Speedy Canizales

Flickr Is Being Really Lame

2009-02-20T11:58:00.000-08:00

Hello!

I have moved my blog over to Wordpress.com but Flickr is still "pointing" users over to this dead site.

Please go to the all-new blog at www.speedycanizales.com.

See you there!

The Big Reveal - Speedycanizales.com

2008-06-25T07:50:00.001-07:00

I've been thinking about moving this blog for the longest time, from Blogger to Wordpress. Blogger's been good to me for the past year, and I have learned so much about operating a website. This coming from a person who didn't have a clue on how to sign up for a blog, let alone add sidebar items and linking. And don't even get me started on RSS feeds.

Even though Blogger and I have become close, I've always felt there was something missing. I don't like that Blogger has this crappy "About Me" section that I can't change (well, I could but it would take some investigating on my part that could take WEEKS), and I've never been a fan of the way the page is formatted. While we're on the subject, can we talk about theme choices (or lack thereof)? While I do like the pink and gray I think it's time to move on to something different.

With all this in mind, I finally made the switch last night. And it looks good - check it out for yourself. Beginning today, future posts will be at www.speedycanizales.com. (That's right I bought my domain name too!) This will automatically redirect you to my new Wordpress site.

I love the new digs but it's still a work in progress. I've imported most of my old entries from Blogger but ended up having to delete a few due to formatting issues. Because of that I am keeping this old site for archive purposes (not that I expect y'all to read all my archives or anything, but you know, just in case you were curious about how this all came together and how horrible my first posts were). I still have to figure out how to replicate some of the features that I like here at Blogger ("Picture of the Day") and write a brand-new "About Me" page that doesn't suck.

See you on the brand-new Speedy Canizales!

Suffering from a Case of Delayed Trip Gratification

2008-06-24T22:16:00.000-07:00

I’ve been back almost a month now. I’ve been holding off the itch to travel by reminiscing about my time in the Philippines, and now that I’m finally done with that exercise I fear that the itch is coming back.

Rene thinks I suffer from Delayed Trip Gratification (DTG) when it comes to traveling abroad. It doesn’t happen all the time but it does hit me now and again. DTG is when you are in a foreign place and all you can do that moment, that afternoon, that day is whine about something silly: how hot (or cold) it is, how it ruined your day that [blank] wasn’t being served for lunch, how rude that waiter was, how obnoxious all the tourists are (except you, hee), how you have to wait so long to get from point A to point B, yada yada the list goes on. Does that sound like something you do? Then after you get home all you can tell your family and friends is how wonderful that trip was, how you’d love to visit again, how the sights were marvelous, and how you wish you were still there. It’s almost downright schizophrenic, really, to switch from Whiny Wendy to Thankful Tammy once you get home. Then you regret letting all those petty worries take over you and beat yourself for not living in the moment. This has happened to me more than once.

All I can remember about my trips are the good times, and the bad times are either forgotten or romanticized. For example, Rene and I once took a boat launch from a small Australian town called Gladstone to Heron Island (in the Great Barrier Reef). That launch was rough – practically all of the passengers were out in the deck throwing up and praying for land. I took Dramamine an hour before and was doing fine; Rene, however, “wanted some air” (read: was feeling seasick) so we ended up hanging out in the rear deck, breathing in the acrid smell of vomit for a solid hour and a half. Now we affectionately call that vessel “the Barf Boat” and find it amusing that everyone was hanging off the side rail with a deathly green pallor.

I suppose DTG is better than the alternative – remembering only things that went wrong on the trip. Because honestly, who doesn’t want to cherish their travel memories, no matter how imperfect?

Pearl of the Orient

2008-06-23T23:55:00.001-07:00

On my second-to-the-last day in the

Philippines

I scheduled a tour with the great Carlos Celdran of Celdran Tours. (If you are planning to visit Manila in the future, I highly recommend bookmarking his website.) His tours are among the best I’ve ever taken, and that says a lot coming from a person that LOVES tours, particularly walking tours and bike tours.

His tour, entitled Living La Vida Imelda! is an “architectural tour of the Cultural Center of the Philippines Complex as seen through the life and aspirations of Imelda Romualdez Marcos.” I was intrigued with the juxtaposition of architecture and Philippine history, not to mention the woman herself. Who could forget Imelda and her 3,000 pairs of shoes? This was the woman who famously said, after her family was exiled from the country, “They went into my closets looking for skeletons, but thank God, all they found were shoes, beautiful shoes.”

I’ve been intrigued by Imelda ever since I visited Malacanang Palace in the late 1980s. Malacanang Palace is the Philippine equivalent of the White House, and for a time it was open to the public for tours. I remember going with my mom, wearing my brand new white peep toe shoes, feeling sophisticated and grown up. I was astonished by the fact that a woman could own THAT MANY pairs of shoes (and with labels like Chanel, Ferragamo, Givenchy and Dior! A girl can only dream of owning such precious jewels!), and a light bulb went off in my head. I’ve never looked at shoes the same way again. Currently, my closet is home to about 30-something pairs of fine-looking shoes, shoes that I adore and treasure.

The Cultural Center of the Philippines (or CCP) is located in Manila, and opened its doors in 1969 to promote and preserve Filipino arts and culture. It opening was attended by then-California Senator Ronald Reagan and his wife Nancy, and has showcased the Bolshoi, Kirov, Royal Danish ballets, as well as contemporary American, French, German and Philippine companies. In its heyday, luminaries such as Marta Graham and Rudolph Nureyev posed alongside the former First Lady onstage.

It’s hard to imagine that such a promising young couple, Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos, would go down in history as one of the most corrupt leaders in the free world. In the beginning, the Marcoses were branded as the Philippines’ version of John and Jackie Kennedy. During his first term, Marcos made substantial land reforms, developed infrastructure, improved health care, and boosted the economy, leading others to see the Philippines as a country on the rise. Sadly, along with these improvements came human rights abuses, rampant corruption and embezzlement, and voter fraud. Marcos was finally thrown out as a result of the People Power Movement. I remember my parents participating in the and wearing lots of yellow at that time, the color of the movement. Marcos and his family were exiled to Hawaii in 1986, where he died three years later. The saddest part about Marcos, in many people’s eyes, was the great president he could have become.

In a way it was fitting that I ended my vacation with a tour like this. It reminded me of my heritage, my history, and how great this country was, is, and can become. Despite its many faults, it’s hard not to love your homeland, a country with unshakeable spirit and an abundance of natural beauty. I plan to visit again in the future, and have already created a list of must-see places that I didn’t experience this time around:

Mt. Mayon: This is one of the most photographed sights in the Philippines. In the shape of a perfect cylindrical cone, Mt. Mayon is one of the world’s most active volcanoes, erupting 14 times since 1900.

Banaue Rice Terraces: Natural landmark created by the Ifugao tribes nearly 2,000 years ago. The tribe created a sophisticated irrigation system using bamboo tubes and mud channels to bring water to the terraces. Growing up I thought it really was the eight wonder of the world, not realizing how subjective and oft-used the title is when it comes to landmarks.

Vigan: a Unesco World Heritage site since 1999, this city is an example of a Spanish colonial town with its cobblestone street, Spanish-era mansions and horse-drawn carriages. This city was spared from American carpet bombing during WWII when the Japanese fled the city.

Palawan: a true diver’s paradise, Palawan boasts some of the best wreck diving in the world at Coron Island and some of the most stunning marine seascapes at the Bacuit Archipelago. There’s also a subterranean river at Puerto Princesa that can make you feel like you are journeying to the center of the earth.

Apo Reef: one of the largest coral concentrations in the world, the crystal-clear waters of Apo Reef is home to diverse species of coral and underwater wildlife such as hammerhead sharks, turtles, and manta rays.

Donsol: once a sleepy fishing village, Donsol is the place to go if you want to snorkel alongside whale sharks. Supposedly you can see as many as 15 of these gentle giants during the peak months of February to May. The only catch? You have to be a decent snorkeller and in relatively good shape to keep up with the sharks.

Boracay: the one-stop shop for a beach vacation in the Philippines, where you can indulge in everything from relaxing spas and white-sand beaches to sports like windsurfing and diving. There are also many dining options, and there are many local clubs to spice up the nights.

*****

This is my last post about my trip to the Philippines. I hope you enjoyed hearing about my experiences and learned something along the way.

Having a Gay Old Time

2008-06-18T10:32:00.000-07:00

A week after I arrived in the Philippines my dad’s friends from high school took me and my mom to a comedy club called Laffline. Unlike most comedy clubs here in the US (except maybe some in San Francisco or West Hollywood) all of the comedians are gay Filipino men. Actually, let me re-phrase that: FLAMBOYANT gay Filipino men.

Their “look” ranged from someone you could mistake as a beautiful woman to what can only describe as hot tranny mess: men wearing pancake makeup and trendy but ill-fitting clothes. What they all had in common was their talent and comedic chops, which kept us entertained from 9 pm to 2 am.

It’s hard to keep an audience entertained for five hours straight on original material (which could take YEARS to write and perfect), so the warm-up act (which consistent of six entertainers) used the audience as the material – as in, make fun of. They warned us from the very beginning that this would happen and that the audience shouldn’t be offended – it’s all in good fun. I was a little apprehensive because we were sitting in the front row, and the easiest targets are the ones they can see. There was no cover of darkness between the stage and us, so I had to make sure I didn’t do anything to catch their attention. They did make fun of me eventually – for not finishing my food and for sitting with “rich ladies” who also didn’t finish all their food – but I got off easy compared to other people. There was this poor man from Cebu who got ribbed for the way he looked. He was not an attractive man, and they zeroed in on that, teasing him about where he came from and who he was related to (insert unattractive animals here). I am so glad he was a good sport about it; otherwise there’d be beat-downs in the alley after the show.

The featured performer didn’t hit the stage until close to midnight but he was worth the wait. He sang, told jokes, picked people out of the audience to join him onstage, told more jokes, sang again, and called it a night at 2 am. This was our cue to call it a night as well – we had so much fun and laughed so hard that our sides hurt, and by then we were pretty tired. It was non-stop entertainment that night, which meant that we didn’t get a chance to talk to my dad’s friends, three very lovely ladies who took us to the comedy club. Maybe next time we'll pick a venue more conducive to conversation.

Taal Lake

2008-06-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

Ever since I can remember, I’ve been intrigued by Taal Lake. I’ve visited many places in the Philippines during my childhood but never Taal Lake or the surrounding city, Tagaytay. I finally got a chance to see the lake during this trip, and I’ve got to say: it’s one of the most beautiful and interesting places I’ve ever visited.

Taal Lake is about an hour south of Manila by car, close to Los Baños. My aunt’s old friends Tito Boy and Tita Mila drove us there and another friend, Tita Gloria, showed us her family’s resort on Lake Taal’s waterfront. We had lunch at this fabulous place called Josephine’s that had a stunning view of the lake. I couldn’t believe that such a lovely scene could also be deadly: in the middle of the lake lies Taal Volcano, which is submerged underwater. The only part you can see is the caldera, which is also called Volcano Island.

(I don’t know if you’ve noticed that I sometimes put “Tito” or “Tita” in front of people’s names. In Philippine culture it’s a sign of respect, and it means “Uncle” and “Aunt.” Everyone who’s older than you has to have a title before their name, like “Uncle” (Tito), “Aunt” (Tita), “Big Brother” (Kuya) or “Big Sister” (Ate). It’s just how we roll.)

Taal Lake is a freshwater lake (the third largest in the Philippines). After a series of major eruptions in the 16th century, the lake was closed off from the sea by newly-formed land bridges. Succeeding eruptions buried numerous lakeside towns, and only three towns are on the lake's shore. Old lakeside towns with buildings and walls are reported to be seen under the lake's waters. Several centuries of rain has diluted the lake's salty waters into pure freshwater.

Because the lake was until recently, connected to the sea, it is home to many species that have evolved and adapted to the desalination of the lake's waters. Its most popular endemic species is the overharvested tawilis, the world's only freshwater sardine. Taal Lake is also home to one of the world's rarest sea snakes, Hydrophis semperi. This particular species is only one of two "true" sea snake species that are known to live entirely in freshwater. (Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taal_Lake)

If you are ever in the Philippines, you should definitely visit this place. More pictures here.

Vintage Manila

2008-06-16T23:27:00.000-07:00

Above is a newsreel of Manila from 1938. This was shown in American movie theatres before the feature. It's interesting seeing images of the city 70 years ago, back when it was under American rule, before the city was mercilessly bombed by the US during WWII to drive out the Japanese.

You should watch with the sound on to hear the commentary.

Los Baños

2008-06-12T22:21:00.000-07:00

A few days after my Grandma’s birthday party, my great-uncle Nap (short for Napoleon) invited us to a resort in Los Baños for an afternoon of fun in the sun.

Los Baños is located an hour south of Manila in the province of Laguna. The area is known for its thermal hot springs (the literal translation of Los Baños is "the baths" in Spanish), the University of the Philippines campus (academic institutions such as the International Rice Research Institute and ASEAN Center for Biodiverisity are housed in the UP campus) and buko (coconut) pie.

Los Baños and the surrounding area of Laguna are also known for Mt. Makiling. Mt. Makiling is an inactive volcano that rises about 3,000 ft above sea level. Several local legends surround the mountain, and it is widely believed that the contour of the mountain is that of a woman in a reclining position – the various peaks are her face and shoulders, and the slope on the right side is her hair cascading away from her body. In one story, a fairy named Maria Makiling fell in love with a hunter who had wandered into her kingdom. Soon the two became lovers, with the hunter coming up the mountain every day. They promised to love each other forever. However, the hunter fell in love with and married a mortal woman, leaving Maria deeply wounded. Realizing that the she could not trust mortals because she was so different from them and they were probably just using her, she became angry and refused to give fruits to the trees, let animals and birds roam the forests for hunters to catch, and let fish abound in the lake. People seldom saw her, and those times when she could be seen were often only during pale moonlit nights. There are more stories here.

Photo courtesy of www.gotophilippines.blogspot.com

We arrived at Los Baños shortly before lunchtime. The rest of my family had driven up earlier in the day and were there by 9 am. By the time we got there everyone had already swam in the pool and were on to the next activity, either letting out their inner rock star on the karaoke machine or napping in a hut by the side of the pool. We were only there for an afternoon but I could have easily spent a week hanging out by the pool and taking long afternoon naps.

After a quick swim in the pool, we were served a feast: grilled fish (fresh from the market), Filipino-style barbeque, grilled chicken, pancit, and the biggest shrimp I’ve ever seen. For dessert there were ripe mangoes and bananas. It’s the perfect lunch for a lazy afternoon, something light and healthy to satisfy an appetite worked up from swimming in the pool.

After lunch my great-uncle Nap took us on a tour of UP Los Baños, a beautiful campus near the resort. Seeing the expansive lawns, lecture halls and libraries made me a little nostalgic for my college days. After taking a few pictures and hearing about my great-uncle Nap’s experiences there we called it a day and returned to the resort to have afternoon merienda, which is a meal between lunch and dinner. We had palitaw, a Philippine dessert made of sticky rice coated with coconut and dipped into sugar mixed with sesame seeds. It was heavenly. It reminded me of my childhood, when ladies would sell palitaw in the street from a basket perched atop their heads. Nothing beats a fresh batch of palitaw, which is my second favorite dessert next to halo halo. What a perfect day.

More pictures here.

Go Grandma, It’s Yo Birthday

2008-06-08T23:55:00.000-07:00

The main reason I went to the Philippines last month was to celebrate my Grandma’s birthday. My Grandma celebrated a milestone birthday, her 75^th, and my parents and I came to represent. The party was held on her rooftop terrace overlooking the neighborhood where I lived until I was eight years old. Our old house has since been demolished and replaced by a string of four identical townhouses my Grandma built a few years ago. All of my Grandma’s children and their families, except my dad and Uncle Art, live in this compound.

The lot next door belonged to my great-grandparents, and their house has also been demolished to make way for a new structure. It made me sad to see only rubble and fruit frees remaining from the old house and yard; I remember visiting that house frequently as a child to visit my great-grandmother. My great-grandmother and I got along very well, and she would often fix me sandwiches made out of pandesal and condensed milk in the afternoon. This may sound like a weird thing to eat but it was my favorite food at the time, and I looked forward to eating that sandwich every day. I often think about my great-grandmother whenever I see cans of condensed milk at the grocery store, and remember the times I spent on her lap, both of us moving to the rhythm of her rocking chair while I ate my sandwich. I miss my great-grandmother; she passed away when I was 12 years old.

The neighborhood has changed dramatically since my last visit. The most dramatic change is the height of the homes – back then houses were one story or two stories tall at the most. Now it looks like contest for the tallest building: most of the houses are now two or three stories tall, sometimes even four, with many yards being swallowed up and becoming part of the house. Yards have been replaced by rooftop terraces made of concrete or brick that provide little shade during the heat of the day. However, rooftop terraces can make pretty cool party venues at night, and this is where my Grandma’s party was held.

In a way the party was like a mini-family reunion. I got a chance to meet relatives I never knew I had and got reacquainted with ones I haven’t seen in over 19 years. The last time I saw my cousin Patricia she was only a toddler, and my cousin Gladys wasn’t even a year old yet. Now they are educated ladies, Patricia having just graduated recently from college and studying for her NCLEX certification for nursing and Gladys starting her last year of college at University of the East this month. I also met cousins Benjie, Boggs, and Ira for the first time, after years of seeing their pictures at my Grandma’s house. I caught up with my aunts Anna, Malou, Jing, and Lala, who used to babysit me during school holidays and vacations, and who remember me as a scrawny eight year old kid that liked to climb trees and hated afternoon naps.

Despite the rain showers that appeared just after dinner was finished, the party was a success. Everyone, including the DJ hired for the occasion, moved downstairs where my Grandma blew out her birthday cake. I am already looking forward to seeing her on her 80^th birthday party in 2013.

More pictures here.

Baguio

2008-06-06T06:00:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid living in the Philippines, my favorite place to visit was Baguio. Baguio is a popular vacation destination for Filipinos, a city nestled atop mountains in northern Luzon. The city was constructed as a mountain retreat by US military forces back in the 1900s and still serves as the primary training camp for the Philippine National Army. During WWII Camp John Hay served as the headquarters for the invading Japanese forces.

At 10 years old I remember boarding a bus for an eight-hour ride from Manila. It was a fancy bus – we took the one with air conditioning and a TV, which, back in those days, was a VERY BIG DEAL. I don’t remember which movie we saw but I was transfixed by the fact that we were watching a movie! They could’ve shown us a movie of someone reading the telephone book and it would still have a magical effect on me. I am easily impressed.

The reason I liked Baguio so much is because it was so unlike Manila. Up in the mountains, the air was clean and crisp. The temperature was cold enough to wear a sweater, something that hardly ever happens in heat and humidity of Manila, where tank tops and shorts were my daily uniform. You could go horseback riding in a park, and afterwards you could shop for strawberries and strawberry jam. Best of all, you could see Igorot (indigenous people who live in the area) up close and even take a picture with one of them. These are the things that made Baguio exciting for me as a kid; this, along with the extended family and friends that would always accompany us on the trip. For me, going there was like combining my birthday and Christmas into one weekend, and I counted down the days to our departure.

During my recent trip to the Philippines, we visited Baguio overnight and stayed at an enormous house – it was comprised of three levels with four bedrooms on each floor. It was actually a company house for my dad’s high school friend, who kindly drove us to Baguio and all over Manila during our stay (thanks Tito Larry!).

Given my wonderful memories of the place, I was disappointed to find that it did not live up to my expectations. Gone is the Baguio of long ago, with lots of open space and beautiful parks. In its place is a city with too many jeepneys, tricycles, houses, and people. It feels like many parts of the city had fallen into disrepair and lost its glory, chief among them Burnham Park (named after the American architect who planned the city). I don’t recall the park being so small but it was, and we circled the entire place in about half an hour.

After walking the park, we visited the area where you could rent horses and ponies by the hour. This is where I rode my first horse as a kid, and have always stopped by every time I visited Baguio. This time I didn’t feel like riding the horses because they looked so sad, and also because only kids were riding horses at the time. All the adults were on the sidelines watching their kids, making me feel too old to ride.

At the end of the night, we had dinner at the SM Mall overlooking Burnham Park. Have I mentioned how many malls there are in the Philippines? Everywhere I went in Manila there was a mall not too far away, which I’m convinced is the reason why Manila has so little green space. It’s a shame really, having so many of these concrete structures mar the natural beauty of the place. It’s not that I’m against malls – I do live in SoCal after all, and there are many malls where I live – but I like them spaced apart enough to allow room for parks and gardens. In Baguio the SM Mall is built atop a hill overlooking Burnham Park and the city center, which if you ask me, ruins the scenery.

