God, sometimes people really are just clueless. A good friend of mine was in town last weekend. She and her dude are moving to SF next month. I’m thrilled, but this last visit just really rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, aside from not being very organized about their schedule and how it affected us (for example, airport pickup/dropoff, overnight stays, city events), I was really disappointed by their general lack of common courtesy. There was no sense that crashing at our place caused any bit of inconvenience. Everything was just whatever: “Grabbing dinner” while they were in town searching for an apartment turned into can you pick us up. Then, can you DVR something. Then, can we stay the first night. Then, we might stay the last night. Then, can we get a ride to the airport.

I mean, hello, some level of prep (for John and me) is involved when people stay over: cleaning, washing, laundry, rolling out the bed, sheets, towels, etc. Flying by the seat of the pants is fine for people who are totally self-sufficient, but hey, it’s our time too. It’s fine to ask for an airport pickup, but what’s the flight info? It’s not ok to just tell me to pick up at 7:30. What if the flight is late? Duh.

And if staying with us, which days exactly? Since there was two of them, I set everything up in the office so they didn’t have to sleep on the living room couch. That meant that I pulled out the memory foam mattress and plopped it right in the middle of our office. Set out clean sheets, pillowcases, blankets, towels. It’s not as if they brought sleeping bags… The point is, the stay over itself is not a big deal. We’re all friends, so it’s fine. But what’s the schedule? Am I supposed to just have the mattress sitting there in the middle of the office waiting in case they do decide to come back?

In the end, they did return and then wanted a ride the next afternoon to the airport. John stuck around the house and made breakfast. They lounged about in a daze all morning. When he dropped them off, it was just “bye.” No “thank you for letting us stay, thank you for breakfast, thank you for shuttling us around.” And the kicker?

When I got home, all the stuff was still everywhere– the towels hung on chairs, sheets, blankets left as is, all as if the heat had come around the corner, and they just got up and left. We’re not a fucking hotel, you know? In the very least they could have folded everything up or put it in a pile or offered to help clean up. It wasn’t even like they were in a hurry that morning and wanted to clean up but didn’t have time.

When other friends of mine visited last month, the day they left, the office was clean: sheets, towels, blankets, pillowcases– all of it was taken apart and folded in a pile. Memory foam was rolled up and put to the side. Common courtesy. I mean leaving everything strewn around…. that’s how my brother would behave if he were visiting. Totally inconsiderate and clueless. And the problem isn’t simply me being my Type A self here. Even Bubs commented (before I even said anything)! People are disappointing.

Whew. Busy, busy, I tell you. BBD is something else. You see, I haven’t been sleeping well again… I’ve been having all kinds of bizarre anxiety dreams. The most disturbing one? I dreamed that I was with my BOSS, and he was cheating on me!! Yes, the boss whom I googled before my first day and I discovered icky stuff about him online. Now, just to be completely clear, I am not attracted to my boss, so I don’t know why I would dream about being his girlfriend, but whatever. Maybe one explanation could be that the night before, a couple gals from work went to happy hour. When the subject of that unflattering online post came up, my coworker said she was relieved that I’d already known. Apparently, everyone else in my department already knew about the post, but they didn’t want to “adulterate” my view of him. Anyway, I told them that scorned women were still coming out of the woodwork– that people were posting comments to the blog even as recent as last month… Anyway, the dream was ultra disturbing. He was cheating on me and then he gave me an STD. I know. Raunchy, right? I’m so so lucky to have Bubbey. BBD is the best.

Anyway, as I was saying, I’d been having some restless nights. So Memorial Day weekend was all about sleeping in. Well, new BBD had an entire itinerary planned. He wanted to get to the SF Zoo right at opening time to take pictures with his new camera. Fine. Got me up on Saturday. We were supposed to leave the house at 9. I was being pokey, so we didn’t leave the house until 9:30. Then, Bubbey got all pissy about it; I was delaying his schedule, blah, blah… I know, can you believe that shit? Well turns out, we STILL got there 15 before the gates even opened and the weather was frickin’ cold and drizzly. And half the place was “under construction,” or the animals didn’t come out. So annoying. But as the day progressed, things dried a bit, and we got some cute pics.

