cindy's world

I’ve resolved not to consume anything with calories after 6:30p, based on going to bed around 10p, so that I wouldn’t have unused food in my stomach turning to fat as I sleep. At 9:30p tonite, however, I had just finished a bowl of Breyers cherry ice cream (w/chocolate chunks), so I needed to stay awake for a bit longer to burn off the food. I figured I’d get online and do what I’d been meaning for awhile to do — add a new category to the sidebar of this blog to cross-reference all posts with original personal photos. Just short of 2 hours later, I’ve gone thru all 568 posts and completed the “photos” designation.

I think I can go to bed now. I was really sleepy about half an hour ago and now I’m not so much, so I hope I didn’t outlast my body’s desire to sleep.

Since I didn’t post on Saturday, I’ll post some photos from Christmas in Vegas, 2005 to make up for it. (See December posts for event details.)

Incidentally, this is also why I’m no longer allowed to work for Santa.

Greg had pushed me a bit to do the San Diego marathon via IM (after he invited me on here), and today I open gmail to find that my childhood friend Vicky had sent me a registration to sign up for the Los Angeles marathon. Hmm. Should I be doing marathons? Maybe training to run 23 more miles than I normally do within 3 weeks will help me drop some weight. Or drop a limb.

Today, I received at work a letter from the check company that screwed up my checks. It was addressed to Danielle Rudd again. Despite their NOT calling me the next day like they said they would, I thought it was the SASE they said they’d send me to return the erroneous checks, so I eagerly opened the envelope. It was a bill. Yes, a BILL. Something to the effect of Dear Danielle Rudd, your payment for your recent check order did not sufficiently cover the cost owed, but instead of delaying your order, we processed it anyway and delivered it to you and anticipate an additional payment of $6.90 soon. Like they’re doing me a favor!

Argh, if I was on the fence about completing my order with them, I’ve changed my mind now. I’m so gonna order checks from my bank directly and pay three times the amount.

For those of us who meet more people than we’d like to admit thru the internet, who have ever wondered, “If this works out, what will I tell our kids about how mom and dad met?!”

A little boy goes to his father and asks “Daddy, how was I born?”
The father answers, “Well, son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway. Your mom and I first got together in a Chat room on Yahoo. Then I set up a date via Email with your mom, and we met at a Cyber-Cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, where your mother agreed to a Download from my Hard Drive. As soon as I was ready to Upload, we discovered that neither of us had used a Firewall, and since it was too late to hit the Delete button, nine months later a blessed little Pop-Up appeared and said: You’ve Got Male.”

Got this via email from a friend, guess I’m gonna have to change a lot of my language:

Memo: Cussing at work

It has been brought to management’s attention that some
individuals throughout the company have been using foul
language during the normal conversation with their co-workers. Due to
complaints received from some employees who may be easily offended,
this type of language will no longer be tolerated. We do however realize the
critical importance of being able to accurately express your feelings
when communicating with co-workers. Therefore, a list of 18 New and
Innovative “TRY SAYING” phrases has been provided so that proper
exchange of ideas and information can continue in an effective manner.

1) TRY SAYING: I think you could use more training.
INSTEAD OF: You don’t know what the f___ you’re doing.

2) TRY SAYING: She’s an aggressive go-getter.
INSTEAD OF: She’s a ball-busting b__ch.

3) TRY SAYING: Perhaps I can work late.
INSTEAD OF: And when the f___ do you expect me to do t his?

4) TRY SAYING: I’m certain that isn’t feasible.
INSTEAD OF: No f______ way.

5) TRY SAYING: Really?
INSTEAD OF: You’ve got to be sh__ing me!

6) TRY SAYING: Perhaps you should check with…
INSTEAD OF: Tell someone who gives a sh__.

7) TRY SAYING: I wasn’t involved in the project.
INSTEAD OF: It’s not my f______ problem.

8.) TRY SAYING: That’s interesting.
INSTEAD OF: What the f___?

9) TRY SAYING: I’m not sure this can be implemented.
INSTEAD OF: This sh__ won’t work.

10) TRY SAYING: I’ll try to schedule that.
INSTEAD OF: Why the f____ didn’t you tell me sooner?

11) TRY SAYING: He’s not familiar with the issues.
INSTEAD OF: He’s got his head up his a__.

12) TRY SAYING: Excuse me, sir?
INSTEAD OF: Eat sh__ and die.

13) TRY SAYING: So you weren’t happy with it?
INSTEAD OF: Kiss my a__.

14) TRY SAYING: I’m a bit overloaded at the moment.
INSTEAD OF: F___ it, I’m on salary.

15) TRY SAYING: I don’t think you understand.
INSTEAD OF: Shove it up your a__.

16) TRY SAYING: I love a challenge.
INSTEAD OF: This job sucks.

17) TRY SAYING: You want me to take care of that?
INSTEAD OF: Who the h___ died and made you boss?

18 ) TRY SAYING: He’s somewhat insensitive.
INSTEAD OF: He’s a pr_ck.

Thank You,
Human Resources

Are hickies in style now? Do they replace jewelry as neck decoration? Or are they to be worn proudly, like red badges of wantonness? I’ve seen more hickies on the necks of 20-somethings this week than I have in all of 2005 combined. I guess peeing directly on the person doesn’t have quite the lasting power of broken capillaries.

