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Everyone needs a panda hold onto

End of a week. It’s nearly quarter to five Friday night and of course I shouldn’t still be up, but I did the thing again.

I just stood on the scale after avoiding it for a few days. Pleasant surprise. If my scale is to be believed (and I’m seldom convinced it is), I’m down seven pounds in three weeks and I’m down seventeen pounds since June 1. It’s been something of a roller coaster in between, so I’m really not looking back to June 1, the day I brought the scale home from Target.

However, the three weeks thing is a big deal to me because I’ve been actively trying to drop some pounds. More on that later.

We had our holiday party at work this afternoon via Zoom, as we did last year. It was pretty fun for a Zoom gathering. We had a couple of games and a fun gift drawing based on our performances during the games. It was also blessedly short, but of course its being (comparatively) brief means it was quite lacking in interpersonal goodwill, the vibe I most like about our holiday gatherings.

This stupid virus.

I’m feeling super down about the news these days, and the news is not especially bad. It’s just the normal bad. I think I’m feeling super sensitive to it lately.

Thursday I finished the book I’ve been reading during my lunch breaks. Every Day the River Changes: Four Weeks Down the Magdalena (2021) by Jordan Salama. I don’t read very much travel writing, yet I always enjoy it when I do. Saw mention of it on Twitter one day and bought it on impulse. And yeah, the title.

Today I got into Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara and the Sun (2021). So far so good. I’m leading a book discussion group in the office and this is our new selection. I didn’t select the novel, but I’m glad we’re reading it. I’ve meant to get into Ishiguro for a super long time.

Breakfast was overnight oats. Yes, I’m back on the overnight oats train. Lunch was at Panda Express: orange chicken and string bean chicken with super greens. That super greens side is the draw for me. Broccoli, cabbage, and kale. It’s a short walk from the office and by the time I have lunch, there are very few fellow diners. Good space for reading.

Dinner was a small bowl of granola with yoghurt (the yoghurt I made in my Instant Pot last weekend) and raw honey. Second dinner several hours later was a couple of quesadillas with whole-wheat tortillas. Those whole-wheat tortillas, I tell you, are not terrific. At the office, I snacked on pistachios. At home in the evening, I had two palmsful of popcorn: the Smartfood popcorn with Cap’n Crunch crunchberries mixed into it.

Five minutes after five. To bed.

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Friday 5: Are you prepositioning me?

Work has been a bit frenzied lately. It usually calms down for me in December — when I was first hired in December five years ago, they told me not to come in until the second week of January because there just wasn’t much for me to do yet.

If the last few Decembers have been less than frantic, I’ll just say I kind of earned them because in order to get year-end stuff out, my busy time is September into November. Those stories take time to write, and getting them approved by all stakeholders often takes even more time.

But I’ve picked up a new responsibility: sending out bulk emails on behalf of some of UH’s units. We are tenacious protectors of our data, as we must be. We collect money from a lot of people, and our records are freaking sensitive as heck. We also keep alumni data. So when the department of ______ wants to send out a bulk email to its donors or alumni, it does it through our foundation.

I’m not in charge of any of it, but we lost one of our people who used to do it, summer 2020 on the day I still think of as Black Tuesday. So responsibilities have shifted, and they continue to shift as people move into and out of positions.

I’d been bugging my boss for years to let me learn Mailchimp so I could help out with that stuff once in a while. Also because learning new stuff is critical to keeping me interested in my work. I finally got the okay when someone needed to pick up the mailouts for a few units.

The end of the calendar year is pretty busy for a task like this. I’m handling the smallest number of these and they still take up an enormous chunk of my time and energy. They’re not supposed to, but I’m still new to this task, so I’m still in the steeper part of the learning curve.

I’ve complained to my boss that I haven’t lately had any time for goofing off during my workday. I have to do my NYT crosswords at home before bed, rather than during breaks at my desk. I was being playful when I said it, but I was also being serious.

Not complaining about the work or the workload, actually. Just trying to keep it going without letting myself get fully immersed beyond a reasonable week’s hours. ‘Though I could certainly let myself without worrying too much. It would never be as self-destructive as when I was teaching.

It’s 2:33 in the morning and I’m still up because this last two weeks I crash as soon as I get home, for two to three hours, and then I’m up too late getting non-work things done. It’s a very unhealthy thing I do every so often and I find the cycle super difficult to break. I was going to reset last weekend, but I got a request to put together a proposal on Saturday afternoon and spent Sunday evening — late Sunday evening — doing it. Because end-of-year stuff. We’re a charity, and people want to get their donations in by the end of December.

Soooooooooooooooo I might as well do a Friday 5.

From here.

