cindy's world

Let’s say my significant other lives in a cabin at the bottom of a large slope. Let’s say that it snows a lot in the area, and the hill is more often than not buried in deep snow, so the possibility of avalanche is always in the back of everyone’s minds. Let’s say that one day, the avalanche becomes not just a possibility, but a definite likelihood, and fairly soon.

I think if my significant other, seeing this ominous and precarious hang of the snow, jumps into action and starts shoveling snow or doing whatever prophylactic measure is needed to prevent or mitigate an avalanche (yes, I realize now this is a bad metaphor to use because I know nothing about snow or avalanches or cabins), I would rally behind him, get on board and grab a shovel, or a blowdryer to melt the threatening snow (I dunno). Or maybe build a dam or dig a trench or a giant anti-snow wall. =P Whatever people do.

BUT, if I see that my significant other is just running around in circles in the cabin panicking and cursing the gods and feeling sorry for himself and unreceptive to anything to get him out of his woebegone mood, my instinct is to distance myself. I’m gonna look for a way out of this cabin, a window to jump out of when the avalanche comes, a way to someplace safe.

Is that WRONG of me? Am I supposed to stay in the cabin and get buried alive just because my significant other isn’t doing anything to help himself and when I tell him that he needs to do something or get buried, he tells me “I don’t need any more grief, I don’t want to talk to you anymore, GOODBYE” and slams the door in my face? Should I take this as a sign that his end of things aren’t going to come through and we’re not meant to be?

This morning, the talk radio show I listen to had comedian Ant (of “Last Comic Standing” fame) on as a special guest, talking about a recent TV-people cruise he’d just been on. He said that he actually went on the cruise stag, because just hours before the cruise, his long-term boyfriend of 3 years dumped him. By text message. So Ant received this text message that said, “I’m not going with you on the cruise.”
Ant texted back, “Why, are you sick?”
He received, “No. I’m dumping you.”
The hosts of the talk radio show were shocked, and asked a bunch of questions. So turned out, Ant’s always been the provider, he paid for everything as well as their home, the boyfriend was a 45 year old (which is like 90 in gay years, Ant joked) who moved back in with his parents. “You should’ve canceled his cell phone so he can’t dump you by text message!” the hostess said.
Ant said, “Oh, I didn’t pay for his phone. His mom did.” !!!
So this jobless loser moocher left a younger celebrity who paid for everything, whom he’d been with for 3 years, by text message for what reason?
“I don’t know,” Ant said. “Once you get a text that someone’s dumping you like that, you kinda don’t want to continue the conversation. It’s a waste of my 400 texts.” Hmm.

Ant also had a funny anecdote from the cruise. He said that Ross(?), the intern from The Tonight Show, was also on the cruise, and one evening at the dinner, there was “unicorn” on the menu. When the waitress came around for orders, Ross said, “I’ll try the unicorn.”
Ant: What’s the unicorn?
Waitress: It’s a fish.
Ross: Oh. Then I’m gonna change my order.
Ant: Wait a minute. You were okay with it when it was a magical horse? And now you want to change it cuz it’s a fish?!
HAHAHAHAHA!!! Made me laugh out loud in my car. “Can I order a pegasus instead?” HAHAHAHAHA!!

Wilco/Flip Flop Girl and Mr. W/I finally traded Wii codes, so we’re now in each others’ Wii address books as “friends.” That means we can send Mii characters to each other. I was the first to send the Miis of Mr. W and myself over to them, which I did this past Saturday night. What else was I to do when the only other person in the house (Mr. W) has a 9pm bedtime? I was so bored that I started exploring the Mii Channel for the first time, and made up 2 additional Miis, Buffy and Spike. I considered doing an Angel Mii, but didn’t want it to become a love triangle mess between the 3 of them again. Haha. I sent the Buffy Mii and Spike Mii over to Mike and Christi as well. The resemblances were such that Mike didn’t even know who they were at first. =P

And then I found that I could write Memos as different Miis to display on the letters screen. They appear like a little rectangular text box with the Mii’s picture on the upper left corner. So Snoopy’s memo said “Arf. Signed, the Red Baron.” Will Smith’s memo said “What up, Big Willy Style’s in da house! Get jiggy wit it, y’all!” And then on Sunday morning, I waited for Mr.W to turn on the Wii and discover that there was new mail.

