cindy's world

Today was a leisurely day of nothing in particular. The only solid plans Mr. W and I had was to attend a friend and coworker’s artist’s boutique show in Laguna Beach. I bought a packet of stickers from her, a citrus-scented room diffuser from someone who made her own perfumes and bath products, and a beautiful earth-toned string of pearls for my mom from a jeweler craftswoman. Here’s me with the artist Jax.

Since we were in Laguna Beach, we decided to wander and enjoy the sunny day. We window-shopped around the beach stores and ended up at The Cliff, a beachside restaurant, for an early dinner. Here’s our seat.

The restaurant seating borders some small boutique shops, where I bought a pretty blue cat-eye toe ring. Mr. W says that I actually have a very hippy philosophy and make a great hippy. I begged to differ, claiming I’m too conservative. He started ticking off my hippy traits. I’m all for protecting the environment, I’m shunning red meat, I’m anti-big-business — I stopped him here and confessed I recently bought something at WalMart. But I do now have a toe ring. We window-shopped our way back to the car, and decided to find me a rash guard for our Tahiti trip, just so I don’t get completely burned to a crisp while snorkeling. The local shops surprisingly didn’t offer much selection, if any, and we decided instead to drive to REI. Turned out, REI was closed early. I suggested Sports Authority, where we found a slightly better selection and I bought a blue Body Glove long-sleeved rash guard. I also saw some athletic two-piece swimsuits, and I’d been looking for something supportive and flat to fit underneath the rash guard, so I got a new bikini as well. Talk about spending a lot of money without planning to.

On the drive home, Mr. W was tapping out the rhythm of the song we were listening to on my knee, and he said rather suddenly, “You know…I’m the happiest right now that I can remember ever being in my entire life.”
I sheepishly closed my cell phone, on which I was checking email. “Right now? Like, in this car?”
“No,” he said. “In like the past year. And I’ve been alive a loooong time, so this must have something to do with you.” He patted my knee playfully.
“Wow.” I blinked. “That’s the nicest thing that anyone’s ever said to me.” And then something else occurred to me. “But you have a horrible memory, so that doesn’t mean anything,” I said as I popped my cell phone back open again. Mr. W laughed good-naturedly.

But really, I think that comment even beats the last nicest-thing-anyone’s-said-to-me. Yup, life’s pretty good. The only thing that could make it better would be if I dropped those laaaaast few pounds until my goal (which is 118 lbs) before vacation. I dumped weight like crazy when I started a little over a month ago, and it’s slowed down dramatically. I’ve gotta stop making stuff like this for dinner:
Before…tomato sauce, organic mushrooms, organic baby spinach, cheddar cheese, parmigiano reggiano cheese, black olives, minced garlic, sitting on some dough.

After…last night’s homemade dinner with a crispy crust!!

I think I’m gonna have tea for dinner.

I haven’t had much computer access this week since my work CPU completely blew over the weekend, but now I have a new computer at work (sweet!) and McAfee is working again (apparently some programming glitch in its automatic updates blitzed a bunch of corporate computers yesterday and today, which includes half the courthouse’s CPUs), so this will be a catchup post of sorts. Oh, and hurray, my mouse now goes left! (The previous mouse had decided that “left” was no longer a direction it needed to go, and when I complained, I was immediately made fun of for even having a trackball mouse.)

This is my current favorite photo of our newest member of the family, baby Elle.

On the baby front, an ultrasound has determined that I’m reproductively healthy with “plenty of eggs,” so that gives me some peace of mind. I’d always wondered whether I was infertile or something since I’d never had a pregnancy accident. Turns out, I’m just not careless. So we’re thinking we’ll hit up a crazy adventure vacation in Australia/New Zealand and dive the Great Barrier Reef in late October, then settle down and make a baby after. Unfortunately, this brings my birthing age to 35, but it’s better than being pregnant IN Australia. =P

I had a great furlough day yesterday hanging with my old buddy Joe and having a seaside brunch in Laguna Beach. He’s one of few people who would walk with me just to walk, so we chatted while we put in a solid 2 hours walking around the shops in Laguna after eating. Secretly, I had wanted to walk off my mimosa before getting back in my car, but turned out he had secretly thought the same thing of me but was too polite to imply I’m a lush. We caught up and shared stories, good laughs, some good scoffs.

I went home and made a Mediterranean pie for dinner that made Mr. W’s eyes roll into his skull upon eating it. I love that my husband isn’t a picky eater and always loves everything I put together.

Mr. W and I had just spent a whirlwind weekend in Vegas. My father-in-law had hip replacement surgery last Wednesday, so Mr. W and I drove to see him on Saturday morning. My stepkidlet rearranged her work shifts so that she could come with us. My father-in-law is a trooper; he did everything he was supposed to, got up and walked around a couple of days post-surgery, and was discharged earlier than anticipated. Everyone was comfortable enough with his recovery that when Mr. W’s Gamer Bro scored 5 free tickets to see a singing act at the Las Vegas Hilton, the three of us went with Gamer Bro and his wife.