  1. When did you recently do something on the sly?
    I stayed late in the office to get a few things done Tuesday night. Was about to lock up (everyone else had gone home) when I remembered Wednesday is when I hoped to put my office Christmas gift out: eight tins of assorted teas from Harney and Sons. I wasn’t exactly sneaking around to do it, but I like to leave that stuff when nobody’s seeing me. Santa-like. I printed an obnoxiously punny message on some Christmas-printed cardstock and set it up nicely in the break room where we keep the tea stuff.
  2. Which of your plans for the coming week is still up in the air?
    I have to mail Christmas gifts to people I won’t see in person, and I still have two unchecked items on my list. Gotta pick something up then pack stuff to mail. I’m hoping to get the shopping done Saturday evening and mail it all out early Monday morning.
  3. What’s happening across the street?
    I live across the street from the faculty housing of a certain Hawaii private K-12 school, and since they’re about to begin Christmas break, it’s been super quiet over there. I think some of my neighbors are from off-island, so during breaks they go away. Just a suspicion; I don’t actually know any of them. Between semesters, there’s often some turnover there too, although less in December than in July.
  4. What have you heard recently through the grapevine?
    As I have said many times, I try to run away from gossip. If I consume any gossip at all, it’s usually about football or baseball, but that’s not gossip. In baseball’s winter months, it’s hot stove. A different creature entirely. Which player is thinking of signing with which team, that kind of stuff. And the hot stove league is quiet these days because the stupid Major Leagues are in lockout pending some kind of new collective bargaining agreement.
  5. What kinds of videos on YouTube are likeliest to send you down the rabbit hole?
    I don’t like looking at video on my phone, and I’ve never really liked it on my computer. I’m kind of old that way. I like computers and phones for reading and interacting. I don’t like them for sucking in video content. However, when I do get drawn in (or when I let myself willingly be pulled under), there are three common culprits. I like compilations of Jimmy Kimmel’s Celebrities Read Mean Tweets segments. I find them hilarious and have watched some of them several times. I also like concert videos of bands I like. Most of the musicians I really want to see in concert never make it out here, so if there’s good live video of them, I’ll occasionally lose a few hours. Related: the third culprit is a series by Loudwire, a metal blog, called Wikipedia: Fact or Fiction? in which the host interviews metal musicians, reading them stuff Wikipedia says about them. The musicians then confirm or correct the info. It’s just this chill vibe with musicians I admire the heck out of, and there are few things I find more interesting than artists talking about their art.
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The curse of the second hand

NaNoWriMo is kicking my butt, but I’m still plugging away. I’ve actually been more productive in week two than I was in week one, which is a little strange. The real test, as it always is, will be week three.

I made the Instant Pot yogurt I’ve been planning to try since very early in the lockdown. I don’t remember why I didn’t do it when I mean to, but I’ve done it now. Came out great. I can’t believe how easy it was. I used to eat yogurt every day, and now I can see myself doing it again since it’ll cost so much less if I make it myself. Yee-ha.

Too tired to write. I’ll pick this up Sunday morning.

So we nod over coffee and say goodbye
Bolt the door it’s time to go
Into the car with the radio on
Roll down the window and blow the horn

Ain’t that the curse of the second hand
Ain’t that the way of the hour and the day

Transitioning back to the office has been a challenge. Once I’m there, it’s pretty good. I focus better in my dark cubicle. I like seeing my coworkers. I do better in in-person meetings, which I still dislike, but at least I can engage, read the energy in the room, and pay better attention.

The biggest snag is the time issue. I joked all the time about waking up at 9:00 to be at my desk working at 9:15, but there’s a lot to that. I got used to working a certain way in my living room, and I can’t just switch back to how it was two years ago. I have to pack up my personal laptop and all the things that make my setup my setup: my mechanical keyboard and wireless mouse (which I was already toting to and from the office before the lockdown), my four-port USB hub with my USB-C, lightning cable, micro USB, and wireless mouse dongle. The mouse is Bluetooth capable, but it just works better this way. I’ve found it’s easier to just bring the entire hub with me back and without unplugging anything, so I don’t leave anything out.

Then there are my wireless headphones, my Bluetooth external speaker, my iPad, and my Kindle. Oh, and my company laptop. Most days I don’t need all this, but I’m so used to having it according to my moods and tasks that I’m not ready to deviate. It all packs in my eBags laptop backpack, everything in its assigned space, so as long as I don’t deviate from routine, I don’t forget anything.

For a while I was also lugging an iPad stand (I prefer to Zoom on my iPad as a first choice and my phone as a second choice), but that got ridiculous since it didn’t fit in the backpack, so I just bought one to keep at the office. Which I suppose is what I will do for most of the other stuff, piece by piece. Some of that stuff is pricey.

I picked up the iPad partially so I could leave my personal laptop at home most days. Still working on a system I like for making sure whatever I work on at home is available at the office. Yes, we have cloud storage but for some reason I’m finding it easier to email myself any in-progress work. Which is also cloud storage.

I picture myself most days, perhaps by next summer, just hauling my iPad and Kindle, perhaps in a messenger bag. Oh, and probably a gigantic water flask, as I’m also trying to figure out a system for having plenty of ice-cold water. We had an ice machine (a nice machine) in the breakroom that made good ice, but it’s broken and they’re not planning to repair it. The freezer in the breakroom that used to make things cold very quickly no longer does it for some reason! So frustrating.

This long, uninteresting breakdown of my process illustrates my point well, because it’s just one aspect of returning to the office. There are other things, like being able during the workday at home to prep dinner. Or to wash dishes or tidy the kitchen. All these domestic things I could incorporate into my workday that now wait until I get home from the office, at which time I’m too spent to do it.

I don’t have the mental bandwidth to prepare a lunch either, which I knew would be the case as soon as they called us back to King Street. Resigned myself immediately to dining out for lunch every day until I get back into some kind of groove. I actually don’t mind it, most of the time, since the lunch options are good around the office, but geez it adds up.

The commute’s not really a problem, since it’s a short, unstressful drive both ways most of the time. It’s actually making it easier for me to get to the beach regularly. It’s just the time. Forty minutes or so (totaling both trips) I could be doing something else, like sleeping.

I’m mildly surprised I haven’t gotten takeout for dinner more than a couple of times. I’m just so tired I want to get home. Plus, since it’s NaNo, I have to be ready for the nightly Skype sessions at 9, which means getting certain things done ahead of time, if I want to get to bed at a decent hour.

Meanwhile, I have a few health things to work on. I’ll save that for a separate post.