The next day we drove around Baguio and stopped by Mines View Park to admire the view. From the vantage point you could see several small rice terraces, with the granddaddy of them all, Banaue, about four hours northwest by car. Nearby is Good Shepherd’s Convent, were the nuns sell strawberry jam, peanut brittle and ube (sweet purple yam) to help welfare programs overseen by the convent. We always buy our jam at Good Shepherd’s not only because it goes towards a good cause but also because it’s the best jam in all of Baguio. We also stopped by Camp John Hay to walk amongst tanks and other weapons from left over from WWII.

Right now it’s the beginning of the rainy season in the Philippines, and that means rain every afternoon in Baguio. After visiting Camp John Hay we called it a day, right as the raindrops started to fall. The rain reflected how I felt about seeing Baguio again – it brought tears to my eyes, like seeing an old friend wasting away, becoming a remnant of their former self.

Click here for more pictures.

Can’t Escape the Bright Lights

2008-06-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

Living in LA and working in the entertainment industry, I have seen my share of movie sets and celebrities. I’m not one of those jaded types from LA who are, like, so over celebrities – seeing them does get me excited, and I try not to make a fool out of myself. I try not to make a big deal of their presence and treat them like normal people, although it is hard to act that way when you are standing only a few feet from George Clooney, shooting hoops between takes of Ocean’s 13. (Sadly, Brad Pitt wasn’t there but I did glimpse Matt Damon at the cafeteria another day.)

While on vacation I was pleasantly surprised to learn that a prime-time soap called My Girl is filmed in my hotel’s lobby and mezzanine. This is a Philippine version of a popular Korean soap opera of the same title. (Korean and Spanish soaps, both dubbed in Tagalog, are a big hit in the Philippines. Seeing Mexican actress Thalia speak Tagalog is hysterical!) The main characters are named Jasmine and Julian, with the roles played by up-and-coming actors Kim Chiu and Gerald Anderson. I haven’t seen very much Filipino television except for game shows (Wowowee) and a soap called Lobo on The Filipino Channel, so I had no idea who these guys were. My relatives, on the other hand, knew all about them and were thrilled to learn that they were filming in our hotel. They’d visit on filming days and disappear for hours at a time to watch the actors perform their scenes. They even got to ride up the elevator with Gerald Anderson, and now my nieces have a crush on him.

On the first day of filming I was typing away on my laptop, feverishly answering e-mails and balancing my checkbook before my battery ran out. The hotel promised broadband access in every room but in reality WiFi was limited to the lobby area (grrrr). I’m usually in pajamas or in sweats when I surf the net, meaning I look like a total slob, so when the film crew arrived to set up the lighting equipment and shoot scenes I looked like I was part of the production team with my thick glasses and a grungy tank top. That’s probably why they didn’t make me move from my spot in the corner of the lobby, a place where I watched all the scenes being acted out without being in the camera’s range.

A few days later I watched the show and saw a 20-second scene that took them an hour to film, along with scenes filmed the following day. Even though I had nothing to do with the finished product it still felt nice to witness those moments and talk to my cousins and their kids about the experience.

It’s All Fun and Games until Jetlag Smacks You in the Face

2008-06-04T13:55:00.000-07:00

Going to Manila was fun – I got to experience my childhood home once again, after being away for 19 years. The city has certainly changed, both in good and bad ways, and places I remembered from childhood seemed less impressive after all those years. About the only thing that didn’t change is the abundance of great food, especially green mangoes and halo-halo (Filipino dessert made out of crushed ice and 1,000 other ingredients mixed together). I had a good time overall and was glad to be heading home after two weeks.

The flight back was pretty uneventful, spiced up by some turbulence on the flight from Seoul to LAX. Unlike boats and other watercraft, airplane turbulence doesn’t give me motion sickness. Get a couple of waves under a boat, though, and I turn green. (I have to take Dramamine for most boat rides.) The flight home was also spiced up by a passenger wearing the most ridiculous outfit: a black and white velour sweatsuit with “babe” written on the backside, punctuated by a diamond-encrusted belly ring protruding from her big gut. It was impossible not to notice this woman as she made her way through the transfer terminal in Seoul. Hey, if you want to get noticed this is the thing to wear, and it screams “I am five years behind trends and I am oblivious!”

I got back on Sunday, and thankfully had the next two days off from work. It’s amazing the amount of things that need to get done on “days off”, and I am always exhausted on days like these. For starters, there was loads of laundry that needed to be washed – not just from the trip but dirty clothes that accumulated before taking off for Manila. Then there were the appointments to see the dentist, to get my hair cut (see Picture of the Day above), followed by a million errands. Somehow I also managed to squeeze in a 5-mile run on each day, leaving me exhausted yet unable to get a full nights’ rest due to jet lag. My body’s crazy – I cannot carry on a coherent conversation after 8 pm but I am wide awake ready to face the day at 3 am. I will probably have sleep issues for the rest of the week, which is inevitable when you come back from a place that is 15 hours ahead.

I have five belated posts still to come from my trip to the Philippines, which I will start posting tomorrow. Honestly, there were so many places to go and people to see during my time in Manila, and I am surprised that I have not yet crawled under my desk for a nap after all this.

Mango Picking

2008-06-02T02:20:00.000-07:00

A week after arriving in Manila, my dad’s high school friends scheduled a visit to a mango orchard to pick green mangoes. I’m unsure if anyone outside the Philippines eats green mangoes – they are the raw version of the sweet and soft fruit that everyone knows and loves. I think Filipinos have a deep love for things sour and salty, and this definitely fits the bill. Green mangoes are crispy, sour, and go great with rock salt or bagoong. (Bagoong is a salty shrimp paste consumed all over SE Asia and may be seasoned with different flavors. I like mine salty and spicy, and I am lucky that I can purchase this at my local Asian market in LA.) I am salivating right now just thinking about it.

This is the first time I’ve ever gone mango picking and didn’t know what to expect. I thought it would be easy pickings (as in no ladders or climbing required) but it turns out that mature mango trees can be tall, and sometimes you need to use a sunkit (a long piece of bamboo with a metal hook and net) or climb the tree to get the ones at the top:

That’s my dad up on the mango tree, showing off his mad climbing skills.

My dad’s high school classmate’s family (whew, say that three times fast) took great care of us, preparing such delicious meals that we were thoroughly stuffed by the time we left. My Aunt Dolly may kill me for saying this, but they made the best dinuguan I have ever tasted:

Everyone who came was grateful for the experience. We were given all of the mangoes we picked. My parents and I picket a basketful of mangoes each, and gave most of them away to friends and family who come to visit us. Of course, we made sure to save a few for ourselves and had a ball eating them during our stay.

Click here to see more pictures.

Intramuros

2008-05-27T17:09:00.000-07:00

My flight to the Philippines was spectacularly uneventful. I flew Singapore Airlines from LAX to Manila, and I think I found my favorite airline. The flights were organized and on-time, the seats comfortable, and the flight attendants helpful and courteous. Honestly, I could not have asked for a better airline to fly for 16-hours: 12 from LAX to Singapore, and another four from Singapore to Manila.

On my third day here, I signed up for a tour of Manila’s historic Intramuros district with Carlos Celdran, possibly Manila’s most entertaining tour guide. He’s featured on the Lonely Planet guide to the Philippines and other publications, as has been featured on several travel shows. I highly recommend signing up for one of Carlos’ tours if you are ever in Manila. His enthusiasm and love for Manila is infectious.

Intramuros is a walled fortress on the mouth of the Pasig River, which from inception served as the residence of the Spanish ruling class. Within the walls are government buildings, hospitals, and stately homes from the Spanish and American colonial period. It's Manila's historic heart, and a great starting point for the tour.

We met at San Agustin church, the only surviving church from Manila’s Spanish colonial period, was built in 1606. During this period a total of seven churches were built by the Dominican priests, but only San Agustin survived the bombing of Manila during WWII, as well as several earthquakes. It’s interesting to note that the Philippines has no natural building materials aside from bamboo, and the church is made out of volcanic ash mixed with dirt. According to Carlos, our tour guide, the materials used is like building a church made out of sponge cake, and it is truly miraculous that it has survived this long.

During the tour I learned that the Philippines is the link between the Far East and Europe – because of the trade route, many cultures settled here along with the Spanish, most notably the Chinese from Guangzhou and Muslims from Indonesia and Malaysia. Here are other interesting bits:

- Spain didn’t really colonize us, it was the priests running the show. To Spain we were at the edge of the world and most of the governors who came to the islands were brought here as punishment and were only allowed a single term of two years – which includes the time it took to make it over here. Of course, none of these governors were effective as they were ushered out almost as soon as they arrived here. It was the priests that ruled the Philippines – they erected churches and brought Catholicism to the masses. They spoke to the natives in their own language, thus ensuring survival of Tagalog and many regional dialects.

- We were purchased for a total of $20M along with Guam and Puerto Rico after the Spanish-American War. We were an American colony from 1898 until 1945 or so, after the end of WWII.

- During the American colonial period we were considered the Pearl of the Orient because of the beautiful city of Manila. During this period, trade flourished between Europe and Southeast Asia, and we were the gateway to Asia. There were many beautiful Art Deco buildings erected in Manila during this time, most of which perished during the bombing of Manila during WWII.

It’s been a while since I’ve been in a tropical country, and the heat is staggering. It’s absolutely sweltering here in Manila. Every time I go outside I get sticky within 15 minutes, and I have to shower at least once a day now. Even my hair is up in arms – every time I curl it or style it, it gets frizzy after an hour and it ends up in a bun at the end of the day. It’s gotten to the point now where I don’t even bother fixing it anymore and just wear it in a bun or ponytail.

More to come regarding the trip to Manila. Pictures from the tour are posted here.

Still Here

2008-05-22T18:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Internet,

I am still alive! It's been a hectic week since I arrived in Manila, and I have not had any time to myself. I promise that several posts are forthcoming, all in various stages of completion. In the meantime here are views from my hotel:

Malibu Creek Trail Run

2008-05-12T08:37:00.001-07:00

Compared to the disastrous race at Santa Monica the weekend prior, last weekend’s Malibu Creek race was an absolute joy to run. Well, as joyful as it can be at the crack of down on Saturday morning. There's a certain satisfaction derived from finishing a race before most people even wake up.

There were actually two types of races that day: 14-mile or 4-mile, and both have a little bit of Hollywood history. The 14-mile trail takes runners through old, bombed-out jeeps and trucks from the outdoor set of M*A*S*H. The 4-mile race climbs up a single-track trail that descends into Cage Creek Trail, where the cage scene from 1968’s Planet of the Apes was filmed.

Old M*A*S*H set

Photo courtesy of www.malibucreekdocents.com

Scene from Planet of the Apes, 1968

Photo courtesy of www.movieprop.com

I ran the 4-mile race with Rene and May. It was a challenging course with a steep hill in the middle, but fun at the same time because the course went downhill (as in descent, not as in "got much worse") after that. There were no snafus with the course, unlike last time, and the scenery was breathtaking.

I was more prepared this time around and brought a change of clothes and a warm vest with me to wear after the race. They served orange and watermelon slices (soooo good!), croissants, donuts (courtesy of Krispy Kreme), and scrambled eggs. I know that doesn’t sound very healthy but it tasted so yummy after running a race like that.

We stuck around and watched the end of the 14-mile race, where the first place finisher came in at 1 hour, 39 minutes. That’s an average of 7 minutes a mile despite a gigantic 3-mile incline in the middle. I averaged about 9 minutes a mile in my race but my incline wasn’t nearly as tough – I think I ran about a mile uphill with the rest divided between flat and downhill surfaces. Overall, I enjoyed this race very much, and will probably be running it next year.

More pictures here.

Manila, Manila

2008-05-08T11:00:00.000-07:00

Manila, Manila
I keep coming back to Manila
Simply no place like Manila
Manila, I'm coming home

For the past two days that song’s been stuck in my head, if only because I‘ll be coming back to Manila in less than a week’s time. After today, I have three work days left before I go on vacation. Whoo hoo!

I was born in the Philippines and spent part of my childhood there. My family immigrated to California when I was eight years old. I haven’t been back to visit the Philippines in almost 20 years – the last time I was there was 1989. That is a LONG time to go without a visit, especially since the most of my mom and dad’s family still live there. We are traveling there next week celebrate my Grandma’s 75th birthday and to visit relatives that we haven’t seen in years (some I’ve never met – both my parents come from big families, my dad being the second of six children and my mom being the 12th of 13. That is a whole lot of family.)

I am also visiting to learn about the country and my heritage. I’ve been living in California for most of my life and I was educated here – because of this I think I am more culturally American than Filipino. I can understand the language perfectly but speaking it is a challenge. I struggle with putting sentences together because I have to translate my thoughts from English (YES, your thoughts have a language!), and because I fear looking stupid I second-guess myself and revise what I’m going to say over and over before it even comes out. I know little about Philippine history and only know about traditions that I’ve seen in my family. This gives me an uneasy feeling because I don’t know where I belong in the scheme of things. I think foreign-born children who grow up in the US or who are born here to immigrant parents go through this dilemma – an uncertainty about belonging to a native country.

All this nervousness aside, I am looking forward to my trip. I am especially looking forward to the food – exotic fruits and vegetables not sold here such as lanzones and green mangoes and snacks/sweets from childhood that you can only get in Manila (pastillas and fishballs). I am also looking forward to reacquainting myself with a city (have I mentioned that the third largest mall in the world is in Manila?) and a country that I’m certain has changed tremendously during the last 20 years.

The Internet Has Spoken, and It Wants Me to Cut Mah Herr

2008-05-07T07:47:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I asked the Internet to help me decide on whether or not to cut my hair. A lot of time has passed since my disastrous Florence Henderson (aka Carol Brady) back in 2006, and well, it’s about time for a change. Of the seven of you that voted, four of you said that I should cut my hair during the summer, one of you said that I should cut my hair after reaching my 5K goal time of 19:55, and two of you said that I should keep my hair the way it is (or rather, stop messing with your hair already). Internet, I am a woman of my word, and I will be scheduling an appointment with my stylist in about a month or so to get either this cut:

Or this cut:

Since I don’t know which cut will go better with my hair texture/type I am bringing both of these photos in and asking my stylist which cut suits me. Communication is key! Hair takes time to grow back, and getting the wrong cut can mean months of misery. I’ll keep you posted with the results.

6/3/08 Update: See result here. I love my stylist!

Speaking of haircuts, guess who is getting one this weekend? I'll give you a hint: he’s an adorable guy who loves to go on long walks, cuddle in bed, and is not afraid to show his feelings:

He’s been shedding these past few weeks, leaving little tufts of red fur wherever he lays down. His coat is getting a too thick and heavy for summer, and it would be nice to see him like this again:

He's not getting a cut as short as this (due to a miscommunication with his groomer, which you can read about here and here) but you will see a big difference. Cute, no? He transforms from a little bear to a little lamb. I think it's much easier for him to sport this cut during the summer as it gets very hot here in LA, especially for a dog that loves to stay indoors.

Santa Monica Classic

2008-05-04T23:00:00.000-07:00

I’ve been looking forward to running the Santa Monica Classic 5K for the last two weeks. To prepare for the race Rene and I have incorporated speed in our workouts, and made sure to work on our pace by running 1-mile repeats during the week. I was on target to run the race in 24 minutes, a pace of eight minutes/mile. I was even hoping to go below 24, if I felt good towards the end of the race, by picking it up on the last mile and finishing in 23:30. That was my plan, and on the morning of the race I expected to see either 23:30 or 24 minutes on the clock next to the finish line.

The race was staggered according to mile times: there were pace leaders holding signs for different times, and I got behind the one for 8 minutes. At the start of the race I felt good and surged ahead of the pace leader, hoping to run a faster time. I felt pretty good during the first two miles: I was relaxed and running a consistent pace around eight minutes/mile, and approached two-mile marker in 16 minutes. At the start of the third mile I picked up the pace, but saved some energy for the finish, in which I would go for broke and use up all the energy and speed I had.

After passing California Street, which was supposed to be the turnaround point (both the 5K and 10K races use the same course, with a turnaround point for the 5K race), I became a little worried but thought that the organizers had moved the finish a few blocks away, probably due to traffic and/or pedestrians in Santa Monica. When I still didn’t see a SIGN or a PERSON directing runners after the fourth traffic light (and the people ahead of me still running straight ahead – keep in mind that only the 5K was being run at this time, the 10K race hadn’t even started yet), I asked the people next to me if they knew where we should turn around for the finish. I told them the course map said we should’ve turned at California Street, and after a few seconds of thinking about it we turned around and hurried towards the finish. At this point I was starting to get upset – we ran longer than a 5K but didn’t know how much we overshot. It seemed like an eternity to the finish, a finish line that was poorly marked and overcrowded. I was already SO OVER that ridiculous race that I didn’t even bother to sprint to the finish. What was the point? The course wasn’t marked, so the times and rankings were off, depending on when people turned around for the finish. My time at the finish line was 30:04, and after I cleared the chute I was STEAMING – I was pissed at the race organizers for doing such a poor job and not making it clear to the runners where they were supposed to go. And it wasn’t just me – EVERYONE was pissed because their times were off. Even the pace leaders ran further than 5K due to lack of signage/direction – the same pace leaders who were supposed to know the course and guide runners.

The organizers really blew it. What was the point of having people run a race if they couldn’t stand by the accuracy of the distance, time, and ranking? Lots of people, myself included, care about that information. That information helps determine if the workouts we had the week prior helped, and what the goal time should be in the next race. Worst of all, it was my first race of the season, and I was so disappointed that it went so disastrously. I have never before run a race where runners were not given proper instructions. That being said, I don’t think I’ll be running this race again next year. It’s a shame, really, that it worked out this way. It’s the charity that benefited from the race, Heal the Bay, that’s going to suffer next year and not the organizers.

The race expo was held in the Santa Monica pier. Rene, May and I drowned our sorrows in free food, drinks, and race swag. We walked away with some nice things: a dri-fit race shirt and socks from Nike, reusable (and compact) grocery bags from Heal the Bay, and all the Powerade and Volvic water we could get our hands on. (We felt pretty slighted by the race organizers so we took a LOT – we now have enough drinks to last us a week.) About an hour after into the expo the race the results were posted, WHICH WAS STUPID AND BOGUS, and I came in 279^th place at a pace of 7:34/mile (the pace time was based everyone running four miles instead of 3.1 miles – but who’s to say everyone ran four miles? I probably ran close to four miles though.). I don’t know why they even bothered posting the results because you couldn’t trust one piece of information on that paper except your name and age. The finish time, rank, and pace were all WAGs (Wild Ass Guesses) – it’s a wonder people didn’t riot and beat up the organizers then and there. I was too hopped up on Powerade and bananas to care.

More pictures here.

I am running another race next weekend in Malibu Creek. It’s a 4-mile course with this crazy hill in the middle, a hill that might surprise people who don’t expect it. I ran this course a few weeks ago with Rene and May, and even though the hill is only about half a mile long, it’s narrow and steep and feels like it goes on forever. The only thing I’m asking for next weekend is for the race organizers to have their act together. The last thing I need is to run up another hill that's not part of the course.

***

UPDATE

On Monday afternoon I found this message on the race website:

As many of you know, the turnaround marker on the 5K was set in the wrong place for some time during the race, and many of you were forced to run almost 7K. The runners in the Santa Monica Classic have justifiably come to expect a high level of service, and it's my job to provide you with a well-marked course. I obviously didn't do that today, and you can blame me for that.

By the time we corrected it 300-500 runners were affected. As for the results, we've extrapolated everyone's 5K time based on their per-mile pace. While this may not be entirely accurate, it gives a fairly close approximation of the time you would have run had the course been properly marked. Please accept my apologies, and I'd be happy to extend a $10 credit for next year's race if you feel the event did not match your expectations. Heal the Bay thanks you for you support, and we hope to see you back next year.

Sincerely,
Peter Abraham
Race Director Santa Monica Classic
info@santamonicaclassic.com

I looked up the "official" results, which weren't any different from Sunday morning, except for one glaring mistake:

According to the results, my husband Rene is a female that finished first in his age division! Ha ha! He did pretty well on the race, finishing 45th overall and 5th in his age division. Since the results are rubbish, it remains to be seen if they'll send him a medal for finishing first in the 30-34 FEMALE division.

These Dirty Flats Never Looked So Good

2008-05-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Aww yeah.

I just dug up my old racing flats from the garage last night, and I am planning to use them for the 5K race I am running on Sunday. It’s been 12 years since I ran a race.

I’m excited and nervous at the same time. I’ve been running for the past month or so, and while I have been getting better I’m nowhere near the shape I was when I ran cross country in college. Back then I ran anywhere from four to eight miles a day, and I remember being physically exhausted most days. But I also remember fun times – cross country season was like one long field trip. Most days we would run on trails around the college, and some days we would take the college vans or the bus (which we called the “people mover”) out to different places, just because we were feeling bored that day. We raced all over southern California, traveling as far north as Santa Maria and as far south as San Diego. Back then I cared more about the camaraderie and the new places we visited, and my race times got lower as the season progressed, which was an added bonus.