I’m now on Week 5 of the cold-turned-sinus-infection. Most of the symptoms are gone now, but I still get coughing fits (probably due to post-nasal drip). Tuesday, I hacked so hard at the gym that I threw up into my workout towel. Good thing I hadn’t eaten all day so it wasn’t a painful sort of vomiting. =P The antibiotics are all finished, so I should probably be replenishing my probiotics now. It also means I can drink, so I had a little something in the past few days; nigori sake with sushi on Monday, margarita on Taco Tuesday at Sharkees in Huntington Beach (we met up with a couple of Mr. W’s friends there since we had to go pick up our Tahiti travel docs in HB), and of course my mimosa with brunch on Wednesday in Laguna Beach. (Yeah, life’s good.) This morning I was stupid enough to go chew on some peanut taffy when visiting in another courtroom. The syrupy sweetness rolled down my already raw throat and I started coughing, gagging, convulsing. One bailiff offered to Heimlich me. I finally had some water and spit out the mouthful of candy. Okay, thanks up there; I’ll take the hint. I have no business eating candy when bikini days are just over a week away.

I was chatting with a friend the other day via text. She’s in a bad-timing rut, where it seems like everything that could go wrong are all hitting at the same time. I told her to grit her teeth and bear thru the storm, and gave her a happiness challenge. I suggested that she write a list of small easy things that make her happy, such as a hot mug of Starbucks coffee on a rainy lunchtime (it’s been raining off and on for a few weeks now, with lots of sunlight in-between; things are lovely and green!), and to do one of those items each day. She agreed, and I offered to join her in this challenge. Things I’ve thought of so far that make me happy are
* a cocktail with someone whose company I enjoy
* driving and exploring a new local area
* trying out a new restaurant
* spa-day!
* sushi
* listening to 90s R&B and hip-hop while dancing along in my car
* spooning Dodo
I remember when I was having a really bad time some years ago, and my cousin Jennifer advised me to not think about the other person or give him any consideration, and instead go do something that purely makes me happy. Sounded good, but I came up with nothing. I decided then to take better notice of things that made me happy — things that don’t involve a significant other, or even another person, necessarily. Everyone should have a simple hedonistic pleasure once in a while, just as a fluffer to life. …Or something less tasteless.

Yesterday, Mr. W left at 7:30 a.m. to meet up with his friend for a 10:00 a.m. massage, and when he still didn’t return by 1:30p, I decided to go get lunch on my own. I deserved something decadent, since I’m sick AND I’d just run 4 miles and walked another 1 at the gym earlier (I had to do the dreadfully boring treadmill because with these antibiotics, I can’t go out in the sun, or drink alcohol. Or even take multi-vitamins. Claudio had commented, “Jesus, she like a gremlin. Comes with instructions and shit.”). However, I don’t normally have lunch on my own, so I checked with a couple of male friends first, asking if they’d find it odd if they saw a chick having lunch by herself at a sushi bar on a Saturday. The responses were that they wouldn’t think it odd at all (and that given my age, I shouldn’t care if strangers think I’m a loser anyway), so off I went to my favorite local sushi joint on the lake. I hadn’t been there in a long time, since Mr. W is rather tired of sushi and when he goes, he’d rather spend $25pp at the all-you-can-eat Minato Sushi than get $50pp omakase on the lake. Perfect opportunity. And I had one of THE best lunches ever on my own!!

Since I’d gotten there after the lunch rush at almost 2p, the restaurant itself was close to empty, and what patrons there were, were sitting out in the back patio enjoying the beautiful sunshine and the sparkling lake. Thanks to my meds, I was the lone customer at the sushi bar. I had never met sushi chef Fumio before. I asked him politely whether it’d be okay to do an omakase lunch, and he pointed me to a seat in front of his station. He started me off with toro (fatty tuna) sushi, with more diced fatty tuny as a topping. Next course, my favorite fresh raw sea scallops seasoned with a dusting of sea salt and a squeeze of lemon. HEAVENLY and sweet. Then yellowtail belly, the most expensive and indulgent cut of hamachi. He served that with grilled yellowtail belly ribs. I was already getting full, but since we were having a nice conversation, I stayed on. I found out that in Japan, at least when Chef Fumio was there, they didn’t do salmon sushi, one of my favorite fish! The salmon served there is always cooked. What?! To me sake sushi is a staple. He also said that the oh-so-popular seared albacore sushi here is not served in Japan, either. “All the albacore in Japan comes in a can. We call it ‘ocean chicken.’ We don’t eat sushi.” Wow.
The owner of the restaurant, who is usually my omakase chef, walked out and recognized me. “Hey, you haven’t been here in a long time!” he welcomed me. “How come?” Eek!
“I’ve been vegetarian for awhile,” I said, which is not really a lie. I assured him that I am pescatarian now and will be back.

