Potpourri

You know what I don't understand? Those newfangled car key doodles that are not actual keys but instead electronic fancy car remote thingies. What... why? I have a whole list of reasons I don't like or understand them: They're expensive. You can get a key made for a couple bucks, but those stupid electronic NON KEYS cost a couple hundred. Oh, and water ruins them. And what if you forget them somewhere, which is much easier to do since you don't actually have to get them out of your pocket to unlock the car, start it, or exit it. What if you're locked out? Exactly whom does AAA send for you, because I feel like it wouldn't be a locksmith.

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The last guy I dated told me that one of the reasons he didn't want to date me anymore was that he wanted to be the funny one in the relationship. I had decided to end things, but that was his parting sentiment to me. Great.

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Today I learned and performed the Dix-Hallpike test and Epley maneuver on a patient with vertigo. It's a way to diagnose vertigo and then to treat it. It's super weird because maneuvering the person around with their head and body in certain positions ACTUALLY does help vertigo. I know that it's supposedly science or physics or whatever, but it really seems like the maneuvers are sorcery. Which, given the names, I'm semi convinced they are.

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This past weekend I spent a lot of time with my sister. Communicating with my sister is like... Well. It's like communicating with my sister. If you ask her a direct question she might answer, or she might answer a totally unrelated question (Me: "Hey when are you buying your ticket for the 4th?" Sis: "I don't have diabetes!"), or she might just NOT ANSWER AT ALL. And you know she heard you. And it's not out of malice, it's just... how she is.

She will often tell you only part of the story and assume that you already knew the rest. I am constantly getting texts from her that read like we were in the middle of a conversation.
Sis: IV fluids.
Me: What? Who is getting IV fluids? What's going on?

This weekend she tried to tell me a story, but I got all hung up on what she apparently thought was a minor detail.
Sis: So I was walking home and I caught a snake right over there. And it was so weird it-
Me: Wait, what? You caught a snake?  How?
Sis: I was just walking and I saw a snake on the sidewalk, so I grabbed it. Anyhow, it-
Me: Why did you catch a snake?
Sis: To show it to the kids.
Me: Wait. You saw a snake and so you GRABBED IT?
Sis: Yes. Anyhow, it was so weird when we let it go in the yard it slithered all the way from the rocks to the bushes.

In case of emergency

So. It has been awhile. I have a no sleeping and horrible nightmares saga to tell you about but that can wait.
Okay, I just wrote a whole long-winded paragraph here about how PRECISELY I came up with the idea, but let me just streamline that into: My sister mentioned that she wanted a Swiss Army knife to keep in her car. So, for Christmas, instead of just giving her the knife, I put together an Emergency Car Kit for her. It was really fun to make and she loved it, so it was a very satisfying present.
Since then I have made emergency car kits for a few other people. It makes a really awesome gift, if you're someone who tends to go a bit overboard for gift giving.

Let's go through the process. First, you get a bin. You'll want to get it at Target because you'll also be needing other things at Target. Then, you put things in the bin. And then you give that bin to somebody, or you keep it for yourself and put it in your car.

Here is an example of an emergency car kit. It just happens to be MY emergency car kit.

Photo 1: Jeans, black lounge pants, a long sleevie shirt, an undertank, a short sleevie shirt, flippity flops, socks, undies, dress, hoodie. All artfully flang over my chair.

Photo 2: Fingerless gloves, fingerfull gloves, work gloves (I didn't realize I had put so many pairs of gloves in there until I was taking the pic), poncho, umbrella, sunscreen, tissues, flashlight, lint roller, rope.

Photo 3: Gross yellow Gatorade (selected to make sure that I will only drink if it is an actual thirst emergency), various undesirable snackies, vodka, 5 hour energy drink, baby wipes, extra glasses, sunglasses, miscellaneous case containing phone charger, earbuds, lighter, one birthday candle. Just in case.

Photo 4: Here we have some items that go into two cosmetic pouches. In the Chanel pouch (purchased from a thrift store)- hairbursh, earplugs, razor, toothpaste, toothbrush, tampons, cotton balls, Q tips, conditioner, floss, chapstick, condoms (hey, we don't know what sort of emergency might come up). In the little black pouch- bobby pins (or, as I like to call them, Robert pins), sparkles, hair goo, lotion, eyeshadow, nail clippers, hairbands, mascara, eyeliner, perfume.

Photo 5: Packing it all up.... At the last minute I also threw in a notepad and a tarp. Because, well, I had a notepad and a tarp.

Photo 6: Now, this is the mini/satellite emergency car kit that lives in the FRONT of my car. This one contains some tinier things and also essential items that I might need to use more often than what is in the main car kit.

Photo 7: The items in the mini front seat emergency car kit. Flip & Tumble bag, wee notebook, matches, gum, sunscreen, handsatizer (that's what my nephew calls it) spray, alcohol swabs, chapstick, lens cloth, little pouch containing tampons and Robert pins, lotion, tissues, pill box with various meds, salt, pens, and a Sharpie. Not pictured and I'm not sure why- whistle.

Photo 8: And here we have everything neatly packaged into these two bins. Oh, I also added a sweatshirt to the big bin, which is what you see on top. I had room and I tend to get cold.

