Spring cleaning

Why hello. Long time no see, my old friend.

So I just re-read my old Wall-e post because I got a new comment posted on it. It really does surprise me when people randomly find this blog. I hardly update it and never have anything substantial to write about. Except for that one Wall-e post. I also find that I can't write anymore. Halfway through reading my post, I thought, "wow this is good, that's exactly how I felt" before I realized I was reading my own post I had written two years ago. Isn't that sad?

My lack of proper use of grammar, vocabulary, and interesting sentence structure can be blamed on the quantity of writing and reading I've been doing lately. One would think that the stimulation would promote creative juices and an intellectual flow of ideas and thoughts. I think I hit that plateau and now I'm overstimulated and overwhelmed. So much so that all the writing and reading has backfired and now I'm one incoherent lump of a student/employee. That's bad!

Life has been interesting lately. I go through bouts of hope and excitement, then suddenly get hit by fatique, annoyance, and my own set of life rules. I hope I'm not bipolar!! ;) No, I'm not, just dealing with a lot lately and having to balance work, school, and life and its upsets wreaks havoc on my grounded nature. If I give a little, I sometimes end up feeling like I'm condoning bad behavior and setting precedences; if I don't give in and compromise my principles, I feel bad and unpopular and wonder if sticking to my guns really makes a difference. I wonder if my principles and life rules make me unapproachable in that others think they will be judged. What is it that they say? Those who critize others are often the most critical of themselves? Yeah, that's me.

I speak vaguely on purpose because I don't want to give any details or examples of what's been causing this undue stress. So let's just think about the positives:

1) Ricklet and I got our refund check from the IRS! YESS!! Time to put that away for Italy, baby! Although I let Ricklet have the state check and he went out and bought new golf irons today. ;) My mother-in-law is right; I do spoil my husband!

2) Fun trips coming up! Napa at the end of the month and Morro Bay in June.

3) I have only 3 more quarters left of school - that's 5 classes! Summer quarter is my last core course and Intro to Databases. Fall is one required course and one elective (I'll be taking Children's Literature - that should be so much fun!) and Winter is my last required course. I'm so stoked! I'll be "degreed" in March 2011 and probably walk in the June commencement ceremonies in Philly. :)

4) I think I have approval for a conference in October in Pittsburgh. Never been to PA before and I'm going to try to get Ricklet to come with me.

I'm also hoping to get some work done on the house. Like unpack. ;) Still have a lot of boxes left, stacked up in a nice little area of the office. Obviously I don't need anything in there, right? ;) I haven't done any crafts or sorted out the wedding leftovers. And the garage needs to be cleaned out. Still have the last few items down there from the old apartment. When I'm done with this quarter in early June, I want to paint or change out some fixtures in the house before summer quarter starts. Somehow the place still doesn't feel like ours even though we've been there for almost a year now. And I can't enjoy it until it feels like home.

Another thing that has been on my mind is babies. Babies! What?! Yes, you heard me right, BABIES! Well, maybe just one baby for now. ;) But Ricklet and I have plans... and babies aren't in the plans for another few years. How do you know when your clock has begun ticking? Because I didn't hear or feel mine start and suddenly it's not ticking anymore, but the bomb at the end of the timer has already exploded! How did that happen without my knowing? I usually listen carefully to my body...

Busy Busy

What have I gotten myself into lately?!

Well, first of all, I got bitten by the travel bug and have this urgent need to book hotel rooms in any location. Let's get a room in the next city! It's just too far to drive back home!

But I seriously need to get cracking on these final papers. I've got one due on Sunday and the other due on Tuesday. And I just started my first one yesterday. Don't even know what I'm going to write for the second one. YIKES! *sigh*

So here's my calendar. I'm such a social butterfly these days it seems.

Tomorrow, March 12: Lunch with Lizzy Lucus and Evie. I met Liz back in my piano-pounding days. We were duet partners. She grew up and got her education in piano performance. I grew up and forgot all about my key signatures and technique. Through the magical world of Facebook, I discovered that Liz was a mutual friend between me and Evie, a girl who works in my building. So that's what this lunch is all about. And baby Madeleine, Lizzy's 2nd child, is turning ONE! Lizzy managed to make it to our wedding and then gave birth to Madeleine two days after!

March 14: Paper due. Also going to California Adventure to redeem the free part of Ricklet's 2fer ticket. Not sure how that will work out....

March 20: Possibly lunch with Viv, who's getting married on the same day as Carli. :) All this Clairbourn activity.

March 27: Bella's 2nd birthday party!!! Gotta help out with the carnival set-up. I think I'm manning the tattoo booth.

March 29: Bella's REAL 2nd birthday! And Spring quarter starts. ;(

April 3: Paul and Sarah's baby shower. *sigh*

April 10: Joey's 1st birthday party, up in Santa Barbara.

April 16: Taylor Swift concert with Carina!

April 17: Victor and Wendy's wedding in Fullerton. Annettie pie's wedding is this day too :( so I can't make it to what I imagine will be the most unique wedding ever with some traditional Armenian flair.

April 24: Glen Ivy! This is our $ saving idea for our anniversary celebration.

April 25: Madeleine's 1st birthday party! Already RSVPed no since it's our anniversary weekend... but maybe I'll change my mind later since we're planning on Glen Ivy the day before.

May 28-30: Carli's bachelorette party in Napa!!

June 13-19: Our annual summer getaway trip. We just decided today to head up the California coast again and do a road trip during single week of my "summer break," up through Cambria and Big Sur to Monterey (just for the aquarium), stopping up and down the coastline for a week. :) At the end of which is the beginning of the Summer quarter. ;(

July 10: Carli and Don's wedding in Sorrento Valley! (and Viv's wedding in Fallbrook).

Gosh. That's a lot of parties and stuff. I don't know when I'm going to have time to concentrate on hardcore stuff like digital library technologies and competitive intelligence. Huh?

:)

Valentine's Day 2010

This post is not actually about Valentine's Day 2010. But I thought it would be better to have a neater title than OMG I HAVEN'T POSTED ANYTHING SINCE OCTOBER?!

But it's true. Egads. Holy what. No post of any substance since the wedding. Oh, the wedding. *tear* I miss wedding planning! Now my life is all about me-time in the car on my commute, and school. It's week 6 of Digital Libraries and Information Services in Organizations. Both have heavy workloads, but the DL class is probably by far the most interesting and challenging course I've taken. Too much to learn and coherently spit back out, and there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day for learning before the assignments are due.

Well anywho. There are lots of odds and ends that I could talk about. But then they'd be just that: odds and ends.

So I guess I'll just write down my schedule for the sake of additional content. ;)

Feb. 6: We went to a cute baby shower that had a Dodger theme. There was a cotton candy machine, a popcorn cart machine, hot dogs and nachos and all that. Fun!

Feb. 7: We had a Super Bowl party at our house. Carina and I finished off 2.5 bottles of wine by ourselves. I was feeling pretty awesome until they all left and I laid down. Then I morphed from Mrs. Happy Drunk to Mrs. Hold Your Hair Vomitus.

Feb. 13: Chinese New Year dinner at 4:30pm. You heard me. 4:30pm.

Feb. 14: The "real" Chinese New Year date, but it's Valentine's Day! Also known as VD Day. HAHAHAHA. ;) Not sure what we're doing yet... but probably just having people over to watch the NASCAR race.

Feb. 21: I just bought 6 tickets to the Auto Club 500 at the California Speedway. We're going to get there at the buttcrack of dawn to watch cars go around in a circle for 250 laps of 2 miles each. Awesome. What's really cute is that Ricklet told me he's excited that I'm coming! That really got me stoked! Whenever do husbands want their wives going with them to traditionally "just the boys" events? ;)

Feb. 26-28: Disneyland! This 3 day weekend trip includes two nights (at a hotel that I researched for days that included the creation of an awesome spreadsheet of hotel comparisons that boggled Ricklet's mind) with at 2-fer ticket! The trip itself is my Christmas gift from Ricklet, and Ricklet's Dland ticket is a Christmas gift from my sister! That's really a 2-fer! ;)

March 27: Bella turns TWO on the 29th and we're having a huge carnival themed birthday party!

April 16: TAYLOR SWIFT concert at Staples Center!

April 17: Cousin's wedding in Fullerton. Fullerton? I think so.. can't remember.

April 25: Our 1st year anniversary. I should start planning something now!

Okay, that's far enough ahead. Be back soon(er or later)....

System Overload! Abort Abort!

Egads, it's almost October.

I start school today - two classes, working full-time, 3 hour daily commute. Fun stuff ahead. What am I taking? Foundations of Info Sys and Intro to Web Design for Info Orgs.

It's going to be hard.

Although that combats my principle that nothing is ever difficult; some things just take extra time.

Just thought I'd pop on in here and say hello, dear diary. Or dear dairy. I could go for some sweet Yogurtland right about now.... ;)

Toodles.... I expect to be an auntie-in-law in about 7 months...

Almost August?!

Holy hardcore. I can't believe it's been so long since my last post. Naughty me. Well, so much has happened! I almost don't even know where to start. So here are bullet points, in no particular order:

1. Back in school. Currently in Summer session week 6, one class. Just signed up today for Fall, 2 classes. I will be taking 2 classes each quarter until I finish. My social life is over.

2. I have a new title! I didn't find out about it until I looked myself up in the directory and saw Project Specialist listed under my name. Huh. I wonder what that really means and what my legal job description is.

