cindy's world

I went to dinner last nite with my parents and my godbro’s parents. As soon as I walked into the restaurant where I was meeting them, the conversation turned to my recent weight gain. My godbro’s mother had lost some weight recently by simply cutting out white rice from her diet, and she said she was like me. My mom said no, not like me, because I gained weight recently. “Did she?” godbro’s mom said looking at me skeptically. I admitted to the 15-lb weight gain. My dad said his theory on my weight gain is that it has to do with my present emotional well-being. He then turned to me and said, “You’re happy, aren’t you?” I said I am. The weight gain did coincide rather suspiciously with my dating Mr. W. “I’d rather have you like this and happy than skinny and miserable,” he said. The godbro’s parents agreed, saying that I’m fine the way I am so the elevated mood is well worth the weight gain, altho my mom interrupted by saying that I should still watch the pounds for health reasons and I should make more effort to lose the weight.

So the moral of the dinner is that my dad’s happy for me and my mom still thinks I’m fat. I’m not really sure what to do with that. I guess liposuction is the answer to everything.

I don’t think Mr. W enjoyed the 3-mile midnite run we did Wednesday nite as it’s past his usual bedtime, so this weekend, the plan was to run Friday earlier in the evening, Saturday sometime, and Sunday sometime. My lunchtime workout on Friday (last day before my trainee returns from her Hawaii vacation) left my lower butt and upper thighs way too sore to do much running, so all we did Friday nite was fall asleep trying to watch Charlie & the Chocolate Factory starring Johnny Depp on DVD. Saturday morning, as you guys know, we got up early to watch Harry Potter, but after a rather heavy lunch, we came back to his place and crashed for hours. Then when we got up again, we ate watermelon and fell asleep again (well, I did anyway; Mr. W was responsible and went to bed) trying to watch Charlie & the Chocolate Factory. It’s a really good movie; it just kept hitting the 9:30p timeslot when I usually fall asleep watching TV at home. This morning, we finally got some exercise in.

We biked 9.5 miles along scenic riverbeds (and by “scenic,” I mean there are birds pecking in the mud and less than 2 dead bodies floating face down. no, I’m kidding, parts of it was beautiful and we saw lots of gray herrings) and had breakfast at Coco’s, then biked another 7.5 miles on the way back. The reason there’s a mileage difference is because for about a block, we biked thru dirt instead of on sidewalks or bike paths, which resulted in my rear tire getting flat. That’s what I get for complaining that I’m not getting a big cardio benefit from the biking and that my ass hurts. Karma: “Oh, you want more effort for cardio benefit, huh? Oh, your ass hurts? Let’s see what we can do to resolve those problems.” So we walked the bikes another mile until we got back to civilization, I sat out and Mr. W biked the rest of the way home, and brought his truck to pick me up as I picked the stupid spikey plant spines out of the tires. Oh yeah, the front tire went hissingly, too. I put my hand over it and there was actually air pumping out. I felt like putting my face down there to at least take advantage of the cool breeze.

We got back, I jumped in the shower, and now I’m blogging about how on top of it my karma is. Man. Last time I called in sick to work and said I had a bladder infection, I got a bladder infection (a very bad one) within the new few hours. It’s getting to the point where I’m scared to say anything these days. What happened to freedom of expression, Karma?

It’s getting closer to 1pm now. Mr. W just got out of the shower. Maybe we’ll try Charlie & the Chocolate Factory again.

Harry Potter was more fun for the company than for the actual movie itself. I’d say the biggest difference between Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and all the previous ones is mostly in the more “adult” feel, the entry of sexual tension and possible romance, the more real possibility (and occurrence) of death.

Yeah, and the Imax 5-story high screen was pretty cool, too.

We (Mr. W and I) got there early enough to be the 7th group or so in line, and soon the other friends started arriving, but most importantly, the pastry chef arrived first with his gargantuan cinnamon rolls in hand. “DAMN it, overcooked,” he lamented, and Mr. W and I looked up from our cinnamon rolls in confusion. THIS isn’t good? Could’ve fooled me. The chef offered to redeem himself with another properly cooked batch and we politely accepted. What nice friends we are.

We had lunch at The Cheesecake Factory after the movie and the Godiva cheesecake is still as good as ever. [the link brings you to the Cheesecake Factory cheesecakes menu. Click on the little camera icon next to Godiva chocolate cheesecake for a photo] I know I’ve written about that cheesecake before, but seriously, do yourselves a favor if you’re a chocolate lover and/or a chocolate truffle lover. Get a piece. It’s only $7.50. (Of course, we split it 4 ways, as it was too rich to eat on your own, so take this as an opportunity to ask some choco-holic girl out on a date. “Hey, my friend keeps touting this Godiva cheesecake from Cheesecake Factory and I’m gonna go try it. The chocolate goodness supposedly just melts on your tongue. Care to join me?” Seriously, what girl would turn that down? It’s foolproof. I’ll expect my $5 in the mail for the advice.)

