So now I'm sitting at LAX, five and a half hours into a seven hour layover on the way home from Singapore to Austin. I have to say, last fall, when I was in Paris/Rome, it was fun and neat and cool and all that, but Singapore was way better. It's soooo different. I was sad to leave.
But I did. And the experience of leaving, like the experience of being there, is worth mentioning, but for all together different reasons.
I flew first class on the way home, not because my company allows me to, but there was no business class available, and so our policy is to bump a person up to first class. So, right, first class.
I sat in the center at the VERY FRONT of the 747 we were on. Well, actually, there were two more seats in front of me, but the point is that I've never flown that close to the front of a 747, you know, where it narrows to the nose of the plane. Up and over from me, next to the window was another seat, occupied by a cartoonish looking, sloppy, flabby Japanese guy with thick lips and glasses. He literally looked silly. But as he got on board, he surveyed first class as though he owned the joint. In short, he was hard to miss as it was, nevermind what came later. But we'll get to that in a second.
My seatmate, on the other side of a burled wood divider, was an awesome South African woman. She was 76 years old, incredibly well-traveled, sharp as a tack, genuinely, wonderfully nice. She was on her way to Tokyo (we had a stop in Tokyo en route to LA) to visit her son and attend his wedding. He's marrying a Chinese girl in Shenyang, China in mid-July. So this woman took it upon herself to spend the last six months learning Mandarin. Reminder: she's 76. She was fucking delightful. We exchanged numbers and emails before landing in Tokyo. But what got us talking in the first place was the Japanese dude I mentioned. He no sooner got on the plane than he fell asleep. And he SNORED. No, no, no, not what you're thinking. We've all heard "snoring." This guy had mastered it. It was a fucking art form. Remember when you were little and you'd watch Tom and Jerry or Bugs Bunny or whatever, and they'd show the characters sleeping and they'd be snoring, you know, really loudly? Yeah, those cartoon characters had NOTHING on this guy. My South African friend leaned over to me and said (I quote), "My God, I've never heard anything like that. It's worse than any children's cartoon." The flight attendants APOLOGIZED for him. It was THAT BAD (can you tell from my use of allcaps??). Even better (well, worse, actually), he talked--strike that--shouted in his sleep. In Japanese. The flight from Singapore to Tokyo was seven hours in duration. He slept and snored and shouted THE WHOLE TIME. Mind you, we were served food (oh wow, the food is whole other post--freakin' awesome), a six or seven course meal in first class, and I watched this guy fall asleep literally while he was chewing (on a shrimp, to be precise).
One of "my" flight attendants (there are three assigned to first class, and they all know your name) offered me refill after refill on my wine, and another offered me earplugs. The third confided to me that all of them were beyond annoyed with Takashima-san (that's what I named him). I finally, fell asleep, ear plugs and excess wine be blessed.
As we were prepping for landing, one of the flight attendants brought Takashima-san his jacket from the closet. I was, like, woohoo! he's getting off at Tokyo and I won't have to deal with him on the way to LA. Unfortunately, all of us had to get off the plane at Tokyo--I'm still not sure why--and reboard about an hour later. And Takashima-san reboarded with me. God DAMN it!
So by now (i.e. as I sit in LA reflecting on it) I'm figuring Takashima-san either took some Dramamine--which will totally knock you on your ass--or else, like, two or three Ambien. Why do I think it was two or three Ambien? Because, while on the Tokyo to LA leg of our flight, he repeated the exact same fall-asleep-while-eating-(leaving-your-hand-actually-IN-your-food)-behavior as before, and while he was at it, he added an extra special dose of SNORE-AS-LOUD-AS-YOU-POSSIBLY-CAN-AND-MAKE-IT-MYTHICAL-WHILE-YOU'RE-AT-IT-SO-AS-TO-OUTDO-ANYTHING-YOU-HAD-DONE-ON-THE-PREVIOUS-FLIGHT-LEG-OR-MAYBE-EVER-IN-YOUR-LIFE...I mean, you can't do what this guy was doing, which was in the utterly amazing realm of sleeping while also completing your tax return and eating popcorn, all at once, without being on some sort of drug.
Nevertheless, I slept. Again, literally, wine and ear plugs be blessed.
And now I must fly home, at last, to Austin.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
A Final Singapore Update
Yesterday, or whatever day it was, because I’m all jacked up with my time zones—Friday, is what I’m trying to say—I wandered around Singapore. Here are some observations.
1) If I have to smell raw, rotting or cured pork again anytime soon, I'll puke.
2) I'm pretty good with the chopsticks, I can even eat soup with them, sort of.
3) Little India is something else--the smells are what got me. Incense, curry and pork (!). I bought a shawl and two sarongs at a sari shop. They’re gorgeous, but they smell like incense, curry and pork. I will be airing them out when I get home.
4) Chinatown was amazing. I bought Christmas gifts there, but the experience of walking through there was really cool and so different from Little India.
5) I have the Singapore subway system nailed.
