Happy Father's Day

Looking back on my past, I have accepted the fact that before I came here to the States, my life back home was pretty much a very protected, pristine, immaculate one.

I blame the fact that I am the youngest one. And physically a bit tiny. And I got sick quite a lot as a baby, compared to my sister who is taller and has a stronger built than me, who virtually never got sick, who was the high school volleyball captain. And, get this: who would have the power to physically smack anyone trying to offend her. She's the total opposite of me. There's an infamous rumor of her smacking my brother's head with my mom's high heels when they're kids because my brother pulled a trick on her. Ouch.

My dad... oh, where do I start...

My dad spoiled me rotten and protected me from everything that is even remotely potentially harmful. He thought and still thinks that I am all that. That I am the precious one. No one was good enough for me. He disliked all of my previous boyfriends. Until they became an ex-boyfriend. He hated them all. Only ChicagoDimcorner passed the hatred phase. Finally.

I remember the first year that I was in Chicago and my dad got sick and was admitted to a hospital in Jakarta. No one told me.
No one told me until a few days later when he got better and was released from the hospital. He told everyone to keep it quiet from me, fearing that I would worry and feel sad.
What?

I mean, WHAT?

He also taught me how to drive, but then hired a driver to drive me around, because I am a bad driver.

He gives unsolicited advise. Starting from career choices, boyfriend choices, my dilemmas in life. Everything.
All the time.

He protected me too much that he took care everything for me without thinking that he might want to let me do things my own way so I can learn from my mistakes.
Or so that I can form my own opinion.
Or so that I can be independent and not being spoon fed all the time.
I didn't even know how to pay my bills when I first got here.

So today, a few days after father's day, I need to get this off my chest:
Look dad, I'm a good driver now. Well, at least I am an okay driver, except when I'm mad because someone just ruthlessly cut my lane. Or when I'm in downtown Chicago, because they are all crazy there. It's not my fault. I am the only sane driver.
I know how to pay my bills since then. How to write a check. Manage my accounts. All that financial, grown up crap.
I'm strong enough to hear alarming news, like if someone got sick and admitted to the hospital. Or that someone's blood test wasn't all that great. That's would explain all the sugar-free food I sent you last week. Got it?
I'm happy that now you embrace ChicagoDimCorner like your own son. Although I hope that since he's like a son now, you won't start giving unsolicited advice too So, keep your cool, Dad. He likes you.
And if I need an advise, I'll ask you, but if not, that means that I know what to do.

And since I was away from home, I went to the bars, clubs, drank, got drunk, got a bad hang-over the day after, got home at 3 AM, all the things you really never want me to do. But I kept an eye on my drinks so no one slipped anything in it. I know my liquor limit, I didn't engage conversation with strangers. I kept an eye on my back when walking home at night. I have tear gas on my key chain, just in case I need to use it.
I made my mistakes, so I can learn from it.
I'm surviving.
I'm doing fine.

I know you are damn proud of me though.
And I know you keep a picture of me and ChicagoDimCorner in your wallet and you show it off to whoever wants to see it. As embarrassing as it is (not the picture, but the showing-off part), I'm letting you to do it.

And I know you love me.
And that's why you did all the annoying things you did... or still do.
And of all people in the world, I guess you're one of the very few people who has the prerogative right to do all that anyway.
Because you're my dad, who drove my to school for 14 years. And some more. You stayed up all night when I got measles. Did everything you could to make sure I have food on the table, went to a good school, read all the books I want. You carried me to my room when I fell asleep on the couch.
Who will walk me down the aisle someday and of course, give unsolicited advice on my kids' names later in the future. And I bet, names will not the only advise you will solicit.
I know it all, and I'm bracing myself for all that. For a hundred more years to come.
So, happy father's day, Dad.

I love you too.

Never leave home without it

I learned the hard way, never ever leave home without bag to pick up after you dog.
Poop happens.
And you just don't know when.
Even if you think, since it already happened twice today, it won't happen again.

Enough said....