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Not a lockdown entry

My last lockdown journal was for Sunday, and here it is late Friday night. Wow. That’s a lot of remembering I’m sure I will fail at. But not tonight.

Just don’t feel like chronicling. I had a sleep-deprived work week in which I did not get enough done, but I finished strong Friday, as used to be my wont but hasn’t been lately. So I’m heading into the weekend feeling good. The last thing I submitted, that cancer center story that’s been bugging me for weeks, was enthusiastically accepted by the first two people I needed to satisfy, so this is good.

I could spend the whole weekend not thinking about work at all, but I’ll probably do a few easy, low-stress things just to keep them off my Monday list. I have a couple of mentally straining things to focus on next week, some of them with deadlines.

My brain is pea soup. My body is the fat trimmed from a slice of prime rib. My mood is rainbow shave ice. My eyes are a glass of iced tea when you’ve stirred too much sugar into it and you can see the grains swirling around before they settle.

It’s the NCAA men’s basketball tourney, and I’m (ssssh don’t tell my employers) running an office pool. Suuuuper low stakes. But it brings people together and gives them something to talk about at a time when, especially this year, we can all really use it.

I suuuuuuck at picking brackets. My final four was busted before lunch. Oral Roberts beat Ohio State in a major upset (a 15 seed beating a 2 seed) and I had Ohio State going to the Final Four. And you know what? I only regret that I picked them to go that far because I will NEVER pick Oral Roberts to beat ANYone unless it’s Liberty.

Liberty is also in the tourney and I of course picked against them. Because screw you, Jerry Falwell, and your charlatan offspring. And the crap university you founded. And the ground upon which it sits. But not the people who work and study there. I know some lovely people who went there.

A million years ago when I shared those screen shots of my crossword puzzle obsession, I lamented the blue square on a Monday last March. I remembered later why it was blue. The yellow squares are correct solves completed within a day after the puzzle posts. I nailed that puzzle but I forgot to do it before Tuesday evening, so it’s blue. Still annoying, but not as maddening as if I couldn’t do the puzzle.

I offer this explanation in case some lovely female reader out there crossed me off her list for having a blue square on a Monday. Lovely female reader, there are many completely valid reasons for crossing me off the list, but please don’t let it be for that.

I’ve been meaning to issue a rant about the uselessness of laws but my thesis is long and I never have that kind of energy anymore, so I may offer it in smaller bites.

Here’s bite number one. Most of us have known 55 miles per hour as the default speed limit on major American highways for our whole lives. There are a few places where in the last couple of decades the limit’s gone up to 65 or even 75. Here on Oahu, there are no roads where you can legally drive faster than 55, and because our major highways are so curvy in town, the limit is actually 45 in some places and 50 in most.

I haven’t checked my sources (okay, my source is a young adult novel read in eighth grade; it’s either Slaughter by Auto or Under the Influence by W. E. Butterworth, a pen name for the writer better known as W. E. B. Griffin, also a pen name), but if they are to be believed (and the author isn’t known for making this stuff up; he writes detective procedural novels), the speed limit on most American highways was 65 mph for a long time. It was lowered in the late 70s to 55.

You know why? It had nothing to do with safety. Engineers decide speed limits for safety based on roads themselves. That’s why the limit on the freeway through Honolulu is 45 or 50. The engineers set that.

The limit was lowered nationwide because we were in the middle of a gasoline shortage. Car engines didn’t burn fuel as efficiently then at higher rates of speed. This is less true today, as engines are designed to run better and more efficiently at whatever speed, but it was absolutely true then (less absolutely if you drove a manual transmission).

The government lowered the speed limit in order to get us burning less fuel. Given the circumstances, it’s totally understandable. Rough times call for rough governmental measures. This is not a rant about masks or the president’s COVID relief bill, although if you want to apply it there, I’m cool with it.

Obeying the speed limits is kind of an arbitrary thing for most of us anyway. The truth is, most people drive as quickly as they feel safe. The limit may be 25 on Nuuanu Avenue, but if the road is covered in steel plates, as it has been for like a year, very few people will drive 25. And if you live here, you know how slowly people drive to work on weekdays when it rains.

I live in a neighborhood with lots of multi-generational homes, which means lots of cars parked on the street (instead of in carports). And since it’s an old neighborhood, the streets are narrow and there are no sidewalks. Very few people drive 25 through my area because it feels very unsafe. And it is!

That stretch of freeway between Waipahu and Makakilo, though, is long and straight, and the limit may be 55, but if you drive 55 there, everyone is passing you. Unless it’s at night, in which case you have mixed observations. There are no freeway lights there, or at least there weren’t when I grew up in Waipahu.

This is all to illustrate one point in my thesis: we are generally a people who respects laws, but in many cases, such as when we’re on the road, our behavior and attitudes are goverened by something else.

Okay it’s a few minutes past eleven and I’ve got the typing itch out of my fingers, so it’s time to eat some dried apricots and kiiiiinda think about what I want Saturday to look like. Then it’s early to bed because pea soup.

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Missing Mojo

Wow. It’s been more than a month. I’ve been especially productive at work lately, which kinda drains the writing mojo out of me most of the time. I’ve got stuff to say, but the connections between my brain and my fingertips kind of get white-noisy after I’ve written all day.

Work is the same, mostly, except I’ve been picking up more of these hey-if-you-have-a-moment tasks, which I seriously don’t mind. They tend to pile up though, while I do the main stuff of my job, and then I get a little stressed. I find it all satisfying, which pleases me.