6) I went to a Catholic church, a Hindu temple and a Buddhist temple, all in the same day.
7) The Buddhist temple was amazing. The monks were chanting and the colors inside were remarkable and vibrant and it smelled like incense. I loved it. I placed an orchid in front of one of the altars. Doing so is supposed to help me in my interpersonal relationships. :)
8) The Black Knights, which are the stunt fliers in the Singaporean air force, put on a show out of nowhere yesterday afternoon. I've never seen an airshow like that, it was cool. Everyone stopped what they were doing and took out their cameras (it was while I was in Chinatown).
9) Asian babies have to be the cutest babies in the world.
10) I went to the Long Bar at the Raffles Hotel, because you're supposed to. I sat there and had my obligatory Singapore Sling (they were invented there) and ate (very tiny) peanuts and threw the shells on the floor, again, because you're supposed to. SGD30.00 later (USD20.00?!!), I can tell you that it was probably the least enjoyable part of my day, though the drink itself was very refreshing.
11) I went "shopping" on Orchard Road. It's the annual Singapore Sale, where everything in Singapore at nearly every store goes on sale for 2 full months, as much as 70% off. I figured I'd hit Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Burberry and Tod's to see what kind of deal I could score on a bag. Yeah, so, I still have my little Coach purse. The biggest “bargain” I found was an ugly-ass Burberry bag for $800. Whatever. I also found shoe nirvana, but I can get as good a deal back home when Nordstrom has a sale. Oh well.
12) I am amazed at how alike we all are as people. During my two days of meetings at the office, I literally forgot that two of the people there were from Australia. We all knew about the same things, we all used more or less the same expressions, we'd all had pretty similar experiences, we're all in a gas crunch and an economic crunch and a housing crunch. We all run and/or do triathlons, come to find out. And from a business perspective--without having spoken to one another at all prior to this week about it--we all use exactly the same approach with clients with respect to working with them on policies and process. And that was just the EY people. Even when you speak a different language, a baby waving bye-bye and blowing kisses means the same thing and is just as cute. People all have moms and dads. They're all looking for happiness, they're all generally nice, or want to be, and they appreciate a smile or a thank you. Everyone seems to want to help everyone else. Everyone laughs. People come together over food. And there were a host of other things I observed, too. The one big difference between Asians and me is that Asians don't sweat, I swear to God! The office was 5 mins. walking from the hotel, and both mornings I was literally dripping with sweat. Asians? Nope. I don't get it.
13) I wore a cotton skirt and a camisole and flip flops, with my hair in a ponytail as I wandered around town on Friday. It wasn't as hot as it's been (or maybe it was and I'm just getting used to it), but even so, I was "glowing" everywhere I walked--and I walked everywhere! But by the end of the day, I didn't really mind. I just sort of came to accept that it's constantly damp, and in a way, it kind of felt nice. It was an odd sensation, hard to describe. It might have been because so much of my skin was exposed to the air, it kind of felt like a bath in a way, the air was very soft and warm, if that makes any sense. Anyway, I think I'd go nuts if I had to deal with it every day, but on Friday I just took it in stride as part of the experience.
14) I'm dying for a 'rita and some Tex-Mex!!!!!
1) If I have to smell raw, rotting or cured pork again anytime soon, I'll puke.
2) I'm pretty good with the chopsticks, I can even eat soup with them, sort of.
3) Little India is something else--the smells are what got me. Incense, curry and pork (!). I bought a shawl and two sarongs at a sari shop. They’re gorgeous, but they smell like incense, curry and pork. I will be airing them out when I get home.
4) Chinatown was amazing. I bought Christmas gifts there, but the experience of walking through there was really cool and so different from Little India.
5) I have the Singapore subway system nailed.
6) I went to a Catholic church, a Hindu temple and a Buddhist temple, all in the same day.
7) The Buddhist temple was amazing. The monks were chanting and the colors inside were remarkable and vibrant and it smelled like incense. I loved it. I placed an orchid in front of one of the altars. Doing so is supposed to help me in my interpersonal relationships. :)
8) The Black Knights, which are the stunt fliers in the Singaporean air force, put on a show out of nowhere yesterday afternoon. I've never seen an airshow like that, it was cool. Everyone stopped what they were doing and took out their cameras (it was while I was in Chinatown).
9) Asian babies have to be the cutest babies in the world.
10) I went to the Long Bar at the Raffles Hotel, because you're supposed to. I sat there and had my obligatory Singapore Sling (they were invented there) and ate (very tiny) peanuts and threw the shells on the floor, again, because you're supposed to. SGD30.00 later (USD20.00?!!), I can tell you that it was probably the least enjoyable part of my day, though the drink itself was very refreshing.
11) I went "shopping" on Orchard Road. It's the annual Singapore Sale, where everything in Singapore at nearly every store goes on sale for 2 full months, as much as 70% off. I figured I'd hit Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Burberry and Tod's to see what kind of deal I could score on a bag. Yeah, so, I still have my little Coach purse. The biggest “bargain” I found was an ugly-ass Burberry bag for $800. Whatever. I also found shoe nirvana, but I can get as good a deal back home when Nordstrom has a sale. Oh well.