3. I'm getting used to my "responsibilities" here at work and learning lots of new stuff. All this info sys stuff like UNIX and working with strange filenames and whatnot. I keep telling myself that content is irrelevant. Right? Right. Sometimes. ;)

4. Rick is now walking with a cane, but his knee is still swollen and he can't start physical therapy yet. He's supposed to be ready to go back to work on August 2. Which is at the end of the week. But I don't see how that's going to happen!

5. The house seems to be permanently unpacked temporarily. ;) When will it get done? In the words of Farmgirl Susan: "Soon." We still have to get furniture before any additional unpacking can begin. And I like to do things once and only once so a workaround unpacking is not an option for me. I'd rather leave everything in the boxes until they're ready to come out. I've got a bunch of catch-22s in the living room, so really, there's nothing left to do right now.

6. The commute is not so hot this summer, and I had hoped traffic would be lighter because of the season. Contrary to my wishes, there seem to be more tourists than expected that struggle with our messed up freeway system and change lanes way too late, causing mucho slowdowns at every interchange.

7. Bella is walking now, and pretty well too! She loves to dance, give lots of kisses (to anyone and everyone), and says, "mama", "dada", and "ah!" for auntie (me!). I can't wait for her to really start talking. Or maybe I can.... ;)

8. We joined Netflix. How did we ever live without it?! I love instant movies on my laptop in bed.

9. Transformers 2 disappointed me.

10. Got our wedding pictures and need to go get them printed. Soon getting enlargements and albums. The wedding feels like forever ago, when I thought it was the busiest I would ever be in my whole entire life. Boy, was I wrong!

I guess that's it for now.
Toodles!

Countdown: less than ONE month..!

I'm afraid to actually know how many days are left. I think I'll just say less than a month. Then it's not so scary!

It's my day off today and I have actually a lot of errands to run. I was planning on picking up the candy order, but there's a huge accident on the freeway where I need to be. And then in the afternoon I'm taking my mom out to see the church, the hotel, and the reception site. So that will be fun. Oh, and if we can make it back in time for dinner with my sister, we're going to try to do that too.

But the real reason why I'm posting today is because it's time for another... no, not another to-do list, but another post similar to this one, a list of qualities about Ricklet that I love that really make us who we are. Sometimes we have it so good that we don't really realize that there are others (singles and couples) who don't have it as easy as we do, who have to work harder on their relationship, and sometimes who just aren't really compatible or have very different personalities that each partner must "put up with". Perhaps for some, that's as good as it gets, so the bickering and miscommunication is accepted, standard, and normal. For me, because I have Rick, that kind of situation is totally unacceptable.

I can see the question mark over your head. What in world is she talking about?? So let me explain. A few months ago someone from my past life found me on a social networking site and tried to add me to his friend list. I let the request sit for a long time before finding out that there can be different settings for different friends. So I set up a restricted list, accepted his friend request, and added him to this list. I guess the reason why I went through all the trouble is that 1) we're adults now, I shouldn't avoid my past in fear; 2) I was curious about how we'd reconnect; 3) I had others to add to this restricted list anyways; and 4) I didn't want him all up in my stuff on my page if I added him to my regular friend list. Privacy is important to me, and what comes in and goes out on my page isn't something I want the whole world to see let alone someone whom I've known and with whom I'd had a falling out. You never know who's going to turn out to be your next stalker.

So I accepted the request; I didn't say hello right away, I waited a few weeks. Finally, for some reason, of which I'm still unsure, I decided to post a hello. He wrote back and commented on my engagement photos. Those I'd purposefully left up while filtering more private life pictures of Bella and events we've participated in. I wrote back: thanks, we took new ones, and how are you? I'm fine, work is tiring, etc. He wrote back: saw your new pictures, they look nice, is that your baby, I listen to news radio. I wrote: sure, that's my baby, I don't like listening to news radio on my morning commute, I'd rather hear trivial gossip. And he responded: You haven't changed a bit, enjoying celebrity gossip. Your baby is cute, she sure is chubby.

I reacted. And I reacted badly. I haven't changed a bit since I was 12? Really. And he would know this from two short messages? How arrogantly assumptive. And because I choose not to listen to the news during my morning commute, I happily seek out and "enjoy" shallow and meaningless chitchat? Oh was I offended. I was mostly annoyed that he was nostalgically self-indulgent, patting himself on the back with the "you haven't changed a bit" feeling, like he intimately knew and still knows me. The truth is, he never knew me at all; he saw only what he wanted to see, and in my darkest hours, he had absolutely no idea what I was going through, and I couldn't handle a lollygagging puppet tagging along at my heels who was more annoying than harmful.

I know we were really young when we were together, but this behavior was exactly the reason why I broke it off with him back then. The unequal status between us irked the heck out of me; he fawned over me and in doing so, lessened himself. Within the idolotry was the perception that I was an angel who floated when I walked and had no thoughts of substance within my cute little brain. Of course, he didn't see this as offensive and there are worse perceptions of women than this; he probably treated all women he liked as little cuddly and sweet things, and is refreshed by their innocence and naivete, and therefore promotes it. I know that plenty of women would consider this guy a catch because he would adore her, put her up on a pedestal, and treat her like a princess, do anything to make and keep her happy. I, on the other hand, wanted to vomit on my keyboard. Some people just don't realize that when someone's put up on a pedestal and held high in esteem, the one who's up there is very lonely and maintaining that image by herself is tiresome. The fall from the top can be quite far, and if she falls, she will loathe herself and will want someone to speak the truth and sit on the ground with her for awhile. He will simply dust her off and try to help her get up on the pedestal again, assure her of his undying devotion and of her perfection, when she'll realize she doesn't want an admirer from afar. So she'll run off to join the rest of the village people, on solid ground, and she'll find a playmate with whom she can share her opinions and sit in the sandbox together for hours. He, abruptly abandoned, broken and purposeless, will curse her for all his best efforts to love her were not enough to keep her. She hopes that one day he eventually learns that one-sided adoration only leads to disappointment.

I've never really been a feminist, nor do I believe that we should set social roles that differentiate between men and women. I suppose I'm simply an equalist, an equalist with certain exceptions, of course. ;) And most importantly, this is about attitude. One may think, for example, that men should make more money than women, and that's fine as a personal opinion; but I have a few select words for the one who thinks that women CANNOT make as much or more money than men. The thought of limitation is what makes my blood boil. I hate being limited, told that I can or cannot do something. But most of the time, it usually has nothing to do with the issue/task at hand, but the intangible, indescribable perception of my abilities or capabilities.

So back to the story. After I virtually vomited on my keyboard, I shut down the computer and went to bed. I couldn't sleep and thought about all the nasty things I could write back. Of course, this was hardly mature, and if he was baiting me, I'd be giving him exaclty what he wanted: more chances to think he knows me and knows what I'd say. I could be honest with him and tell him that actually I've changed quite a bit; but that would be justifying myself to him, and I don't believe I owe him any explanation or insight to who I really am. Just these few messages over the internet sent me reeling, and I thought, Geez that relationship never would have worked out. Imagine all the fights we'd have and how many times I'd be offended by his condescending adoration. Then I thought about the traditional Christian wedding vows: the woman promises to obey the man, the man promises to love the woman as Jesus Christ loved the church. I've never had problems obeying Rick, but that's because he's never been a demanding tyrant or sacrificing martyr. He is willfully independent and has a strong sense of self, and doesn't idolize or fawn over me; it is easy to follow someone who knows what he's doing and is doing it for the right reasons (not doing it all for me). I turned over in bed and snuggled close to Rick. And all my feelings of love for him flooded me, and I held him tighter.

Rick has:
* never treated me like an unequal, or assumed I can't do something
* nver treated me like a princess (although he calls me HIS princess), meaning his position is never as my servant, and he'd never do everything I say just because I say so
* never rolled-eyes-edly said, "yes, dear" to anything and everything I want
* never coddled any of my bad behavior in efforts to keep me happy
* never gone down without a fight, especially when I'm wrong
* never been fake with me
* never participated in the group bashings of women or marriage that are so disrespectful that I loathe to even hear bits of
* always talked to me like an equal, never being above me or below me (certain touchy subjects are an exception)
* talked to me like we're both knights (in keeping with the royal metaphors) fighting together for our king (whatever goals we make) against our enemies (whatever obstacles we need to overcome)
* put me in my place too many times to count
* allowed me to take control of whatever I want, but will honestly tell me when I'm doing something "wrong" (heehe)
* happily gone shopping with me, not to please me, but because he wanted to
* has shown me and others his chivalry by opening doors, but not every time, and for men and women alike

Despite what this sounds like, we are not a platonic or same-sex couple!! The balance we achieve by being a team and respecting each other is what makes us super strong. Even if I tried, Rick would not take well to having his spirit and freedom roped in. I believe in personal accountability and choices, and have very little desire to control Rick and tell him what to do. And we do share similar he-said, she-said sort of behavioral quirks that are inherent in hetero relationships. But Rick is different in that he doesn't talk to me the way other guys who have "liked" me have. Very early on in our relationship, he didn't let me get away with something that would have been easy to pass through with other guys, and I thought, WHAT? NO ONE talks to me like that!! Not that he called me names or was abusive, but he drew his boundary lines. And in that instant, he earned my respect. And as time went on, I learned I could trust him with the deepest parts of my inner self, parts that even my mother or sister haven't seen. I feel like I truly have a partner, not a servant or a caretaker.

