Thanksgiving of Yesterday

So 10 years ago when I was dating the wannabe Chicano militant (who now looks like he's a bonafide militant), we went to see my favorite band Ozomatli. Actually, we were there to see Aztlan Underground, and Ozo was still just opening for them on this night, which happened to be the night before Thanksgiving. So the gig was in an old warehouse somewhere near downtown LA and later it got raided by la jura(police). Between sets, an artsy fartsy militant Chicana put on a slide show which was meant to compare the conflict in Chiapas with the actual events of the original Thanksgiving. At the end of a very moving tirade about the devils of government enslaving and murdering indigenous peoples, Artsy Fartsy Chicana screamed into the mic, "You are the indigenous turkey! You are the meat being feasted upon by the oppressor!" She chanted this a few times trying to get the crowd to chant as well, and most of the time this type of crowd would happily follow along. After repeating herself a few times, one big cholo in the crowd yelled back, "Nah! Fuck it! I want TURKEY!!!" After this everyone followed Big Cholo in chanting "Turkey...turkey" and that was the end of Artsy Fartsy Chicana's protest, at least on that night.

So Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!! This indigenous turkey is about to start cooking a la Martha Stewart.

Why California ROCKS!

It's the week of Thanksgiving and it's 90 degrees out.
LOVE IT!!!

Priscilla

Yesterday, one of my pts passed away. She was one of the sweetest kids I've ever taken care of. Lately I'd started to look at her and feel really sad that she would never be able to do the stuff that other teens would experience. For all the dumb things I did as a kid, I'm thankful that I had the chance to do them even though I cringe at them now. Pris yearned for those experiences, but was too sick to act her age. Maybe now when teenagers are getting on my nerves at the movies or the mall, I'll be able to appreciate their youth and vitality, at least for a while until they really annoy me.

P wrote letters to her friends, sisters, and the nurses before she died. It reminded me of a scrapbook Vanessa Reyes made for her daughter. She and her husband wrote letters to their daughter for certain milestones, first day of school, first boyfriend, wedding day, birth of her child, etc. The letters are meant to be opened only if either or both had passed away. I think it is important to let people know how you feel about them every day (ok, maybe not those you loathe). But sometimes it's difficult to get those really mushy feelings out in person. We should all give it a try sometime.

So this year I'm taking away these two things from the pts I've lost. From Jess, telling people what you like about them as the thought strikes you, and from Priscilla, putting your thoughts into writing before it's too late.

I apologize if I get all mushy whenever someone dies, but this is basically my journal. I'm around more death than the average person and it sort of skews my thinking.

Depression

I was having a very lovely day today. We threw a baby shower for our friend, first baby of the bunch. I was surrounded by friends, the place was very festive, we were having fun playing Baby Bingo. Here's where my blissful day came to a screeching halt. My friend's mother said she wanted offer me her condolences. Thinking she had me confused with someone else, I gave her a puzzled look. She went on to say that my ex (the last one, who shortly before breaking up with me had been shopping for an engagement ring) had gotten married.

Being the trooper that I am, I put on a cheery face and told her that thankfully I had dodged that bullet. I really thought I was ok. But then I went into the bathroom and almost puked. I tend to become nauseated when I have a surge of strong emotion. That very reaction, in fact, is to blame for why said ex broke up with me. When we had first started dating, we ran into another of my exes, "the love of my life." Same reaction, nausea, and not from disgust. Well P said, 2 years and several discussions about "the future" later, that he could never get the sight of my reaction to another man out of his head. He said he knew that he could never cause such a reaction in me. Obviously he was wrong.

I managed to get through the day and an uncomfortable ride home with my mom without losing it. But once home, the floodgates opened. To add to the misery, I had to come to work at 10pm, where someone promptly asked me what was wrong and why were my eyes so red and puffy. There went the floodgates again.

Just when I thought I was ok with being a spinster, it all goes horribly wrong.