12) I am amazed at how alike we all are as people. During my two days of meetings at the office, I literally forgot that two of the people there were from Australia. We all knew about the same things, we all used more or less the same expressions, we'd all had pretty similar experiences, we're all in a gas crunch and an economic crunch and a housing crunch. We all run and/or do triathlons, come to find out. And from a business perspective--without having spoken to one another at all prior to this week about it--we all use exactly the same approach with clients with respect to working with them on policies and process. And that was just the EY people. Even when you speak a different language, a baby waving bye-bye and blowing kisses means the same thing and is just as cute. People all have moms and dads. They're all looking for happiness, they're all generally nice, or want to be, and they appreciate a smile or a thank you. Everyone seems to want to help everyone else. Everyone laughs. People come together over food. And there were a host of other things I observed, too. The one big difference between Asians and me is that Asians don't sweat, I swear to God! The office was 5 mins. walking from the hotel, and both mornings I was literally dripping with sweat. Asians? Nope. I don't get it.
13) I wore a cotton skirt and a camisole and flip flops, with my hair in a ponytail as I wandered around town on Friday. It wasn't as hot as it's been (or maybe it was and I'm just getting used to it), but even so, I was "glowing" everywhere I walked--and I walked everywhere! But by the end of the day, I didn't really mind. I just sort of came to accept that it's constantly damp, and in a way, it kind of felt nice. It was an odd sensation, hard to describe. It might have been because so much of my skin was exposed to the air, it kind of felt like a bath in a way, the air was very soft and warm, if that makes any sense. Anyway, I think I'd go nuts if I had to deal with it every day, but on Friday I just took it in stride as part of the experience.
14) I'm dying for a 'rita and some Tex-Mex!!!!!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Singapore Update #4.5
Minibar update...
Have moved on to Asahi Draft Beer, from Japan. Much lighter initially than Tiger, but has an aftertaste like capers. I don't mind, it being that I enjoy capers very much (in fact, I relish them). It's just sort of a strange aftertaste for beer.
Have moved on to Asahi Draft Beer, from Japan. Much lighter initially than Tiger, but has an aftertaste like capers. I don't mind, it being that I enjoy capers very much (in fact, I relish them). It's just sort of a strange aftertaste for beer.
Singapore Update #4
People are downstairs in the lobby having afternoon tea, complete with biscuits and finger sandwiches. Asian people having afternoon tea, English style. I've never seen that before.
The duck farting machine continues to come on and go off at odd intervals. Even so, I managed a 2.5 hour nap.
It's not even humid, it's beyond humid. It's damp. No, it's beyond damp. It's just wet. The cover on my Frommer's guide to Southeast Asia is curling up. It would be better if it would just go ahead and rain in my room.
I just cracked open a Tiger beer from the minibar. I figure, hey, it's 3:30 in the afternoon, and I'm kind of sort of on vacation today. Why not? Right, like I've EVER needed an excuse to drink beer. Anyhoo, it's tolerable. I won't be buying a six pack anytime soon, but when in Rome...
I have nightstands on both sides of my (very comfy but damp) bed. I checked the drawers of both, and I am happy to report that the Gideons have managed to place a bible way the hell and gone over here. In the other drawer is a Buddhist prayer book. Take that, Gideons! I think I'll spend a little time with the Buddhist thing and get my zen on.
I learned how Singapore got its name. It comes from the Sanskrit for Lion (Singa) City (Pura). So, Singapura. The details date back to the 11th century, but I don't feel like relaying them right now. Maybe later, after a few more hits on the minibar. I need to be good and sloshed for my 8 p.m. conference call with the U.S. Fucking Americans.
The duck farting machine continues to come on and go off at odd intervals. Even so, I managed a 2.5 hour nap.
It's not even humid, it's beyond humid. It's damp. No, it's beyond damp. It's just wet. The cover on my Frommer's guide to Southeast Asia is curling up. It would be better if it would just go ahead and rain in my room.
I just cracked open a Tiger beer from the minibar. I figure, hey, it's 3:30 in the afternoon, and I'm kind of sort of on vacation today. Why not? Right, like I've EVER needed an excuse to drink beer. Anyhoo, it's tolerable. I won't be buying a six pack anytime soon, but when in Rome...
I have nightstands on both sides of my (very comfy but damp) bed. I checked the drawers of both, and I am happy to report that the Gideons have managed to place a bible way the hell and gone over here. In the other drawer is a Buddhist prayer book. Take that, Gideons! I think I'll spend a little time with the Buddhist thing and get my zen on.
I learned how Singapore got its name. It comes from the Sanskrit for Lion (Singa) City (Pura). So, Singapura. The details date back to the 11th century, but I don't feel like relaying them right now. Maybe later, after a few more hits on the minibar. I need to be good and sloshed for my 8 p.m. conference call with the U.S. Fucking Americans.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Singapore Update #3
I'm chewing gum. In the 45 minutes that have passed since I popped two pieces of Trident White (peppermint flavor), I've been cranking. Gum is good. Gum is illegal. I'm enjoying this.
