cindy's world

Yesterday evening, I went on an impromptu trip to Dwaine’s house (my internal voice always refers to him as “Dwainer-rooney” for some reason) so he could review Mr. W’s refinance estimate paperwork. Dwaine is our preventation prophylactic from getting financially screwed. A cashflow condom, if you will. He even offered to come with us to Escrow to make sure the deal’s straight and in our best interest. Cool beans. After Dwaine and I called Mr. W to give him the skinny on his refi, Dwaine and I had one of our all-over-the-board nice catch-up chats. We shared childhood stories (Dwaine and his twin Andrae were apparently bananabread bandits back in the day), current car woes, cooking, financial mindsets, physical fitness goals, and tons of laughs. At a point we even raised our huzzahs for PMS; I measured my waist size, was disappointed at the number, and then suddenly realized I’m PMSing and bloated so the size isn’t TRULY accurate, and I gave a loud “YAY!” cheer. Being a sport and a friend, Dwaine also raised a fist in the air and gave a “yay,” altho his “yay” was more unsure and less enthusiastic than mine. He explained later that he never thought he’d root for something like PMS and bloatedness.

When I left, I made the statement that you don’t have to be blood-related to be family. I’m gonna write about that in the next post.

I wasn’t going to do a weekend update post, but seeing as how I’ve been in the habit of using my blog as a reference when I see strange charges come up on my credit card statements, it doesn’t hurt. I’ve also used my online record of my life to settle some disputes. Dork, huh?

Saturday: Mr. W and I visited some houses he’d found online thru his MLS search. We always check out the neighborhood and houses first before involving any realtor now, cuz that first house we saw online and got all excited about turned out to be a total dud. We’d met my realtor there and realized as we drove to the area that we’d never live there. The area of the city was dirty, run-down, old, and there were a bunch of illegals milling about on the sidewalks trying to discreetly get hired for exploitatious work. I was so embarrassed to have wasted my realtor’s time. Photos are so deceiving! On this trip, we found some neighborhoods we loved and houses that we were impressed by, so much so that I called Grace’s dad and told him to cancel paperwork for the 2nd shortsale house (the ex-“the one“).

Sunday: Mr. W and I got up bright and early, hit the gym, then met up with Vicky and her boyfriend Glenn for Korean BBQ. Vicky had recommended the place, and it was delicious AND generous in its food portions. Apparently all the small dishes AND all meats were all-you-can-eat. The waitress also kept coming by to cook and turn the meats for us. We had thin beef slices, cubed steak, marinated chicken, bulgogi pork. The included salads staved off the meat sweats. I was also not feeling too guilty cuz I KILLED myself on the weights at the gym earlier, so I figured I earned the right to chow down on so many animals. Lunch was fun and a lot of laughs. We stood outside in the parking lot after we were done and made tentative plans to do outdoorsy stuff in the future. Vicky has, through her interactions with Glenn, become quite the hiking fan. Mr. W was already a hiking freak, so by default, I am going to be doing more hiking. I also promoted a wine country bike ride/wine tasting, which I’d done a couple years ago with the NorCal friends, and it will always be remembered as one of the happiest, most carefree times of my life, a desperately-needed reprieve from my life at home at the time. Vicky and Glenn were in for that, and also were in for my last pitch which I REALLY want to do: rafting down the American River. Vicky had swimming-related concerns, but I convinced her she’ll be fine on the guided raft tours wearing a lifevest. (Or I’d feel severely guilty if she weren’t.)
After lunch, Mr. W and I met up with Grace’s dad at my parents’ house (5 houses away from Graces’ parents’ house), and the three of us went to look at 3 houses. I liked one in particular, Mr. W liked another one, but in the next couple of days following, Mr. W fell in LOVE with the one I’d liked. Today he downloaded photos of this house and they are now revolving background wallpaper on his laptop. We’re waiting for my realtor to come back from vacation (next Sunday) to put an offer down on the house. I figure this gives fate a chance to intervene — if it’s gone in a week, it was never meant to be ours; if it’s there AND the price was lowered due to lack of interest in the current price, so much the better for us.
After seeing the houses, Mr. W and I returned to my parents’ house, where my parents promptly put Mr. W to work figuring out what’s wrong with their surround sound stereo, and installing rear speakers for their sound system. It was so cool to see my fiance stripping the plastic off wires with his teeth, twisting wires together, painstakingly hiding wires around walls and fireplace to hang the rear speakers. *swoon* I told my mom that even if I left him now, she and my dad would’ve gotten their money’s worth from him. She wasn’t pleased with that comment.