Now I am in competition with my younger self, and am hoping that I can finish the race less than 24 minutes. That’s an average of 8 minutes a mile, which is roughly the same time I finished my first race of the season 12 years ago. I'll be wearing these old racing flats to help me remember the good ol' days and to bring me a little luck on race day.

Tribute to Princess

2008-04-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Princess,

It’s been almost a year since you’ve passed away and not a single day goes by that I don’t think of you in some small way. Had you lived, today would have been your 10^th birthday.

You were my first real pet, the first pet that I’ve been solely responsible for. I tried my best to keep you fed, walked, and entertained. If I fell short during your lifetime, forgive me. I was trying to focus on some things that turned out not to be very important when I could’ve been spending that time with you.

We never knew what caused your sudden illness. You were so patient, even during the difficult last days when we visited vet after vet, who could never diagnose or understand what was wrong with you. You gave me great joy during the nine years that we were together and you passed away way too soon. It’s become clear to me that that’s the way life is – it’s always the good ones that die too young.

I hope that you are having fun in doggie heaven, going for long walks and sleeping in enormous feather beds like you loved to do here on earth. Most of all, I hope you get to eat as much chicken as you want without getting an upset stomach.

I love you, I miss you, and will never forget you.

XOXO

Mom

So Proud

2008-04-29T14:00:00.000-07:00

Today my sister passed the NCLEX exam. For those of you who have no clue what that means, it is an entry-level competence exam for licensure as a registered nurse and/or a vocational nurse. My sister Genevieve has been studying for the exam since January of this year, and all that hard work has finally paid off! Congrats to my smart and lovely sister!

Wherever the Day Takes You

2008-04-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

It was HOT last weekend in SoCal! Temperatures soared to a whopping 95 degrees in my 'hood on Saturday and Sunday, making for very lazy afternoons where we napped and watched the NBA playoffs. Rene and I thought about visiting some beaches in San Diego on Sunday, but this happened last week. Supposedly the Great White Shark that attacked a triathlete is still in the area, so authorities closed San Diego beaches as far north as Carlsbad for the weekend.

We ended up running six miles on Saturday (followed by push-ups and tricep exercises whose impact I still feel today – ouch!), and on Sunday we got up extra early (6:30 am) to tackle five miles before the heat came. Where I live, the heat feels like a dozen lasers pointed at you whenever you come in contact with sunlight – on really hot days it is that intense. I usually make it a point to run in the morning or late afternoon to avoid getting burned alive.

Our run on Sunday was tough. We ran a trail called Towsley Canyon, and the first half of the run (roughly 2.5 miles) was a never-ending climb with an elevation of, oh, HALF A MILE. It wasn’t too bad in the beginning, during the first mile or so, but there were some sections that kicked our butts and we ended up walking some parts of the trail. I normally hate stopping during my workouts but it was too much – the hills were killing my calves so I decided to take it easy and walk long strides. I also had to stop during the downhill portion due to really bad side cramps, which has plagued me for the past week. I’ve been trying to make adjustments to my diet and workouts to get rid of them but I can’t seem to shake them. Rene thinks it’s because I bounce too much when I run, and consequently irritate or shake up my insides, resulting in side cramps. Have you ever had side cramps like this? If so, how did you get rid of them?

After our run we ate breakfast at Way Station Cafe in Newhall. It’s a nice local place with a small-town atmosphere, where the waitresses called you “Hon” (even though ours was not a day over 18, making it a little awkward for me to be called “Hon” by someone ten years younger) and is decorated with old license plates, framed newspaper articles from the 1970s, and other vintage signs. It was nice seeing license plates from states like West Virginia (Wild, Wonderful), Montana (Big Sky), and New Hampshire (Live Free or Die) while eating breakfast.

On our way home we came across the William S. Hart Ranch and Museum, which piqued our interest. We stopped to see if there was anything interesting to see when a friendly old man came up to us and told us that further up the hill were bison (bison! In SoCal!) and a historic house that gave free tours every half hour. Since I love tours, and free ones at that, we climbed the path to the house, where we came across these babies:

Don't they look a little like my dog Chuy? They were given to the property by Walt Disney back in 1962 and have been residing there ever since. It's really quite a sight to behold, bison in the heart of suburbia. I was really happy to see them, considering that bison don't run around SoCal, and the only ones I've seen live in Catalina Island (they were left there after filming wrapped for The Vanishing American).

So who is William S. Hart, and why is his estate open to the public? William S. Hart was an actor in the silent film era famous for playing cowboys. He was famous for carrying two six-shooter pistols (rumored to be from Billy the Kid) and was nicknamed Two-Gun Bill. Mr. Hart was the inspiration behind characters played by Gary Cooper and Clint Eastwood. He had a horse named Fritz, who had his own fan club, and owned many dogs. The Spanish Colonial Revival home, called La Loma de los Vientos, was designed by Arthur R. Kelly during the 1920s. Arthur R. Kelly also designed many other homes in SoCal during that time, including the Playboy Mansion. I was very impressed with the house, especially with the quality of the materials used to build it. According to our tour guide, all the doors are made from a single piece of wood, and the structure sustained no damage from the Northridge Earthquake in 1994. After William S. Hart's death in 1946 he willed the entire estate to the LA County Museum of Art, and it has been open to the public ever since. I recommend stopping by if you are in the Valencia area.

We spent the rest of the day getting ready for the week and relaxing at home. It was nice discovering a place I didn't even know existed, another gem in the crown of LA.

More pictures here.

A Vera Lovely Spring

2008-04-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

I love spring and all that it represents: awakening, renewal, and growth. I love seeing trees sprouting brand-new leaves, like a bald man whose hair has started growing again. I love seeing flowers bloom from the ground, displaying their colorful petals and shiny leaves. This time of year everything is so gorgeous, especially here in Southern California, that simply being outside is like being in a garden.

My allergies, however, are telling nature to suck it. Every morning this week I’ve woken up to a stuffed (and sometimes leaky) nose. Euhhh! During the day I sneeze about 1,523 times and I constantly scratching my itchy nose and eyes. (No wonder people don't want to shake my hand at work.) I’ve had to start taking my allergy medication this week, which I normally don’t do unless my allergies are superbad (and they are). The thing is, my medication has a teeny, tiny bit of steroids in it to help shrink my sinuses but nowhere near the amount that would, say, cause me to turn into the Ultimate Warrior anything. But still, a part of me thinks that all the tiny steroid amounts I’ve ingested are being stored somewhere in my body and will someday get together and form a revolution. I fear that they will turn me into Vera De Milo from In Living Color (dude, remember that show?!):

It’s just a thought, one of the million random ones I have throughout the day. If you use Flonase or Nasonex, don't you think about it too?

Olympic Hoopla

2008-04-23T00:27:00.000-07:00

For weeks now I’m been mulling over whether or not to write a post about the hoopla surrounding the upcoming Olympic Games. I LOVE watching the Olympic Games: the thrill of seeing athletes from around the world represent their countries in the opening ceremonies, the elation of watching track & field events not broadcast in the networks, and best of all, learning about the journey of the athletes to the games: the struggles they overcame to compete, and their inspiration to keep going. In my opinion hearing stories about the athletes is the best part of the Olympics. Some of them have had to overcome so much just for a chance to compete at such an elite level that it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. I heart the Olympics and cannot wait until its broadcast on 8.8.08 (have I mentioned that 8 is my favorite number?!) from Beijing.

In January I visited Shanghai and found that people were really excited about showcasing their country and having people learn about their culture. For me, China is a country shrouded in mystery, and having them open up just a small part of their country and culture to the world is so exciting for me. I’m disappointed that instead of having the Olympics focus on the athletes and the good aspects of the host country it’s turned into a big political statement instead. For someone so excited at the thought of the Olympics I am disappointed in how events are unfolding.

Let me start by saying that I appalled by the treatment of Tibetans (and for that matter other ethnic minorities in China) by the Chinese government. It is inexcusable to deprive people of their basic rights and treat them as less than human. In my eyes there is no greater evil out there than the pain we inflict on our fellow man. I highly respect the right of people all over the world to call attention China’s abuses towards its own citizens. The Chinese government should be held accountable for these abuses. I believe that sanctions, particularly economic ones, if executed properly, could be useful weapons in letting China know that the world will not tolerate these abuses. Money talks and withholding it will certainly get China’s attention.

That being said, I do not agree with the tactics used by some protestors during this year’s torch relays. Assaulting torch bearers or threatening to disrupt the relay doesn’t undermine the Chinese government – it undermines the individuals who were selected to carry the torch (which is an honor) and more importantly, it diminishes the spirit of the Games. The focus of the Olympics should be on the athletes and their struggles to make it to the world stage. The Olympics should transcend borders and political agendas and provide us with inspiration. The Olympics is a time when we get together as a planet and celebrate each other’s talents. The best part of the Games is seeing the expression on the athlete’s face when they take their place on the medal stand and their national anthem is played – don’t your eyes get misty just thinking about it? I know mine do.

Feeling Touristy

2008-04-20T22:48:00.000-07:00

One of the things I wanted to be when I grew up, circa 1991, was to be a tour guide – seriously. I got the idea after riding the studio tram at Universal Studios, where visitors get a chance to see movie sets and visual effects. Some highlights include the Bates Motel from Psycho, King Kong (but only from the waist up), a re-enactment of a San Francisco earthquake (complete with BART replica), the Jaws shark, and a flash flood effect. Back then all this was magical to me because they’d made these rather fake-looking effects look good in the movies. My tour guide’s name was Lisa and she was terrific – she made the tour informative and fun, even though she probably gave at least a half dozen tours a day. Going on that tour made the world of movies exciting to me, which is probably why I work in the entertainment industry (on the periphery).

Sometimes Rene and I pretend we are tourists here in LA, even though we’ve lived here for most of our lives. The thing about LA is that it’s so big and many people who’ve lived here for years haven’t seen everything. There’s a lot to see – just the other week we drove up to the Antelope Valley to see California poppies bloom, and a few weeks before that we visited the Getty museum. In the coming weeks I’ll be visiting Olvera Street, a historic landmark here in LA. It's fun exploring this city and finding ways to fall in love with it all over again.

A few weeks ago we also visited Citywalk, which houses several restaurants, retail stores & a movie theatre, and is sandwiched between Universal Studios theme park and Gibson Amphitheatre. This was THE place to hang out back when I was in high school a decade ago; now it's probably been replaced by The Grove, where they sometimes film scenes for shows like The Hills.

We visited Citywalk on a Sunday afternoon and found that the majority of people fell into two categories: (1) tourists or (2) people who came to watch a movie. We were in the minority – locals visiting just because – and found it interesting how the place had changed. Gone are the old places we used to visit, like Wizardz (a bar-slash-magic theatre) and Gladstone's (now replaced by the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co.). Back then the most popular attraction was people-watching, especially on weekends when teenagers and college kids would show up with their friends and try to meet new people. Now the most popular attraction is iFly, where skydiving is simulated inside a giant plastic tube using a badass fan. Lessons were being held when we stopped by, and we glimpsed a few brave souls getting blasted to the top of the tube. The instructors seemed pretty blasé about the whole thing – they're probably used to having people like me gawk all day long.

The second most popular attraction was a street show – a couple of guys performing breakdancing moves and stunts. They had attracted a pretty sizable crowd by the time we got there so we didn’t get to see them performing their act. We did, however, get a solid half hour of people watching before we called it a day. Check out these kids celebrating a Quincenera:

And of course I took a picture of Rene "riding" a motorcycle because it was there:

More pictures here.

Hankering for a Haircut

2008-04-17T22:57:00.000-07:00

About two years ago I got a haircut I didn’t like. You see I usually get my hair cut on a whim – the feeling is strongest whenever I have to deal with split ends or have too many consecutive bad hair days. Sometimes I want to just wash my hair and go, instead of having to blow dry and style it. As soon as I get this feeling I schedule an appointment with my stylist and feverishly go through as many magazines as I can two to three days prior to my appointment to decide on a style. If I’ve learned anything from these sudden urges to get my haircut, it’s this: I regret the decision the next day, after I remember that short hair requires more blow drying and styling than long hair, which is what I wanted to avoid in the first place. After getting this haircut two years ago, which made me look like Florence Henderson circa 1972, I vowed to grow my hair out and make it stay that way for a while:

Yep that's me on the far left ,with the shag cut that took forever to grow out. In the middle is my cousin Gigi and on the far right my lovely mom.

Now my hair is the longest it’s ever been, and so far I love it:

This length is perfect for workouts because I can easily pull it back. It is also good for my morning routine because I only have to style it every other day. What’s more I can put it up in a ponytail when it becomes unmanageable or when I don’t feel like doing anything to it. So why do I get an urge, every once in a while, of visiting my stylist armed with pictures of Posh Spice or Ellen Barkin from Ocean's 13:

Rene thinks that I should get a haircut once I’ve become a bad-ass runner. One of my goals is to run a 5K under 20 minutes (around 19:45) so I was thinking about getting my hair cut then. The thing is, well, I have no idea when that will happen – it could be towards the end of summer or it could be next year or it could be never – who knows? What do you think - should I cut my hair this summer or when I reach my 5K goal? Or should I keep my hair the way it is now?

Let me know what YOU think by placing your vote on my handy dandy new poll!

Going Dumpster Diving

2008-04-14T22:36:00.000-07:00

To the untrained eye, my dog Chuy is a dumb dog. He doesn’t understand the concept of fetch – at first he will go after the ball, put in his mouth, and proceed have a fight with it. When you take the ball away from him to throw it again, he has this expression on his face that says now why did you do that? I just got that ball – THANKS for making me get it AGAIN. After five minutes he gets tired of the game and is exasperated: why do you keep making him go after the ball only to take it back and make him chase it again? To him it just doesn’t make sense.

Chuy does not have any concept of the term “heel.” He begs and whines for his daily walk, and as soon as you hit the pavement he has no idea who you are and why you have a leash attached to his collar. It’s like he’s possessed: he lurches forward and drags you along as if it’s his last walk ever. He acts like you work for the city pound and practically runs to avoid you. Thankfully he’s gotten better on his walks and he no longer drags me halfway down the street. However, his walks have a developed a new dimension and he now stops for long periods so that he can lick other dogs’ pee from the grass, or the mailbox, or the tree. Great, my dog has a taste for golden showers. That’s real classy.

Despite my initial assessment of his stupidity, this dog is actually quite smart. So smart, in fact, that he plays mind games by showing you how dumb he is only to perform tricky and clever acts, acts you’d never suspect were master-minded by the dumb dog. He probably rubs his paws together and laughs at how clever he is when we’re not around.

I first discovered this “I’m such a dumb dog” act last year. Rene and I used to avoid using the word “walk” around my dog Princess (who passed away almost a year ago) because she would get so excited when she heard it. She knew exactly what it meant – that we were going to put on her leash and take her around the block. Playing the dumb dog, Chuy never let on that he knew what the word meant, until one night he showcased his skills as the clever dog, which I wrote about here. Not only did he know what “walk” meant but he also knew how to let us know he wanted to go for a walk. Before she died Princess was his boss, and she was the one who let us know when she needed to go outside (and Chuy came by proxy). She wasn’t nearly as bossy as this red ball of fur that whines and begs for his walk every day. As if bucking like a bronco every time we approached the area where his leash is kept isn’t enough of a hint.

Today my mom and brother came home for lunch and found the contents of the trash can all over the kitchen floor. The trash was sorted in a meaningful way; in the middle of the floor sat my almost-empty boba container with the end crushed, as if someone was trying to squeeze all the leftover boba out. So where was Chuy when this discovery was made? He was lying in the hallway, acting innocent. He was all like dang someone threw all your trash on the kitchen floor. My mom tried to scold him, but he stayed put and wouldn’t look her in the eye. He was so busted.

He’s had priors – this is the second time Chuy’s knocked over the garbage can and eaten the contents. My mom just couldn’t bring herself to punish him because he was being so funny. At first he gave her the puppy dog eyes and wagged his tail at her, and when that didn’t work he looked away and avoided eye contact like he was pleading the fifth. He managed to push his way through my room’s closed door and he stayed there until she left the house.

Chuy is such a punk; for the rest of the week he will have the most horrible diarrhea. He eats garbage like fine cuisine and his stomach pays for it. He just got a bath yesterday, and now I will be spending the rest of the week wiping his butt and making sure he doesn’t have any sort of poop stains on his fur. Thanks a lot Chuy.

Kiss and Make Up

2008-04-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

About two years ago H&M and I had a falling out. My family and I were shopping at the H&M in New York’s Herald Square, and when it came time to pay the cashiers were rude to my mom. My mom picked up a pair of jeans in a rack that said $19 but at the register the jeans rang up as $49. My mom pointed to the rack where she got the jeans from, and the cashier (who clearly had NO idea what customer service meant) rolled her eyes and said something along the lines of “the jeans are $49 live with it.” What upset me wasn’t what she said but her tone and attitude were so condescending, like my mom deliberately tried to cheat them out of money.

After my mom finished her transaction I went back to that cashier and told her she was rude. I told her that I didn’t like her disrespectful tone towards customers and that last customer happened to be my mom. She was nonchalant about my complaint, like I was nitpicking the way she folded clothes, and even asked her co-worker if she was rude to customers. Her co-worker said that if someone didn’t know the price of jeans then that wasn’t being rude – that was just setting them straight. So I asked her why didn’t she explain that it was on the wrong rack, that it happens all the time – why the attitude? To make my point I returned all the stuff I just bought and told her that I wasn’t going to shop there ever again. There are so many other stores out there that deserved my business, so why should I waste my time with one that clearly did not appreciate my business? For two whole years I avoided H&M like the plague.

I’ve been living an H&M-free life until today, when I went to the mall to get my watch battery replaced. There was an H&M store nearby, and since I had twenty minutes to kill I decided to go in. There were some good deals – cute summer dresses for $16 and accessories under $5. Then and there I decided that two years was long enough to make my point. After all, that H&M was in NYC, a city that seems to have it out for me (every time I’ve gone to New York someone’s been exceptionally rude to me). Customer service in LA is different – for the most part cashiers are pleasant and eager to make a sale. When I got to the register I was greeted by a nice cashier who asked me if I found everything ok, and I was all why yes, thanks for asking. Then H&M and I went to the back room and made out.

These are the things I bought, all for under $30:

A light summer dress perfect for the season

A great pair of earrings for $3

Big hoop earrings I’ve been searching for

A long, delicate necklace

Shoe Rx

2008-04-08T22:41:00.001-07:00

When was the last time you got measured for a pair of shoes? This hasn’t happened to me since I was nine or ten years old, when a salesperson at Kinney Shoes measured my feet for a pair of sneakers. I’ve been wearing the same size (size 7) since high school. Then last week Rene and I noticed a cool new running store next to Trader Joe’s called Roadrunner Sports. Our friend May, who runs with us on Sundays, needed a new pair of shoes so we went with her to visit the new store.

Roadrunner Sports offers this fantastic service where they determine the best kind of running shoe for you based on the shape of your feet and your running style. It’s really high tech: first they make you step on this gray pad with sensors to determine how high your arches are and which parts of your feet absorb the most pressure. You view the results on a computer screen, with color and everything (you’d think I was having a medical procedure performed!) and the store associate talks about your feet – apparently I have high arches, absorb pressure with the balls on my feet and heels, and push off with my big toe and second toe (who knew?!).

Going over my foot scans with Tana, the best sales associate EVER

Then they make you run barefoot on a treadmill so they can capture video images of your feet striking the ground. This shows whether you overpronate (run with your feet pointing outward, supinate (run with you feet pointing inward), or have a neutral gait (your feet are pointed straight, which occurs in only 20% of the population). I found out that my left foot is neutral but my right foot overpronates slightly. According to the foot and treadmill analysis, I need shoes for stability/cushion, as well as inserts for my high arches.

They made May and I run down the middle of the store to try out our “prescribed” shoes. It was like a little runway up in there, with customers running up and down the store all gussied up in new shoes.

May working those shoes and lookin' fierce!

I was impressed with the shoes I tried on, the Asics Gel Kayano 14, but I just bought new running shoes last month and couldn’t justify buying another pair of shoes. They cost a whopping $135, which is beaucoup bucks for a running shoe! They were so pretty though, with turquoise trim around the bottom, that they will most likely be my running shoe purchase six months from now. Here’s a picture: I felt bad about taking up so much time and not buying the expensive shoe that I ended up buying the arch supports inserts (which I did need). The inserts feel great but yesterday I laced my shoes too tight and got a blister on my left arch. Honestly, who gets a blister on their arch? I am hoping that it doesn't sideline me for the rest of the week - I'm feeling good for the first time in a month!

Why the IRS has a Rotten Reputation

2008-04-07T17:40:00.001-07:00

I’ve wanted to write a post about getting audited by the IRS for the past week but this post has eluded me. At first I thought, how ironic, getting audited by the IRS. You see, I used to be an auditor but I didn’t work for the IRS. I’m an accountant, and right after college I worked for a public accounting firm as an auditor, and after that, as an internal auditor for a large company. The shoe is now on the other foot, so to speak, and the auditor has become an auditee.

