get to my better photo editing program at home so I can crop out all the dead space around the photo. Meanwhile, this photo is representative of Monday:

Our trial attorney asked me an hour ago which beach I had gone to in San Jose, and I could not remember. He started naming all these beaches, and none of them sound right. The point is, it doesn’t matter. The location was a variable; it was how I felt that was the surprising constant. There was a big crowd at our beach event and although most were strangers, I was comfortable enough to completely be stupid. My camera battery died so the really stupid photos are on Jimmy’s camera. Things like my standing on Diana and Jen’s backs and shoulders in a human pyramid, and our imitating the famous photo of the flag-raising at Iwo Jima… only instead of Feb 19, 1945, it was July 4, 2005; instead of the American flag it was a beach umbrella; instead of the US Navy it was Val, Jen and myself; instead of the battlefield rocks it was Diana’s ass.

Good times. At one point I looked around, fully aware of my high level of contentment and comfort, and then it suddenly hit me that later that evening I would be on a flight home and this beach, these people, are so far away from “home.” That was a strange feeling.

I’m sorry to have missed the beach night bonfire, but very happy to have participated in the antics of the day. I am grateful to all of these people who have befriended me and taken me in at a very hard time in my life, and have shown me by their mere existence that continued faith in people, friendships, and connectivity is warranted. Thanks, guys.

Saturday:

There is something so satisfying about hanging out with these people, a lot of whom I have only met once before, a month ago. From grocery shopping and cooking with Brad to laughing at Mike’s renditions of events to rebonding with Diana over each other’s social miseries to watching Jen’s sweet silliness to making fun of Jimmy under the stars to falling asleep outside and waking up just prior to hypothermia setting in. I perched so long on top of the stone-topped cooking range in Diana’s backyard last nite chatting with people that I think I bruised my butt-bone (okay, so I’m not an anatomy genius). I told them as I sat out there watching the stars get brighter as the night got darker (mostly because Diana couldn’t figure out how to turn the lights on outside; turned out the timer switch was unplugged) that it’s amazing how comfortable I was there that evening. I didn’t feel left out even tho a lot of the night was spent out of the circle of main conversation, and I felt totally at peace and safe. There was no worrying that someone was gonna get drunk and out of hand, or that there was some subplot going on so I’d better keep an eye open and watch my back. And I’ve only known a lot of these people a month. Amazing. Oh yeah. And the lasagnes turned out pretty well, if I can trust the compliments of the guests. The largest compliments were the guys who went back for seconds, and Henry’s girlfriend whose parents own(ed?) an Italian restaurant and who said that this is the best Italian food she’s ever tasted that an Asian person made. These people felt like kin.

Sunday:

Sunday isn’t over yet as it’s right before 9pm and it looks like we’re getting ready to go out again. I accomplished two things. The first is the realization that people who I’d thought were perfect and so admirable, I found out today is as human as the rest of us, and everyone has issues. I’m not sure if this is a good discovery, but over time I’m sure its effect will be revealed. The second thing is that I finally got a tan. I wore my bikini to Melanie’s (right photo, whose back you see) annual July 4th pool party and had good food and…well…interesting company. I didn’t mingle as much as I could have, but there were enough people I liked around me that I didn’t feel compelled to go out of my comfort zone. Jimmy, thanks for letting me throw you over my shoulder onto the grass. Now I know never to throw a fully-clothed adult while I’m in my bikini. Ouch, the fabric burn on my shoulder and shoulder blade…

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“.)

My b-day flowers are beautiful, blossoming, and fragrant. These photos (taken with my dinky cameraphone) really don’t do the bouquet justice, because from where I’m looking at the actual thing it’s clear there are 25 roses 2 feet tall. It’s hard to believe that when they came, they were this little scrunched up pile of buds in a tight rectangular box. I remember Grace’s wedding florist, Ernie, telling me “When roses are given in love, they’ll bloom. When they’re not, they’ll stay budded and wilt as buds.” I used to have all my roses wilt in buds. I guess Vicky and Peter really love me.

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.”

Today marks the end of life as I know it. Transitional life. The time bomb was put in place in the first week of the Past, already pre-set to go off May 2, 2005. The Past ended May 2, 2005; the Present began on the same date. Yesterday, June 16, 2005, makes it six weeks to the day. In those six weeks, I had struggled to find myself and to set up my Future life, altho I didn’t know it at the time. Now I have these plans and activities in motion, just waiting for me to be ready.

I drove to work today in silence, surrounded by only my thoughts. I brought my digital camera with me to document the day. I wanted to wear all black and be in comfort clothes, then at the last minute opted for an outfit that was better for my self-esteem. Black and white. Yin and yang. Hope and despair. The death of the phoenix in flames, and from the ashes, a new bird shall rise.

I looked into the jury room and paused in confusion. Cake laid out. Presents. “Your birthday! You didn’t forget, did you?” my court reporter asked. I did indeed forget that they had planned to celebrate my birthday early because of everyone’s vacation plans. The way things fall into place, the symbolism, the precision of it all. Me with my camera, wanting to document my rebirth, dressing for the part.

Chin up, Cindy. Turn those puffy eyes forward. I’m finally done with this phase. Finally.