Earlier this month, the office staff attended a 2-day workshop on “Influencing Skills.” John jokes that people at my small government agency never actually get shit done. We just hold meetings or attend conferences or trainings or whatever. Pshaw, he’s one to talk. His company holds scavenger hunts and posh “team building” events and then their “business dinners” in Asia consist of getting clients shit faced at strip joints. I should also mention that at the holiday part, a freaking Board member offered $100 cash to the first person to drink the most shots at the bar. Whatev. At least my shit is still professional. For realz.

Anyhow, the training was so-so. Apparently, I’ve been communicating all wrong in my personal life. That could explain the growing-shrinking rift over the last two years. My poor communication skills and/or his workaholic schedule and unreliable promises to be home “normal time.” I suppose like most relationships, ours is a work in progress. Still, in most matters, I’m happy. Work and friends compensate for the sometimes on-off disconnect at home. So honestly, I don’t know if I’m convinced about the skills training. I don’t necessarily agree with the suggested approach. Sounds too much like running a business. Then again, sometimes I’m just rather resistant to personal change. I like how I am. 🙂

John turned 32 this month. For his birthday, I got him a couple really cute stuffed orangutans. That’s our thing now. And we adopted (co-sponsored) a baby orangutan on Orangutan Island. Kesi’s not on the tv show; she’s just a baby. Poor girl got her hand chopped off with a machete. And the fuckers killed her mother. She’s doing well now though at the Center. She’s a super star student, and Orangutan Outreach assembles really cute updates and photos. A nice touch for an NGO. I’m always collecting data points and ideas.

What else. Last weekend, John and I headed into downtown Palo Alto for dinner. Afterwards, we caught the some street performances by two college acapella groups. Totally reminded me of Duke: study breaks at the cafe or on the quad. The guys’ group was rockin’. Midnight Ramblers from the University of Rochester. They were having so much fun– smilin’, groovin’, singing their hearts out. By comparison, the Stanford women’s group was well, lame and lifeless. We left after the guys wrapped up. They put on a great show right under the Borders overhang on University Ave. Something else to research now: local acapella groups.