Coincidentally, as I was working on our table names for the reception, I stumbled across an old song from the musical that Rick and I worked on together, when we first met. My White Knight, from The Music Man, is sung by the stodgy librarian (ironic, isn't it?) who falls in love with a con artist. The lyrics, which are appropriate for this post, go like this:

"My white knight, not a Lancelot, nor an angel with wings
Just someone to love me, who is not ashamed of a few nice things.
My white knight, who knew what my heart would say if it only knew how.
Please, dear Venus, show me now.

All I want is a plain man
All I want is a modest man
A quiet man, a gentle man
A straightforward and honest man
To sit with me in a cottage somewhere in the state of Iowa.

And I would like him to be more interested in me than he is in himself.
And more interested in us than in me."

Meredith Willson was a genius.

They say after you get married, you have to start putting the other person first before yourself; I say that will just cause resentment, especially if the sacrifice is not appreciated. I say that you should have already started thinking about doing what's best for the both of you, and not to lose yourself in the process. I am, after all, whom Rick fell in love with in the first place; for him and for us, I can't afford to lose myself.

Congratulations (!) and Another List

First off, I'd like to say a big fat CON-FREAKING-GRATULATIONS to Annetterpee and Brian (aka Briannette) because they're engaged! A romantic proposal on Friday the 13th. What could be cuter?! At least it didn't end in any chainsaw massacres from any rejection. ;)

Now it's time for another checklist. Well, I suppose I should sum up how the past few weeks have been. From where I last left off:

Jan 24: We met with Andrea, the church wedding coordinator. She went over a list of rules and regulations, then said she'd be sending us the 6 page list via email. I'm still waiting.. and wondering if she's either forgotten to send it or it's just too soon to do so. I'm not sure. Two things I do remember from that meeting is that pre-recorded music is not allowed, and I have to wear a jacket or sew in straps on my strapless dress. I'm a bit confused by this because I've seen pictures of brides at the altar (of the same church) in their strapless dresses. I wonder if this rule is enforced.. and if not, should I even pay heed to it... and would I feel guilty for purposefully ignoring a rule?

Jan 25: Rick's surprise party. It was a hit! There were some minor confusions, anxious waiting... but when he walked through that door and we all shouted SURPRISE! it was all worth it. Thanks to Raul and Kathleen for opening up their home for us. Now we have all these cowboy and rockstar decorations we don't know what to do with. ;) We also have tons of Oreos left over from the favors. And I still have to find a frame for the signage board where people wished us happy birthdays.

Jan 30: Rick's birthday. I treated us to a couple's massage at Pho Siam, his first time. It was amazing and relaxing. Then we had a fatty dinner at The Boat, which has now reopened after a few years of being out of commission from being moved down the street.

Feb 7: The boys went in for their tux fittings. Rick went to pick up his junior groomsman, and the appointment was for 1pm. Guess what time he left? 9:45am. My man likes to be punctual. Early punctual. ;) Later in the afternoon I get a picture text of the jacket they all chose together. I freaked. They chose a shawl-style 1-button jacket. It reminded me of an awful 80s movie, and I told Rick as such. I didn't mean to be a hater, which totally caught me off guard, but I really just didn't like it. I couldn't see Rick wearing it on our wedding day. Of course, being the cool guy that he is, said we could go back and change the jacket just for him. I felt a bit guilty about this, since he doesn't get a say in what I'm wearing, why should I get a say in what he's wearing?

Feb 13: Cake appt at Rossmoor Pastries. It rained hard all day, but we went out for lunch, then headed over to Friar Tux so I could take a look at the jacket in person and decide together if we liked it. Ricklet put it on, I gave it 5 seconds to sink in... and said, OMG no. Please take it off. It's strange how a jacket can make a person want to vomit. This jacket just really rubbed me the wrong way, and I still can't say how other than I just. Didn't. Like. It. So we ended up choosing a traditional tux with notch lapel, 2 buttons, and no flaps on the pockets. When I told the salesman these details "we" were looking for, he smirked in a way that only a man who's dealt with detailed women before smirk. It wasn't a mean smirk, but a humored "this girl is one of THOSE kinds who knows what she wants" smirks. I wasn't offended, rather proud that I had the power to illicit such a knowing smile from a salesman. And from that point on, he told us detailed information about the different kinds of jackets that (some) guys just don't think to ask about.

We got to our cake appointment a bit early, but headed in. When we walked in, it looked like a regular bakery, with the giant glass-encased refrigerators, filled with sweet treats, and especially red and pink ones for Valentine's Day. The Wedding Cake Studio was off to the left, and we walked through the archway and saw lots of activity at desks where couples were having their consultations. It was nice to see that the place wasn't deserted. That means this place is good. We got seated right away and Maribel came to help us. She started filling out a form with all of our information, and pulled out a binder for us to look through of the different designs. It didn't take us too long to decide. We knew we wanted something simple without the "curtain" look in the frosting. Then we got to choose 4 different flavors in their lineup to taste. Rick chose them, and when Maribel brought the samples out, we dug in quietly but quickly. Mmmmm. We ended up going with something called the California Sunset, a lemon buttercream with raspberry filling. So tart and sweet compared the other flavors we'd requested to sample. When I spoke up about my Transformers toys that I wanted on the cake, Maribel just stared at me. I could see she was hootin' and hollerin' in the back of her head. But on the outside, she said, "ohhh... kayyyyy...." ;) Hey, it's OUR cake and I want toys on it! ;)

We were still too full for dinner, even though I'd planned on trying out a place called the Crab Pot. So we headed back in Friday rush hour traffic in the rain. Fun stuff. We made our way downtown and then headed through Chinatown, where we stopped to stretch our legs and buy those scoops and tongs for our candy buffet. We'd seen them before in the store but it seemed to early to buy them at the time, especially thinking about storing them somewhere with the other incoming wedding things. But now it was time.

Feb 14: Valentine's Day. I had planned to stay in and work on wedding stuff when my sister called me the night before and asked if I could go over to help babysit the Bihon girl so she and her hubby could go out for a Vday sushi lunch. I suggested even a massage too, and I wouldn't mind playing with the baby. :) Who would? She's such a good girl. I also needed to take a look at the shower favors and see what I'd need to do with them. And I need to pick up Jen's dress at the Alfred Angelo. To sum up, it was a pretty long day. I got home around 6:00pm and I don't even remember what Rick and I did. In-home dinner and movie? Most likely. :)

Feb. 15: Pajama Day. Since I was out all yesterday, I decided to stay home and really do crafting. I worked on the favors literally all day, stopping only to have a quick TV dinner lunch. Rick went to play golf and watch the Nascar race at his parents' house and didn't get home until after 6pm, and I was still on the floor doing stuff. Oh wait, no, by the time he got home, I was quickly but carefully putting labels on the candy buffet bags. And I was still in my pajamas from the morning. Rick was so not turned on. ;)

Coming up:
Feb. 21: Wedding shower. It's going to be about 70 people with a Hawaiian BBQ theme. We're having a whole lechon (roast pig), Margarita man, and the colors are aqua and brown. We're also going to try to go to Montana's afterward and kick up the dance floor, if we're not too tired. Also going to hand out invitations so we can save $30 on stamps. :)

Feb 22: Take gifts to condo. (shh)

Feb. 23: Final fitting at Alfred Angelo at 3pm. Which reminds me I should ask my sister and Carina if they want to come meet me there.

March 7-8: Mom wants to go to SD. No reason, she probably just wants to have a last trip with me before I'm a "woman" and she can give me a bit of a lecture (she calls it guidance) before the big day. She's changed this date a few times already so I haven't booked anything just yet. It might just change again.

March 14: Details appt, Reception Site, 6:00pm

March 28: Bella's Bday party
March 29: Bella's FIRST birthday!!!

April 4: Bachelor/bachelorette parties

April 11: Passover Seder, 4:30pm

April 15: Final Appointment, Reception Site, 7:00pm

April 23: Church Rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, 5pm

April 25: OMG!

There will probably be more things to do... but for now, that's all that's on my calendar. And it's good enough.

Things I still need to do:
* Make personal flowers (we're going the fake route no matter what y'all say or think)
* Get marriage license
* Assemble kids' favors
* Get started crafting menu cards, escort cards, signs, and programs
* Buy flower girl's dress
* Contact DJ
* Order candy for candy buffet

This was a long post. Now I gotta get to work!

Freakouts and The Best, revisited

So. We met with our reception site florist in Murrieta to select our flowers for the reception that were supposed to be part of the package. Unfortunately, the centerpieces that come with the package are only covered up to a $25 value. Huh. Do you know what you get for $25? A square tub with a handful of roses. For a table that seats ten. That wouldn't do at all. In addition, the owner of the store was out sick, but didn't call to reschedule the appointment so we dealt with one of their designers instead. He was nice, but didn't know how much things cost and didn't really help us with alternate flower types when we realized we couldn't afford what I wanted. What did I want?

Green cymbidium orchids
Green hydrangeas
Green and white peonies
Green Ranunculus
Green lisianthus
Purple calla lillies
Seeded eucalyptus
Hypericum berries

and apparently, in a pave style.

But what did I get for $79 per arrangement?
Bells of Ireland
two types of roses
Green spiders
Green button poms
White stock
Fuschia stock
Hanging amaranthus
Leatherleaf

in an airy style so more greenery will be used.

Hmm. Seems like a bunch of filler greens, don't it? Oh well.. it's not like we're going to be bringing them home and taking them to bed with us. Expensive taste with a small pocketbook. That's me.