Many years ago, I tried to explain to Reid why Larry McMurtry is such an amazing writer. I envy a lot of writers, and McMurtry is maybe at the top of the list — not because I want to write what he writes (I don’t), but because his writing is clearer than anyone’s. “Do you know how difficult it is to do what he does?” I asked. His response, which I didn’t like then and don’t like now although I kinda accept it, was, “The fact that something is difficult doesn’t make it great.” Fair enough.

For the past fifteen years or so, clarity has been my primary focus, and I think it’s paid off. I’m still not even in McMurtry’s area code, but if I can point proudly to one thing in my professional writing, it’s readability, an offshoot of clarity. And this past month, I’ve had a few reasons to look at my work and be proud. Which of course is rather satisfying.

The problem with writing very clearly is that people don’t notice clarity in writing and consequently they don’t care about it. Which means they don’t appreciate it or value it. I have a few coworkers (including my supervisor, thank goodness) who’ve seen what I do with the stuff they send me for editing and understand. They’re sorta in the minority though. Most people see the grammar and spelling corrections, not the corrections I make for flow, so they think what I do is a matter of knowing the mechanics.

It’s true I know the mechanics in a way I can’t explain, not quite in the way a gifted musician can compose music without knowing music theory, but something like it. I don’t know stuff English majors are supposed to know, like what the present imperfect tense is, or what the difference is between intransitive and transitive verbs. I do know what the language is supposed to look like and sound like, and that’s gotten me by most of the time.

However, since that stuff has just always come to me, probably from years of locking myself in my room and reading, rather than learning how to throw a ball or dance with girls, I’m unimpressed with myself for it. Editing for readability? That’s freaking difficult. Especially when I edit so many academics’ writing.

No one has ever asked me for an example, but I have one at the ready. There’s a school within the University of Hawaii called SOEST. The School of Ocean and Earth Science and Technology.

This is the closest thing to a verbal version of FOIL (remember that from algebra 1?) I’ve ever seen. It’s a school. Check. What kind of school? A school of science and technology. In what realms? Ocean and earth. So it’s a school of ocean science, ocean technology, earth science, and earth technology. They condensed the whole thing down into something that needs parentheses, not in a language way but in a mathematical way: The School of (Ocean and Earth) (Science and Technology). FOIL it baby: first, outer, inner last.

If this doesn’t drive you mad, please be driven mad at least on my behalf. Have some sympathy: this is the kind of thing I have to work with all the time.

All of which is to illustrate that what I kick major butt at in my job is rewriting all this stuff in a way that makes sense to a general audience, in a way that reads smoothly and easily. This is the truly difficult part of my work, and with the exception of those few coworkers (and my supervisor, thank goodness), people don’t appreciate it.

Although Reid is probably right: the fact that it’s difficult doesn’t make it good. Or valuable, necessarily.

I’ve gone through quite a bit of agony over this, these past few months. I probably will again. For now, though, I’ve found a nice peaceful space where I’m proud of it on my own, and where I’m grateful for the appreciation I do get from coworkers whom I love, even if those coworkers aren’t the ones who decide how much I get paid.

I look back on the work I produced this past month and a half and I feel freaking good. I’ll take it.

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Following my arrow

Just had a really long day. Scribbling for a few minutes just to decompress. I won’t get into it here but if we’re FB friends you can read it there. If we aren’t, you should add me.

If you’ve never worked where payday is every other week, as opposed to twice a month, I suggest quitting your job and finding someone who’ll pay you this way. My first school paid this way, as did the engineering firm. The non-profit used to pay me twice a month but a couple of years ago switched to every other week, at the urging of employees. And yes, I’ve worked for a Japanese-owned company so I know what it’s like to be paid weekly! That could be sweet too but I don’t see it happening.

It means 26 paychecks per year instead of 24. People who work in places like this call those extra two the extra paychecks, and they can be glorious. See, most monthly deductions for stuff like insurance or parking are split in two, since you usually have two paychecks a month. Twice a year, you get a third paycheck in a month, and these paychecks don’t have the deductions. So not only is it a third paycheck in a month, but it’s often a larger paycheck.

I don’t have that many deductions, but I have more now than I ever did. I’m paying for parking (we get free parking after our fifth year; I’m just completing my third) and I loaded up on supplemental health insurance last year, in anticipation of turning fifty. I was sure I was going to get a colon cancer diagnosis, which I did not.

My check was not quite two hundred bucks larger, but holy moly what a difference it felt like. I’ve been super bummed about my pay lately. I knew when I switched careers I’d be starting over, but I kinda thought that in three years I’d have proven more value than they were expecting. My employer doesn’t see it this way.

The not-quite-$200 take-home pay bump this pay period isn’t quite half the increase I want, need, and deserve, and it felt soooooo good. I almost forgot how unappreciated I feel. Until this long (pricey) day, I almost felt like a grown-up making a grown-up living.

On the other hand, it’s Christmas. Getting most of my shopping taken care of during the weekend felt great, but now it’s going to be a pretty lean couple of weeks! Still feels good, though. Better to be scraping bottom because I spent money on gifts than scraping bottom because of the usual reasons.

Is it weird that I left teaching and became poorer?

I put Crush Girl on my Christmas list. I hope it’s not weird. I didn’t even get her something practical; I wanted to get her a book but I know her stack is pretty high right now. Plus I gave her a book for her birthday and I have a feeling she didn’t care for it.

So I got her something that’s probably just going to take up space but is a cute gift. I saw it while flipping through IG. Those ads are pretty useful. I’ve now purchased two things IG targeted at me, both of them gifts. And there’s one more thing I bookmarked to get myself for my birthday next month.