My Halloween

So this was the first Halloween I dressed up since college. I was supposed to be Elphaba Thropp, but I didn't have time to put on my makeup after sitting in traffic for close to 2 hours to get to my sister's house. Damn 60 fwy.

Anyway, here's my costume. I seriously could not have found a more covered up costume, which is good because fall has finally come to SoCal and last night was a bit nippy.

My quirk has a name...

Ever since I can remember, I've had the feeling that colors and numbers have personalities. I always thought that in early childhood I had made up stories about my crayons and numbers, and simply carried them with me my whole life. But I just found a name for the way I perceived numbers and colors. Synesthesia. I was Googling Nikola Tesla today and apparently he had a form of synesthesia, which made me read up on that, and then there it was. Evidence that I'm not the only person that sees personalities in things. Some people actually see colors oozing from printed numbers, but I don't have anything nearly as lovely.

Anyway, it just made me wonder how many strange connections occur in the human brain and how different perception can be from one brain to the next. I often look at schizophrenic people and wonder if their disease lets them see things the rest of us can't see. How scary would that be?

Being a spinster doesn't come in handy...

when one is doing laundry at the Laundromat. I was doing a formidable laundry task, washing all my dirty clothes, scrubs, AND big ass Mexican blankets as I thought winter was on its way. Too bad it was like 90 degrees today. So anyway, I was trying to fold 4 sets of sheets and 3 huge blankets. I could have used old Martha's help because they all turned out really crooked and it was hard keeping them from touching the floor. That got me to thinking about how much easier it'd be if I had a guy to help me fold the laundry. At least the sheets. I suppose I could have asked the homeless man in the next aisle to help out, but I really don't think I could have handled the smell.

In other news, my sister found a picture of my ex (aka the love of my life) on the internet. She knew I had been just a bit melancholy last week over what would have been our 11th anniversary. And that night I went out with a friend, got a bit drunk, heard a song that reminded me of the night we got together, and then cried like a schoolgirl. Seriously, I had had my closure and was over it. But for some reason, that night being what it was (or what it might have been I guess), combined with the drinks, and then the song, I had myself a good cry. It was really embarrassing. But now I'm all good. Seeing that picture, all I could say was grody. It is what it is.

Laughing babies

These cackling babies crack me up!

Fries

Where the hell is PETA in a case like this?

The poor pup. I can empathize. I had an equal amount of slobber streaming from my mouth last night at McDonald's. There are certain times when I have such a fierce craving for McD's fries, I can scarcely control myself. Last night I decided to "be good" and get a side salad with my cheeseburger, mostly due to peer pressure as my coworker was next to me. Now ordinarly, I don't place such restrictions on myself unless I don't fit into my pants. Well, my scrubs have been a bit tight recently, so there you go. Side salad.

Too bad I'm sitting here still wanting a few nice and salty fries.

Pablo Ruiz

Seventeen years ago, I fell completely in love with this Argentinian pop star. Today I pulled out an old videotape, circa 1990-91, and have been watching the DOZENS of performances of his I caught on Spanish TV. I guess this was my first obsession. Gotta love that big nose and the great hair. And those sweet choreographed dance moves. I got to Googling him today and he's pretty much dropped off the face of the planet. So then I thought it'd be nice to get his music on CD, since my old tapes were well-worn 16 years ago, I can only imagine how crappy they'd sound now. Too bad the buttheads on eBay are selling the CDs for $40. Are they nuts?!?

Pablo Ruiz. Sigh. I still love him, even if he is gay.

*ETA* So I got one of the CDs (my fave actually) on eBay for $8. Too bad the shipping is just as much.

I think we're alone now

Especially after karaoke like this.

