Monthly Archives: July 2008

i’ve got nothing to say

Dear San Francisco tourists – WALK on the left, STAND on the right

I didn’t go to class this evening.  I went to have some vegan Vietnamese food in Oakland instead. 

Part of the reason I didn’t go to class is because of a sinus ache that is returning from over a month of not fully recovering from a sinus infection.

I haven’t run more than a mile or two in a while because my knee hurts, but I’m too scared to go to the doctor because I’ve convinced myself the doctor will want to replace my knee.  I’m too young for this.

I’ve put on some extra pudge.  But it doesn’t really bother me as much as it usually does.

Boy and I have grown close.  It’s nice.

The closer we get the more the events of last fall haunt me.  But that’s not a bad thing for me and boy.

Sometimes after watching Jon and Kate plus 8, I start talking to Jack like Kate does her kids.  Because I am a strong hard-ass and he will grow up to be the best dog he can be with my help.  I am shaping a dog people.

Jack just sneezed like 5 or 6 times in a row.

I was looking forward to BlogHer.  But now I am wary of such a large community of women.  Mostly because I am tired of mothers who think being a mother makes them more valuable an individual than other women who don’t have children.  It’s not cool.  I’m hoping stereotypes will be broken.

I have serious stomach issues.  Sometimes I have to rush boy home so I can go to the bathroom and he has taken to running in circles around me yelling “poop emergency!  it’s a poop emergency people!!”

Boy turns 38 tomorrow. 

I remind him of his age everyday.

I just made him some tea and saw a dead little fruit fly in the water and just scooped it out without changing the water. 

I don’t feel bad about this.  I think I would have done the same if it were my tea.

He’s going to read that and spit on my waffle in the morning.  But that’s okay.

Because I made him a chocolate cake with cayenne pepper and cinnamon.  It’s awesome.


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When I was 14 my grandfather died.  It was one of those deaths that everyone knew was coming.  My mom brought me and each of my siblings over one at a time to visit with him right before he died.  He was sort of fading in and out of talking gibberish and making sure we were all okay.  Every time he drifted my step-grandmother brought his attention to me, sitting at the foot of his bed, and he would smile.  I remember being woken up by my mom early one morning because she had sat with him through the night.  She sat on the side of my bed and woke me up and before she opened her mouth I knew what she was going to say.  I had a dream the night before I was locked in a room with his coffin.

This was a series of dreams I had been having for a good 6 months prior to his death.  I would wake up mid sobbing or puffy eyed and not really remember the dream but knew it had something to do with him.  I didn’t handle the funeral very well, but I blame my sister for that.  She’s the strong one.  And right before the wake she cracked like I had never seen her do before and it scared the shit out of me.  If she can’t handle something, I know I won’t be able to deal.

The dreams didn’t stop, however they did change.  The first one started with a phone call.  My grandfather called from heaven with some news to deliver and after talking to my mom and not being able to get her to listen, I got on the phone.  He told me the news, and I knew he had to hang up but I shouted “I miss you” and he was gone.  I woke up and ran to deliver the news to my mom.  The dreams continued sporadically and the phone calls changed to my grandfather coming over to spend a day with me around the house to catch up on how everyone was doing.  The weird part was sometimes we would speak in French.  I had always regretted not being able to speak in French with him (he was fluent – from Zurich) but I had yet to become fluent. 

Anyway, that’s the only death of someone who was very close to me.  And I don’t think the dreams were foreshadowing anything.  I think the dreams were there to help me deal with fear.  I wrote about my grandmother being sick.  She finally made it home last week after delays with infections.  And my dreams about death started up again.  And this isn’t foreshadowing anyone’s death.  That woman is a steel magnolia.  I expect she’ll surpass everyone’s expectations like usual, although she will take a little longer to do so this time around.

Instead this is more of a selfish concern about growing up.  I will face mortality again inevitably.  And I think my psyche is prepping me for facing my fears, getting the tears out in my sleep until I’m strong enough to think about them when I’m awake.  So I push away a little, call my mom, ask her to check up on people for me because I’m too scared to do it myself. 