I have just redeemed all the time, effort and money spent in acquiring my Bachelor’s degree.

I, like many Asian women I’d imagine, have trouble finding the right shade of foundation. I found a brand I really like (Revlon’s Colorstay), but when I tan or pale it’s a hunt all over again. Since I darkened so much in Cancun, I’ve moved from my old office-pallor color (Sand Beige) up a few shades to the one I used in college (True Beige) back in the days when we walked everywhere and the first class is at least 2 miles away from any apartment. Before Cancun, when I had a very slight tan from the incidental sun exposure which could only have come from driving to and from work, I was using an in-between shade (Medium Beige) which still wasn’t quite right, but I sucked it up expecting to darken in Cancun to college-color. And I did. Now, my tan is fading again because apparently the glow from a computer monitor and the flickering illumination from overhead flourescent lights don’t stimulate melanin production, and for a few days True Beige was too brown/red, but Medium Beige was too pale. I expected to go shopping for a new foundation.

Here’s the genius part that started yesterday morning. Yesterday, I put a dot of the darker True Beige on my forehead, nose, each cheek, and chin, then applied the lighter Medium Beige like normal foundation, blending the color. It was a closer match, but still too pale. This morning, I did three dots of True Beige over the same areas but working only one area at a time to help lengthen blend time (Revlon Colorstay “sets” in 60 seconds), and I applied Medium Beige over the areas. My color is perfect. I just got back from the restroom (I worked thru lunch, having been thrown into a criminal courtroom impromptu in the middle of their morning calendar because the clerk’s mom died so she jumped ship in tears) and the color is still perfect, natural, even.

That totally made my day, in spite of the very real possibility that I may be working late for free to get thru this calendar, trying to decipher another clerk’s notes on the cases called this morning.

To the men: If you got this far, thanks for putting up with my hideously girly entry. I believe it’s the only one on this blog so far, so I’m entitled!
To the women: I know, I know, some of you have been doing this self-blend thing for years. But it just never occurred to me until yesterday morning, even tho I’ve blended lipstick and eye makeup for like a decade and a half.

Yesterday evening Mr. W and I went to the Irvine Spectrum to pick up our Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire tickets for the show tomorrow morning. (Aside: the official website for the movie is amazing, btw. Click above if you’re a fan.) The opening show was at midnight and there were lines going all the way around the theatre in both directions from the front entrance. People were prepared to camp out in their beach chairs, blankets, Harry Potter costumes, floor lamps, generators, desktop plants, small barnyard animals, etc. At the ticket counter, the lucky teenager who probably wished he worked on commission informed us that there are 3 main theatres plus the large Imax theatre showing Harry Potter, and three of those four theatres are already completely sold out.

Craziness, it is! It’s starting to look more and more like we have to get up when it’s still dark to be placeholders in line. Thanks, Mr. W, for being so wonderful and volunteering to be the early-morning line bookmark so that we can get a bunch of seats together. Another guy who’s meeting us there is apparently a pastry chef so he’s gonna make and bring us cinnamon rolls. I should get a copy of all the Harry Potter books, have them piled up next to me as I huddle on the floor with my nose in one of them, and anytime anyone tries to talk to me, I’ll hiss, “Shhh! I’m trying to catch up before the movie starts!”

Hi, um, my name is Cindy and for show-and-tell I brought my boyfriend’s favorite pictures. *shuffling around with photos* These pictures are from our trip to San Francisco last weekend. He took them himself. With his camera.

He calls this one “I heart SF.” That’s me sitting on one of the last San Francisco Heart Project pieces. I’m wearing a UCLA shirt. *giggle*

He calls this one “Go Straight to Jail, Do Not Pass Go.” It’s me in the jail hall at Alcatraz. All puffy in Mr. W’s big jacket in the cold.

This is “Boat Framed on Alcatraz.” This building was burned down by the Indians in the early 1900s during their protest. Mr. W had to climb on a railing to take this picture. I think it’s pretty.

“SF City View.” I dunno where he got that name from.

He calls this “Sailing the Golden Gate.”

“Merry X-mas from Pier 39.” I like this picture because it looks like a Pier 39 postcard. Lotsa pictures he takes look like postcards.

This is “Daytime Christmas Moon.” That’s the American Indian name for this photo.

He named this “Eerie Night.” I like the lights on the bottom.