So in my quest for what kind of flowers/arrangement we liked so we could show the florist, I conveniently kept my eye out for I wanted for our personal flowers. We can't have fillers for that. So I wondered what my cheaper alternatives would be, since a bridal bouquet with white roses, green cymbidium orchids, and "other green/white flowers" would come out to $230 (!). I refused to give up the orchids. I was hell bent on paying up to $20 per green cymbidium boutonniere for the groomsmen. I wanted The Best, as discussed in this previous post. Good Enough just wasn't going to make the cut this time. The boring all-roses bouquet that the rest of the world's brides want for its simplicity and classic elegance just wasn't unique enough for me (despite that I love roses and would have wanted an all-roses bouquet if you asked me a month ago, particularly because it was classic and elegant). My head swirled of tart green cymbidium orchids, expressive white phalaenopsis orchids, lush and romantic peonies and ranunculus, and hydrangeas as fillers. HYDRANGEAS AS FILLERS! (yes, I have a budget of $10,000 for flowers, sure.)

Rick, on the other hand, when presented with a minimum quote of $500 for our personal flowers (with mostly white roses when I wanted green cymbidiums), said:

"We can just get fake flowers. At least for the guys. I mean, we're just going to take off our jackets anyways. And they won't care if it's real or fake."

Then when I told him that our reception site coordinator no longer works there and there's a new hire who responded to my email, he went ballistic.

"OH SH*T!!! WHY?!!!?!?!?!?!!!!"

"I dunno. Maybe she got a better job or something. Why are you freaking out?"

"Because it's just our luck. Now this new girl's going to F everything up."

"?? What do you mean? We have everything written in the contract. Everything."

"Yeah, but she doesn't know that. She's going to get everything wrong since she's new and hasn't worked with us and has to learn all the rules over there."

"Ohhhkkayyyy.... well.. we still have two more meetings with them over there when we'll discuss details. They do weddings all the time and have a manual. And it's not like we're getting married this weekend and she's still learning. She'll be settled in when it's our turn, I'm sure. And maybe she came from another Wedgewood company, there are like 8 locations around here. Oh, and I'm sending out the second payment tomorrow."

"See?!!! And she doesn't even know how much we owe and when we owe it!!! OMG!!"

...

For a while there, I almost laughed out loud. In his freakout, I saw myself and the irrational, totally inconsolable behavior of which I have also been guilty. And then when he said:

"The reception is more important than the ceremony. It's where we're going to spend the rest of the evening with everyone!"

I thought, this is it. We need to re-prioritize. We need to take out our Engaged Encounter booklets and re-read WHY we are getting married in the first place. We need to look each other in the eyes and remember that we are supposed to become the Sacrament of Marriage and demonstrate qualities of a healthy and supportive couple. Making drama about a new coordinator and feeling like a hapless, pathetic little child who doesn't get the flowers she wants hardly demonstrates good, rational character.

So tonight, we will talk. And from this day forward, I will not get drawn into the hoopla about the wedding or demand that we spend more than we should. I will listen to the underlying message when he freaks out and says, "Let's just use fake flowers" and not call him cheap and other impolite names, but compromise on a practical and cost-effective solution. After all, isn't event planning for 170 people so far the ultimate test of our relationship and our communication?

Wall-e Redux

Wall-E is released to the general public today! WOOHOO! In honor of this happy occasion, I've decided to post the comment that was left in my original Wall-e character analysis posting. Many thanks goes to the Anonymous commenter, who was gratuitously much better at translating his/her emotions into words. (I post with assumed permission to re-post.)

" Anonymous said:
I completely agree with you about Wall E. I haven't been able to forget about this character, this movie. Everytime I think about him, or the last scene, I either cry or get choked up. I have thought about it a lot and I think it is powerful because of contrast.

The contrast to our experience today is stark: 700 years alone, a destroyed planet, a superficial world on the axiom devoid of connection and meaning, even robots. The hope for and final appearance of love for us, and for both of these characters is so powerful because of the bleakness and uphill challenges its is contrasted against.

Wall E is effective because there is so much fear, loss, pain, and sorrow within it. The joint appearance of new life and love is powerful because it offers a way out of darkness, away from our worst fears : that we will destroy and lose our home, our way of life, end up alone, without all that we love, and in doing so end up soul-less, media attached and fat, losing what makes us human: hope and love. For Wall E on Earth, however much he had grown used to and accepted despair/destruction of green earth, we feel sorry for him, almost guilty. The appearance of Eve and transformative love offers them and us a way out of a dystopian nightmare and the confirmation of our worst fears. Wall E is a look in the mirror. Even now we see ourselves disconnected from each other, like the people on the Axiom, and as Americans stuffed on prozac, we dream of such deep healing connections with people as Wall E experiences with Eve. We are as happy for love in this sci-fi setting as he is; with love and new life, an offer of redemption is given.

The appearance of a single plant as a source of hope is elegant and speaks to the human drive to survive and continue in the face of death and darkness. It is literally new life. Biologically, photothsynthesis and the appearance of life on earth is exceptional; a miracle and a beautiful anomale in the vast lonely universe of space. The deserted and destroyed setting of dystopian Earth in Wall E resembles primeval conditions on the planet before there was life: hostile, vast, and soulless. The plant represents the unlikely appearance of life as it has always appeared and continues to thrive in the bleakest of climates. Salvation and hope lie with a single plant, a reminder and proof of the miracle of life; when humans alter their perspective they see that their fate is intertwined with the fate of life on earth. Upon embracing this symbol of life, they are brought closer to one another and their planet, a manifestation of the health of humankind, is revitalized. As Wall E shows us in equal and perfect simplicity, so magically appears love despite obstacles. When Eve and Wall e embrace, after overcoming their obstacles as a pair, and after the Captain states “it’s good to be home” the camera pans over new green growth rengenerating all over the planet. The planet’s and humanity’s health and happiness is tied in this final minute to the cultivation of life and love.

Love in this film is like the symbol of the plant, a single ray of hope in a world without any. N0 matter how bleak, love lightens/brightens, eleviates pain. The moment of greatest fear is when it appears that Wall E has lost his soul, at this moment there is the sound of a hollow and determined wind blowing, the music stops. When he is resurrected we instantly hear a love song, coupled by the convergence of their newly formed robot community, and they hold each other close. When you have lost or have come close to losing the one you love, you know that the measure of love is how much pain you feel in its absence. Thus fully loving includes the painful awareness that you must hold on and fight to keep the thing you love because of all the sadness you will inevitably feel without it. Thats why I cry when I hear the love song in the last scene and see them put their heads against the others. Love is what motivated them to act unselfishly, love is what saved them from a bleak world, Love that, however beautiful and meaningful, cannot last and so is clung to with every breath. The comforting power of love is contrast against the devastation, carelessness, and towering tasks behind and in front of them, which despite the circumstances provides hope, healing, joy, and relief from pain.

I cling to this movie because it offers hope, even though sadly like love, Wall E is fleeting. When contemplating this movie I am emotionally close to all that matters most to me, to most people: love, mortality, a planet that needs healing, a sense of responsibility, and a profound appreciation for those things in life that reminds us of love's power, things that add beauty and hope(like films such as Wall e) . I want to stay in the place that this movie brings me. The reflection and empathy inspired by Wall E as well as a vision of horrible consequences of our selfishness as a culture, remind us how valuable the things we love are; the people, the places, the moments, our home Earth, the time we have and the role we play in making a difference (in one person's life: Wall E for Eve) and for the future of mankind (Wall E's many sacrifices). The choices and meaning of life are made clear and stark in Wall E. Personally, after watching this movie, I held the ones I loved a little bit tighter and joined the Nature Conservancy (no lie.) Now that is a testament to the power of the arts and living proof of why Pixar is so damned good at what they do.
-October 2, 2008 5:14 PM"

Now go out and buy/rent the movie! :)

My husband is not...

I'm addicted to Facebook. Well, not really addicted just yet. I just signed up last week and before I knew it, I had 40 friends. That's more than my MySpace page that took months and months of friend-finding to accumulate just 30 friends! As I drove home this evening, I thought about all the people I'd lost touch with and their new boyfriends/girlfriends/wives/husbands and their $$-paying jobs and brand-new, single family homes. And had teeny tiny bouts of jealousy. Well, not so much jealousy as extreme curiosity that borderlines obsessiveness. The last time I had a bout of jealousy and whined about it, Jen looked me in the eyes and asked, "Why are you marrying Rick?" It caught me off guard, and she told me to remind myself why I was getting married at all. 'Cause I could play the comparison game until the cows come home, but all it did was make me feel dissatisfied with my life. Is the grass really greener on the other side?

On my way home, I thought about all the characteristics that could describe any man of any hetero couple. The ideal man who would be the trophy husband, fabulous arm candy to any woman who would be so lucky as to hook him. The epitome of maleness and the cliched definition of masculinity. This is obviously a social issue, so there's no right or wrong, but for the sake of my little comparison game, let's take each characteristic to the extreme stereotype. And, apologies for the likeness to those annoying email forwards. (And let's just call him my husband because I kind of really don't like the word "fiance".)

What My Husband is Not

My husband is not tall, dark and handsome; he has a baby face and big, brown puppy-dog eyes, and I never have to look up at him and feel inferior.

My husband is not the curly blonde, surfer-boy cutie; he has luscious, thick black hair, speaks intelligibly, and has a farmer's tan.

My husband is not poetic or romantic, hardly ever buys me flowers, and doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve; he holds my hand while we sleep and playfully pokes me in the ribs as I put on mascara, which shows me how much he cares.

My husband is not a muscular jock; his brain cells are intact, and he is drug-free.

My husband is not a drunk deadbeat; he respects himself and others, works hard, and uses alcohol socially.

