cindy's world

Our room balconies (one off the bedroom, another off the living room) opens into the rocky cliffs of a mountain. We’re awaiting the breakfast thing to open and I found free internet access off of 2 computers in the lobby. Hi, people! It’s hot and muggy here. I get to sit around in flip flops and a tanktop. I hear LA is cold and rainy. Sorry! =D
I have no idea what we’re gonna do today. But I slept well last nite. Lotsa dreams and stuff.
I just looked out the glass wall next to me toward the rocky cliffside and can see the top half of a translucent moon. I’ve gotta take that photo! Be back, hopefully, w/photos.

I’m working through lunch to get my work done so I can leave early today. Mr. W and I are going to Palm Springs for the weekend! It was such an impromptu thing that I still need to rush home and pack before we sit with the other pissed off people trying to get their cars to go east-bound. I’m bringing my own camera this time. Last year when we went, I figured I didn’t need a camera since he was bringing his, and during a hike we both ran back and forth and climbed up and down borrowing and handing back his camera as our artsy fartsy sides saw scene after scene of potentially great photo material. It’s supposed to be overcast and rainy this weekend at home, so we’ll see how it is in the near-desert. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to see some property out there I could buy for seasonal rentals, give myself another tax deduction and alternate income.

Friday night, Mr. W took me to the Stella Adler Theatre in Hollywood to watch “The Body and Soul of a Chinese Woman,” the latest play by C.Y. Lee, the same guy who wrote the hugely famous “Flower Drum Song,” which was later made into a Rodgers & Hammerstein Broadway musical. Here is the synopsis according to theatremania.com:

The Body and Soul of a Chinese Woman follows a young, traditional folk dancer from China as she deals with inner conflicts and struggles to free herself from her cultural binding so that she may live the life that she craves. Her body and her soul are clashing all of the time and her soul constantly provokes and encourages her into discovering herself as a woman by exploring her sensuality and liberating her intellectual being. Her ultimate search for happiness and for true, deep emotional love and freedom is told with humor, sadness, tenderness and pain.

Altho Mr. W felt the play was lacking on depth, I found the play absolutely delightful. And the main character’s living room, I immediately noticed, could’ve been my parents’ living room, or my friends Vicky & Karens’ parents’ living room, or college roommie Diana’s parents’ living room. “All parents’ living rooms, and not the kids,” Mr. W noted. You got that right. Here’s a photo of the set:

We got to Hollywood in the early afternoon and walked all around l0oking at the sights (Mann’s Chinese Theatre, the stars on the Walk of Fame?, most of which names I didn’t even recognize), watching street performers, checking out the many whore outfitter stores (I was SO tempted to buy stuff, but those cheap costumes were hideously overpriced for the quality), had a great Shabu Shabu dinner at Koji’s.

This guy walked up to Mr. W as we were walking and asked if I was his girlfriend. Mr. W actually entertained this guy in conversation as I refused to even make eye contact. He asked Mr. W what his haircolor is, accused him of being old so how did he get a young girl like me?, asked if I had a sister, said I’m pretty, then asked if I was Korean. I found all his questions really offensive. The guy followed us chattering for like 2 blocks. After that, Mr. W for the remainder of our Hollywood trip made sure I walked on the inside of the sidewalks with him on the outside. Oh, in response to the guy’s question about how he got a “young girl” like me, Mr. W had said, “Because men age like fine wine, we only get better with time. Don’t worry, you’ll get there.” I’d rolled my eyes.

Vanessa took me to Lake Shrine in Santa Monica on Thursday, which is a meditation garden and lake honoring every religion through spirituality and nature.

I snapped away with my camera cuz the grounds are just too beautiful not to try to capture it in some small way and take with me. Rest mouse over photos for captions.



Altho ripples on the water catching gleams of sunlight were attractive enhancements, I couldn’t help but wonder what was causing all that bubbling in the middle of the lake. There were several spots like this. Natural springs, I hope?

One of many pretty pathways:

This was a trip: Mahatma Ghandi is actually there. Well, a piece of him, anyway. They built this shrine around the aforementioned piece:

An across-the-lake view of the Ghandi shrine:

Visions of heaven on earth…


No kidding, eh?

