Flower budget

One of my guy friends admitted to not being the romantic sort. He was horrible at public displays of affection. I still remember the weekend I visited Los Angeles and I hung out with him and his girlfriend (at the time). They've since gotten married. I think he's actually a softee inside, but for some reason or other, he was incapable of holding hands in public. The only thing he could do to show his undying affection, though, was to make sure that his girl always had a bouquet of fresh flowers at her place. So when the flowers started wilting, he'd show up with new flowers to replace the old. It's a really sweet gesture. Those Korean guys really have it down.

It would be nice for mom to have a flower budget too. I don't think my dad is the type to buy flowers for mom. Thinking about setting aside a flower budget for mom. She'll have to buy her own flowers, though, since she's thousands of miles away. Knowing her, she'll think it's an impractical idea and just save the money for rainy days...... sabe dios.

Predestination vs. free will

I think this may be the age old question. Starting freshman year in high school, this has been a repeated theme. Back in the day, the motif seemed confined to the text book and interpretive essay, or maybe it was only allocated about 30 minutes of real thought in a day. But I kind of believe that everything happens for a reason. I’m just caught in the middle on whether or not someone’s fighting spirit and will for things to end up a certain way are significant in the big picture. Maybe we should just let loose and let the sail go the way it wants to…. Smooth sailin.

Go-to person

I’m a real sucker for those side bar ads, the ones that advertise Robert Mondavi concert series, or SF Broadway Les Miserables. I’m always on the edge of my seat, on the verge of signing up for these things. They come around now and then, though I’ve seen Les Miserables twice already, and I’ve been to a healthy share of concerts where I didn’t particularly enjoy the music, but the venue and the glossy idea of enjoying a nice summer evening out was just enticing enough for me to spring for it.

I think I’m going to the Jason Mraz concert, though, taking the place of my best friend’s fiancé. He’s not that into Jason Mraz. But it’s a new change now that I’m kind of that substitute attendee. The problem stems from not having a go-to person. Before people started pairing off in this seemingly explosive rate, all friends were go-to’s. Now, I’m one level down on the list. Which I guess is a price to pay for also not having to be someone else’s’ go-to. Haha. I definitely don’t miss this. Sitting around watching football all Sunday? Nooooo thank you. We can’t always get what we want! Now I need to figure out who I can victimize into going to 2013 Itzhak Perlman at the Disney Concert Hall… He’s not going to live forever L.

Movie wish list of late

Jiro Dreams of Sushi
Monsieur Lazhar
Elles
Battleship
The Dictator

Conscientiousness

My boss is an extremely conscientious person. It’s refreshing to work for someone like that in our industry. They say it all boils down to the bottom line, but I think a lot of people take that idea too shortsightedly and just run with it. I’ve seen my boss take a hit for a lot of things, or I’ve seen her leave money on the table just because it was the ethical thing to do. Her generosity and magnanimity seemingly knows no bounds. I see this on a day to day basis, and perhaps that’s why people love working with her. Everyone I’ve talked to who knows her, even outside my firm, tell me how great it must be to work for her. She keeps things real. We’re in the people business, after all.  

Projectile Spit

Some hobo just spat at me on the streets. I was just walking on front street to get some lunch, and some hobo sitting on the ground about five feet from where I was walking maliciously threw profanities and spat at me. Some of it got on me .... I was livid for a few moments, but I'm honestly not sure what to do with a delusional, angry, spewing hobo.

Strange

I had a crazy nightmare last night, that didn’t come back to my consciousness until about an hour after I was already awake. I dreamt that I died. But it was still a sort of supernatural dream, because in the dream, I was dead, and my mom was burning incense paper for me. I guess this is what Chinese people do so that ghosts/spirits have wealth and food or whatever in the abyss. I’m not a huge believer in that kind of stuff, nor is my mom, of all people. But anyway, in the dream, she was hugging me and comforting me about my own death. All the while, I was sobbing like a mofo. Yesterday was Mother’s Day.

How weird is that?