I think part of learning how to love is learning how to deal with death.  No one is naturally good at dealing with death.  But I do know that the more I love someone, the more likely I am to keep a certain distance.  And I’m sure everyone does this to a degree.  The dreams that started again have knocked me off kilter.  I’m stubborn and really good at convincing myself I’m tough.  But not so much lately.

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this skirt will make me smarter, my thighs thinner, and my hair beautiful

I turned 27 on Sunday. 

I could go back and reflect “On Turning 26” but I spent a good year reflecting back on the decisions I made during that year and, well, sometimes it’s okay to not analyze everything.  I baked a tart (surprisingly delicious), had a good brunch (cafe cacao!), wore a dress (over jeans, b/c I insisted on wearing one despite the foggy cold), took off for the beach, watched Jack and boy dodge waves and get sand in their nooks and crannies, ate at my favorite restaurant Hulas Island Grill and Tiki Lounge, then drove home with a tired puppy passed out in the backseat and good tunes on the drive.  And then I stayed up to 2:30 am studying for a midterm, went to work, came home, and spent a solid 3.5 hours in a classroom on 12 midterm questions – and I didn’t even finish!  So I came home, cried a little, dug into my princess cake, then went to bed where I curled up in a tight little ball for most of the night and proceeded to dream that I was stuck in that classroom working on those 12 questions until 1 am. 

And now, a full day later, I’ve recovered from my midterm.  It helps that when I got home and sat down on the floor Jack took a tennis ball and nudged it all the way up my back just to let it fall.  Priorities, you know?

I got a tennis skirt for my birthday, which sounds weird, but I’ve been wanting one for a while.  And I fully expect my game to improve just by wearing a pleated tennis skirt.  And I’ll be wearing it to run in too.  Because I can.

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I love lemons, #too many

so the lemon bar reviews are going on hold.  Due to, well, pudge.  Hips and thighs to be precise.  Once I get back in balance, i’ll pick these up again. 🙂

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I know, 2 movies in a row! 

I went to see this Sunday night.  And I left completely pissed off, but I’ll get to that later…  I really like how the movie brought my attention to the subtleties of affection that I take for granted.  Without words the actions are amplified and it brought me back to the time where you really really really want to hold someone’s hand but aren’t quite sure how to go about it.  That was nice.  I have a new respect for the small motions of falling in love.

The chubbies were funny.  But seriously, obese people are one of those PC topics that you aren’t really supposed to make fun of… but now that Pixar/Disney did it, does that mean it’s okay now?  Believe me, I’m not that PC, like at all.  I happily poke fun at anyone any day, but it seems to me that making fun of overweight/obese people hasn’t crossed-over into that territory yet.  It’s still lingering in the shadow of only self-deprecating humor is acceptable, but no one else can poke fun.  And now Disney did it.  Good for Disney.

Okay, here’s what totally pissed me off.  This movie has a great message about consumption.  And Americans are so obsessed with consumption.  (I actually catch myself getting anxious and wanting to go buy something to soothe my anxiety – bad, bad.)  So I love that so many people will see this movie and enjoy it.  But when we got up to leave after confirming that the closing credits song was indeed Peter Gabriel, I looked over to see all the effing wrappers, drink cups, and bottles scattered down the row.  I was PISSED.  Here was this message about people buying over-sized everything and the trash accumulating and that’s exactly what people did when the movie was over.  I left that theater with a plastic bottle that I insisted on carrying all the way home just so I could make sure it got put into the recycle bin and all these people just left their trash.  I know, boy said it too, someone will come along behind us to clean it up – but seriously?  Did they just watch the robots on the screen and nothing else?  Okay, i’ll stop now.  Just know, if you see someone glaring at you with squinty eyes and a thin line frown after you leave your trash behind, that’s me…  that’s right, changing the world through passive aggression one person at a time.

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