Freudian

After misspelling it 8 times in a memo, it's safe to say that I can't even spell the word compatibility.

This explains so much.

55 Fiction Friday: Gymrat edition

Friday breaks a sweat.

"Don't call it a comeback – I been here for years!" LLCoolJ rapped in her ear as her left heel hit the deck of the treadmill. Rolling through the ball of her foot, pushing off the toe, she felt her pulse in her temples and could hear her own ragged breathing - a meditation in stationary motion.

Magnetism

Growing up, my mother could never keep a watch. Inevitably, they'd stop, and no amount of service or new batteries could convince them to continue scrolling through the minutes and hours. It became a family joke that my mother is magnetic.

Now, after rendering two iPods inoperable within 48 hours, I think that this may be a trait that she passed on to me. This idea is supported my ghastly track record with laptops. I remind you of the Great Laptop Fire of 2004 (one week before my law review student note was due, and -coincidentally - on my birthday), as well as the class-action laptop, and let's not forget the "I was purchased special for the Bar exam, but I think I'll break within the first month anyway" Dell.

I kind of like it - the idea that some aspect of my personality is bewitching to the orderly 1s and 0s. That maybe somewhere between source and object code, the poor things just plain get flummoxed by my proximity. I guess I can stop traffic, in my own way.

Taxi ride to hell

brimful's recent misadventure in a cab reminded me of my worst cab ride EVER (and this is saying something: I was once in a cab in Quebec City when the cabbie pulled on to the shoulder of the highway and threw it into reverse for about a 1/2 mile because he'd missed the exit.)

I was in Toronto for a college friend's wedding and stayed in a lovely B&B in Cabbagetown. (If you're ever in the YYZ, I recommend Banting House.) Unfortunately for me, World Youth Day was also in town. World Youth Day is a bit of a misnomer - apparently, it's really when ginormous groups of Catholic kids and 'utes' descend on a city. And then the Pope comes, and everyone is happy. Except those of us who are trying to get to the airport at the same time as the teeming hordes that showed up for World Youth Day.

The proprietors of my B&B suggested hiring a car, and made all the arrangements. When the car arrived, I knew I was screwed - the driver was Pakistani. Because it was a hired car, he knew my first name and felt the need to use it. A lot. As in, "You're very quiet today, [maisnon]" Um, what?! That's something you can say when you actually know someone.

The highlight, though, was this:

Cabbie from Hell: So. What is the meaning of [first name]?
maisnon: (internally: WTF, anyone from the subcontinent knows what it means!)
maisnon: (out loud) It means light
CFH: That's RIGHT!
maisnon (internally: Dude, did you just QUIZ me on the meaning of my own name??)
CFH: So.....are you A LIGHT for anyone??????
maisnon (internally: seethe seethe seethe. I can't believe I'm dealing with cheesy pick-up lines AND I'm paying for the privilege!)

Prior to this incident, I never lied about my marital status. After this incident, I'll admit - I've lied when it seemed the less painful thing to do.

Weekend Update

Cosmopolitan Friday:

Roopali and I headed into the city to attend a "corporate appreciation" night at the SFMOMA. Membership has its privileges, but apparently they don't include food! The lobby had been turned into a party space, with conversation areas, a few bars, and standing-height tables. Once we realized the whole museum was open, we skipped that scene and took to the stairs. Imagine wandering around, checking out the art, occasionally running into coworkers ... all with a dance club beat soundtrack. It was amazing, and a little surreal.

The art I saw was by turns thought-provoking, beautiful, disturbing, and magical. I walked inside a giant kaleidoscope, saw some Frida Kahlo's wedding painting, and pondered a tryptich of giant white canvases.

Harem Saturday:

This was the weekend of Roop, apparently. We headed into the city for dinner to meet up with Roopali's friend, the Cowboy, and some of his friends at Medjool. All together, we were a table of 5 chiquitas and one very secure guy. The decor was nouveau-Maghreb. As everyone promised, the food was a-mah-zing! We shared all kinds of Middle Eastern/Southern-European tapas. There is such an intimacy in sharing food. The conversation was free-wheeling, and needless to say - the Cowboy was the envy of quite a few other diners. Towards the end of our late dinner, Medjool was becoming more club than restaurant (read: the music was very fun, but VERY loud), so we adjourned to Levende Lounge. (I had my birthday party here last week - that post coming soon, promise.)