I feel like I should also mention that as a nurse I have a separate box in my car that contains things like bandaids, scissors, antiseptic, tape, and gauze. Oh, and a face mask for giving CPR. I'm not going back down to my car to get and photograph those things, you'll just have to use your imagination.
I also keep bandaids in my wallet (just like my dad), snacks in my purse, chapstick in just about every bag I own, and pepper spray and a window breaker/seatbelt cutter attached to my keychain.
Things I want to add to my emergency car kit: flares, emergency blanket, book, snake bite kit, hat, safety pins. Man, I could just keep going.
What might go into your emergency car kit?

A Worrisome Bump

Less than two weeks into this brand new year for which I had such sky high hopes, I developed something worrisome on a rather worrisome area.
You should probably stop reading this if you'd like to be sexually attracted to me ever in the future. Oh, no takers? FINE THEN, CARRY ON.

It was a bump. A worrisome bump on my behind.

A worrisome bump on my behind that HURT like hell. I noticed it late one night, but I decided to, y'know, wait and see how it looked in the morning because it'll probably be fine and come ON, Universe, you can't possibly be serious with this bullshit.

And then the next morning the bump was bigger and also more painful. I limped to the bathroom and examined it in the mirror all contorted-like, as one might when trying to examine one's own tush. In the mirror I could plainly see that my right arse cheek had turned an angry bright red color.

So... yikes.

I decided to throw modesty to the wind and hauled my painful hiney over to Urgent Care where I was told that my worrisome bump was actually a worrisome ABSCESS on my butt cheek that needed to be incised and drained right now RIGHTNOW.

And that is how I found myself lying facedown on an exam table with my ASS ON FULL DISPLAY.

The (very kind and professional) doctor incised and drained the abscess and covered it with gauze, while the (very nice and understanding) medical assistant told me they saw things like this all the time. They sent me on my way with some painkillers and heavy hitter antibiotics.

The next day, I found out the culture of my abscess had grown MRSA. Because, why the hell not? Of course 2013 started out with a nice case of BUTT MRSA. Of course.
I really don't know how I got it. I have excellent hygiene and I'm persnickety about hand washing. I work in healthcare, but not in a hospital. I do wound care, but it's not like I ever touch my patients AND THEN TOUCH MY BUTT. So I dunno. Perhaps it was from a toilet seat. Which makes me feel like, okay, I guess I can't ever sit on a one ever again, even with the flimsy paper guard. And I definitely feel like I'm FOREVER UNCLEAN.

The doctor emailed me the "decontamination guidelines" and I had to go back to the pharmacy for some special nose cream and fancy body cleanser. Then I had to call my supervisor and go on mandatory sick leave. And then I had to set fire to wash all of my towels and clothing.

Everything's fine. I'm fine. The abscess has healed, the pain is gone, and I'm done with my antibiotics and my decontamination process.

But, MRSA!
BUTT MRSA!

I just don't even. So, 2013, that's how it's going to be, huh?

New Year 2012

Alternate title: Hey, Remember When I Thought 2012 Might be Awesome?
Alternate alternate title: Jump Up Your Own Ass and Die, 2012.

Well! It has been awhile. Turns out it's kind of hard to come up with a post to go after hey guys I was raped. I half wrote several drafts and saved them. There are lots of Meaningful Things I would like to talk about, but right now it feels more important to just get something out there and break the 2013 seal, know what I'm sayin?

So. Survey time....

1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?
Took and passed my board exam and became a board certified Nurse Practitioner, got a job as a Nurse Practitioner, joined Instagram, had a sleepover with my niece at my apartment, rear ended another car, got all my Christmas shopping done before Christmas eve, rode the metro in LA, went to Kauai, started ordering something other than well drinks at bars.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I meant to write a new year's resolution post last year but then I didn't, so I don't recall what big resolutions I apparently made last year.
This year, my resolutions are generally to get out more often, to be more there for people, and to make a bigger deal out of other people's birthdays. 

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My sister! I have a wee niece! Lucky number seven!
And various other people I know less well. 

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Well... no. But I work with the elderly population so a lot of our patients have died. We sign many sympathy cards in our office.

5. What countries did you visit?
Just this one. 

6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
Peace. 

7. What dates from 2012 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
February 9, the day I passed my board exam.
March 12, the day I started my job.
June 19, my new niece's birthday.
August 5, the day I was raped.
September 23, the day of my police interview.
December 31, the day 2012 ended. 

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Passing my board exam. Getting my job. Making it through my police interview. Surviving to 2013.

9. What was your biggest failure?
My love life. There are no good guys left. I've done the leg work, people.
I've learned a lot about being independent this year. I mean, I CAN get all my own groceries and heavy items into my apartment. I CAN purchase, transport, and set up my own Christmas tree, I CAN get myself to and from the airport, I CAN check my car's fluids and schedule its maintenance, I CAN sleep alone, I CAN go to a wedding by myself. I can live without the love and support of a partner. But that doesn't mean it's easy or that I WANT to. Being single is fine and all, but it's not my first choice and that's no big secret.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I think we've covered this. 

11. What was the best thing you bought?
In term of a happiness to dollars spent ratio, I would say my Christmas tree was my best investment. 