I’m tempted to Google search what this might mean. Though I’ve read interpretations of another dream I’ve had a few times – that my teeth crumbled and fell out. I guess it’s a common enough dream that people have, and apparently it goes along the lines of feeling like you’re losing control in life. My best guess is this one is about the same, and it happened to coincide with Mother’s Day. I wish we could videotape our dreams and watch them as movies.

100 Target runs

I’m just starting to fine-tune my wedding etiquette.

When I first started attending peer weddings, I made some bad calls. I think at one point I RSVP’d for a wedding and ditched the reception. The bride sat me down afterwards and told me about proper etiquette (and how much a head costs for reception), and then I felt horrible for what an ass I must have been. Up to that point, I thought wedding receptions were always buffet style (I’d only been to budget Chinese weddings as a kid, apparently), or kind of like a birthday party (again, I’d only been to budget Chinese weddings as a kid, apparently). Haha. Along with breaking bread, wedding etiquette is going to be one of the lessons I teach my future kids, because I still can’t look that bride in the eye without turning into a puddle of angst, shame, and remorse.

In true Californian fashion, most modern weddings are beautiful. But beauty, of course, comes at a cost. After talking to close friends and family who have gotten married lately or are planning a wedding soon, a decent wedding costs as much as a really nice car, or even a down payment on a home. So naturally, it’s understandable that there are people who wouldn’t make the invite list. I’ve long since come to terms with this reality, but something I’m still trying to figure out is where friendships fall in line with wedding invitations.

I’ve heard this story a few times, as well as experienced it firsthand. There are some friends who mysteriously disappear post-engagement. Once consistent people become suddenly caught up in work - indefinitely. I'm sure the avoidance is nothing personal, but it just turns into an awkward dance around the big elephant in the room. Haha. It's okay, really! Really, REALLY! What are we gonna do with Dumbo, then?

This whole wedding planning thing sounds like a nightmare. The supposed most genuine decision in your life seems to get marred by friendship hierarchy, colliding social circles, and exploding dinner budgets? Let’s reassess.

I think if the time ever comes for me to write invite lists of my own, I'm going to make a few arbitrary cut-off criteria. The first one will be people who have gone on at least 100 Target runs with me. It's unassuming, it's time-tested, it's real. That's love :).

Comatose

It's another slow day at work today, mostly because my boss is fifteen time zones away and we catch each other barely. Most days we catch each other never. I feel like it's been 11am for hours. I found this old blog, which I apparently haven't revisited in over a year. It’s always interesting to look back at thoughts, how we may or may not have progressed. I still agree with a lot of things that I used to think, so either I’m a consistent person (mentally), or I’ve failed to progress and challenge myself.

I have many lost thoughts in cyberspace, I think. Facebook is a good channel for entertainment, but nobody really cares for inane ramblings like they used to in the days of Xanga. Our attention spans generally last as long as a hash tag and a picture. They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but maybe this is also a result of us, well, growing up. Maybe we were idler and freer to explore and magnify our thoughts during the college years, when all our peers were hungry to digest new ideas, even if they were about nonsensical things like ice cream brand comparisons. The possibilities were endless.

I went to Berkeley.edu for some inspiration, to see what’s been going on at my alma mater. I guess it is commencement season, and fresh new graduates will be entering the work force with open minds and high hopes. Every year I loosely plan to attend the commencement ceremony for nothing more than the speakers, because who doesn’t need a little inspiration and humor? Those speeches are rejuvenating, though my plans easily clog with weekend brunches, out-of-towner visits, vacations, and a plethora of social obligations. Every now and then, life’s buzzing sounds crescendo into a deafening white noise.

Here’s the problem: in line with the proverbial grass always being greener on the other side, it has become immensely dangerous for someone like me, whose family and friends have always enabled me to, well, go see the other side. Because that’s exactly what I’ve done my whole life. But now, I think I’m kind of in a metaphoric comatose state. I’m physically functioning at full capacity, but I feel like my mind is often underutilized, possibly atrophying, and highly unconscious.

They all call this restlessness.