The remainder of the weekend was packed. Following the zoo, we went to the College of San Mateo to check out their weekly farmer’s market. I guess in part, we were researching the vendors. I’m still supposed to help Bub design labels for his jars of jam (we now have strawberry, blackberry, and pickles). We’re up to our ears in canned goods, and tomorrow I think he’s making marmalade. Energizer bunny, I tell you. The farmer’s market was good… very extensive. I’m sure we’ll go back next week.

On Sunday, I scored us some awesome, cheapie last minute tickets to Beauty and the Beast in San Jose. Yup, someone posted on Craiglist, saying “something came up” so they had four tickets available. Two hours to showtime, I called Lisa. while trying to arrange an exchange time/place, she said they would be home (“with the black BMW and white Lexus in the driveway”). They were just going to be out back in the pool.

So we drive to Los Altos, and it’s a beautiful $3 million home not far from my work. I go around back, and it’s this gorgeous green lawn: 3 pampered poodles running around and three young couples in the pool. Seriously, it was like land of the beautiful babies. Buff men and slim women in their string bikinis. Sigh. To be young (maybe just a few years older than us), rich, and beautiful. Mind you, these theater tickets were $75 a pop. And they had four. “Something just came up.” Just didn’t feel like going: wanted to chill in the pool instead. Blows my mind. But hey, I scored tickets for 1/3 the price. Mark a win for the frugal, frumpy nerd! Yay!

Bubs and I graduated from couples counseling… well, kind of. You see, since he’s been on leave of absence, we’ve had no problems. Zilch. BBD (Bubbey Belvedere) gets his shit done. He’s like the hobbyist of the century. You have no idea: photography, gardening, reading, canning… yes, the dude went to the library and got books on making jams and shit. Did you know there’s even a book out there on time off in San Francisco? It’s written specifically for people who are taking a break from work, and the guide has all kinds of tips on cutting your budget and finding cheapie deals in the city. You can bet I’ll be reading those chapters– I’m always scouting out ways to improve my game.

Anyway, last week John made four jars of blackberry jam. Today, he made a couple jars of strawberry jam. Our veggie garden out back now consists of strawberries, pumpkin, lemon, romaine lettuce, cilantro, parsley, basil, thyme, cantaloupe, watermelon, spinach… yeah, he’s going nuts with it. Some of it, we’ve been able to harvest but most of the fruit will have to wait until next year. In the meantime, we’re hitting multiple farmer’s markets in the area. Yeah, very hippie, but consider it research for when John launches his collection of jams and jellies. Don’t be surprised if he starts hocking jars at his very own table. I’m supposed to help design the labels… I’m telling you: new Bubs has a lot of energy.

So yeah, our last session with the therapist was totally bizarro. We did “sand play,” which was essentially selecting/placing a bunch of figurines into a litterbox-sized sandbox. The object was to select pieces to represent our relationship. Yeah, after she explained the activity, we looked at each other like, wtf? The exercise was just too weird. But we went along. After we were finished, she asked John to start with the explanations. “Well, this figure of two people in an embrace is us. These are our two dogs… Um this is a tray of cookies and milk…” I couldn’t help but interrupt. She doesn’t want us to identify what the figure is, we’re supposed to explain why we chose it and what it represents about our relationship. So I took over… But it was funny. And very awkward. Afterwards, I asked her what other people do for this exercise. She said she has a child client whose mother is an alcoholic. The child put a person in a bed and placed it in the corner of the box. She put a nurse standing next to the bed; then she took a cup and just kept pouring sand over the bed. Yeah, serious. And then she had a couple where the figures were at opposite corners and one of them was the Incredible Hulk.