Anyway, I figured I'd take a moment to provide a link to the hotel I'm staying at. This is for sure one of the nicest hotels my company has ever put me up in. It's called the Fullerton Hotel, and it's on the Singapore River (yeah, I didn't know they had a river, either) just above where it empties into the harbor. I'd take a picture of some stuff around here and post it, but my crackberry doesn't work here, and I forgot to bring the little cord that allows me to download pictures off my digital camera onto my computer.
Anyway, I figured I'd take a moment to provide a link to the hotel I'm staying at. This is for sure one of the nicest hotels my company has ever put me up in. It's called the Fullerton Hotel, and it's on the Singapore River (yeah, I didn't know they had a river, either) just above where it empties into the harbor. I'd take a picture of some stuff around here and post it, but my crackberry doesn't work here, and I forgot to bring the little cord that allows me to download pictures off my digital camera onto my computer.
Singapore Update #2
I want to chew gum and spit. I'd also like to tag a few buildings and traffic drugs. These are all illegal activities here. The desire to chew gum and to spit is almost overwhelming. The fact that you can get your feet caned for defacing public property with graffiti and that drug trafficking is punishable by death, no exceptions, makes it only too enticing to do both, even though these are things I would never think to do at home.
Why? Danger. Rebellion. Giving the finger to The Man.
It's also humid. Everything feels damp. I am obsessing over how damp I feel. This may make me crazy enough to litter before the week is over.
I also really don't want to work right now, but since it's only 10:30 a.m. and I missed all of Monday thanks to a 17 hour plane ride, I need to work. But in my efforts to procrastinate, I decided a nap was a better idea. So I tried to take a nap. The problem was, it's damp. Also, they're working on some painting project here at the hotel, and whatever tool they're using to do this creates a farting sound. Actually, it kind of sounds like a duck quack, too. It's kind of a quacky fart sound. Maybe a duck fart. I don't know, do ducks make a sound when they fart? Do they fart??
So, needless to say, the nap was a wash (ha ha, did you pick up on the humidity reference there?). So now it's back to work.
Why? Danger. Rebellion. Giving the finger to The Man.
It's also humid. Everything feels damp. I am obsessing over how damp I feel. This may make me crazy enough to litter before the week is over.
I also really don't want to work right now, but since it's only 10:30 a.m. and I missed all of Monday thanks to a 17 hour plane ride, I need to work. But in my efforts to procrastinate, I decided a nap was a better idea. So I tried to take a nap. The problem was, it's damp. Also, they're working on some painting project here at the hotel, and whatever tool they're using to do this creates a farting sound. Actually, it kind of sounds like a duck quack, too. It's kind of a quacky fart sound. Maybe a duck fart. I don't know, do ducks make a sound when they fart? Do they fart??
So, needless to say, the nap was a wash (ha ha, did you pick up on the humidity reference there?). So now it's back to work.
Report from Singapore
I'm in Singapore. Some thoughts:
1) Singapore Airlines rocks. The food is amazing. The seats fold all the way out (I slept for 10 hours). The flight attendants are these beautiful Asian women wearing really cool, very Asian uniforms.
2) The Singapore airport is the cleanest, nicest airport I've ever been in.
3) My cab driver wanted to talk politics. He wants Hillary for president. Sorry, Mr. Cab Driver. As I was getting out of the cab, he said, "God bless America." I said thanks. I thought about saying "Back at ya," but I didn't think he'd get it.
4) It's humid. Oh my God is it humid.
5) There's a sweet infinity pool down the hall with a view of the harbor and the Singapore River. I brought my swimsuit. I see a swim and a Singapore Sling in my future.
6) I need a shower. I checked email as soon as I got in my room. It's now been 28 hours since I last showered. Ewww.
7) I saw Manila from the air.
8) I had to explain the concept of kickball to my seatmate, Aaron, on the flight over. He's Canadian. Apparently they don't play kickball in Canada.
9) I have a full minibar, including cashews--woohoo!
10) It's 8:30 a.m. and I want a beer. That's so wrong.
1) Singapore Airlines rocks. The food is amazing. The seats fold all the way out (I slept for 10 hours). The flight attendants are these beautiful Asian women wearing really cool, very Asian uniforms.
2) The Singapore airport is the cleanest, nicest airport I've ever been in.
3) My cab driver wanted to talk politics. He wants Hillary for president. Sorry, Mr. Cab Driver. As I was getting out of the cab, he said, "God bless America." I said thanks. I thought about saying "Back at ya," but I didn't think he'd get it.
4) It's humid. Oh my God is it humid.
5) There's a sweet infinity pool down the hall with a view of the harbor and the Singapore River. I brought my swimsuit. I see a swim and a Singapore Sling in my future.
6) I need a shower. I checked email as soon as I got in my room. It's now been 28 hours since I last showered. Ewww.