RENT, Boobs, and Boba

Tonight I went to see RENT with my sister, niece, and nephew. It was awesome of course. Got myself another RENT shirt because my o.g. one went missing. No matter, it probably would only have fit my arm. I'm at the heaviest I've ever been, and I gotta say, it seems like I gain weight not only on the thighs, but the boobs as well. I'm sure most would consider that a blessing, but my tatas were already big enough thank you very much, and I don't want to buy new bras. I'm seriously considering going to the gym again. Seriously. I'll let you know how that goes. As long as I fit into my pants, I always say. But I totally digress...

So before the show, we had dinner at Original Thai BBQ. I got my sister and her kids hooked on the joint and it's becoming our pre-Pantages fare of choice. As we were leaving, I told my sister how much fun it is to keep some boba balls in the big ass straw to shoot at passing cars. Probably not the best type of idea to mention in front of kids, but too late, I had said it. I gotta say, those kids don't know how to play pranks. My niece flat out refused to get involved, and my nephew was so inept at picking appropriate targets. My sister had to show him how to do it. FYI, I'm so not in the habit of corrupting minors, but a little boba to a window never hurt anybody. I hope.

A day to recharge...

So I read somewhere that introverts recharge themselves by being alone while extroverts recharge by being around other people. It's no secret I'm an introvert. Sure I love hanging out with friends, but periodically I need to have days to myself when I can just stay home, do nothing, and give my psyche a bit of a rest. Today was one of those days. I was supposed to go to a crop today, but I was dragging my ass all morning and really just didn't want to go. I was simply not feeling well. It wasn't that I was sick, I just wasn't well, kwim? It was probably a result of my work week.I worked 3 nights in a row, which I haven't done in years and swore to myself I'd never do again. I get super cranky and tired on that 3rd night. And I haven't had much sleep lately. This week started off badly. When I parked my car on Monday night just before going into work, I had to take a moment before getting out of the car. I had a really bad feeling. When I got onto the unit, everyone was crying. One of our patients had just passed away a few minutes before. I knew she was finally resting after many months of being terribly sick with Cystic Fibrosis, but it was still quite sad. We were dragging our asses the whole night. The sadness lingered, but I've been through this enough times to know how to get through it and do my job. Yesterday was the funeral. All I can say right now is that she was a good person, and it was an honor taking care of her. She was a true leader and always said exactly what she wanted to say to everyone. I'm going to try to be more like that, specifically in the way that she told those around her what she liked about them as the thought struck her. She didn't wait for a "right time" to be nice, if that makes any sense. Rest in Peace Jessica.

Jury Duty

So I finally got my jury duty summons after three years of hoping for one. I'm a freak and actually like serving on a jury, especially in the summer. The reasons are 1) I won't fight in a war so this is my way of serving my country and 2) it's nice to have a normal schedule for a couple of weeks and be able to "do lunch" with people in downtown.

My first day was actually last Wednesday, got called up to a courtroom early in the day along with 100 other people. We were given a very general overview of what the civil case would entail. Since it was a medical malpractice suit, I knew I would be considered an inappropriate juror by both plaintiff and defendant counsel. However, there were also a couple reasons why I would be biased. So being the honest and efficient person that I am, I put those reasons into writing at the end of the questionnaire and was one of the first to hand it in to the clerk. The sheets were then presumably taken to the judge and attorneys to read. I thought I'd be excused that day. Nope, about 40 people were excused before any interviews were done in the jury box.

We were all dismissed about 1pm that day and told to report back Wednesday after the holiday. I was stunned and little dismayed because I knew I would not be allowed to serve on this jury and not being sent back to the jury assembly room the first day meant that there was no way I'd sit on any other jury. Humph. So that afternoon I met another RN who happened to have worked at my hospital many years ago. She and I became buddies and both marveled at how we hadn't been excused.