:)

Tiny big hole

So,... when I made the previous blog, I was happy to declare that my only problem was the allergy, right?
Right?
Yea, ok... not really anymore. Because on my next visit, when they zoomed into my retina, my doctor found a hole. On the edge of my right retina.
Yes. Retina.
The part where the eyes received the light from outside and translates it to a vision.

Well, not that I was going blind or something.
But I might.
If I let it be.
So, in short, a small chance, I might. But if I'm lucky, I won't.
When I first heard the news from my doctor, it took me a few seconds to digest the news, then I said to her: Well, Doc, now I feel that it is a good thing that I have this allergy, because then you checked my eyes out and found out about this hole.

So I chose to fix this tiny hole, just to prevent, you know, the possibility of my retina being detached and I lose my eyesight.
Yea, I know,... sounds kinda scary. Though, bear in mind, it's a very tiny hole. And so, it might not even happen. Ever.
But, c'mon, by show of hands, if this happen to you, who would just do nothing and see what 's going to happen in the future?
Anyone?
Nope?

It is alright now, though. No worry, the doctor lasered it. And the hole is closed.

But throughout the whole experience, I looked back and realized some things:

1. I'm not as healthy as can be. See, I woke up every morning, thinking I was. I barely ever got really sick. I barely have to go to a doctor, knock on wood. And of all things I have, vision is one of the things I thought I had near perfection.
When I went to this eye doctor and they tested my vision with the letter reading game (you know, you read the letters while it gets smaller and smaller) I aced the test. Hands down. I almost high-fived the nurse. But I guess, even though I have good eye lenses, they are of no use if I got screwed up retina, eh?
Tragic.
So, after this news sank in. I saw the fact. The fact that I'm not invincible. I'm prone to health issues too, just like other people, and accepting that fact wasn't easy at all. I was out of my element, I became cranky in the inside, and I wonder, what else could've gone wrong by now without anyone checking them.
Having said that, my defense mechanism made me put up a damn good wall on the outside. Because I told this news to people with straight-nonchalant face, like I was telling them that I had a zit and the doctor will squeeze its life the heck out of my face.
Pride, maybe, made me do that. I guess I don't want people to pity me, or feel sorry for me. I guess... I don't know why I acted that way. I remember, at work, I would go to the restroom and just locked myself in. Put off my smiley-calm-professional face, and just sat there with my cranky face. No, not crying, but still, I think I was under a lot of stress and I just needed some time-out from people.
So, now, I know how I would react when I have serious fears in life. Yup, I hide my real emotion and fake it real good. Pretend that all is peachy and fine.

2. I need to be careful on how I deliver news to my parents. I almost never regret anything that I did in the past. Because I think, whatever I did in the past, at that very moment when I made a decision, I already thought that it was the best way. The result might prove otherwise, but I don't linger on a second of regret over something. It was done and over with.
But, this time, I have to say, I could've done better when breaking the news. Because I just laid the news out there, flat-out brutal truth on the phone to my mom. And I guess, I could've told her first that it wasn't a big deal, blah blah blah, the laser wouldn't even hurt, and it would be only like 2-3 seconds. And the chance of me having a retinal detachment is small because the hole is tiny,... blah blah blah.
Apparently, I made her cry. I realized that after a long paused on her side and her voice was all nasally. Need to keep in mind that since I am an adult now (wow, did I just say that?) I need to put more thoughts and sensitivity into these kind of things. It should never happen that way again.

My eyes are okay now.
Still the fear is there. Not necessarily about my eyes, but just in general, I feel vulnerable.
And when I have fear, guess what I do?
Yes, I mask it well. Just like I'm doing in this post. Telling the story like my problem is just a tiny zit.

I'm seeing double

I went to an eye doctor on Friday to check on my compulsively itchy eyes. It had been going on for almost a week and I begin to worry. So off I went and get them checked. I knew that the doctor would say that it's allergy. But, I did not know that she'd inspect every single nano-inch of my eyes, including the back of my eyes. In the spirit of checking everything, they gave me some drops to dilate my pupils to check my corneas. But little did I know, for the rest of the day, I couldn't freaking see. Everything was so freaking bright. And blurry. Well, I can see, but I can't.