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Oh goodness. Where to start? My family, who has showed me unyielding support. My friends, who went above and beyond to be there for me over and over again. Jenny and Briya who held and comforted me after my rape. Amber, Lora, and Molly who stayed up with me that night and helped me get up and out the door the next morning. Leah who told me where to go for my rape kit. Jessica who brought me to and from the hospital and stayed with me for several days. Every single person who said something kind or encouraging to me or who sent me a letter or an email or a care package or a direct message or a text or a tweet. Strangers who have contacted me and told me I am brave and strong, because I don't feel brave or strong. My trauma counselor and my legal advocate. People who answer my insomniac middle of the night texts. People who forgive me for being a mess or having a meltdown or an angry outburst. My parents for being there for me, even when it's hard for them. All the children in my life who make me smile. My coworkers for creating a great work environment and choosing me to join it. The person who found my credit card and turned it into the gas station so I could get it back.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
The guy who raped me. Guys who lied to me. Guys who lied to my friends. The guy who thinks I deserved what happened to me. The guy who asked me what I did to bring upon what happened to me so he could warn other girls not to do it. The guy who emotionally abused and manipulated my friend and then tried to turn it around on her and blame everyone else for his behavior. The doctor at the hospital who made me cry. The police officer who asked what I was wearing and if I was flirting and what other substances I had been on and why didn't I scream and if I'm a "risk taker" and if I "do this often." The therapist who told me that maybe my rapist didn't mean to rape me.
The guy who asked me after I was raped if I wanted to have sex.

So, guys in general and guys in specific.


14. Where did most of your money go?
Rent, student loans.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? 
Getting my job, getting a paycheck, vacations, the Olympics, neat finds at the flea market, holidays, visits from friends, watching football, giving presents, drinkiepies, sleepovers, my new baby niece, 2012 ending.

16. What song will always remind you of 2012?

This version specifically.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: 
a) happier or sadder? Happier
b) thinner or fatter? Probably the same
c) richer or poorer? Richer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Helped others in the way that so many people helped me this year. 

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Feeling bad about myself. Blaming myself. Being hard on myself. 

20. How did you spend Christmas?
At my parents' house, surrounded by family. 

21. Did you fall in love in 2012?
No. I'm starting to wonder if that will ever happen for me again. 

22. What was your favorite TV program?
Parks and Rec, The League, Gossip Girl. 

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Yes. 

24. What was the best book you read?
Days of Blood and Starlight, Bitterblue, Unwind, Ready Player One. 

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
That I know all the lyrics to Get Money.  

26. What did you want and get?
An awesome job that I love, an iphone, fancy heirloom jewelry, lounge pants, quality time with friends and family. 

27. What did you want and not get?
A trip to visit D in Oregon. 

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
The Hunger Games. 

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned the big three oh. On my actual birthday I went to work and brought treats (cherries and candied maple walnuts). After work I went straight to the airport, planning to visit my sister and her family for the weekend. My flight was delayed three hours so I spent the last few hours of 29 getting drunk at the airport bar and the last few moments of 29 asleep with my face against the seat in front of me on the plane. Then my sister picked me up at the airport and her car broke down on the freeway. We waited for AAA with semis whooshing by us on a blind turn.

The weekend before my birthday I had a family party with a ping pong tournament and fireworks. And my favorite kind of cake-- yellow box cake with chocolate canned frosting.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? 
My dad not getting sick. My Trojans having a better season.
Oh, and NOT GETTING RAPED MIGHT HAVE BEEN NICE.


31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?
Work: Business casual heavily featuring dresses and leggings.
Other: All lounge pants all the time.

32. What kept you sane?
This question implies that I STAYED SANE and I'd say the jury's still out on that one....
My friends. Medication. Texting. Reading. Taking walks during my lunch hour at work. Giving gifts. Donating toys for the tots. Twitter. Shopping. Hot baths. My job. Buying my lunches. Therapy. Relaxation techniques. Soothing baubles. Trashy TV. Care packages. Kind words. My family. Holding babies. Liquor. Inappropriate jokes.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
The USC Drum Major. I know he's too young for me! But he's cute! And he has a sword!

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
All that rape stuff.
Women's rights.
The election.

35. Who did you miss?
The gals from school, especially D and Sunny.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
My tiny new niece! An actual NEW person.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012.
Knowing when I need to ask for help and from whom I can ask it is actually a skill and a good thing, not necessarily a weakness. People are here and willing to help me if I ask, and often even if I don't.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I'll be there for you-ou-ou, as the world falls down.

---

I spent New Year's Eve at my parents' house with my family. We had lots of champagne and our traditional Chinese food dinner and we played a fun charades game with my nieces and nephews. Then, the kids all decided they wanted to do their New Year's Dip that night. I haven't participated in a family traditional New Year's Dip in many years, but my 12 year old niece convinced me to do it because she said "It's to wash away 2012!"

Oh. Well then. GAME ON.

Annnd....

Leap!

I washed away 2012.

Be good to me, 2013. I'm counting on you.

Leap

Here is my story....



A little over a month ago I went out for a fun night with my girlfriends.
I went out for a fun night with my girlfriends and I ended up being pulled into a dark room behind a bar where I was violently sexually assaulted.
There's another word for it.


Raped.


I was raped.