So Wednesday comes, and we sit through another ENTIRE DAY of jury selection. Finally, today right before lunch I got called up. I gave my little schpiel and asked for a sidebar to explain why I might be biased without influencing the other potential jurors' opinions (it was a pretty big reason, but I stipulated that it would not impair my ability to serve as a juror but out of fairness everyone involved should be aware). Again, I thought I'd be excused immediately. Well that judge must have wanted to see my face again after lunch because he told me to please join them again after the break. So by that point I'd already made plans with some people to have dim sum in Chinatown and told them to wait for me. I had a lovely lunch with some interesting people, and upon returning to the courtroom, said my goodbyes, assuming I'd be excused. Nope. Sat another 3 hours in the jury box, got grilled by the plaintiff attorney, watched 6 jurors be excused (one of whom I sat next to and had a bit of a crush on, more on that later), and just started to think that maybe they saw that I was an intelligent, rational person and as good a juror as they were going to find, when the plaintiff attorney FINALLY thanked and excused me. I don't know what kind of jury he is going to end up with. The judge was already in a sour mood after 3 long days of jury selection, as we all were. When I left, there were only about 15 potential jurors left in the courtroom, 3 of whom I knew did not want to serve and would have lied through their teeth to be excused.

I must say I'm really disappointed by most people called for jury duty. There are some really stupid people in the world. And there are also very lazy ones who will do anything they can, including perjuring themselves, in order to get out of serving their jury duty. Several people said they couldn't understand English, even though they were having decent conversations in the halls, granted with accents, but still able to understand. I think someone actually pretended to be retarded, which nearly made me laugh. There was one woman who burst out crying saying she could never stand to listen to testimony/evidence of harm coming to a fetus, several other people who said they did not have the intellect to separate their logic from their emotions, and one woman who said she did not trust Western medicine at all (but she sure did trust tatoo parlors by the look of her).

Some funny quotes from the experience:
A man commenting on his experience with healthcare professionals in the delivery room while his wife was laboring:
"I felt completely impotent throughout the whole process, except for the conception."

A really dull fellow answering whether he knew anyone who'd given birth:
"Yeah, my mom."

A man on answering whether he never goes to a doctor anymore or distrusts doctors after being told he is too fat:
"Well, I am fat. I know that!"

The dude who was either slow or just pretended to be slow, replying to the judge's instruction to volunteer information that might make him biased:
Dude: "Yes."
Judge: "Alright, please volunteer that information."
Dude: "Yes."
Judge: "Are any of those questions relevant to you."
Dude: "Yes."
Judge: "Which ones?"
Dude: "Yes."
Judge: "You're excused."

Oh, another thing that had us in hysterics was the portly gentleman who kept falling asleep and snoring soooo loudly, that we had to poke him in the back and kick his chair repeatedly to wake him up. He was in the jury box for most of yesterday and today until the judge finally figured out who was snoring and excused him, but made the man drink 2 Red Bulls first. At one point, one of the attorneys asked him if he'd heard all the questions, and snoring guy said he had. Well that was a stinking lie.

And finally, on to the cute guy. Really good looking black guy with gorgeous hazel eyes, single, no kids, firefighter/arson investigator. I think I got him kicked off the panel. He'd been left alone by the attorneys after the first day, yet once he and I started chatting today during the sidebars(I sat next to him and he accidentally drank my water) about both being SC alums and living in the same apartment complex in college, he was excused. WEIRD. They excused a few more people after him before they excused me. I just thought the whole thing was illogical. I would have thought I would have been excused immediately after lunch. And I would have bet money that they'd have been happy with that guy as a juror. Oh well, guess it wasn't meant to be. Too bad we weren't excused at the same time. ;)

On Memorial Day, my friend's ex (her son's father) died in a motorcycle accident. Today I went to the graveside service to support my friend Marcie. The family decided to have a picnic at a park after the funeral, which I thought was a very nice way to end the day. The whole family was laughing, hugging, reminiscing. Culturally, it was interesting to see a different grieving process. In my culture, we mourn for a year, dressed in black the entire time, and there is A LOT of crying, guilt, and drama. I'm not much for that. I think when I die, I want my friends and family to think about good times with me and hopefully have nice things to say, preferably about me. And everyone should have buffalo wings, Dr. Pepper, and Sour Punch Straws in my honor. Oh, and I want a slideshow, but only with pretty pictures of me. Nothing from the ages of 10 to 14, yuck yuck yuck.