So after that, we kind of realized that we were doing ok, you know? And after we finished explaining our relationship, the therapist busted out the POLAROID camera to take a picture of our sand play. Yeah, can you fucking believe? A Polaroid?? Hello? So we have the experience captured.

Later I offered to take the sand play apart and put all the figurines back on the shelf, but she insisted that we leave it. She would disassemble after we left. Weird, right? I mean, I get the karma thing but still.

Anyhow, the following week, I called to cancel our appointment. It was our last one anyway. Therapy definitely helped us by showing us alternative ways of communicating or working through conflicts but the sand play was just too much, so we graduated early. 🙂

Hi folks. Lots going on over here. First, I gotta say: Bubbey Belvedere rocks. Nothing like coming home to a hot home-cooked meal. And I always have leftovers for lunch the next day. I might have to start watching my intake actually, because as my friend Fonda exclaimed, I’ve “gain a lot of weight. A LOT.”

Mind you, she tells me this practically every single time I see her, and it is sort of an Asian ideal to be wafer thin… Seriously, I’m about 5 lbs. heavier than when I first arrived two years ago. Wup dee doo. I mean, sure, after watching all these damn dance shows on tv, I suppose sacrifices could be made if I really want to attain the “dancer’s body,” as Bubs and I term it. Whatever though. I’m not losing sleep over it, because at this point, with hip hop, rollerblading (at lunch now), AND swimming (the pools is finally heated now), it’s all good.

In other news, Bubs and I had a fun little project in the kitchen recently. I was reading the May issue of Ladies Home Journal (Yes, totally a magazine for someone three decades my senior but hey, it’s free so I read it). Anyway, there was this crazy article about creature cupcakes, with recipes to make cupcakes that look like penguins and horses and pandas and shit. It was so insane. And just to prove my point, I showed Bubbey. Next thing I know, we’re at the supermarket getting all the ingredients to make these things. Needless to say, it was an entertaining evening. Of course, in typical fashion, I made some substitutions here and there. Specifically, I opted for milk chocolate instead of dark chocolate frosting. And well, I went without food coloring. Budget cuts, you know. We had fun, but it was still a bit frustrating. As my hip hop class has taught me, I hate sucking at stuff. To make matters worse, the next day my artistic, former-landscape architect of a friend Tina came over to show us up. Just to give you an idea of the craziness we’re dealing with here, I included shots of cupcakes made by the pros. You can also guess which creations are Tina’s. Enjoy.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, holy shit there’s some crazy natural disasters going down. First cyclones in Burma, then tornadoes in the US, now a massive quake in China. Please consider supporting relief efforts through donations. A few of my favs:
Oxfam America
Care
Doctors Without Borders (Medecins Sans Frontieres)

John and I had our first official visitors this past weekend. Pamela and Joey came up from the OC. Four days– chock full of activities. Well, I tried hard to restrain myself– I didn’t want to turn into a total vacation taskmaster (like my father), so I just focused on the essentials. I think I covered them adequately.

I really enjoyed having them in town. It was just so comfortable to be amongst dear friends. We went to a comedy show, did Alcatraz, hiked through Muir Woods, checked out some wineries in Santa Cruz– yeah, we went up and down the peninsula. All the while, we stuffed our faces with good food and delicious nougat (my newest love). And like me, Pamela loves the hot tub. Oh, it was terrific having a buddy around. Not that Bubbey isn’t a good companion; it’s just that he sometimes prefers to do other things…

We didn’t take enough pics (I’m still averse to photographs) but here are a few anyhow.

Damn. Mid May already. Well, a lot of drama over here… despite Bubbey and I seeing the therapist together and fleshing out the todo list details, things earlier this month just were not going well. The migraines and panic attacks were returning, and he was back in front of the tv all night every night. Once again, I was at wit’s end.

Then, he bit the bullet. May 5: Bubbey took an indefinite leave of absence. And let me tell you, it’s been a world of difference ever since. Seriously, in the days immediately following, he is like I have never seen him before.

