Entry 34: Prepping for Desert Heat

I’ve been in the desert for about a year, and have been getting compliments on the tan that I’ve acquired.

What can I say? In being graced by sun majority of the year, my Filipino was bound to come out. I don’t know for sure if that’s why I don’t ever burn and just tan nicely, but it’s the only logical reason I can think of.

Not to say that I have never gotten sunburned ever

There was one time I burned really bad: Husband and I had gone to Hawaii and I got super dark because he gave me tanning oil, instead of sun-protection. I fell asleep under the sun and woke up 3 hours later so burnt, it hurt to shower for weeks. Even the locals’ eyes filled with pity as they saw me teetering around the shops in my burnt skin. That’s when you know it’s bad, when the locals feel bad for you.

I learned my lesson (tanning oil is not a replacement for SPF), and since then have not gotten sunburned, but I’m still not excited for the inevitable surge of heat during the coming months. As I’m writing this, my memory is getting flashbacks to last summer, when it got over 100 degrees and just walking a quarter of a mile became the longest walk ever.

It’s the kind of heat that makes it suck to even breathe, where even wearing nothing doesn’t help. Where the only thing that helps is sitting in an air-conditioned place and doing nothing but eating something cold, like icecream, or popsicles, or frozen grapes, with the tv on and the remote within reach.

If only every day I had an excuse for doing just that.

Until next time….


Entry 34: Prepping for Desert Heat

Entry 32: Case of the EX

I’m instagram buddies with an ex-boyfriend who had broken my heart when I was 22. I suppose it’s to prove that I have no ill-will towards him, but whenever I see a picture he had taken posted on my feed, I still feel a hint of the pasts’ bitterness gurgling at the pit of my stomach.

What a fuckin idiot. 

Our breakup (while putting me through 9 months of post-breakup ugly crying and questioning my own self-worth) actually led me to a more blessed life, but as much as I try – that bitterness still lingers.

The thing is, I don’t want it to be there. I want to be able to think of that time of my life – the love, the heartache, the depression – and be okay with it, to acknowledge it without negativity, because life did turn out great despite not knowing how I would be able to go on.

Taylor Swift is known for writing songs about past relationships. It’s probably very therapeutic for her, but it makes me think that the reason for my animosity is because it’s all pent up… in the crevice of my heart somewhere. I guess I should try letting it out more?

Anyways, until next time….


Entry 32: Case of the EX

Entry 27: Getting a Job

Earlier today, a recruiter called saying he had an opportunity that he thought would be good for me

When’s the earliest you can start? 

The question made me anxious, mainly because making snap decisions is against my nature. I like to brew on things, look at things from all angles and possibilities before making a decision. While in some instances this can be good,  it tends to over complicate things that don’t necessarily need to be over complicated. Like, do I want chocolate or vanilla ? I don’t know. It depends, is there a possibility that the chocolate could potentially get on what I am wearing? or get on my face? There’s so many factors!

So when posed with the question of when I could start, in my head I was like,ahhh I don’t know! I have to think about this. This is a lot right now! 

Instead, I heard myself say “Monday.”

After I hung up, I felt a little uneasy about it. I didn’t feel uneasy about the idea of getting a job, per se, but the fact that the idea didn’t really get a chance to settle within me.  There’s so much to brew on when going through life-changing things. Like the fact that I’ll have to do my workouts after work, and that I have to be more efficient with everything I do because I won’t have the opportunity to take my time doing things or take a nap.

It’s funny though, how whenever I’m working, I don’t want to work, and when I don’t work, the idea of working seems all the more appealing. If only there was a job where I could just get paid for doing something that would allow me to take naps whenever I wanted.

Anyways, I’m probably over-complicating it all. Everyone has to deal with juggling life, and while I have been fortunate to have not had to work these past few months, it’s something that I’ll have to figure out. On the plus side, maybe now I can go ahead and just get my instant pot that I’ve been wanting for months now.

Until next time….

Entry 27: Getting a Job

Entry 18: Anniversaries

May is my anniversary month, a time where it has become a traditional joke to remind people of when A passed out at his own wedding.