Around this time, Fumio had disappeared into the kitchen and returned holding a clear plastic bag filled with liquid and something brown-gray inside. I watched him happily cutting open an enormous shell, humming as he worked in extracting the edible parts of a giant clam. “Is that live?” I asked.
He said, “Yes, I just got this! I have three of them.” He trimmed some stuff off, separated other parts, and cleaned the cut parts in a bowl of ice water, leaving them in there to soak for a few minutes as he loaded a big round bowl with ice cubes and arranged the giant shells, decorating them with strings of carrots and turnips, and translucent coins of radishes. I had something similar, albeit with abalone, at Toro sushi with Eddie and Michelle, so I knew it was expensive and exotic. I kept looking around outside on the patio, wondering who of these white patrons out there, who had been sent standard rolls that I’d watched Fumio make, would know to order something like this. When Fumio simultaneously finished his humming with his clam arrangement, he lowered the finished product in front of me, saying, “Sashimi, for you!” My jaw dropped. For me? For just one person?! This stuff is so expensive that usually a whole table shares one!
“Oh my gosh, I thought you were doing this for someone outside! I feel so special! The presentation is beautiful! I have to take a picture,” I gushed.
Chef Fumio smiled and said, “Thank you. But I didn’t put on my makeup today, so please don’t take a picture of me.” I laughed at him, and took this:

I expected the texture of this “yellow clam,” as it translates to from Japanese, to be firm, similar to the abalone sashimi I had, but it wasn’t. The taste was most similar to the big sea scallops, tender with a touch of sweet. I couldn’t molest the delicacy with soy sauce, it was so fresh and good straight, with just the dash of salt and pepper he’d put on it.

I now expected this to be an $80+ lunch, but that’s okay, I was prepared for that. And this meal was such a treat. I closed out the tab, and the bill came. Less than $40!!! WHOA, I got special treatment!! As I paid, Chef Fumio made me a traditional Japanese dessert (no charge), the sweet flesh of a piece of Japanese pumpkin wrapped like a bun around a piece of banana, with a slowfall blanket of powdered sugar. It tasted like a guilty pleasure. I tipped just short of 40%, thanked Fumio for the best lunch I’d had in a long time, he told me hopes to see me again soon, and I danced out of there.

I have GOT to have lunch on my own more often!!

Thanks to the generosity of fiscal circumstance last year, Mr. W and I are getting a tax refund that will not only finance a pregnancy, but will afford a hedonistic vacation this spring. Maybe even a second one (we’re thinking Australia & New Zealand) this fall. I’m only going to address one item in this post.

TAHITI, HERE WE COME!
We have discovered Paul Gauguin Cruises. Seven sparkling nights and eight turquoise days cruising on a luxury five-star ship in and around the lagoons and islands of Papeete, Raiatea, Taha’a (more specifically, the private islet of Motu Mohana), Bora Bora, and Moorea! It truly is a dream vacation, something I’d looked into for a honeymoon (which we never took, opting instead to pay for the wedding and house) but crossed off the affordability list. We’re getting a great deal; 2 for 1 round-trip flight fares, a huge discount off brochure price for the cruise. I decided on this over Europe, Asia and Australia because I figure those are places we can go in the future and even take our kid to, and we’re probably hitting Australia for a high-adventure vacation later in the year anyway (our spring is their winter). But I know I won’t be able to justify spending this much money on Tahiti if we have a kid to pay for, plus I don’t figure I’d want to be seen in a swimsuit after pregnancy. Which brings me to something else I’m targeting right now.

I’m giving myself till May to get in bikini shape for this Tahitian vacation of a lifetime. It’s probably the last time I’ll be able to romp about in a bikini (unless it turns out that I’m not able to get pregnant, in which case I’m gonna buy myself a wardrobe of bikinis to make myself feel better) on an extended vacation, so this one matters. I’m not too badly off…I figure I can drop 10 lbs of fat and be happy. I’ve been primarily vegan since booking this trip last week, and I’m getting off my lazy butt where exercise is concerned. I try to do SOMETHING every day. I took last week off and spent the second half of it in Vegas with Mr. W visiting his relatives, and we even hit the gym twice while we were there, as well as eating well, buying groceries for salads and low-carb meals to prepare ourselves while staying at his parents’ (his parents prefer not to eat our “health foods” so we supply our own). College roommie Diana and her boyfriend Eric happened to be there at the same time for March Madness, so we met up. Diana’s a hardcore gymrat, so I felt OBESE next to her.

Although I don’t expect to ever have such a low bodyfat percentage or pop out washboard abs like Diana’s, it did inspire me to push a little harder to reach my 10 pound goal.
While at swanky new Vdara Hotel & Spa’s rooftop poolside hanging with Diana and Eric (where they were staying), I overheard a portion of a conversation between some 20-something guys that made the top-10 list of turnoffs for me.
Guy 1: (walking back to his male friends from the poolside bar) This one chick was checking me out, but I couldn’t see her face. She had a good body, tho.
[Some conversation ensued that I didn’t pay attention to.]
Guy 2: The difference between you and me is that I actually have game.
[More conversation of this ilk while I rolled my eyes]
Guy 1: No, that’s bullshit. Blue eyes are totally better than your stupid brown eyes!
[Were they actually putting down each others’ eye color?!]
Guy 2: You have a really high opinion of yourself.
Guy 1: Well of course! —
Guy 2: I’m not saying it’s irrationally high, I’m just saying it doesn’t work when you walk into a room and chicks can tell you think so highly of yourself.
Guy 1: No, you’re wrong. Chicks dig confidence —
Guy 2: But you’re like an old, fat black guy who still thinks he has game.
Guy 1: No I’m not, cuz I’m not old, I’m not fat, and I’m not black!
Guy 2: I’m not saying you ARE an old fat black guy…

I finally turned around. WOW, these guys need a non-warped, non-circus mirror.

