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

This week I finally finished my work project.  The deadline to the publisher was Wednesday 9/1, and I got manuscripts to my boss Sunday night.  Yesterday we did a bit more work cleaning up, but I think that should be it, unless the publisher comes back with changes.

I’m excited to get back in the swing of things in terms of my own writing, but it’s a bit scary too.  My work project was very straight-forward.  My own writing less so.  But I have some pitches and submissions planned.  I just have to do them.  Also, the Nervous Breakdown!  I didn’t post at all last month, and I have tons of reading to catch up on there, The Frisky, and elsewhere on the interwebs.

This weekend MB and I don’t have any plans.  We’ll just hang around the thankfully quiet city, work on our projects, take walks, see movies.  After a week of chilly weather, we’re hot again, though not as hot as last time.  I think it’s supposed to cool right back down tomorrow.

My folks are in L.A. now, helping out with my grandmother.  MB and I fly out there late next week, and the week after off to Seattle!  After that I probably won’t want to travel for some time.

Wow, this is a really boring blog post.  Okay, two things:

1) If you’re my Facebook friend, you know about the disturbance in our building last week.  Because my blog is public, I can’t go into too many details, but let’s just say it was Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? meets Cops at three in the morning.  It was very strange and kind of scary.  This same individual this week was heard hammering and drilling at again in the middle of the night.

2) This week I learned that a teacher from my high school died.  Not just died: killed himself.  Threw himself in front of a train.

I had one class with this teacher, and while he didn’t change my life like he did other students, it’s still incredibly sad and disturbing.  He was very active in the school – a dynamic teacher, soccer coach, adviser to various clubs.

He was in his early 50s, which means he was YOUNGER THAN I AM NOW when he taught our class.  That just blows my mind.

It’s especially strange because my class just had its 20 year reunion (which I obviously did not attend), though I was lucky enough to hear all the dirt, including that this teacher was still teaching at the school.

And then just a few weeks later, the terrible news.

3) I know I said “two,” but I have to end a nicer note.  I went bowling yesterday with my co-workers.  Wow, I suck!  I’m also out of practice.  But I did make a couple of strikes, including during a time they were giving away T-shirts.  So I won a T-shirt!  That’s bright purple.  And which I’ll never wear.

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Working with words all day, of course I have to say more than just “hodgepodge.”

Earlier this week, San Francisco had a mini heat wave. Three days of temps in the upper 80s and low to mid 90s.  Of course here it’s not too humid, but the sun is much stronger, and walking around on Tuesday was killer.  MB and I had lunch in Union Square, and there was absolutely no one sunning himself.  Everyone was hiding in the shade – aside from one drunk homeless guy – and all the birds were breathing with their beaks wide open, a definite sign of hotness.

It was tough to sleep even with both ceiling fans going and MB’s ghetto A/C (the bathtub filled with cold water).  Thank goodness yesterday it started to cool down.  By the time I got home, it was foggy and chilly, and last night was prefectly cool and comfortable.

Carolina Baker over at GirlHabits interviewed me, and the write-up is now up. It was a lot of fun, and some of my own answers surprised me.  When I thought about what I wanted to be known for, I realized I didn’t really want to be known for anything.  It’s funny how others’ perception of me isn’t that big of a concern anymore.  I mean, in individual situations, sure.  Are people interested in something I’ve written?  Am I saying something different?  Am I being putting myself out there enough before calling out other people?  But I’m not too concerned with how I come off, or how I’m known, apart from my writing.

The superpower question was fun too.  At first I thought, Of course I’d fly or be invisible, but then I realized more than anything, I want to be Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Echo from Dollhouse.  I want to be essentially normal except that I’m very strong and fast and can kick anyone’s butt.

We just started watching The Wire. I know: two years too late.  I’d always heard it mentioned and thought it was about a newspaper for some reason.  But it’s not.  It’s about police in Baltimore and it’s a damned good show.  At first I thought it was a little boring, but now I’m completely obsessed by it.  We’re finishing up season 1 tonight.  No spoilers please!