My friends and I got dressed up in sparkles and frills and went party-hopping. We gossiped. We laughed. We had a great time. We ended up at a local bar where we stayed for hours. We didn't notice the time passing; we were having too much fun.
Eventually we were the only people left in the bar. Eventually my friends went to the bathroom. Eventually it was just me and the bartender.
Eventually he kissed me.

And then he grabbed at me and I gasped in surprise and pain. He pulled me into that back room and violated me.

It all happened so fast, I don't even remember thinking. I do remember the blood.

It happened so fast that my friends didn't even know anything was wrong. I was gone for less than 15 minutes and came back bloody, disoriented, and hysterical. I called out for Jenny and Briya and they came to me, wide-eyed and horrified and asking what had happened. I shook my head and grabbed a wad of napkins and ran up the stairs to the street. We ended up at the deli, because that's where we had been planning to go, and because apparently when my brain shuts off one of my coping mechanisms is sticking to the original plan? I don't know. Anyhow. We sat in the deli and I intermittently cried and apologized for being so dramatic.

I actually have a photo of what I looked like after it happened. I made Jenny take it because I was in such disbelief that I needed something tangible to look at that correlated with how I felt.

We left the deli. I screamed and cried on the street corner. My friends held me. They asked me if I wanted to go to the police or the hospital. No, I shrieked, I just wanted to take a shower and catch our flight home.

Yes. I know you're not supposed to take a shower.

But it was the only thing I could possibly do. I felt dirty and angry and guilty and crying crying all the while crying. Plus, I think my friends realized that the only way I would go to the police or to the hospital or anything at all besides GETTING IN THE SHOWER would be if they forced me, and I'm pretty sure no one was in the mood to force me to do anything at that point.

We got back to the hotel room. I peeled off what was left of my clothes. Briya stayed in the bathroom while I showered. Jenny woke up Lora, Molly, and Amber, and rearranged the beds so that I had a space snuggled in the middle. I put on my jammies, got into bed, and announced to the room that I was sorry, but no one could go to sleep "You guys can't leave me. PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME." And then I proceeded to have a meltdown. I was crying and shaking and wringing my hands and yanking my hair.

I couldn't calm down or sit still. I was beyond hysterical. I remember feeling so upset but also so horribly guilty. "You guys have to believe me, I'm not making this up!" I remember crying out over and over. None of them thought I was making it up. None of them accused me of lying or embellishing the truth. They held me and comforted me. But I still felt so ashamed. Like I had somehow gotten myself into that situation. Or, even worse, that it hadn't actually happened at all and I was just being dramatic or making things up in my imagination. I clutched my head and pulled my hair and tried to shake loose some internal THING that would make sense of all this.

Somehow I managed to get on a flight home. Somehow I drove back to my house. My friends convinced me to go to the hospital and figured out where I had to go. Jessica came with me. We waited for hours and hours. Both of our phones died. We played endless games of "I'm thinking of something" and flew my rape pamphlet around like a bird. We may have become a bit delirious at around hour four.

They finally took me upstairs where I had to tell my story and be examined.
I was given painkillers and antianxiety medications.
I was given STD prophylactic antibiotics.
I was also given antiretrovirals because there was so much blood they said there was no way to know if it was all mine. I had lots of blood tests. They're all fine, so far.



I spent the week curled up on my couch and snuggled in bed and eating whenever somebody brought me food.

I stopped sleeping.
I cried. Oh, how I cried.


I kept asking myself how this had happened, what I had done wrong.



I became irritable and angry and sad and had an incredibly short fuse. I had mean outbursts at my family members and friends. I collapsed into inconsolable tears because I dropped my new camera in the dirt. I lay on the floor crying crying incapable of getting up. I became angry at myself because why couldn't I fixate my feelings onto the THING that happened to me, why did I have to get upset about everything else? It felt like I was perpetually operating at maximum capacity and if there was A SINGLE THING MORE I would fall to pieces.


I went to therapy.

I started taking medication. To lengthen my fuse, so to speak.

I wrote vague tweets about how upset I was and sent tons of middle of the night texts.

I received care packages and notes and cards and texts and love love so much love.

Gradually, so gradually that I don't even know that I noticed it at the time, I started to heal.
I worked. I hung out with friends. I therapized and processed. I spent a lot of time in various hospitals.

I had my police interview a few days ago. It was horrible.
They asked me what I wore that night from my earrings down to my shoes. They asked my friends if I'm a risk taker and if I "do this often." They asked what substances I had been on. They asked when the last time I had had sex before the incident. They made me tell the story from the moment I decided to go on my trip until I stepped off the plane back home. Then tell it again. Then write a statement. They asked doubtful questions about how much blood I was describing.
I had to hand over my dress and bra from that night as evidence. My underwear was gone.
They asked details about the night. What time was this, what time was that, where were you this, did he do that, what were you thinking at the time, what were you thinking afterward, why didn't you scream for help?
I don't remember. I don't remember. I don't remember. I don't remember. I don't remember. I don't remember.
I don't. Remember.

I had NOT wanted to go to the police. I absolutely did not. My sister had to sit down and convince me to call them and afterwards I cried and yelled at her. "You can be mad at me," she had told me. "But you have to call the police." Oh, I was mad at her.
I told the police my story over the phone. And then I told them in person. It took every ounce of courage I could muster to sit in that windowless room and describe to two men what had happened to me. I cried. But I did it. I answered all of their questions as completely and openly and honestly as I could.
They told me that these cases are difficult; that they don't usually go anywhere. But they keep the reports on file because the more women who come forward, the stronger the evidence becomes. Then asked me about my menstrual cycle.