Just finished watching The Wedding Date starring Debra Messing (Grace of “Will & Grace”) and Dermot Mulroney (the groom in My Best Friend’s Wedding). It’s kind of a reverse Pretty Woman, and unbelievable in the same way. But sweet and fairy-tale-like in the same way, once one suspends disbelief. It’s probably one of my favorite feel-good movies already. Here are some of my favorite lines that Nick (Mulroney’s character) got to say:

* While giving a toast to the women at the bachelorette party – “Here’s to the husbands who’ve won you, the losers who’ve lost you, and the lucky bastards who get to meet you.”
* Consoling the drunk groom-to-be, who was offended that his best man broke the no-stripper pact and hired strippers to his bachelor party, “as if I would sleep with a prostitute; I’m about to get married!” – “It’s been my experience that a man in love doesn’t want a prostitute. Eddie, you did the right thing.”
* Laying down next to Kat (Messing) on a large bed that she flounced on, after she complains that she spent the whole weekend complaining about her life and she doesn’t know a thing about him – “I’m allergic to fabric softener. And I majored in comparative literature at Browne. I hate anchovies. And I think I’d miss you even if we’d never met.” Reaches out to hold her hand.
* In explaining to Kat why he came back to her after they fought – “When we were fighting, I thought this was over. And I was gonna leave you alone and just take off, but…then I realized, I’d rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.” They kiss sweetly.

siiiiiggggggghhhhhhh…

Our trial yesterday ended at 4p, but I stayed at work till almost 6p to do more divorce files. I’m almost at goal. Blech. I didn’t get home till 6:30p, and by then, especially since Vanessa was home, stressed from work and wanted to treat herself to a nice dinner and drinks, I found it impossible not to ditch jujitsu again. I was starving and had a headache, anyway.

So we went to Market City Caffe where I had way too much wonderful fresh crusty bread, way too much creamy delicious Italian pasta, and way, way too much pinot grigio wine.

Obviously, we were too wired by then to just go to bed or something, so just as I was thinking about maybe watching a movie at home, Vanessa asked, “So what do you wanna do now?” I said, “Let’s go to Bed, Bath & Beyond!” It’s only a few blocks from my house. So we went there, learned it was closed, and instead went to…WalMart! Woohoo! Entering the megastore, Vanessa made a joke about oh no, we’re not gonna get out without spending hundreds of dollars, and altho I laughed, I had no intention of buying anything.

$150 later at the checkout (between both of us), we were remarking astoundedly to the friendly register lady how neither of us really expected to buy the massive quantities of scented candles, tea light holders, large mosaic photo frames, standing glass vase, DVD movies, long-necked lighters, Gatorade, low-rise panties, knee-high hosiery, incense holder, and other stuff I can’t remember cuz we were probably a little tipsy giggling down the aisles and admiring all the REALLY COOL and REALLY CHEAP STUFF that we NEEDED to buy RIGHT NOW in case they RUN OUT and we find we REALLY NEED THAT STUFF later on when it’s TOO LATE. It may be safe to infer that our judgments were a bit impaired. But that’s the beauty of WalMart. Sure, you can’t leave without spending a bunch of money you didn’t expect to spend, but you get, like, a billion items for the price. Costco works that way, too, but at Costco, you get a billion of the same products, in industrial-sized packages.

At one point, when I was clinging onto the shopping cart (we walked into WalMart without one, and I realized at some point early on we should have one; that was the beginning of the end), I had a moment of clarity and said, “I can objectively step away and observe that we are being really lame.” She said something about how being lame with someone else being lame is what’s fun about it. It reminded me of being a lame teenager running thru Thrifty (now Sav-On) with my friends Sandy, Vicky, Ling-Ling, cousin Jennifer, whomever was with me at the time, laughing and looking at all the really cool stuff we knew our parents would never let us buy. Like makeup and razors.

When I’d first gotten home and Vanessa had finished telling me about her most recent work drama, I said, “Boy, we picked a good time for moving in together.” She agreed, as the drama had been rotated between me, then her, then me, and then her, and having a friend at home made things so much easier.

Oh, I’d forgotten to mention in the post about the weekend that on Friday, we decided Vanessa would stay with me another month until her boyfriend moved down and they could find a place together. Yay!

Sometimes the weekend comes and goes, and if I don’t blog about it, I don’t blog about it. But I’d been meaning to memorialize this weekend because it was special to me in a few ways.