At first I was going to write a witty post about how my experiences as an auditor has helped me prepare for this moment and how the poor IRS should watch their back because I was “bringin’ it.” I imagined my examination would be a big joke, like on Seinfeld: remember that episode where Elaine had to justify claiming a water pick and a down comforter as business expenses? She proved it by using the water pick to water her plants in her office and by wearing the down comforter as a toga? I wish my experience was something like that, but getting audited by the IRS is every bit as daunting and nerve-wracking as it sounds.

I’ll spare you the details – basically the results of our audit came down to a single statement I made during the examination, a simple statement that was twisted and misconstrued to the point where it resembled nothing of what I meant to convey. During my examination I had to dig my nails into my palms to prevent myself from having an outburst (and also from punching the IRS jerk in the face). Now I have to write a very detailed letter to the examiner (aka IRS jerk) supporting my position, as well as produce additional documents. All on account of one sentence! One simple, harmless sentence that I clarified a million times during our conversation. If there is a lesson learned here it’s to watch every single thing you say to the IRS because they will twist your words to fit their interpretation, and that means paying them money.

As soon as the IRS jerk heard something to "nail" us, he went to town and showed us the IRS code supporting his argument. Despite giving many examples of how the IRS code DID NOT apply to us, the jerk still soldiered on, almost gleeful that he “caught” us doing something wrong. My dad thinks that people like that love putting other people down because they couldn’t get a job elsewhere and are socially retarded. Before the audit I would’ve disagreed and said that IRS auditors are just doing their job but now I am in total agreement with him. I now think 90% of people that work for the IRS are socially retarded and/or have poop for brains (I would’ve written something else but this blog is PG).

So now I am writing my fact-laden letter to the IRS and collecting documentation for my position. If anything, my experience has helped me prepare for moments like these, and more importantly, put me in touch with very good, experienced writers to proofread my response. So take that IRS jerk and shove it in your file cabinet!

Things I Think About When I Visit the Orthodontist

2008-04-03T23:39:00.000-07:00

Whenever I visit my orthodontist, I am the oldest patient in the waiting room. I think the Moms and Dads scope me out and wonder how old my kid is, totally unaware that I AM the patient. It’s only when I am called that they figure out I am there for an appointment, and not to wait for my kid to finish getting their braces adjusted. I imagine that they use me as a cautionary tale for their kids once I leave the waiting room: “See that? If you don’t take care of your teeth you will be coming back to have your teeth straightened again, when you’re old, just like HER.”

I do hope that my example makes kids want to take better care of their teeth. I once had braces for almost three years, from when I was 10 years old until I was almost 13. Back then, braces were metal (it was REALLY expensive getting the clear ones, and even then your teeth usually looked like you’ve been eating butter for days). My teeth were bad – I wish I had a picture from the third grade to show you (these will have to do for now) – but basically my top front teeth were almost facing each other, and I had this really big canine tooth on the right side of my mouth. They eventually had to file that bad boy down before the braces come off.

These pics don't showcase them really well, but check out my perm during the 7th grade in the bottom picture:

When the braces did come off my teeth looked great. Everything aligned properly, and for once I didn’t feel embarrassed eating in front of anyone. At the time I had a choice between getting retainers and positioners for me teeth, and I chose the positioners. Unlike the retainers, the positioners only required an hour commitment each day, and you could put them in whenever you wanted. The thing is, flexibility doesn’t really work for teenagers – I put off putting that positioner in my mouth for as long as I could, and after I was done with it I wrapped it in paper towels, put in on plates, on the coffee table… it was gross. Eventually I lost them (no surprise there with my carelessness) and I thought, eh, I could live without them. And live without them I did, until my teeth started to shift, and by the time I got my braces for the second time, my front teeth had started to face each other again. My teeth aren’t horrible, but for a person obsessed with good teeth, mine weren’t good enough and were getting worse.

I’m not the only one to get braces for the second time. I know two executives in my present and former job that now have braces (the clear ones thank goodness – how awkward would it be to talk to an executive with a mouth full of metal?). Both of them got braces again to fix their bites, and when I overhead my orthodontist explaining to a kid and his parents that the braces would have to stay a little longer to fix his overbite, the kid hemmed and hawed, and the parents gave in, telling my orthodontist that they would let him know next month. I wanted to pipe up and say “you should get that fixed NOW, before you grow up and have to have braces AGAIN!” but I shut my mouth. Sometimes people take offense when you are offering them advice, and they doubly hate it when you give them advice about their kids.

I am counting down the months till these braces come off, which is July this year. That’s only three appointments from now, and I can’t wait to get them off. This time, I will be wearing retainers for the rest of my life.

Running for My Life (and I'm NOT Talking About Exercise)

2008-04-01T00:46:00.000-07:00

The other day I was complaining that my runs have gotten boring. I mostly run after work, after it has gotten dark, and because of this my routes are mostly out-and-back affairs: 1.5 miles out (or two, depending on how much I’m slated to do that day) out, then turn around and come back home. In the Valley I run on sidewalks and on flat streets, and after a while these routes become tiring. Lately I’ve been looking forward to running on hills and trails, and the only place I’ve found to do that at night is Pierce College.

Pierce College started out as an agricultural college years ago in the Valley, and even now a part of the campus is dedicated to that curriculum. The west side of campus has fields where corn, tomatoes, and other crops are grown, an orange grove, and an aread where cows graze. It even has trails in the back where high schools compete during the Cross Country racing season. One night I decided to run a loop around campus, which is almost exactly three miles.

I had run the same trail with Rene the night before: the trail started at the school’s east entrance, followed the trail up to the stadium, down the hill and around a dirt trail in the back where a new road is being constructed, and back out into the streets of Woodland Hills, finishing at the same entrance where it started. That first night it was pretty uneventful – we ran at a relaxed pace and I made sure to pick up my feet while running through the dirt trail (I tend to shuffle, so I trip on anything – gravel, rocks, dirt – you name it). At one point Rene mentioned that wild animals lived in the orange groves and back trails. To me that likelihood seemed so far-off – I mean, I've heard of mountain lion attacks in the Santa Monica Mountains but we were running in the Valley and nothing like that ever happens in the Valley. Or so I thought.

The following night I followed the same exact route. Everything seemed to be going fine until I reached the other side of the hill, where the asphalt turned into dirt and tractors were parked on the side. This was the dirt trail, and that night I was rolling along, grooving to the music on my headphones and watching out for big rocks. A minute into it I heard a faint sound: aaawoooooo. At first I thought it was my music – I thought that maybe may have been an animal sound on the soundtrack that I never noticed before. Huh. I kept running, and not ten seconds later I heard the same sound again: Aaaawoooo, only a little louder this time. Panicked, I turned the sound down and listened for the sound again. Sure enough, I heard it again a few seconds later and it was coming closer: AAWooooooo. It meant only one thing – a coyote was nearby. AWWOOOOOOO. The only thing I couldn’t figure out was what the howling meant: was it warning me to stay away or was it telling me that it was hot on my tail and ready to pounce on me in the darkness?!

Fearing the worst, I stepped up my pace to the point where I was running all out but careful with my footing lest I twist an ankle and end up as the main course for a coyote. In my frenzy my thoughts were going a million directions: did the coyote smell fear in me? Was I making too much noise? Maybe I should be lighter on my feet! What if it jumped on me, what weapon could I find nearby? What about a rock? I need a big rock, a really BIG rock, in case that bad boy started nipping at my heels! And why are my lungs and legs burning? Where is the exit? Is it around the corner? How long will I take to get there? It can’t come soon enough! Where is my phone when I need it? Oh great, I am going to die out here and no one will find my body for weeks, not until they come to move the tractors out and find my ripped clothes or shoes near the brush.

So, yeah, I ran for my life! And when I finally did see the exit to De Soto Avenue (which felt like an ETERNITY), I had never been so glad to see a sidewalk, cars, and street lamps in my life. I had to keep running to get to my car, which was on the other side of the campus, but once I got there I gulped down the water I had in my car, stretched my sore legs, and drove home. The next day my calves were so sore that I didn’t run the next day. I figure running away from a coyote was such a good workout that surely I deserved a day of rest.

On Sunday I came back to Pierce College to run mile repeats, and after the workout Rene and I cooled down by jogging on the trail behind campus. I had a view of the construction area and from there the scene didn’t look so menacing. Of course, it was a bright Sunday morning, and it’s only scary when you’re running by yourself at night, with coyotes providing the soundtrack to your workout.

In Bloom

2008-03-30T20:45:00.000-07:00

The golden poppy, California’s state flower, blooms every year from mid-March to mid-April. It’s a glorious sight transforms the dead weeds and grasses of Antelope Valley into fields and hills of gold. We’ve gone to see it a few years ago, and returned on Easter Sunday to see it again:

More pictures here.

If you live in Southern California and have never seen the poppies in bloom, you should try to catch a glimpse before all the new blooms die off. Click here for a link to the Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve, located in Lancaster, CA (approximately an hour from the San Fernando Valley).

Getting a New Set of Eyes

2008-03-25T00:59:00.000-07:00

I normally wear contact lenses and only use my glasses for times when my eyes need a break from contacts (usually at night) or when my eyes are irritated and can’t tolerate contact lenses. Because I don’t use my glasses that often I don’t upgrade the prescription every year; I can usually wear the same pair for two or three years, depending on my prescription.

I’ve had my glasses for about three years now, and was due to replace them in May. That was the plan until three weeks ago, when my glasses fell apart. The bridge that connected the lenses broke in half for no reason at all (well, it seemed random to me, but a technician later told me it's because I take them off using one hand, which puts stress on the bridge and causes them to fall apart). At the time I was hesitant to replace them because I only had two more months to go, and I figured I could hold out for at least that long. I mean, I only use the darned things at night anyway, so surely I could come up with a temporary solution until May came around.

At first I put tape around the bridge to hold it together – very nerdy, like the head geek from Revenge of the Nerds – except that mine were brown frames held together with clear scotch tape (as opposed to black frames and white tape). That worked out for about a week, until the adhesive ran out and couldn’t hold the two sides together. I didn’t want to keep taping the bridge so one night I came up with a great way to fix my glasses: why not fuse them together by melting the plastic and fusing the ends together? Genius! Totally WWMD, as in What Would MacGyver Do.

I was successful the first time out. Very carefully, I put each side of the bridge over the stove’s open flame and waited until the plastic melted on both sides, then fused the two ends together. Then I ran my glasses under cold water to strengthen the heat bond (right?). The thing about fusing plastic lenses together is that you have to melt just the right amount of plastic from each side and connect the two parts together at just the right angle so that you don’t get a lopsided frame. If done incorrectly, you end up looking like you’re sporting a pair made from two distinct glasses, like Sawyer always wears in Lost. I looked like I was wearing Sawyer’s glasses, only uglier. I was pretty happy with the result despite the awful-looking glasses. The people I lived with didn’t seem to care, so why should I?

The glasses stayed fused for a few days – they came apart as I was putting them away one night. The fusing method wasn’t so bad, I thought, so why not try again? Only this time I’d connect them at the proper angle and stick them under cold water longer so they wouldn’t fall apart so easily. Once again, I stood in front of the stove and held the two pieces together over the open flame. I was just about to fuse them together when I felt an intense heat near the top of my head and realized my hair was on fire! I dabbed at my hair and splashed water at my head. I surveyed the damage and was relieved to find that I had lost only a few strands of hair near the scalp. I combed out the burned parts as best as I could and tried to blend the rest with the longer layers. It was then that I stopped messing with my broken glasses and wait out the next two and a half months. So that night, and for the next week, I wore my contacts until bedtime, and read by pushing my books close to my face. It sucked. Toward the end of the week my eyes were burning from wearing contacts all day and my arms hurt from pushing the book so close to my face.

It finally dawned on me last Friday that I should just go to Lenscrafters and have new glasses made. After all, I had already budgeted for new glasses this year, and even though I'd be missing out on my insurance discounts I was prepared to spend the money now instead of putting up with my current situation, which sucked.

The next day, Saturday, I visited my optometrist, got my prescription, took the prescription to Lenscrafters, picked out new frames, and my glasses were ready in about an hour. It was amazing and I regretted not getting new glasses earlier. The price turned out to be around the same amount I wanted to spend for glasses, fancy new frame and all. Here were the finalists:

The first pair turned out to be too wide for my face, the second too petite, and the third too similar to my old pair. I ended up getting this pair, which combined the color and shape I wanted, and it fit nicely:

I came back an hour later to pick them up, and this is how they look on my face:

I am really happy with these new glasses, and might even consider wearing them to work whenever I need a break from my contacts. Unlike my previous pair, these frames hide the thickness of the lenses pretty well (my prescription is -6.25 on both eyes, which means that these would look like coke bottles if I didn’t choose the thinner, lighter, anti-glare lenses). They are worth every penny.

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

2008-03-24T16:20:00.000-07:00

No matter how many times I mention how I love living in LA (the lovely weather, the near-constant sunshine, the number of places to explore) there are inevitably downsides to the City of Angels. Chief among them is the relentless, never-ending traffic and its twin counterpart, rude drivers. On most days I co-exist peacefully with traffic and rude drivers, however painful, but an incident that took place last Thursday that really shook me up.

Last week was Spring Break here in LA’s public school district, and traffic was uncharacteristically good. Almost scary good – for a few days I kept checking my dashboard clock, my watch, and my iPhone to make sure that it was indeed a weekday and that I didn’t oversleep by accident. In my mind, that was the only reason why traffic was so good – I was horribly late for work. Thirty minutes to get to work was like a god-send, a rare luxury in the world of LA commuters. For once, I had gotten to work by 9 am everyday.

Last Thursday my husband needed a ride to work. It was only a mile out of my way, and given the little congestion on the freeway during rush hour, I agreed. After dropping Rene off, I had to make a right turn into a big street in order to get to the freeway entrance. I looked to the left and the right (to make sure I wasn’t mowing down any pedestrians crossing the street) then back to the left again. I saw a pack of cars approaching the intersection a safe distance away and decided to make my right turn. Right after I turned I cut across two lanes to the left (thinking there was no one behind me) so I could make a beeline to the freeway entrance – big mistake. Within seconds of changing lanes, I heard the roar of a motorcycle engine and an irate motorcyclist was soon riding next to me in traffic, on the driver’s side, revving his engine and muttering curses, throwing his fists in the air for emphasis. I was feeling very badly about the situation and my huge miscalculation when he pulled in front of me and kicked my car. That’s when I began to see red. To me, it was the equivalent of being shoved while walking down the street and I was not taking any abuse from this motorist.

After kicking my car the motorcyclist crossed over in front of me and began yelling more obscenities to the passenger side of my car (keep in mind that all of this occurred while in motion, IN TRAFFIC, when cars were moving). I’d had enough – I rolled down my passenger side window and started yelling out things that would make Andrew “Dice” Clay blush, complete with middle-finger action. Oh it was a sight to behold – a screaming match during the morning commute between a white sedan and a motorcycle. This continued for a good minute and finally stopped when the motorcyclist sped off and made a right turn before the freeway entrance.

I was LIVID! It took the rest of the drive to work to calm me down. I called my husband and described the incident – he rides a motorcycle everyday to work – and he said that some motorcyclists will kick or hit cars to make their point. I asked him if he’d ever done anything like that – hitting a car to make a point – and he said no. He said there are too many crazy drivers here in LA, and who knows what kind of retaliation he’d get in return – that driver may have a gun and may be ticked off enough to use it (drive-by shootings do occur here in LA), or worse, the car driver might mow him down and catapult him into oncoming traffic. But apparently, despite these gruesome scenarios, it is common practice for some motorcyclists to bang on cars with their hands or feet. My husband makes sure to stay alert, stay out of blind sides, and generally avoids cars to prevent potential accidents. He said that I shouldn’t take it personally and that it happens to a lot of people, but I couldn’t help but feel slighted for something that I felt was a personal attack. After all, that motorcyclist did curse me out and kick my car – it’s hard to feel any empathy for such a rude reaction. I would’ve been extremely apologetic had he tapped my window (once we came to a stop) and told me what I did wrong – after all, my husband drives a motorcycle, and the last thing I wanted to do was cause an accident.

In retrospect, the incident was entirely my fault. I didn’t see the motorcyclist when I scanned for oncoming cars but SHOULD have looked behind my shoulder before making that left lane change. I was STUPID for not looking, and I caused a motorcyclist to brake hard to avoid colliding with my car. That being said, kicking someone’s car and cursing them out while in traffic is not the appropriate way to point out their mistake. I felt cornered and abused, and the only way I could react at the time was to throw the cursing and hand gestures back to his face. It was not my proudest moment, but I really hated being yelled at and put on the spot. To me, it’s like getting backed into a corner, and I’m left with no other choice but to claw my way out.

There was another instance about three years ago when a taxi driver and I totally went at it. I was in San Francisco for a weeklong business trip, and my co-worker and I hailed a cab at the airport to take us to our hotel. I didn’t sense right away that the cab driver was having a bad day – I politely told him where we were staying (Palace Hotel) and the address. When he didn’t respond I told him again where the hotel was located and its cross-streets – to which he angrily yelled that he heard me the first time, that who was I to think that he was an idiot, and that he was tired of having people repeat things over and over to him. My co-worker Juna later told me that after the cab driver started yelling I stiffened up and my eyes widened in surprise. I yelled back to him that I was NOT going to accept his rudeness (which may have been peppered with F- and S-bombs) and that if he had problems with someone else to not take it out on us. He replied with more F- and S- bombs, turned the taxi around, and took us back to the airport. He practically threw our luggage out of the cab once we got there, and I made sure to give him a piece of my mind before he left. The nerve! I couldn’t believe that I was arguing with a cab driver first thing in the morning, and in my favorite city of all places. Luckily, we ended up getting the next cab and got to our hotel without incident.

Despite these two incidents, I’m normally not one for confrontations – I always try to avoid them and go about my business whenever possible. If a salesperson is rude to me, I don’t get huffy and yell – I just stop shopping at that store (this is why H&M is on my banned list of places to shop). If someone cuts the line because they’re friends with the person in front of me, I just let it go. But if someone yells at me out of anger, for no good reason, then I’m on the defensive and I come out swinging. But talk to me in a respectful manner and I'm all ears, apologetic for the incident and eager to have it resolved.

We should all strive to give each other a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T. A little goes a long way.

I'm a Night Runner Yes I Am*

2008-03-20T11:54:00.001-07:00

About 11 years ago I ran cross country and track in college. I was a decent runner, always placing somewhere between the faster and slower girls.

I haven’t run consistently since due to lack of motivation and lack of time. Back in college, we always had our workouts from 1-3 pm, sometimes in the middle of a blisteringly hot day. I always looked forward to practice because there was always someone my level to run with, depending on whether I was having a good day or bad day. There was always someone keeping pace with you and sometimes you even got to chat and get to know your teammates. It was like a sisterhood of runners.

Because of this I’ve been apprehensive about starting to run again. Running is very much an individual sport, and it’s very common for people to talk themselves out of a workout, or even a race. It’s because running allows your thoughts to let loose and totally take over your head – at least that’s what happens to me. Sometimes the most inane songs pop into my head and I can’t stop it from replaying over and over again (like Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head – ugh!). At least when I had the sisterhood someone was with me all the time, helping me get the most out of my workout by having something to focus on instead of the random stuff rattling around my head.

I’ve been running consistently for the past three weeks, always after work, and have been surprised to find that it’s not that bad. I’ve been afraid of starting up again because I wouldn’t have anyone to keep pace with me, which is different from having someone run with me. My husband runs with me but I feel bad sometimes because I’m rolling along at a snail’s pace, which is equivalent to him taking a brisk walk. Bless his heart, he mostly stays on pace with me but I hate feeling like he’s missing out on getting a good workout himself. I feel as if he’s now hanging with the back of the pack instead of surging forward and running with the better guys. His presence helps a lot.

Last night we had our first “hard” workout. Up to now, we have been running three miles at 10-minute pace during the week with longer runs during the weekend. Since we couldn’t find an open track at 9 pm (yeah, kinda late), we found this one mile stretch on Topanga Canyon where we could do some interval training. Interval running means starting at a comfortable pace then running faster (for a minute or for a lap) then settling back to a comfortable pace – slow quick slow. This goes on continuously (depending on time or distance), and running at the comfortable pace is meant to be the rest period. Runners also call this fartlekking (I swear I am not making that term up), and it’s meant to get your heart rate pumping and start acclimating your body to run faster. It also helps build your endurance base, which is helpful when you want to run longer distances. Anyway, last night hurt – as in hurt so good. For the first time in a long time my body felt stronger (wrecked but stronger) compared to the person who started running three weeks ago. I didn’t shuffle (much) and I didn’t sound like I was on the brink of collapse. Now that’s what I call progress.