I didn’t see the Kacey Musgraves Christmas TV special, but I picked up the CD and it’s pretty cute. Yes, I still get CDs. Not nearly as many as I used to (thanks, employer!) but I don’t want the medium to die.

I feel fine about the long day I had, but it’s created me more work, which means at least two more long days in addition. Not really looking forward to that but not complaining either. I don’t know about jolly, but ’tis the season to be positive, and I remain so.

Oh, I finished NaNoWriMo just past 50K words. Yay. I’m drained! So I’ll save discussion about that for later.

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Even at My Worst, I’m Best with You

I can’t tell you why the title of this entry is relevant, but the song is playing on the speakers in this establishment, and the song is an especially good soundtrack to part of what I’m writing here.

I don’t know if I have it in me to do the Friday 5 this late Sunday evening. I’ll type a few thoughts and see.

My part in the stressful project at work isn’t as finished as I thought. I’m not sure when my part will be done — it seems when I think they’re happy with my draft, they come at me with “can we do this?” And it doesn’t bother me much but the communication this past week was weird. Like people are saying, “Why did you do this?” And I’m saying “You know why I did this. If you wanted to reverse it you totally could have, or just told me you wanted it reversed and I’d have been happy to do it.”

I understand my role, and I embrace it. I’ve embraced it for going on three years, and usually it’s not a problem. Tell me what you want, and I’ll write it. If I disagree, I may say something about why, but I’ll almost always defer unless the point of contention is about grammar or some other mechanical aspect of the language, which I consider myself better informed about than almost everyone I work with.

People I work with appreciate and respect my expertise. I don’t know much about most things, but I know what good writing is, and I know how to produce it. On this project, though, I think people aren’t being clear about what they want and don’t want. So I assume the drafts are fine until I’m told that I need to change certain things and I need to change them now.

Geez. I wouldn’t really mind that either, but be a little nicer about it, you know? And don’t make it sound like the draft is where it is now because of me. If I’m waiting for you to tell me what you want, and you don’t tell me what you want until seconds before you need it, don’t act like I’m the reason nothing’s been done yet.

Arrrrrrrgh.

This project has been making me lose sleep, and it’s not the work itself. I haven’t been nervous or stressed a single moment about the work, which involves some very high stakes. This team I’m part of always produces excellent work. High stakes don’t change any of that. I want our project to succeed, but I’m not afraid of its failure. That’s how you do good work.

It’s the communication that’s been driving me insane.

I’m working myself up just typing this, so I’m going to back off a bit.

This is going to sound a little weird, but I’d kind of like to piss Crush Girl off. Not about anything important, but maybe some minor way that sets her off. I haven’t seen her mad (although I’ve certainly made her mad; I just wasn’t around to see it!), and I suspect she’s beautiful when she’s angry.

I can think of two friends who got really beautiful when they were mad. One is Janice, with whom I spent a lot of time before she married my former college roomie Sterling. I was on the receiving end of at least four very angry scoldings and I have to tell you, that fury made a beautiful woman beautiful. A few times I saw her unleash it at others, and how great it was when I wasn’t the target. I could get a closer look, for one thing.

The other is R, whom I’ve seen angry more than anyone I’m not related to, and only a very few times was I the person she was angry with. Hers was a little different — she went right up to the line between anger and psycho. Once, when she was mad at her mom, I am quite sure I saw her go a step or two over the line, and that was pretty scary. I didn’t have anyone to compare it to until Helena Bonham Carter’s performance as Bellatrix LeStrange. Yeah, it was that kind of psycho-beautiful.

I’ve only noticed in the past couple of months (that is, in the time since she friendzoned me) that Crush Girl has a really musical way of speaking, especially when she’s either going a little gaga over a doggie or a baby, or when she’s listening sympathetically to someone else’s sad story.

I’m actually trying to learn a thing or two from her on that last thing. She makes all these really sympathetic sounds that I’m not sure would work coming from me, but the vocalizations are so sympathetic that I think they help all by themselves. When I hear someone telling her about their bad day or whatever, and she makes these (I’m not even going to try and spell them) sounds of caring, I feel like little daggers are going right into my heart.

I still don’t know her very well, especially not outside the one context in which we interact, but when I see the way she listens to people, I think she’s someone I could love. That’s never enough, I know, so don’t remind me. It’s a good sign, though. There’s a really good person in there.

R had a very musical way of speaking, which over many years of being her friend I picked up a little of, which I’m sure doesn’t help my already semi-effeminate speaking mannerisms, which have led many people to ask if I’m gay, which I’m not. Or from California, which I also am not.

Crush Girl’s musical inflections are different. Like she’s singing along with a completely different orchestra. Like she’s got a story to tell, and if you just wait a moment, she’s going to sing it to you. I’m picturing Amy Adams in Enchanted, although it’s not quite like that. I need time to think about it, because I’m pretty sure I can think of an actor she reminds me of.

this is a crappy picture of the movie on my tablet, but there are NO good still images on the web for this film! but dang: isn’t she pretty?

Speaking of Enchanted, I saw the new Anna Kendrick movie, Noelle, which is streaming on the new Disney +. It’s not great, but Anna is great in it, so I’ll probably see it a few times a week between now and the new year. It reminded me of a cross between Elf and Arthur Christmas. It’s going to remind everybody of Elf.

A coworker also saw it, and she said it reminded her of Elf and Enchanted, and I can see that too.

It has moments of cleverness and genuine, sincere kindness. It has moments of stupid, too, like when Noelle is required to address the North Pole denizens about what Christmas means to her. Ugh. Ugh. Bleah. Vomit.

But you know, I teared up twice and actually shed tears once. Anna really sells the kindness.