Last, last Saturday (yeah, I know, but I was waiting for Mr. W to load his iPhone photos into the computer) was Eddie’s birthday, so Mr. W and I joined the birthday boy and his brand-new wife Michelle (see above photo) and his brand-new father-in-law Mr. Michelle’s Dad at an Alhambra sushi restaurant. Eddie said that they knew the owner and it was great sashimi omakase, so I was instantly excited. Then I read up on the reviews of Toro Japanese Fusion Seafood and, well, some trepidation grew. The reviews generally raved about the sushi and sashimi, how fresh it is, especially the still-twitching amaebi (sweet shrimp), but complained about the slowness of table service. I wasn’t concerned about service since we were planning on eating at the sushi bar so we’re going to be right in front of the sushi chefs, but I was nervous about amaebi. It seems to be a part of the omakase set and a specialty of the restaurant. I’ve been edging toward being pescatarian because eating animals has been a growing concern on my conscience (ever since my experiences at the LA County Fair last October) and I’d like to be vegan, but can’t seem to wean off sushi. Live shrimp is sitting right there on that cruelty conscience line in my head.

The restaurant was a lot less hole-in-the-wallish than I’d expected. It was actually quite nice inside; clean interior with contemporary decor. Behind the sushi chefs at the bar, a projected slideshow of tropical waters played on the wall. I never saw the final tab as Michelle’s generous father (a weekly regular at the restaurant) insisted on treating, but I have a feeling we easily broke into the $1000s for the five of us. To start, we went through a giant bottle and a small bottle of an exquisite sake, a rare premium that’s hard to find outside of Japan. $200/bottle. Michelle and I, being female, got to sip and savor this sake. Mr. W, however, had to drink it like a man and shoot it, along with Eddie and Michelle’s dad. One time, Michelle’s dad looked over and saw Mr. W sipping the sake on his own and called him out, saying, “What, you don’t have friends?! Why you drink so sneaky like that? When you want to drink, you call out, ‘Hey, friends! Cheers!’ and we drink with you!” And so three shots disappeared into the guys’ throats again. Haha! Course after course of the omakase were handed to us, really unique stuff, like…

…fresh oyster with uni and black caviar. I know I said I’d never order uni again since the last 6 times I’ve had it, I’ve wondered why I was doing that to myself. But I was not going to refuse something that was specially made, and I did not regret it. The uni here was never served alone, so the creamy texture really did add something pretty great to the combination of food on the palate.
This below is amaebi sushi with a piece of uni on top, also delicious. In the bowl is (was) a Japanese potato cut into strips, served with bits of nori and some sashimi. Most of the fish and seafood are so fresh and delicious that no soy sauce/wasabi is needed; the delicate flavors are expertly brought out by light ponzu and lemon mixtures. The chefs advise you when to use soy sauce.

We watched the sushi chef bring out live abalone, slice them off the shell, and serve it sashimi-style to us. I’ve never had abalone like this, SO fresh. It had an interesting tough yet crunchy texture, and is so savory it was almost sweet.

The birthday boy was handed a surprise gift from the sushi chef: lobster dynamite! I’ve never known dynamite to be made from anything but crab and scallops. Wow, what a treat!

Now THIS…is something really special. Toro kama (cheek meat of fatty tuna) sushi. It’s a giant piece of sinewy toro kama layered on top of a fatty melt-in-your-mouth piece of toro kama for a texture treat on top of the wonderful mild flavor of toro, with a swipe of special wasabi sauce. You can order each type of toro kama separately, at $30 apiece. This double layer you see before you is $60 apiece. It was a giant mouthful of bliss. You can’t talk as you chew, but your eyes can roll to the back of your head in sushi heaven, as mine did right after it widened in surprise at the deliciousness I was experiencing. Apparently this is quite a rare specialty; it’s not often the chefs, when they go out to the fish market at 4am to search for the freshest catches of the day, come across such a find. When they do, they call Michelle’s father and alert him, as they did this day that we went. That’s how big a V.I.P. we went with. “BUY it!” he’d told them, saying he was going to have friends join him for dinner there that night.

Now here’s the disturbing stuff to warn sensitive viewers, like me. I have friends who order live sweet shrimp every time they go to a sushi restaurant and it’s fine, but I’m not one of those people. Here is video Mr. W took of just how fresh the amaebi at this place is. The first is the live shrimp in a bowl, about to be turned into sashimi.

I’m going to skip the video in between that one and the following one (because the one I’m skipping shows the chefs physically turning the live shrimp into amaebi sashimi, and I refused to watch while I was there, and I refuse to watch the video now. I’ve never seen this, but if you’d like to see it, maybe I’ll post it due to popular demand. I hope there isn’t a lot of demand.). So this next video shows the shrimp heads in a bowl of ice as “decoration,” and clearly they’re still alive.

And this final one is Mr. W eating his amaebi sashimi (served with black caviar). You’ll notice that he doesn’t realize that uncooked shrimp is soft, so he has, um, some trouble eating this.