My boss lent me Kathleen Norris’ Saturday’s Child, a novel written back around 1915 and set at that time in San Francisco.  It’s kind of fluffy but I’m enjoying it all the same.  It’s basically a romance between a young working woman and a rich flighty dude.  I love all the mentions of SF, as well as what everyone is wearing and what they’re eating.

Well that’s enough of this farrago.  Off to the gym and yoga!

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Wow, I can’t believe it’s been almost three weeks since I last blogged.  I have a lot to catch up on.

I’m finally at a point in my work project that I don’t have to work too much this weekend.  While I’m glad to have time to work on my own stuff, I’m a little nervous too.  The work project is a no-brainer.  There’s a set process and  I just follow it.  With my own stuff, it’s a lot more loosey goosey.

My low cholesterol life is still going strong, though I did splurge twice this week on  fatty pesto pasta with fatty sausage, the first time after I had drinks with my co-workers and the second time last night because I didn’t feel like fish. (Last night was chicken sausage but the pasta was still pretty oily.)

It’s been almost a year since I’ve had a drink.  MB doesn’t touch the stuff and I’m allergic to alcohol so drinking is never that much fun.  Wednesday night I had a glass of red wine – no, half a glass of red wine – and I was DRUNK.  Very warm, very red, light-headed, and chatty.  By the time I got home, I was craving bad food.  Hence, the fatty pesto pasta.

I was also a slacker about working out this week.  Last Sunday I just didn’t feel like it, and was so blah in the afternoon, I made the mistake of having a double espresso.  As with alcohol, I’m sensitive to caffeine.  I mean, I can have as much as I want before noon, but after that, I’m in trouble.

I thought I’d be up till one or two.  I was up till 5:30 AM.  The worst was when I’d drift off, only to be jerked awake by something random – the door creaking, the girl downstairs talking at the top of her lungs, my brain skittering off to some random memory.

Luckily I work part-time so I just switched my days, working from home on Monday and going in on Tuesday, which meant missing yoga.  Boo hoo.  Then I went in on Thursday instead of Friday because we had a meeting I didn’t want to miss, which meant missing yoga again.  Must go twice next week!

Speaking of the gym, lately I’ve noticed this chick who simultaneously cracks me up and annoys me.  She’s Asian, very thin, and has a lot of dyed hair – you know, that weird brownish, reddish, yellowish color that some Asian women seem to favor.  She runs on the treadmill, but she runs 1) with all that hair down 2) fully make-up’d, and 3) holding onto the side rails for dear life.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to run next to her.  Being that close, I could see that in addition to big hair, she had big, fake boobs.  I mean, not ginormous but solid and perfectly round.  For a moment I wondered if she was actually post-op (ie, formerly a guy), but looking at her hands, I didn’t think she was.

To motivate myself, I got into a pretend competition with her.  I *have* to run more than this chick, I told myself, with all her hair and her tribal tattoo and silicon lady lumps.  But she ran a lot, and pretty fast.  Glancing at her machine, I saw that she ran six or seven miles an hour.

BUT.  She was holding onto the machine the whole time, the sides or the handles at the top.  And she wasn’t sweating at all, as far as I could tell.  Meanwhile I was running between 5.7 and 6.3 MPH for four miles, and I was drenched.

Then someone she knew took the treadmill on her other side, and they had a whole long conversation.  I mean, she was hardly out of breath.  I kept thinking, It’s because she’s holding onto the handrails right? She’s basically bracing herself or lifting herself up.  (The real question is of course, Why do I care? but I do and that’s that.)

This morning I found that it *is* fake running to hold the treadmill the whole time. Yes, vindicated!  I mean, I already knew that, but I just needed the internet to assure me again.

Now that I’m done being catty, it’s back to the gym again.  I’ll say hello to Miss Big-Hair-Fake-Boobs-Fake-Runner if I see her.

