cindy's world

Vicky’s boyfriend introduced us to a great seafood champagne brunch on Sunday at Tom Ham’s Lighthouse in San Diego. The restaurant has some of the freshest tasting seafood I’ve ever had, and the buffet was just $25 a person. The big window overlooking the city skyline across the water was great, and service was more than tip-worthy. Our waiter kept calling champagne “grape juice,” as in “Ready for some more adult grape juice?” I didn’t know champagne was made from grapes. But I guess everything is. After brunch, the four of us walked around Seaport Village and explored the shops. There was a jewelry place that had a nice little selection of Alexandrite, so I got all excited, but then it turns out it was all simulated. Ever since I made the very difficult decision to turn down a $1000+ genuine Alexandrite/diamond/white gold ring on the cruise Mr. W and I took in February, I’ve been regretting it. Although the simulated Alexandrite at this place claimed to be better quality than natural Alexandrite, I did not see the dramatic color change from purple to blue-green when I put my ring-clad finger out the window into the sunlight. Mr. W noted that a genuine Alexandrite ring would make a better engagement ring for me than a diamond, because it’s my birthstone and it’s a rarer stone than a diamond. I agreed, and recalled a time when I’d told an ex a few years ago how I’d prefer not to have genuine diamonds because of the violence surrounding their mining in Africa. I’m gonna have to go another cruise again for the ring, it looks like. =P

I washed my car for the first time Saturday morning. Drying is a pain in the arse! Chamois, my butt! Those things just smear the water around.

Having just returned from our morning 3-mile run (not bad, considering it was freaking sunny and I despise running in the sunlight, but the conversation made the run feel shorter than the half hour it took), I suddenly had a thought and asked Mr. W, “When does that show Shark premiere?” He said, “I think it was this past Thursday, you just missed it.”

WHAT?!?!?! I’ve been waiting for that show FOREVER, since they filmed the pilot episode in my courtroom! Upset, I ran a search on the ‘net.

“THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 21,” I said. HMMPH! So, 10pm in 2 Thursdays, guys! On CBS! Most of the courthouse scenes would be filmed at my work. They used the front of the courthouse entrance, the main lobby hallway, the hallway outside my courtroom and outside the public defender’s office, and they re-did my jury room to make it look like an interrogation room cell. They put up fake walls and stuff. You know what was cool about that film crew? They were supposed to restore the courtroom to exactly the same state it was in before they redressed with their props, but they returned it to us in BETTER working order. They patched sections of our wall, fixed the door so it’d close smoother. My gawd, private industry people are brilliant. It takes me so many phone calls and going thru layers of incompetence to get someone in here thru County to fix my stuff.

Yesterday evening I watched the series premiere of two Fox sit coms, Til Death and Happy Hour. The humor was odd and witty, and I found myself chuckling aloud. I think I relate to Happy Hour more, because the theme of the show so far is about getting on with life as a single person and enjoying your post-relationship freedom. Til Death is a comedic gripe about married life, contrasting a long-time married couple and their newlywed young neighbors. I’m glad that I have new TV shows to look forward to on Thursdays again. I miss fresh episodes of Friends.

This morning I reached a new low, if low can be used to describe what I did. I noticed two light-colored smudges on the inside of my back seat passenger door, but I had nothing on-hand to clean the smudges with, so in my garage, with the garage door wide open, I lifted up my light-colored gauzy pretty skirt and rubbed the stains off my car with the inside of my skirt. My priorities are wack. Today, only 2 people brought up my car to me. I think the novelty is wearing off.

The plan yesterday was to meet up with college roommie Diana (who’s visiting LA this weekend with her Mr. Big) and some other people over at UCLA/Westwood in the late afternoon, and then Mr. W and I would go to our anniversary dinner from there to The Stinking Rose on Restaurant Row in Beverly Hills. Because, you know, one year together is enough time to emanate the stench of garlic through your breath and pores without fear the other party would be nauseated enough to leave you. The timing ended up being far off what with Diana’s running around and our errands before we could leave to LA, so we didn’t touch base at all. Today, however, promises solid plans to meet up with everyone for dim sum brunch, hanging out all day, and then a dinner at Killer Shrimp. YUM! Well, it’s as solid as it could be considering Diana is probably still toasted from “free flowing alcohol” last nite at the concert they attended. I hadn’t even heard from her about when and where we’re supposed to meet today, so of course the alcoholic consumption is just a venture, but knowing her, I’m probably right on the money. I’ll wait till 9:30 or so to call her and wake her up.