7) I saw Manila from the air.
8) I had to explain the concept of kickball to my seatmate, Aaron, on the flight over. He's Canadian. Apparently they don't play kickball in Canada.
9) I have a full minibar, including cashews--woohoo!
10) It's 8:30 a.m. and I want a beer. That's so wrong.
Friday, June 20, 2008
I Overcompensate for My Internal Emptiness. How Sad.
After reading an email from Erin about her results of a color quiz (she's a yellow), I googled some random color quiz that didn't tell me what color I am, but did tell me the following. It's relatively accurate, for the most part. I'm not sure that's a good thing.
Kris's Existing Situation
Avoids excessive effort and needs roots, security, and peaceful companionship. May be physically unwell, in need of gentle handling and considerate treatment.
Kris's Stress Sources
Wants to overcome a feeling of emptiness and of separation from others. Believes that life still has far more to offer and that she may miss her share of experiences if she fails to make the best use of every opportunity. She therefore pursues her objectives with a fierce intensity and commits herself deeply and readily. Feels herself to be completely competent in any field in which she engages, and can sometimes be considered by others to be interfering or meddlesome.
Kris's Restrained Characteristics
Feels that she is receiving less than her share and that there is no one on whom she can rely for sympathy and understanding. Pent-up emotions and a certain egocentricity make her quick to take offense, but she realizes that she has to make the best of things as they are.
Kris's Desired Objective
Seeks success, stimulation, and a life full of experience. Wants to develop freely and to shake off the shackles of self-doubt, to win, and to live intensely. Likes contacts with others and is enthusiastic by nature. Receptive to anything new, modern, or intriguing; has many interests and wants to expand her fields of activity. Optimistic about the future.
Kris's Actual Problem
The fear that she might be prevented from achieving the things she wants leads her to play her part with an urgent and hectic intensity.
Kris's Actual Problem #2
Fights against restriction or limitation, and insists on developing freely as a result of her own efforts.
Kris's Existing Situation
Avoids excessive effort and needs roots, security, and peaceful companionship. May be physically unwell, in need of gentle handling and considerate treatment.
Kris's Stress Sources
Wants to overcome a feeling of emptiness and of separation from others. Believes that life still has far more to offer and that she may miss her share of experiences if she fails to make the best use of every opportunity. She therefore pursues her objectives with a fierce intensity and commits herself deeply and readily. Feels herself to be completely competent in any field in which she engages, and can sometimes be considered by others to be interfering or meddlesome.
Kris's Restrained Characteristics
Feels that she is receiving less than her share and that there is no one on whom she can rely for sympathy and understanding. Pent-up emotions and a certain egocentricity make her quick to take offense, but she realizes that she has to make the best of things as they are.
Kris's Desired Objective
Seeks success, stimulation, and a life full of experience. Wants to develop freely and to shake off the shackles of self-doubt, to win, and to live intensely. Likes contacts with others and is enthusiastic by nature. Receptive to anything new, modern, or intriguing; has many interests and wants to expand her fields of activity. Optimistic about the future.
Kris's Actual Problem
The fear that she might be prevented from achieving the things she wants leads her to play her part with an urgent and hectic intensity.
Kris's Actual Problem #2
Fights against restriction or limitation, and insists on developing freely as a result of her own efforts.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Porta-John Me v. Fancy Pants Me
I don't think being a Gemini has served me well. On the one hand, I like it, because even if I don't entertain anyone else with my wit and charm, I entertain the hell out of myself (or maybe that's just a function of being an only child).
But I'm also flighty, which is annoying. And I have two very distinct sides to my personality. The latter is what I'm struggling with at the moment. Here's the part where I overshare.
My dad's mom died a few years ago as a result of Alzheimer's. I never knew much about her, she was not my favorite grandma. I remember when I was little, what I liked best was watching her get out this pink make-up mirror with lights on it and what seemed to me to be a giant bag of cosmetics. She'd sit in her kitchen and "put her face on." I loved, loved, loved watching this, I was a total girlie-girl. She also taught me to make perfect bows for Christmas presents (to this day, I still go all out when wrapping presents). She also used to make clothes for my Barbies (my favorite dress of all was this shiny white and silver number with a plunging neckline, but that never quite stayed on the doll because my grandma had mis-measured how big Barbie's boobs were).
Anyway, the point in all of this is that I never knew anything about my grandma but superficial stuff, because that's all she ever shared. I mean, it's not nice to talk about deceased relatives in this way, but to my knowledge there was never much to the woman below the surface. Even so, I could always relate to her insofar as we had superficial stuff in common, especially when it came to pretty things--pretty lipstick, pretty hair, pretty clothes, pretty surroundings, pretty whatever.