If you know what I mean.

Having said that, I drove home by myself. And I high-fived myself when I got home in one piece.
I can't read, I can't cook, well I still did, but really, the whole thing was just a 'guesstimate'.

Anyway, then I asked my boyfriend to drive me to the pharmacy for my eye drops. Guess what, the pharmacy lady told me that one tiny bottle, 5 ml bottle, cost me 50 bucks. And even, if I didn't have insurance, I would have had to pay 98 bucks.

I don't understand, how come drugs are so freaking expensive here, in the US. The country that's supposed to be well-developed and rich. Someone, tell me, where the heck does all that money go?!! To some CEO of the drug company to purchase his/her third beach house? Is it possible that medicine is cheaper in Indonesia? It's outrageous.

Well, anyway, the whole reason why I made this blog is to tell you this. I was nowhere near blind. I was just being a sissy. I still could see things in overall. But after a few hours, I got frustrated and went to bed. I was really frustrated, I couldn't surf the net, didn't know how much salt I've put in my cooking, can't even sign for my credit card charges in the pharmacy. Can't dial the numbers to call my mom. Can't even text her to tell her that I went to an eye doctor.
I mean, man, I can't imagine being blind. Can't, can't, can't imagine how HARD it must be.
I'm just thankful for my health.
That's all I want to say.
I'm thankful that my biggest eye issue right now is just allergy. And that's it.

I tried to not (again) post something about my work, although that might be one of the things I love to rant about.
So, right now, again, I failed not to complain.
How can I not, when my boss last week said that he wanted to make me a team lead? Shoving me more responsibilities.
Me?
A team lead?
So, I asked him, does this mean that y'all are gonna hike up my paycheck because I will have to do more crap?
So the boss said: wait, let me get back to you, I needed to ask for the big boss's permission.

So he came back to me yesterday.
Nope.
Because I just got a raise a couple of months ago. So, we'll provide you with just more bonus in a few months, then, we'll see how you perform then we'll rise up your paycheck.

Ok... first of all, I did not ask to be a team lead.
Don't shove me more responsibilities without any incentive. Don't shove me responsibilities, new title without me asking for it, then want to 'evaluate' me on this.
I'm not a social worker who voluntarily work my ass off unpaid to make the world a better place to live. I work so that I can go sky diving this summer, buy food for Bandit, and buy some friggin' bling bling whenever I feel like it.

Also, then I asked if they are going to expedite my green card process.
Nope, they are going with the slow process, which is a much sure bet, but take, like, forever to get done.

So, today, I said to my boss: Dude, thanks, but no thanks.

Then he somewhat beg me to take the position with all the praises of how the clients just love me and the coworkers think that I am great.

Talk is cheap.
And it won't help buying me those expensive non-meat turkey and baby back ribs.

Gosh, I better stop this post and update my resume.

A buddy of mine from work and I finally formed a blog.
About our boss.
So that we can gripe, whine, complain, bitch out.
http://thestupidboss.blogspot.com/
Because, c'mon, seriously, We were asked last week to go to the main office and pretend to work there because a bigwig client is coming to town and going to visit the office and it's a big but empty office.
So, instead of telling the client: Yeah, the office is empty because 90% of us works at the client site, they have chosen to send us there, so we can fill in the cubicles and pretend for two hours that we actually sit there on daily basis.

By the way, I said no and I didn't go.

I'm late to work, but ...
Whatever.
A friend inspired me to sky-dive.
I'm thinking about it, pondering whether I will actually do it. And if they need push me out of the plane because I won't muster enough strength to jump on my own.
Whether I'll pee in my pants. Literally.
Will I pass out?
Or, will I remember to pray to God, since, I'll be 5 thousand feet closer to Him at that time.

Interesting... just considering it makes me feel like I need to write a will.