* The song playing in my head last night was Punkrocker by Teddybears.

Beach Blanket Chuy

2008-03-17T23:23:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday Rene and I took Chuy to a dog beach in the LBC. Normally dogs are not allowed on beaches; there are only a handful that allow dogs on a leash, and an even smaller number that allow dogs to roam free. A portion of the Belmont Beach in Long Beach allows dogs to roam free, and this is sectioned off by orange cones. There’s a few ground rules: dogs must be registered with the city, be up-to-date on their vaccinations and rabies shots, and owners must clean up after their pets. Other than those rules it’s pretty relaxed, and most of the dogs in the beach were having fun chasing waves and going after tennis balls.

Chuy wasn’t like the other dogs. He was a real priss: at first he wouldn’t go play with the other dogs and would only hang out with us in the sand. Other dogs came by to say hi (meaning they sniffed his butt and the really friendly ones attempted to mount him) but Chuy wasn’t having any of it. Chuy always sniffed back but he never went off to play with his new friends. They overwhelmed him. My dog is a real priss.

Rene and I decided to walk around the beach so Chuy could get some exercise. It was fine until Chuy got distracted and after wandering off a few feet became utterly lost. He’d crane his neck to look for Rene and me, as if we’d abandoned him at the beach. He had this worried look on his face even though we were only a few yards away from him. We had to keep calling his name every time he wandered away so he’d stop worrying so much.

After a while we started inching closer to the water, hoping Chuy would take the hint and jump into the water. Instead, he stayed right at the edge of the beach, almost to the water but not quite. He acted like his paws would fall off if they touched the water. Rene and I thought about carrying him to the water and dropping him in but we didn’t want to traumatize him. Chow Chows were bred for many things but a love of water was not one of them. I don’t blame Chuy; can you imagine having to wait for this much fur to dry?

(More pictures here)

Oh, and before we visited the beach Rene bought a truck from an old man in Carson. His name was Jerry, and he lived in a nice trailer park across the street from the Carson Sheriff Station, pictured here:

Does this place seem familiar to you? If you watch Reno 911, it’s the police station exterior from the show. And you know that trailer park where Lt. Jim Dangle lives? It’s here:

It's featured in that episode where Lt. Dangle asks Officer Jones to help him move from one trailer to another.

Here's a picture of Rene's truck:

It's not new but it'll help him get around when he's not tooling all over town in his motorcycle. He said that riding a bike got old after a while because he was always carrying things on his back and not having any place to store his stuff. Now he'll have a lot of storage space and a vehicle that can haul stuff to the beach. I guess the next thing on his list is that surfboard or kayak he's been talking about.

On Running

2008-03-12T22:18:00.001-07:00

I’m not what you would call a graceful runner.

I’m one of those that breathe heavily, like that creepy guy who calls in the middle of the night and does nothing but breathe on the line except multiply that by ten. Add to that the sound of someone alternately shuffling and stomping their feet hard against the pavement and you’ve got me in a nutshell.

People I pass on the street can hear me coming a block away. People who are running look twice, as if to ask themselves if they look as uncoordinated as me. Because I’m so loud and clumsy I prefer running on the streets as opposed to a treadmill; running on a treadmill stresses me out. For me, there is a very good chance of stepping on the sides and falling over or punching the wrong buttons so that the belt speeds up instead of slowing down, or forgetting that the conveyer belt won’t stop just because I decide it’s time for my workout to end. Because of this I am a disaster in the gym, and my biggest fear is embarrassment from falling off the treadmill. Forget about any injuries sustained – the shame is waaaay worse. I am always hesitant to join a gym because of this, and in the event that I do embarrass myself I may have to forfeit any pre-paid membership fees.

It’s always awkward starting a running program. In the beginning it’s all about making it to the end of your workout no matter what. At first the runs are slow and halting; you have doubts about making it to the end of the block, let alone surviving three miles. Your clothing bothers you – your sports bra is too loose or too tight, your t-shirt feels like it shrunk in the dryer (yeah right), your shoes are too tight around your ankles and too loose around your toes. All these things distract you as you soldier on, hoping the pain in your side would just go away already. Eventually, if you train consistently, the runs become smoother. The heavy steps morph into graceful footwork. The ragged, tired breathing becomes more controlled and disciplined. At its best, running is your body in perfect sync: endurance with speed, getting faster as the miles keep coming, the clock slowing as you complete yet another mile.

I tell myself this as I will my slow and heavy body to run. I always envision another sleek and graceful runner ahead of me, my future self if you will. My hope is that my initial suffering makes my future self stronger and faster. And this motivation works every time.

Wishing Gunner a Speedy Recovery

2008-03-11T22:05:00.001-07:00

Dear Internet,

My cousin's beloved Rottweiler, Gunner, is sick.

He's lost a bit of weight (12 pounds) and has lost his appetite. He also has a runny rose and has become lethargic. He's visiting the vet tomorrow to undergo some tests.

Please channel your positive thoughts to this dog that loves to cuddle and give wet kisses.

Nick & Jessica: Newlyweds Part 2?

2008-03-11T14:56:00.000-07:00

Overheard while giving Chuy a bath at Dori’s Pet Wash last Sunday:

Customer: So you two are getting married? Wow! You guys are so young. What are your names?

Boy: Nick

Girl: Jessica

Customer: Jessica, what a pretty name. Good luck to you Nick and Jessica!

I don’t think their names were really Nick and Jessica – these kids working the front register were just having fun with a customer asking way too many personal questions. Still, it was pretty funny seeing the kids carry on this conversation with straight faces.

Gloom and Doom: Part II

2008-03-07T10:57:00.000-08:00

I don't know what's been going on with SoCal weather lately. It's been sunny during the week for the past two weeks but when it comes time for the weekend, the clouds roll in and the temperature drops on Saturday morning. Last weekend was the second in a row this happened, and I hope that the weather is not planning on a three-peat performance. It's hard to appreciate the outdoors when it is so gloomy but Rene and I dealt with it and visited the Getty Museum.

The Getty Museum opened back in 1997 but this is the first time we've gotten around to visiting it. Back when it first opened everyone needed a reservation to get in. Now all you need to do it pay $8 for parking and the museum is free. The parking structure is on the base of the mountain on Sepulveda Boulevard and you need to ride the tram to access the museum and garden.

I have to say that the Getty staff are dedicated and always make sure you know where you are going. There are guides that point the way to the tram (even though you can see it as soon as you step out of the parking garage elevators) and let you know how long it will take for the next tram to arrive. The tram ride itself was nice – you have a view of the 405 freeway and the houses that dot the hillside.

Once the tram reached the top of the hill, we made our way towards the garden. It’s a decent-sized garden with wide grassy areas (perfect for picnics and naps) and filled with different types from plants, from succulents to flowering trees and bushes. There’s a stream that starts at the entrance and makes its way downhill towards the garden’s centerpiece: a circular lake with a floating maze in the middle. Surrounding this lake is a path filled with more flowers, shrubs, and trees – it’s quite a sight to behold, even on an overcast day. Already a number of plants and flowers were in bloom but the trees were bare. Rene and I will come back in the springtime, when the weather gets nicer and the trees are showing off their new leaves.

(more pictures here)

We didn’t have an itinerary to follow, so after visiting the garden we wandered off to the nearest building. The gallery had a photo exhibit called Goat’s Dance by Graciela Iturbide. Almost all of these images where in black and white and featured scenes from the Sonoran Desert in Mexico, and village life in a rural area called Tlaxcala. It also featured pictures depicting gang members in East LA from 1986, which I liked the most. She mostly photographed the females (Cholas), and it was interesting seeing how they looked then and now – it doesn’t seem like much has changed. It’s all about over-processed hair, heavy foundation and eyeliner, red lips, and eyebrows plucked into a thin line. I think the ladies in the exhibit looked best when they didn’t have any makeup on.

Rene and I can only tolerate museums for about two hours before we get bored and grumpy (ok, I get grumpy), and after visiting another exhibit for decorative arts (read: furniture), we made out way to one of my favorite restaurants, Houston’s, for dinner.

What a Racket

2008-03-04T11:11:00.000-08:00

The Mafia’s got nothing on the little operation Girl Scouts run this time of year: selling Girl Scout cookies. Sure, it’s for a good cause, even if each box costs $4 (when was the last time you paid $4 for a box of cookies?). You may say to yourself that by buying these cookies I am helping these girls attain their goals. But you are deluding yourself, my friend. The only reason I buy Girl Scout cookies year after year is because I am seriously addicted to them. Be they Samoas, Thin Mints, All Abouts, or Tagalongs, I heart these cookies. I am also convinced that they have some sort of addictive chemicals mixed into their ingredients – how else can you explain cravings for Thin Mints that can never be fully satiated unless you get a box of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies? I kid, of course, but I seriously love these cookies. This love, coupled with them being available only for a limited time, means that I usually eat my weight in cookies at this time of year. They should seriously consider changing the name of All Abouts to All About Me Getting Fat. Or how about Samoas to Samoa: The Size of Your Ass?

Old cube, new cube

2008-03-04T09:32:00.000-08:00

Last Friday I moved from here:

To here:

You can definitely tell how exciting my life is from these two pictures - that I actually took the time to take them and post them. It was the highlight of my week.

The move itself wasn’t so bad; I had two boxes of stuff to transport and the tech guys took care of my computer and phone right away. The new location, though, is a bit perilous. I sit in the cube directly in front of my boss’s office, who is a VP. This space used to be occupied by her assistant, who now sits in front of another VP’s office (the assistant now has two VPs to service and sits sitting in front of the more demanding one). At any time of day the VP can see whatever I am doing, so surfing the internet during the day is risky. I have to make sure she is out of her office before I can open my browser. I’m even afraid that she’s going to start reading blog posts I’ve been typing up on Word so I’ve made my font smaller.

Despite all this, the new cube location isn’t terrible. The best thing about this set-up is this: everyone who brings goodies to share puts them on top of a filing cabinet in front of me. This week it’s been Cadbury chocolates, Girl Scout cookies, and snacks from Thailand. Since I sit right in front of the snacks I get first dibs. Check it out:

I’ve actually been really good and had only two chocolates last night. But that’s not to say that I won’t take all the chocolate donuts if someone brings them. I probably will.

PSA for all eligible bachelors out there

2008-02-29T11:12:00.000-08:00

Today there is an extra day in February on account of leap year, and for those people born on this day, they actually get to celebrate their birthday on the day they are born. Otherwise it’s usually February 28 or March 1 for them.

So what is a leap year, and why do we have it? To find out I went to my favorite website of all time, Wikipedia.org, and found the following:

A leap year is a year containing one extra day in order to keep the calendar year synchronized with the astronomical or seasonal year. Because seasons and astronomical events do not repeat at an exact number of full days, a calendar which had the same number of days in each year would, over time, drift. By occasionally inserting an additional day or month into the year, the drift can be corrected. A leap year occurs once every four years; an easy way to remember is that the Summer Olympic Games always occur during leap year.

I also found out about a tradition that exists on the extra day during leap year: women may propose marriage. Supposedly, way back in the day, men who refused marriage proposals from women had to compensate them to “soften the blow,” and compensation could range from a kiss on the cheek or a new silk gown. Men felt that this law put them at too great a risk, so a new tradition was formed restricting female proposals to the modern leap day, 29 February. I've never heard of this "tradition" but it is interesting. I thought Wikipedia was making this up until I found a postcard from 1908 for leap day.

Gloom and doom

2008-02-26T11:55:00.000-08:00

Last week Southern California was a dreary patchwork of gray skies and rain. Everyone used to sunshine had to put up with wet grass and slick streets for a few days. Poor Chuy had to stay outside last Tuesday and was freezing his little tail off. He snuggled inside our room once we came home and slept like a log for the rest of the night. It’s tough being a dog.

To make up for making Chuy stay outside in the rain, Rene and I brought him to the Santa Barbara Botanical Garden last Saturday for a visit. We had visited the garden last summer and were pleased to learn that dogs were allowed (on leash, of course). We had hoped that the gloominess didn’t extend out to Santa Barbara and that it wouldn’t rain while we walked around the gardens.

We got to Santa Barbara exactly an hour after we stopped at the gas station and Western Bagels. On our way to Santa Barbara we were worried that someone was going to get impatient and start crying in the car (that’s you Chuy), so we took the dog for a walk around our old neighborhood park in Woodland Hills before we started the drive. There were these two yappy little dogs at the park without a leash (which I really hate – all dogs should be leashed unless you are visiting an off-leash park. It’s for their and other dogs’ safety), nipping and barking at Chuy. Their owners thought it was *so cute* but I made sure to give them the stink eye; I don’t think it’s cute when little dogs approach bigger dogs like Chuy because there’s a chance the bigger dog might want to hurt the little dog. My dog Princess, bless her soul, was unfriendly with other dogs and would’ve put these two in her mouth if they approached her. The little dogs then become my problem because their irresponsible owners can’t keep them on a leash, and I have to drag my dog away to prevent them from getting eaten. Luckily for us, Chuy was very nonchalant about the whole thing – he didn’t show any interest in the little yappers and kept walking as if they didn’t exist. It was funny, really; I could imagine Chuy saying "whatever" to the little dogs and continuing to do his thing. He almost sprayed one of them with golden showers because they were practically under him before he unleashed a stream of pee on a tree trunk. They didn’t bother him too much after that.

Even though it was overcast during our drive to Santa Barbara, I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful scenery. With all the rain we’ve been having lately a lot of the wildflowers are starting to bloom, and the hillsides are full of lovely greenery. Even the garden, which is filled with native California plants and succulents, was in full bloom.

We walked around the main garden and on paths that led to the dam and the redwood trees. We didn’t see anything new from last time, except for poison oak, which Chuy loved to brush up against. I keep tugging on his least to keep him away but he loved those plants. People we met on the path mentioned that we should give Chuy a bath afterwards because we could get poison oak by touching him. We didn’t touch him for the rest of the day after that, but didn’t give him a bath either, but we were fine the next day. Besides, I really hate giving Chuy a bath on rainy days – the cleanliness would last until Chuy decides to go outside. After that he becomes a dirty smelly dog all over again.

When it finally rained, we were already on our way out. We made it home exactly an hour after we left Santa Barbara and settled in for a nap afterwards. I couldn’t imagine a better Saturday – a little bit of sightseeing, hanging out with my two boys Rene and Chuy, and napping.

Skipping ahead

2008-02-22T12:17:00.000-08:00

For some odd reason, during the entire year that I was 28 years old, in my head I thought I was 29. Why did I skip a year ahead, you may ask – don’t people subtract years to their age, not add them?

It’s one of these things I do, this looking forward to the future all the time that had me caught up with being 29. I swear, when people asked me how old I was during 2007, I’d want to say 29, catch myself, and answer 28. I was living a year ahead of myself, and now that I am actually 29 I feel like I stayed the same age.

I think the anticipation of being 30, even though it was two whole years away, was getting to me. I was starting to question all the things I’ve done in my life and how insignificant they were to what other 28 year-olds were doing. There were some that owned their own business, were VPs of Fortune 500 companies, had given birth even – and I felt as if I hadn’t accomplished anything for the first 28 years of my life. It seemed like everyone had it together personally, professionally, financially, and here I was stuck in the same rut for the past two years. Of course I’ve done a couple of great things myself, but in my eyes none that could be considered a great accomplishment. Then I remembered that everyone has their own pace and their own rhythm in life, and comparing myself to other people could only make me depressed. Each person’s life experience is unique, and comparing my accomplishments to other people’s makes me lose sight of what’s good about my life. There are plenty of things to celebrate and be grateful for.

I spend so much time looking ahead to the next thing – my “planner” tendencies coming through – that I sometimes miss out on what’s going on right now, the present. I am guilty of living in the “what’s coming up” part of my life yet never relish the moment once I get there. Once I get there, the focus is on the next thing, the next big event, and all that energy spent getting to the first destination seem to go by the wayside.

So this is my resolution this year: living in the present.

Back to work

2008-02-20T11:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a rude awakening. Having just come back from a four-day weekend (I was lucky to get Friday, 2/15 off), and a three-day weekend before that, coming back to work felt like a drag. I know there are many projects that are coming my way that will keep me busy for the next month or so, but thankfully none of them were presented to me on my first day back. Today might be my “lucky” day.

I spent President’s Day in Pasadena, dining at my favorite restaurant in that area, Roscoe’s Chicken n’ Waffles. I cannot say enough how much I love dining there (see past post here), and Monday’s meal was no exception. I ordered my usual fare of fried chicken (drumstick and thighs) and two waffles. The chicken was fresh out of the fryer, hot and delicious as always. The waffles had just the right consistency, and coupled with a little bit of maple syrup was the greatest compliment to the chicken. For some reason the combo works, and I am a devotee. I always try to visit this place whenever I get a chance.

Rene and I have been interested in art lately and went to visit the Norton Simon museum after lunch. I’ve seen the façade many times while watching the Rose Parade on New Years’ Day and have always wanted to go. Also, my college Business Law professor was mildly obsessed with Norton Simon and always used him as an example in our discussions, mostly about stolen property and rewards. I have no idea how either apply to Norton Simon’s life.

The first thing we noticed upon entering is the amount of people that work for the museum. There seemed to be a person in a jacket and tie everywhere you looked, even at the parking lot directing traffic. It seemed like they were watching every move you made, so it made us leery of doing anything that might cause them to speak to us, like standing too close to a painting or talking too loud. In retrospect, they were probably bored and perhaps eager to tell us about the exhibits, which may account for why they were watching us so closely: they were probably looking for an opportunity to start a conversation. I might ask them a question the next time I visit.

The museum is not very big, and can easily be explored in under two hours. The wings are organized according to time period (13th – 16th century, 17th to 18th century, and 19th to 20th century) with the Southeast Asian Collection taking up the entire lower level. It’s amazing to me that an individual could own so much pricey art – the Picassos, Van Goughs, Rembrandts, and Degases alone are worth hundreds of millions of dollars. There were also works by other artists that weren’t as famous but I bet those pieces in total cost just as much. Rene enjoyed the modern and impressionist art, as well as still-life portraits of fruit, flowers, and vegetables. I enjoyed the impressionists and modern art also but wasn’t crazy about the still life paintings. I preferred the older works from the 17th and 18th century but didn’t see everything because a portion was closed off due to maintenance. We also liked the Southeast Asian art, in particular a colorful wood carving of the Hindu god Vishnu near the staircase (see picture above).

We also explored the museum garden that had heavy bronze and marble pieces from contemporary artists. This little garden is perfect for sunny LA days but it was overcast and cold yesterday, so we vowed to come back in the spring to visit again. It will be gorgeous then.

Valentine Post

2008-02-13T21:37:00.000-08:00

Remember that Simpsons episode when Lisa gave Ralph a card that read, “I choo-choo-choose you”? It’s actually an old valentine from the 1930s, and I found a picture of the card online last week. It reminded me of when I was in elementary school everyone in class gave Valentine’s Day cards and candies to celebrate. It was a big deal, at least to me, to pick out the right cards. They always came in boxes with a cartoon character theme: Disney (Mickey, Minnie, Donald, etc.), Garfield, Snoopy, Hello Kitty, or Strawberry Shortcake. And I always gave away the candy hearts that said “be mine” or “cutie” or “you’re sweet” or Hershey kisses.

I haven’t given out Valentine cards since junior high school, and by then I was more selective about who I gave them out to. Mostly, I gave them out to my friends. I was far too shy to talk to my junior high crushes, let alone give them a Valentine’s Day card. That would mean that I was interested in them, and my junior high school self would not be able to deal with it. I was afraid that actually talking to my crushes would leave me so tongue-tied and red in the face that I wouldn’t be able to say anything coherent. I was afraid that if they actually did talk to me they’d think I was an idiot, so I didn’t even risk the possibility of conversation.

I still think of myself as a shy person, but I try not to let it debilitate me like it did back in junior high. Now I try to find a common interest or point of view and start a conversation. I’ve found that breaking the ice is the hardest part, and it’s pretty easy from that point on. Even if the conversation doesn’t pan out or you just don’t gel with the person you wanted to get to know, it’s nice to know that at least you made the effort.

***

How do you feel about Valentine’s Day? Do you feel that it’s a special day, a celebration of love with your significant other that requires flowers, chocolates and dinner reservations? Or do you feel like it’s a made-up holiday used by retailers as a means to get you to spend money?

I’m in between. I do think that it’s important to celebrate your love but I don’t think you need flowers and chocolates and a fancy dinner to make your point. I also think it’s a personal occasion that should be celebrated throughout the year, not just during this holiday.

Resurrecting the Sandwich

2008-02-12T12:50:00.001-08:00

One of the best things about traveling is its after-effects. For some reason, visiting other places makes me appreciate my hometown of LA even more. After enduring record low temperatures and snow in Shanghai (the worst winter in a hundred years!), it was refreshing to see sunshine and have temps in the 70s.