So fast forward to today. I'm at a weird crossroads (I hate that term, by the way), that's what came to me the another night at, like, 2 a.m. Let me explain. I went out and did that trail race on Sunday, and it was so much fun on so many levels. Just sitting out in the trees, not caring how I looked or if I had shaved my legs or if anyone had ever seen me in that particular shorts/jogbra combo before or if I said something witty and clever. The surroundings were, as far as I was concerned, luxurious simply because we had chairs, porta-johns and a spot in the shade. There were some fancy cars in the parking lot, but most of them were Subarus or Toyotas or mid-sized SUV's. Lots of them had bumper stickers that advertised political sentiments, anti-war messages, affliations with various athletic groups or types of races, and some of them were just funny. Some of the cars were dinged up, most were a little dirty. Best of all, no one out there was putting on a show. I mean, there were one or two women who looked a little surgically enhanced and like they'd spent a little time in front of the mirror that morning with lipstick and a blow dryer. But by and large, everyone looked like they'd done what I'd done: rolled out of bed, gotten dressed and drove out to the race--and they all looked damn happy to be there.
But I'm rambling. My point in all of this is that there are two sides to me, and at some point, one of me has to win, right??
Last December, Jeff and I traded in my VW Passat and Jeff's F150 for an Infinti and a Mercedes, respectively. I love the Infiniti, because it's fast and fun to drive and while it's pretty on the outside, the fact is, it's a good quality, well-made car. It suits me...but not as well as the VW did, which was still fun to drive, but you had to work for it if you wanted to go really fast, and it had a few little quirks and imperfections that gave it character. As for the Mercedes, anytime I drive it, I feel like I stole something. It's powerful and beautiful and has a fair amount of spunk. But, man is it snooty. It's definitely not me.
And now we're this close to moving out of our nice, but humble suburban single family home into a sweet, sweet condo downtown, complete with hip furnishings. It's not douchebaggy, but it's also (gulp) not really me. I mean, is it? I'm not sure it is. So I'm kind of in this strange spot where the part of me that likes camping chairs, porta-johns and shade trees (okay, cedars) is in direct conflict with the part of me that liked to watch her grandma putting on make-up and wraps a mean Christmas present. It's kind of like comfy me verus materialistic me. It's very after-school-specialish and I'm not sure why I'm obsessing over it, except that one of them feels much more humble and genuine than the other and I'm not sure how that version of me can co-exist with the fancy-pants, shallow version of me. I mean, can they co-exist?
Guess I have something else to talk to my therapist about.
But I'm also flighty, which is annoying. And I have two very distinct sides to my personality. The latter is what I'm struggling with at the moment. Here's the part where I overshare.
My dad's mom died a few years ago as a result of Alzheimer's. I never knew much about her, she was not my favorite grandma. I remember when I was little, what I liked best was watching her get out this pink make-up mirror with lights on it and what seemed to me to be a giant bag of cosmetics. She'd sit in her kitchen and "put her face on." I loved, loved, loved watching this, I was a total girlie-girl. She also taught me to make perfect bows for Christmas presents (to this day, I still go all out when wrapping presents). She also used to make clothes for my Barbies (my favorite dress of all was this shiny white and silver number with a plunging neckline, but that never quite stayed on the doll because my grandma had mis-measured how big Barbie's boobs were).
Anyway, the point in all of this is that I never knew anything about my grandma but superficial stuff, because that's all she ever shared. I mean, it's not nice to talk about deceased relatives in this way, but to my knowledge there was never much to the woman below the surface. Even so, I could always relate to her insofar as we had superficial stuff in common, especially when it came to pretty things--pretty lipstick, pretty hair, pretty clothes, pretty surroundings, pretty whatever.
So fast forward to today. I'm at a weird crossroads (I hate that term, by the way), that's what came to me the another night at, like, 2 a.m. Let me explain. I went out and did that trail race on Sunday, and it was so much fun on so many levels. Just sitting out in the trees, not caring how I looked or if I had shaved my legs or if anyone had ever seen me in that particular shorts/jogbra combo before or if I said something witty and clever. The surroundings were, as far as I was concerned, luxurious simply because we had chairs, porta-johns and a spot in the shade. There were some fancy cars in the parking lot, but most of them were Subarus or Toyotas or mid-sized SUV's. Lots of them had bumper stickers that advertised political sentiments, anti-war messages, affliations with various athletic groups or types of races, and some of them were just funny. Some of the cars were dinged up, most were a little dirty. Best of all, no one out there was putting on a show. I mean, there were one or two women who looked a little surgically enhanced and like they'd spent a little time in front of the mirror that morning with lipstick and a blow dryer. But by and large, everyone looked like they'd done what I'd done: rolled out of bed, gotten dressed and drove out to the race--and they all looked damn happy to be there.
But I'm rambling. My point in all of this is that there are two sides to me, and at some point, one of me has to win, right??
Last December, Jeff and I traded in my VW Passat and Jeff's F150 for an Infinti and a Mercedes, respectively. I love the Infiniti, because it's fast and fun to drive and while it's pretty on the outside, the fact is, it's a good quality, well-made car. It suits me...but not as well as the VW did, which was still fun to drive, but you had to work for it if you wanted to go really fast, and it had a few little quirks and imperfections that gave it character. As for the Mercedes, anytime I drive it, I feel like I stole something. It's powerful and beautiful and has a fair amount of spunk. But, man is it snooty. It's definitely not me.