Monday: Another low-key day, starting with another drive to the house that Mr. W fell for, an on-foot jaunt around that neighborhood listening to birds sing their welcome to spring. Mr. W and I then washed our cars, knowing that it’s going to rain again this week but not wanting the dirt to pack into cake on our respective paint jobs. Then we had dinner as we watched “Buffy” and “Angel” on DVD (still in succession so the cross-over events would be in line), and ended the evening by hitting the gym again.

Good thing we did the gym 2x, cuz I worked thru lunch today.

Here are a couple photos from Chinese New Year dinner.

Gong xi fah tsai!

What a Saturday. Mr. W woke up and decided that it was such a beautiful day that we just HAD to go hiking. So we grabbed his neighbor-buddy, who just happened to have an annual National Parks pass, and drove out to the mountains to hike. Turns out strong ankles and a good sense of balance is really important as we stepped carefully and hopped from rock to bark to rock to cross the rushing streams. The recent California rain made all the water levels rise and the waterfalls were much wider and faster than usual. I did almost fall backwards into the water once, but the neighbor, who spent most of the time behind me (Mr. W was in front leading and I was in the middle for safety reasons), stepped up and grabbed my arm when my ass was a foot from the ground. I managed to keep my shoes and socks dry until the last stream, tho, when some water ran over my left toes and since I was in my running shoes, the fabric upper sucked the water right in. Man, I was pissed. I hate walking around in wet socks. I did enjoy the doggies on the trails, tho… they just jump right into the water all happy and waggy.

After a long afternoon of hiking, we went to Big Mama’s Rib Shack and pigged out on soul food. Good times.

Another progress update on my projects:
* Roof – Friday, I selected my roofer and left a voice mail with the 2nd company thanking them for their professionalism and blamed it on my association that I’m going with another roofer. In truth, the association left it up to me to decide. I went with the more expensive one that seemed to give me more for my money. But I felt incredibly guilty calling off the second company cuz those people were so professional and so nice. In thinking about it now, I STILL feel bad and almost wish I had another leaky roof to give business to them. =P Anyway, the roof job should begin in about 10 days.
* House Hunting – Mr. W found a really nice short sale in a very desirable area nearby to his current home, and we’ve gone over there 3 times this weekend already to look at it in the day, at night, and met my agent there today. The price is right, the inside could use a little work but it’s not bad at all, and Mr. W really likes the house’s potential. The only thing we both don’t like about it is that it has a pool. Ick. But it also has a huge enclosed patio, so can we say, par-tay house? We decided to put our offer in today. Maybe next summer, my bday can be celebrated at home with a house pool party!

Yesterday was Chinese New Year Eve. After work, Mr. W and I went to my grandma’s house, where my parents were already poised to dig into a Chinese feast, to ring in the new Year of the Rat. (That’s right — if you’re pregnant now, you’re going to hatch a rug rat.)