Now that things aren’t going to happen with Crush Girl, I should probably give Anna another chance. Although really, if she goes another ten years without calling me, I might stop waiting around.

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Friday 5: Body of Evidence

The stress at work continues, but while my part of the project is mostly done, the other people on it are really just getting going. They’re going to be shooting all week, away from the office, so I think I’ll be able to get back into a quiet routine. Here’s hoping.

It was getting rough enough to make me write an email, mostly saying “I’ll work with you whenever I need to, but if you want me to hate it, keep talking to me the way you’re talking to me.” Cooler heads (mine) prevailed and I emailed it to my boss instead. I felt better just expressing my issues with someone; it didn’t have to be the person I have issues with.

She welcomed my venting.

NaNoWriMo continues. I took a few days off last week because of work stress, but there was a write-in at Kaimuki Library this morning and I knocked out more than 3K words, catching me back up. It was a nice morning.

Friday 5. From here.

  1. Among people you know, who’s got the softest shoulder?
    Man, that’s a good question. I haven’t had need of a soft shoulder for quite some time, and when I needed it most, I didn’t really want to talk to anyone except R, and I couldn’t because she was the reason I needed it. The truth is that I’ve been something of an emotinal lone ranger since the R thing. I open up in these journals, and that might be about it. Oh, I just remembered that Jocelyn has been my only person to talk about Crush Girl with, and that’s been a good help. Maybe not such a Lone Ranger after all.
  2. Among people you know, who’s got the stoutest heart?
    My mom is super tough, and while that may not be as true today as it once was, she’s still the person I look to for toughness. Japanese moms — they raise us to be koi, and my mom has set a pretty good example even though the metaphor’s not supposed to extend to women.
  3. Among people you know, who’s got the most soul?
    There’s a way to answer this that kind of goes against the usual meaning, and since I’ve grown up in church culture I’m more likely to go that way. Actually, I think my pick answers it both ways. My eighth grade social studies teacher and my former landlord, Mrs. Wong.
  4. Among people you know, who’s got the biggest mouth?
    Although he’s not nearly as big a mouth as he used to be, I still have to go with Reid here. High school classmate and former roomie. It was never one of his more endearing traits, although combined with his more endearing traits it can really liven up a party. We planned our most recent high school reunion for a year but his emceeing is what really made it a success. It was actually nice to watch him come to life with the mic in his hand. A good reminder of what he’s like at his best.
  5. Among people you know, who’s got the toughest liver?
    Growing up, I watched my dad put down impressive amounts of beer, and I never saw him behave in a drunken manner. He was always aware of how much he’d had to drink, and sometimes I would ask him why he didn’t say ______ or do ______ when it was clear to me his expertise would have settled whatever debate or task could have used his input, and he would say quietly, “I’ve had a few beers. It’s not the best time to get involved in something like that.” So while this doesn’t exactly answer the question, it keeps with the question’s spirit. I saw some of my friends’ dads drunk or hungover, and I could see how embarrassing it was to my friends. I never had to go through that.

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Gummy one reason

I’m unusually stressed. I was going to text someone completely uninvolved just to get it out, but that person is ill and I’d rather not bother her at close to eleven in the evening.

I did text my friend Suzanne because I’m sure she’s up (and possibly out) but haven’t heard back from her. I figure that’s my sign. I’ll just deal with it myself, and with Ronald McDonald.

I don’t plan to write about any of it here, so I’m just hoping the act of writing something will help calm me down.

I know I shouldn’t stress-eat. I shouldn’t eat my feelings either and you should have seen my dietary behavior when I was in the depths of my Crush Girl misery. Helllllloooooo Cinnabon.

That was actually Suzanne’s fault too. When I texted her that I’d asked Crush Girl out and been rejected, she said, “Let’s to go Cinnabon!” We didn’t go that day, but you can believe I went later. And later. And. Later.

Cinnabon is amazingly effective at making you feel better. But only while you’re eating it. Then when it’s all over, you’re like, “Holy crap, not only am I still in this crappy situation but now I have eaten a CINNABON as well,” and you just feel lousier.

I don’t think I’ve written about Suzanne here. I met her when I was working for the engineering firm in Chinatown. Cornell grad (oh wait a minute, I have mentioned her but I haven’t said who she is) and a really supportive friend. She does a good job of sympathizing and then making you feel tougher.

Oh, I’ll write about this part of it. I sorta took care of the non-work-related stressful stuff. I really wanted to get some emails taken care of, so I got in my car to head to the boba cafe I’m so fond of. Pulled into the lot with two hours before closing, and realized I’d left my laptop in my living room.

Drove home. Grabbed laptop. Headed back to the cafe, but midway there I realized I didn’t know where my phone was. I called out “Hey Siri!” a few times but Siri didn’t respond. Noooooooo. Drove home and found my phone next to the spot where my laptop had been, with the flashlight still on. Urrrrrrggggggghhhhh. Got back to the cafe with a little more than an hour before closing.

At least I got the emails done. For a moment, though, I was having the worst evening in a very long time. Coulda been worse: I wasn’t sure what I’d done with my phone — I thought there was a fair chance I’d left it on the roof of my car (something I’ve never done, but there’s a good chance I will someday). But you know, most things are taken care of as best they can. Yet there’s still this hard, squiggly ball in the pit of my stomach.

Which I am now trying to feed with a Big Mac and fries. I don’t think it’s working.

I’m involved in a rather big project at work. The task itself is not daunting, even though possibly a hundred million dollars are at stake, and that’s not an exaggeration. I’m confident enough in my writing and in my coworkers’ talents (I’m the best writer in my company, but I don’t think I’m the third most creative or artistic person within fifteen feet of my desk), so I’m sure we’re going to knock this thing silly. We’re good.