I HATE BLOGGER

THIS STUPID BLOG IS ALWAYS ON THE FRITZ. IT SUCKS ASS.

And that's all I have to say about that.

So I just saw United 93. I was a little fearful of the feelings it might elicit, but I actually didn't have a breakdown like I thought I might. Ever since 9/11, I've shied away from anything too emotional that would make me angry. Had the movie Pearl Harbor come out after 9/11, I probably wouldn't have seen it. It's silly I know, but that day, the whole week following it actually, put me off to so many things, sad movies and crocheting, for example. Like most Americans, I was glued to the television for a week following 9/11, crocheting an afghan while crying the whole time. Even at work, I don't know where we got it from, but we pulled in a small tv into the crib (it's the room behind the nurses station), waiting and hoping the search and rescue teams would pull out survivors. Unfortunately, there weren't many.

I think this is actually the first time I've written about this day, and it's been over 4 years. I don't even think I wrote about it in my journal, in fact, I think I've written in my journal about once a year since then. Maybe it put me off to writing in my journal as well. I guess the magnitude of that horror made my petty problems and concerns so miniscule, I just felt silly writing about them when the world was seemingly coming down around us. If it weren't for this blog, my silly little corner of the internet, I wouldn't be writing much at all.

My cousins in Mexico don't seem to understand the fear we Americans have now, just how much we've changed. They think because I'm brown and speak Spanish and yes, I call myself Mexican, the terrorists weren't after me. The fact of the matter is that I am an American citizen, and quite thankful for it in fact. I always thought of my ethnicity and nationality as two separate concepts, and even though I've always been a little too patriotic for what most people think I should be, I guess I never realized just how American I am. I'm not just talking about the material things. In fact, in that regard I'm not that after the American Dream. It's the old-fashioned stuff, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Each and every one of those things is why my mother came to this country, why she worked her ass off. She knew what it was like to have her life determined for her on the day of her birth. The color of her skin, her genitalia, which part of the state she was from, all these things she had no control over determined who she would be had she stayed in Mexico. But I digress...the point is that I am Mexican but I'm also an American.

My sister worked at the World Trade Center in LA for 14 years, and now works in the 2nd tallest skyscraper in downtown. Had the WTC in LA been a target on 9/11, my sister might very well be dead. If what happened in New York and Washington hadn't made me angry, just the thought of what might have happened here in LA just gives me chills. It really could have happened to any of us. It DID really happen to all of us in a way.

Anyway, like I said, no breakdown here. I just wanted to get my thoughts out. And before you go on to Fugly or Pink is the new blog, let's all just say a prayer that everyone on this planet can just stop trying to kill everyone else, no matter how justified we all think we are.

News on the Fake Tooth

I should be getting it in a couple of weeks. I spent half the day driving around mid-Wilshire and Beverly Hills, from my periodontist to the dental lab, but it's worth it to get my shiny new toof. I'm really hoping I'll be pleased because so far I've had a decent experience.

And just when I began to despair that my time with my adorable bald periodontist was coming to an end, he offered to do my general work as well! He doesn't have to waste his time on my measly fillings and wisdom teeth extractions, especially since that's not his bread and butter, but he's just a cool guy like that. I heart him.

You get what you pay for

I hate my {free} blog. It's always broken. I finally updated the damn thing yesterday, complete with visual aids, and it's off into oblivion, again.

Aargh.

I've been remiss

in my blogging duty. I've just been busy doing very boring things like working and planning a brunch. I did have a bit of excitement in April when I went to New York with my family and some friends. We did the usual touristy things like go the Empire State Building, Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, walked across the Brooklyn Bridge (with my 72 year old mother leading the way!...she's a bad ass), visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and walked from Brooklyn up to Little Italy for a hysterically dismal lunch.