At one point during dinner, my grandma asked Mr. W in broken English (plus a lot of gesturing) whether he voted in the Primaries on Tuesday. He said that he didn’t, even tho he’d intended to. I obviously didn’t cuz I was at work late and then I went to Vicky’s to do my parents’ taxes until midnight. Turned out my parents didn’t vote, either. My grandma raised her hand proudly. “I did,” she said. We looked at each other.
“So at this entire table, the ONLY ONE who was a good citizen is grandma?” I said.
My mom said dismissively, “She always votes. She also votes in the Taiwan elections. She flies back every year to vote.”
My grandma said, “I vote 91, and I vote 92…” which I took to mean she’s been voting annually for the past 18 years. Turned out, as she started saying “yes”es and “no”s, that she was telling us how she voted on the propositions. She’s informed on the propositions, too? I felt like a putz as she showed everyone her new “I voted!” sticker, which she had in a protective plastic sleeve. Haha.

After dinner, we had an exchange of gifts. Mr. W had designed and embroidered a circle featuring all the animals of the Chinese zodiac, the Chinese word for that animal next to the animal, and the English word for the animal. My dad’s animal (boar) and my mom’s animal (dragon), with their Chinese characters, are on either side of this zodiac wheel. He made a similar one for my grandma with her animal, and framed both. They were impressed and my mom remarked how Mr. W is like my paternal grandfather, who used to make me clothing and baby comforters. Traditionally, the older generation gives the younger generation(s) red envelopes of money, so Mr. W and I made out. We made out so much, in fact, that I felt guilty and returned half of what my grandma gave me and Mr. W did the same. Of course she wouldn’t simply take it back, so my mom stealthily stole a new red envelope from my grandma’s bedroom and gave it to me, and I stuffed it with $120, wrote “To Grandma, Happy New Year! From Cindy and [Mr. W]” on it, and propped it up against her toothbrush in her bathroom.
“You have to call her when you leave and tell her it’s there,” my mom said.
“She’s going to see it, it’s on her toothbrush.”
“Call her! What if she misses it?”
“Only if doesn’t brush her teeth!”
“Call her!!”
“All right!”

When my parents and we (us?) parted ways at my grandma’s door, my mom said her goodbyes to us and said, “Call her!”
“Okay!”

When Mr. W and I were walking to his car at the parking area, my parents, who’d gotten to their cars first, drove by us. My mom paused her car in front of us, rolled down her passenger side window, and called out her car, “Call your grandma!”
“Okay!!!!”

I forgot to call her.

Last Saturday (I know, I meant to post this earlier, but my last week was cRaZy), Mr. W and I went to dim sum with my maternal grandmother and my parents. While eating, my grandmother mentioned a grove of 150 cherry trees donated by a Japanese benefactor to a fairly local city park. The cherry blossoms should be blooming, she said. Off we all went after brunch to see the cherry blossoms.

Turned out the blossoms weren’t in full bloom yet; the trees were rather twiggy, but the early blooms were beautiful and incredibly fragrant. Thankfully, this was like the one day in 2 weeks when it didn’t rain.
3 generations of women:

my immediate family:

On our walk thru the park, my dad saw a low leaning tree and tried to hop on with his butt to sit on it. He missed and landed back on his feet. My mom laughed at him and I told him it’s too high to do that. So he turned to me and challenged me to walk onto the tree trunk from the base without using my hands. Which I did.

After I triumphantly turned around, I saw that they’d deliberately left me behind.

Envious at all my tree-climbing fun, Mr. W found one of his own.

And that was our day with blossoms. The end.

(as always, rest mouse pointer on photos for captions)

I guess I never wrote about what I did on the long weekend (Hippo Birdie, MLK!). Mr. W and I looked at a couple of houses Saturday morning and the one I thought I’d fall in love with — a newer million-dollar home with great photos — I hated. Another that I didn’t think I’d like — an older home whose photos did not do it justice — I loved! Timing isn’t right, tho…we’re still just browsing for now. Unless some crazy deal turns up that we just can’t say no to. The market is still going south and I’d ideally like to purchase all my properties at rock-bottom prices.