Last Sunday, Rene and I drove to Malibu to take advantage of this wonderful weather. Not only was the weather nice, but the scenery was fabulous as well – lots of grass and wildflowers flourishing on the side of the road, trees and flowers blooming. You’d think it was already spring by looking at the flora. We decided to stop one of our fave places in Malibu, Malibu Seafood, to have some clam chowder and relax by the ocean. Unfortunately, when we got there the line was already out the door, and it looked like it would take at least 30 minutes just to order. Plus, we had Chuy with us and we didn’t want him trapped inside a hot car for an hour while we ate. Disappointed, we moved on and decided to get a snack at the grocery store down the road called Hows.

You know the saying, “when one door closes, another opens?” It certainly felt that way to us on Sunday, because Hows was offering its famous BBQ sandwiches for sale! For those of you that do not know about these sandwiches, here is our story: about two years ago, Rene and I visited this supermarket looking for something to eat after a long day at the beach. Lured by the smell of barbeque, we made our way to the outdoor patio and Rene placed an order for a tri-tip sandwich. I had already ordered a sandwich inside the store, so I sat down and ate my turkey on white while Rene placed his order. As he sat down I caught a whiff of his sandwich, which smelled and looked so good I had to try it. Biting into that sandwich was like a religious experience – it was the perfect combination of soft meat with savory sauce, placed inside a French roll. I wolfed half of that sandwich down then got up to get another. Again, a masterpiece! We were seriously hooked (but also seriously full), so we made a pact to visit the barbeque stand again the following weekend.

When we showed up the following weekend, there was no barbeque: no grill, no cash register, no condiment stand – just the usual tables and chairs. We thought that maybe that was the barbeque crew’s weekend off, so we came two weekends later, then the next weekend after that, but to no avail. The mysterious barbeque stand left as mysteriously as it came.

Until last Sunday, that is.

When I saw barbeque being grilled in the parking lot I was overjoyed with emotions. It was like having a dear friend come back to life! The joy! We promptly ordered two tri-tip sandwiches and took our time eating them. The flavors were just as I remembered: the same juicy sauce and tender meat, the soft French roll corralling the goodness. I savored every bite, knowing full well that I may not experience this moment for another two years. The feeling was sublime.

After our beautiful lunch, we soldiered on to Charmlee Wilderness Park, located about 10 minutes from Pacific Coast Highway. Charmlee is basically a picnic area with great trails, and we took Chuy out there for his daily walk. The best thing about Charmlee is the spectacular view of Malibu and Point Dume, both of which can be seen while walking along the trail. We stopped at several points to take pictures then walked back to our car after a brief rest.

On days like these you fall in love with California all over again.

More pictures here.

Relax, take it easy

2008-02-10T22:46:00.000-08:00

Have you ever heard a song so often while visiting a place or during a certain time in your life that whenever you hear it now you are instantly reminded of that place or time?

It happens to me all the time. In fact, it is happening to me right now. I am listening to Relax by Mika and I am instantly transported to last year’s summer vacation in Rome. This song, along with Cupid’s Chokehold by Gym Class Heroes and Hump Da Bump by the Red Hot Chili Peppers were in heavy rotation on MTV and on the radio in Italy. What a glorious time it was to be in Rome during the summer time, touring the ancient sights during the day and eating gelato on lazy afternoons. I had such a good time in Italy and listening to these songs takes me back to that pleasant and relaxed time.

I also remember listening to Big Pimpin’ by Jay-Z a lot during the summer of 2001. This was right after I graduated college and was about to start my new job; I had just gotten a new car (my first big purchase) and was feeling good about having air conditioning and automatic windows for the first time. My previous cars had manual transmission, no air conditioning (quite a bummer when living in LA), and windows that you rolled down. That song reminds me of a time when I was looking forward to starting my career. It felt so good having something nice be yours, and this song was my soundtrack.

We all have a soundtrack to our lives, and until recently it didn’t occur to me how music shapes my life. A child of the “easy listening” era of the late 70s and 80s, my mom used to turn the radio on as I was falling asleep to get me used to noise. She didn’t want me to wake up to the slightest sound. Now I can sing the first lines or the chorus to any song by the Bee Gees, ABBA, the Carpenters, Neil Diamond, Lionel Ritchie, Barry Manilow, Air Supply, or any artist from that era. Sometimes it’s pretty scary how well I know these songs.

Now I am listening to lots of different artists that are not very mainstream. I’m loving Paper Planes by M.I.A., Paint by Numbers by the The Sounds, and D.A.N.C.E. by Justice. Maybe in a few months I’ll figure out what these songs signify about this time in my life.

Forget about walking in LA… the parking is even worse!

2008-02-07T10:41:00.000-08:00

Most days, I love LA. I really, really heart this city and all of the wonderful things it offers: the good weather, constant sunshine, the multitude of places to visit (everything from museums to parks to beaches to shopping malls) – there’s a little bit of LA for everyone to enjoy. You just have to make sure you can find a parking space!

Last night I stopped by a little restaurant on my way to my book club meeting and found no parking spots nearby. I went around the block, across the street, down a block across the street – nothing. I found no parking spots. I was only going to visit the restaurants for a mere five minutes (since I’ve already placed my order and only had to pick it up), so I thought I’d park in the resident permit area just a skip away from the restaurant. After all, it’s only five minutes, and what meter maid is going to go after me for five minutes?

I was in the restaurant for no longer than five minutes, and as soon as I stepped out I saw a meter maid writing me a parking ticket. A parking ticket! For five friggin’ minutes! Are you kidding me?!! Apparently the meter maids in LA take their job very seriously.

I was fuming and ready to unleash a string of expletives on the guy writing me a ticket for five minute parking – which, at $45 cost me $9 per minute. But really, it was my fault for parking there, and why fume at the guy who was just doing his job? So I kept quiet and waited for the stupid ticket to print out. I really hate the parking situation in LA, especially that neighborhood of West Hollywood. All the meters are always taken, and if you are near homes or apartments they usually require a permit to park in the street. Don’t get me wrong, I understand where the residents are coming from; I wouldn’t want random people parking on my street either. But getting a ticket after five minutes? Come on! At least have the decency to grant a five-minute grace period.

Superfat Tuesday

2008-02-06T10:01:00.000-08:00

Last night, after a long day at work and a visit to the dentist, I parked outside a nondescript church and got in line to vote. It was cold that night, and I was behind a number of people waiting to do the same thing. It was nice to see so many people out at 6:30 pm waiting to cast their ballot when they could be doing so many other things: having dinner, relaxing after work, bonding with their children, or getting much-needed rest. Instead, they were lined up with me because they thought their votes mattered. Just thinking about it made my eyes misty.

This feeling of pride in my fellow Americans was soon diminished by the ignorant old couple behind me. I kept hearing the old lady make references to "making sure the illegals don't vote" and "turning the illegals away," which was so damn offensive. I don't know how in this day and age, in Los Angeles for god's sake, that this kind of talk is considered acceptable to utter in public. I turned around once to give them the stink eye and let them know that kind of talk was not okay. I don't know why illegals would want to vote - if anything, their biggest fear is having their status discovered - and voting would be one of the ways that could happen. I think this big concern about "illegals" voting is thinly veiled prejudice against minorities at the polling place exercising their right as citizens to vote. Being a minority, I might have been an "illegal" to them. This is why it is so important to vote - so that people like this don't win!! I'd never been so determined to vote as last night.

Despite all the hype leading up to Super Tuesday, where primaries took place in over two dozen states, the Democrats have not yet crowned a winner. It takes roughly 2,000 delegates to win the Democratic Party nomination, and right now it's a tight race, with Hillary and Barrack running neck and neck. At least no one lost, and it looks like it's going to be a fight to the finish.

Surprisingly, I am not terribly disappointed by this news. To me, it's been an exciting primary race that encouraged many voters to come out and support their candidate on Tuesday. It seemed like every vote counted, especially in states like Missouri where Obama edged out Hillary by one percent. I hope that this election year mobilizes many more voters, particularly those in my generation, to speak out and vote for their candidate. There was a record turnout in California last night, and to me this is the best part about Super Tuesday.

I also hope that this drawn-out contest between Hillary and Barrack is a fair contest that does not tear the Democratic Party in half. It'd be a shame to have that happen after all their hard work. The worst thing that can happen is for ignorant people like the couple standing behind me last night to have their party and their agenda win. Obviously, that kind of talk is never tolerated by Democrats.

*****

Did you also know that yesterday was Fat Tuesday, the final day of Carnival, and that means that today is the first day of Lent. Fat Tuesday is the last day to party it up before the somber Lent season begins. Anyway, I hope y'all had a great Fat Tuesday and that you have figured out what you are giving up for Lent.

Happy Chinese New Year!

2008-02-05T10:38:00.000-08:00

After fighting the worst weather in China for the last hundred years (and all the travel woes that came with it), I am finally home! I am finally back to gloriously sunny Southern California, and she has never looked better. I, on the other hand, looked a little worse for wear on Saturday. I looked tired, jet-lagged, and my clothes were out of place. While everyone else at LAX was wearing California-appropriate winter clothing (read: flip flops), I was wearing jeans tucked into black suede boots, a gray cashmere hoodie, and a pink snow jacket. In my defense, it was really cold on the flight from Shanghai to San Francisco, and I held on to that down jacket for dear life. It became a big chore carrying it around once I got to San Francisco where the temperature was a balmy 70 degrees at the airport terminal. There isn’t such a notion in Shanghai, and most people have to wear their thick jackets inside the airport where the temperature is not controlled. I only shudder to think what the conditions were like in the Guangzhou train station, where over half a million travelers were stuck for days waiting for trains to take them home for Chinese New Year.

In case you have not heard, today is the Chinese New Year and it is the year of the Rat. Xin Nein Kuai Le! (Happy New Year in Mandarin) You are a Rat if you were born 1948, 1960, 1972, 1984, and 1996. According to Wikipedia.org, attributes of this Chinese zodiac sign are:

Being the first sign of the Chinese zodiacs, rats are leaders, pioneers and conquerors. They are charming, passionate, charismatic, practical and hardworking. Rat people are endowed with great leadership skills and are the most highly organized, meticulous, and systematic of the twelve signs. Intelligent and cunning at the same time, rats are highly ambitious and strong-willed people who are keen and unapologetic promoters of their own agendas, which often include money and power. They are energetic and versatile and can usually find their way around obstacles, and adapt to various environments easily. A rat's natural charm and sharp demeanor make it an appealing friend for almost anyone, but rats are usually highly exclusive and selective when choosing friends and so often have only a few very close friends whom they trust.

Behind the smiles and charm, rats can be terribly obstinate and controlling, insisting on having things their way no matter what the cost. These people tend to have immense control of their emotions, which they may use as a tool to manipulate and exploit others, both emotionally and mentally. Rats are masters of mind games and can be very dangerous, calculative and downright cruel if the need arises. Quick-tempered and aggressive, they will not think twice about exacting revenge on those that hurt them in any way. Rats need to learn to relax sometimes, as they can be quite obsessed with detail, intolerant and strict, demanding order, obedience, and perfection.

Rats consider others before themselves, at least sometimes, and avoid forcing their ideas onto others. Rats are fair in their dealings and expect the same from others in return, and can be deeply affronted if they feel they have been deceived or that their trust has been abused. Sometimes they set their targets too high, whether in relation to their friends or in their career. But as the years pass, they will become more idealistic and tolerant. If they can develop their sense of self and realize it leaves room for others in their life as well, Rats can find true happiness.

According to tradition, Rats often carry heavy karma and at some point in life may face an identity crisis or some kind of feeling of guilt. Rats are said to often have to work very long and hard for everything they may earn or have in life. However, a Rat born during the day is said to have things a bit easier than those who are born at night. Traditionally, Rats born during the night may face extreme hardships and suffering throughout life. Rats in general should guard themselves against hedonism, as it may lead to self-destruction. Gambling, alcohol and drugs tend to be great temptations to Rat natives.

Traditionally, Rats should avoid Horses but they can usually find their best friends and love interests in Monkeys, Dragons, and Oxen.

Professions include espionage (oooh, a spy!), psychiatry, psychology, writing, politics, law, engineering, accounting, detective work, acting, and pathology.

Happy Chinese New Year to all Rats out there! May you be prosperous in the coming year!

China, it's been nice snowing you

2008-02-01T01:27:00.000-08:00

You've probably heard by now that China is experiencing some bad weather. Unfortunately for me, I've gotten the brunt of this during my visit to Shanghai in January. It's rained or snowed every weekend I was there, but I have no hard feelings. I saw beautiful white rooftops covered with snow in Shanghai, and from what I hear, that's a pretty rare occurence. It was nice to experience weather so unlike Southern California for a few days so that when I did finally come home the sunshine was a welcome change. (Shanghai temperatures were mostly in the 30s with a wind chill factor.)

Shanghai, it was nice visiting you during the winter time, but I hope that the next time we meet the sun is out and shining over everything.

A sign of maturity?

2008-01-31T19:58:00.000-08:00

Two days ago, I accidentally stumbled into a big sale at Jcrew.com. How big? Well, there was an additional 30% markdown on sale items, and to give you an idea on how huge that is, a cashmere cardigan I have been eyeing that originally cost $175 was on sale for $69. A cashmere cardigan made in Italian mills – that, my friends, is a steal. Being 16 hours ahead of everyone in the West Coast (13 hours for those preppy peeps in the East Coast), I must’ve visited the site just as the sale BEGAN… practically every color was available in my size, including a cobalt one that would go wonderfully with many outfits.

So what happened? Am I now the proud new owner of a cashmere cardigan in cobalt?

Sadly, no.

I hemmed and hawed about NEEDING adding another cashmere piece to my wardrobe. Who NEEDS a cashmere cardigan? Sure, they’re soft and keep you warm, but it’s hard to argue that they are a necessity - especially if you live in LA where winter temperatures barely dip below 50 degrees farenheit. Exercising my newfound restraint, I held off and decided not to buy it. I already have so many clothes, I reasoned, and I already have a cashmere cardigan purchased from J. Crew two years ago (which I love!). Besides, it’s not like this is J. Crew’s last sale EVER – if it’s meant to be, another one will be one sale when the time is right (i.e. I have more money to spend). With that thought, a little voice in my head saying, “ooooh but it is such a good deal! And cashmere!” was silenced and I went about the rest of my day here in China, working away, making sure I met with everyone before I left on Saturday.

Around lunchtime the following day, the volume of the little voice in my head (now whiny and pitching a fit) increased, and before long I was visiting Jcrew.com again to see if the cardigan was still there. It was not. It was probably one of the first colors to go, and another dress I had my eye on was gone as well. So much for sneaking in a J. Crew purchase while overseas!

In a way, I am relieved that those items were sold out before I had a chance to order them. I’ve had a bit of an impulse control problem the past two years, and holding off on purchasing things that I clearly do not need (but were priced so low!) was good for me. I am very proud that I am still here, cardigan-less, but more importantly, I have more money in my pocket by not making the purchase.

Wanderlust

2008-01-29T20:12:00.000-08:00

Last night I watched The Amazing Race Asia in my room. I’ve always had this fantasy of competing in The Amazing Race, and until recently, only US citizens could compete on the show. It was nice to see people from other countries competing in the program because I know how popular it is worldwide.

If you who haven’t watched the show it or ever heard of it, it’s a reality show that features a race around the world. It’s like a really long scavenger hunt that takes place in several countries, and the last one to arrive in each leg is eliminated.

I’m not usually a fan of reality programming but this show has always appealed to me because I love traveling, and this program shows off so many exotic locations and cultures around the world. It makes you want to get out there and visit all these countries! Unlike other shows like Survivor where people build alliances and plot/connive to secure their place in the next round, winning The Amazing Race depends on teamwork and a little bit of luck. It’s not to say that some TAR contestants have not built alliances with other teams in the past, but the true winners are the ones who make it through the race on their own terms.

I’d thought about becoming a race participant a few years ago, and for various reasons I never made it past the point of actually auditioning for the race. I think Rene and I would make a great team – he’d be really great with the navigation and physical aspect of the race while I’d be the one trying to figure out the clues and figuring out the best way to get to the next place. Plus, I can drive a car with manual transmission, which is a plus in countries where automatic is not an option.

So last night I caught an episode midway through the season and there are only five teams remaining in the competition (originally 10). For this leg of the race, they started in Prague and made their way to Budapest where they visited a farm, went canopy flying, and looked for a historical fountain featured on the 1,000 Forint bill. While I was excited to see TAR again after two or three years, and while watching the show last night it dawned on me that TAR might not be very fun at all. Sure, contestants get to visit lots countries during the race and meet people, but it saddened me to see that it was on a superficial level and not the in-depth and leisurely visit I prefer. The contestants spent a day in Budapest chasing clues and running from one place to another, and by the end of the day I don’t think they realized what Budapest is about. Having visited the place back in the spring of 2007, I had memories of visiting Castle Hill, taking leisurely walks, and dining out with friends. I felt bad that instead of admiring the scenery and exploring the city they were stressed out and concerned about not being eliminated during that round. To me, the best traveling experiences come when you least expect them. Sometimes it sneaks up on you when you are sitting in a piazza in Italy enjoying a gelato or when you are riding a bike in the rain in Amsterdam. It reinforces my belief that the world is full of wonderful places to experience, and you should fit in as many of these experiences as you can during your lifetime. Do I sound like a travel commercial yet?

I’m not saying that everyone should quit their jobs and purchase a ticket around the world but if the opportunity presents itself it should be taken. To me, this means visiting far-off locales you’ve always wanted to visit like Prague (where the above picture was taken) as well as local places in Southern California like the San Gabriel Mission. Traveling is a state of mind, I guess, and it doesn’t matter where you go but how you get there that truly counts.

When Starbucks really matters

2008-01-28T02:45:00.000-08:00

On Sunday afternoon, I decided to take a stroll out in the cold rain-slash-snow and visit the Yuyuan Gardens. They have a pavillion in the middle of the gardens that serves tea, so I thought I'd combine my adventurous spirit with a hot cup of tea and take in the view.

That would've been a great way to spend the afternoon, and of course that's NOT the way it happened yesterday. Instead, I got confused between Yuyan Garden and Yuyuan Temple, also known as the city god's temple. I don't know how I would confuse GARDEN with TEMPLE but the name was the same so I didn't think about it. After following the Lonely Planet map and getting a little bit lost along the way to the TEMPLE (I only realize this afterwards), I found myself at a place like home - Starbucks. Yep, apparently Starbucks is more than just coffee around here - it's also a great place to meet other people who speak English and to get directions. Turns out that the temple was right in front of the Starbucks - a huge building that blended with the other ones, in the traditional Chinese architectural style. The only thing that distinguished it from the other buildings were the red walls, and it was easy to find my way to the entrance.

So, do you know what they do at the temple? Pray to the gods and ancestors. And not much else. Man, I stuck out like a sore thumb - a tourist with a little camera taking pictures. Everyone else was burning these large sticks of wood and bowing down to the temples. I was tempted to buy a stick just so I would look like I knew what I was doing, but with my luck I'd probably set myself on fire and make a big fool out of myself. I entered one of the minor temples and took a few shots but I was too intimidated to go into the big temple. It had a huge statue there, and because I didn't want to be disrespectul by taking pictures inside, I stayed out and peered in. Which probably made me look even more strange, but whatever.

I decided to call it a day and walk back to my hotel after twenty minutes. On the way back I passed several shops selling decorations for Chinese New Year. Most of the buildings out here are decorated with something red and festive, and it was nice to see entire stores decked out red. It's like Christmas all over again for me.

Anyway, I didn't do very much after my little sojourn to the temple. The rest of the day was spent defrosting and getting ready for my last week here in China.

More pictures here.

Hangzhou on my mind

2008-01-28T02:22:00.000-08:00

It’s rained every weekend since I’ve been here in Shanghai – and it’s not the drizzle variety that you can survive without an umbrella. It’s either been pouring rain or snow. This weekend it was mostly snow, and since I am from a part of southern California where that never happens, it was a nice change from the rain. Hey, at least snow falls softly and makes everything look good.

This past Saturday a few guys from our Shanghai office were kind enough to drive us to Hangzhou (pronounced hang-joe) for the day. Hangzhou is about 115 miles out of the city, and was a formerly China’s capital back in the Song Dynasty (11oo's). According to Lonely Planet, Marco Polo visited this city 700 years ago and pronounced it to be “the finest, most splendid city in the world.”

Hangzhou’s claim to fame is its lake called West Lake. It is surrounded on three sides by hills with little islands that dot the lake. This would’ve been a great destination in the summer time, a great place to rent a bike and ride it around the lake. On the day we visited it was snowing in Hangzhou, and according to our tour guides from the office, this is the first time they’ve ever witnessed snow in this part of China.