P.S. Dinner was great. The food, as always, is amazing at the place where “we season our garlic with food!”. Service was consistent with the amazing great service I’d been having all-around these past few weeks. Mr. W and I had some good productive conversations, and by good and productive, I mean that they were complimentary to me. =) The first was about my little black chiffon skirt, which Mr. W said “is sexy as hell.” I’m such a bad compliment-taker. I deferred it with, “I didn’t know hell was sexy.”

P.P.S. I entertained the thought of bringing along my laptop so we could do a Diana-Cindy Crossover Blog Event, and then realized/remembered that her Mr. Big doesn’t know about the existence of her blog, so I had to can that idea and remind myself not to mention the word “blog” when in their vicinity. I hope I don’t slip. Oh, the life of a secret blogger who likes to talk about her men on public web sites. 😉

I don’t know why I bought an annual pass to Disneyland because I don’t like kids. Well, that’s not totally true across the board. I dislike unruly undisciplined kids running amock within touching distance of me. Hence, Disneyland. I dislike it so much that Mr. W and I got into a fight about it. Some stupid kid kicking the back of my seat through the entirety of the Aladdin Show at California Adventure put me in a pissy mood, and when we met up with Vicky and her boyfriend for fireworks, Mr. W brought up that I didn’t even enjoy the show because of some kid. So I explained to them that a stupid boy was kicking the back of my seat and I’d turned around and looked pointedly at his feet and his dad didn’t do a darn thing about it. And then Mr. W announced to me, “You’re too uptight. You need to calm down and relax.” It took everything I had not to turn around and pop him.

Here’s another example of bad parenting that night. The Hyperion Theatre at California Adventure seats 2000 people in 3 different levels much like a classy broadway show setup, like where they hold the Academy Awards. Before the Aladdin show began, 2 boys, about ages 11 and 8, walked to the front of the theatre right in front of the stage, accompanied by 2 Disneyland theatre ushers/employees. “Attention, everyone,” the employees yelled. “Did anyone lose these two kids?” The theatre quieted down as 4000+ eyes stared. The time ticked by. The boys looked around them. “Does anyone know these two kids?” the employees yelled again. People in the audience started pointing and whispering. Among the whispers around me I heard someone say how sad it was that no one was going up to claim the kids. As nothing happened, the audience started back in on their own conversations. “I don’t think the parents are in here, the kids probably ran in ahead,” I said. Someone else said, “How do you lose 2 kids for this long and not know it?” The ushers in the audience called everyone’s attention to look at the boys and see if it’s their kids. Finally, finally, a large Hispanic woman made her way up to the stage and claimed her kids. The 2000 people actually broke out in applause. “This is gonna be a story for show n’ tell when they get back to school,” I said. An older white man to my right said, “She probably didn’t know she lost those 2 kids cuz she’s got 8 more; she didn’t realize they were missing.”

The kid who was kicking my seat was one of 5 people in a Hispanic family. I’d wondered if they’d heard the man’s comments. But I quickly stopped caring when the boy was so absolutely annoying and rude and his parents didn’t do anything about it. I first saw that family when we were let into the gate for the mezzanine level seating. We were waiting in line for about 15, 20 minutes when the usher outside the theatre undid the chain and the first people in the mezzanine line started in. This family ran for the opening from the side, kid holding mom’s hand holding kid’s hand holding dad’s hand holding kid’s hand, completely skipping the line. The usher instantly put out his arm and stopped them, and made dad, mom and 3 kids turn around and go to the end of our line. I suppose if you’re gonna lead your kids to blatantly cut in line, you wouldn’t stop them from kicking the back of someone’s chair, either, even if the person turned around twice to look deliberately at your kid’s feet on the back of her seat.