Even tho he called this “Haunted Hotel,” I don’t know that’s really a hotel.

You guys did all remember to pass the mouse over the photos, right? 😀

Yesterday, I went to Petco after work to buy cat litter. While in line, I saw little packages of Greenies for cats. My friend Vicky feeds Greenies to her dogs, which is a long green toothbrush-shaped chew-treat that cleans the dog’s teeth as the dog gnaws on the treat. I’d always said they should make Greenies for cats so I don’t need to keep spending dough getting my cat’s teeth cleaned and scraped by the vet. So when I saw this, I was really excited and forked out the big bucks for a teeny salmon-flavored package. I then went home, vacuumed downstairs, cleaned the cat’s room, replaced the litter.

Turns out Greenies for cats is like a miniature Greenie for dogs, toothbrush-shaped but about the size of a large vitamin. Dodo showed some interest when I first presented the Greenie to him on my fingertip. Then he walked away from it. There was no way I was gonna let this fly, so I brought him back, shoved the Greenie in his face again. He tried to walk around my hand to get behind me to the cat food. I then thought I’d put a few Greenies in his cat bowl so he knows it’s cat food (Dodo won’t touch human food). I thought I heard a crunch, so I was really excited. And then I stopped hearing crunching. I looked in the bowl and the Greenies were gone. Confused, I put a couple of Greenies on the ground. The cat put his head down and opened his mouth and then…I distinctly heard a couple of GULPS. He was just swallowing the suckers whole after he bit into the first one and found out they were hard to chew! Argh. What a waste of money.

There were lots of lions on our trip to SF last weekend. It started with the National Geographic magazine that Mr. W bought at the airport, which features the magazine’s 100 favorite or best photos they’d ever had in print. There was a beautiful photo of a male lion walking, and the photographer had written that the lion was majestic, powerful and completely indifferent to him. Typical cat. Looking at that photo, I wanted to sink my hand into the dense lion mane, touch a fingertip to the flame-shaped tuft of fur at the tip of his tail. Of course there were stone lions all over Chinatown, guarding front doors, keeping the evil spirits out. We had also seen a framed closeup painting or photo of a lion’s face somewhere, and I remember saying I wanted a lion. Riding to work on a lion would ensure that nobody messed with me. Talk crap behind my back? My lion will eat you. Or at least bat you around. It’s funny to imagine some catty chick giving me the once-over and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, this huge paw smacks her upside the head.

One morning last weekend I woke up from a dream that I was hanging out with lions, playing with one’s gigantic paw, curling up against another one in a vast plain. When I opened my eyes I was in the San Francisco hotel room with an already-awake Mr. W. “I dreamt I had a lion,” I said sleepily, still disoriented and rather disappointed that there was no lion next to me. He smiled his boyish dimpled smile and said, “Well, how about a Leo?” I’ll take it.

Things always have a funny way of lining up for me on a theme. The theme this week for me was “character.” I’d said a few times to a few people in the last couple days that someone may look good on paper, but his character almost killed me. And then there may be someone whose “dating resume” doesn’t look good on paper, but I’d never been so comfortable or happy. And then out of nowhere, the plaintiff’s attorney throws this into his closing argument right now on a car accident case:

“I don’t have time to talk about character very long but I will just mention a book that I read about ten years ago. There is a book on who to marry. What kind of person should you marry, should you marry somebody beautiful? Should you marry somebody tall, dark and handsome? Whom should you marry, somebody rich? Should you marry somebody who has all the hobbies you have? The book says don’t look after any of those issues, those are false. The issues you need to look at in the person you’re going to marry are honesty, if they treat you well, if they are hardworking, if they are religious. And if they’re loyal. Because the person you want to marry is the woman that you want who will stay you for 30 years if you become disabled. Or if you’re a girl you want a man that will stay with you for 30 years if you become disabled. All these other issues are not good. You can get a guy that’s tall dark and handsome and he can cheat on you every day and lie to you and be a drunkard and go gambling every day and leave you for another woman at the first chance he gets.
So character is very important in life.”

My court reporter turned to me and winked.

Our email system still doesn’t receive/send outside the court system. Today marks the 3rd day of this dysfunction. I’m gonna be inundated with emails when they fix the server. Kinda like how I missed 9 calls when I finally checked my cell phone this morning, which was on my bed charging (I slept downstairs with the cat again).

And Wilco, what’s up with Cingular? Ever since this past weekend, the phone doesn’t pick up a signal well, I have to keep turning it off and on, sometimes a couple of times, to toggle the reception, and 8 times straight between 2 days I have tried to access my voice mail and the message is “Sorry, the service you have requested is not available at this time. Please try again later.” and then it hangs up on me.