And now we're this close to moving out of our nice, but humble suburban single family home into a sweet, sweet condo downtown, complete with hip furnishings. It's not douchebaggy, but it's also (gulp) not really me. I mean, is it? I'm not sure it is. So I'm kind of in this strange spot where the part of me that likes camping chairs, porta-johns and shade trees (okay, cedars) is in direct conflict with the part of me that liked to watch her grandma putting on make-up and wraps a mean Christmas present. It's kind of like comfy me verus materialistic me. It's very after-school-specialish and I'm not sure why I'm obsessing over it, except that one of them feels much more humble and genuine than the other and I'm not sure how that version of me can co-exist with the fancy-pants, shallow version of me. I mean, can they co-exist?
Guess I have something else to talk to my therapist about.
Monday, June 2, 2008
My Birthday Week
I love the fact that Wiley, Erin and I all have birthdays in the same week. It gives the entire week a kind of celebratory feel, and it gives me a good, guilt-free excuse to hang out with friends. It also gave me good reason to do a pub run and try two new activities I'd never done before.
The Pub Run
Thursday night was the pub run, the first one I've been on in 11 months--wow! I need to make it to more of these, I forget how fun they are. The big highlights for me:
The Pub Run
Thursday night was the pub run, the first one I've been on in 11 months--wow! I need to make it to more of these, I forget how fun they are. The big highlights for me:
- Erin's Snoopy dance at the Driskill
- Ping pong at La Zona Rosa
- Talking with Jane as we jogged/walked/drove to Uncle Billy's.
The "Adventure Quest" Race
At some point on Thursday night, Panther and I came to the conclusion that we needed a strategy for the adventure race on Saturday, but that we really had no idea when we could meet. We wound up going to NXNW late on Friday afternoon. In no time, we had what we thought was a pretty sound race strategy (and it turns out it would have been...if we had followed it). Here's what the plan was:
- Brush Park for the stilt walk
- Up to secret checkpoint #1 on Brazos & 6th
- Up to the wheelbarrows at 9th & Congress
- Frisbee toss at 6th & Congress
- Rock wall at 5th & Colorado
- Remote control boats at 3rd & Colorado
- Zoob puzzle at the Four Seasons
- Rubber duck thing, obstacle course and bean bags at 1st & Congress
- Big wheels.
Of course, we knew there would be secret checkpoints that would throw us off, but since we couldn't plan for them, we figured we had the best strategy we were going to get, and we'd make gametime decisions as needed. More important than having a solid race plan, the cornerstone of our strategy was to rely on our athleticism. In fact, we thought we had a reasonable shot at winning. And then Paul and Meredith showed up. And Wiley and Nedra. Oh, and Tim S. is really anal retentive about these races, it's all about efficiency for this guy (and I say that with love, Tim, in case you read this!). Fine, but come on, we still had a shot, right?
No. Winning time: 43 minutes (attained by Wiley and Nedra). Our time: 80 minutes. Having had some time to analyze the situation, here are the six things that brought about our downfall:
1) My utter lack of athleticism. It helps to do training runs if you're going to race. Who knew?
2) We did NOT follow our plan. Not only did we go on an ill-advised wild goose chase over to Waterloo Park, we stood in line three times for the wheelbarrow thing, each time with the line getting longer.
3) We ran to Waterloo Park. Don't ask.
4) We didn't have a phone, much less anyone on standby to google stuff for us.
5) We finished the race with 16 beads instead of 15.
6) We're retarded.
But, it was really, really fun. Erin puts on a good race!
The Trail Race
Sunday morning was The Loop trail race out at Emma Long Park. I've done a little bit of trail running, but not a lot, even though I've really liked it every time I've gone. And I'd never done a trail race until yesterday. Kerry had told me a little over a week ago that I should try it, so I signed up. The distances were 10k (one loop) or 30k (three loops). Given that I haven't been training at all for anything, it should be pretty obvious that I did the 10k.
Jeff and I got out to the park at a little after 6 a.m. and hung out with Wiley, Kerry and a guy named John that I seem to remember meeting maybe once before. Anyway, Wiley had a good spot in the trees next to the start/finish. He and Kerry went off at 7 a.m. to do the 30k. Jeff, JoDee, Gina and I started the 10k at 7:30. I have to say, in spite of how tough the course was (at least for me), that's the funnest 10k I've ever done. I had no idea where I was or how far I'd gone, and it didn't really matter, given that it was all about paying attention to where my next step would be, or how I was going to get around the person in front of me, and when I wasn't doing that, I was taking in the pretty scenery. JoDee was the fourth place women's finisher overall--wow! Me? Not so much. I have some serious work to do before the San Antonio marathon.
After the race, we hung out and enjoyed some refreshing adult beverages. And after that, I took a nap.