It took us about three hours to get here from Shanghai because of the traffic – there was a lot of snow and ice on the road, making it hard to maneuver the roads. We arrived just in time for lunch at a lovely restaurant overlooking West Lake. As is the custom here in Shanghai, one person orders for the entire table lots of different dishes and everyone in the table gets to try all of them. We had tons to eat – bamboo soup, duck, beggar chicken, dried anchovies, shrimp with tea leaves, fried bean curd, steamed fish, and for dessert a sweet hot soup from made from fermented rice balls and sticky purple rice. All the dishes tasted great! To make up for all the food we ate, we took a leisurely stroll around part of West Lake and took some amazing pictures.

After finishing our walk, we headed to a traditional Chinese pharmacy, which was adjoined to the Medicine Museum in Hangzhou. The pharmacy was not unlike the ones we have in the US in terms of service provided but the medicines they gave out were made from plant extracts and crushed bone. Some ingredients were very commonplace like rose buds (I don’t know what it was used for though) and some were very exotic, like snow leopard bone or rhino horn. I didn’t see any of these exotic things on the counter but I imagine that these would be very expensive and hard to come by.

We entered the museum through the back of the pharmacy. The museum provided a brief history of Chinese medicine from its beginnings to today, but honestly I wasn’t paying much attention. I was too busy looking at all of the exotic animals they hunted (and maybe still do) for these medicines. They include tigers, rhinos, bears, leopards, and eagles. It was widely believed the ingesting bone or parts of these animals meant that you captured the essence of the animal, but being an animal lover I really don’t believe this to be the case. Still, it was interesting getting a glimpse of that world.

After the museum we made the long drive back to Shanghai, which also took three hours. By the time I got home I was exhausted and got into bed after a nice warm shower.

More pictures here.

Things to do on a rainy weekend

2008-01-27T18:36:00.000-08:00

It’s not all about work here in Shanghai. I do get plenty of opportunities to catch my breath and relax, and when that happens I don’t want to do anything. During my downtime I am usually slumped in my sofa here at the hotel, watching TV or reading books, or else catching up on precious sleep. What’s more, the internet connection is excruciatingly slow and posting pictures and blogging has become an exercise in patience. Two weeks late (but better late than never), here is a recap of what I did during my first weekend here in Shanghai.

Saturday
The rain ruined our plans to visit Hangzhou for the weekend, so my boss Claudia and I decided to visit the Shanghai Museum instead. We thought that perhaps the rain would die down, and learning about Chinese culture while waiting it out was a good plan.

The museum was organized according to art materials: ceramics, bronze, jade, textiles, furniture, etc. There were some very lovely things on exhibit in the museum but one couldn’t help wondering why a country with such a rich and varied history as China wouldn’t have more art to showcase. Someone at the office explained that a lot of art was destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, and some were smuggled out of the country. It’s a shame really, because a lot could be learned by future generations from beautiful Chinese artistry. After approximately three hours in the museum (with a tea break after an hour and a half of walking around with an audio guide glued to our ears), we decided to call it a day. That’s when Prime Minister Gordon Brown walked into the museum, with about 100 people trailing him and crowding the escalators. We watched him ascend all the way up to the fourth floor before heading outside, and once there we were stopped by security and told to wait in the rain until he left. Apparently it was a big security concern to walk to the other side of the street despite fact that Mr. Brown was still in the museum. I don’t understand how that impacts his safety, but whatever – I did what I was told.

After visiting the museum, we visited the shopping center next door called the D Hong Kong mall. The mall is located inside an old bomb shelter, built in the days of the Cold War, and you could tell that it was indeed a bomb shelter by the low ceilings and poor lighting. The shopping wasn’t great but the location was worth a visit. The place was quite big, and you couldn’t help but wonder how many people they planned to stick in there when it was built.

Pictures are here.

Sunday
Again, it was raining. Claudia, having had enough after walking home the night before (there were no taxis so we had to walk back to our hotel room), decided that she was going to stay in and rest during the day. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea spending a day at the hotel so I decided to take a walking tour of the Bund. The Bund is the business area here in Shanghai situated on the banks of the Hangpu River. There’s a nice promenade that stretches that showcases the buildings and history of Shanghai. I made the most of it by passing some landmarks and taking pictures of Pudong (still a part of Shanghai) across the river. I came home shortly thereafter and drank plenty of hot tea to warm me up again. I wouldn’t normally insist on talking a walking tour of anything during the rain, but there were other people there as well taking in the sights despite the horrible weather.

Pictures are here.

Grateful for the Little Things

2008-01-24T00:51:00.000-08:00

I typically work harder when I’m working internationally. It’s not that the work itself is harder; it’s that there is more to do in a small amount of time. Long work days are the rule and not the exception.

That being said, traveling to a foreign country also has its perks. The one perk I am enjoying during my stay here is my junior suite at the Westin. I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but I'd like to share my favorite things about my room:

This is called a rainforest shower head. When standing under it, it feels like taking a warm shower from a waterfall (apparently that is how people living in the rainforest take showers). Not a second is spent waiting for the warm water to envelop your body, and it is especially relaxing when taking a shower at night.

This bathtub is huge. Plus there’s ample room on the side to hold books and magazines while enjoying a soak in the tub.

Every pillow has a different consistency – some are firm, some are soft, and some are stuffed with feathers. I like the ones stuffed with feathers. The hotel also has a turn-down service where they close the curtains and pull down the bedding corner for you, like shown above. The only thing missing is the chocolate.

This is a magical device. It turns the lights in the living room, bathroom, and bedroom on and off and is conveniently placed on the nightstand. It’s especially helpful when you are suffering from jet lag and are desperate for sleep.

Room service - need I say more? Tonight I had seafood yellow curry with oatmeal cookies and warm milk for dinner. I think I've gained at least five pounds during this trip!

Even though I work some crazy hours, it’s nice to know that at the end of the day I come home to these things. It tempers the sting of hard days and makes the end of the day so much more rewarding.

Shanghai Observations

2008-01-24T00:23:00.000-08:00

I don’t see many children here in Shanghai. The kids are either in school or at home during the day so I don’t come in contact with them. Since I’ve arrived I’ve seen only a handful of kids with their parents.

I have only seen three dogs since arriving the Sunday before last. Someone in the office explained that most people here live in high-rise apartments so it’s hard to have a pet dog, especially the larger breeds. This morning I saw a German shepherd being walked near my hotel.

When I first arrived in Shanghai I was surprised by how many signs are were translated into English, and how many people here at the office speak English. I shouldn’t have been fooled: not many people outside the office speak English, and it is hard to get around without a business card or the address in Chinese.

Most people my age don’t have any brothers or sisters because of China’s one-child policy. The bulk of their childhood is spent studying and preparing for exams, and some of them never had pets growing up. How lonely that must feel.

Dear Prime Minister

2008-01-20T00:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Gordon Brown,

Please stop stalking me. It’s becoming embarrassing for both me and your entourage here in Shanghai.

First, you check into my hotel, which was fine at first. After all, it is a very nice hotel, and there are lots of English people staying here. I’ve even brushed past them on the breakfast buffet line trying to decide between bacon or sausages (or both), whether to try dragon fruit or stick to watermelon, and some adventurous souls having the Chinese breakfast. I didn’t even mind when the security staff at the hotel installed the metal detectors and x-ray screening machine on Friday night, when I had to wait in line for five minutes while fellow guests ahead of me where searched and patted down. Those machines are becoming commonplace now, and having experienced it just a week ago at the airport, it was no big deal. I also didn’t mind having to walk all the way to the back of the hotel to flag down a taxi the next day.

Now what I’m finding questionable is your appearance at the Shanghai Museum on Saturday, which happened to be the same time I visited. I saw you use the escalator to go all the way up to the fourth floor, and I must say that was a nice lavender tie (but you should’ve worn a red one, because this is China after all, and red is a very popular color). You might have seen me from the lobby as you were going up, or perhaps by the make-shift parking lot you and your entourage set up by the museum entrance. Thanks to you I had to wait ten minutes to get to the other side of the street, being told very curtly by the Shanghai police to stay behind the barrier. Thanks for making me stand out in the rain, Gordon. I like getting my pants soaked from rain blowing sideways.

I don’t understand the fascination with me, and frankly you’re not my type, but could we make sure to avoid future contact whilst here in Shanghai? I am planning to go to dinner here at the hotel, so please make other arrangements. It would just be weird and creepy to see you again. Don’t make me call security.

All the best,

Abby

Sticker Shock

2008-01-17T23:41:00.000-08:00

Last night one of the Directors here at the Shanghai office took us out for dinner. We went to a Cantonese restaurant near the office, located on the top floor of a nice shopping mall. We had to go up eight levels of stores before we reached the restaurant. Thank goodness for elevators – if we took an escalator and saw every floor we might’ve never gotten to dinner.

While waiting for the elevator I spied some lovely boots at a nearby store. I didn’t bring any winter footwear, and right now my warmest pair of shoes are my New Balance sneakers (I should’ve brought my flat brown boots!). I made a mental note to pass by the store on our way out, just to see if I could get something cheap to tide me over for the trip.

After a lovely dinner that included traditionally prepared Cantonese shrimp, pork, and duck (which was delicious), we made our way out of the restaurant and stopped by the store downstairs. After looking at several shoes on the floor, I pick up a boot that was simple in design and looked sturdy. After asking the saleslady for the price, I learned that anything resembling a name brand costs an arm and a leg here in China. The pair of black Clarks boots with a wedge heel and rubble sole costs 1580 RMB, or $205. $205! And that’s including the 20% discount! For $200 I better see a nicer name on the label like Coach, Charles David, or Cole Haan. Clarks? Are you kidding me? Clarks sounds like Charles David’s hick cousin.

What’s even more perplexing to me is that most of these boots are probably made in China, and you would think that because you are in China you’d be cutting out the middleman and paying a reasonable amount for these boots. But no – the price is even higher than the US. I would gladly pay $20 for a pair of decent-looking boots here but $200 is price gouging. And they weren’t even that cute!

Lookin' for Love in Shanghai

2008-01-17T07:08:00.000-08:00

Shanghai is everything I thought it would be and nothing what I thought it would be. If that statement made you say “huh?!” please allow me to explain.

Shanghai is full of contradictions, and everyday I learn something new about the city, the culture, and the people. Apparently Shanghai is very different from the rest of China – it’s cosmopolitan and modern, which is reflected not only the city’s high-rise buildings but in its attitude as well. I’ve been told that most of China is very rural and simple, and finding someone who speaks English is highly unlikely (but not impossible).

I’ve been visiting warehouses and distribution facilities located an hour out of the city for the past three days (hence the lack of posts), and it is during these excursions that I’ve learned the most about Shanghainese culture. I met a girl named Jessica who had the task of translating my conversations with the warehouse staff. The warehouse staff had lunch brought in for us during both days, and while we ate lunch we had some time to chat about cultural differences between the US and China. Did I mention we ate KFC on Wednesday and Pizza Hut on Thursday? If the Chinese keep eating like this they might beat us as the fattest nation on earth soon.

I learned from Jessica that Shanghainese women are determined to make good use of their education and excel in their career but also have a strong desire to find a suitable husband. For Shanghainese women in particular, it is hard to find a husband who is as successful in their career and have the same family and educational background as the women. It’s very important to have an equal partnership so that family, education, career, and salary are carefully matched for an ideal marriage. For Jessica, good men are hard to find, especially with such vivacious females here in Shanghai.

I asked Jessica how one would find a husband, and she said that the most common method was to have blind dates set up by the man and woman’s parents. The parents would meet and discuss their offspring: where they graduated, their salaries, their interests, their goals, etc. If they found a good match, two would meet at a local tea house and get to know one another. If the date went well, they’d see each other again; if not, it was up to the parents to set up another blind date. To me, this sounds like an episode of the show Parental Control in MTV without the sound bites. Anyway, Jessica just had a blind date recently, and she said that it did not go well. Her date was too quiet for her and she wanted to find someone who could equal her conversation skills (which is a tall order because this girl talks A LOT). Jessica’s goal this year is to find a husband, and since she was born in the year of the Rat (which is the animal for this year’s Chinese New Year) she might get lucky this year.

Jessica also told me that ladies here in Shanghai love Starbucks coffee, Haagen-Dazs ice cream, and Louis Vuitton purses. She said that if men want to cheer up their girlfriends or wives, they take them to Haagen-Dazs for an ice cream treat. She also said that an appropriate gift for a 30-year wedding anniversary was a Louis Vuitton bag – sure, you can tell your wife that you love her, but giving her a Louis Vuitton bag proves it. I cannot make this up!

Louis Vuitton must be dancing in his grave.

Welcome to China

2008-01-14T13:43:00.000-08:00

Flying to Shanghai
The flight to Shanghai went well. There was a little bit of turbulence on the way over but nothing crazy, just a few bumps here and there. Of course, I didn’t sleep on the plane until the last three hours before landing, which is an awful time to want to sleep because of everything happening around you. This is when the last meal is served and everyone is waking up and going to the bathroom, or organizing their stuff, or starting to get chatty with their neighbors. The passengers behind me were very chatty, and despite using the airline-supplied ear plugs and attempts to cover my ears with the tiny pillow, it was impossible for me to sleep.

Arrival
The arrival process at the airport was a breeze – my boss Claudia and I went through immigration, collected baggage, changed cash, and passed through customs in about 30 minutes. The efficiency surprised me, considering there were so many passengers on my flight. We had a driver meet us at the airport and we got to our hotel about an hour. It was raining the night we arrived in Shanghai, which was Sunday, and there wasn’t a lot of traffic on the roads.

Hotel
The Westin Bund Hotel was very nice, with a newly renovated tower and front entrance. Since I was going to be in town for the next three weeks, I was upgraded me to a junior suite, and now I have a living room-slash-office to call my own. The room also came with a master bath the size of my living room at home, which had two entrances like Carrie Bradshaw’s bathroom in Sex & the City: one right by the door as you enter the room, and one by the bedroom area. It’s a good idea, really, because after a long day at work the first place you want to visit is the bathroom before you crash into bed.

16 Hours Ahead
It’s been tough transitioning to the time difference, which is 16 hours ahead of my usual time. Right now it’s 5:38 am on Tuesday but I’m wide awake. I’ll probably crash a little bit around 4 pm, and recover in time for dinner. It’ll be like this for the first few days, and by next week I should be fully acclimated to the time here in China.

There will be more posts to come, hopefully more interesting than this one. My first day of work was tough, and the next few days will be no different. And the internet connection here at the hotel? It's really slow. It takes 10x as long to surf the net, never mind posting pictures at this blog. Click on the Flickr link above to see my first pictures of Shanghai.

Getting It Done

2008-01-09T16:09:00.001-08:00

One of the things that make it hard for me to appreciate my upcoming trip to China is the amount of work that needs to be done before I leave.

I have to configure my new laptop here from work to make sure that it works and that all of the files I’ll need have been saved into said laptop. I also have to make sure that the laptop is configured for the internet; otherwise I am SOL when it comes to e-mail and access to the shared drive here at work.

I have to make sure that I have completed the planning phase by the end of the week. The planning phase is a really involved process, but since I’ve never visited this location I am making a few assumptions so that planning is done – which is to say, I am grasping at straws. I’m starting to get back into it today, but it’s already 3:51 pm and I need it by Friday afternoon.

I have to start making lists of all the things I need to pack, namely books to read, travel guides, work outfits, casual outfits, accessories, toiletries, entertainment (besides the books, i.e. DVD), and most important of all, travel adapters. You’d think that I’d have mastered this part of the trip by now but it’s always a race to the finish.

The only things keeping me sane are the Hello Kitty post-its. Who isn’t cheered up by that pink bow and cute face?

On to work…

Of Cake and Molars

2008-01-08T14:23:00.000-08:00

I am two days away from my two dental appointments: one with my orthodontist to change my wires and bands (courtesy of Braces Part II), and one with my new dentist for a cleaning. Given all the sweets I have been eating during the holidays - hey, who am I kidding - all of 2007, I may have a few cavities that need to be filled.

I've been to the dentist enough times during my lifetime - at least once a year for annual checkups and Braces Part I - that I don't even fear the dentist anymore. My most painful dental appointment was back when I was 16 and had 13 cavities. I got seven cavities taken care of during that visit (sans novacane) and came back for the remaining six the following week (again, no pain medication). At this point the pain is more uncomfortable rather than painful. I feel like I have an out-of-body experience when getting work done on my teeth: I just relax and think about something else. The work is usually done before I know it.

I was reminded of the dentist today because it was someone's birthday today at the office. As is our custom here, the whole department takes a break in the afternoon to sing Happy Birthday and eat cake. Today it was a fruit pie from Porto's Bakery here in Burbank, and last time it was chocolate cake. This is in addition to the donuts and pastries brought in for the birthday girl this morning. I may need to start buying new pants due to weight gain.

I think it's really sweet that people celebrate birthdays here and pass cards around for everyone to sign. I know it felt nice to have cake and a card on my birthday, and it made the day really special. I don't know if I can say the same about visiting two dentists on Thursday.

Swishing Around

2008-01-06T19:44:00.000-08:00

I realized last Thursday that this past weekend was my last here in LA before I took off for Shanghai, China next Saturday night. It's a work trip, which means a business class flight with almost 180-degree reclining seats, offers of champagne before takeoff, great hotel, and generous meal allowance. It also means hard work and long hours, so I guess it all balances out.

Rene and I spent Saturday afternoon visiting the Tadashi Murakami exhibit at the MOCA David Geffen Contemporary our friends Erin and Jeff. I've been wanting to check out this exhibit since last year, when it was mentioned in an issue of Dwell magazine. Murakami popped into my radar a few years ago when he collaborated with Louis Vuitton for a series of limited edition handbags, which are probably worth more now than when they were first sold. For you designer bag fiends out there, these LV bags are featured in the exhibit and you will have a chance to purchase a limited edition Murakami bag for the low, bargain-basement price of $875.

I liked the exhibit - to me, it was like seeing Hello Kitty characters on crack. The little creatures portrayed in his art were sinister versions of Hello Kitty, My Melody, and that penguin character (can't remember his name). I liked the composition of the work and the colors Murakami used throughout, so I'd highly recommend a visit if you are interested in contemporary art infused with Japanese Anime.

After the exhibit we visited a shabu shabu restaurant in Little Tokyo. Shabu shaub (which means "swish-swish" in Japanese) is a dish prepared by submerging a piece of thin meat into a boiling pot of water infused with sea kelp and other vegetables. The meat cooks very quickly and is dipped in sauce before eating. We had a blast:

Four orders of all-you-can-eat beef shabu shabu please

Ingredients for shabu shabu: thinly sliced meat (check), hot pot (check), four orders of Japanese beer (check) (just kidding). Off to the other side are the vegetables and the sauces.

Erin swishing a piece of meat in the hot pot. It cooks amazingly fast!

Rene and Erin

The restaurant gave free champagne to people who were celebrating their birthday (within 10 days of birthday with photo ID). Since Rene's birthday was on January 1, we got a free bottle of Andre champagne.

A picture of my plate after we quit eating so much meat! We averaged about two plates per person, but I think Jeff and I ate the most. I hung in there until the bitter end.

A Look Back at 2007

2008-01-02T10:30:00.000-08:00

This morning I came across this questionnaire and thought it would be a worthwhile exercise. I'm thinking of doing this every year from now on, and maybe you should too.

1. What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before?

Blogging! I've had the urge to blog since 2006 and have been lurking in several sites prior to starting my own back in July 2007. I have to say that starting a blog seemed complicated at first, but it turned out to be a piece of cake once I set up a Blogger account.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I didn’t make any resolutions for 2007 but I am definitely making some for 2008. I've already started jotting them down but need to flesh them out so that they are SMART: specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and timely. I've got this from HR presentations but it truly is the best way to set goals.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

My friend Molly gave birth to her beautiful daughter Madeline in September.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Thankfully no.

5. What countries did you visit?

This year I visited France, Germany, Czech Republic, Spain, Hungary, Denmark, and Italy. This reminds me that I still have to blog about most of these places I’ve visited.

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?

A work ethic – I seemed to have misplaced it and would like it back.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

June 15 to 28: Italian getaway with Rene
July 9: Started new job
November 20: Started the last year of my 20's

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Paying off 25% of my debt.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Getting into debt.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Real or imagined?

11. What was the best thing you bought?

A little gadget called the iPhone. It revolutionized my life.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

My husband Rene – for being so kind, patient, and understanding.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

My own.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Bills, bills, bills!

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

During the first half of the year, traveling to Europe for work. During the second half of the year, seeing my credit card balances go down.

16. What song will always remind you of 2007?

Relax by Mika

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:? a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?

Sadder, a little fatter, and definitely poorer - D’oh!

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Exercise

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Read gossip mags and gossip sites like Perez Hilton and Pink is the New Blog - these are major time suckers but oh so much fun to read!

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Christmas Eve with Rene's family and Christmas Day with my family, plus lunches and dinner with friends during the holidays.

21. Did you fall in love in 2007?

Yes - with my husband all over again.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

A tie between The Office and Lost.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Nope, I’m not a hater.