The highlights included walking through Central Park on a beautiful spring day and getting a backstage tour and meeting the stars of Wicked!!! It's no secret I'm obsessed with Wicked. Not like stalk-the-actors-and-memorize-the-minutiae-of-their-lives obsessed, but just good old-fashioned-listen-to-the-CD-almost-every-day obsessed. When we mentioned to Eden Espinosa (who plays Elphaba), that we were from LA, she said she was from LA as well. We were so starstruck (which we normally never are), that we just stood there like a bunch of morons going, "Oh cool." Duh! She could very well have been from our neck of the woods and we just stood there like dumbasses. Oh well, it was a good time and we've have many laughs about it since.

In other news, my niece Gabbie starred as Miss Hannigan and her brother Jacob made his debut as Rooster Hannigan in their school's production of Annie. We were quite proud of them.

And last, here's a picture of Gabbie in the dress I made for her school project on Queen Mary I. Oops, guess it was a bit too long after all.

Oh, almost forgot to mention, I actually went on a date. It wasn't horrible, so I may do it again. Who knows. I may just get lazy and annoyed again, but for now I'll just go along for the ride.

I was such a cute kid...what happened?

I spent the evening finally helping my mom sort through family photos, many of them damaged by a flooded garage years ago. Here are some of my favorites. There's the famous too-big lime green bikini that I sported in Acapulco. It kept falling off, but hey, at 3 I wasn't too modest anyway.

Then there's the infamous potty picture. Whenever moms of toddlers tell me their pained stories of attempts at potty training, I tell them to just do what my mom did, tie the brats to their potty chairs. Worked for me, I was potty-trained at 12 months. Of course, to this day I can't void unless I have chonies around my ankles, apparently I need to feel some sort of restraint when peeing.

There's the Halloween 1985 picture of me dressed like a nurse (who'd have known). The chubby Asian kid is my little buddy Dominic Lau. I often think if our mothers believed in arranged marriages Dom and I would have been betrothed in preschool. Dom went on to push me in the 2nd grade, causing me to fracture my arm in three places. So I guess I should blame my slightly gimpy arm on him. Anyway, you can't tell from the pic, but the book in my hand is "Go Ask Alice." Obviously, someone wasn't monitoring my reading materials at 8 years old.

And finally one of me at the organ. No story to that one, just love my little pigtails.

I LOVE THIS SHOW

How I Met Your Mother. I want to date every single one of these guys. Even Barney, the token dickhead with a heart of gold.

Being a spinster comes in handy...

when your niece needs to make a costume for a school project. I spent the last 3 days at my sister's house making this. Now if I had a family of my own, would I be able to get away with that?

I had planned on going out Friday night, but my plans were thwarted by aforementioned project. My love of anything Irish is well known. But I seem to have a little St. Patrick's Day tradition of my own...making plans for Midori Sours and maybe just a taste of Guinness (yuck), and then getting assed out. Every year something happens that prevents me from following through with my plans. Granted, for the past couple of years I really don't feel like going out to a bar or club. But because it was St. Pat's, I was REALLY looking forward to going out last night. Unfortunately, my sewing skills aren't that great so it's taking me a lot longer to finish this dress than I had anticipated. I had to stay one more night to work on it and since I'm working this weekend and the project is due Tuesday, I really wanted to finish yesterday afternoon and then celebrate at McMurphy's Tavern.

So as disappointed as I was to spend one of my favorite holidays in a sweatshop, my sister was much more upset than I was. Upon being informed that I had to cancel plans with my friends, my sister responded with, "Damn you! You could have met your future husband tonight and I want a niece or nephew!" She had even bought some sparkly green bracelets for me to where out. When she came home, we were no where near being done with the dress at that point and, once she saw how much work was involved, she didn't make me leave.

So now my sister is acting like a biological clock by proxy.

**ETA** My niece got an A on her project. Now that's what I'm talking about!

10 Things Guaranteed to Put Me In A Good Mood

I can always find something to blog about on 2Peas.