It was humiliating. This has all been humiliating. I feel so exposed (says the girl telling her story on the internet).


The thing is, I know I had probably the best of circumstances.
I had a supportive group of friends and witnesses who were willing to put their lives on hold and travel to testify. I had an advocate who agreed to work on a Saturday in order to be with me during the proceedings. I had a detective who was actually pretty nice and said things like "I'm on your side," and "You did the right thing coming forward."
Bigger than that, I have a life full of kind people. A loving, unwavering family. Kind, loyal, generous friends. The outpouring of love and support I have received these past few weeks has left me breathless at times.
And I STILL barely survived this. I barely AM surviving this.

I have had my share of people saying terrible things.
Was he cute? Were you flirting?
What were you wearing? Were you drunk?
How did you get into that situation? It couldn't have been in full view of the bar.
How did it happen? You must have liked him at some point.


As if any of that matters. As if something that I did made this happen.


In case any of you thought that victim-shaming was a thing of the past, I am here to tell you that it is alive and well!
Oh, I went out that night in a short skirt and got far too inebriated. I laughed and smiled and twirled my hair and flirted.
And after it happened I felt tremendously guilty. How had I let this happen? What had I done? Why didn't I push him away harder? Why didn't I fight more? What would people think of me? WHAT had even happened in that little room?

It has taken the unyielding support of my friends, the unwavering love and consistency of my family, therapy, medications, and meetings with advocates and counselors to help me realize:



I was raped. And it was not my fault.



I told my story to my therapist; she suggested that I do that so that I could have and emotional release and fixate my feelings onto the actual event and not on everything else.
I told my story to an advocate from a local organization; she helped me pick apart the things I was obsessing over and realize they didn't make the incident my fault.
I told my story to my friends, the ones who asked. And some who didn't.
I told parts of the story to my family, too much of it would be too painful for them.
I told my story to the police, as much as it took out of me.

And now I'm telling you.

I'm telling you because I think I might be strong enough to share it now.
And I'm telling you because how many women go through this? It breaks my heart to think of the ones who are alone, who don't have supportive friends or families, who are doubted and flat-out accused of lying when they tell their stories, who are shamed by police or medical professionals or even their friends.
I am telling you my story for me, because I want you to know me. And, not to get all cliche on you, but I'm also telling it for all women.
Because for all of us to take a step in this world, one of us has to leap.

Deep Breath

Here is where I take a deep breath and put some space between my last post and my next. Because what I am about to tell you will take a lot out of me.

I haven't signed on here in over a month. A lot has happened, though things look pretty much the same around here. I look pretty much the same. But I feel completely different.

I hope you will read with an open mind and a kind heart. I want to have the strength to tell you my story.

Because I'm going to. Soon.

Scavenging

I have crossed off a few more items from my Birthday Scavenger Hunt!

16. read a book- I zoomed through Ready Player One and thoroughly enjoyed it. It was perfect for airport/plane reading, as well as staying up too late on a school night reading.


17. go out on the town with my ladies

Vegas!

23. make plans to go to at least one USC football game this year- 9/22 vs Cal. Gotta buy my plane ticket, but I have a place to stay and a friend with whom to go-- my old roomie of 4 years. Here's a throwback pic of us:

On the fountain run. A grand USC tradition.

21. make plans to visit my sisters- My mom bought me a plane ticket so that now for my actual birthday weekend, I can do my patented get-the-hell-out-of-town maneuver. Much like Valentine's day. And I have very fond memories of visiting my sister for what ended up being about two weeks around Valentine's day. I did a lot of lounging, hanging out with my nieces, going out to lunch with my sister, taking baths, reading, going to Target, wearing lounge pants, and other things I love to do. Her house feels like a home away from home. Or, more precisely, a my-parents'-house away from home.

8. drink a glass bottle Pepsi
2. eat at Hector's

Nom.

18. hold my baby niece
19. use my new hair ribbons

Check.

Weekend of Scavenging

This past weekend I crossed off a whopping SEVEN items from my Birthday Scavenger Hunt! I was fortunate enough to have some friends with me who were game to help me out, or perhaps also just enjoyed the types of things I had on my list.

29. go on a nice long walk
Jenny and I channeled our younger, poorer, stubborner selves for this one. Back a number of years ago, when I used to live in LA, would get gussied up to go out on the town in our tastefully(?) skimpy clothes (LA IS HOT) and teetery high heels and walk walk walk walk walk to and/or from our clubbing destination. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
So, this weekend, when there were no cabs to be had, we took a stroll. It worked for us then, so why not now?

We also found a leaning post.

(Whenever I lean against, oh, ANYTHING AT ALL, I can't help but think/say "That is a leaning post!" (I don't know why the video is weirdly cropped)).

14. hangover Panda Express
Yep. Looks about right.

We discovered that the San Bruno mall is a weird parallel universe of a place where the air outside smells like tomatoes and you can run all of your errands. I got new long enough scrub pants, and a set of spare keys made, and some new brars, and an eyeliner (from the Sephora INSIDE the JC Penny) and we ran out of time before we could even get to Target. I sort of think I'll try to go back there sometime and it just... won't be there.

