A moderately chill weekend

Friday night YP and I caught our coworker, J.’s, opera performance, which was held in the basement of a church near where I live. I’m not an opera expert so I couldn’t give an assessment except to say that some voices were stronger than others, and some people were better actors than other. J. was quite hilarious. She played a Russian prince and really owned the part.

Saturday I was up fairly early to pack my stuff and go to the ‘rents’. Laundry, lunch, and NaNoWriMo. I also read quite a bit of Beauty Junkies, by Alex Kuczynski. The subtitle is The Industry, the Hype, the Beauties, and the Beasts.

Fascinating! Did you know that there would basically be no plastic surgery if not for World War I, the first war in which artillery of such force was used in such close contact with soldiers that it was the first time there were casualties like having half your face blown off.

Faces were reconstructed out of necessity, and as times became more peaceful and people got richer, reconstructive surgery began to include cosmetic surgery, surgery done for purely aesthetic reasons.

Then due to the changing healthcare landscare – insurance nightmares, HMOs taking over, etc. – plastic surgery became more appealing to doctors. Because cosmetic surgery is never covered by insurance, they don’t have to deal with those hassles, and instead get a huge wad of cash for an hour’s worth of work.

And that’s just a sampling. The author explores the Botox boom and accompanying dangers and horror stories (hello, it’s derived from poison!), celebrities and plastic surgery (there’s a reason Nicole Kidman seems so icy – her face barely moves), and L.A. vs New York (not much difference). Makes me embrace the lines on my forehead a little.

My mother annoyed me a bit over the weekend. In trying to share more about my life, I told her about YP and I going to J.’s opera. Instead of thinking oh great, you went out and did something interesting, she could only focus on the fact that I was doing a friend thing instead of a date thing. She gave a big sigh and said, “Don’t you want to meet anyone else?”

At that point I clammed up. I guess I could tell her that I’ve dating off and on for the past 18 months, and that I’ve dated two people exclusively, but I don’t know if this will reassure her or make her worry more and ask a million questions about how I met these people, and whether or not I know they’re okay, and exactly how far did I go with the two I dated exclusively (THERE’S a conversation I NEVER want to have). My bet is on the latter.

I just don’t have the energy to have a whole giant discussion about how I need a break from dating and want to concentrate on myself. It’s not like talking to my friends who understand immediately. It’s like, not only do I have to come to that realization myself and learn to grow and accept my life as it is – not only accept, but to learn to love it, which I’m finding I am, I have to try and convince my mother everything’s okay.

Maybe I’ll have the strength to do it eventually. Not right now. If I open it up now, I feel like I’m just going to be snappish and it’ll turn into an argument. So instead I bury my nose in my book.

Anyway, Sunday was more NaNoWriMo. After I came back, I got to see SB and Ellie for a bit. I must bore them with my, “Oh my God, she’s even taller now!” That little girl cracks my shit up. They had taken a trip to Las Vegas and saw the Cirque de Soleil. At one point out of nowhere, Ellie said something like, “Babwa [her grandmother, Barbara] put one hand here” – covering one ear – “and Poppy [her grandfather] put one hand here” – convering her other ear. “Circus too loud!” I was like, “What the hell is she talking about?”

They saw the Cirque with the guy dressed up like a baby (I forget the name). SB asked, “Was there a baby?” Ellie got a weirded out look on her face and was like, “Not a baby, a man baby.” I said, “That was weird, right?” For the next twenty minutes, she repeated, “Man baby. Weird. Man baby. Weird,” except she pronounced “weird” with something like a Boston accent. Just like flower. “Flowah,” she says.

Gloomy Monday.


  1. It’s hard when your mother doesn’t know how to support you – I know! I have a chinese mom too!

    I guess the important thing to remember is that they are trying their best and everything comes from a good place. She’s just concerned about her ‘baby’- how can we fault them for that?

  2. chloe, you make me feel guilty! ;)

    but you’re right, that’s something good to keep in mind when my parents start annoying me again, which i know they will.