1. Sour Punch Straws
2. hearing a Violent Femmes song on the radio
3. flannel pj's
4. cold Dr. Pepper in a can
5. hearing from old friends
6. sucking on a lime
7. getting hugs & kisses from my sister's kids
8. getting a compliment
9. finding money I'd forgotten about (doesn't happen nearly enough)
10. Vegas baby, you just can't be in a bad mood in Vegas

Painting

Been busy doing this bit of craziness in my craft closet. Don't worry, it's only one very small wall.

McDreamy

So I first fell in love with Patrick Dempsey when I was 10 years old and watched "Can't Buy Me Love." I really think he was the template for my taste in men. It's no secret I'm a sucker for goofy, nerdy men with big noses. Since then, anytime I would see him in a movie I'd be the only person in the theater going, "Oh my God! It's Patrick Dempsey!!!" Now that he's such a big name thanks to his McDreamy role on Grey's Anatomy, he's everywhere. And I'm loving every minute of it. To be honest, I HATED Grey's Anatomy when I watched the pilot. The only reason I continued to watch (on mute for a few episodes) was to see my darling lover boy Patrick. But now I'm completely addicted to this show. I'm even seriously contemplating buying a McDreamy shirt. Yeah, I'm a geek.

Here are then and now pics of my darling lover boy. Yeah, he makes me wanna do bad things.

And the letdown...

So the weekend o' dates never materialized. Homeboy from Seattle called Saturday afternoon to say his friends were having a barbeque (on a drizzly day? yuck) and if I'd like to go. Uh, drive way out of my way to Lawndale (double yuck) to who know's what kind of situation to hang out with a bunch of people I don't know? No thanks.

Then Sunday, what can I say, I bailed on biker dude. I just was never enthused by this poor guy, and then I REALLY wasn't feeling adventurous enough to go on my first motorcycle ride with this cold ass weather. I felt really bad for him, but let's be honest, I felt worse for myself. It's all about me right?

When it rains, it pours...

I've noticed that when it comes to guys, there will be extended periods of drought when NOTHING comes my way. But every few years (yes years, when I was younger it was every few months, but now gravity and time are leaving their marks), there will suddenly be a convergence of interest at the same time. Today, Valentine's Day 2006, I have had 3 men express interest. THREE.

#1 A guy at the hospital asked me to be his Valentine and gave me a bag of candy. I don't know how I feel about dating someone from work.
#2 Someone I went out with year asked me out for Sunday and just happened to be in my area today. Hmm.
#3 A friend of a friend who will be flying into LA this weekend.

Why can't these things be rationed out? My sister says it helps to keep one from being desperate. Maybe.

I know that none of these will go anywhere. But it is nice to know I'm not yet completely repulsive to all guys.

So as my sister often tells me, a girl's gotta eat.

Hitting a Spinster Milestone

Today after running some errands, I realized I hadn't eaten in about 20 hours. Remembering that I had nothing to eat at home and standing right in front of Olive Garden, I decided to have a meal at a sit-down restaurant alone. ALONE. I've never done this. Sure, I enjoy spending time alone and running errands by myself, but going into an actual restaurant, sitting down, and eating sans company, that is a first. But I figured, hey, it was only a few years ago that I started going to the movies alone and that turned out to be a great thing, why not try dining alone?

It was immediately obvious that I was a thing to be pitied. Here are some of the choice comments from my excursion.

Greeter outside: "Are you meeting anyone?"
Me: "No."
Greeter [opening the door]: "Oh." (This "oh" was just a beat too long).

Hostess: "One? Is that right?" (Hostess looks genuinely anguished by this)...
Me: "Sure is."
Hostess: "Let's see what we can do for you." (Hostess is very cheery now)...
(A minute later...)
Hostess: "Is a table ok?"
Me: "That's fine."
Hostess: "Oh, let's just get you a booth."