My goal tonite after returning from jujitsu was to sort out and categorize the bag of paid bills and statements I have sitting by my desk. In completing that task, I pulled out some old thank-you and Christmas cards and started reminiscing (this is why it takes me so long to clean any clutter around my house). I realized I haven’t been keeping up with a lot of my friends very well. There’d be the occasional phone call or email forward and response, but I haven’t called to check up on them cuz I’m always running off to somewhere. I just took for granted that all my friends are self-sufficient and alive and I’ll just pick up with them some other time and meanwhile things will not change. Funny thing is, with IMing and blogging, I haven’t felt the NEED to see what’s up with them.

I suck.

I hope you’re all all right out there! You’d all better be! Don’t make me go down there!

I love that my parents have stepped into the 21st Century. I also love that Gmail gives you an internet instant messaging system thru their email site. So I IMed my dad (who’s also at work) for the first time just now:

me: Hi dad!
I’m at work in trial.
You must be busy.
[dad’s screen name]: WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?
me: nothing.
I just wanted to say hi.
[dad’s screen name]: MUST BE BORRY
[He means “boring.”]
me: yeah, a little bit.

Cool, huh? =D

My mom’s stressing me out. Earlier in the week, she wrote me an email about ordinary stuff, but buried in the text was something to the effect that both she and Dad like Mr. W and have we talked about the future? Mr. W was good about it and laughed it off (we haven’t even been dating 6 months!), and today, she writes me again in an email that very sweetly reviews her family life starting from her marriage to now, and says that she got married, had a kid, put the kid thru college, helped her get into her first house, and now she’s going to prepare for retirement “and…something else.” And then she goes into how she wishes that, presumably before the “something else,” she will get to see me at my wedding and then hold her grandchild. And then in a later paragraph, she asks if I’m going to help her with her living trust.

I had never liked having to address my parents’ mortality. It used to scare me to death as a kid until I gulped and decided not to worry about such an improbability when I was in middle school. In middle school, my parents had brought home 2 blank certificate-looking wills and just had it on the wet bar so that when I came home from school at the ripe mature age of 12 or 13, I freaked out. Those forms stayed empty and undealt with for months or years until I felt better about it, and then they just disappeared.

It’s rough shouldering the responsibility of your parents as an only child. People assume that I’m spoiled by them, and to an extent, I guess I was. I did get everything without having to share. But I also got their bad moods, the butt of their bad days, all of their expectations and disappointments. The thing with being just one person is that you get both the long and the short ends of the stick. It was a selfish decision to move out of their house on my own, and very anti-traditional Asian. My mom cried nightly when I first moved out. I go home regularly and visit them on the weekends (look at that, I still call their house “home”, as tho I were in college), just like all the good little Asian kids who have moved out due to school or work, and that alleviates the guilt somewhat. But generally I shrug it all into the back of my head. The guilt that I should be taking care of them (altho they are autonomous and I’m very proud of my immigrant parents for that), that I should be more involved in their daily lives, that I should have a finger on the pulse of their health and know what’s going on and be doing things to help them improve their health. I feel guilty that the weekend visits are almost dealt with like a mandatory chore in my perceived-busy life instead of something I look forward to.

Speaking of health, my mom said in an off-hand way in an email string a couple of weeks ago that she had to go now because she had a doctor’s appointment. My mom’s always had doctors’ appointments as I was growing up. It was something I was used to and I normally wouldn’t ask much. But normally I’d get my information from her complaining about the healthcare network or the doctors’ vague reports. This time, when I responded to her email the next day asking what the appointment was for, she deliberately kept it from me, saying it’s too complicated to explain and then just changing the subject. I responded to the subject she changed it to succinctly, and then deliberately readdressed the doctor’s appointment, asking again what it was and how it went. She wrote, “nothing, just a blood test.” How is that complicated?! She’s keeping something from me. And now all this weird pressure to rush my life that she’d never done before. Either she and my dad REALLY like Mr. W, or something’s egging her on. *anxiety puke*

Vanessa brought in a photo album of her in gothic attire. Wow. She really is a trampy goth, but she looks really good. I got to see a photo of her in those famous holey boots. It’s a fitted black boot ending just under the knees and the “holes” on the side were large round cut-outs so that the remaining patent leather looks like horizontal straps across her calf. Her goth makeup is awesome, very sexy. I especially liked what appeared to be Halloween photos in which she was wearing a white string bikini with black chaps over her legs, and a blonde wig. It was during her Navy days, so the girl had abs to die for. I guess it’s too much to hope that I could pull off that look (she’s also like 5’9″) in goth garb.

When I got home, I walked around the house putting up the framed photos of me and Mr. W from the cruise. I’m so lazy; instead of looking for a perfect spot for each photo, I instead look for empty nails on the walls. The nails were left there by the previous owner of the house, and I’d just been putting my stuff over their nails, so my stuff’s totally not lined up. There’s actually a framed photo of me and Mr. W that overlaps a section of another wall hanging I have up, because that’s how close the nails are together and that’s how it worked out. I need to take a vacation just to rid my house of clutter and really set it up nice.