cindy's world

Hee hee! Guess what I signed up for today! Bartending classes! I’ve always loved playing with liquids and enjoyed mixology, plus I’m often the one playing with and inventing drinks at friends’ parties, anyway. When I see a full bar all colorful on display, I actually feel a twinge of excitement. I used to get that sensation when I stepped into the library as a child. How things have changed.

I’d been throwing around the idea for awhile, but last week when I was talking to Gym Trainee about it, she said she’d always loved playing with cocktail concoctions, too, and offered to take the class with me. By the next day she told me that her sister had offered to care for her son on the nights we have class, and that she’s definitely in. That was all the encouragement I needed! I am so excited.

At the conclusion of the course, we get a certificate, which I believe permits me to be legally hired as a bartender. Not only is it good side money (and pretty brainless, I imagine), I can offer to bartend for all the house parties that my friends/coworkers have. How cool to have a legal bartender among our midst! I hope that bartending gigs have REALLY flexible hours, cuz I don’t want to work every nite. Everyone I’ve talked to who used to bartend or who has kids who bartend have nothing but good things to say about the experience.

Mr. W is going to kick my ass.

It was freezing last night. My nose got all cold from having to breathe the chilly air so I ended up sleeping with my head all the way inside the covers.

I’ve learned to watch my audience when I complain of cold, though. I’m not just thinking about the people in snowy Minneapolis or sub-zero Chicago rolling their eyes at me (“It’s cold you say? What is it, like SEVENTY over there in Southern California?”), even people in Northern California, like my college roommie Diana, have to put temperature in a separate category for me. Like when I asked her whether our friend Jimmy’s upcoming outdoors wedding in Golden Gate Park, San Francisco is going to be cold. Her reply was, “It’s been sunny and really nice out lately. But yeah, cold for YOU. YOU should bring a warm coat and scarf.”

Is it any wonder my young cousin Mark (with the same quirky family genes as me) who lives in Toronto, Canada would have this IM conversation with me?

Mark: 😀
So it’s snowing out here… and I know you don’t know what that is. It’s basically this white cold solid that comes in flakes. It’s not quite ice but it’s not water either. It’s very annoying to drive on.
Also, it’s quite cold outside.
me: but who MAKES the solid into flakes?
Mark: God?
If you believe in that, otherwise, natural fluctuations in temperature.
me: fluctuations in temperature?
why would the temperature fluctuate?
is there a giant a/c unit outside?
Mark: No no, through natural changes
me: nature doesn’t change!
Mark: yes it does!
everything changes!
me: Okay, I know what’s going on.
Your dad thought it was funny to put all these ideas in your head, liks Santa and Toothfairies and weather changes and stuff.
it’s NOT TRUE.
you’re old enough to know now.
Mark: HAHAHAHA
SANTA IS REAL.
!!!
Hey how often does it actually snow where you are?
me: never.
It hailed once when I was 7, and then again when I was like 15, then really briefly again I think I was 22.
Mark: Wowzers
I had a feeling it was perhaps once in every 5-10 years if ever
me: that’s hail, not snow.
Mark: Oh, nevre snows?
hail as in ice pellets?
me: right.
Mark: Well that’s why all you Californians are crazy…
we all know snow is a natural sedative.
a healthy diet includes exposure to 25% snow a year.
I should export some snow to you
me: box it up and mail it on over!

Yesterday evening, maid-of-honor Vicky (yes, I’ve decided recently she’s my maid-of-honor; she’s more than earned it. Didja read all my past Las Tunas and Chinatown trauma she guided me through?) came by with her boyfriend Glenn and the three of us went out to a local sushi joint for dinner. After returning to my house, Glenn proceeded to take apart my living room’s vertical blinds to see if he could replace the broken clip on one panel. He soon discovered that the system was made in the late 70s and the parts I’ve purchased don’t fit in the old system. GAH! He was a good sport and reassembled everything, put it back up in the window, and advised me to buy a new blind system. After checking the blinds upstairs in the bedrooms, he found they were the same old system, so those will all have to be replaced, too. While upstairs, he said my ceiling damage from the leaks actually aren’t that bad and that they can be repatched very inexpensively, so I don’t have to hire an expensive ceiling repair guy or put a claim into my homeowner’s insurance. Great! With his prior experience managing multiple apartment homes, he recommended some products and even offered to come help patch the ceilings once my external roof is replaced. Looks like Vicky’s dating life has finally paid off for me. Haha!

(Today I told Mr. W about Glenn’s blind discoveries and Mr. W said he already knew that the pieces were not compatible cuz he’d already looked at it. Well, why didn’t he tell me?!)