I hung out with Dwaine earlier today and he said that my dislike for kids isn’t so much a dislike for kids, as much as a dislike for obnoxious bratty misbehaved children, and he theorized that it’s because we were raised to be well-behaved in public and not embarrass our parents. That was a good point, I said thoughtfully, cuz I know that if I did what the kids did, at that point I’d be expecting to get my ass whooped by my mom. But these parents just look the other way when their kids run ahead in line and climb on the ropes and hit other patrons with the ropes that they’re playing with and then kick my leg when they clamber around climbing the walls in line. Grrrr. I made a comment today when Dwaine was admiring my new car’s backup camera on the navigation screen. “It’s so you can see if some kid’s behind you when you’re backing up, so you can WATCH him get crushed. It’s more fun that way.”

One of my most prized possessions in grade school was a pretty large Fisher Price dollhouse. It opens up and you can move the little plastic dolls around the children’s bedroom area, a kitchen/dining area, living room area, and a parents’ master bedroom area. There was also a side garage with a blue door that slid up to open, and a yellow plastic car with 2 holes to plop the dolls of your choice in for a ride, and a smiling dog doll. The back of the garage served as a doghouse entrance. On the house itself were cartoon pictures of things, like shrubbery, curtains, flowerbeds on windowsills, birds. The drawn kitchen window, as seen from outside the house, depicts a cartoon mom smiling and waving from what is presumably the sink. There may have even been a pie cooling off on the windowsill. I played with this house endlessly, charmed by the ways my characters could interact, even ring the doorbell by flicking a small plastic lever that’d spring back up to hit a resonating bell. The characters were always smiling and they always got along. I knew it was unrealistic, and I loved it.

Today, after purchasing my new $93 New Balance stability-inducing running shoes at A Snail’s Pace, I decided to break them in by wearing them to visit my parents. Mr. W had suggested we visit them first and then come back to his place for a short (3 mile) run so I don’t blister when I train in them. When I pulled up to my parents’ house in the evening, my dad was to our left watering the front lawn, and I lowered the window, said, “Hi dad!” and he waved at us. As we waved back, I giggled at how Fisher Price this felt, my dad watering the lawn, smiling and waving at his daughter and her boyfriend, who are smiling and waving back pulling into the driveway. It’s the classic Lego/Barbie depiction of “life.” We got out of the car, walked to my dad, and chatted about the trees. I decided to take Mr. W around the backyard since there’s been considerable changes made since I’d last been out there maybe 10 years ago. My dad walked with us watering all the leafy fruit trees, telling us what each one was. Lime grafted with palmelo, white peach grafted with some other thing I’d forgotten, 3 types of guavas, kumquats grafted with another type of kumquat, and then we rounded the side of the house to the back of the house. “Eh??” I heard coming from the kitchen window. My mom was standing there, presumably doing dishes, looking surprised to see us. “Hi mom!” I waved. “Hi!” she waved back. I giggled again. We walked around the garden looking at the other stuff, the veggies on the other side of the yard, squash, tomatoes, and the gourds hanging from the rafters, some so large they nearly hit Mr. W on the head. My mom came out and talked about the neighbor’s figs. Fresh figs? My mom took us to the other side of the yard and pointed out the neighbor’s fig tree, heavy with large drops of deep purple fruit. Apparently this neighbor can’t get rid of the figs fast enough and constantly invites my parents to help themselves. So Mr. W and I leaned down the slope and picked some fresh figs. They were delicious, soft and syrupy inside. My mom made won ton soup for us and we sat around the dinner table chatting and eating. Then, as my parents left to my aunt’s house to return some DVDs in their weekly Chinese soap opera exchange, Mr. W and I set off for a walk around my parents’ hilly neighborhood as we were now too full to run. First we explored a newly built fancy senior citizen’s recreation center up on a nearby park at the top of a hill. As we strolled along the perimeter, my parents drove by on their way to my aunt’s and I heard my mom’s playful higher-pitched chirp, “Hello!” We waved at them as my mom’s extended waving arm disappeared around the bend. I giggled again. A walk that takes my parents 40 minutes took us over an hour. I was pretty proud of them. It was not an easy walk, definitely very slopey. I didn’t blister at all, and I think I broke those shoes in. After unloading soy milk, yogurt, fruit, crackers, an oven mit, and some Chinese bath salt paste on me, my parents walked us out the garage and we were off.