Then it was off to Uncle Billy's for the AD board meeting. After Tim and Stacy left, Ostrich and Thor joined Panther and me, and we hung out there until it was time for me to go to McCormick & Schmick's for birthday dinner with my parents. The food was awesome, as usual, but there was maybe a little too much garlic in the risotto--I mean, it's bad when I can still taste it the next morning, right? Blech!
And now I'm working, even though I don't want to be--I never work on my birthday as a matter of principle. But, since I had such a fun weekend and didn't finish any of the stuff I promised myself I'd finish over the weekend, I'm chained to my computer. Boo! Oh well, it's a small price to pay for having had such an awesome birthday week.
Some Birthday Reflections
Today is my 37th birthday. I always thought that by this age, I would be super mature and sophisticated and have accomplished amazing things, like writing a bestseller, having two kids and a brilliant career, playing hostess to sublime backyard dinner parties with fancy wine and nifty Japanese lanterns hanging from perfect trees that formed part of perfect landscaping. At one point, I thought I'd be some pioneering orthopaedic surgeon who saved the careers of Olympic athletes, or that maybe I'd be an Olympic athlete, myself. Oh yeah, and I thought I'd be wildly happy and successful 100% of the time. Of course, none of these things has happened.
I've thought of and dreamed a lot of things, all of which have had some idealized measure of success associated with them. I've wanted so much to be perfect, to "get there" to arrive and know I'd made it...even though the reality is that I never really figured out what perfection is, or where "there" is, or what I'm traveling toward so that I can finally feel like I've arrived. I keep reaching for stuff without really knowing what that stuff is. So I'm always disappointed when I don't reach it. How crazy is that?
I'm also horribly afraid of failure. Or maybe success. Or maybe both. But the point is that I "commit" myself to so many things for fear (I think) of failing at any one of them--you know, playing the numbers game, the more you do/try, the more likely it is you'll achieve success at something. The problem is, I spread myself so thin, or I commit to something I'm not in love with but consider a challenge, or I underestimate the time and effort certain things take, or I let self-doubt and low self-esteem sneak in and undermine me, and so the whole thing backfires and I wind up accomplishing nothing.
So anyway, I say all of that to say this: fuck New Year's resolutions, I'm making some birthday resolutions. What better, more life-affirming thing can you do on the anniversary of coming kicking and screaming into the world? And, in the spirit of recognizing that I have a tendency to overcommit and underdeliver, I'm limiting the scope and number of my resolutions. Here they are:
1) Make a limited number of promises to myself, and then keep them--and no stupid promises, either. Important promises only.
2) Give more of myself to my friends and loved ones. I'm lucky to have them.
3) Recognize that small gestures count. I may never be able to single-handedly fund a new hospital wing or anything, I'll probably never be interviewed on the Today Show for being an awesome person, but I can focus on doing the little, everyday things that, when you add them all up over a lifetime, leave a legacy of trying to make things better.
4) I will try new things, things that are daunting or scary or uncomfortable. In short, I will expand my world in ways that are meaningful to me, even if they're a little silly (like learning how to fix a leaky toilet, or running a trail race (see next post)).
5) And finally, be thankful.
Happy 37th birthday to me! :)
I've thought of and dreamed a lot of things, all of which have had some idealized measure of success associated with them. I've wanted so much to be perfect, to "get there" to arrive and know I'd made it...even though the reality is that I never really figured out what perfection is, or where "there" is, or what I'm traveling toward so that I can finally feel like I've arrived. I keep reaching for stuff without really knowing what that stuff is. So I'm always disappointed when I don't reach it. How crazy is that?
I'm also horribly afraid of failure. Or maybe success. Or maybe both. But the point is that I "commit" myself to so many things for fear (I think) of failing at any one of them--you know, playing the numbers game, the more you do/try, the more likely it is you'll achieve success at something. The problem is, I spread myself so thin, or I commit to something I'm not in love with but consider a challenge, or I underestimate the time and effort certain things take, or I let self-doubt and low self-esteem sneak in and undermine me, and so the whole thing backfires and I wind up accomplishing nothing.
So anyway, I say all of that to say this: fuck New Year's resolutions, I'm making some birthday resolutions. What better, more life-affirming thing can you do on the anniversary of coming kicking and screaming into the world? And, in the spirit of recognizing that I have a tendency to overcommit and underdeliver, I'm limiting the scope and number of my resolutions. Here they are:
1) Make a limited number of promises to myself, and then keep them--and no stupid promises, either. Important promises only.
2) Give more of myself to my friends and loved ones. I'm lucky to have them.
3) Recognize that small gestures count. I may never be able to single-handedly fund a new hospital wing or anything, I'll probably never be interviewed on the Today Show for being an awesome person, but I can focus on doing the little, everyday things that, when you add them all up over a lifetime, leave a legacy of trying to make things better.
4) I will try new things, things that are daunting or scary or uncomfortable. In short, I will expand my world in ways that are meaningful to me, even if they're a little silly (like learning how to fix a leaky toilet, or running a trail race (see next post)).
5) And finally, be thankful.
Happy 37th birthday to me! :)
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