Afterward the free inspection, we hung out and chatted in the living room, when something someone said sparked the memory that I have video tape footage of Vicky when we were in 8th grade. I busted it out, popped it in the VCR, and I watched Glenn’s amused smile looking at his whiny girlfriend more than 15 years back in time. Bridesmaid Sandy is in our 8th grade graduation video, too! I threatened to play it at my wedding. One thing we all noticed is how incredibly tan we were as pre-teens. Of course there was the daily P.E. class and playing outdoors and swimming, but man, adult office life has done nothing for our tans.

Now I need to find some embarrassing video footage of bridemaid Diana from the late 80s. Heh heh heh!

Diana introduced me to this blog, called “Stuff White People Like.” It appears to be written tongue-in-cheek with a slight self-deprecating tone; clearly a white guy who can laugh at himself and not take cultural chasms too seriously. Many of his commenters, however, could benefit from removing the stick from their anal orifices.

This post addressing Asian women as #11 of stuff white people like, is funny because it rings true. See for yourself!

You know what sucks ass? My judge is on jury duty, IN THE BUILDING upstairs, so he’s around still doing some work in chambers which I’ll probably have to process. But because we’re technically “dark” (meaning the judge is unavailable and the courtroom is not open to receive cases today), administration wants to send me to Compton in the afternoon to sit in on a criminal jury trial. You’re telling me that in the entire West district where Compton courthouse is, there is not anyone who is available to babysit a trial for one afternoon, that they have to send someone from NORWALK? ARGH.

Now that that’s out of the way, Mr. W and I had a productive enough weekend. Saturday, at our wedding food tasting (all the food you can eat and champagne/sake cocktails you can drink!) we pretty much decided our wedding menu. We’re considering ordering a hosted sake bar for the reception, and coming up with a signature east-meets-west cocktail drink. I’d never had sake cocktails before now and they’re DELISH! After the food tasting we went to our wedding cake bakery and ordered our cake. It fits perfectly with our theme, and will be 3 round tiers of chocolate cake layer+amaretto bavarian creme+light streak of raspberry jam+white cake layer. I know it sounds funny, but it tasted good and was a good compromise for us. If our guests don’t like it, whatever. Fill up on the food and alcohol.

Sunday, we had dim sum brunch with our realtor and his wife (who are close and old family friends of mine) and then the wife went home while the three of us did concentrated house-hunting. The houses are increasing in quality, but my favorite were two Chino Hills homes with beautiful entertainment backyards. One has a view of rolling green hills right beyond the yard that you wouldn’t believe is in overpopulated Southern California. I love the flowy layout of that house, too. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that one, but won’t let my hopes soar too high since recently, everything we really liked was GONE the day after we saw it.

And then we went to my parents’ and had dinner there, telling my parents about our househunting adventures, showing them online photos of a few of the ones we saw. My mom is blown away by the high price of housing these days, but such is life. And the decline of the almighty American dollar.

* House-hunting is getting old and making us feel poor.
* I booked our venue wedding coordinator consultation and our venue rehearsal, and tomorrow we’re attending the food-tasting to pick our meals.
* Today I received my order of more face powder and 3 eyeshadows from Sephora; starting tomorrow everything on my face will be Bare Escentuals and the switchover will be complete.
* We’re on Week 1 of Phase 2 in the psycho workout routine, both I and my gym trainee are looking the best we’ve looked since we can remember, and I was very proud of her when she told me she’s decided to wear a racer-back tanktop dress this weekend to visit her cousins in San Diego to “show off” her toned arms (since we did upper body today).
* I finally got to select vacation days for this year, and I got the week after my friend Jimmy’s upcoming Sunday wedding off so we can take our time coming back from Northern California after his wedding, BUT I didn’t have enough seniority to even make the WAIT LIST for the week of my own wedding. >:-(
* Dodo’s being a good sport in letting me brush some clumps out of his fur this week, altho it seemed somewhat painful, and he’s stopped jumping into the shower to lap up leftover bathwater in the mornings.
* The Association finally signed and mailed back the roofer’s contract this week, and I received an email from the roofer saying he hopes to start work around March 10; I was afraid to tell him my Association neighbors are asses and all still refuse to pay their contribution toward the repairwork.
* At Mr. W’s house without a TV in his bedroom and being unable to watch TV in the living room w/o disturbing his son who’s sleeping in the upstairs loft overlooking the living room, I am unable to fall asleep (obviously).

My mom kinda lost her mind last Saturday. While we were at my supervisor’s house having a grand ol’ time, I didn’t know but my mom called my cell and left me this grave-sounding voice mail to the effect of, “Cindy, Mama is so sorry. Mama did you wrong. I regret so much that I didn’t give you any brothers or sisters. In the future, when you’re married, you and [Mr. W] need to be kind to each other and persevere in your marriage and not break up or dispute over little petty things. Don’t let yourself be affected by too much.” I was like, Why’s she giving me future advice? Is she going thru one of those I’m-gonna-die-soon things again? I know they both had doctor’s appointments 2 days prior on Thursday.