If you were there you probably remember the words “omgosh” coming out of your mouth, and if you weren’t there, you’ve had to settle for third person accounts of the day.

Now, I’m not one who generally provides the world with daily status updates of my undying love for my husband; it’s there, but frankly, I find excessive internet affection annoying. And by excessive I mean like every 30 seconds :: status update:: my significant other is amazing. Then 30 seconds later ::status update:: my significant other is more amazing than they were 30 seconds ago.

These are the same people who take a million pictures of the cheesecake they had for dinner at a million different angles, a thing that could essentially be summarized in 1 picture that yes, there was a cheesecake…and yes, it was amazing.

But I digress.

I do like sharing what goes on in my head during really big occurrences in my life (because my brain is funnily all over the place) …like the first time I met A.

Now, I get that every love story begins with the same Oh, my heart was beating so fast and there were butterflies everywhere! different color butterflies just fluttering….  I’m pretty sure they were flying in my face while we googly eyed all night…. 

But let me premise this by saying that at the time of our first date,  I had been saturating my reads with trashy historical romance novels. You know, the kind with the Gaelic Laird who finds an English damsel in distress who, upon seeing the mighty warrior with powerful thighs and  his devilishly handsome grin, starts having these feelings that go against everything she had learned from her pure virtuous upbringing with the nuns. Though she tries to resist these thoughts, she finds herself blushing at the very thought of what it would be like… to just …straddle him.

You might laugh, but these books do exist; I know because I have read  a lot of them and I still read them from time to time. While some people find guilty pleasure in keeping up with the Kardashians, Britney Spears, or watching YouTube videos on “how to twerk”, my guilty pleasure is trashy historical romance novels that often leave me wishing I had that experience of being saved from a locked tower of some sort.

But what does this have to do with the first time I met A?

In being so saturated in these books, the first time I opened the front door and saw A, with his 6ft plus self and muscles just …everywhere, he was literally the biggest person I had ever stood next to, mainly because I hung around Asians 99 % of the time. It sequentially made me think about all the Gaelic Lairds I had ever read about, which then made me come to the realization that this … this being in front of me is what  all the fictional damsels were probably looking at when they were getting all hot and bothered.

I am pretty sure my first words were something along the lines of “hey”,  but my thoughts could only revolve around one word:


.. and that my friends, was my first impression. It’s been 8 years since that epic event in my life, and after 6 years of marriage,  reminiscing about the first whoa always puts a smile on my face.

Entry 18: Anniversaries

Entry 16: When Your Friends Have Babies

One of my best gal pals is having a baby as I write this, and I can’t help but be filled with a feeling of excitement mixed with anxiety, that I feel that I need to write out.

I know, I know… I’m not the one who’s in a birthing room about to pop a child out, but watching  a lot of my friends get pregnant and have children has made me think about how everything would be when the time comes, God-willing.

Like, it amazes me how moms just innately differentiate when a baby’s cry  is because the kid has to poop, versus has to eat. Or how a room can be completely silent because the baby is 2 rooms away, and a mom will have the 6th sense to be like, oh – my baby just rolled over. I’m usually the one who is like,  What the shit just happened? How did you know?!?!

I guess it’s all in the power of bonding with a child, the kid’s swimming in your belly for 9 months, of course a mother’s going to know these things.

Although, I’m skeptical when some moms say things like, my baby is trying to tell you that he wants  chocolate.  In my head, I’m like – are you sure about that? a. The kid’s like 3 months old and b. I’m pretty sure that the kid’s just blinking at me. And even if they wanted chocolate, are you sure you’re not just projecting your own want for chocolate?

Then again, I’m not a parent or a baby whisperer, so I can’t say.

Another thing that I don’t quite understand is posting on social media a million pictures of a baby doing one action. Like, rolling over. Or eating. I get that kid’s are cute and I agree it’s important to capture moments so that it can be remembered in the future, but does the world really need to see 40 pictures of ‘baby eating carrot for the first time’ when it’s essentially the same picture documenting the one event?