My husband is not a successful lawyer, stock broker, or collections agent; he bends over backwards for his customers and then passively mocks them as soon as the door hits them on their way out.

My husband is not a rich mama's boy; he is a poor mama's boy, but knows that just because he's poor doesn't mean he has to act like it. And he honors both his mother and his father.

My husband is not a 4-year-college grad who participated in floor-cest and got drunk every weekend; he worked before high school, during high school, after high school, and learned the value of a dollar.

My husband is not an athlete; he is, in fact, flat-footed, and uses foot spray quite often to fight athlete's foot.

My husband does not yell, slam the door on his way out, or leave me in the middle of an argument; he is patient and tells me if he needs some time to organize his thoughts.

My husband is not a nerdy intellectual, does not know what Google Scholar is, and is not an expert on the computer; he lets me do the research, but he has endless vetoes and is in charge of the final decision.

My husband does not have to assert his Y-chromosome by abusing me physically or verbally; he is happy, secure, and unthreatened to step back and let me take control when I want.

My husband is not driven or ambitious; he will never be on-call, stay late at the office, or have insomnia from work stress.

My husband is not the exuberant, center-of-attention, life-of-the-party guy; he is a thoughtful host and can attentively sit through eight hours of marriage preparation class with 120 other people.

My husband is not a brand or label snob; he believes that you get what you pay for, so when his Kmart golf club breaks into two pieces, he does not throw a fit that everything that is crap is made in China.

My husband is not a renowned musician, tournament golfer, or professional stock car racer; he participates in these supplemental hobbies which contribute to his comprehensive knowledge, and they do not rule his life.

My husband is not great at cleaning or organizing; he makes a mean spaghetti and the best kind of homecooked meals (with love).

My husband did not buy me the extravagant 1-carat princess-cut diamond engagement ring that I demanded like a petulant child; he bought me an appropriate, demure oval tanzanite. On sale.

My husband is not (and does not do) any of these things, and that is why I love him. And that is why I'm marrying him.

My Wall-E Character Analysis

So I made a mistake. I've been strangely obsessed with Wall-E and decided to do some research on his character to hopefully find someone else's analysis that could eloquently explain my infatuation. Instead, I found rants about the gender-fication of the robots, the gender-specific constructs of the characters, racism, and generally why all Disney films just suck.

*sigh*

What is with all the haters out there? Why can't we all just enjoy a movie, analyze it in a way where helplessness and futility are not the motivations for the analysis, and not take every issue to the extreme?

Way to go, team.

Now, moving forward with the intent to put into words my super-strong emotional tie with this funny little yellow robotic character. He doesn't talk except say his name and Eve's, so one must understand him through body language, noises, and his expressions. When there is no superficial yapping, communication is deeper through indirect speaking. One quickly empathizes and feels compassion when words don't get in the way; and the bond between Wall-e and the audience is almost immediate (if the audience is paying enough attention and not getting distracted by trivial social issues).

I did not genderize Wall-e or Eve. I suppose it was subconsciously a given that Eve was "the girl" and Wall-e was "the boy," but I didn't register them as a particular sex, as did these other bloggers/ranters. Sure, it was a love story, but I didn't feel it was a sexified, hetero love story. I didn't see Wall-e and Eve shacking up and having hybrid robot babies. That's not what their relationship conveyed. It was so much more... innocent. And wonderful. This love could be comparable to unending parental love, sibling love, love of a pet, love of life. It could also be nostalgic of one's first crush in elementary school. It's that emotion of something much deeper and stronger than a friendship; it's even, dare I be cliche, a tie that binds.

We see 30 minutes of Wall-e by himself and his little cockroachy friend. Wall-e talks to himself, plays by himself, and collects things that he thinks are valuable. We start to connect with him. We like him. His innocence is refreshing. We hope nothing bad happens to him as he's all alone out there, and these violent dust storms blow through. We watch him roll up and down these massive garbage skyscrapers as the view opens up and we see a whole city of cubed trash that is his lifelong work. I quickly forget that he's not a mortal human - and it's ok if he falls down or gets thrown into outer space where there is no air. We see him watch "Hello, Dolly" with great interest. And witness his longing to understand the holding of hands, as he clasps his own metal hands together, mimicking the motion. To touch. And dance. We realize he's alone. Not necessarily lonely, but alone. He seems happy enough with his bug friend, his daily trash compacting and collecting of artifacts. He's not needy.


Wall-e first sees Eve and this uber-romantic music starts playing, "At Last". It's cute. The audience giggles. You can almost see his non-existent heart start pounding faster and faster. He's really intrigued by her, wants to be her friend, and tentatively begins to build a relationship with her by showing her his collection of things and his home. He wants to hold hands with her. It's possibly love at first sight. But it could also be something so simple as friendship. Someone else whom he can bond with. Someone (or something) like him. It's reminiscent of the very first best friend a child has and holds hands with as they run off to the playground together. It's childhood.

Throughout the movie he demonstrates unconditional love. Unconditional friendship and loyalty. He tries fervently to wake Eve up when she's in "sleeping" mode after she takes the plant. He covers her from the rain, takes care of her. And when the mothership comes to take her back, he panics and jumps on board. He doesn't know where he's going, he's leaving the safety of his home and all that he's known and done in the last 700 years. All because of Eve, who's in a comatose state, but Wall-e can't just let her go. He gets in trouble, not understanding her programming or her mission, and just wants to be by her side. To spend time with her, and hold her hand. Some bloggers say he's the "stereotypic, idiotic male", but I disagree wholly. He's not stupid, he's 700 years old in analog form in a futuristic, digital world. Plus, he's been alone for so long. How could he possibly understand what's going on?

After Eve searches the planet, frustrated, she has more time to finally address Wall-e, and even tolerates his presence and tag-along behavior. It's not because she feels sorry for this loser who's stalking her. We (and Eve) can't condemn him for his naive character. And after aboard the Axiom, she time and again comes to his rescue. Why? We don't let children fall off slides if we can run over to catch them, now do we? Eve realizes (as she had been asleep for a long time) that Wall-e followed her to help her. Although she is a programmed robot, she too, is a learning robot, and after seeing footage of Wall-e that her "camera" captured during her comatose state, she suddenly realizes all that Wall-e has done for her.


Other bloggers like that Disney (finally) portrayed a strong female hero through Eve, instead of being a supporting character. She does end up saving the day, but I would never title this movie as "Eve". It's really not about the actions and tangible deliverables which we can define on paper - this movie centers around Wall-e and his emotions. And his humanity. The other sub-plots and distractions simply provide opportunities for Wall-e to demonstrate his character to the viewer.

The last evidence of Wall-e's loyalty is shown as he sacrifices his life for Eve's mission. He knew the plant was important to Eve and she said it needed to get back to Earth, to save all the humans. He supported her and therefore supported her cause. It is unclear as to if he ever understands why the plant is so important to the people or to Eve, but it doesn't matter; he has faith and compassion. The ultimate sacrifice of himself because he loved her. One could even go so far as to draw parallels to Jesus Christ and His ultimate sacrifice to save People, all for the love of a Father. This love is not romantic love, obviously. And I confess my heart shattered during those few minutes when he lost himself and was reverted into a programmed robot form, continuing his work, ignoring Eve as she tried to wake him from this stupor. Then he "reboot"ed and his soul was "resurrected".

I identified with Wall-e more than Eve, despite all discussion that he is male (or a gay male). He tugged at my heartstrings the whole way through, bringing out emotions associated with my first crush, a motherly possessiveness, a deep friendship, and an adoration of silly cuteness that I see in Rick. I hold a supreme fondness for Wall-e. Perhaps I'm simply a romantic at heart. Loyalty, trust, faith, compassion, and unconditional love. What girl doesn't want that?

For anyone who's seen this movie and has felt nothing more than ambivalence, you are dead inside. You need 100ccs of love and affection, stat. Have no fear, however, it's time for a group hug. And another screening of this feel-good movie.

Position and Positioning

My colleagues and I often discuss the nature of the people who work in our building. We came to a consensus that about 80% of them are super-shy, busy-in-their-heads, academia types who cross that borderline into blatantly rude and unfriendly behavior. Also, a handful of them are elitist, and therefore those who don't blip on their radar don't get a greeting in the hallway.

Then we added to the discussion our facility man who picks up the trash at our desks. While he is always very friendly to me (they say it's because I'm a girl), it seems one of my male coworkers has odd feelings about him and is either creeped out or simply uncomfortable in his presence. I asked if it was creepy like he was hitting on him; he said no. I pondered if it was a racial issue. He says this man is unfriendly and has an air of arrogance about him. I wondered if it was a defense mechanism for feeling inferior; I mean, picking up someone else's trash every day is a little humbling, no? Especially if you feel like it's always the white man's trash - and according to our other discussion about the people in our building, one must assume that the head-down ingrates never say hello to the man or thank him for his services. Perhaps he's always been a trash man and has had many people of "station" not acknowledge his presence or even worse, treat him badly. I wondered if he acted like this with all men. Then one day as I passed him in the hallway, he was chatting with a male security guard, commiserating about one thing or another. They both greeted me and I them, and so I had more confirmation: It's not simply a male or racial thing, it is more of a social status thing. Security guards are blue-collars just like himself. And then this popped into my head: Position and positioning are socially conditioning.

It's from a song in the movie-musical The Slipper and the Rose with Richard Chamberlain. It's a Cinderella story. I loved this movie when I was a kid and sang all the songs.