*whimper* Are you guys disturbed enough to go Vegan like me? This meal, delicious as it was, was quite the jump start to my following weeks of veganism (which is exactly what I need because I’m aiming to drop 10 lbs before a May vacation).

I was so incredibly stuffed after dinner, I couldn’t believe it. Again, I was glad to be female, as Michelle and I were excluded from this little men’s only gem at the end: male virility seafood shot. Raw oyster, quail egg yolk, gobo root, dunked in special sake and ponzu sauce, topped with chopped scallions and 2 types of caviar. I’ve had something similar to know it’s delicious, but I had no room left after all the sushi, sashimi, soup and ice cream that night.

We staggered over to end the evening with a long chat and visit over at Eddie and Michelle’s new GORGEOUS Pasadena house. I love our friends.

I was sitting on the new couch with Mr. W over the weekend, deep into Season 3 of “Ally McBeal,” when it occurred to me how much I was enjoying myself. We had just come back from Disneyland (where it was too crowded thanks to a cheerleading competition event there), we were curled up with our strawberry lemonade silver needle tea, we have a roof over our heads, I had no worries, and my cat’s so low-maintenance that he pets himself. Dodo has taken to petting his own head with his forepaw when we pet his body. He’d lay on his side, purr, and then the little white paw would pop up and down as he pet the top of his head. Cutest thing.

Aside from Disneyland and Ally, we visited my parents’ house on Saturday. My mom was in the mood for a different sort of dinner so we made our own Vietnamese spring rolls. We’d pick up a sheet of the round dried rice paper, dip it lightly in plate of water, then take it out and put it on our own plate. Next, we’d layer on raw carrots, cucumbers, and cilantro, then add cooked mushroom, a meat and tofu stir-fry dish, some grilled fish, drizzle on some garlic peanut sauce, wrap it up in a roll, and pig out. Then we’d do another and another until we were full. At home, I had a crock-potted beef, vegetable and wild rice stew waiting.

Our biggest decision right now is where to go on vacation. We’ve got 2 weeks in spring and 2 weeks in fall. I’m kind of thinking of these as our last major trips before we’ll have to stop extreme vacationing for awhile, cuz I’ll be 34 this year and I don’t want to have a baby after 35 (the most recent trial we had that dealt with amniotic testing for Down Syndrome didn’t help ease the heebie jeebies for me. Giant needle? EEK!!). We were thinking of a simple vacation to Canada (Niagara peninsula) for spring, but my Canadian cousin Mark in Toronto warned me that their temperatures then would run about 40 degrees if we’re lucky. I don’t want to spend money to go somewhere where I’d be too cold to be outdoors. We can always go to Canada and visit relatives there with a baby in tow, so that can hold off. I guess we can visit family in Taiwan or go to Bathhouse Row in Arkansas with a baby, too. What Mr. W thinks we can’t do with an infant and therefore should do now, is Africa. Aside from the big lions I’m hoping to ride in Africa, the country doesn’t hold much appeal for me. He’s trying to convince me that terrorists will probably not kill us. I’m thinking I need to brush up on jujitsu if he’s not going to bring firearms. Or maybe I can just brush up on my animal communication skills. It worked for the natives in “Avatar.” Apparently animal friends will defend you at the last minute if you’re in need. I witnessed this in “Sheena,” too. I want to do New Zealand and/or Australia for a high-adventure trip which I definitely can’t do with a baby, but our spring is their autumn/winter. I think it’s narrowed down to this…
* Low budget: American River white water rafting (Mr. W wants to go for a week-long training course to get certified in being a river rapids guide, so our stay will be paid for by the school AND we’ll have discounted future trips, plus the potential to earn money if we take a group) in Spring, save up money to go to New Zealand and/or Australia for high-adventure land/great barrier reef exploration in the fall (which will be their summer).
* High budget: European highlights trip in spring (escorted tour that includes meals/hotels/transportation in London, Paris, Rome, Munich, Amsterdam…), Japan/China/Taiwan trip in fall. Or Australia.

Man, we could do high-budget if we hadn’t just bought that piano and sofa set. But I did discover the “movie ballad” accompaniment button on the digital piano on Sunday, and the fun I had with playing on that mode is pretty priceless.

What about Ireland?

Who knew blogging about 3 days would take so much time? On Sunday of Jordan & Chad’s visit, we set off for San Diego, where we finally enjoyed a fully sunny SoCal day. We first had a champagne brunch seafood buffet at Tom Ham’s Lighthouse. These cannons are by the front entrance. (As usual, rest mouse pointers on photos for captions.)

If you think what Jordan and I did was bad, you should see (on Chad’s post) what Chad did with the cannon. Next we hit up Sea World. WHEN did tickets to see a bunch of fish start costing $69?! Holy crap. I felt bad making them come here. I paid for Jordan tho, as an early birthday present, as her birthday was the next day. Here we are in the stands waiting for the Shamu show.

We saw lots of cool things at the Shamu Stadium, such as this…

And this!

And unfortunately, this…

This was taken outside in line waiting for the 4D Muppet Show, and I said, “Hey, let’s take a picture in our 3D glasses!” and as you can see, people weren’t listening to me. Jordan was on the phone, but what’s Chad’s excuse?

We were in the aquarium when I heard someone say, “Hey, come down here so I can talk to you!”