15. eat a mall pretzel

A lot of my goals involve food. Mall pretzels are my favorite snack food.

10. go in a hot tub
(Time Machine)

The ethereal glow is the plastic bag wrapping my phone. Oh, and also our effervescent charisma.

27. wear one of my new rings
My mom gave me some new old rings when we went through the fancy jewelry:

Left to right: my grandmother's shamrock, my mom's opal, my great grandmother's onyx, my grandmother's peridot. I know I can't wear them all at once, but I really enjoyed trying them all on. It made me feel a bit like ol' PJ:

 Anyhow, I wore this one to a party:

Isn't it pretty?

I LOVE IT.

3. eat at Zabu Zabu
This place is a Japanese barbecue restaurant where if you pay $20 cash they will bring you platters of vegetables and meat as far as the eye can see, but my real addiction is the noodles.

So many noodles.

I am more posed than Jessica, but no less awkward. We stuffed ourselves, waddled on out of there, and managed to squeez in one last scavenger hunt item....

4. go to Target
Two words.

LOUNGE PANTS

75. make sure my nieces know basic self defense

Um. CHECK. Don't mess with these gals.

I didn't cross this off my list before because technically they took a mixed martial arts class, not an actual self defense class, so I wasn't sure it counted. That right there should illustrate just how boxed in I felt by the 'life list' rules. The scavenger hunt idea has already paid off in spades.
And, oh hey! This also takes care of item 24 on my Birthday Scavenger Hunt. See what I did there? It's a scavenger hunt WITHIN a scavenger hunt for ultimate Inception-style mind melting potential.

Birthday Scavenger Hunt

So. I'm turning thirty. In one month precisely. And I get that whole thing where people aren't supposed to care because what's the big deal? It's supposed to be one of those things that Society makes people feel like is this Important Milestone but in actual fact no one bats an eye because tra la la my life is just so fabulous; I'm too busy being me to stop and worry about what age I am!
Baloney, says I.
I've written this before: I thought I would be married in my early twenties. I was CERTAIN I would have kids by now. And I don't. And that makes me sad. I don't have the major things I wanted to have before I was thirty. And now thirty is within spitting distance. And that sucks.
I'm happy, generally. I have a terrific family, lovely friends, a great job, and a nice home. But I'm starting to feel like the Universe is playing some kind of prank on me because, I'm not even exaggerating, my last two dates were as follows:
- A guy I went out with twice who drunk dialed me, texted me seven times to explain the drunk dialing, and then, when I sent him a gentle 'hey this isn't going to work, I think you might be a little intense for me' text, texted me twenty five more times AND insisted we speak on the phone so that he could explain to me FOR AN HOUR that he was NOT, in fact, intense.
- A guy who brought me a painting and then asked me to shave his back.
Seriously, Universe. You're just fucking with me now, aren't you?

ANYHOW. My point! I shall make it. And it will tie in with the title of this post.
Basically, I was thinking about my life list the other day and how having those little accomplishments on a tidy list is nice and how it is a nice list of things I want to do. But it also kind of makes me feel kind of meh to have a big list of goals that I'm nowhere near to finishing and what if I DON'T do something on the list and I miss the opportunity and it's gone forever and GAH it's on my LIST and it's so STRINGENT and whatever shall I do? So I've decided that a better term for my list is a Life Scavenger Hunt. Because if I find the opportunity to cross the things off, great! If I don't? No big. If I want to substitute an item for another something because that's what feels more right in that moment? Works for me. And if I reinterpret something I have listed in order to fit in a fun, noteworthy experience? Still counts!
I think this is more appropriate. That list has remained essentially unchanged since the day I wrote it, two years ago. And now that I'm feeling cranky and aged, it's high time I changed the rules to accommodate myself and my crank and my age.
IN THAT VEIN, I hereby propose a thirty item list of things I would like to do before my thirtieth birthday. I'm turning thirty, and BY GOD I'm going to force a celebration out of it.
So here is my Celebratory Thirtieth Birthday Scavenger Hunt. You'll notice that it is chock full of rather small, attainable goals, meant to remind me to live like this whole month is be a celebration, even though I might want to draw the curtains and have a nice long weep about how I'm not achieving the things I really WANT and slouching toward my eventual grave, because I WILL squeeze some good feelings out of this birthday, so help me.
Birthday Scavenger Hunt
1. eat at Palapas
2. eat at Hector's
3. eat at Zabu Zabu
4. go to Target
5. go for a drive with my dad
6. flea market
7. see a movie
8. drink a glass bottle Pepsi
9. roller skate
10. go in a hot tub
11. get a haircut
12. get a pedicure
13. give away a bag of stuff to Goodwill
14. hangover Panda Express
15. eat a mall pretzel
16. read a book
17. go out on the town with my ladies
18. hold my baby niece
19. use my new hair ribbons
20. make plans to have my older nieces come visit me
21. make plans to visit my sisters
22. make plans to visit D in Oregon.
23. make plans to go to at least one USC football game this year
24. cross off an item from my Life Scavenger Hunt
25. run on the treadmill
26. make candied maple walnuts and bring them into work
27. wear one of my new rings
28. blog
29. go on a nice long walk
30. lounge
*Items may be substituted at any time, without notice.