Well, Mr. W totally freaked out. He stared at the messages and kept saying over and over that the Miis aren’t supposed to do that. I just played dumb. “They’re not? I think it’s cute!”
Frustrated that I wasn’t understanding the gravity of the horror of this situation, he said, “No! They’re not supposd to be INTERACTIVE.” He totally thought someone hacked into his system. And then he got to the memo from my Mii that said, “Being up all by mysmurf isn’t very smurfy.”

And then he hit me. Haha!

We didn’t end up going to the jujitsu instructor’s wedding on Saturday. Mr. W wasn’t thrilled with the idea all along and thought the groom’s email invitation to crash his wedding was “cheesy.”

Instead, we hooked up with Mr. W’s close friends (his ex-bro-in-law and wife), had lunch at The Curry House, then went to the Formula Drift race at Long Beach. This was the friends’ first exposure to drift racing, and they picked up on it very quickly, even developed some favorites that they cheered for. My godbro’s family hooked us up with 4 great tickets at the Grandstand in upper center, perfect views.

After the race, we walked around Long Beach looking at house possibilities and strolling along the sand for a few miles and eventually wound up at Shoreline Village, where we had dinner at Parker’s Lighthouse. I didn’t know that this beachside seafood restaurant had a casual dining 3rd floor with a bar in the center and a circular 360-degree view of the ocean and city! As we ate, the sun set and lights turned on along the beach and the Pike. It was very pretty. Even the night was warm as we walked back to the car; we had a heat wave this weekend and temperatures flew into the 90s. Mr. W even got a sunburn despite his sunblock spray.

I guess it would be nice to live at the beach, drifting to sleep to the sound of the waves.

Our Sunday was very low-key. Lots of “Angel” watching and hiding out indoors from the heat, then an evening walk to get frozen yogurt and hit the grocery store, where Mr. W added light and dark rum to his alcohol collection. I now have all the ingredients to make a Long Island and Long Beach Iced Tea.

Last nite, my gym trainee and I got together and did our “homework.” We’d planned to hit up Downtown Disney’s Uva Bar after work to observe the bartender in action, but it almost didn’t happen. Her 10-year-old son was at the airport with a bunch of schoolmates getting ready to leave on a school trip to Missouri, and you know how the news stations kept talking about the 1000 American Airlines flights that got canceled? Yup; they were booked on American Air. The teacher had to make alternate flight arrangements when their connecting flight was canceled, and gym trainee was poised to go to LAX and pick her son up if their (nonrefundable) trip was canceled. I went online and had their flight updates automatically sent to me on my cell, and all night long while we were at Downtown Disney I got notifications of 40-minute delays. Their 5:20p flight was pushed back little by little until they finally left at 10:20p. They already missed a reception program at the arrival site. But at least they got to go!

Downtown Disney was unexpectedly crowded. The usual parking lot was full and they had to open overflow parking. On a Thursday? What was going on? And of course as we were trying to make our way to the bar at the other end of the walk, there were oblivious moseying teenagers and adults, and unruly children randomly darting around and arbitrarily stopping right in front of us, that we had to maneuver around. I was reminded of why I hate going to Disneyland in the summer. The Uva Bar itself was pretty crowded, too. We were lucky to find 2 seats in the circular outdoor bar area. The bartender was working by himself when we got there, and there was a slight delay in getting some service, but when he did come around to us, he greeted us with direct eye contact and a smile. Unfortunately, his work station was at the other side of the circular bar so I couldn’t see him pour directly from the bottles to check out how long his pours are. I did occasionally catch him shake and pour from the shaker, though. I had my usual there: caramel apple martini, Mezza platter (3 flavored hummus and pita bread) appetizer which we shared, and ahi tuna salad with a Mediterranean twist (zesty lemon dressing, hummus at the bottom of the plate, couscous, mint leaves, romaine lettuce, and GIANT cuts of seared rare ahi). Gym trainee had a Manhattan and a burger that she said was delicious, too. MAN they use real alcohol in their drinks. I was laughing about how she said she drank some of her drink, got buzzed, stopped drinking, ate dinner, finished her drink, and got buzzed again.

After dinner we walked off our alcohol with shopping. She bought some bath bomb fizzies and bath salts at Basin, which is also one of my favorite stores, but I was being frugal. There was a bath bomb that the clerk demonstrated for us and as it fizzes away, little tiny multi-colored Mickey Mouse heads pop out! That’s soooo cute. Of course she bought one.