I looked down, and a huge catfish said, “Hello, remember me? Let’s retake that old picture you took a few years ago!” So here’s the old photo from July of 2006…

…and the current my-how-you’ve-grown photo.

Jordan bought a little stuffed animal Shamu back with her as a souvenir. Mr. W tried to take this one.

There are some exhibits and props you can play with and touch, like the above. And then there are others, like a giant jawbone of a great white shark, that’s roped off. If you follow the blog or know Jordan, you’ll know her irreverance for fenced-off stuff. Cars behind ropes, giant bird cages on hotel displays, M&M statues in Vegas…there are many photos of Jordan behind ropes, posing with do-not-touch displays. So when Mr. W, Chad and I saw the giant shark jawbone behind the rope, and heard an alarm go off as a tourist tried to touch a tooth, it became obvious how easy it would be to get Jordan to set off such an alarm. As she caught up to us, distractedly taking photos on her camera, Mr. W said, “Hey, lemme get a photo of you with that shark bone behind the rope.
She looked, and her eyes lit up. “Are there security people around?” she asked, looking behind her shoulder.
“No, just hurry up,” Mr. W said without looking around, aiming his camera. Jordan would later say she thought it suspicious he didn’t even bother checking before announcing there’s no security, as if overeager to get Jordan in the shot, but she slowly squatted down near the rope, took another look around, mouthed “ready?” to Mr. W, then darted behind the rope! INSTANTLY the alarms went off and Jordan leapt out, wide-eyed, as a bunch of people who’d stuck around to see if Mr. W could pull off this prank started laughing. Chad and I were outside the door looking in but wincing as it became clear that Jordan was going to do it; at one point we couldn’t even bear to look. It’s clear who the law abiders are in the group.
Moving on, we looked at all the cool animals in the arctic. Like polar bears…

…and beluga whales…

…and penguins!

Jordan’s comparing the size of the penguins to the size of the gnomes in her house.

And that concludes our Sunday! Oh wait. Afterwards we did go to In-N-Out so Jordan and Chad can taste a famous California burger chain. They were pleased. Aloha!

~ Cindy’s World will be right back after a word from one of our sponsors. ~

Dwaine: Modelo is my beer of choice. It’s light and refreshing, perfect for a get-together with friends. It’s so tasty, too!
Chad: There’s nothing like a cold Modelo to quench that dry throat feeling you get from talking too much when you’re hanging out with friends.
~ We now return to our regularly scheduled blog, Cindy’s World. ~

On Monday, everyone left us. I dropped Jordan off at the airport for her 6:30a.m. flight back to Florida, and Chad grabbed a shuttle for a farther airport for his 11am flight to New York to continue his vacation. Mr. W and I went to work. It was a fun weekend; thanks for visiting, Jordan & Chad, and thanks to all my friends who came out to meet them and hang out with us! See you all next time!

Saturday was spent visiting the beach areas. I had told friends ahead of time that we’d be at the Long Beach Pike where we’d find a restaurant for dinner and then hit up the Mai Tai Bar afterwards, and to join us whenever they’re able. Jordan, Chad, Mr. W and I first detoured to Huntington Beach (because Mr. W wanted to take our visitors on the scenic route), where everyone decided they were hungry enough to eat at Duke’s. We walked down Main Street, enjoyed the sporadic sunshine in between short bouts of drizzle, and porked out with a nice view of the beach. Unfortunately, since this detour took a lot longer than planned, Vanessa had already made it to the Long Beach Pike to meet us, so we jammed there while Vanessa shopped at Borders.

At Long Beach (Jordan’s childhood home town), we stopped and took some photos. Here is the famous Queen Mary behind us. Chad’s being nice and squatting lower so Jordan and I don’t feel like the midgets we are, but unfortunately, Mr. W zoomed out, foiling the attempt to fool the audience.

Jordan wanted to retake the 2008 photos she and I took around Long Beach, so we went off to find the ol’ photospots. Turned out that the little yellow ‘copter from ’08…

… has been turned into a yellow SUBMARINE by 2010. Jordan made me shove my big butt in there anyway and pose for a photo. I’m not sure if a photo was taken by anyone before I leapt back out, screeching. Thanks to the recent rains, the seat was a POOL. My ass was totally soaked! I was NOT a happy camper after that because in the cold, I felt like my butt was turning into ice. That’s why our attempt to replicate this carousel photo from ’08…

…ended up looking like THIS in ’10.

I even tried sitting on the wooden boardwalk and rocking back and forth in an attempt to have the wetness sucked out of my jeans, but turned out, those weren’t wooden planks! They were plastic made to LOOK like a boardwalk. Shenanigans!

But I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t smiling on a ride. Vanessa and James (who’d arrived shortly after we did) caught up to us, and we walked by a huge Ferris wheel. Jordan instantly thought of the great photo ops from waaaay up there, and Chad just as quickly vetoed it, confessing he has a pretty severe fear of heights. None of us knew that before.
But anyway, look at this great shot of Long Beach we got!