Let the scavenge begin.

Grandfather Clock

I went to a barn sale a few months ago, which is sort of like a yard sale, only all the stuff has all been stored in a barn for a long long time.

And I bought this beauty:

Oh that? Is a life-size grandfather clock latch hook rug that someone obviously spent a heck of a long time making. I fished it out of a heap of stuff in the "Fill a box for $5" section of the sale.
And then I spent, erm, too much money having it framed:

And the other day I hung it up in my entryway:

As a sidenote, how 'bout my wee entryway? Do you see why when people ask me where the bathroom is, I tell them "Well, it's the only door in the apartment that doesn't lead to the hall."
Now I have a grandfather clock in my entryway, in the most ridiculous, kitschy, tacky way there possibly is to have a grandfather clock in one's entryway. And that just tickles me.
I love my new decorative piece; it really is timeless. ZING.

Things That are Awesome, An Incomplete List

1. My ten year old niece. Who got in trouble at school for saying the word "dude." A boy in her class was picking on her so she turned around and just said "DUDE!" and the yard teacher benched her. So, basically, my niece is badass.

2. My new piece of art that I found at a flea market for ten bucks. It's a painting of a turquoise antelope on a piece of copper. Hello new focal point for my kitchen shelves.

3. Also in the photo above-- that BOWL. I've had it for a few years, but recently zenned it into a key/things from my pockets receptacle. I used to lose my keys on a fairly regular basis amongst the random assortment of things that tend to accumulate on the couch, the table, or the kitchen counter. I think I've finally bested them. WHAT NOW, KEYS?

4. The following underused words, which I am reintroducing to my vocabulary:
Donkey- As in, "Quit being such a fucking donkey."
Bozo- As in, "Quit standing there like a goddamn bozo."
Buttocks (Pronounced like butticks)- As in, "I dislike it when gentlemen at the club fondle my buttocks without permission."

5. Being on the phone with Jenny after Gabriel's bedtime. You get to hear her shout thinks like:
"No, I don't believe that you need to go to the bathroom. Because you've gone to the bathroom three times in the past twenty minutes. Unless you have a urinary tract infection you do not have to pee again. What's that? You managed to squeeze out four more drops of pee? CONGRATULATIONS."
And: "No! I'm not telling you how to spell any more words! It's p-o-l-i-c-e! No! Not again! Sound it out!"
And: "IT'S AN HOUR AND A HALF PAST YOUR BEDTIME, YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY PAPER AIRPLANES, GO TO SLEEP! NO! I'M NOT TELLING YOU HOW TO SPELL ANY MORE WORDS!"

6. Those twirly bobby pin things that ACTUALLY DO hold my hair up and out of my face all day long.

7. Texts from my dad.

The Lie of Omission

I hate lying. Well, more specifically, I hate being lied to. I hate it when lies affect my life. I hesitate to choose one particular form of lying over another as my most abhorred, but if I were forced to pick I would probably say The Lie of Omission.

One of the biggest fights KC and I got into before we broke up was an epic battle over him wanting to hang out with his ex girlfriend. I actually wrote a sulky, emo post about it at the time. Ugh. Makes me queasy just rereading it. I remember how hurt and upset I was, and also how confused and embarrassed I felt because I just couldn't figure out WHY I had such a huge problem with it. KC was discussing it with me before he hung out with her, so what the hell was my deal? Like most of my emotional issues, I assumed it had something to do with my Crazy Ex. After you're with someone like that train wreck into crazytown, I think it can be particularly difficult to distinguish what are actual Valid Concerns and what is related to having PTSD from dating an emotionally abusive sociopath.

I was uncomfortable with the idea of KC spending time with his ex girlfriend. I tried to talk to him about it, and he got angry and accused me of not trusting him. Then he revealed that while she was in town, his ex girlfriend and had an "extra ticket" to a show on Saturday night and wanted him to go with her. And, by the way, he had been talking to her on the phone regularly and hadn't told me because he knew it was upset me.

And then I was like woah woah pump yo brakes, dude. Because THAT RIGHT THERE is exactly why I HATE HATE HATE The Lie of Omission. He didn't bring up the fact that he was doing something that would upset me because... he knew it would upset me. Here I was, puttering along, thinking we had an open, honest relationship, and KC was actively keeping something from me-- something that he thought would upset me. Whether or not the thing being kept from me WOULD HAVE upset me becomes irrelevant at this point, because I will always always ALWAYS be seventy six GABILLION more times upset when I discover that I was lied to about something and then found out the truth later.

KC's response? "Well, you never asked."

Which brings me to my point, four hundred words in: The Lie of Omission is a sneaky, manipulative lie.

The Lie of Omission turns the tables and makes you feel like it was somehow YOUR fault for not asking the SPECIFIC QUESTION that would bring it to light. The burden of truth is shifted to the LIEE instead of the LIAR. Apparently it was MY responsibility to ASK KC, "Hey, any chance you've been chatting with your ex girlfriend recently?" I CALL SHENANIGANS.

I'm going to be thirty this year, and it has taken me THIS LONG to pinpoint exactly what bothers me about The Lie of Omission. And yet I have been omission lied to for so many BIG DEALS, that now I have a categorically insane list of questions I feel like I have to ask any guy I date:
Are you married?
Have you ever been married?
Do you have a girlfriend?
Do you have a job?
Are you homeless?
Do you have any kids?
Is there a lady out there currently pregnant with your child?