Yes, I have it

Week after week I have been thinking about so many 'why's lately.
So many 'why's that I feel so tired.
I do think that quarter life crisis exists.
I have it.
It's either I have it or I am hypochondriac.
Won't I be a hypochondriac if I genuinely think that I am hypochondriac?
OK. I won't confuse you more.

So, this is what it is like to be an adult. Fully independent. Working your ass off, totally responsible of your own health, what you eat, what you buy, who should do your tax, service your car, make sure you don't miss a nephew's birthday, call your mom, and actually listen to your mom's issue (and not the other way around). Go to church, go to work, go to the grocery store, do your laundry, iron your work shirts, email to your dad, cook for yourself (who else would?), vacuum the whole house from all the dog hair, look at dust and think 'Hm,... dust is the by product of dust mites, so if I see dust, it's as good as an indication that the mites exist, should I Clorox everything to kill it? Dilemma between cleaning some more or just drop the whole thing and have some rest. I've seen pictures of dust mites. So I know what those suckers look like, except in my head they're as big as a cat. Water the plant, pray for my fish, Munchy, who is sick and at the moment is swimming sideways so that God will give it another chance. Pay bills on time, pay mortgage on time. Remember when to change the oil, check my mails, add my windshield water, change my raggedy window wiper.
What else do I miss?

Now, my whys.
Why the heck does someone stays in the fastest lane but only driving 60 miles an hour.
Why do my hair so puffy on some days? I look like Tina.
Turner that is.
Why can't everybody just be quiet? I can't hear myself think.
Why do I life here? Here in the US like there's no other country where I can settle down and move on with my life.
Why aren't I interested to go clubbing again? Have I gone old and moldy.
Talking about old, I think I have more wrinkles then ever. And eye bags as big as Santa's belly.
Why can't I have a night of sleep without dreams.
Why are my dreams are all fill with stressful and weary emotions?
Why do I feel like happiness is just a virtual concept?

I feel so restless.

There...
I thought I won't bitch about life, but I guess today I do. And it doesn't even make me feel better.
I don't know what to do.

The other day was so cold that I thought to myself, why don't I just move to Alaska if I want this kind of weather. It is so freaking cold, it hurt to breathe.
So, out of curiosity, I googled "weather in Alaska", only to find out that, it was warmer over there than here. By 16 degrees.
The world is coming to an end.
Nuff said...

Having been slaving my ass off, my boss and my boss' boss informed me today that I got a raise, and a bonus too.
Goody.
So I called my mom about my raise, right.
And I thought that I would get a oh-congratulation-sweetie kinda respond but instead, the respond was a minuscule "oh" and followed by unenthusiastic "how much bump is it per paycheck" and "oh, they could've done better than that".
Yep, she burst my bubble with a saber, totally wreck the sense of achievement that I had going before calling her.
Party-pooped my evening.
My boyfriend asked, whether I lost the happiness I had when I went home today bringing the news.
I said, I felt like I accomplished something. It feels good to know that the director of the Demand Planning Group said to the President of the client's company that he would want only me as his single point of contact on issues or questions and not even need to talk to my boss. So it wasn't like I was just happy for the raise, but I feel accomplished.
And after the phone call, I felt disappointed.

I think, I might have been Americanized. Not really in a good way. Because Americans have this tendency to be big in sugar coated praises like, oh honey, good for you! or I'm so proud of you. Oh, wonderful. Excellent. Perfect. Way to go!
And my mom is the mother of all practicality, let me get the calculator first and break down the number.

Well, anyway, I got a raise!
So, there.
Whatever....

Quote of the day: "Bandit! Don't eat yellow snow!"

The comments on my previous posting made me smile. Now I know I have girlfriends who'll be there when I get married, have kids, (if ever) get a divorce (knock on wood), menopause, sag, get a face lift, sag again, get all over lift, form a Golden Girls Club and die.