After wandering around Downtown Disney, we went back to my house and watched half of the DVD that came with the class, which is another assignment for this week (to rewatch the DVD). We’re such good students.

I found this Kim Anderson cake topper online and sent the link to Mr. W via IM.

Me: Does this look like us?
it’s 25% off.
Mr. W: When I was 4
me: you had white hair when you were 4?
Mr. W: Blond
me: well then your family would have a hoot.
you had that color hair a couple years ago.
doesn’t that look like me NOW? *nudge *
[A 5-minute silence goes by, I’m wondering whether he’s going to tell me that if I think I look 4, I’m calling him a pedophile.]
Mr. W: Not as beautiful as you are but, some similarities.
me: awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
wwwww!!!!
(what a liar.)

I took 2 hours off of work today and met up with my parents to get all their estate documents signed and notarized at the probate attorney’s office, across the street from my work. They came by my work so they could meet my new courtroom assistant and say hello to the judge. Afterwards, we went to nearby Applebee’s for dinner. The food was mediocre, but my parents enjoyed what they ordered. As we were walking to my car, my mom said to me, “That suit looks good on you. It makes you look thin. Did I buy that suit for you?” I told her that indeed, she did. She continued, “I gotta buy you a new suit — this one is out of style already.” I was too bewildered to be offended. Cuz, like, how does she know THAT? She doesn’t read fashion magazines, every time I’m over the TV’s on some Chinese news station or her Chinese soap opera DVDs, and she doesn’t shop a lot. At least, she doesn’t bring new stuff home often. I wouldn’t know if something’s out of style cuz I can’t and don’t care to keep up with trends, but how does she know? Giving the suit a little bit of thought, however, I remembered that she’d bought it for me shortly before college graduation, in ’98, so I’m sure she’s right that a decade-old suit is out of style.

Remember that DA I dreamt about the other day? He called my courtroom out of the blue today. I wasn’t at my desk, and when I got the message I was shocked, just cuz we hadn’t talked for a long time. I called him back and turns out, he recently got a case in which my judge is on the witness list. Surprised, he called me to give me the scoop. The defendant is a paralegal who, instead of turning in his clients’ court papers to be processed and signed by the courts, forged judges’ signatures to feign processing and entry. My judge was one of the identities he “stole” in this scam. “So how should I serve the subpoena on your judge, should I get a body attachment?” the DA joked. A body attachment is usually a warrant for an uncooperative witness so that police can pick the witness up and force him/her to appear in court to testify. I promised to give my judge a hard time about it and went into chambers to harass him. Although amused by the case, my judge actually was concerned about having to appear in court as a witness, as he’s planning a trip to Ireland with his son. Maybe a body attachment for his appearance DOES have to issue. That would be funny.

Another funky unexpected thing happened at work. I received a large manila envelope addressed to me at work, with the word “personal” written underneath my address. There’s a sticker on the envelope that says “California Overnight: LAX Beverly Hills 90210” so I know it came from Beverly Hills, CA. In the envelope is a page of last week’s LA Weekly, with a post-it attached that reads:

Hey Cindy!
I thought you’d like this article. It’s called: “How to get Divorced by 30, a Beginner’s Guide to Ending Your Starter Marriage”

The envelope and post-it are unsigned, although I have a good feeling who it is. Haha! That’s faith for ya! The article isn’t what I thought it was, though. It’s a 29-year-old’s memoirs as she realizes she would be divorced before she’s past 30, and she reviews what brought her to this point, what was wrong with her prior mentality. Things like, jumping into a relationship prematurely just because the new guy is the opposite of the recent bad ex, believing that opposites attract and having blind spots to fundamental differences that should be taken more seriously, forcing your life to adhere to an arbitrary timetable. Oh, and getting married just cuz all your friends are doing it. Interesting stuff to make sure I’m not doing.

Since I’m going backwards telling all the oddball stuff that happened this afternoon, that brings us to noon, when I was walking down the stairs in the stairwell at work and my left heel caught and stuck on the edge of a step. I grabbed the handrail on my right but at the awkward angle of my feet couldn’t stop myself from sliding forward as the base part of my right heel ground against the edge of the same step and snapped off. I went down and hit my left knee on the cement, the right knee following but without as hard an impact. After the shock of the pain wore off, what ticked me off was that I couldn’t just stop myself from dropping all the way down. What was I doing all those damn squats and lunges for?! But in retrospect, because my heels caught in a way that put my feet at a diagonal against the front edge of cement stairs, there was no way to balance myself. At least all I did was slide into a knee-drop, my hands didn’t even hit the ground. I guess if I didn’t work out, I may have totally lost control, flown forward and done a face-plant. That would not have been attractive. Thank God my coworkers are mostly too lazy to take the stairs at work.