After looking at homes, Mr. W and I picked up his daughter, and the three of us drove to Vegas to see his parents. I had a great time! Thanks to Daughter, I finally saw P.S. I Love You. I cried through the entire thing and blamed it on PMS. It was Daughter’s third time watching it and she still cried. Mr. W, the cold-hearted brute, remained unmoved throughout the film.

Driving back on Monday, the three of us stopped by my parents’ house and played with their professional karaoke. Daughter was probably the only person who’d ever sung at my parents’ house who truly knew how to sing. Her clear voice reverberated throughout my parents’ new hardwood floors and non-acoustic ceilings. Her Whitney Houston songs were likely more pleasant for my mom than when she and I duetted Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me.” Mr. W did not look pleased when his young teenage daughter and his future wife sang and rapped about banging next-door neighbors butt-naked on the bathroom floor and counters and getting caught on camera. I told Daughter, “I’m glad MY parent doesn’t know slang!”

I like hanging out with Daughter. She’s a load of giggles.

I met up with commenter ‘a’ yesterday after work at Mochilato in Irvine. Turns out she lives a few miles from Mr. W’s house. Mochilato is a new dessert restaurant that serves a variety of Japanese mochis with a contemporary twist; instead of just the sweetened red bean paste inside the chewy sweet glutinous ball, they have peanut butter (which I had), white bean (which ‘a’ had), no filling and a variety of other fillings I’d forgotten. The best filling is the ice cream mochis. Not just the traditional green tea or red bean fillings in these ice cream mochis that you’d get in a sushi restaurant; this place had tiramisu, hazelnut, chocolate hazelnut, an entire counter of colorful ice cream filled mochis of many different flavors. The restaurant also serves gelato and Asian-style shaved ice with Asian-style toppings. The best thing about the location aside from its easy-on-the-eye and tasty-in-the-tummy bite-size desserts, is that it’s very large for a snack shop. The front half of the restaurant is all well-lit, leather-bound seating area with large tables that seat 8 and little tables that seat 4, and then deeper into the restaurant is the food area that resembles Haagen-Dazs meets Starbucks. (Yes, they serve coffee, too.)

‘a’ ordered a white bean filled pink mochi that she said was surprisingly good so after we hung out and chatted, I ordered one, along with 2 other mochis, to bring back for Mr. W. I’d wanted to try a bite of the white bean mochi, but by the time I turned around, Mr. W had stuffed the ENTIRE THING into his mouth. =( Who eats mochis like that? Guess I’ll have to go back to buy my own.

Anyone wanna come with?

Mr. W and I had a very low-key New Year’s. For the first time since we’d been together, he wanted to stay up (and did stay up) till midnite to toast the new year in. I asked why he’s bothering for this year instead of sticking to his 9pm bedtime like all the previous years. He said because the year we’re toasting in would be “our” year, the year we get married. =) I do not like champagne. I’ve decided.

New Year’s Day, we mostly stayed in and watched “Angel” and “Buffy” on DVD. As we finished Season 5 of “Buffy,” Mr. W’s daughter stopped by to give us Christmas presents. We hadn’t seen her for weeks. She gave Mr. W a big Jack Skellington coffee mug (he’s a huuuuuge fan of Nightmare Before Christmas). Before she gave me my present, she hid it behind her back and explained that it comes from the Disney movie Lilo and Stitch, one of my two favorite Disney movies, and said, “You know how that movie’s all about ‘ohana’ and family?” She handed me an adorable small figurine of Stitch playing a ukelele, which is dangling from a curved wire attached to a clear suction cup. “You’re gonna be family and he’s blue and your car’s blue,” she said.
I was touched. “Oh, now I love it even more!” I said and gave her a big hug. Starting this morning, Stitch hangs from a corner of my windshield, bobbing and twirling and playing the uke.