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This week I started on this project at work.  We sort of waited till the last minute to get started so I basically have the month of August to write four short books.

It’s not a lot of writing.  It’s mostly gathering information, editing it, and putting it all together, which does take time.  I was supposed to get the first 30 entries of the four books done by tomorrow, but I only got two done, with working at home on the days I wasn’t in the office.  I’ll have to take the weekend to do the other two.

I love getting paid to write!  And it’s actually nice to work on something that’s not about me.

Speaking of which, here’s another article about me! Specifically about the time I got into it with an obnoxious hipster douchette when I still lived in New York.

In cholesterol land, I’m finishing up week three.  This week I really craved bad food but resisted.  The worst are all the bad salty snacks available for free in the kitchen at work.

I decided I’m going to try to work in an hour of carido once a week.  For the four times I do hard cadio, I usually do about forty minutes, whether running or on the elliptical.  For one of those four times, I’ll try to run five or six miles, or 40 minutes running plus 20 minutes elliptical, or vice versa.

This past Tuesday I felt like I was at the gym forever.  I ran five miles, walked for five minutes, then did an hour of yoga.  I was soooo hungry afterward.

In vertigo land, I’ve decided that my allergy meds haven’t been working.  In fact, I think they make me more light-headed (which is indeed a side effect) as well as incredibly parched in the morning.  I read that ginkgo biloba might help with vertigo so I took some earlier this week.

That shit kept me up for two days.  Well, not literally, but that night I didn’t sleep well, and last night I didn’t sleep well either!  I didn’t feel jittery, but my brain felt energetic.  Last night I did eventually fall asleep and for a good amount of time, but it took me a while.

I haven’t read anything online that says ginkgo biloba will keep you up, but I guess if it improves blood flow to the brain, that goes without saying.

I haven’t taken it again.  Maybe I’ll take it tomorrow morning.

By the way, since I stopped taking my allergy meds, I’ve felt much less light-headed.  Plus I’ve been more careful about not bending my head forward when I’m on the computer, and taking more breaks.

On that note, off the computer for the night!

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Mission: Lower Cholesterol

I’ve finished up week two of Mission: Lower Cholesterol, aka Fuck My Doctor and His Threats of Lipitor.  This week was both a bit easier and a bit harder.  Healthy choices have already become a habit, but I’m still tempted by bad snacks and desserts.  Well of course: I always will be.  For instance, yesterday at work, I saw an empty Frito bag in my garbage can, and thought, Fuck, I could really go for some Fritos.

I was sort of lax about my green tea habit, opting instead for another cup of coffee one day and just skipping a second round of caffeine altogether another day.  I’m also getting sick of almonds as a snack.  Need to get some mixed nuts.

I’m one day short of hitting my workout goal, unless I go to the gym later today.  This morning I opted for an at-home workout of weight training and Pilates.  My post-yoga recovery this week was much quicker.  I wasn’t nearly as sore the next day, and by the following day was all better.

I also finally brought my yoga mat instead of just using the mats the gym provides.  While the yoga mat is definitely better in that it’s not slippery and much longer, it doesn’t provide as much cushion and so the base of my hands started to get sore.  However, they didn’t hurt afterward so maybe it’s just a matter of getting used to it.

Writing News

I had another piece published in The Frisky last week, I’m Sick of Hearing About Motherhood. I felt like I had written several “nice” pieces and wanted to write something more controversial. The comments range from, “Amen, sister!” to “Oh my God, how can you say such things? We mothers have to put up with SOOO much, and now we have to put up with bitchy attitudes like yours, Miss Angela Tung! We’re MOTHERS! Cut us a break!!!”

I rest my case.

Funny too are comments that say, “Wait till she has a kid!” while in the piece I basically say who knows, I may act the same way when I have kids. Shows that people didn’t take the time to read to the very end.

