cindy's world

Speaking of rays of light, I’m right now in touch with Diana, who’s emailing me on her Blackberry from Cabo where she’s vacationing with Jen at the Dreams Resort.

From Diana:
Como estas? Estamos muy bien. Esperamos que tu estas aqui tambien.

Diana and Jen at los cabos

Me:
I see you have BB service at Cabo, unlike at Cancun. And you took, uh, Spanish lessons? Glad you’re enjoying yourselves there! Bring pictures back with you!

Diana:
Yep-new bb has gsm but I have barely used it, which is good. Jen took spanish so she told me what to write. It’s beautiful here but different from cancun. We are leaving in a few hrs. I don’t want to go home!

Me:
haha, you never want to come home. But you have to be back in time for V-day! =) We miss you, and we want to hear how your trip went! We want photos! Now you have something to blog about. (Like how you didn’t miss the boyfriend.) How’s the tan? It rained this past weekend, and Mike says it was raining up north for a week.

Diana:
I know-these resorts are just too comfortable. I will definitely blog.

The tan is AMAzing. All w/o a sunburn because we were slathering on spf 50 all day long. Jen has the pix so I will have to remind her about uploading.

Me:
What color is the water????

Diana:
Dark blue, like hawaii.

Me:
Maybe I’ll blog for you, sort of. I’ll refer an update on your blog to my blog.

Diana:
Ok-that works. Say that this trip is really great and totally want I needed, but very different from cancun. 🙂

I’ve been way too complacent with my Roth-IRA. When that sucker originally opened way back when I was 21 (way, way back), the interest rate was pretty decent, and I’ve maxed out my contribution every year. Now, it’s at a pittily 0.50%. I mean, come on. If I withdrew all the money in that account and had it sitting at home in cash, I’d earn more value in collected dust on the surface areas of the bills than I’m earning at the bank.

So here’s where I need help — does anyone know whether I can simply transfer the funds in a Roth-IRA into another, better, more lucrative Roth-IRA? And if I can roll it over that way, does anyone know of a good Roth-IRA for me to roll my current pittily one into?

I’ve been lazy about being robbed on the Roth-IRA deal, but seeing the statement now is making me more salty than ever. I mean, I’d earn 5% more interest if I stopped contributing to the current Roth-IRA and put the same moneys into my Emigrant Savings Account. That’s not right!

Vanessa came over last nite and for some time, sat on the floor with Dodo and petted him as the little boy ate up all the attention. And then she did the Dodo no-no, which is touch him on his tummy. Apparently her kittens like to be tummy-rubbed, but Dodo just goes into defensive mode. I saw her pull her arm back really quickly, as Dodo’s white paw whipped through the air in a blur. I heard Dodo’s irrate “Grr!” of dissatisfaction.
“I forgot!” Vanessa said. “What do I do now?”
Dodo was now glaring at her, having rolled over to his side away from her.
“Oh, just leave him alone for a few minutes to get over it and he’ll approach you and get all affectionate again, like ‘I’m sorry I swatted you! Please be my friend again!’ ”
A minute later, Dodo went back into his passive “Err?” as he rolled onto his feet, trotted over to Vanessa’s side and leaned against her arm, meowing his apologies. And then everything was normal again. “My cat’s so predictable,” I said.

This morning, a coworker whose kittens I’ve babysat in the past while she was out of town emailed me:

“Morning…I have some random kitty information to share with you:

(1) Scout–Scout was sick (vomiting orange all over my carpet for a day and a half) so I took her to the vet. He gave her a shot, and she’s fine. He also had to take a urine sample to see if she had a UTI. I’m picturing trying to get her to squat over a cup and voluntarily pee. Not so–the vet felt her tummy and said there was pee in her bladder. I held down Scout’s legs and he injected her and withdrew pee. Makes sense, but who knew?

(2) Gabby–I think Gabby is destined to be a circus cat. I started doing Pilates recently and leave the big ball in the living room. The cats kick it around on occasion. Yesterday, it was resting by the chair, so Gabby climed on the ball and actually took 4-5 steps on the ball as it rolled underneath her. She did it twice, both times resulting in her falling off into something. But still…I see some talent there.

I bet Dodo doesn’t do anything that interesting.”

I wrote back:

“1.) I JUST learned yesterday from my friend that fish tends to give kitties bladder infections because of their high acid content. Who knew? Not I. So now my friend only gives her kitties food made from chicken and/or turkey. I hope Scout feels better soon.
2.) I saw a lion do that at the Honolulu zoo, except the ball was made of cement and about 4 feet in diameter. I would’ve thought Scout would play around like that, since my impression of Gabby is…well, I don’t have one cuz I never see her.

You can’t have Dodo do that…he’s an old kitty now! We figured out last nite that he’s 10. But Dodo’s good in other ways, such as sensing when you need a cuddle, or when your black pants are in dire need of some white fur residue.”

Don’t you all want cats now? Vanessa, my coworker and I all don’t have kids, so we talk about our kitties like they’re our children.

