The Not-So-Secret Diary of a Bad Luck Girl

I realize I need it.  I wish I didn’t, but I do.

I had pitched a couple of ideas to magazine, but hadn’t heard anything.  All week I had a vaguely blah feeling, which I attributed to not knowing what I wanted to write about next.  But in the back of my mind, I knew I was feeling rejected.

It’s something I have to get used to, and in a way, I am.  I feel the sting for a few moments, then move on.

Of course it’s easier to move on once you get an acceptance of a new idea.  Yay!

At least it’s incentive to keep thinking of new ideas, to keep trying.  MB had suggested when I follow up to follow up with a new idea or two as well.  So smart!

Yesterday I worked hard on my latest post for the Nervous Breakdown, which is about the 100th episode of Ghost Hunters.  I know I won’t get too many comments – it’s a long essay about a niche topic – but still I want them!  I want lots of comments!  I freely admit it.

In other news, I looked at my NaNoWriMo book from 2006 for the first time.  Some parts aren’t bad, but I’m not sure what to do with it.  Right now I just want to read it, and see if it’s salvageable at all.  *Maybe* I’ll post it to my writing site, and see what you guys think.

The book isn’t about me, at least not overtly, but is about the brutal murder of an older couple, set in the midwest.  The couple’s son, who to everyone seems “off,” is the main suspect, and is basically coerced into confessing.  The novel deals with unraveling the mystery of if he really did it or not, and if not, who the real killer, or killers, might be.

I got the idea when I heard some story on NPR about coerced confessions and implanted memories.  Some poor guy got coerced into confessing to the murder of his parents, and even started to “remember” details because he’d heard them so many times from the police officers.

MB and I spent the weekend working on our projects and hanging out in Union Square.  People watching was fun. One guy kept taking off and putting on his shoes and socks. Some Asian chick fell as she tried to go down the steps in her four-inch stilettos (idiot) so that the people who were photographing her (why, I don’t know – was she a model? paying for headshots?) had to run off and buy her a pair of flats because she couldn’t walk in her heels anymore.

This couple had the most adorable miniature terrier named Stella. How do I know the dog’s name? Because they kept calling it as they tried to photograph the dog. Of course Stella was more interested in stalking pigeons.

There was the cutest little Asian girl in sparkly pink jacket and sparkling pink ballet flats. I would have KILLED for shoes like that at her age!

The highlight though was this group of Kim Kardashian-lookalikes who took pictures with these random gay guys like the guys were just another tourist sight. Look, kids, it’s two gay guys again!

So not motivated to go the gym today. Will probably do an easy workout.

Took a break from the grind yesterday by hanging out with a blogging pal.

We arranged to meet in the Mission for lunch.  Normally I’d have taken a cab, but when ES was here, she got me to “practice” taking public transportation and so now I feel more confident.

I needed to get to a BART station, the closest of which is Civic Center.  But I wanted to avoid that area.  I should have just walked to Powell, but like a dummy I walked all the way down Van Ness, thinking I’d hit Market.  I would have eventually, but way out of my way.

At the Powell BART station, I bit the bullet and put $20 on a card (which seems to be the only option when using your debit or credit card – have I mentioned SF public transit sucks?).  As I was finishing, a homeless guy appeared out of nowhere and asked me for money.

Hello, you don’t do that to a woman by herself with her purse open!  You spring up on her out of nowhere, of course she’s going to dart away like a quarterback with the ball and you’re a 300 pound line backer.  As I walked quickly away, he said, “You’re fast!”  That’s right, mofo, get away from me.

As I was riding the BART, I realized that I could take it out to Richmond the next time I get a hankering for good Chinese food.  A whole new world! Don’t you DARE close your eyes.

My friend and I met up on the 24th and Mission platform, and walked to Papalote Mexican Grill.  Apparently it was on Bobby Flay’s cooking show, and I suspect the prices have been jacked up.  The burrito, while tasty, was about $8, which is steep for the Mission, and my friend said her small bottle of water was $2.50.  That’s movie theater prices!

I got the chili verde burrito with pork and it hit the spot.  I was glad there didn’t seem to be any rice.  Too much rice in a burrito fills me up.

Afterward, we walked down 24th Street, stopping at Dynamo Donuts.  Unfortunately they were out of bacon donuts (yes, donuts with BACON), so I made do with spicy chocolate and lemon pistachio.  I had the chocolate one this morning, and I have to say it wasn’t that great.  I expected it to be much richer.  Maybe the lemon one will be better.

Eventually we made our way to Dolores Park, which I’d never been to before.  It was such a gorgeous day just to sit and hang out.  At one point, another homeless guy approached us and offered to sell us – what? a homemade bong?  I wasn’t sure as I had turned away, but apparently that’s what he said.  For the rest of our time there, he wandered around, bothering people.

It was great to get out and get some sun.  In fact, I think I’m both a little sun- and windburned.  Should really invest in a hat.

While doing some research on literary agents, I found this helpful list of “bad” agents, and one of them, Mark Sullivan Associates, was a place I briefly worked for in college! He’s on the list because, like other “thumbs down” agents, he charged up front fees. An agent really shouldn’t charge authors anything.

His reasoning, according to a discussion board, for charging fees is:

The book must be read carefully, and a written evaluation proving the agency’s attention and effort should accompany a contract or a rejection, in either case. We provide this.

You know who provided the written evaluation? Students like me.

He mostly hired graduate students, but he had no problem employing me, a mere sophomore. It was pretty thankless work. I’d have to read most of these giant manuscripts, and type up a page’s worth of evaluation. Needless to say, I didn’t do it for very long.

I remember the guy being kind of a jerk. He was one of those arrogant nerds, a know-it-all and full of himself. He had a Japanese girlfriend (from Japan) who I guess didn’t know any better.

So funny to see him on a worst agents list.

Some of my already know that I published a couple of pieces recently, “I Don’t Want to Get Married Again” at The Frisky, and “How Karaoke Saved My Parents’ Marriage” at The Nervous Breakdown.  If you didn’t know, hey look, I published two pieces!

I’m surprised my Frisky article got so many comments.  They’re a mix of, “Great article!” “I respect the author’s point of view,” debating about marriage, and “The author is a stupid idiot who shouldn’t procreate.”  I took liberties with that last one.

I knew that writing about my personal life would garner some haters, and that I’d have to be thick-skinned about it.  But it was still a punch in the gut to be told that because I didn’t want to make my relationship public and legal, that I shouldn’t have kids.  I mean, of course I shouldn’t care what people think, especially strangers on the internet, but I can’t help but have that visceral reaction.

I wasn’t sure if I should respond directly to the commenter on my article, or passive aggressively here.  Well, I’m doing it here because it’s my party and I can cry if I want to.

She begins:

Marriage does change relationships.  I think it’s more for the better.  Commitment helps you grow up and little and work things out.  The rest of the world gives the two of you a little more support.

She is implying that only with marriage will I have real commitment, although in my piece I describe how MB and I have already been through thick and thin – his unemployment, our move to SF – and other issues that are too personal and not for public consumption (yes, I actually have limits, can you believe it?)

If you’re planning on staying together forever, I think you might as well admit it and get married.  If you don’t like having the law involved, have a ceremony without doing the legal part.

So marriage is the only way to “admit” you’re staying together forever?  How about actually saying to each other, “I want to be with you for a very long time, I want to make a life and family with you.”  Just because we don’t say it in church or courthouse doesn’t make it any less valid.  And who says marriage is forever?  According to statistics from 2005, almost 40% of marriages end in divorce.

Kids change everything, though.  Having kids together means that you will always be tied to each other, like it or not.

No shit, really?  That’s the whole reason I got divorced (who wants to stay married to someone who’d forever be tied to his mistress through their kid? not Elizabeth Edwards and not me).  I think the commenter seems to think I don’t want to get married because I’d like to have the liberty to leave at any time when actually what I’m saying is I don’t need marriage to stay for a very long time.

Whatever you didn’t like about being tied down with a marriage and community expectations – kids will tie you down and bring in the community.  You will not be able to break up without the law/the state getting involved.  You will not be free.  The children will come first, not you or your partner or your love.

She doesn’t seem to get that it’s not the “tying down” part of marriage I don’t like, but the artifice of it.  I love being tied down to MB!  And I’m not sure how she’s able to equate our decision not to get married with not realizing that once we have children, everything will change, including our priorities.  Somehow we’re selfish for not wanting to get married, as though marriage is something we must go through because of other people’s needs (which actually to me, it is).  How is that the same as putting ourselves and relationship before our kids?

And actually: what’s wrong with putting your relationship first?  If Mom and Dad don’t get along, the children will surely suffer.  There’s a difference between that and resenting children for changing a relationship.

I never want to be in a place where I make snide comments about MB to my kid.  My dad always chastised me and my brother for laughing at our mom’s broken English.  My mother would yell at us to respect our father.  I’d say in a way that’s putting your spouse first.

Having children puts pressure on you to stay together forever way more than marriage does.

Um, I think I stated this in my essay.  What was it?  Oh yes: “A marriage might not last, but children were forever.”  I guess we’re in agreement there!

If you think your relationship can’t handle marriage, don’t even think about having kids.

Now we’re disagreeing.  The commenter seems to think the only true commitment is marriage.  If we don’t want to get married, then we’re not truly committed.  Therefore we shouldn’t have kids.

My argument is that we don’t need marriage.  For other people, it’s great, but for us it’s not necessary to know that we’re partners in life and committed to each other.  That he’s part of my family, that we ourselves are a family.

Some of the other commenters astutely pointed out that I at least partly don’t want to get married again because MB doesn’t.  This is indeed true.  But if my feeling about marriage is, “Enh, I could take it or leave it,” then I probably shouldn’t be dabbling in it.  Marriage is something that you should really want, with all of your heart, not just half-heartedly like me.

And if I had to choose between having a life with MB and being married, hell, I’d pick the former.  Pushing for marriage would be making an issue out of nothing.  Our life is pretty freaking awesome – I’m not going to sit around and be unhappy about something we don’t have when what we do have is so incredible.  Why would I push for something that I don’t really care that much about?  That would probably push MB away, or at least make him resentful, which would lead to, hello, an unhappy marriage.

In other writing news, now that my memoir is done, I have to figure out my next big project.  A sequel?  A novel?  Guess I won’t know till I try.

My last memoir post is up!

It was up earlier this week, but I just now replaced the last section with a revised version.

It’s interesting to read it knowing what does come after the “end” of my memoir.  While I was writing it, I didn’t know, and felt so frustrated.  It’s selfish but I thought, Where’s my reward for bringing my cousin and her American husband together?  For being the catalyst that led to Mia’s existence?

Of course things happen to us not as reward or punishment.  Sometimes things just happen.

In my memoir I write about faith.  Joe and his family had faith in fortune tellers and the idea of luck.  When I came along, not believing that “good thoughts” or lack thereof, lead to someone else’s good or bad fortune, their superstitious world began to fall apart.  If I didn’t believe in that stuff, then I must be bad luck.  Everything bad that happened must be my fault.

I had faith that my relationship with Joe would work out somehow, despite all the obstacles, the same way I believed I’d always be a writer, even if I wasn’t a huge success.

After my divorce, I didn’t fully believe I’d find someone new.  I doubted it a lot and had to resign myself to the fact that I might not.  So why did I keep trying?  Why, after each bad date and break up, did I keep putting myself out there?

Maybe part of it was because I’m a writer.  I’ve been putting myself out there and getting rejected for years.  After the sting of rejection wears off, I forget about it and simply try again.  Maybe I’m a bit skittish, having been burned in the past.  But I keep going.

I think part of it, quite frankly, was that I’d get bored.  Dating was almost like a hobby, a distraction.  Each time I tried, I didn’t think, I’m going to find the love of my life, but in baby steps: let’s see who contacts me.  Let’s see if I go out on a date.  A second date, a third.

It was almost like, well, I’m only publishing dinky articles for $15 a pop, but at least I’m trying.  Sure, I’m having dinner with some old guy, but at least I’m giving it a whirl.  At the same time, I’m looking for something better.

To me, having faith is rather like not thinking about something too much.  Not thinking, If I do, I’ll fail, or If I do, I’ll succeed.  It’s just doing with no expectations, with focusing only on the process.

Of course it’s impossible, at least for me, not to have expectations at all.  Disappointment is inevitable, but success is possible too, and if you don’t even try, you’ll never reach either point.

My friend ES visited me these past few days, and we had a great time exploring the city, trying new foods, and just hanging out (mostly watching the Olympics).

Thursday

We met up at the Asian Art Museum.  We both wanted to see the Shanghai exhibit.  It was interesting to see how dramatically the city’s changed over the course of time.  I find the Communist propaganda posters fascinating, and could see a whole exhibit just on that.  Outside the exhibit were some cool sculptures.

Friday

The next day we tried to eat brunch at Elite Cafe, but it’s only open for brunch on the weekends.  Damn!  We made do with The Grove, which was just okay.  Their breakfasts are better than their sandwich fare, but I was starving so whatever.

Next stop was La Boulange down the street.  My brother has been recommending the place to me forever, and ES has been there before.  They have beautiful pastries.

I got one chocolate and one almond croissant.  I was disappointed with the chocolate, but the almond one was delicious!  (I didn’t eat them all in one sitting, by the way)

Then we walked around Japantown, which was very apropos since it was the same time of year – around the strawberry-loving Japanese holiday of Girls’ Day – that we were in Tokyo.

I insisted at first stopping at the New People Cafe for some delicious Blue Bottle coffee.  I still say their mocha is the best in town, better even than Philz.

We spent some time in the New People store as well since neither of us had ever been.  Basically, it’s fun – and expensive – Japanese toys and collectors’ items.

We spent some time in the different stores, then had dinner at Suzu Noodle House.  For some reason, I thought it was new, but it’s clearly not, given the date of the linked review.  There was a long wait, and one of the women waiting told us it was “so good,” so we had high hopes.  My assessment?  Average.

It was definitely good, and at $8.95 for a shio ramen, pretty reasonably priced, but the noodles don’t hold a candle to the ones we had in Tokyo years ago.

Saturday

It was a beautiful day so we headed out to the Mission District.  We both have been, but we wanted to take our time and photograph the many murals. . .

. . .and try some food.

That night we saw Wicked.  It was very good, very entertaining.  But the musical really takes liberties with the book.  I absolutely loved the book.  I didn’t really hate the changes – they were well-suited for a popular, family-oriented show – but it made the story very different.

Sunday

An awful rainy day.  We tried taking the bus back out to Fillmore, but after ten minutes in the rain, it didn’t show so we hopped a cab, which was totally worth the delicious brunch at the Elite Cafe.

I usually get the Alabama Scramble (which ES enjoyed), but this time tried the corned beef hash.  It was really delicious.

The Elite seems to be another place that does really good breakfast and so so lunch entrees.

Since it was such a rainy day, we thought a museum would be a good idea, the California Academy of Sciences, which neither of us had been to before.

It was great fun, especially the aquarium and indoor rainforest, where butterflies kept landing on people.

You can’t tell but this butterfly had gorgeous bright blue wings, and I think was attracted to people wearing blue.  Before landing on this girl, it had alighted on the hand of a boy in a blue T-shirt.

After a while though, the dive bombing butterflies made me paranoid so I had to leave.

Another highlight was the planetarium, which brought back memories of class trips to the American Museum of Natural History in New York, but also gave me motion sickness (so I’m a wuss).

Afterward we went out to the Ferry Building, my first time.  Unfortunately almost everything was closed, but it was nice to walk around.

We ate at Slanted Door, a chi chi Vietnamese place.  It was just okay, to tell the truth.  I liked my spring roll appetizer, and the green papaya salad was AMAZING, but our entrees were average.  Mine, the stir fried chicken, had little bones or date pits scattered throughout.  It’s not fun to be chewing then suddenly bite on something hard.

We rode the F line out to Fisherman’s Wharf.  There was a guy who didn’t have change for a $20 so a bunch of us – all New Yorkers, coincidentally, including the guy – banded together to give him change.

Monday

ES had the great idea of renting a car and exploring the further parts of the city.  First stop: Richmond, home of delicious dim sum and other Chinese eats.  I was able to finally get in my dumplings for the New Year.

Next stop was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and taking in the view.

It was really breath taking.  I also loved watching the animals, like the pelicans that kept circling overhead, the deer we saw grazing (and pooping), and other various birds.  This blue bird – or jay? – let us take its picture.

You can see the Golden Gate Bridge in the background.

On our way back to dropping off the car, we drove to Haight-Ashbury, and did a quick walk.  For dinner we went to Pesce on Polk Street.  It’s tapas style Italian and was pretty good.  We shared a vegetable risotto – good though needed salt – a braised duck with pappardelle, some kind of pork with gnocchi, and brussel sprouts.  Everything was tasty.

ES also got this oyster vodka shooter.  She said it was delicious.  I took her word for it.

Tuesday

MB was coming home from a conference at around noon so I begged off for a few hours while ES went exploring on her own.  Later we caught up at the Contemporary Jewish Museum, which had interesting exhibits on Mein Kampf and about a scribe writing the Torah.

It was another terribly rainy day, but we made it onto a bus that would take us to our appointments at the Imperial Day Spa, a traditional Korean-style spa and sauna.  It was a very unique experience.  You strip down buck naked, soak in a tub and/or do a sauna, then get scrubbed within an inch of your life by one of several Chinese ladies in matching burgundy bra and panties.

It sounds sexy, but it’s so not.  These ladies are strong and work hard.  Oh, and you don’t have your own private room complete with soothing music like at some ritzy place – you’re in a communal room with other naked women.  You lie on a plastic mat and have buckets of hot water thrown on you (which actually feels amazing).

I may be able to get an article out of this experience, in addition to my silky smooth skin.  Either way, it was a fun, and weirdly bonding, activity to cap off ES’s stay.

Now back to the grind for everyone!

See all my photos taken during ES’s visit.

Next memoir post is up, and it’s almost the last one!  Next week will be the very last.  After that I need to figure out what to do with my writing site.

When I was married, I enjoyed watching Sex and the City.  From the comfort of my relationship, I was amused by the women’s dealings with trying to find the right guy.  Thank God I don’t have to go through that, I thought in my suburban apartment.  But when I became single, I found the show depressing.

I quickly learned that dating was not fun.  The most fun part was writing my online ad, and maybe that period of time before anyone contacted me, when there was still all this potential.  Then it turned into why isn’t anyone contacting me?  Or, why aren’t the guys I want contacting me?  Okay, I’ll contact them.  The usual response?  Crickets.

My very first post-divorce date was the summer of 2005.  He was British and loved opera.  We were supposed to meet for drinks at six, and the awful manager I had at the time liked to schedule 5:30 meetings.  He scheduled one on the night of my date.

“I can’t stay,” I told my co-workers.  “I have to leave.”  I felt like if I didn’t have this first post-divorce date, I might never have any.  Luckily my co-workers were nice enough to cover for me.

The date was so so.  I was incredibly nervous.  We met at Pipa, and I was the only one drinking.  Who agrees to meet for drinks and then doesn’t drink?

He was pretty nice, and I went out with him twice more.  But by the third date, I knew he wasn’t for me.  I just wasn’t attracted to him.  He was barely taller than I was, had a paunchy face, a paunchy belly, and arms that jiggled like an old lady’s.  I mean, my triceps were more toned.

I liked the Acupuncturist much more.  I met him through speed dating.  It was my friend’s idea, and for some reason I had to pose as her sister’s friend.  It was her sister and this friend who had the membership; otherwise it’d have cost us some fee (probably not a lot).

The first guy I talked to worked for a competing pharmaceutical company.  That was weird.  But he was very nice with lovely manners, and attractive despite his “Gordon Gekko hairstyle,” as my friend put it.  I can’t really remember who else I talked to; the guys start to merge together with the one other speed dating event I attended.

When I talked to the Acupuncturist, no sparks flew.  In fact I thought he was gay, as did my friend.  But then when we shifted partners, and my new guy was a complete weirdo who said nothing even after the bell rang, the Acupuncturist caught my eye and laughed, and I thought, Wow, he’s cute!

We dated for about two months, and it was great fun at first.  On our first official date, outside of speed dating, we ended up making out in a bar, something I’d never done before.  He was an excellent kisser.  But even by the second date, I sensed some weirdness about him.  He already seemed distant and too in himself (probably a sign of depression).

One Sunday I didn’t have anything to do, so I called him to see if he wanted to hang out.  “Oh, um, maybe,” he said.  “What would we do?”

“I dunno,” I said.  “It doesn’t matter.”  I began to regret my calling him.  “You can say no, you know.  It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, no.  It’s okay.  We can hang out.  If you want.”

Gee, thanks.

We had a very nice time, but I still felt weird.  Another time I invited him to a friend’s show, and again he had a strange response: “Where is it?”

I wasn’t sure.  Midtown maybe?

He hemmed and hawed, and said he’d think about it.

Later he called and said he felt bad about his response, that he should have said yes right away.

“Only if you want to go,” I told him.  I had been disappointed that he seemed to not want to, but that was that.  Now he was saying yes because he felt guilty?

“And about dim sum on Saturday,” he said.  “You can invite your friends if you want.”

“Why would I want to do that?” I asked.  Dim sum was a date – why would I want my friends there?  I did not get this guy at all.

His birthday came up around this time, and I got him a nice gift.  He told me all about the birthday party he was having, and yet didn’t invite me.  Then I never heard from him again.

Yeah, dating really sucked.

When I watched TV, I didn’t really want to be reminded of my own life.  That was why I turned away from SATC and became obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Gilmore Girls.  I’ll take ass kicking slayer and living in Stars Hollow over dating any day.

Now that I’ve handed in the essays for the contests I wanted to enter, I have lots of paperwork to take care of.

First off, my writer’s contract.  There’s so much to fill out!  But it gives me assurance that I’ll most likely get paid and that I’m one of their official “vendors.”

The guy who did my taxes suggested I start collecting my writing expenses so I could write them off next year.  I’ll have to go back and see if I had anything from this year.  Then I may start keep a spreadsheet.  (Yay, spreadsheets!)

Also, I got a NY jury duty summons.  I had gotten one back in August but postponed it till February.  I was worried that I’d have to actually fly back to New York, but I called the place and they said I just had to send them evidence that I do indeed live in SF now.  I wrote an anal little cover letter and need to make copies of stuff to send.

I also need to hit the gym and go to yoga.

* * *

Had a nice weekend.  My brother was in town so we got to see him a couple of times.  Otherwise I worked like crazy on my essays and MB played his new guitar all day long.

On Sunday, we were supposed to get dumplings, but didn’t feel like schlepping out to Richmond.  It was such a beautiful day, we decided to walk to Fisherman’s Wharf instead.  It was pretty crowded, but tolerable.

We wanted to eat at that seafood restaurant we tried when we first moved here, but they had an hour and 45 minute wait.  At first we thought forget it, but then decided to put our names down.  We took a leisurely walk out to the water, down this long pier.  The sun was setting, which was beautiful.

“Do you want to take a picture?” MB asked me.

I shook my head.  I find that with sunsets, my photos never live up to the real thing. I prefer to just enjoy it in the moment.

We returned to the restaurant a little early, but our table was already available.  It was such a lovely unplanned Valentine’s Day.  I noticed other couples around the restaurant, all dressed up and formal.  You knew they had been planning this evening for a while (like the young dressed up couple in front of In ‘N Out Burger: “I gave my girl a rose and took her to In ‘N Out!”).

To me, the most highly anticipated events never live up to expectations.  Weddings, anniversaries, and Valentine’s Day.  Why wait till a specific day to celebrate?  Why not just act like that every day?

Anyway, we both got the prix fixe dinner: soup or salad, a fish entree, and dessert.  At $30 it was a little overpriced, but the food was good and the service excellent.  I got the salmon poached in olive oil with rosemary and garlic.

Now I’m hungry.

Yesterday MB had to work so I was on my own.  YP and I had our long-distance photo expedition – the theme: good luck symbols of Chinese New Year – so I hoofed it to Chinatown and took some pics.  I ran into lion dancers and their noisy firecrackers, “bai nian-ing” at businesses.

Here’s the whole CNY set.

All righty, off to the gym!