So I’m not stressed about the task; I think I’m stressed about getting it going. I can’t really get rolling yet and argh. Also, I have a few other tasks I’d like to get moving on, but it’s the weekend and I need some rest. Not that I’m exactly getting that, what with all this thinking about it.

Oh, and sometime this week I’m going on a day trip to one of the neighbor islands. Because of the big project. Normally that would be awesome — I’d ask to stay overnight, too, since the others on this project are staying overnight. But I’m in frugal mode, remember (he asked, cramming another handful of McDonald’s fries into his maw)? I can’t really have the kind of fun work trip this could be. So it’s in and out, stay on task, and nobody gets hurt.

I wish I could text Crush Girl and just converse with her about all this, but I’m fairly sure she wouldn’t get back to me, possibly until Monday. We’re friendly but I don’t think we’re in the let’s-share-personal-problems-whenever stage of this friendship yet.

I was chatting with the CEO of my company about sleep, and he asked if I’ve ever tried melatonin. I hadn’t, and he recommended it. So a couple of weeks ago, while I was picking something up at Safeway, I thought I’d see what was available.

There were “regular strength” gummies. The bottle said to chew one or two 5mg gummies. Then there were “maximum strength” gummies. The bottle recommended one or two 10mg gummies. Hey, I’d had zero experience with melatonin, but if anyone’s sleep issues called for two 10mg “maximum strength” gummies, it was me, right?

I can’t say whether it worked or not because I was super tired that night anyway. I do know that I was very, very groggy the next morning, all the way to lunch. Yeah, that was bad.

Everyone I spoke to who’s taken it (and it’s a surprising number of people who’ve taken it) says he or she doesn’t take it every night, so I guess that’s my plan now. I’ll go through the whole bottle over time and see what happens.

I’ve eaten just one gummy a few times since, and I can’t tell if it’s working. I definitely don’t wake up groggy, and I don’t have an especially difficult time waking up (getting moving is a different story, but that’s related to my recent low work morale), but I can’t tell if it’s helping me get to sleep or if I’m just going to sleep.

What I would love is if, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can just close my eyes and drop back to sleep. That hasn’t been happening. It’s my own fault because I always look at my phone. I check Twitter to see if the White House has blown up the world yet, and then I usually check Instagram to see who’s viewed whatever silliness I put in my IG stories before bed. And then all that blue light goes to work on me and makes my brain think I’m up.

I wonder if this is the time to take a melatonin gummy. When I get up in the middle of the night? Might have to try it.

Oh Suzanne just texted me back. She was sympathetic but not very verbose about it. Then when I told her I’m stress-eating, she said she hopes I’m eating nacho cheese Doritos. I said, “Big Mac and fries — close!”

I feel a bit calmer, if still quite wound up. This might be a good night for a melatonin gummy.

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I saw a creature, naked, bestial

My favorite boba spot is closing in the middle of this week. I haven’t been coming here as much since we moved offices, even though the new office is actually closer. The spot is along the bus line home from the old office, and four blocks (or so) out of my way driving home from the new office.

However, they claim they’re reopening in the Liliha area, which is pretty much the neighborhood just over from mine — I drive through it every day on my to and from work. One thing that’s kept me from this spot most nights is that I’d rather have boba close to home after work, so this could be a nice development, assuming there’s parking. Get out of the office, drive home for dinner, then hop back a little way to get boba.

I asked the cutie working the register if she knows where the new spot is going to be, explaining that I live in the area. She said she wasn’t sure, and that if I keep an eye on their social media that’s where they’d announce it. I asked her if they didn’t know, or if they knew but just weren’t telling people. She laughed and said they weren’t telling people. Of course.

If they’re being honest and actually mean Liliha (and not, say, Nuuanu), I can think of a few places it could go, and one of them is right across the street from Grace’s house, which would also be kind of cool. I hope it’s open as late as this location (until 11 on weeknights and 12 on weekends) but knowing the area, it almost surely won’t be.

I’ve found that the best thing about the massive proliferation of boba spots in this town is that when you identify the best unique thing each spot offers, you think of each differently for different moods or occasions, and they don’t blur into each other. The spot I favor makes this ginger black milk tea that’s amazing. A couple of other spots in town make it but those places don’t even come close to this one.

For a time a couple of years ago, they were always out of it when I asked. We’re talking six or eight months. Disappointed, I once accused them of not intending to bring it back.

The cutie behind the counter (a different cutie) explained to me that they get their ginger from China and it takes a long time to get here!

The boba girls all knew it was my drink. One day when I came in and ordered something else, the boba girl said, “You know we have the ginger again?”

It was worth waiting for, I tell you. Here’s hoping the new spot will also be worth waiting for. I’m trying not to hold my breath, but I will be keeping an eye on the social media.

The concert scene really slowed down after the early spring. Suddenly, though, a whole bunch of bands I’d like to see have been announced. Black Flag is coming up in a few days, Hanson was last weekend, the Raconteurs (!) are playing the Republik next month, and Jason Isbell is playing the concert hall in January. I’m not as liquid nowadays as I was, so I’m actually having to be choosy, and right now I can’t make up my mind.

I already have tickets (plural) to see Patton Oswalt the weekend of my birthday. I bought the tickets when I still thought Crush Girl and I could be a thing, before the friendzoning, figuring if that never worked out it wouldn’t be difficult to find someone to come along. It’s a standup comedian — I could easily just bring a guy friend if I ran out of girl friends to ask.