The Wedding Gown

Moment of truth: Having being engaged for almost three years and never have the chance to actually wear my dress is kind of wearing me out. I don't want to sound like whiny ditsy girl whose goal of life is to have a 'magical' fantastic extravagant wedding day with my prince charming riding in a chariots pulled by white sparkling horses with a party that is the talk of the century, but being engaged for so long is really is not normal.
But, oh well, since we have some issues moving on to the 'W' day, we are still engaged.
Not yet married.
And not yet have a date (just in case anyone asks. Seems like it is the most asked question there is about our relationship. And I'm not being bitchy, just informational).

We are postponing because we are waiting for my boyfriend's greencard, which apparently costs us three years of our non-wed lives already.
I bought my dress ages ago, before knowing that we'll have to wait. There was a sale going on, so I just bought it. Only to find, two days later, in the lawyer's office, that my boyfriend has to stay single until he gets his greencard.

Then the wedding gown store had another sale. Then another sale then another sale. Then another sale.

And once in a while I took a peek at my dress. Making sure that the color is still white and that there's no brown spots whatsoever. And I'm thanking my taste for picking a classic kind of dress, not the trendy looking ones which style might only last a few months, or maybe a year. Top. I made sure that everything is still intact, keeping the mental image of how I looked in it and how I really liked it. Man, I really don't know when the big day is and if the wedding gown can make it. And in what state will it be by then. Darn it.

Sometimes sadness came rushing in, but I never the kind who sulks at corner of my room wondering why life is hard. Because hardship makes one's soul more sustainable. It is just part of life. Just like Virginia Woolfs, hardship brings mental strength, if not inspirations. Although I don't want to have bipolar disorder and then drown myself.

My sweet boyfriend said sorry once in a while when he sees me looking a bit down. On which I smile at him and said, that it's okay and that it's not no one's fault.

Then the other day, I saw, yet another commercial on TV. The store is having... guess what... yet another sale. So I told my boyfriend, "Do you know what I'm gonna do with my wedding gown after the wedding day?"
"What?"
"I'm going to sell it back home. And give you back the money, after all you bought my that dress" (Note: it is old custom. Long story. We were keeping the parents happy. Well, mine, actually).
"What? Oh... yeah... that's right, we have a wedding gown already for you. You know, you don't have to wear that one. Once we are moving on and actually getting married, we'll get another one. Don't worry about the old one, Hunny".
Then he gave me a peck on the cheek and a hug.

I stood there. In the middle of the kitchen. Tears welled up and throat was closing in. Simply because, I have been hanging on that dress with my dear life, with my prayers. Because he bought that dress. Not his parents. He bought me the dress. Damn it! And, maybe without knowing, he released my burden.
And I thought, hardship also proves one's true character. And I'm winning a lottery with this one.

Sunday Afternoon Nap

Look what surprise my boyfriend sent me about 10 minutes ago.

It's a Sunday afternoon. What else can one do?

People are giving us free dog food. Pedigree did, Petco gave us coupons of free food.
My boyfriend's church member gave us a humongous bag of dog food.
I guess now I'm in the circle of the fellowship of adopting pet parents.

By the way, I was driving out of my house complex to work this morning and I put on Michael Franks' Down in Brazil. Though the trees are bald and I'm wearing a wool coat and a sweater underneath. For three and a half minute, I felt like it's summer and I was walking by a beach.
Sigh,... that song is a masterpiece.
I'm going to Brazil one day, and I'm going to see if it actually takes a day to walk a mile.