On the Nervous Breakdown last week, I published I Hate Reading About Music, which has been my most popular piece so far. There has been a lot of music posts lately so I think the subject is on people’s minds. I don’t know if those who don’t read the TNB regularly would be as into it.

This morning I had fun giving a video interview to one of my Nervous Breakdown friends.  I’m always self-conscious about how I look on Skype.  My hair was all wet so I kind of look like a seal in a pink shirt. Oh well.

At work I’ve been given a big month-long project.  It will involve lots of writing, including on days that I’m not in the office.  Yay!  Getting paid to write!

What I’m Reading Now

I just finished The Book of Lost Things by John Connelly.  It was a very interesting book, an interesting style.  On the surface it seems to be a book for children or Young Adults because of the fairy tale aspect, but it’s quite gruesome at times and very sad overall.  Now I’ve started Corelli’s Mandolin.

I wanted to pick up a copy of Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi, which I’ve never read before, but it was checked out at the library.  I’ve always wanted to read it but just never got around to it.  Then I started watching a documentary on Mark Twain last week and became interested again.

I didn’t realize Mark Twain could be kind of a jerk to his family, and had a lot of darkness about him, blaming himself for his brother’s and son’s deaths.  I think a lot of “comedians” are like that, not a laugh a minute but actually quite depressed.

I also didn’t know that his first lecture was given here in San Francisco at the Maguire’s Academy of Music.  I wonder if that theater is still around.  I’m curious to go see.

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It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these and I’m due for a post anyway.

If you didn’t already know, ATRO stands for Awesome Things Rip-Off because I totally ripped off the idea from this guy.

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Ladies, you’ve been there.  Intermission at a Broadway show or concert, and the line for the women’s restroom snakes out of the restroom, down the hall, around the corner, and up the stairs you just came down. Not only that, people aren’t pay attention.  They’re talking to their friend, or on their cell phone, or checking their email, or are just dumb ass space cadets, unlike you and a few others keeping an eagle’s eye out for the next available stall because a) you really have to go, b) intermission’s almost over, and c) who wants to stay in the bathroom any longer than they have to?

Thank God for the line directors.

These ancient yet spry ladies keep us, well, in line.  “Next!” they call, pointing us like dumb cows to the next available stall.  “Next!” they bark to the ninny addicted to her iPhone.  Only better would be if they banged on the stalls of women taking too long.  “What are you doing in there, knitting a sweater? Pee and go!”

But public restrooms aren’t the only place we can enjoy the line directors.

Concession stands. We were at a concert recently where there was one long-ass line for the many workers of the concession stand.  “Oy,” I murmured. “People won’t pay attention and this will take twice as long.”

Line director to the rescue!

Grocery stores. We all remember the dude in the apron pointing us to the next available ringer-upper before Whole Foods went automated.

Airports. Why there aren’t always line directors in airports is beyond me.  They can answer your questions, make sure you’re in the right line, as well as direct the gaggle of already-drunk housewives going to Vegas to the next available agent is available.

Now all we need are our own pushers to get people on the bus properly.

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First up, my Frisky piece from last month, “I’m Competitive,” is now on CNN Living.  Thanks to my pals for telling me!

The range of comments is interesting.  I can’t help but wonder how people would feel if I were a man.

In other news, I’ve just closed in on week one of Vanquishing My High LDL.  All I have to say is thank God for dark chocolate and its cholesterol-lowering abilities.  It saved me twice when I was craving something sweet.  Also, I’ve been drinking tons of tea – green, chai, ginger, rooibus.  No milk or sugar of course, which isn’t hard for me since I’ve always had plain tea.

If I go to the gym today, then I’ve met my workout goals for the week – hard cardio four times a week, at least a 20 minute walk the balance of the days, and some kind of weight training twice a week.  I did yoga for the first time in a month earlier this week, and it KILLED me.  My shoulders and upper back so sore I could barely dress myself.  By yesterday though, I was fine.