I don’t know. There is no right or wrong answer with that and really, people are free to do whatever makes them happy. Like I said, my understanding of all this is based on the fact that I am not a parent, but I know that my outlook on things could become different once that life status changes.  I mean, I already post a ton of pictures of my dogs that probably make some people say stuff like: Come on Winter, another picture of Coco laying on her belly? or… Another picture of Gage flopping his ears?  ::Unfollow:: I don’t care. To me, my dogs are the cutest and they make me happy, so – if people want to share a million pictures of their child running through a forest, that’s cool.

Anyways, my head is just swimming with so many other thoughts revolving  babies, I don’t even know where to go with it. But they say it all comes together when it happens: the 6th sense, the knowing if you’re baby is crying because it needs to poop, burp, or if it needs  a piece of chocolate. And if you don’t know something, you learn so that you can be a baby guru for future moms who end up feeling the same anxiety.

in that sense, I’m lucky that I have a lot of baby gurus to turn to if I have questions whether or not what my child is doing is normal?  So, it will all work out.


Entry 16: When Your Friends Have Babies

Entry 15 : Becoming A Jaded Old Asian Lady

The idea of being “old” is subjective: some consider the age of 30 to be old, others think of 50 as over the hill.  And then there are those who believe that one’s attitude towards life defines the perceived youth, regardless of actual age.

With that being said, the older I get, I find myself being a jaded old Asian lady, more often than not.

Case in point: husband and I went out to eat at this restaurant/bar in the University district a few months ago. The place was full of college kids: sorority girls who wore short shorts that hugged just above cusp of their butts, and were matched with off-the-shoulder sweaters that labeled the Greek sorority letters of “Alpha Beta Phi”. Or was it Alpha Beta Zeta? I know there is probably some sister out there who, slightly offended, is like… “actually, it says Beta Sigma Chi”, and to that person I say, “whatever. I really don’t care”.

There were also the frat boys who wore hats that said “Pimpin” sideways on their head and sunglasses inside the restaurant because they saw a rapper do it in a music video so surely it wasn’t an idiotic thing to do.

And then  there were other kids who were neither sorority or frat, but who were just hungry for the burrito that – at this point in their lives  – would not result in a weight gain of any sort

These young adults were so full of hope and a sense of optimism; seeing them in the vibrancy of their youth made me want to  roll my eyes and just be like, ugh…..  I hated that I felt that way, but I couldn’t help it.  Perhaps it was because I had been like them once: so innocent of the world, full of dreams, and with no concern for existing credit card debt, paying mortgages, or the fact that poop needed to picked up on Mondays because Tuesdays was trash day.

More so than that, these young people represented a time in my life when I was insecure, overly shy, and so concerned with what the world thought; there are so many things I wish I had done differently. Like, I wish that when sitting next to Brandon Roy (UW  basketball player back in the day, went on to play for the Trailblazers)  in anthropology class, I hadn’t been such a dork with my “So you play basketball… are you any good?” line. Shit,  I very well knew he played basketball, and very well knew he was the best player on the team.  He never sat next to me again, probably because he was like this chick is weird . I sigh in regret every time I think of this interaction; it could have been the start of a friendship that would have opened up a friendship with other basketball players.

While there are other shoulda, coulda, woulda moments from my formative years that I wish I could do over, what I have learned  in growing older is that I can either sit and sulk in regret, which will undoubtedly lead me further into a pathway of jadedness and get me no where in life, or I can look at every experience with a sense of gratitude for teaching me a life lesson that has helped me grow into a better person. My choices – good and bad – have led me to the road that I am in now. Which to be honest, is a road that is blessed beyond measure.

And so, when in the midst of young people who are living in the vibrancy of their youth, I remind myself this: I had my time; this is their time. Besides, life now is great, I may be older and may have lost my limberness and some perkiness in my boobs, but at least I’m not {as} naive and broke. Well  – I personally am broke,  because I technically don’t have a job, but as a combined income with my husband…. well…. you know what I mean.


Entry 15 : Becoming A Jaded Old Asian Lady

Entry 14: Making Friends

The other day husband was like… we should hang out with our dentist.

Me : The young one? The one that just moved from Boston? 

Husband: Yea, he and his girlfriend like hiking.

I began to mentally visualize how “asking him out” would go.