Position and Positioning [click for Youtube video]
(Written by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman)

If my father were a chancellor,
How easy it would be -
The lovely Lady Caroline
Would be a proper wife, you see.
But my father was a servant
And my mother same as he.
So the lady of my choosing
Is a world away from me.
That's how it is and how it was,
And how it always shall be

Position and positioning
Are socially conditioning
How you're born, how you're bred,
Predetermine who you wed,
Which means there's nothing changeable;
Nothing's rearrangable,
Position and positioning are everything in life.

Farmer's daughters marry cowherds,
That's acceptable and right.
But absurd and quite unheard of
Is a milkmaid and a knight!

Position and positioning
Are socially conditioning,
People high, people low,
Keep the state of status quo,
Which means there's nothing changeable;
Nothing's rearrangable,
Position and positioning are everything in life.

When a lad first joins the army,
This is what he learns for starters:
Never court your colonel's daughter
Or he'll have your guts for garters!
That's how it is and how it was,
And how it always shall be.

For position and positioning
Are socially conditioning,
How you dress and hold your head
Predetermine who you wed,
Which means there's nothing changeable;
Nothing's rearrangable,
Position and positioning are everything in life.

All the servants in a castle -
They reflect the world outside.
They have rank and they have station
And adhere to them with pride.
All the staff that work below stairs
May have dreams to work above,
But they're locked in their positions by Tradition's iron glove.

That's how it is?
And how it was,
And how it always shall be.

We know our place and happily we bow and scrape and bend our knee,
But woe betide the woe begone,
Who try to join our echelon,
For privelege is not, you see,
Confined to just the royalty.
Behind these doors, I might suggest, I'm similarly blessed.

Yes, position and positioning
Are socially conditioning,
Though you work your life away,
Where you start is where you stay.
Which means there's nothing changeable;
Nothing's rearrangable,
Position and positioning are stuck with you for life!

Now this is not to say I condone this behavior or way of thought because it's just the way it is. Quite the contrary. But I acknowledge that the discord exists in reality despite the happy ending to this silly movie. I also believe that not only is it difficult to break away from one's station because of societal obstacles, often times one doesn't know HOW to break away since it is all one knows. Social conditioning. By the time you're old enough to think you want something better, all previous life experiences point towards the path of keeping the status quo. It can be so difficult that one resigns to the fact that this is just the way things are and things can't change. And unfortunately and ironically, the ones who are of higher position already (by birth or nature) are the ones who don't believe in settling.

The Best is the Enemy of the Good

So today as I'm playing hooky (well, a mental health day really saves my colleagues from being unfortunate witnesses of my emotional combustion and its outward effects) I decided to take it easy and not do much. Too bad my brain is still working on overdrive. I happened to stumble upon this post in this blog, A Practical Wedding, which addressed the age-old question: "What is it about human nature that forces us to strive for the best?"

As I'm well on my way to becoming an expert researcher as well as learning new things on the path towards my information science degree, I find myself having a hard time with what we call Satisficing, that is, stopping your research when you find answers that are adequate. People probably practice satisficing on a daily basis - looking for a definition of a word: check ONE dictionary, click on the FIRST link of your Google hit, etc. The answer there is adequate. There will be variant descriptions from all types of dictionaries and sources, but they'll all mean the same. So you stop looking. Satisfied.

When applied to other things that require more research, more importance, more authoritative warrant (OMG I'm not at work, am I?) this is when satisficing becomes difficult. When do you stop? How "good" is "good enough" when compared to the "best"?

According to the post mentioned above, the best is the enemy of the good (translated Voltaire quote). Things that we find good are often still not good enough as we search for the best. Human nature. But WHY? And once we happen upon the best, how do we know it, since we are always looking for something better than what we've got? The good get shafted and everyone loses.

I'm glad I found this post. And perhaps I'm making your brain crazy with too much thinking. I know mine is kicking me for doing this on a hooky day. But I'm glad I found this post because it alleviates the pressure I have on myself to find the Best flowers, the Best photographer, the Best dress, the Best.... To me, the Best means the cheapest for the greatest quality AND quantity (yeah, in an ideal world, huh?!). For example, a lone element does not determine the Best: roses, orchids, delphinium, or whatever we choose to match our colors, but they better be damn affordable for ALL the flowers we need or else they aren't the Best. Then it becomes a vicious cycle: can another florist do it cheaper? Are there alternative flowers that LOOK like what we want? What if we use less blooms and add more filler? What if we change the flowers altogether because these aren't the Best?

This doesn't only apply to objects and money, however. The tendency to over-think, over-research, over-analyze things are all part of the insatiable desire to be better, to be perfect. It was difficult for me to take a sick day today because we have visitors at work and I was planning on attending a couple of their presentations this afternoon. And I'm not unwell, at least on the outside. But as I lolled around in bed dreading waking up, getting ready, going through the motions, being hormonally imbalanced, analyzing life's too many social issues, I decided to give myself a break. I decided to break my perfect attendance record. I decided to play hooky, if you can call it that, as I'm actually and obviously unwell in the head. I decided to spend some QT with my Sammie, and she sits in my lap as I type. I decided to not be around people today.

Is that OK? Is that Good? Or is that the Best thing to do?

While you ponder that, take a look at photographer Miguel Mayo's website. We are having our free engagement session done with him in a couple of weekends. He isn't the Best of everyone I've found, but he's GOOD. Good enough? I'm beginning to think so. (The e-session is free and his full-coverage photography packages start at $1,500, a steal by comparison.) He might actually end up being the Best.. if Best is what we want...?

Perhaps redefining "good" and "best" is what I should do next... after all, I've always believed that "all adjectives are relative."

Goodbye, Ah-Gong

It's been a rough re-entry from our weekend mini-vacation from San Diego. We had a wonderful time exploring the city and having good meals. I ate a whole dungeness crab by myself for lunch (well, Rick helped with 3 legs or so).

First off, let me just say that last night, we got news that my paternal grandfather had passed away on Saturday. He had been quite ill. About a year ago, he had three surgeries in two weeks, which included having a pacemaker put in. After many months in the hospital, he was moved to a nursing home. A few months after that, he was moved back home permanently with a live-in nurse to help out. I visited him at Christmas time and he seemed to be much better than the previous visits, albeit thinner and got tired quicker.

The news came as a bit of a shock, even though he had been very ill. Although, frankly (and with guilt), I had not thought of him for many months. And perhaps that is why the following story is told with such uncertainty.

On Saturday afternoon, Rick and I took a walk along the beach and visited the pier on Shelter Island. There was a small bait and tackle office as well as an "education" room where shells and marine life were displayed. There were a few cases of dried butterflies and insects; they were mostly fantastically colored species that simultaneously caused you to cringe from the gross factor as well as enticed you to come closer for a better look. It was fascinating and horrifying. We walked back to the hotel, and while crossing the parking lot, something dark caught my eye, and I cast my eyes downward. I saw this giant, black, beetle-roach-looking-thing monching on some crap on the ground. "Ewww!!" I cried. And stifled the reflex to stomp on it. Live, and let live, right?

Back in the room, just minutes later, I pulled the bedspread down off the bed to get ready for a nap. I looked over at Rick, who had stopped what he was doing to point at the side of the bed, and said, "LOOK..."! I walked over, looked, and screamed like a bloody monster. Sitting there quietly on the inner part of the bedspread was the same, giant beetle-roach-looking thing that we had just seen outside. It was very big, very black, and very shiny. I panicked and ran around in circles before running to the sink area and getting the hotel's ice bucket. On my way, I shouted over my shoulder to Rick, "Call downstairs!"

Now, up until then, the hotel staff had been more than the usual nice, at least for us. They had greeted us promptly at the front desk, and housekeeping had directed us to the right wing as soon as they saw us looking around the hallway for our room. When Rick called the front desk to alert them to our situation, the man there had said, "What would you like us to do?" and because we've never had to deal with a bug infestation ever in our hotel rooms, Rick didn't know what to say. Umm, come get it?! The man asked if we'd like our sheets changed and we said yes.

We caught the beetle without much incident although when it fell off the covers, I screamed again before Rick somehow managed to corral it into the ice bucket. The room phone rang and it was the front desk man, asking if we'd caught or killed the bug, and that his manager would like to see it, so if we would please hand it to the staff that would be changing our sheets. I think this guy was new or just not particularly experienced as the other staff employees we'd dealt with.

Our sheets were changed by the on-call housekeeping staff. They were friendly, yet because they were simply the ones on-call and not the regular 12pm - 4pm crew that changes the sheets daily, they didn't seem to know what to do. But also because we were just standing there, watching them. Well anyways, I decided that instead of giving our evidence to them that we would take the critter ourselves to the front desk.

As we walked down the stairs with Rick clutching the ice bucket tightly in his hands, I saw that the manager was at the front desk. I somehow easily identified him as the manager because of the tell-tale glasses, moustache, and business clothing instead of the other staff's uniforms. We walked up to the counter, and Rick joked, "It's a fine specimen." Rick and I weren't angry or really taking this whole thing seriously, we were just shocked and creeped out, but we didn't make a scene or throw a fit. We just wanted to let them know and have the situation handled, and we didn't have any demands or motivation to make other guests worry. The manager, on the other hand, was quite inhumorous, which of course, was as he should be. He took the ice bucket, peered in, and said, "OH MY GOD." And apologized profusely and said that his housekeeping staff is usually very thorough. He looked up our room info and comp-ed our night. We thanked him and went back to our room, where we sat quietly and alert for the rest of the evening until dinner time.