Mr. W’s splurge of the month was the Nintendo Wii game system. When you buy the Wii package at Costco, it costs the same as anywhere else, but the package is much bigger. I think it has something like 3-4 games, controller bumpers, 2 standard controllers and 2 nunchucks. We spent a significant portion of the weekend shooting zombies in House of the Dead 2 and 3, and Mr. W got up early and played Super Mario Galaxy while I was asleep. Today, while I was in bartending class, he “boxed” with his neighbor.

Tangent: Speaking of bartending class, we got to play with water in class today, and turns out my free-pour is pretty damn accurate. My 3-count yields a full jigger, as we found by free-pouring into a glass and then pouring the glass into a jigger for measurement. The low IQ of some of the classmates dropped my jaw a few times, and my gym trainee (who’s taking the class with me) was shocked that I was shocked. She pointed out that people aspiring to be bartenders, especially those who are in their mid-20s, unemployed, and living at home with no clue what they want to do with their lives, don’t tend to be the sharpest tools in the shed. Yeah okay, but still. How could you get lost cutting a lime in half, and not know how to tip a bottle to pour into a glass, and think you’re supposed to empty a full tall glass of water onto a serving mat? Where did you think the water was going to go? Do you SEE a hose attached to the mat? And why do you think you’re leaning over a SINK? Anyways…

Back to the Wii: Because the Wii connects to the internet and seems to imply that you can make your personal Wii characters (called a Mii) mingle and interact with other people’s characters, we figured it’d be fun to connect to Mike (wilco) and Christi (flip flop girl) all the way in Northern California and have our Miis hang out. I called them on Saturday night to ask how we link up. Turns out it’s totally complicated for us cuz we have to exchange Wii system codes, add each others’ systems as “friends”, and allow our Miis to roam globally. Mr. W and I couldn’t even find the screen to get our code information. Mike said it was a 16-digit number that could be found by looking into some envelopes on the screen or something. It wasn’t until way after we’d hung up that we stumbled into the right screen with the right envelopes. So now we can add Wii friends and mingle around the globe! I know Jordan had said that she wanted to get a Wii so she could go Wii bowling with us from Florida.

So who wants to be our Wii friends?

I was IMing with a girl friend of mine last nite about plastic surgery. I said that if I were the plastic surgery type, my most likely procedure would be the tummy tuck. She said she’d get her boobs enlarged. Which reminded me to tell her, “Dude. My boobs shrunk at least 1.5 cup sizes! And I actually can’t bring myself to care.” I personally like that now I can button shirts without things popping open across the chest (altho today I still needed help from a cleverly hidden safety pin) and things that fit my waist now finally fit my chest, too.

My friend wasn’t as thrilled, though. “WHAAAAA, me too!!!!! I don’t know what happened either, like within the last 2 months!”

So my theory: “Maybe it’s eating all the organic foods that’s supposed to be good for you.”
Her: “eff that!”
Me: “Turns out I’m only curvy cuz of the hormones injected in chicken.”

She also said she’d risk the possible paralysis from the botulism virus to smooth out future wrinkles with BoTox.

So our new motto that she came up with: “Vanity does a body good. F–ck milk!”

Anyone want a T-shirt to join the club?

This photo had popped up on Jimmy’s wedding slide show and surprised me, so I’ve asked him to email it to me. Of course people at our table during the reception were like, “Who’s that guy in the middle?” Yup, it’s Mr. W back in his bleached blonde days, before the regular gymming too, I think. I’m sharing just for kicks.

Since the wedding was the first I’d seen this photo, I had no idea when or where it was taken. Jimmy informed me that it was at Killer Shrimp restaurant in Marina Del Ray when he’d come down to LA and a bunch of us met up for dinner, back in March 2006. I actually blogged about that night in this post. The funny thing is that the very last line of that post said that Jimmy took some photos so there may be some pics to post later, and I never got photos until now. I guess “later” is a subjective term anyway. Haha.