One of my friends has been texting me to ask if I’m going to Black Flag — she only wants to go if someone she knows is going too. While I was trying to decide, they announced the Raconteurs so of course she’s going to that, probably with her husband, so now my participation isn’t needed.

I’m almost certainly not going to the Raconteurs because tickets are a little steeper than I’m willing to pay for that show. I saw Jack White when he did a show here a few years ago (the same friend was also at that show, on the other side of the arena) and it was pretty good. I just have to be pickier, and I’m leaning toward Jason Isbell.

Wednesday night I saw the Metallica movie, an edited film of the band’s performance with the San Francisco Symphony in September. It was really good, although a little self-indulgent, a vibe I didn’t pick up from the CD recording of the original show with the symphony twenty years ago. I’m happy to look the other way on the self-indulgence. The band is still, all these years later, the biggest-selling live band in America, so they deserve some indulgence.

I enjoyed it so much I came off the fence on the Slayer movie next month. Slayer’s supposedly calling it a day after the current tour, so what the heck; I might as well.

This past summer, something at work really, really got me angry and I didn’t tell anyone about it, but a friend in the office says everyone knew I was pissed, even if they didn’t know what I was pissed about. They couldn’t have, because it was all happening in email between me and a few people in my department.

I don’t know why, but I always thought I was good about keeping my feelings to myself when I was determined to. But this coworker said no, when I’m mad it “oozes out” of me, a description I really liked. I’m picturing what I must have looked like during my four-hour CPR training that day if everyone else in the room (including the instructor, according to my friend) could see anger oozing out of me. I’d like to have seen it.

I mention this because I’ve been really down about something at work this week, something everyone knows about. Although I’ve heard from a few people that they didn’t think it was handled well, nobody seems to be as personally upset as I am, which puzzles me a little. I swear I must be oozing out of every pore.

So I stayed in bed all morning and didn’t drag myself to the office until somewhere around 2. We’ve had terrible rain this week, which means I can’t go swimming unless I want to soak up all that runoff. Yick.

That threw off my Saturday morning game, but sleeping in was really what I needed. I didn’t get anything on my list done at the office today. I did spend a few hours thinking about this thing I’m upset about, and about possible ways of (a) dealing with it now and (b) defending myself against this kind of being upset the next time it happens.

Yeah. I actually had a little cry about it, because it seemed the solution is just to stick to my job, and stop directing my energies at trying to encourage camaraderie and goodwill. I don’t want to be specific about what I do toward trying to help others feel as good about working here as I feel about it, because honestly it’s embarrassing and if I spelled it out, you’d think what I really need is a girlfriend or a dog or something, on whom I could direct all this energy and time.

Or a classroom full of teenagers, if I’m being honest.

But as I made a specific action plan for reining in my energies so I could just do my freaking job, I realized that although I could do it, I would be even unhappier than I am now. I’d rather try and fail, and have my ideals smooshed down, than not try. The trying makes me happy. The failure is just an accepted part of the mission.

I am going to cut back on a few things, though, because one must, every so often. I’ve been doing some fill-in work at the reception desk, and I’ve already asked that they call me only when they’ve gone through the list first, at least until sometime next month. And we’re doing our annual Halloween thing at the end of the month. I’m going to sit this one out.

My bitter heart needs some downtime.

In the Desert
by Stephen Crane

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”

You and me, naked, bestial creature.

Okay here’s the Friday 5.

  1. What’s something (besides an electronic device) for which you spent extra money on a protective case?
    When I wrote this question I was thinking about this cool case I bought for my wireless mechanical keyboard. Someone online recommended this hard case meant to carry around a small Akai electronic keyboard, but it’s the perfect (perfect!) size for this computer keyboard too, and it only cost thirteen bucks. I can’t tell you how pleased I am with it. Alas, it doesn’t answer the question because it houses something electronic, which means I have to go way back to maybe last fall, when I bought a plastic pencil case for all the pens I use for my bullet journal. I’ve put the BuJo on hold for now, but I still carry that pencil box around with me, and I still take it out of my bag and put it on my desk when I come in to work every morning.
  2. What product’s packaging do you find excessive or inadequate?
    In general, I think Amazon’s packaging gets out of hand quite often. Specifically, I’m thinking of these individual snack packs of roasted peanuts I have delivered to the office every two weeks. The packs of peanuts come 24 to a box, and on Amazon you buy them in sets of two boxes. The two boxes come in one box, and that box is packed into an Amazon box, along with those inflatable plastic packing bubbles (not bubble-wrap, but that other stuff). It’s incredibly wasteful.
  3. What are your preferences for food storage containers?
    Okay, I really like those Corningware microwavable things with the rubber lids, but those are expensive(ish) and far too often they sit somewhere unwashed for so long they get gross. I’ve lost some good food containers this way. So for the past few years (since I got out of the classroom, come to think of it), I pack food in disposable Gladware and Ziploc containers. At work, I spoon stuff into a microwaveable bowl (I don’t like microwaving stuff in plastic) and while it’s heating up, I wash the containers in the sink. I can’t tell you how much happier this has made me. On the rare occasion where I don’t get to wash stuff before I bring it home, I usually take care of it at home, but if I forget to and it gets gross, it’s not as heartbreaking to toss it.
  4. This coming week, what would you like to be shielded from?
    It’s been warm and muggy as heck. I’d like to be shielded from humidity, please.
  5. What’s something interesting you’re keeping in a plastic storage box in your home?
    I have a million plastic storage boxes in my house, since the day I committed to never storing things in cardboard boxes. Maybe the most unexpected thing is a small plastic box with my cross-stitching stuff in it. 🙂