24. What was the best book you read?

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

My husband Rene is the musical explorer, and in my opinion his best finds this year were Yelle and Teddybears.

26. What did you want and get?

An iPhone - see #11 above.

27. What did you want and not get?

A DVD set of Felicity season 1 and a tube of Dior Show mascara.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

I watch a lot of movies, so here are my picks for the year:

Live Free or Die Hard
Waitress
Knocked Up
Rome season 1 (technically not a movie but worth a mention)

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I celebrated by 29th birthday with family and friends wishing me a happy birthday all day long, followed by a date with my husband in the evening. It's nice to have people remember you, even if it's just a greeting.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Having no debt

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?

Dressing in layers, and gaining the courage to wear flat shoes and skinny jeans.

32. What kept you sane?

Writing this blog and sharing experiences with other people via their blogs.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I don't know about "fancy" - Britney Spears held my attention for the entire year. Like most train wrecks, it's hard to watch her fall further from grace but you can't help but look because you want to know how it ends (if it ever ends).

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Immigration

35. Who did you miss?

My friend Erin who used to work in the same building but moved away to another office in December. The distance makes impromptu coffee breaks hard to come by.

36. Who was the best new person you met?

The collective Blogshere. There are too many awesome people out there to name.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.

There are two life lessons I learned this year:

Each person is responsible for their own happiness.

We should all strive to be financially independent so that we can pursue our dreams.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

I’m not afraid of anything in this world
There’s nothing you can throw at me that I haven’t already heard
I’m just trying to find a decent melody
A song that I can sing in my own company
I never thought you were a fool but darling look at you
You gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight
These tears are going nowhere baby

It’s just a moment, this time will pass

Stuck in A Moment by U2

Searching for the ONE

2008-01-01T22:07:00.000-08:00

I think I have a problem.

As I was organizing my makeup case I realized that I own 11 tubes of mascara. Count ‘em:

Maybelline Full N’ Soft

Lancome L’Extreme (trial size)

Origins Full Story

Origins Fringe Benefits

Lancome Hypnose

Origins Underwear for Lashes (lash primer)

Maybelline Great Lash Waterproof

Maybelline Great Lash (curved brush)

Lancome L’Extreme Waterproof

Maybelline Sky High Curves

Lancome Definicils Waterproof

So I’m a little obsessed with mascara. For the past few months I have been looking for “the one” – one that will stay on my lashes and not form rings around my eyes, one that doesn’t clump, one that keeps the curl in my lashes. It takes a lot of time to curl my short and straight lashes, and after that’s done it’s important that they stay looking that way until I decide to take my makeup off.

Up until a few months ago I was using Lancome’s Definicils Waterproof mascara, which I thought was “the one.” I read in a magazine article that waterproof mascara helps keep the lash shape after curling and it lasts for hours. Definicils Waterproof definitely lived up to its name, but the thing I couldn’t shake was the waterproof part, and after many months of dealing with eye makeup remover at night, I decided to start my search for another mascara.

So far the best of the lot seems to be Maybelline’s Sky High Lashes and Origins’ Full Story, but I don’t think these are the winners yet. I have yet to try Dior Show mascara, and for all I know that could be the ONE.

Saying Goodbye to 2007

2007-12-31T23:04:00.000-08:00

It seems like 2007 was ushered in just the other day - now it has to move over and allow 2008 into the room. For me, the last year has come by quickly, and just as I was getting used to writing “2007” I now have to remember to date everything with “2008.”

Right now it’s 11:31 pm, and in about 29 minutes all the countdown shows are going to be singing Auld Lang Syne (which literally means “old long since,” or “once upon a time”) at the stroke of midnight. The only lyric I remember is the first line, which goes:

Should old acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind

What does that mean anyway? Does it mean to say that we shouldn’t forget old acquaintances? Or does it mean to say that we should forget the old ones and look for new ones?

Today, in an effort NOT to forget my friends, I spent the day with two old friends Nikki and Rachel.

Rene and I had fun catching up with Nikki and playing the game Rock Band. Have you ever played this game? It is a lot of fun! For those who have never played, it’s a game where musical notes are shown on the screen and the players use a drum set to hit the notes on the screen. The player gets to pick the song they want to play, and at the end of the set they are given a grade, like 75%, for accuracy. Here's a picture of Rene rocking out and a screen shot of the game:

Nikki says that the game could also include a guitar (which she owns) and a singer, and we promised to come back for a Rock Band party and play with a full band. How awesome would that be?!

After pretending to be rock stars with Nikki, we visited Rachel at LACMA, where they were showing the Salvador Dali exhibit. Unfortunately, Rachel was working today and only had enough time for a late lunch and a belated gift exchange. She did, however, manage to get us passes to see the Dali exhibit for free (thanks Rachel!). If you haven't stopped by, you should come and see the Dali exhibit before it goes away on January 6.

Tickets for the exhibit assign times to when you can enter, so we had two hours to wander the museum before we could look at the exhibit. We spent the time exploring the museum grounds. There are a few outdoor art installations outside the museum that we explored, including this untitled cinder block work:

A is for Abby

Next to LACMA are the La Brea tar pits. It's amazing that tar has seeped up from the ground in the heart of LA for tens of thousands of years, forming hundreds of sticky pools that trapped animals and plants that happened to enter. The biggest pit has a statue of a family of mammoth elephants with the mommy elephant getting trapped in the tar. The pit is still active and bubbles up so that methane gas is released into the air. It's a pretty cool place to visit if you've never been.

After visiting the tar pits, Rene and I climbed to the second story of the George C. Page museum. Once there, you can view the tar pits and the museum complex, and look down at the Page museum below. The museum didn't have a ceiling but an interesting rooftop structure made of steel instead, giving it an open-air (and futuristic) feel.

We got to see the Dali exhibit at 5 pm (they assign viewing times due to the crowds), and the most famous piece on exhibit was The Persistence of Memory, which shows melting clocks in a severe landscape. I liked this piece because of its subconcious quality; I always feel like this image is something people see in their dreams. Rene and I learned that Dali worked on a lot of films (including a Disney cartoon called Destino, An Andalusian Dog and Spellbound) and incorporated images of bicycles, ants, eyeballs, pianos, and burning giraffes in a lot of his sketches and paintings. It was an interesting exhibit, a definite must-see before it travels to the Dali museum in Florida.

After catching up with friends and exploring LACMA, Rene and I called it a day and stayed in for the rest of the night. We rang in the new year in bed, in between watching movies and surfing the internet. 2007 has been a good year, and we hope 2008 will be even better.

How I Spent My Christmas Vacation, Part 3 of 3

2007-12-28T11:05:00.000-08:00

I always spend Christmas Day with my family. My family is quite large; between my parents, brother and sister, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, and nieces there are 20 of us. My family is quite close.

It’s nice having everyone get together during the holidays because it means catching up with my nearest and dearest and letting them know how much I love having them in my life. However, it does present a dilemma of sorts during Christmas Day when presents are handed out and opened. With so many people giving and receiving gifts, I find that it’s hard to do the following: present the gift, read the card, open the gift and thank the gift-giver for their present. What usually occurs is a frenzy of gifts being opened at the same time, followed by words of gratitude as the wrapping paper and boxes are being cleared. Sometimes I’d like to have everyone take turns opening their gifts – but if this actually happened I think we’d still be opening gifts three hours later. Given everyone’s plans for Christmas Day (some see a movie in the afternoon and some take a nap to unwind later in the day), I can’t think of any other way to resolve this dilemma. Maybe I’ll find the solution next year.

Here are pictures of Christmas spent with my lovely family:

Lots of presents waiting under the tree

Posing for a picture (from L to R): Dad, Vieve, Sabrina, Gigi, and Jalen

Uncle Art and Aunt Bing with Sid

Samantha and Sid

Sabrina almost buried by gifts

My lovely cousins Gigi and Sharon

Rene showing off his Christmas gifts

My sister Vieve, me, Mom, and Dad posing in front of the tree

Sabrina, Samantha, and Mom with me in the background

Got tickets to the gun show? Me and my gun (er, Play-Doh under my sweater)

You can find more pictures here.

How I Spent My Christmas Vacation, Part 2 of 3

2007-12-28T10:56:00.000-08:00

Every year Rene and I spend Christmas in two places: Christmas Eve with Rene's family, and Christmas Day with mine. Luckily our families live nearby so there's no travel involved.

Christmas Eve with Rene's family is a low-key affair. We usually have dinner around 8 pm, then hang out/watch movies/play games until midnight, when the gifts are opened. At midnight, everyone's gifts are grouped by person, and we all take turns opening our gifts. Here are pictures of us opening gifts on Christmas Eve:

Rene showing off his present

Rene's first gift was a 10 million candlepower flashlight from his mom. This is Henry modeling it for us in the house...

... and this is Henry showing off the flashlight outside the house. It looks like we're trying to summon Batman on Christmas Eve.

My mother-in-law Juana opening her gift

Henry opening his gift from us, an iPhone cover

Rene and Henry posing with their Las Vegas t-shirts from their dad

Chuy using his Christmas gift: a food and water bowl set

Me wearing my Christmas gifts (loved the scarf and jewelry from my mother-in-law)

How I Spent My Christmas Vacation, Part 1 of 3

2007-12-26T10:47:00.000-08:00

Alas, Christmas is over!

I can honestly say that the work leading up to Christmas – the fretting over what to give, the shopping, the wrapping of gifts – was all worth it. I truly enjoyed Christmas this year, and it was nice having lots of family come over to share a meal and open presents. This feeling was unlike Christmas of prior years, when I felt like I was just going through the motions and focusing too much on the gifts I gave – do they like it? Should I have gotten them X instead of Y? Did I give too much or too little? – are the questions that bounce around my head all day. I finally came to the realization yesterday that focusing on the people, rather than the gift-giving part, is the true meaning of Christmas. Even if I lose all my possessions in the world, nothing can take the place of family to comfort and protect you. I hope this Christmas feeling lasts all year.

That being said, since Christmas fell on the last day of the four-day weekend, it was tough getting up this morning to get to work. My sleep pattern was ravaged this weekend by late nights watching season 3 of Lost (my husband and I refuse to watch series TV until it comes out on DVD because we hate waiting a week to find out what happens next – we like the instant gratification box sets provide) and days filled with visiting malls or wrapping gifts. Thankfully, the malls did not turn out to be the nightmares I had envisioned. If you are willing to park far away and come with a relaxed attitude the mall experience is actually a pleasant one. It would have been more pleasant for me had I worn flat shoes to the mall, but wanting to be stylish, I stupidly wore shoes with three-inch heels. My feet are plotting their revenge.

I had so much planned this weekend for this little blog of mine. I was going to overhaul the design by making the post column wider, putting up a new banner, adding a new "About Me" page, and re-arranging the format of the existing information. Unfortunately, NONE of these planned changes were executed. Somehow my time disappears into a black hole every time a four-day weekend comes around.

On Saturday, Rene and I hit the mall and bought presents for everyone left on our list. We shopped from 11 am to 8 pm. If that's not dedication I don't know what is!

On Sunday, I spent part of the day organizing said gifts. I ended up crashing around 2 pm from hunger and made myself a pizza bagel from pasta sauce and leftover mozarella cheese in the fridge (necessity truly is the mother of invention). At night the whole family dressed up to the nines to attend my sister's graduation from the Nursing Program at LAVC. Congrats Vieve! This ceremony was unlike typical commencement exercises and was more like prom, complete with a DJ and dancing at the end of the night. Here are some pictures:

Dad, Vieve, and Mom posing in front of the tree before leaving the house

Chuy getting into the mix

My brother and Rene waiting for the food to come

Ken and Vieve

Rene and I

Check out the decorations - very prom-like, no? They also hired a harp player to play during dinner time to add some class to the evening.

Vieve and her fellow graduates

Vieve receiving her diploma

Posing with fellow graduates in the background

The whole family posing for a picture after the ceremony

A Quiet Time at the Office

2007-12-21T16:28:00.000-08:00

There’s a hush in the office this afternoon, which is not surprising given that it’s the last work day before Christmas, and many are taking the day off and not coming back until December 26 or after the New Year. I’m one of the unlucky ones still sitting at my desk at 4:30 pm.

It’s not that I forgot to schedule vacation time – I would’ve been nice to take a vacation next week. It’s because I only have two weeks’ vacation and I am saving the days for a trip next May. In my past job, I had five weeks’ vacation, which is almost unheard of here in the US (but common for European countries). Even though I like my current job more than my previous one, it’s this time of year (and summer time) that make me miss my old job. Is it shallow to love a job because of the benefits?

Now that my vacation is reduced to two measly weeks I have to be really careful with how I use the days. Last year I took the week between Christmas and New Year’s off then took three weeks off in January – just because I could. I don’t remember much from that lazy three week vacation apart from sleeping until noon and watching Oprah whenever the mood struck. I also remember spending a few days exploring the newly-opened mall near my house and giving my credit card a serious workout at Nordstrom’s.

This year I will be working hard throughout December and next January in preparation for a work trip to Shanghai, China. I have never been to China, but have always wanted to visit, so this work assignment is exciting. The work will be demanding, but I have no problem with that since I will only be coming home to an empty hotel room at the end of the day. Hopefully I will have a chance to relax and explore the city during the weekends. I have already checked out several guidebooks from the library and will be drafting my weekend itinerary over the long weekend.

Stocking Up on Office Supplies

2007-12-19T16:26:00.001-08:00

What is it about supplies that I love so much?

I looked forward to going back to elementary and high school because it meant that I would be buying brand-new school supplies. Thoughts of new crayons, paper, binders, colored pencils, mechanical pencils and pencil cases from Hello Kitty, and perhaps a new backpack, danced in my head. I remember having a Hello Kitty pencil case that included a pencil sharpener, magnifying glass, and ruler once, and that was my prized possession for two school years – 6th and 7th grade. I still have a pencil case from Hello Kitty that I carry around (see above photo) but it’s nowhere near its 6th grade counterpart.

This love of supplies never waned, and one of my favorite things to do is check out the supply room for cool new things. Today, I visited the supply room for tape and came back to my desk with the following:

1 can of office and desk cleaner
2 rolls of tape
1 can of cleaning duster (you can never keep your keyboard too clean)
1 glue stick
2 refills for my click eraser
1 Sharpie pen
1 Sharpie accent highlighter
1 “Copy” stamp

I’m very particular about keeping my workspace clean and organized. I hate rifling through my desk to look for things – important documents are sorted and filed, and notepads and post-its are displayed prominently in my cube for easy access. The last thing I want to do is forget something important by not writing it down.

I think the reason I love supplies so much is their usefulness and specificity. I love it when I find a pen that writes smoothly – it makes handwriting a breeze and a pleasure. I also love having different colors of the same pen (my current favorite is the Precise V5 rolling ball pen from Pilot) so that I can color-code tasks (red for urgent, green for next week, pink for notes, etc.) and/or highlight notes that I’ve taken. My office doesn’t supply these pens so I’ve had to buy them myself from Staples or Office Depot – that is how much I love having certain supplies.

Yes, I am a freak. A super-organized, tidy, and prepared freak.

Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

2007-12-18T20:57:00.000-08:00

I’ve had several conversations with different people about how it doesn’t feel like it’s the holidays, even though Christmas is right around the corner. Maybe it’s because it’s been a warm winter in LA so far; perhaps it’s the slumping housing market and possible recession (hey when you hear it almost every day on NPR you start believing it). Or maybe it’s because we didn’t decorate our house this year?

Well, it finally began to feel like Christmas to me last week. It all started with my book club meeting last Wednesday, where I had saw people I haven’t spoken to during the past year (I have been MIA for most of the year due to work travel and general laziness). When you haven’t seen people for that long it’s almost like making new friends again; so much happens over the course of the year that just catching up can take half an hour. It was a lot of fun catching up with all the lovely and smart ladies from the book club, women full of great insight and opinions.

This past Saturday I had lunch with my old co-workers from BDO. We all started at the same time and kept in touch even though we’ve all left the company except for one person (partner track!). Again, it was fun seeing all of them and listening to what they’ve been up to.

Lunch at Il Tiramisu

After lunch, I went Christmas tree shopping with my mom, my sister, and Rene. It was a pretty quick trip at Home Depot – we ended up buying the first tree we saw. After hauling it home, we placed it on the stand and decorated it. Here are some pictures:

My sister and mom hamming it up while shopping for a tree

Finding a place for the tree and setting it up

What I do to help out: pose with tree cuttings to imitate a turkey

Pretty colors

Tree decorations are hung and the lights are on

Chuy admiring the tree

Now that the tree is decorated and the presents are under it, I'm beginning to feel the holiday spirit. It's amazing what a tree, lights, and fancy wrapping can do.

Cupcakes - yum!

2007-12-18T10:19:00.000-08:00

I've gotten tired of looking at my old post but I'm not quite ready for my next entry, so here's some food for thought courtesy of Blogthings.com (you should visit, they have some fun quizzes):

You Are a Cupcake

Cute and fun, you never take life too seriously.
People are constantly surprised by how delightful you are.

What Dessert Are You Most Like?

What's in a Name?

2007-12-12T14:10:00.001-08:00

A pregnant friend recently found out that she's having a boy. She and her husband both wanted a girl this time, a sibling to their adorable three-year old boy. Until now, she had been thinking of girl names: Sydney, Peyton, and Sophia. Since she's having a boy she wanted to know if I had any ideas for boy names and I told her I’d think about it.

To start, I looked up the most popular boy names of 2006 according applications submitted to Social Security. Here they are, in ranking order:

Jacob
Michael
Joshua
Ethan
Matthew
Daniel
Christopher *
Andrew
Anthony
William

For the most part those are nice, solid names for a boy. Of all of them I like Christopher the best because it’s versatile (the boy could be called Christopher or Chris) and also because I have a cousin who's always made me laugh with the same name. On the other hand, I’d be hard-pressed to name any kid Anthony because it’s such a common name and also because I had a really lousy manager named Anthony who made me cry at work (not in front of him, thank goodness, because it might have freaked him out; I cried in the ladies’ restroom). It’s amazing how our choice in names is influenced by people we’ve had in our lives.

On my drive home from work the other night, I thought about all the names that I’ve liked throughout the years. Oh, there were some horrendous ones:

Tzeitel Anastasia - During 8th grade, we read and watched Fiddler on the Roof. Tevye's (the main character's) oldest daughter was named Tzeitel: the one who was in love with the tailor named Motel Kamzoil. Anyway, she had been promised to a fat old butcher named Lazar Wolf in the beginning of the play, and when Tevye found out that she was in love with Motel Kamzoil he broke off the engagement by making up a dream where his dead mother came to him told him that Tzeitel should marry a man named Motel Kamzoil. The fact that I can spell all these names correctly is a little scary but I really loved that musical. With songs like If I Were a Rich Man and Matchmaker Matchmaker, how could I not? I added Anastasia as an extra flourish.

Chantal Giselle - There was a period in my life when I was obsessed with French names. Of course, I always like the unique ones, ones that you didn’t hear too often, hence Chantal. Sounds tragic and romantic at the same time, no? I also liked Chloe but only the way it’s spelled and not the way it’s pronounced – like Zoey, a name I don’t like.

When picking out these names I wanted them be unique, but now I realize that names should symbolize something and be unique, but not so unique that they get teased in school. I mean, can you imagine the horrible teasing Tzeitel Anastasia would get from other kids and the number of teachers and principals that would mispronounce the name? Unless you lived in Russia before the Cultural Revolution, of course.

Speaking of weird names, I have come across some that have either grated my nerves or made me laugh:

Nimrod - Seriously, someone had this name at a company I used to work for. I don’t even want to know how many jokes were told at this poor guy’s expense. His last name was Johnson – I kid you not!

Tolu - A girl from Peru (named Tolu – hey that rhymes) was in my third grade class. She sat next to me and liked to talk but I always got into trouble, not her. She had a thick accent that sounded like Penelope Cruz.

Priscilla - Only drag queens should have this name, plus the nicknames are horrible - Prissy or Cilla, anyone?

Cherry/Apple: It’s only recently that fruit names have become acceptable (or have they?). Gwyneth Paltrow naming her daughter Apple didn’t come as a big surprise to me – I once had a neighbor named Apple and friends from school named Cherry (Cherry is a pretty common Filipino name). I like both names but Cherry bothers me, only because teenage boys can be crass and might joke about “popping the cherry.” Gross!

After all that, I'm probably the last person she wants to consult for a baby name, but there's a few months left to think about the right name for her new baby. Good luck!

'Tis the Season for Gifts

2007-12-12T14:06:00.000-08:00

According to Blogthings.com, I am a

Practical Gift Giver

Your gifts are useful, appropriate, and custom tailored to each person.
In your opinion, the best gifts are gifts that someone will actually use.
Your gifts may not be the most glamourous, but they are always appreciated.

What Kind of Gift Giver Are You?

I only have a few more gifts to go...