On Friday evening, I touched base with Navy Girl Vanessa as I drove home, and learned that she and her boyfriend (whom I had heard a lot about, but not yet met) were at Jamba Juice across the street from the Brea Mall. I got home, changed, and met them there. Then the three of us went to Brea Mall to buy our jujitsu friend Gloria a bday present for her party on Saturday. Since Vanessa paid for the present (a compilation of really cool massage oils, scented candles and lotions from Bath & Body Works), I paid for dinner to pay her back. We had a nice meal and laughter-drenched conversation at a Japanese restaurant close to the mall. Then we came back to my house and hung out in Vanessa’s room where we talked about roommates, cats, the history of religion and of the US as it concerns the middle east, and yes, I was schooled. Vanessa’s boyfriend is a well-informed guy. They left at about 1:30 a.m., right after Vanessa presented me with a 4-pack of Happy Bunny ankle socks. I laughed and said I love Happy Bunny! So now, underneath my black outfit and inside my black ankle boots, I’m wearing pink and turquoise socks that depict Happy Bunny saying, “Like I need YOUR approval.”

Saturday was a friend’s birthday party. Actually, it’s more Mr. W’s friend than my friend, altho I know her too and have met her even before Mr. W and I started dating. It was a beautiful day in Huntington Beach at her house with lots of people there, most of whom I’ve met before at other get-togethers, and a lot of whom I really like. I had a great heart-to-heart bonding conversation with an old friend and her husband. And even if there are troubles on my mind, nothing melts me and puts a smile on my face as surely as when Mr. W sat behind me on the raised stone BBQ pit I was using as a seat and put his arms around me and his face next to mine. There are 6-7 sequential photos of us taken at this time. I’d like to print them out and put them in a long frame that holds several photos so it looks like a filmstrip.

Sunday, my childhood friend Sandy brought her Costco date (she popped his Costco cherry that day so he could buy an Ipod Nano at a great Costco price) to Mr. W’s house and, as Costco date played XBox shooting games, the 3 of us set up our 3 laptops and networked, completing Sandy’s Raytheon project with Mr. W’s expertise in various programs that she and I don’t have and don’t know how to use.
At some point of this process, Mr. W’s daughter popped into the kitchen and complained about being hungry. So as Mr. W was finishing up the project with Sandy, I thought it’d be a good opportunity to take the daughter to grab dinner. I walked into her room and said, “We’re all gonna go eat Indian food for dinner.” She looked concerned. “But I’m not gonna subject you to that,” I continued. “Oh good,” she said, relieved. “So while they’re finishing up, I’m gonna take you where you want to get dinner, and we’ll just bring that back for you.” She choose McDonald’s, and we chatted all the way there, and all the way back, as she told me about her most recent social dilemma at school. And then the 4 grownups headed to a local Indian food restaurant.
The first and last time I tried Indian food was in high school. I was the officer of “International Club,” a social club aimed at exploring cultural diversity and awareness. The first year I was officer, we had a monthly social that would be organized by club members of a particular ethnic background. The month it was India, we watched a portion of a popular Indian soap opera, got a presentation and fashion show on Indian garb and jewelry, and of course, had their homemade Indian food. No one who attended the social that I know of could bring themselves to give Indian food a second chance. I verified this with Grace 10 years after the event. Nevertheless, I’d been saying that I’m willing to reopen my palette. Mr. W was also unenthused about eating Indian food, but agreed to give it another go, provided we find people to come with us who knew how to order. Turned out, Costco date and Sandy loved Indian food. And we had a great time, and yes, great food! I’m so glad we tried that again.

We ditched yoga last nite and watched Better Luck Tomorrow as recommended by my cousin Mark. I was all punchy from lack of sleep anyway, and my body hurts from the ravages of PMS. I only hit the gym once this week (Monday), and went to jujitsu once (Monday), didn’t run at all. Oh well, everyone’s entitled to a week off here and there, right?