I imagined me, calling his office to have the following conversation with the front desk lady:

Can I speak to… Dentist Bob … There’s no dentist Bob? uhhh.. who’s the guy that just moved from Boston in January? … oh, he’s not from Boston… well, okay. The new guy.. yea.. can I be connected? 

and once connected to the dentist whose name I thought was “Bob”, I would be like

yea I know this sounds weird but… you and your girlfriend are new…we’re new… you seem cool…you want to go hike sometime? 

I understand if you felt awkward reading that; I felt awkward writing it… and then just reread and felt awkward all over again. But knowing me, that is exactly how that conversation would go.

The thing is, I’ve never been good at starting conversations with random people. I’ve always been that girl who introverted into a corner or blended in the background of a crowd while the social people socialized. Maybe after a few drinks, you could catching me in a Game of Thrones debate,  but then again that debate would still be occurring in the back corner of a crowd.

(Sidetrack: Since we touched on the Game of Thrones topic, someone tell me.. is John Snow dead? Or is he alive? I know I’ve harped on this question before,  but it’s been bugging me for like a year..and if you think he’s dead why the heck is he in all the promos that Peter Dinklage (Tyrian)has been posting on his Facebook page. Yes I’m not going to lie, I follow Tyrian)

But seriously, making new friends in a new place  where you know no one (as an adult) is like dating: you’re forced to go places, make yourself presentable, and break out of your comfort zone to strike up conversations.  While some people are naturally outgoing and find dating easy peasy, Lord knows it was something I was never good at.

I mean, if you look at my non-impressive resume, it quotes me at having officially dated 3 people in my entire life, and the number of times of having been hit on, being a guestimated number of… well? … Let’s say 5. (5 is not a lot but doesn’t seem pathetic, right? ). Whether or not those particular times can be labeled as “being hit on”is subjective as it is a proven fact that I am horrible at reading  flirtatious signs unless someone literally says hey, you’re cute. I’m hitting on you. Right now. 

It is also a said fact that I have natural don’t-talk-to-me- bitch face when casually doing day to day things, like crossing the street, picking out candy in the candy aisle, or cutting out coupons from a newspaper. So perhaps more credit is due to those 5 individuals that were brave enough to  even talk to me, flirting or not.

I know, I know. If I want to make friends, I need to make an effort to put myself in social situations, I need to put that bitch face away, comb my hair, go put some pants on,  and stop getting sucked into Spanish talk shows that I can’t even understand (but I can’t stop! his girlfriend is cheating on him with his brother?!? …or is it cousin ? wait.. hermano means brother so it has to be the brother!!!…ay dios mio!!).

Once out there, the question becomes how do you start  a random conversation with random people? 

I’ve come up with a few conversation starters for making friends at the gym:

Are you using this equipment? 

I like your tattoo.

Your shoes are really cute.

and … the one that I think in my head, but am on the fence of actually telling a random girl lest she might think I swing that way:

I just want to say …that you are so fit. 

I don’t know…maybe the difficulty of it all is just in my head and I should just let whatever will be, be knowing that life has the tendency to gravitate people to form friendships. These things take time and effort to cultivate and I can’t expect in instant local bosom buddy (To quote Anne of Green Gables) to randomly share my deepest secrets, like the fact that I’ve been putting off wearing shorts because a. I haven’t shaved my legs in a couple of weeks, and b. I’m self-conscious about the color of my legs being much lighter than my arms. Ugh… I know! I can only wear jeans for so long before it gets too hot here.

Back to the topic friends, we’ve only been here a few months and have already made a few awesome and amazing friends  that we hang out with (you know who you is!) so I think we’re on a good start.   Yea …I’ll continue put away that bitch face to make myself more approachable and converse in random conversation with the confidence that the we’re some pretty cool people and will make more awesome friends in no time. I mean, I’m a decent cook. I’m pretty dorky which some people find  endearing. If you like shopping , I like to shop.  We like to hike, and work out a lot. We like craft brews, and vino, and I like to color and do crafty stuff. We like Game of Thrones and Walking Dead, and we have  a pool. …Shit, I’d want to hang out with us. lol.

Yea, we’ll  will have all the friends in no time.


Entry 14: Making Friends