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.