I guess Better Luck Tomorrow was pretty well received, and the artsy factors of the movie were done well and interestingly, and I did reassume familiarity with some SAT words such as “punctilious.” The psychological discomfort that this movie leaves you with, however, is not a turn-on. My mind kept flashing back to certain scenes. It is, on a smaller scale, what watching Unfaithful did to me. As much as I could relate to the background of Better Luck Tomorrow better than Unfaithful because the setting may as well have been my old high school in Diamond Bar, the kids may as well have been my peers, the classes may as well have been my own classes, I walked away from both movies with an emotional gasp and gratitude that it’s not my own life that went horribly askew in the way of the characters’ lives. Just as I snapped out of Unfaithful being grateful I’ve never cheated on a relationship and with newfound motivation never to do so, as the credits rolled in Better Luck Tomorrow, I was glad I didn’t roll with the wrong group in high school or college, because it feels like I very well may have misstepped in the same direction. I don’t know that to be true, my moral compass tends to be fairly strong, but the story presented itself as the tragedy of everyman. That may be what’s most artful about the film, aside from the naked exposure of Asian American youth culture and youth (underground) subculture/counterculture.

Oh, yeah. And John Cho turns out to have range beyond the goofy token Asian boy in American Pie and Harold & Kumar go to Whitecastle. This is definitely a film noir.

My bailiff had just booked a $4000+ cruise through Alaska for him and his girlfriend come May. He’s normally pretty frugal with his finances but splurged on a balcony-view room for this impromptu vacation. He said he realized that life really is about the now, and sometimes if you wait, you lose the opportunity. “Did I tell you about the boyfriend my daughter had in high school?” he asked. “No,” I told him.

His daughter was with a boy for 2 years in high school and they went to prom together. They broke up in college because she attended UC Irvine and he went to Pepperdine. In college, he met his future wife, and they married about 2 years ago. They had a great time for a year, but then he suddenly fell sick last December. Blood transfusions and other emergency medical attention couldn’t save him, and he slipped into a coma and died three weeks after having been diagnosed with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia (A.L.L.), an aggressive cancer which hits hard and fast, often in young adults. A.L.L. is what my friend Grace had.* This boy was only 22 when he passed.

My bailiff decided that since he and his girlfriend had always talked about going to Alaska or going on an Alaskan cruise one day, he may as well make the one day now. He can wait for finances to get better, but really, when will they ever be “better” to one’s contentment? (Actually, I’m pretty content with my finances. But I’m not the norm in that.) “I may not have tomorrow, so why wait?” he said. One day you’re here and fine, and the next you (or your loved one) is not. The money will always be re-earned, assuming you’re not throwing all sense of responsibility out the window in buying something you really shouldn’t be buying. But if you can generally afford something, an experience is not replaceable.

I neeeeed a vacation, man! Well, I worked through lunch, so I deserve to go kick some green belt butt in jujitsu for 3 hours tonite. Mr. W offered me a stress-reliever massage if I skip over to his house after class.

*One thing that’s always been of comfort to me is seeing the tons of photos Grace had collected during her short marriage to her husband. There’s them at the Roman Baths, in front of Stonehenge, looking toward the Niagara Falls, in New Orleans. She had a list of places she wanted to travel to, and she got to hit a lot of them, starting from even before her diagnosis. She enjoyed every ounce of her time with her husband and crammed a lifetime of memories into a couple of years. Her life was much like her. Full, vibrant, fierce.

I had talked to Navy Girl Vanessa on Friday morning when she was 80 miles away at her boyfriend’s house (her company closed for Good Friday) and the last thing she said to me was, “See you Sunday!” She did not come home on Sunday, so I figured she must’ve decided to spend another night with her boyfriend and she’d come home Monday morning to get ready for work, like she did last week. I didn’t see her before I left for work. So I figured she went straight to work from the boyfriend’s and I’d see her at jujitsu last nite. She didn’t show up to jujitsu. So I thought maybe she’s ditching jujitsu and I’d see her when I got home. Her car wasn’t in the garage then, either. Now that was weird. I called her and she picked up, and I said, “Not to sound like a mother, but are you okay?” She laughed and thought it was the cutest thing. Turned out she had dental surgery done and it was so painful she took some Vicodin prescribed to her and it knocked her out and made her sick to her stomach, so she took the day off of work. But since she was feeling better and coming back when I called her, we went out for a midnight Thai food run at a local trendy Thai restaurant. And I learned something else.

Spicy Thai + empty stomach + midnight after 2 hr workout = spewage.

I almost called in sick today. Owie. Yes, right now still.

But my point is, fun fun fun! *wince*