This evening, in addition to the early afternoon spent napping (I took like 3 naps today, and I don’t normally nap at all), watching interesting shows on TV and Inside Man on DVD, and eating freshly made guacamole, homemade oatmeal-butterscotch cookies, and Ben & Jerry’s “Vermonty Python” ice cream (I just learned that Ben & Jerry’s only uses milk/cream from cows not treated with growth hormones, cool!) made for a relaxing, happy day. Perfectly in contrast to the chaos that will be tomorrow as I go into work to play with the 90 new prospective jurors we’re supposed to pick 15 people from for the 2nd jury of our 4-defendant, dual jury murder trial.

I’m still in the busy criminal court today. I have to say, it certainly does make me feel productive. I didn’t work thru lunch again, tho. I went and ran a 5K with hills, because I wouldn’t be able to run after work. I’m going to Vanessa’s place after work to meet her new kittens, and she emailed me that she’d already told the kitties that their Auntie Cindy is coming to visit them and they’re looking forward to it. I gotta see them before they get too big. After visiting kitties, we’re going to belly dancing.

Sometimes I really like my life. =)

Now back to work.

Yesterday I was engaged in a long conversation with an old friend (who JUST emailed me right now, how weird!) on the drive home from work, and the conversation continued as I plopped sideways onto my chenille La-Z-Boy recliner, which ended all hopes of making it to jujitsu last nite for me. I decided to at least go for a run and try to prepare somewhat for the Disneyland half-marathon coming up in a couple of months, and I changed into my running clothes. Before I even got off the phone with the first friend, Dwaine called me. Turned out he had a hard month at work and was looking for a drinking buddy. So off came the workout clothes, on came the casual going-out clothes, Dwaine stopped by to pick me up in his new ’68 restored Camaro, and we were off.

Actually, it didn’t work like that. After first showing off his car, Dwaine came inside where I showed off my chair. He’d heard about it, but never seen it. True to its reputation, the La-Z-Boy sucked in the bachelor and it took some time and convincing to get Dwaine out of that chair so we could go out. He really enjoyed the motors.

Anyway, Dwaine felt like Italian food so we attempted to go to Market City Caffe in Brea, but it was just closing at 9pm. So we skidaddled over to the Cheesecake Factory near the Brea Mall. The food was wonderful, Dwaine introduced me to a refreshing drink made with Absolut Citron, tonic water, and a slice of lemon, but I ordered a yummy mojito. When the bread came, we found that the foil-wrapped pats of butter were cold, which made them unspreadable. We lamented on this simultaneously and each warmed a pat of butter in our hands. Here’s where Dwaine gets mega brownie points… We were just sitting there, laughing and munching, and I reached for another piece of bread. I scooped up the sliver of butter I had left on my foil and spread it on the bread, which wasn’t nearly enough, but before I could reach for another packet of butter, Dwaine tossed a pre-warmed pat in front of me on the table. He had stopped eating bread long ago. I looked up at him in surprise. “I saw that you were running out of butter and I thought, ‘She’s gonna need more butter!’, so I already warmed this up for you.” How considerate, observant, and gentlemanly! We joked about how a slick a guy would be if he carried around foil packs of butter in his wallet, how one day when it’d come in handy, it’d be more effective than condoms stored in a wallet on winning a girl’s affection, and if you get stuck in a doorway, you can grease yourself out of the situation. I dunno, it made sense when we were drinking. BTW, Dwaine titled this blog post.

He also took the following shot with my camera WHILE driving, with his arm out the window pointing the camera at us. “One of the few benefits to having long arms,” he demonstrated. I was just relieved he didn’t drop my camera on the street, or have a passing car take his arm out.

Of course on the way back on Sunday we had to stop by Solvang.

Early Saturday morning were our tours at Hearst Castle. The weekend was in the 60s, overcast, misty, foggy. It made the tours very comfortable and it was a nice escape from the recent heat wave, but it didn’t do much for our photos. The indoor shots also didn’t come out, as we weren’t allowed to use flash. Here are a few salvageable photos; you can read the captions by resting the mouse pointer on the photos. Hearst Castle in the mist…

The Buildings on the Property (I’d identify them, but I wasn’t listening to the tour guide. Again. Some villa, a main house, I guess.):

Statues were scattered in abundance around the property:

Fruit trees and lush vegetation can also be found on the property:

And of course, the famed outdoor Neptune Pool:

In case that’s not enough water for swimmers, there’s the 22 karat gold plated indoor Roman Pool: