I'm sorry

So very sorry.

There are no words for this. And no words I use, will ever come out right. And no matter how many different ways I think of to say it, and no matter how many times I practice, nothing will sound right.

But I have to call, cause it's you. I want to call cause it's you. And I have to say it, to you.

I'll listen to you and we'll share stories and we'll cry a little...

And that's all that we can do.

It's nice to be missed...

Even if you don't know who's doing the missing.

I keep thinking my blog is one of those trees in the woods; when it falls no one hears. I didn't know it was still being read. So... thanks. And uh... I'll be back.

Burn, Burn, Burn!

It was a really nice, warm (HOT!) weekend. Friday, Chris and I spent the evening hanging out at Dolores Park with a bottle of wine and some beer. Saturday, I didn’t know what to do with myself because of the heat. Went shopping for some summer clothes, knowing full well that they would probably be worn three days max. But I was dying! That night, my friend Omer was visiting from Phoenix and celebrating his birthday “back home”- since he used to live in the Mission. Drinks and snacks at Parea, the wine bar, and then some dancing at Little Baobab. I didn’t stay long for the dancing since I still have stitches on my shoulder and Little Baobab can get thumping! ;o)

Sunday, we all went to Stern Grove. Now here’s where the decision was made: Chris and I are 90% sure we’re going to Burning Man this year. Wow. Finally, after 5 years here in SF, I’ve made up my mind to go. We’ve got enough wigs. Now we just need to get at least three more people and an RV. We’ve already half-recruited Sascha (sans wife). Yo Playa! Here we come!

"The Narcissist"

Hey there copycat! I just hope that poetry isn’t meant to be for me. I can’t think of one ex-boyfriend who would do that.

P.S.- Oh yeah, let me know if you need some pointers on your poetry.

Psycho Stalker

So I have a copycat blogger:
fleeting-muses.blogspot.com

And I know the guy...

Back to Normalcy

The Mothers are gone.
The Surgery is over.
Chris is back.
I want a drink.
Two.

"Going under the knife"

Did I mention my surgery is tomorrow?

Bye bye, Favorite Birth Mark.

The Mothers have descended!

Last Monday, my roommate Sabba's mother arrived from Ohio, for Sabba's cataract surgery. Friday, my mother arrived from Boston, for my surgery on Monday. There has been good food, chai galore, and lots of Urdu spoken around the house. We've hidden the booze, our miniskirts and "gypsy dresses", banished our boyfriends from our beds, tucked away their undershirts and boxers and socks. Out came the jahnamaaz (prayer rugs) and prayer books. The lotah (don't ask).

We took them for a tour of the city yesterday, and then had them make biryani and raita. I bought some gulab jamun (in a can) from the Indian store- where the owner swore it was some of the best ever. It was awful. Shannon made some Shannon's Fruit Surprise, which was surprisingly yummy- in fact, it was the best of all three desserts. We had sparkling pomegranate juice in our pretty new wine glasses from Ikea. And on top of all that, my mom met Chris for the first time. She approved.

She asked me a ton of questions about him before she met him, she sat and talked to him for a while after he arrived, and she's still giving me the third degree. She calls him what translates more or less into "a very sweet boy" or "good boy". I find it very amusing, but the point is she approves. This is the very first guy I have EVER introduced to her. This is a big deal. We even had brunch with him this morning. Later, she joked about feeling like the third wheel, between us... There's a lot of background stuff that's a bit complicated, but for now, she approves.

And while I just really want a drink and I can't wait to get into bed with Chris and laugh about anything and everything, for now, it is really nice to have my mom around. It's fun to sit around and reminisce about Pakistan and flip through pages of old albums. Plus Biryani and Karrhi trump cuddling. At least for a few days ;OP

A Different District

I have these bouts where I actually have girlfriends. Most of the times, though, it’s guys, the same old guys, the loyal, crazy, funny, lovely, horrible, my favorite- the boys. Somehow, ever since high school, I’ve just had guy friends. But anyway, that’s a whole different story (and district, perhaps) and a whole other pain for my poor boyfriend. He’s awesome though. And so patient about all my ex-boyfriends-turned-good/best-friends. We are currently in the process of finding me some girlfriends. (If you know of any….)

Anyway. So during my last round of escapades with "girlfriends" I had gone to District a few times. One of my favorite SF wine bars. Oh, I had flirted, lifted skirts, pouted my strawberry lips, tilted my glass of wine until I almost spilled (almost, but not quite)- you know, the usual. Anyway. I had ended up making out with a guy. Chris and I had just started seeing each other but we were so far from being in a relationship then that the thought was actually funny. I gave him my number, hoping he wouldn’t call, and he was kind enough to acquiesce to the request I never made.

This past Tuesday evening, back at another company-sponsored baseball game night (what’s up with that, anyway?), Chris and I were running behind schedule, as usual- well, rather, we were too busy with ourselves to be bothered with anyone else’s schedule. We stopped into the Irish Bank for a drink before heading to Pete’s Tavern where everyone had already left for the game, by the time we got there. I was having a glass of wine when a guy tried to pass by behind Chris, smiling and waving at me goofily. He looked familiar.

He was still watching me as he went down the aisle. I called out, "You look familiar, but I can’t place you!" He tried to mouth something, pointed somewhere in the air that seemed more like a point in the direction of a time rather than a place and suddenly-

"Oh my god!" I covered my mouth.

"What?" Chris asked.

"Oh, god!"

"What?"

Yes. It was the guy I had made out with at District.

And yes, I told Chris.

But it would have been fun to tell some girlfriends, too.

Of Red Dresses and Absinthe...

You know how I have managed to built a troop of old married admirers at work? You remember how I took one of them to HR and how my manager took the other one for me? The guy who was always trying to find me a red dress to wear at parties was the one my managers empathized with me on. Anyway, now that I’m no longer working at that office, I ran into him (the admirer, not the manager) at Absinthe. I said hello, and he waved a quick hello, too, in a rush to get out of the restaurant with his wife. Yesterday, however, he probably spent a few long minutes trying to search through his e-mail to find the goodbye e-mail I sent companywide, containing my e-mail address, and shot me an e-mail.

Hi!

It was great (and surprising) to see you Saturday at Absinthe. They say this is a small town—I guess they’re right. I’m really sorry I couldn’t stop and talk; the three ladies who preceded me out the door were in a hurry to vacate—my wife to go home, my daughter (the tall blonde) and her friend (the manager at Absinthe) to party… That was my Father’s Day dinner, because they’ll all be out of town next week.

So how are you, where are you working now and what brought you to Absinthe? (And did you have one [absinthe]? I don’t much like the taste of licorice, but that went down smooooooothly.) I guess—from your e-mail address—that you want to write. How is that going? My daughter is also an erstwhile author, and is currently interning at the Guardian to achieve that end. She reports a troubling reluctance to apply her backside to the writing chair, though… do you have that trouble?

Let me know what you’re up to—I missed your going-away party, so if you are working downtown maybe we could have a drink some afternoon…I’m out at Laguna Honda for the next few months, so I can get anywhere pretty easily.

Best,

D-----


And he’s the one who I didn’t mind so much. The other guy, the one I went to HR about? The one who had to “fight himself to keep his hands off me”, the one who, “couldn’t control himself around me”? He wrote to me the day I left. Really. What do men think they’re doing? Do they never get it???

Hello, Again!

It's been a while... sorry. I'm bad at staying in touch- apparently even with myself.

Well, not really, I take drugs for that.

Kidding.

There's been a lot going on, so I'll fill you in:

I started a new job. More money, more problems. Kidding, again. No problems yet, just waiting to get used to how things work around here. Just quite different from Stantec... I miss the people there. Hopefully, I'll start liking the ones here just as much. But for now, there's all the happy hours from everyone leaving Stantec. I get to see themm al pretty regularly.

I have skin cancer. And I'm having surgery next month to get rid of it, hopefully permanently. My mom's coming to visit from Boston for the first time. I can't wait to show her around. Maybe she'll see why I stay.

Poundage. Yuck. Constant battle with weight. Gotta lay off the chocolate and get my ass to the gym. Any suggestions, anyone? No, I guess there's no nice way to say, "Stop being so fucking lazy."

Besides that, things going great with Chris (The Le and the Le). We drove all the way through Shasta and Ashland up to Portland a couple of months ago. Loved Ashland, hated Portland. But then I started the new job and turns out we have an office in Portland, and people can't stop raving about the city. So now I feel like I have to give it another shot. I just have to wait for a good reason for them to send me up to Portland. Don't worry- I'll come up with one.

Also went to St. Louis, last month, to visit my cousin Asma and the new baby. Her hubby flew me in as his anniversary present to her. (Hah! I'm an anniversary present.) It was a really great time- not that there's necessarily a lot going on in St. Louis, but still.

So what else? Oh yes. I noticed a acquired about 500 hits on this blog during my absence. I hope you'll all stop by again. I'm back. I promise.

States

Yesterday, at the dermatologist’s to get the birthmark mutation evaluated, I ended up waiting for an hour and fifteen minutes before the doctor showed his face. He looked at the birthmark and said, “We should do a biopsy of that, just to make sure,” (which I already knew) and turned around to leave (the whole interaction lasting a total of- no exaggeration- 3 minutes). I was pissed.

Me: That’s it?

Doctor: Yeah… Then we’ll know.

Me: So that’s it? I mean, I waited for over an hour for you to tell me I need a biopsy. Even I knew that.

Doctor: Well… I gave you a prescription for the rough patch on your arm…

He looked at me sheepishly when the nurse walked in, examined my shoulder and said, "So hey doc, what do you think? It looks like blah blah blah…"

Well turns out, they couldn’t even do a biopsy because they didn’t know what lab they could send it to that my insurance would cover. Since the doctor was over an hour late seeing me, and it was now past 5, they couldn’t even call my insurance company to get the info. So now I have to return, make another appointment, because their time is so much more precious than mine.

I hate the state of medical insurance in America.

Hmm...

I have a birthmark on my left shoulder. People have thought it’s a tattoo, told me it looks like a little heart, and my mom forgot I even had it. But best of all, when I was younger and played with Barbies and other dolls, I used to think it was my "Made in Taiwan" sign. (I hadn’t yet discovered I could twist my neck around to look at it).

Recently, I’ve discovered it’s growing.

Oh no!

My whole family, as if they don’t haunt every other aspect of my life, have now descended on Facebook. My 20 or so cousins have been on there for a long time (and I had them on my limited profile, of course) but now my uncle and my mom have invaded my space. That’s like having them move to San Francisco! I love them, but from afar. Can’t they keep away from the few spots I am my truest self?

Since there is no way I can refuse my mom or my uncle from coming to my online party (at least not without hurting their feelings- my mom has a LOT of feelings- or making them even more curious and suspicious about what exactly I’m up to, here, 3000 miles away from them) I had to put them in a separate room: the Limited Profile room. Unfortunately, there were already some people in the Limited Profile room and I had to move the walls around a bit, in order to fit them all. And most importantly, I had to make sure there were no windows (since I had no control over their eyes) to the party taking place outside. Not that it would have mattered much, but you know, there is that bastard child I’m hiding from them. (This is absolutely not a reference to any specific individuals, living or dead. Any similarities are entirely delusional and a figment of your imagination).

(Translation: There are pictures they need not see- from my albums or those I’m tagged in. And really, I’d rather they not know that I put a leash around my boyfriend’s neck or that Valancy Jane and I met each other in bed one serendipitous morning or that I’m an undercover agent who was hired to surreptitiously dispose of someone during a clandestine operation but ended up becoming best friends with him, instead. They will take it all literally. Though the leash was, well… definitely a leash.)

The point, ladies and gentlemen, is that since I refuse to censor what I have to say, I’ll just deny admittance to those who don’t want to hear it. After all, the unlimited room has no boundaries. And a loudspeaker.

Now where’s that bottle of Absinthe?

MIA, Sabbatical, Break, Hiatus

Sorry guys, I’ve been a bit bored of blogging lately.
There’s been a lot going on, and nothing going on.
I just don’t feel compelled to describe any of it…
But I promise to return, soon!

Friends & Lovers

I’ve always been the girl who insists that just because I have a boyfriend, doesn’t mean I don’t have time for my friends. When D moved out to San Francisco, back in 2004, I remember having a conversation with Sascha the night before he arrived. We went on a long walk and I promised that just because my boyfriend was no longer going to be just a long-distance-boyfriend, I wasn’t suddenly going to disappear from Sascha’s life. And though it was a bit complicated in the beginning, since D was just getting to know Sascha, eventually it all worked out fine. Sure, we didn’t see each other as often, but we still made time. Then, of course, Sascha got girlfriends :O) and we didn’t see him as often, either.

Anyway, the other day, I was talking to my friend Rohna and said I hadn’t seen her in a while. Her response: “Well, that’s cause you’ve got a boyfriend.” I was adamant that wasn’t true. Sure I spent a whole lot of time with Chris, but I hung out with her and Sara, too. Had she seen Sara more than she had seen me? No, she replied, but she had at least talked to Sara over the weekend. But so had I. Sara called me and we spoke for a while. And Chris was sick and in bed, sleeping, most of Saturday, so it’s not that I didn’t have time to call my friends. I just don’t usually call people. I’m not a big phone person and the only times I really make long phone calls, is to friends who I never see, or my family.

Initially, I thought Rohna was accusing me of not spending more time with her and Sara, but then I realized she was explaining (both to me and herself) that she understood. That it was only natural. When I was single, I had tons more time to hang out with my friends, but now I want to spend time with Chris, too, and that takes away from the time I have for my friends. In fact, I want to spend more time with him than with my girlfriends. It makes sense. So maybe it’s not such a bad thing, and I shouldn’t feel the need to defend myself.

At least, until they start complaining…

The Stuff that Nightmares Are Made of- Part Deux

Aah… the joys of a wonderful nightmare. Or two.

Sunday night/Monday morning, I woke up horrified from the memory of two nightmares I had. I think they were two separate ones, but they could have been rolled into one, especially since I can’t seem to remember any details regarding one of them. I woke up rotating the words, New York Metropolitan Opera in various different orders. All I recall of that one is everyone seated, some conversation where someone mentioned some chick was fat (surprise, surprise), and another guy was defending her. Then something happened and there was a mad dash with everyone fleeing the theatre at once. The second dream- or possibly an extension of the same one- was about FedEx trucks, that in my head I was calling flatbeds but were actually more like bulldozers. One by one, these trucks were pulverizing cars and other FedEx flatbeds/bulldozers. It was all very similar to juicing apples in a juicer, and very, very bloody (unlike juicing apples) (hopefully). It kept happening over and over and over. And I was standing in the garage where it was happening, watching it all. The last pulverization was by a couple, the guy driving and the girl apologizing, but also joking about what happened.

Strange. (I wonder what Dr. Joey would make of that.)

Needless to say, I could not fall back asleep after that.

Oh yeah…

...Doug came over to me at the office on Friday to tell me that he just gave his two-week notice. We talked for a few minutes, hugged, promised to make an effort to be friends, and made some tentative plans to talk over drinks, soon. But considering he used to think I was an alcoholic (because I got sick one time and he had to take care of me) (very conveniently forgetting how I had to take care of him when he got sick, right in the beginning of when we started seeing each other), I think we’ll change that to “a” drink or coffee. Anyway. Then I told him about the Old-Married-Pervert who told HR that when Doug and I were dating, we used to look at him and laugh, because we thought he was jealous of us. (Talk about delusional. And paranoid.) We had a good laugh, another hug, and then suddenly all the weirdness lifted and disappeared and we were already on our way to becoming friends. Today we had another conversation, which started with me laughing at how his ex-girlfriend, who he broke up with 3 years ago, who also happens to be my supervisor, still refuses to look at him and promptly walks out of any room when he enters. This, because I was standing in the kitchen, talking to her when he walked in.

Anyway. Happy Hour at Varnish next Friday (not this week, but the next).

"Seasick Yet Still Docked" - Morissey

Chris came back from Thailand/Burma on Tuesday and I think he’s slept more than he’s been awake :O) but during his waking hours we’ve played Scrabble, talked, walked, cooked, went to Santana Row, played with his sister’s dogs, did crossword puzzles, etc. We saw There Will Be Blood on Friday which was CRAZY and awesome, but the best thing about it? We finally managed to watch a movie at the theatre for the first time since we met, almost 5 months ago. Anyway, we both spent the weekend being sick (and a bit disoriented- I think there’s something wrong with my ear…) but the blue, sunny skies today help to make things all better.

Nothing much planned for this week, though a friend gave me a buddy pass to his gym which expires on Thursday, so I will probably head there- as soon as I can move without feeling seasick. Got to catch up with friends and roommates, who I’ve been not-exactly-ignoring-but-just-been-too-busy-to-hang-out-with.

Besides that, I’m still trudging through Love in the Time of Cholera, which I insist on finishing. Maybe this week…

Disappear Here- Part Deux

Long conversation with D, my good friend (and ex-boyfriend) in Boston. Some background: D and I lived together for about 1 1/2 years. He moved out here to San Francisco for me, but a year later, decided he wanted to move back to Boston because he missed his family and friends. I moved out to Boston for a summer, then we tried the long distance thing, but it didn't work out.

Anyways. We spoke for a bit yesterday, but then got cut off because he was running late for a date, so he called back tonight. We talked about the usual, friends, love lives, romantic advice, etc. Then somehow we started talking about my plans for moving back to the east coast. He says it seems I'm really happy here, that I've found a place I really fit in. When he asked me for reasons why I want to move back, I guess none sounded convincing. I thought I wanted to move to New York. I'm pretty sure I still do, but he says that moving back for family is a surefire way to resent them- he did, at least initially. And friends, well they have their own lives- you never seem to be able to pick up where you left off.

The point is, he says if I wanted to move back, I would have already. Which in a way, is true. When I went to visit my family in Boston last time, I interviewed for jobs, and while there were some promising possibilities, I didn't choose to pursue them. I do remember coming home and wondering if I was really done with San Francisco. Was I ready, am I ready, to leave? Have I had enough of this crazy, wacky city?

I'm not sure.

But I never really planned to move to New York because I have friends there. That was an added bonus. I like the challenge of moving to a new city and carving myself a niche. I'm not really the pick-up-where-we-left-off kind of person. I don't move places nostalgic for an elusive past that will never be relived. I don't go back, I won't go back, in a running back home kind of way. No. I want to meet new people. Have new experiences. Start all over in a new place. Another great city.

Or do I really? Should I just disappear here?