The following morning, Sunday, after a wonderful complimentary breakfast buffet downstairs, we went back to our room to pack up to check-out by noon. It was already at least 80 degrees and our room was warming up from the sun streaming through the sliding doors off the balcony. We packed while we watched TV. At 10:30am, while we were both sitting on the bed with stuff laid out but eyes glued to the tv, we both saw something move and together whipped our eyes over to the movement. This time, along the carpet near the sliding door, yet another beetle was taking a stroll across the sunlight.

Rick and I looked at each other and said, "You've got to be kidding me." This time, without any screaming or any shock, I grabbed a small glass cup and Rick scooped it up easily. We sighed and just looked at each other. Should we call downstairs again? Should we let it go? We decided that we might as well take it down and tell them that it had happened again.

The Sunday morning front desk staff consisted of two women who shrieked when they saw the contents of our tissue-covered glass cup. They covered their mouths and opened their eyes wide, and one of them said, "Oh my gosh, I can't look at it, it's so disgusting," and took the cup to the back. She also mentioned that being a resident of San Diego who lives just a few blocks away, she's never seen any bug like this before. When Rick mentioned that this was our second bug, they said, "In the same room? We heard about the one yesterday." Which actually really impressed me, because that just shows how in-tune the management is with their staff. They looked up our room and said that the night manager had indeed comp-ed our room for last night, and we told them we would be checking out in an hour. We left them with good humor, so good and understanding that I started to wonder if they'd think we planted the beetle ourselves just to get a free night.

I should probably describe this beetle to give you a better picture of what we were dealing with. I didn't take any pictures, unfortunately, so I'm going on what I remember of this bug. I spent the morning looking in beetle databases to figure out what the heck we saw. I think all three were the same species, although I can't say for sure.

I narrowed it down to two types, but don't know the exact species. The Carabidae Calasoma genus of Ground Beetles or the Eliode Teenebrionida Darkling Beetle. Here are pictures of each (and yes, it's enough to make you vomit, unless you're totally into insects).







Our beetle was about 1.25 inches in length. Yep, one fat sucker. And when you see this big black thing on super white bed sheets, it really elicits screams of terror.

So last night, when I got the news about the passing of my grandfather, I began to think. After 10 minutes of the usual thoughts and emotions when you hear about a death, a distant memory popped into my head. Years ago, when my mother lost a long-time friend to cancer, before she'd gotten the news of his death, she'd been "harrassed" by a fly. It was in her home, in her car, at her parents' house. I'll have to get the details from her about the fly, but I distinctly remember her telling us that she believed the fly was her friend, coming by to tell her goodbye. And after the fly finally went away, she heard that her friend had died.

I don't know whether or not this beetle was my grandfather coming by to say goodbye. Or if he wanted something of me, or wanted to tell me something, or if he was approving or disapproving of anything. I mean, do spirits come to you in disgusting insect forms? Does it mean anything if the visitor is a cute ladybug, a buzzing wasp, or a beetle?

Analyzing the facts, I do choose to believe that the beetle was my grandfather. The situation is just too bizarre to be thought out rationally. We tore that room apart, looking for holes and crevices that perhaps the beetle had come out from. Nothing. The fact that no one else in the hotel complained about a beetle sighting in their room. The fact that no staff member had ever seen this type of insect in their area before. The fact that our room was on the second floor, away from any shrubs or gardens, and that if this beetle was a Ground Beetle that has no wings and is nocturnal, that we shouldn't have seen it on the second floor walking about and active during the daytime. The fact that we had seen the beetle three times. Possibly even in the cases on the pier, too, but I didn't pay that much attention to the details. Common bugs all look the same if you're not a bug-ologist or even remotely interested in these creatures.

So today, I'm still wondering what it is I'm supposed to do. I don't know if the beetle species itself is important. I don't know if it was just a bug big enough for us to see and not smoosh. I don't know how I'm supposed to interpret any of this information. I don't know if the appearance of the beetle is a good sign or a bad sign. But I do know that I want to say goodbye to my grandfather, whom I call Ah-Gong. And if he can forgive me for my indiscretions, I would be very humble. I apologize for not visiting more often during his older years, and have no excuses. Goodbye, Ah-Gong.

Truly Grateful

Sometimes it takes a miracle for me to realize how blessed I am. And that miracle this time was the birth of my baby niece, Isabella Grace. I don't mean miracle in that she-was-never-supposed-to-live sort of way, I mean a simple, ordinary miracle of life itself.

I'll recount the events as they unfolded yesterday:

5:50am - I get a call from my brother-in-law. They're back in the hospital (after being there the morning prior, they were sent home until my sister was "ready" to go back). I pseudo jump up and ask if she's in full labor and he says no, it's still going to be a long while. I slump back down into the bed and think about getting up.

7:00am - I finally get out of bed and gather up my gear for the day. Rick and I have an initial appointment with the priest of the church we'd like to have our wedding at at 11:00am. I don't think we'll make it since we're planning on being in the hospital all day, but just in case, I put on makeup and a nicer pair of jeans. I'm selfishly disappointed, but shake it off and say that we can meet with the priest another day and if the sites get booked, then it wasn't meant to be.

9:00am - We arrive at the hospital and my sister's stomach is enormous. She must have grown another few inches the last two weeks! She's exhausted, having not slept more than an hour in the past 48 hours due to contractions and pain. She'd just gotten her epidural when we arrived, so was slightly subdued and apparently much calmer than the previous hours. ;) But she's lost a couple centimeters in terms of "readiness".

9:20am - My sister reminds us to go feed her bird and asks that we bring her pillow back. The hospital pillows are flat and she wants her own. She tells us that it's still going to be a long while and tells us to keep our appointment with the priest. We leave to go feed her bird, get her pillow, and while we're there notice that the a/c vent in the baby's room has partially fallen down. I'm not sure if this was intentional for any reason (you'd have to know my brother-in-law) so I call and he has no idea what we're talking about. At the slightest touch, the vent completely comes out of the ceiling and the paint/drywall falls all over the crib. AACK! We tear up the house looking for tape or nails or screws. We find pushpins in the office and a plastic bag, and secure that sucker over the vent.

10:15am - We head out to the church and get there 15 minutes early. A quinceanera celebration just let out and the girl was so cute in her white ballgown. These things always seem like someone really young is getting married. Although the "bridesmaids" or attendants or whatever really could have used more appropriate hem lengths and heel heights, in MY opinion. You're in a church!

11:00 - We sit down with Father Dennis and have a chat. A lot of what went on in that office is very personal so I won't mention any details. I think I've been missing the church a lot and let down my walls as soon as I stepped into his office. It was as if I'd been waiting interminable years for a safe haven to share my thoughts and feelings. Let's just say that we "passed" with flying colors and the priest happily agreed to marry us. Unfortunately, the afternoon wedding times were all taken up, not just for OUR proposed date, but for ALL Saturdays before and after ours! ALL of them were already booked! I couldn't believe it. So we ended up choosing a noon ceremony time.

11:30 - Back in the car, I feel very loved and slightly embarrassed. We call the reception site to see if we could go down and finally put our deposit down since we got our date at the church, and we were closer by. I make a point to say, "We want to put our DEPOSIT down TODAY." The director says her next available appointment is 4:00. I *sigh* but agree, thinking I'd be back in the hospital and then have to drive back out there. I figure I can cancel later if necessary.

11:35 - In our haste to get to the church on time (haha) I left my sister's pillow on the couch. So we head back to her house instead of the hospital. The director at the reception site calls and says she's had a cancellation and she can see us at 3:00. I agree without thinking about it, but then wonder if the later time would be better if my sister has her baby soon.

12:00 - We get the pillow, grab a bite to eat, and head back to the hospital.

12:15 - My sister is really uncomfortable now, and when the nurse comes to check her we leave the room and wait to be let back in. There are no other visitors around, and many of the rooms are empty. While loitering in the hallway for just 30 seconds with Rick and my brother-in-law, another nurse comes by and asks us if she can help us. I gesture to the closed door and just mumble something about waiting. And she says shortly, "You need to wait in the waiting room" and walks away. And I roll my eyes, but think, My sister is allowed 5 people in the room with her and we've just stepped outside because she's getting her hoo-ha checked, and then we'll go back in and WAIT. OK?!" My brother-in-law laughs, and says we might as well wait in the waiting room then. So we head over. Moments later, my brother-in-law chases us down and says that his wife has asked us to go, and that he'll call me when the baby's here. He acts like he feels bad about asking us to leave, so I fake pout, the boys laugh, and Rick and I head out.

1:00 - We sit in the car and wonder what to do for two hours until our appointment. We're tired too from all the driving. I rack my brain and think about what's along the way. We've already driven more than 100 miles. [For those of you LA-ites, we live in Burbank, the hospital is in Baldwin Park, my sister's house is in Glendora, the church is in Diamond Bar, and the reception site is in Corona. Yep. Practically three different counties, and we're doing this diagonal zigzag driving pattern.] We decide to go to the Brea mall.

1:30 - We arrive at the mall and just take a stroll. There are lots of people at the mall and lots of sales. The only thing we buy is a fishing video game. :)

2:15 - We head out to the reception site and get there 15 minutes early. We poke our heads in the office to see if she's with other clients, but the ladies in there are just at their computers. So we settle in, discuss our package, Rick makes some big decisions for us, I write the giant check that is our deposit, and she takes out this giant box. Inside the box is a binder. Inside the binder are tabbed sections of everything I want or need to know about everything that comes in our package. I'm so ecstatic because I'd been asking random, detailed questions over email and getting half and unclear answers.

3:30 - While going over the details in the binder, my phone rings. Loudly. I apologize, but answer the phone - it's my brother-in-law. I say, HELLO? And he says, "When can you come back here?" in a new-father tone that only a new father has. And I laugh and share the excitement with Rick and the girls in the office.