I wonder how we got that shot. Hmm. The answer is below…

Honestly, I was surprised Chad took the leap and followed us up into the Ferris wheel. I was going to stay down on the ground with him. But what a trooper! I mean, can’t you just hear Chad’s teeth grinding as he tries hard not to look down?
When we finished wandering and sight-seeing, everyone decided on Bubba Gump for dinner.

It was perfect because Chad’s never been there, Jordan loves shrimp and wanted to eat it for dinner, and it was just underneath the Mai Tai Bar (our final destination). Turned out that Jordan and Chad are whizzes on Forrest Gump trivia, and we thought we’d be a shoe-in for the free dessert we’d win if we answer 5 trivia questions right, but the last question was SO unfair. It was, “What model of car was advertised on the side of the passing bus in the scene where Forrest is sitting on the bus bench?” WTF? Multiple iPhones instantly started googling, but to no avail. Shenanigans!!
On our way out of the restaurant to hit up Mai Tai Bar, our visitors couldn’t resist being in the shoes of Forrest Gump himself.
“My name is For-rest. For-rest Chad.”

Forrest W: “Life is like a box of video games…”

Forrest Jordan: “Wait, how does this go?”

Forrest Cindy: “Life is like a box of…HELP ME GET THESE CHOCOLATES OPEN!!”

Mai Tai Bar was also a hit! The waitresses wore TEENY skirts (Mr. W and Chad thought they saw something when one sat down to take our order), and it was happy hour for a LONG time. Ann joined us there and we all had a GREAT time bonding.

(as usual, rest mouse pointers over photos for captions)

Okay, I’m finally getting around to post photos about my Floridian and Tennesseean visitors’ weekend in SoCal on Feb 5-8. To read Chad’s rendition, see here.

Friday morning started off with a little scare, because bad weather had grounded a lot of planes and for Jordan’s flight, an announcement came that they were reducing the passengers to a mere 49 for weight considerations, and that they were going to call out the names of the lucky 49. She texted me through this, wailing that they weren’t calling her name. I immediately started looking up alternate flights as she was stuck in Vegas at her layover. I found one that left an hour later and asked her to see if she could be standby for that flight, so when she went up to ask, turned out, they HAD called her name, and fifth, too, and she didn’t hear! I threatened to kill her. She had the gall to text back, “Sorry! Want me to get off the plane?” *shaking fist*

Early afternoon, I excitedly picked up Jordan and then swung her by James’ work (a mere couple of miles from the airport) to say hello. This was the most high-security friend visit I’d been to. James had to come out to the Taco Bell parking lot where we were parked to get us and escort us into his building. It was raining, there were puddles everywhere, and the bottom 2 inches of my jeans got soaked. (Mr. W said that it rains in SoCal like 10 days out of the year, and these two choose 2 of those 10 days to visit.) I hopped around, trying to avoid puddles while balancing an umbrella with one hand and trying to pull my pants up with the other. Once in the building, James had to “okay” us to the front desk security; the guy checked our IDs, printed our names on visitor badges we had to wear, put a special sticker on each badge that would change colors if we overstayed our welcome (so that we can’t return the next day). Then we visited James’ lab and then his window office on a different area of the building. We only stayed for 20 minutes or so because James had a meeting (and I was bored), and Jordan and I went back to my house so she could settle in. Soon it was time to pick up Chad from the airport, so off Jordan and I went. Chad was already waiting curbside and hugged us hello while he wisecracked something about the awful gray weather, and then we blasted old school hip hop on the way back. Mr. W had asked me to call him if we were not going back home first, so he could meet us at the sushi restaurant, and so once Chad got all offended that I asked if he’d preferred to eat first or go back so he could drop off his stuff and change or “freshen up,” we called Mr. W and told him to meet us at our favorite all-you-can-eat sushi joint, Minato Sushi.

Jordan was queasy about eating “real sushi,” so we didn’t make her (which turned out to be a good thing for a few reasons, one of which was that the roll she ended up getting was surprisingly HUGE). Chad, however, came with an open mind and an open stomach, and let me just order whatever I felt like. This is a pretty inexpensive restaurant considering the quality of fish they serve, and I told Chad that there were only 2 sushi restaurants I’ve been to which served better fish, but those prices were triple what it cost here. Chad ate everything with gusto and exclaimed enthusiastically that he’d thought he’d had decent sushi before, but he had no idea it could taste like THIS. Yay! Well, now I know why I found the sushi in Florida so sub-par. Apparently it IS sub-par, but people don’t know any better. Until they come to California and hang out with us. Mr. W is slightly concerned we may have ruined Chad to all sushi at home now. Guess he’ll just have to visit again.

Dwaine joined us for a beer at the sushi place and although he didn’t really eat, he did try his first piece of sushi. Salmon. He said it was surprisingly good, and not fishy like he’d expected. Chad grabbed the bill and paid for everyone, which was what I’d planned to do. He said he was happy to do it, considering the entire bill for everyone, including the sake and beers, were less than what he’d paid for his last few dates. So ladies, apparently Chad’s the guy to date if you like expensive outings.

After sushi, we went back to our house to hang out a bit before going out again to BJs Brewery. We ended up never leaving the house. Dwaine said he didn’t know how he could’ve forgotten I’m certified in bartending, as I made Jordan an apple martini. The guys mostly had beers. We discussed social theories on dating for awhile.