My mom made out really well this holiday season, too. It all started when one of the prongs on her engagement ring broke. She and my dad took the ring into a jewelry store and asked if they’re able to affix another prong. The jeweler examined the ring and said, “You know this isn’t real gold, right?”
My mom was shocked. “What? It’s 18K white gold! It’s even stamped so inside the band!”
The jeweler said he’s pretty sure it’s not real gold, the weight isn’t right, but they’ll test it in the store’s lab to make sure. My parents were shown samples of silver and gold, and what happens when a particular chemical solution is dropped on them. Then they watched my mom’s ring get tested. Yup. My mom’s ring is silver, with gold plating. They tested their wedding bands, too, which were purchased at the same place as the engagement band. Same shit. My parents had been swindled for the past 32 years.
Luckily, the diamond tested to be real, and of a pretty good quality. (They’d gotten the stone separately at a place recommended by some friends.) My dad had my mother select a new ring setting at the store, and the lab immediately switched the diamond onto a new very chic white gold band covered with small accent diamonds. Feeling bad for my parents, the salesperson took out a tray of good-quality Russian cubic zirconias, and had my mother select one to put into her old (fake) engagement ring, so that she could still wear it for sentimental value. For free. And then while my mom watched the diamond setting process going on at the lab, my dad wandered around the store and bought her an amazing 1.27 carat diamond solitaire which he had mounted onto a white gold pendant that looked to be a set with her new engagement ring. Money was earned to be spent, he said, and they’d been frugal and saved for so long that they can afford to spend some of it on themselves now that their child is independent and they aren’t saving for the next big thing. Besides, he reasoned, he didn’t waste the money; he simply changed it from cash into a different form. The diamond will hold value and can be resold later if need be. It’s not like he blew it all gambling or traded it for junk. True, true.

My mom got to pick up her new pendant this last weekend after she got recent liver tests back from her doctor. The cirrhosis is still there, but they have it under control now with the medication they’d put her on the past 6 weeks. The drugs did their job and they can now drop one of the prescriptions. So it’s a good start to the new year all around.

Saturday evening, after the whole dress ordeal, Dwaine and Andrae came by my house. Dwaine immediately spotted my camera sitting on the living room coffee table and proceeded to flip through the photos. There were photos of me in three separate wedding gowns that Vicky had taken a week ago the first time I was at David’s Bridal. “Is this the dress you got today?” Dwaine asked.
“One of them is.”
“I like the simple one.”
Could it be? A man’s seal of approval on the plain dress? “Which one?” I asked him, looking over his shoulder.
He navigated through a few photos. “That one,” he said, landing on the dress I’d bought hours ago. Yay!
Dwaine played with my camera a few minutes more and figured out how to set it up on timer, then propped the camera on my wet bar counter and told Andrae and I to stand for the picture. It took a few tries…

My, uh, collar bones look good?

this is the most effective one ^^

Finally, a decent shot, except that my static-pattern sweater makes me look ultra-wide. At least the men look good. (Then again, when don’t they?)

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

We grabbed a quick bite of pizza in Brea, then watched Will Smith’s movie I Am Legend. It was a toss-up between that or Sweeney Todd, but since I’d seen Legend and don’t care to see Sweeney, we let the gods of fate decide based on movie times. I was actually glad to see Legend with them again, because I caught a couple of things the second time that I didn’t the first and I always enjoy movie plotline and psychology discussions with witty funny brainiacs. We grabbed a drink and appetizer at nearby Taps Fishhouse & Brewery after the movie and talked the night away. And by that, I mean that I was home by 11:30 because we ARE in our 30s now. Heh.

Everytime I’m out with these guys, or either of them, I’m spoiled to the hilt. “Your money’s no good here,” they tell me, and paid for my pizza, movie, and drink. Doors are opened for me, in the short walks between parking, restaurants, and movie, they make a conscious effort to walk with me and/or on either side of me protectively. In the night chill walking back to the car, Andrae stripped off his wool coat and put it around my shoulders. =) I feel guilty that they treat me as one of the guys and yet don’t forget that I’m a girl. Good times.