While I’m at work, he’s reading, gardening, working out, shooting pictures, making dinner… he’s actually giving me a pretty good run for my money. (After all, I’m supposed to be the OCD busy bee!)

The first few days, when I got home from work, he had dinner ready plus he showed me a list of tasks he’d completed that day. At night, he sleeps very soundly– exhausted from all his activities. But I’m really thrilled that he is getting back to basics, doing things he enjoys, learning new hobbies, etc. He seems so much happier. And of course, I really like having my very own Mr. Belvedere. He even researches activities for the upcoming weekend… Now he’s MY personal assistant.

Last but not least, I’m now the breadwinner! Hurray, my feminist dream finally comes true! Gotta love it.

Oh. My. God. My dancing is horrendous! I have the routine pretty much down but holy shit. I look like a drowning woman flailing my arms in distress. And of course, just as I get all the steps memorized, teach introduces a new routine. And I thought my old moves were bad. The new ones? Wtf?

You know, in the beginning– the way beginning– I was optimistic about hip hop. Now? Screw it. I’m doomed. I was so tired after today’s class, by the time I got home (like five minutes later), I’d totally forgotten the new routine. I remembered the first four steps and after that, total blank. No fucking clue. Not even a smidgen of an inkling. Lame.

And when she showed us the new choreography, there was this, well, I would describe it like a fencing or sword fighting-type of motion. So she was doing it, and everyone was following along and then, teach saw me in the mirror and the women stopped what she was doing and started laughing. Yes! I’m that bad! And the girl next to me had to stop because she was cracking up at me too. So embarrassing. Jesus. How many more sessions are left? Countdown to the end of my weekly humiliation. Gotta make it to mid June. Unbelievable. And to think I even considered enrolling in the summer sessions… way in over my head.

The crappy thing is, if I limit my activities to things I’m good at, that leaves rollerblading and um rollerblading. Yeah, I was ok at bouldering and horseback riding, but those activities are too damn involved. Too many props. Man, I’m screwed.

Oh well, at least I burned off the ice cream and challah bread from earlier today.

Btw, I need to get me some decent sweatpants. I don’t know what it is, but I look like a total schlump in my class. And I’m actually one of the more fit people in there. Tina says my gray sweatpants are way too big: she says they make me look like a fiddle. So tonight I wore my shorts instead, but those turned out to be too damn short, especially when we were bending over doing warm-ups. Ugh. I know, I have issues! Need to take care of this shit before next class. Btw, the class is no longer a safe haven for women. Some dude started coming. The only relief I get out of it is that he moves even more stiffly than I, so at least I’m not TOTAL bottom of the barrel. 🙂

I did hit the local Target tonight for the sweatpants. Who knew this would be such a goddamn chore? Nuthin’ at Target. Not a damn thing. I did manage to try on six non-athletic garments, but they all looked like crap. I nearly walked out of there empty-handed but then I got sucked into the Mother’s Days cards. Papyrus has some beautiful, decorative ones but holy shit: $7 a card! And yes, I bought three of them (one for Noorie James). Well I figure if I’m not going to buy gifts, I might as well splurge on kickass cards. Hate all that mushy language though. Thankfully the ones I bought keep things short and simple.

Damn I’m tired. I’m certainly not one to complain (yeah right) but jesus, sometimes I just feel so fatigued. I returned to the office on Monday fresh after our trip to Maryland, but I felt really stressed– a bit overwhelmed even. Granted, before I left, my boss said he didn’t think there was anything pressing (great… how’s that for job security) but still: I’d been out practically all last week, and my todo list didn’t shrink much.