I've been to Levende three times and had a very different experience every time. This time, the bar was practically empty - as a misanthrope, that was just fine with me. When even the pina colada makes you close one eye, you know that the bartender is a heavy pour. I will say - that is one thing that I have found every time I've been there.

Left at Albquerque Sunday:

In celebration of Chinese New Year, back into the city went I. After many, many wrong turns, I finally found the Muslim parking garage and rendez-voused with SJM. We headed to the Inner Richmond for some dim sum and window shopping. We were in and out of a lot of tiny Chinese "everything" shops. I think I could be obsessed with plates - there were just so many, and in such a variety of colors and designs. I managed to resist by chanting "but I don't really need them." Okay, that didn't work. I ended up promising myself that I'd get them next time. A capacity for self-delusion is a beautiful thing.

I headed home happy, if tired. Kung hei fat choi, y'all

Quatre

Thanks, Heather.

Four jobs I have had:

• All-arounder at The International Centre. I loved this job - I knew every international student on campus!
• Temp in Judicial chambers, Fairfax County Circuit Court. This is where my interest in "the law" began. I temped here during the summer before my last year of college. I remember thinking, "too bad you have to go to law school to be an attorney - I will never do another degree!"
• My stint in retail: I worked in a Minnesota Fabrics store (now known as Hancock Fabrics . )
• software engineer/application developer/etc. etc. - translation: code monkey. This is the illustrious career I had before the harebrained scheme (i.e. to go to law school.)
  

Four movies I could watch over and over:

• Lost in Translation
• Muriel's Wedding
• Frida
• Matrix, The

Four places I've lived:

• Kingston, Ontario
• Northern Virginia (McLean, Fairfax, and Falls Church)
• St. Genis-Pouilly (France)
• Palo Alto, CA (when I was a super-wee kid, and again when I was a summer associate.)

Four TV shows I love to watch: (keeping in mind that I don't have a TV)

• Northern Exposure
• Sex and the City (or as my friend's mom (Indian) calls it "City Sluts.")
• Six Feet Under
• 24

Four places I've been on vacation:

• Portugal
• Australia
• Spain
• Thailand
  

Four of my favorite foods:

• sushi
• Massamun curry
• soup (comfort food for me)
• breakfast, generally. I feel like I'm getting away with something when I have breakfast for dinner.

Four places I'd rather be right now:

• Venice. I've seen quite a few movies that take place and/or have scenes in Venice. Now, I feel a hankerin'.
• Hawaii. I've never been! Now that I live on the west coast, I think it's much more likely that I'll go.
• Costa Rica. I had hoped and planned to go to language school in CR, and I will make it happen! I didn't buy Lonely Planet: Costa Rica for nothing!
• Malaysia. I miss the fam.

Four sites I visit daily:

• Bloglines
• Gmail
• washingtonpost.com
• Netflix

Four Bloggers I am tagging:

• brimful
• J-money
• wt
• ANNA
  

the Mogwai

Based on Saturday night's festivities (more to come), Roop and I just coined a new term.

Gremlin (noun or verb) - that tendency of friends, usually male, to pull abrupt personality shifts from charming/witty/humorous to "not so much" after consuming 3 or more alcoholic drinks.

Ex.:

Dude, after the tequila shot, he pure gremlined and was hitting on every woman in the bar.

He's usually so upbeat and fun to talk to, but he turns into a gremlin and becomes a total conspiracy theorist if he hits the sauce.

55 Fiction Friday: Shopaholic edition

Friday, and I need (retail) therapy.

She flipped through the clothing rack idly. Hmmm, not her style [flip flip] looked cheap {flip flip] too low-rise equals too much information [flip flip] Dear god, pegged pants! [flip flip] Gauchos? Like THAT was a good fashion trend?! [flip flip] Ooh, these were nice…and in her price range. And look, "extra-cranky" – just her size!