I finally finished Gone with the Wind.  Wow, that took me almost a month to read.  While I’m not sure it was a great book – some parts are great, but the last third is sort of all over the place – I will say it was fascinating.

I knew that it was racist, but I didn’t know how racist.  It’s one thing to portray the perceptions of the time in a knowing way, but it’s another for the author to believe those perceptions.  For instance, that blacks were actually happy to be slaves, and that those who liked their freedom were “uppity” and “trashy.”  That blacks were like animals and children, and needed white people to take care of them.  I kept waiting for the other side of it, the human description to balance out all the descriptions comparing blacks to dogs, horses, apes, and elephants.  But it never came.

Margaret Mitchell’s portrayal of women, on the other hand, is very well-rounded and fair.  There are all types of women in the book, and not one is better than the other.  There’s fierce and independent Scarlett, who pays a price for her independence.  There’s seemingly timid and quiet Melanie, who shows surprising strength.  No one is perfect (except maybe Melanie) and no one is a pure villain, not even the Yankees.

The book is also surprisingly anti-war.  “A rich man’s war fought by poor men.”  Sounds familiar.

Needing a break from romance, I’m now reading John Connolly’s The Book of Lost Things.  Eerie and sad so far.

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In case you didn’t know, I just found out I have borderline high cholesterol.  This means different things to different doctors.  For instance, my doc in New York wasn’t worried since my good-to-bad cholesterol ratio was still good, and I don’t have any risk factors.  However, my SF doctor thinks my bad cholesterol level should be much lower, and even mentioned meds if it’s worse by the time I get it checked again in October.

So now I’m obsessed.  In my last post, you can see that I went as far as to create a table showing how my numbers increased since 2007.  I won’t go that far this time.

Since Friday, I’ve had oatmeal with skim milk and raisins for breakfast every morning.  I need it a little sweet so I add half a teaspoon of brown sugar and a teaspoon of, yes, maple syrup.  I should use honey but maple syrup is so much tastier, and I figure I don’t add that much.

When we’ve gone out to eat, I’ve opted mostly for fish (not fried).  For instance, from our favorite Thai restaurant, I got salmon steamed in a bamboo leaf, which was DELICIOUS, mostly because of this amazing (non-creamy) chili garlic sauce.  When we went to Mel’s, I got the Yuppie Scramble, two eggs scrambled with ground turkey and various veggies.

I’m not sure what the verdict is on eggs.  I keep reading that the yolk is high in cholesterol but nutritious at the same time.  I guess it’s safest to limit yolk intake to a few times a week.

MB got donuts the other night and I resisted.  Yay!

Last night we had Mexican and avoided anything cheesy.  Instead I had their clear chicken soup, which is packed with vegetables, and a chicken mole dish with no cheese on the beans.

I’ve been trying to have green tea every day, along with more tea in general.  I usually have ginger tea after meals, but have started incorporating rooibus tea again, mostly just to change things up.  Plus tea makes me feel full after a meal and less likely to grab a cookie.

Yesterday some of my co-workers were going out for lunch, but I got mine first.  One, because I was starving and couldn’t wait, and two, I didn’t want to be stuck with a lot of high fat options.  I really wanted my pasta with tuna – and no mayo – random veggies, and pretzels.

I noticed that the two Indian guys at work never snack.  They have their lunch, and then coffee or tea for the rest of the afternoon, but no chips or cookies or anything.  They’re not necessarily thinner than my co-workers who *do* snack, but I think it’s an interesting cultural dynamic.

My snack yesterday?  Plain yogurt with a cut-up nectarine and honey.  Usually I have just a nonfat yogurt that already has fruit, but I realize that if I don’t have this kind of snack, I can go for weeks without having any fresh fruit.  I don’t know why.  I need veggies every day, but I can live without fruit.

This obsessiveness should die down in a week or two.  I find I need to be obsessed in the beginning in order to make changes into habits that I no longer need to think about.

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