So I called my parents’ house when we left and my dad picked up. I said, “Dad. Are you guys okay?”
He said, “Yeah, why?”
I said, “Cuz mom left me this weird message. Did a doctor contact you guys or something?”
“No. You wanna talk to your mom?”
“Sure.”
I heard the phone shuffle, and my dad said, “Your mom said it’s nothing.”
I said, “Okay, then see you tomorrow.” And we hung up since she wouldn’t talk to me.

Then on Sunday, when I visited, my mom told me in another room that she had gotten into a fight with my dad over the amount of soy sauce he was putting on his avocado, so my dad got mad and dropped the avocado and said he wasn’t going to eat it anymore. (She was trying to look out for his high blood pressure.) My mom was so offended she stormed off and drove around by herself, went shopping, cussed him out in her car alone, came back late at night, pulled in the driveway and realized she was STILL mad so she didn’t want to go in, and then she drove off again. She was also upset he never called her cell to check up on her even tho she’d been gone for hours. And then she tried calling me, but I didn’t pick up. So she was all crying and thinking about how she has nowhere to turn when the chips are down and her friends all have their own families so she can’t bother them and her mom’s never around and they’re not close, and how I would be in the same position without siblings. I told my mom, “I’ve learned in these past couple years that you don’t have to be blood to be family.” My mom said you can have friends but it’s still not the same; people get married, have their own lives and families and friendships loosen. You still can’t call on them at times like these.

Dwaine and I discussed the above story last nite and he agreed with me, and we decided that the last generation has different friendships from our generation. Dwaine’s and my relationship, for example, would be inappropriate in our parents’ generation. Neither my mom nor his mom have close male friends, unless it’s the husband of a close female friend and everyone hangs out as couples. But Dwaine and I go way back in a childhood that’d always had co-ed friendships and I can’t imagine life, present or future, without him.

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.

Because we are both surprisingly sore from our new workouts Monday and Tuesday, my gym trainee and I decided to opt out of the noon gymming and instead run some of her local errands on foot at lunchtime. We walked in total maybe a solid hour, at the end of which, when we were at a busy intersection waiting for the light to turn so we could cross the street, a beat up car pulled up and the male passenger started saying something flirtatious to us about how we were out there exercising. In truth I didn’t understand him, but my gym trainee replied to them that the gym was a mile up that way, they can swing it. The male passenger, a black man in a muscle shirt perhaps in his 20s, flexed his biceps at us and said, “I’m halfway there already.” His buddy driving laughed. There were a couple other sentences exchanged and the car turned. My gym trainee said something about how she wouldn’t give out her number to anyone who could holler at her in the middle of the day from the passenger seat of his friend’s car. She’d wonder, “Why’re you here? Why aren’t you at work?”

I noted that we don’t look like we’re working (we were dressed in gym clothes) in the middle of the day either. But she made an interesting point. Is it REALLY flattering if some obviously indiscriminating deadbeat considers you in his league?

Maybe he was on vacation.

Over the weekend Mr. W and I attended my boss’s 51st birthday shindig at his house in Claremont. My thoughts driving out there were, “I can’t believe he makes this commute both ways on a daily basis. This drive sucks.” One morning when it was pouring rain, he got to work 2.5 hours late. As soon as we got there, however, I was bowled over. His house is big, beautiful, and very designer-looking. The backyard has a giant custom rock-lined pool, lots of patio seating areas all surrounding it, and surrounding the waterfalls and rocky pool environment were trees and lawn like an oasis. And that’s just 1/3 of the backyard. He also had wooden patio deck, an outdoor fire, and a bouncy perky dog that kept bringing his little blue ball back to me to throw for him. I threw as hard as I could into the lawn section from the middle of the backyard and lemme tell you, I could not hit any walls.

So after that, we’re like, “Hmm. San Bernardino County, eh?”

The next day (Sunday), we drove around the beach areas and checked out housing by Huntington Beach. I refused to live in most of those neighborhoods, which aside from the prestige of saying “I live at the beach” had nothing more to offer, probably not even safe passage from the garage to the mailbox. We did like one property A LOT, but couldn’t afford the $1.6 million it’d take to get it.

So the hunt’s still on-going. Currently we’re considering these favorites:
Country Living – a beautiful large 2-story home in horse ranch territory, above some winding mountain roads, in Chino Hills
Suburbia – a new and chic medium-sized home with virtually no yard in Brea, almost walking-distance from night life and restaurants
Beach – an even smaller, slightly old but extremely upgraded single-story home a mile from the sand in Huntington Beach. There’s another one there in an upscale gated community that we have yet to check out.

So we’re not doing the city life, it looks like. I wonder where people would visit me at.