(Upon arriving at booth, Hostess takes away the extra settings)...
Hostess: "Sorry." (The sad emoticon inflected in the comment.)

Server: "I'll get your meal as soon as possible." (Insert another sad emoticon).

Later...

Server: "Are you still ok?" (The day's last sad face.)

Now maybe I was just being sensitive, but I really don't recall quite such comments from restaurant employees. It made me chuckle a bit. I'm really proud that I actually did it, and enjoyed the experience. I could have done without most of the pitying gestures, but like I said, it's a milestone in my spinsterdom. No doubt there will be many occassions when I'll have to dine alone, I'm glad I picked today to test it out. Overall it was quite an enjoyable experience, thanks to the scrapbooking mags I had with me. I was able to plan out some simple layouts for a gift I'll be giving on Saturday.

Now vacationing alone, THAT will be my spinster magnus opus.

My life is monumentally boring...

and my blog is broken yet again. Fuck this.

10 Everyday Items I Couldn't Live Without

So fellow Pea and Foxy Michelle posted this challenge on 2Peas like 2 seconds ago, so I promised her I'd put it on my blog.

The 10 Everyday Items I Couldn't Live Without are:
1. my computer
2. Silicone Glove lotion from AVON
3. Labello lip balm
4. my shower radio
5. bras
6. Nitrile gloves
7. nail polish
8. color in any shape or form, i.e. colored pens, SB supplies, clothes
9. warm socks
10. my comb for "ethnic hair," as my hair is quite enthusiastic ;)

And here's another challenge I saw on 2Peas.
What are 5 Things That You Consistently Worry About Each Day?

1. my fake tooth flying out of my mouth
2. my Shooting Butt Pain (aka sciatica) acting up
3. any manner of bug flying into my mouth
4. locking myself out of my apartment
5. Ok, that's it, I just don't worry that much I guess. The things I worry about are kinda lame, but that's a good thing right?

I got tagged by Bucket a while back, but I'm barely getting around to this. Sorry.

Four movies you would watch over and over again (in no real order):
Say Anything
Dirty Dancing
Singing the Rain
Grease

Four places you have lived:
in LA-Highland Park, Lincoln Heights, South Central, Atwater Village
and El Paso, Texas

Four T.V. shows you love to watch:
Medium
Lost
Gray's Anatomy
How I Met Your Mother (LOVING THIS!)

Four places you have been on vacation:
Cancun
Puerto Vallarta
Italy
Greece

Four web-sites I visit daily:
only FoxyCroppers
but almost daily, TwoPeas

Four of my favorite foods:
Buffalo Wings
French Dips
Picadillo (a type of soup)
anything with lime

Four places I’d rather be right now:
at the movies
on a beach in Cancun
in New York watching Wicked
in new York watching Martha Stewart live

Back from Mexico

So I'm back from Zacatecas. I took about 400 pictures, not very good ones I'm afraid. But here is the absolute worst picture I've ever taken, and of course, it's of someone I really dig. "Vampiro" from Jaguares, whose butt inspires lust in my otherwise pure soul, was on my flight from Mexico City! He walked passed me while getting to his seat, but slowly enough for me to think, "Damn, that scruffy guy is cute." Then I thought he looked familiar, but upon glancing at his backside I immediately recognized him. Jaguares are playing at the Anaheim HOB this weekend and somehow I missed knowing about it. Damn. Oh well, I have to work anyway. So homeboy was just sitting on the bench at LAX waiting for his ride when I took this picture. I'd have had a perfect shot of him at customs but didn't want to risk undue attention to myself (had some contraband in my luggage, nothing crazy though). So anyway, that trip ended on an exciting note.

So I came back home and found out my college roommate Katie is now a mother! Her little guy Will looks absolutely adorable. I made him a little present so hopefully I'll get to send that out tomorrow.

I'm really lazy right now and I have to go to work tonight, so I'll add a couple of pictures from my trip tomorrow.