Then I was a little concerned about how I’d mark the time on my timecard. Was it bereavement? Could I use sick time? Would I have to eat into my vacation (I prefer to stockpile)? All these questions, and then we just got a new general manager so there was some tension associated with that. I know, my boss is as easy as they come, so I really need to just chill with this self-imposed stress. Fortunately, I’m making good progress this week, and in fact today, much to my surprise, HR said I could mark 24 regular hours (paid) for bereavement plus take the remaining 8 hours as sick. What a sympathetic, nice policy. See? Government isn’t all bad, especially not here in Cali. Hehe.

The weather’s been super windy lately. John and I had our third therapy session last night. I swear, I am so irked at the beginning of our sessions. You see, her office building locks after 7pm, so either the previous client is supposed to let us in on her way out (NEVER happens) or we’re supposed to call. So we always arrive right on time, but whenever I call, I go straight to her voice mail. So fucking annoying. Meanwhile, we’re freezing our asses off in gale-force winds. I know, manage the anger, manage the anger. Still. Pisses the shit out of me. Then, I tried to get her to move up our appointment so the doors will still be unlocked when we go, but she’s booked. Fuckin’ A. Well I guess my employee assistance program benefits only cover another three sessions, so either we’ll be done soon (I think we got all our issues resolved now; it’s just a matter of implementing ;)) or I’ll have to suffer through the annoyance another three times. Can you tell I’m so much more patient now? Anyway, Linda seems fairly knowledgeable and book-smart. She teaches me things I don’t know like about the parent, adult, and child that’s supposedly in every person. I appreciate that she is candid and asks tough questions. But I don’t know. The session seems to move so slowly. I want info and solutions– stat!

This week John and I are supposed to compile our list of tasks and then identify/assign the “essentials.” And then I’m supposed to let go of the nonessentials. Whatever. To me, “letting go” just means I’ll do it because really, there’s no reason why it can’t all be completed, especially since we do not have kids. Sigh. The uneven distribution of household labor– when is this ever going to STOP being an issue with couples?

Thank goodness tomorrow is dance class. I hope the teach kicks my ass into gear. I need to sweat all this negative energy out. Regain some bounce. After all, the weekend’s right around the corner and my buddy Pamela is coming to visit next Thursday! Chop, chop. Got to get the house cleaned up.

A couple weeks ago, I skipped hip hop class to check out Odd Couple at the adorable Broadway West Theater. It was a fun night out with Tina and my Fremont peeps, plus I finally got to meet Joe’s woman, Jessica. He’d been yammering on and on about her (remember the Salad Years when everything was so perfect and lovely through those rose-colored glasses?), so it was nice to finally meet Miss Perfect (that’s what John calls her). Unfortunately, I didn’t get to chat with her for long, but she seemed sweet and smart and beautiful… all the things Joe said she was. So cute.

So the following week, I went to dance class. I kept adequate pace since I’d memorized all the steps up to the new ones… but my god, I really suck. I mean, seriously. And to think I used to do ballet and Chinese dance? There isn’t an ounce of cred to my movements. I keep eyeing the teach, watching her every step but my body just does not funk like that, you know? So frustrating. I mean, yes it’s entertaining and I can’t help but laugh, but at the same time, it’s pissing off the OCD side of me. So first there was the wobbly knees-crab movement– two steps to the right, two steps to the left coupled with this hand around the back of the head motion. Then the following week, it was robocop or whatever she calls it: this rocking motion. Shit. I need to download tutorials on YouTube or something. Last time we also did this step thingy with the stomping and slapping but damn… the bottom line is that I really suck. Sigh. How many more classes are left?

John and I are back in Maryland this week. My dear friend’s father passed away… mother and daughter are doing ok, as well as could be expected. His health had declined rapidly in recent years but as with all the other times, we’d expected him to pull through. The funeral was really touching. So many people spoke: they told such vivid and humorous stories. One of his kidney transplant patients even drove down from New Jersey. God. Medicine just touches people in such a profound way. Patients, healthcare… people complain about how it’s turned to shit, shuffling patients through like cattle and wading through all the paperwork but frankly, I don’t think there’s any profession (in its purest form) nobler than practicing medicine.