House of Yes

I was intrigued by a review of The Year of Yes , by Maria Dahvana Headley (hat tip to Marginal Revolution):

When Idaho-born Headley, a 20-year-old NYU drama student, laments, "I felt like
I'd dated and then hated every man in Manhattan," she thinks perhaps she's too
critical. So she "decided that I would say yes to every man who asked me out on
a date." It sounds disastrous, even scary, though she chose to exclude the
drunk, the drugged, the violent, and cheating husbands.¹

Not to worry, I have no intention of implementing the same strategy in my (non)dating life. I'm more interested in the idea of challenging the definitions I have of "this is what I like/want." I'm still the number one draft pick when it comes to being spontaneous, but I don't think that I have worked outside of my comfort zone as much as I used to. Part of the post-college years is definitely figuring out what you like and setting up rules, but now - I want to challenge them and try things that I say I hate.

I've come up with various ideas to implement this new strategery:

• Go to a steakhouse. I haven't had beef in .... 17 years. I don't think I can actually eat a steak (it might kill me.) But maybe I can have a little piece of someone else's.
• Buy a TV. I haven't owned my own, um, ever. My friends jokingly refer to me as a Luddite, and that's at least partially true.
• Pick a random upcoming concert in a genre I wouldn't usually consider, listen to the artist's music beforehand and go.
• Hang out in the Marina on a Sunday (soooooo not who I consider my peeps.)
• Choose a random sport and start taking lessons or playing. (Bowling? Hawaiian outrigger canoe?)

I'm just thinking out blog here, but the basic idea is for me to say 'Yes' more often to things I think that I don't enjoy. Actually, perhaps it is broader than that - maybe it is more like becoming more open to new and (as a friend would say) "different different" experiences.

¹Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Yo, Alexander - I feel you, dawg.

I have to say, yesterday was pretty much the suck. My secretary didn't remember that it was my birthday, which is a problem because she is in charge of the cake and (more importantly) the email that says, "It is so-and-so's bday, join us for cake." While I'm all about cake (cake!!), the point is that the email alerts everyone you work with to back off a little. No cake, no email means the peeps are not on notice.

At one point during the day, I was in a meeting in my office, being purposefully late for another meeting (this was my last opportunity this week to talk to the person in my office), and keeping an eye on the phone because I hadn't found time to call an attorney in Kansas. When I got out of the second meeting, it was 7 pm. Nice.

The ever-sweet brimful had sent out an eVite update to the peeps doin' it up with me on Saturday with some changes, and noting that it was my birthday. After the email, I received voicemail from two of my closest friends who really should have known better.

I've written and rewritten this part, and I think I have it down to two things: (1) because I'm laid-back about most things, I sometimes feel that people take me for granted and/or I don't end up getting what I want, (2) do not bullshit me.

Example for point (1): I ended a friendship with a woman who refused to eat "ethnic" food. She said that it affected her stomach, and I was sympathetic at first, but I really can't stand having "American" food all the time. If you can eat a burger and fries with impunity, you can find something on a Thai, Indian, Mexican, etc. menu that you can eat without ill effects. Her insistence became emblematic of narrow-mindedness, and the idea that her wishes were more important than mine.

On point (2), I really don't care if a friend forgets my birthday, but don't insult my intelligence by telling me that you "didn't have a chance to catch me at work." If that's actually what happened, you would have just emailed me - like everyone else. Sending me a voicemail after b's announcement is rather telling. This is the second time that this friend has ventured into bullshit, so I'm not feeling very generous.

I feel bad for feeling bad. No one (I know) died. It's not as bad as my 16th birthday (Persian Gulf War, anyone?) It could have been much, much worse - but feeling guilty about feeling bad still feels bad.

Amiga saved me from crying into my Tom Yam: we met at one of my favorite Thai restaurants in Palo Alto. You know how much I love the Thai. Then, the night just got sweeter - brimful and Roopali met me at the Cheesecake Factory for the Cheesecake. A great end to a bad day.