3:40 - We rush out of there and head back to the hospital. We decide to take a different, straighter way back to the hospital, which also passes by the church. It's a great route and there are new shopping complexes on the highway - perfect for our guests to waste time between our events.

4:15 - Isabella Grace is so pretty! She's 6 lbs. 13 ounces, 21 inches of pure delight. 10 fingers, 10 toes. LOTS of hair!! I get to hold her first and she opens her eyes and looks at me and yawns. It's precious. She has the softest skin and is perfect. My mom arrives and oohs and aahs over her first granddaughter and we all take pictures. We debate about whose nose she has.

The next few hours were a blur. We left the hospital because my sister needed to breastfeed and she was exhausted and starting to get snappy. Rick and I headed back (again) to her house, packed up her bird and his accessories, stopped in San Marino for Italian fast-food to-go and a quick chat with friends, and finally got home to eat and have the bird settled in.

I climbed in the shower at 8:00pm and cried. Bawled like a baby. But for the first time in my life, this sudden outburst was not sad tears, but tears that were so happy and so grateful that my cup literally runneth over. You ever see those televised chuch gospel things where they show some lady singing with her hands raised in the air, and tears are streaming down her face as she shouts the hymn? And you wonder, what in the heck is going on? Why is she sad??? Now I get it. It's not sadness, it's an emotion so profound and so overwhelming that the only way to really soak it all in is to let it all out.

The way the whole day unfolded was a miracle, like God had planned this whole day filled with excitement and anticipation. After weeks of frustration and waiting for appointments with the church and site, and anxiety for the baby, never did I imagine that we would get both our church and reception site booked let alone a brand new life introduced to the world all on the same day. And we didn't miss anything. I am so grateful for everything and everyone I have. It definitely was a day of vulnerability for me, and Rick was by my side the whole way.

And the weeks just keep flying by...

Happy New Year!!!

Oh yeah, new year is over. ;) We're already well into January and it feels like forever since I've posted. I guess holidays just do that to me - sometimes it drags on forever, filled with obligations and activities, and sometimes it all flies by in a blur, filled with obligations and activities. ;)

So I'm typing on my new laptop that I bought before the Black Friday madness during Thanksgiving time. And this font looks different so we'll see how it all comes out.

Wedding plans are in full swing and we've made much headway. Lots of ideas, narrowed down options, and a low budget are keeping me well-grounded and happy. :) Nothing like resources at your fingertips and a billion options to make one's head spin, so having limitations and budget constraints does wonders for my sanity! :) David's Bridal is also having a $99 gown sale which ends next Monday. Is it ever too early to buy your dress?

Today is also the start of my first day of grad school. And I've already finished my homework for the week!!! Yay me. Hopefully (and hopefully not) courses will be this easy and a breeze (but not, so I get my money's worth of challenges).

Coming up: my birthday! I'm going to take the day off and go play with my super-preggie sister who's going to pop in March. I'm going to be an auntie! (and it's a girl)

Even with all these changes and new routines to-be, I'm taking everything in stride and am pretty stress-free (someone told me today that it's called Maturity, HAHA!). Although that doesn't explain the migraine I got this morning... ;) But I'm not freaking out, overwhelmed, or anxious about all these new things that seem to be happening at the same time. I sure am grateful for my life and all that I have, and God must have a wonderful plan for me. :)

I love my fiance.

Irritated Iguana

So I decided to continue these posts with the animal alliterations. I think they're fun. This time I'm irritated. And I'm an iguana because they're slow-moving reptiles, and no matter how hard I've tried to get my life back to normal, things keep coming up to slowwwww me down from accomplishing things. But Mercury's in retrograde, so what can I say.

Today is Wednesday. And it took me 1.5 hours to get to work because traffic was a nightmare. Again. Seems like what used to be a nightmare commute is turning out to be the norm. Which really beats on one's patience. Especially mine.

To add to my ongoing irritation as of late, I was cleaning the apartment last week and in the process of being irritated and lazy, decided to stuff a whole jar of pickled carrots (sliced) down the garbage disposal in the sink. Not a good idea. I clogged the thing, whined, cleared it via telephone advice from my mother, and left it alone. Only to discover the next day that yes, I cleared the disposal, but the drain was clogged. So after a few days I poured Liquid Plumber down there. And then a few days later tried baking soda and vinegar. And entertained the idea of buying a cheap plunger and having at it. But instead I wrote a note to the apartment manager asking for her to call a plumber with a snake. OH SIGH. So now we're waiting for the plumber. But the manager couldn't get a hold of him, and now the owner of the apartment complex is involved; and she's given out our number to her Roto Rooter man. Who hasn't called yet.

OH SIGHHHHHHHH. I'm mad at myself because I caused it. Stupid me. And Rick's stupid pickled carrots. That he didn't even eat more than two pieces of because he said they tasted funny. Like pickled carrots would. Sheesh! ;)

Went to the library yesterday after work because there was a book sale going on. Got lucky with parking but when I went into the library, I couldn't find where the sale was. I knew it was upstairs... but the stairs going up to the children's library was closed off. I wandered around, found some GRE books that I was going to check out, and tried to find any stairwells and elevators. Nope. I was close to asking someone for directions (gasp!). I went back out towards the staircase I'd first seen and saw someone come out of the doors, so I decidedly ignored the "DO NOT ENTER" and "PAINTING IN PROGRESS" signs and went in. Smelly, yes, but I was determined to get to the book sale. And no one ran me down to stop me. At the top of the stairs, and into the children's department was a backwards sign that said "CLOSED," taped across the door frame. Oops. So I definitely wasn't supposed to be in that stairwell. I waited a few moments for the librarian in there to turn away, and snuck underneath the sign. I felt like a rule breaker! God forbid. Walked down the hallway and the sale was there, being held in what they called the "auditorium." And I thought, How did people get up here?! And then I saw the stairwell across from the auditorium and thought... Hmmmm. I guess there's a stairwell on the opposite side of the building where I walked in. DUH. Irritation.

Anyways, I went in and pored through the aisles of paperbacks and hardcovers, fiction and nonfiction, children's books, CDs and cassettes, textbooks and reference volumes, and found... wait for it... MUSIC books. I was floored. Literally, since the boxes were on the ground. (HAHAHAHA... ahem) Four heaping boxes of classical piano music books, brand spankin new, stuff that I used to pay an arm and a leg for every year depending on what my piano teacher had planned for me that year according to my level's standards. There were no signs saying how much the books cost, but I didn't care. Couldn't have been that much anyways because "small books" were 25 cents, "medium books" were 50 cents, and "large books" were $1. How do you distinguish what's what by that description anyways???

I squatted there in my 4 inch espadrilles and dress (ARGHH) and picked out a few choice books before finally having to get up and stretch out my toes and calves. Sheesh. Of all days for me to have decided to dress up for work. I made my way to the cashier after maybe an hour and the music books cost... wait for it... wait for it.... TWENTY FIVE CENTS. Of course, while I was there, I overheard some awful 90 year old librarian who had her panties on too tight complaining about her student volunteers who weren't do anything. OH SIGHHHH. Why do some librarians give us a bad rep? Those kids were in there volunteering their weekday evening (albeit a requirement for graduation), staying out of trouble and off the streets, potentially missing dinner, and she didn't even give them specific instructions other than "clean up and make things look nice," so what else were they to do but mill about and chat? Can't expect everyone to be proactive, especially with a control-freak librarian in charge.

If she had said, "You - take charge of the nonfiction section by making sure that all the books are facing right side up and whenever there are gaps, fill them in with other nonfiction books that are on the floor underneath the tables. You - do the same with the reference books and children's books" the kids would have had something to do and been accountable for their areas. The librarian was being passive agressive towards the kids and I heard her complaining to the other librarians about two kids and said, "I don't want them here, they're not doing anything, they must be from the community service club, they're bad" and I wanted to protest. Or slap her. The other ladies, who were nicer and seemed to just tolerate this lady's rantings, told her to just send them home. Which she did by saying to them, "Just sign off and go home. There's not enough to do and there's too many people here." Not enough to do? Then why complain about them not doing anything??? Perhaps if she gave them something to do, they'd do it, and then there would be things do to. ARGHHHH. Obviously, this lady had issues.

I even heard one of them ask her what he could do to help and she replied, "you mean like clean up like I told you to do, which you didn't??" (I felt my eyes widen as I thought "Holy sh*t!") and there was a long pause from him before he replied, "...but you told me to go over there, so I couldn't finish here," and she bit back, "Yeah, okay, whatever."

Ten bucks this lady was the classic, stick-in-the-mud, old-maid librarian who never married or had kids. And obviously had a problem communicating with human beings. I was irritated.

Off my tirade.. anyways, I was irritated. Again. Because although I made out like a bandit with my $3.25 armful of books, I sat in the Del Taco drive-through for FORTY MINUTES. I could have driven to my sister's house 30 miles away and had dinner there in 40 minutes. By the time I made it up to the one and only window, I was soo peeved (but not enough to leave), but as I looked into the face of the nice lady who was running around inside with two other workers, I couldn't be mad. She was trying her best and moving as fast as she could (and she was a hefty lady). She got my order right, gave me the right change, gave me a zillion packets of mild hot sauce, and was still nice to me, so I couldn't yell at her for the line being slow even if I'd really wanted to. I wished her a nice evening and she smiled and said, "Thank you for waiting."

Who can be irritated when someone else who should be irritated smiles and says, "Thanks"?