The Dog

Having spent the last month barely blog or even give news to anyone, here I am.
Full of dog hair, sitting in front of my notebook.
My sweet boyfriend almost 'gave' me a dog for my birthday, and I said, no way, I'm gonna purchase it with our credit card, so that this dog will surely be 'ours' (instead of mine) and he will have to also take care of it.
So, I did. I adopted a dog. A sad looking dog from the Humane society. I picked the one that no one wanted, the one that has been in the pound for quite a while, the one that's older (since the puppies are hot sale). And I adopted instead of buying from a pet store because the price that we paid was actually a donation to the humane society, so that they can keep saving and taking care of neglected animals. So,... shame on you who bought pets from a pet store. For your information, more than 4 millions animals were euthanized each year in the US. (In this case, also, shame on Paris Hilton. She bought hers from a store).
Anyway, on a lighter note, the dog is a riot. He likes car ride and walking a lot.
I seriously think he's mental. He barks on school buses and the garbage trucks. He has breath issue that we need to take care. Seriously.
We need to take him to the vet to get his teeth cleaned, because, boy, the breath is a killer.
I don't think he had a good past, since he is very timid at times. But I think sooner than later he would understand, that I don't hit.
So he doesn't have to close his eyes in terrors when I raise my hands. Or be jumpy all the time and not let anyone touch his tail.
It's a hassle really. Having a dog. And it's a mess. And it's costly.
But I guess, having no family here makes one feels kinda lonely at times.
Although my boyfriend is almost always around, but he's busy sometimes.
I just realize that Bandit, the dog, does fill the hole I feel of having no company.
Because he would come to me when I'm alone. And the he would stand on his two feet. Then I'd pick him up.
And he'd lick my face. And I would say how stinky his mouth is, and threaten to take him to the doctor.
Then he would lick me again.
Then this time, I'd just hold my breath and bear with it.
Then he would put his cheek on my cheek.
And I would start slowly moving, doing a little tip toe dance.
And start singing silly songs about dogs (Like "Bandit, gug guk guk, kemari, guk guk guk...")
And he would cling still, enjoying being held.
And I would do a slow dance and hum in the middle of my big empty bedroom enjoying holding him while we are sealing each other's loneliness.

Oh Holy cow,
I think I'm going to adopt a dog.

The Reasons Why

It is a known fact to people who had stumbled upon my blog before, that I have an air-head boss. Oh, who, by the way, will go on vacation almost for the whole month of December.
Joy, joy.

Why do I hate him so? Well,... when he talks and tries to finish a sentence, most of the time he would get distracted and talk about something else, hence forgot to finish the first sentence.
Meaning, then, forgot why he wanted to talk to you in the first place.
So, a five minute discussion would most likely end up in 20 minutes without valid points, then along the way, other thoughts usually spring and he would remember tasks that he had forgotten to do and assigned you to 'help him with this or that because you're the best person to do it'. Because you're awesome and great.

So, I hate him, basically because of this:
I'm a bottom-line kind of girl. Finish your sentences and be done with the discussion in 5 minutes. I don't want to waste the other 15 minutes of my time listening to him blabbers. The kind of people that talks without a point really gets to me.
Secondly, I'm not his freaking maid. I'm an IT consultant for Nicole Kidman's sake.
Let's talk about what I can do. Technology wise, Oracle wise, PL/SQL wise, Unix wise, how to prevent the issue that we had yesterday, or whatever. But not about how he's swamped with his work, and doesn't have the time to create an organization chart for his administrative /
management meeting and since I'm good at PowerPoint assigns me secretary jobs.
Thirdly, I hate it when he does point number two, there will be lines like: Because you're really good at excel spreadsheet, or, you did wonderfully on that power point for the organization chart. I can't stand manipulative people.

So basically,... that's why. In a nutshell.

Based on the above, the other day, when it was 3 minutes before 5 pm, when we were suppose to go home, he called my next cubicle coworker (who had gone for the day).
I checked the caller id while putting on my coat and my other coworker asked:
"Who's that?"
(Grinning) "The boss"
(Coworker grinned too) "Oh,... aren't you gonna answer that?"
"Of course not. Do you wanna?"
"Oh,.. nooo"
"Let's just go" (Giggle giggle).
She was also leaving, but then she stopped.
"Oh,... wait a minute, what if he can't get a hold of anyone and then call the on-call blackberry? I have the on-call blackberry this week."
"Oh, crap,... quick, forward all your call."
"But to who???"
(Silent...)
"To himself! So when he calls he'll get another call on his call from himself."
(Laugh giggle giggle).
"Is that possible?"
"No silly, let's go, he won't call you. He might already have forgotten why he calls in the first place by now anyway..."
So with that, we went home.