Most guys look at me pretty strangely when I come out straight out gate with that litany of queries. But trust me, it wouldn't be on my list IF IT HAD NOT HAPPENED.

I dated my Crazy Ex for a FULL MONTH before he told me he had a two year old child. I didn't find out that he was married (and cheating on his wife) when we first met until after we broke up (and they were divorced).
I had another dude tell me he didn't have any kids, and two weeks later I found out that he had a pregnant ex girlfriend.
His excuse? "Well, you didn't ask."

And this past weekend, apparently I made another grievous error. I went out to a club with my lovely lady friends, we ended up joining in with some gentlemen there for a dude's bachelor party. There was one guy in particular who spent the entire evening flirting with me, dancing with me, and generally being rather touchy-feely. At the end of the night, he said "Yeah, sorry you got the wrong impression, but I'm engaged." Not sorry IF you got the wrong impression, sorry YOU GOT the wrong impression. Burden of truth: SHIFTED TO ME. Silly little woman, you thought the dude trying to rub his body all over you was available? Tsk tsk.

I told the dude "Hey, if you're engaged, you might not want to grind up on girls at the club. Just an idea [sarcastic jazz hands]. Also, I feel kind of sorry for your fiance." And then I tossed my hair and got the hell out of there before I burst into furious tears. I felt embarrassed and angry and like I had made a huge error in judgment. But then my friends assured me that, no, our flirtation WAS NOT all in my head. I had witnesses to the fact that he had been CLEARLY pursuing me and chatting me up. AND, I remembered later, when the DJ said "All the single people put ya hands up!" HE PUT HIS HANDS UP.

But his douchey "Sorry you got the wrong impression" comment had made me feel like it was somehow MY FAULT that I didn't know he was engaged. Because The Lie of Omission is sneaky and manipulative.

Are you engaged? has now been added to my list of questions. Because I don't care how ridiculous I'm going to appear as long as it means that I have some defense against The Lie of Omission. There won't be another "Well, you didn't ask" situation if I can help it. So help me, I WILL ASK.
Because the best defense against manipulative douchebaggery? Being one step ahead of the douchebags.

Potpourri: Recently

Today marks one month since I started my new job. And can I just point out that from an external perspective of someone who perhaps doesn't know me that well or read my blog, it might appear that I graduated, took my test, and WHABAM had a job within days. I'm thinking of reframing my memories and living in THAT reality. Because I am still pretty excited that I have this job.
This is my last week of training before I go solo with my responsibilities next week. I am nervous. I told my sister that and she said "Eh, don't worry. In six months you'll feel like you've been there your whole life."
Thankssss.... ?
I really like my job, so far. There are some quirky things about it that I particularly enjoy and since I'm not going to talk about my patients (hi HIPAA!), I'll share them:
- You can't eat anywhere except the conference room and there are usually people working or having a meeting in there. So a couple times a day I open the door, step in and stand there awkwardly eating my emergencheese (the cheese sticks I carry in my pockets for emergencies. GET IT? Emergencheese for emergencies!). People sometimes ask "Uh. Did you need something?"
- There is a passcoded, locked door that opens to, no joke, a six foot drop into the street. It's not a loading dock. It's not an exit. Or, at least it's not an exit NOW. It might have been one at some point when they were planning to build stairs.
- My office is the size of a stall shower. I actually like it. It's more of a nook. It doesn't have a door. With a six foot drop or otherwise.

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I went to Hawaii. HOT TIP: If your best friend says "Hey, I wanna go to Hawaii in March. You should come." You really should. Evidence:

The cool thing about the time difference is getting to the beach at 7AM when it is EMPTY.

We are SERIOUS about our sun protection. I don't stay this lily white by accident.

Gabey liked the pool best.

We snorkeled. I had to forcefully talk myself down from having a panic attack because SNORKELING IS FUCKING SCARY what with all the listening to my own heavy loud breathing and seeing the sandbar drop off into giant chasms and having to adjust my mask in the open ocean and swim back to shore AGAINST THE TIDE.

We got the feeling that people thought we were a couple on vacation with our adopted son. Because the first thing you think when you see two women and one kid together is never, 'Ah. They must be friends.'

I found a flower THE SIZE OF MY HEAD.

We swam, we lounged about, we got lost in our books, we loosely supervised Gabriel at the pool while he made friends with other kids and turned into a fish, we had fancy drinkies, we ate lots of chips and salsa.

I'd say that about sums it up.

---

Last weekend somebody asked me what I would buy if I had $500 to spend at Target. "Only at Target, though." he stipulated, as if that might slow me down. "Groceries!" I said, "New sheets! Nice towels! Bins for organizing my things! Packing tape! Wait... this makes me sound really boring. I don't care! Laundry detergent!" Best game ever.

---

Unrelated to any of the above: I bought myself a jackelope for Easter.

I got it from a flea market! Just kidding. It's from Modcloth. Sigh. That would have been the MOTHER of all flea market finds, wouldn't it?

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I've found that I can basically get one productive task done per day after I get home from work. One day is cooking. One day is laundry. One day is vacuuming. One day is paying bills. One day is buying groceries. Today's task was blogging.