BTW, Vanessa and I went to sushi last nite and because we split a rather large bottle of sake, we found it advisable to avoid the gym. So I ate 3 square meals yesterday, and I didn’t work out at all. Come Saturday I’ll probably not fit in that dress anymore.

I heard this on the radio news but didn’t hear the location and the arrest date because I wasn’t paying attention until a few key words entered my ears. You’ll see…

A 33 year-old man was found naked, laying on a tree stump, masturbating just off a nature trail. He was arrested for indecent exposure. Shortly after he was confronted by the authorities, they also charged him with possession of a concealed weapon, because he had a 6-inch (or maybe longer, I wasn’t sure I heard it right) metal ice pick, covered in duct tape, inside his rectum.

It’d never occurred to me to get off on that. “I can do it in public…ooh! The danger of being caught…ooooh! And to be completely naked so that if I were seen, there’d be no getting away or an excuse that I was just taking an emergency pee break…ooooh! And I’ll put an ICE PICK up my ASS! ooOOOooOOOohhh!!!

I’m not sure if I’ve ever written something based solely on request before, but I suppose there’s a first for everything. On the last post, the comments revealed that some readers had misunderstood the title to think that I was about to post some information that may be “too much information” for the general public. Thankfully, the post was rated PG. And yet, there was some disappointment about the family-friendly nature of the post, and even a request for a real TMI post. So here it is. If you don’t want to subject yourself to TMI, you don’t have to click on the “more” below.
(more…)

An earlier phone conversation between Mr. W and his 17-yr-old son…

W: Hey, what’re you doing?
Son: I’m playing “Guitar Hero” [at mom’s house].
W: Playing “Guitar Hero?” You’re not hanging out with your girlfriend?
(We just found out earlier today that son asked a girl to be his first girlfriend yesterday, and she said yes.)
Son: Yeah right, you think I can get my girlfriend to play “Guitar Hero”?!
W: Your girlfriend doesn’t play “Guitar Hero”?! What’s wrong with her? My girlfriend plays “Guitar Hero”.
Son: Yeah, I know…you have a tight girlfriend.

And that would be the first compliment Son’s ever paid me. 🙂 Blogworthy moment. Unless he was being sarcastic, which I hope he wasn’t.

I walked out to the parking structure with my gym trainee yesterday evening. She asked what I had planned. I said I may just watch TV on the couch until I fall asleep, which is a great luxury cuz I don’t have kids to pick up, cook for, or otherwise tend to. Driving home, I knew I had other options, too. I’d planned on going to jujitsu this week since the guilt has been driving me a bit batty. But it felt too cold to walk the 2 blocks from the parking area to the dojo. Childhood pal Vicky had called the other day, and I know she’s got more free time now, so we may plan something. Navy Girl Vanessa had invited me to a fitness class at 24 Hour Fitness that seemed interesting if I wanted to drive all the way out there. I also called James to see what time he was getting off work — not till late, he didn’t expect to be home till closer to 8p, but he left it up in the air after that (since he doesn’t sleep, anyway). Mr. W had also called on my drive home and said if I get bored, to go over to his house and play more video games with him and his bro.

So after I got home, I made some noodles for dinner and ate that while watching TV. Next thing I knew, it was 4am, “Cops” was on TV (no wonder I was dreaming about catching criminals), and 2 out of my 4 previously lit candles had burned themselves out. I blew out the remaining candles and went upstairs to bed.

Earlier at work, I received an email from Vanessa who asked if I ended up going to jujitsu, and confessed that she’d missed the workout class at the gym. She said she put some fish in the oven, sat down to wait for it and the next thing she knew, it was 7pm, she’d missed class, and the fish was burnt.

Mr. W called earlier to see what I did last nite. I had to confess that I didn’t do much of anything. He laughed at me. I said that Vanessa had done the same thing, except she burnt fish instead of candles. He said it’s lucky we didn’t burn our houses down. I said that’s why we used to live well together; I was awake in the early evening so she wouldn’t have forgotten the fish, and she used to blow out my candles in the wee hours when I fell asleep watching TV. My college roommie used to take the textbook out of my hands and turn off the reading lamp when I fell asleep. Haha. Some things never change.

Mr. W, his bro and I had lunch at Original Mike’s today, where I watched his bro consume an entire full rack of ribs. (“You can’t finish a full rack in one meal here!” “Oh yeah? Watch me.”) Then, walking toward the Prius, Mr. W ordered me to drive back to his house despite my protests. I’m really uncomfortable driving people’s cars, especially their new cars. I go through a paranoid period when I get a new car, so I’m pretty sensitive to other people’s PP, too. “Just do it,” Mr. W insisted, “And you can see what it feels like to drive a car with only 4 cylinders.” Does a Prius actually have 4 cylinders? It has pretty decent torque for 4 cylinders, but it doesn’t jump and fly into warp speed the way my IS350 does. I was secretly relieved. I’d have been mad if I could’ve spent $10K+ less on a car that is more fuel efficient (600 miles to the 12-gallon tank) without sacrificing the power. The Prius is perfect for Mr. W, however, because he gets the headroom in the dome-shaped roof of the Autopia-looking car, and crazy gas mileage, and it’s small enough to fit in a garage unlike his last few vehicles when he was in a run of 4 or 5 Toyota Tundra double-cabs, and it’s pretty affordable in the mid-$20K range. Plus it has most of the bells and whistles of a luxury car, i.e. touchscreen navigation system, back-up camera, upgraded speakers and 6-disk CD changer. He doesn’t have my tooshie-toastin heated seats, tho, but that’s okay for him cuz he also doesn’t have to deal with leather, either.