And that is why I need a new job, even though to drag yourself to really look for one is really, really tough.

Thanksgiving Ponder

To eat turkey or not, that's the question.
Having never been really took fancy in turkey anyway, I think I'm going to skip it this year.
My boyfriend with his vegetarian spirits has also sent me a link: 10 reasons not to eat chicken, with links in the web page itself to other articles such as: 10 reasons not to eat pigs, 10 reasons not to eat cows, 10 reasons not to eat tuna, 10 reasons not to eat turkeys and so on.

You got the message.

To tell you the truth, I've been reducing almost like 90% of my meat consumption anyway, after a coworker just violated my ignorance bubble and shoved me a PETA magazine full of horror stories and pictures of how badly they treat the animals. Since then, I'm somewhat vegetarian,... most of the time.
Except for dimsum and when I go to Olive Garden & have some Zuppa Toscana (everyone has their weaknesses, you know).

So, I'm not eating turkey this year. Although, come to think of it, I'm not pardoning a turkey. My boyfriend's family still bought a turkey anyway, and will roast it. There will only be more leftovers this year. A turkey still died (get murdered) for the occasion.
And even if his family did not bought a turkey, a turkey carcass would have still been there. Frozen, in the grocery's freezer. Dead.
But, mentally I will feel better, that I don't partake in that, thanks to the article which has successfully emotionally blackmailed me. See what it said about Turkeys:
"Turkeys are “smart animals with personality and character, and keen awareness of their surroundings, ... are social, playful birds who enjoy the company of others... relish having their feathers stroked and like to chirp, cluck, and gobble along to their favorite tunes."
Shit.
They make a turkey sounds like a human.
Now I can't see turkey the same way again.
Ever.
And I'll have to eat Tofurkey forever.


Everybody knows a turkey some tofu and some mistletoe
Help to make the season bright
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight - The Christmas Song

Nice weather, friend or foe?

The tree at the back of the house has finally gone completely bald. And so does the maple tree by the driveway.
Fall is here.
And it is true what my boyfriend said, which was that the sunlight is different when it's fall or spring. the angle is never really straight down, like when it's summer.
I noticed that today, when I escaped from work during lunch and had a quiet lunch in a Chinese restaurant. The host set me a table by the window (Table for one, I said, holding my breath, because the last time I went there by myself, it seems like it was they were in total confusion how one would want to dine by herself. But today, he just nodded quietly and took me to a nice quiet corner by the window).
It was about noon, but the shadows of the yellow-leafed trees were long, and it was surreal because it's noon, but still nice. I felt like pulling out my laptop and start writing a book, while sipping my Chinese tea. But of course, I don't have my laptop with me and I only have like an hour lunch break and my air-headed boss would soon enough wonder where I am because he needs to assign me more things, his things that he doesn't know how to do. Plus I don't drink tea.
So, I just sat there, waiting for my order to arrive and I saw a squirrel crossing the street and I remember thinking, oh, stupid squirrel, this is why I see many of you, flatten out in the middle of the road. Hurry. Hurry. Blast, you stressed me out in the middle of my zen-like lunch. I held my breath. But then he got to the other side safely (exhale).
Come to think of my nice getaway, I don't know if I should thank God for a nice day, or be concerned that for a mid November we still have a high of 60 Fahrenheit. My boyfriend's sister told us that her shedding tree has a few tiny flowers. Even the trees are confused.
The earth is dying,... or to come for better words, it is having a fever.
I just hope there's a way out of this. I read an article in a newspaper about how to go green. And it is to choose the right leaders. Because, although you use efficient energy, drive a hybrid and recycle, it would make more impact if you have a leader that cares about the environment, since that person can enforce, in a much bigger scale, bills and decisions that would have changed a country.
You know what this means, right?
That until Santa joins the presidential race, you better start building your boat, just in case the Arctic ice melts some more that it has already been.