Below we see Dwaine schooling Jordan, and she’s SHOCKED at his knowledge base.

A sisters-shot.

We ended the evening around midnight, which was 2am for Chad and 3am for Jordan. They’re troopers, after a day of traveling!

The Calendar
This year, Asian New Year and Valentine’s Day fall on the same day. So Happy New Year’s Eve and Happy Valentine’s Day Eve, people!

I like the above photo because it’s clear that as I’m lighting a giant string of firecrackers, the white boy has no idea about his precarious position. One can imagine that, right before this photo was taken, I said, “Here, Mr. W, hold this,” and he happily obliges, and I’m in a position where I’m about to light, cover my ears and run, and he’s just naively standing there. =D
Claudio & Ann
This is a long 4-day weekend for me, thanks to Lincoln’s birthday on Friday and President’s Day on Monday. I spent my day off yesterday hanging with Claudio for the first half and with Ann the second half. Claudio and I started out our time together how we have always traditionally started our time together — with exercise. We met at the gym and I was game for whatever he wanted to work on, so he slaughtered my biceps, triceps, shoulders and abs. Those are what I consider “minor muscle groups” (which means they’re smaller supporting muscles that get worked out by proxy when I work on “major muscle groups” of chest, back and legs), so since I haven’t been at the gym much lately, I’ve been mainly ignoring them as far as isolated exercises go. Well, I can’t ignore them now! They’re SCREAMING at me and cussing me out as I type this. Thanks, Claudio, my body hates me now. But that’s how he felt when he followed one of my workouts, so that makes for a good day at the gym. After we left the gym, we hung out at the Irvine Spectrum and started out healthy with a vegan lunch and kale, but we soon deteriorated into some Starbucks Frapp drink for him and a hand-dipped ice cream bar for me.

After we parted, I gave Ann a call and she was working from home, so I went to visit her at her new apartment. I helped her set up some new patio furniture that had arrived that morning, played with her dog, had ice cream (I must surely be PMSing), and caught up with her. We had a good time, and I continued the laughter I had from the earlier part of the day into the early evening. Ann’s so funny; she was sad that she has no plans this Vday, so she bought herself flowers. While I was there, she clipped the stems of the roses and irises and stuck them in a drinking glass because she didn’t have a vase (since no one gave her flowers this year). She was in total self-pity mode. I said, “Surely, you’re not actually buying into this commercial holiday enough to feel BAD, are you? Just don’t think about it and don’t celebrate it.” She sadly took out a big container from her refrigerator and put it in front of me.
“Want some fudge? I made Valentine’s Day fudge,” she said in a small sad voice.
I laughed at her. “Why’d you do that?!”
She said, “Well, I still wanted to be FESTIVE!” As I shook my head at her silliness, I watched her reach behind her for yet another container, which she also put in front of me. “And I made Valentine’s Day cookies, too,” she said, offering me round cookies with red heart cutouts in the middle of them. We both laughed at her “festiveness” despite it making her sad.
I did tie some more loose ends that were laying at my feet before I left, though, much like I’d done for my friends the day before, so hopefully things won’t be as bad as she’d thought they’d be this weekend.
Mr. W & Me
When I got home, Mr. W was already home. He’d been at a leadership training thing all day. He told me that everyone there had to pair up and interview the other person, then introduce their partner to the class. One of the interview questions were, “If you could have dinner with whomever you want, whom would you choose?” As people were introduced to the class, he heard about wistful dinners with President Obama, one’s deceased father, other prominent historical figures and current icons. When Mr. W was introduced, his partner said, “This is [Mr. W]. If he could have dinner with whomever he wants, he would choose to have dinner with his lovely wife.” The entire class reacted and people said, “Aw, who in here knows his wife that he’s kissing up to?!” Mr. W explained that he really did think about it, and sharing a meal with a stranger — not to mention an idol — would be too stressful for him to enjoy so the only person whose company he likes (he claims) is mine. He seemed sincere. And it’s probably the nicest thing he’s ever said about me. “Aww, that’s the best Valentine’s Day present!” I told him.
The Lynx & Dodo
But here’s what Mr. W actually offered to buy me for Vday:

Claudio and I saw two male Highland Lynx kittens at a pet store when we were wandering around the Spectrum earlier. They’re genetically desert lynx, wildcats, so they’ve got leopard markings and bobcat tails, slightly longer and very strong hind legs, and huge paws. Plus the little curled and tufted ears are ADORABLE. I’d have two rare breed cats (the Highland Lynx is registered as “wild & exotic”), a Scottish Fold with tiny ears, and a Highland Lynx with curled ears. Plus, it’d just be cool when someone asks if I have any pets, to say nonchalantly, “Yeah, I got a lynx.” Right??? Claudio asked the employee how much the kittens are, and the answer is $1500 each. YOWCH. “They’re cute, but not $1500 cute,” Claudio laughed. Just as well… as tiny as these kittens are now, they’d probably still kill my older mellow Dodo. One of the boys even has 6 claws on each foot! I can totally imagine this cat as the neighborhood pimp. Other cats have to come and offer mice and birds in homage, or they walked away with 6 parallel lines across their faces. “I got bitch-slapped by the Lynx.”

…siiiiiigh…