I whole-heartedly delved into Mr. W’s little boy hobby yesterday. The three of us (Mr. W, his bro and I) started XBox 360’s “Marvel Ultimate Alliance” at 7:30p and turned it off at…uh…2am. Our characters went from Level 1 to 12. The guys plan on finishing the game before bro goes home next weekend. Yikes! It’s like high school Nintendo addiction all over again! I enjoyed playing the character of X-Men’s Storm, except she seems to be a weak combat fighter. She’s just cool cuz she can fly so she gets across the screen quickly. I can’t seem to aim her lightning bolt attacks very well, so after half an hour or so of being Halle Berry, I played the rest of the game as X-Men’s Wolverine. Now that’s a boy who can jump right into the heart of action and slash some enemies up! Playing Wolverine scratches an itch that road rage creates. How awesome it would be if I could leap over my car, yank some asshole driver out of his Corolla and do a double hook punch into his chest with metal blade claws. GARGH! After going to bed I dreamt the game for another 6 hours.

Speaking of cars, I brought the Lexus in for its 5,000 mile first service today. It was complimentary and the invoice didn’t state how much things would have cost had they charged me, but the people in front of me in the checkout line had this conversation with a young-looking, rather air-headish receptionist/desk worker:
Lexus desk worker: *handing over invoice* That’ll be [some price, I wasn’t listening yet] please.
Lexus owner’s boyfriend: That’s an expensive oil change!
Lexus desk worker: *defensively* Oh, they do much more than just an oil change. This is the car’s first major-major service. *looking at invoice* Oh, they gave you a great deal on the brakes!
Lexus owner: *dubiously* They did?
Desk worker: Yeah! They’re normally $400, and here they charged you $432.
Owner’s boyfriend: *looking at invoice, correcting desk worker* $332.
Desk worker: *not realizing she’d misspoken* Yeah. Here they charged you $332 for one, and $340 for the other one.
Owner: But you said they’re normally $400?
Desk worker: They’re normally $400 each, so $800 total.

This is just for BRAKES, and not even including labor charges and whatever other service they did? Holy CRAP. I’m gonna try not to brake. Ever.

When I first walked in to pick up my car, I had to wait like 15 minutes for the receptionist/desk worker who was having THIS conversation with an Asian guy:
Desk worker: *typing away on the computer* I’m not seeing your name come up. Lemme try something else…no, that didn’t work, either. You said Robert Sang, right?
Robert Sang, apparently: Yes.
Desk worker: *typing and deleting sporadically* Is it spelled C-H-U-N-G?
Robert Sang: No, it’s S-A-N-G.
Desk worker: Oh, then I was way off. Haha. *typing some more* S-U-N-G.
Robert Sang: No, S-A-N-G.
Desk worker: Oh, I’m sorry. *typing some more* It’s still not coming up. I wonder why it’s not coming up. Oh wait, there’s an S-U. *looking up at him* Is it Su?
Robert Sang: No, it’s Sang.
Desk worker: How about S-H-U? There’s a Robert Shu in here…?
Robert Sang: *looking confused* No…
Me: Look, his last name is not negotiable, okay?!
Desk worker: Oh, HERE it is! Robert Sang!
Me: *leaping over the desk, stabbing her with my extended Wolverine claws* Rawr!

I’m just kidding, I didn’t participate in this conversation. I just waited impatiently through 15 minutes of this crap while I looked as patient as possible (which wasn’t very patient).

Oh, and another thing. It’s part of Lexus service that when you bring your car in, they wash it for you before returning it to you. For free. This is the last time I’m gonna let them do that. My painstakingly Zainoed car has spider fabric scratches all over it!!! Waaaah!!! I can actually see the wipe strokes. How dirty were their rags?! I know they go through a lot of cars, especially on a Saturday late morning. It also wasn’t spotlessly clean; there are slight waterspots on my hood and smudgy dirty areas on the lower panels of my car. *sigh* If it weren’t gonna be in the 20s Fahrenheit tomorrow, I’d Zaino Z5 Swirl-Remover it. Oh yeah. Now that my car’s clean, I can more clearly see the scratches on my hood that the wooden spool left. There’s even an area where the paint’s so chipped that there are strings of rag fibers caught in its roughness. *siiiiiiiigh*

We’re getting David Beckham to play soccer for the L.A. Galaxy with a 5 year contract at $250 million plus endorsements?!?! And we can’t feed the homeless?

Posh Spice must be happy.