Current Mood

Waiting for the storm, feeling like this guy right now...kinda like an asshole.

My Life Is A Hurricane

Irene has begun her highly anticipated adventure, starting with a nice little vacation in the Bahamas. She took the place by storm. Literally.
As she now travels up the Carolina coasts, heading for the Jersey Shore (think: Snooki's voiceover "I'm going to Jersey Shore, bitch!") she will be visiting Seaside Heights with very few to party beside her. Next stop: The big, bad, juicy NYC. What to do once she arrives? Paint the town red? Or more like black and chaos? Will she go all-out or take gnashing bites at the city, but leaving most of the apple intact?

As east coasters anticipate the arrival of Hurricane Irene, the city is at once chaotic, yet calm. Grocery stores, fervent with last-minute shoppers, scrambling for batteries, toilet paper, ice cream and, don't forget, alcohol-- now closed with empty shelves of produce, bread and anything with a shelf life lasting into 2015 most likely settled into pantries across the 5 boroughs.
Home Depot's sales have tripled since Mayor Bloomberg has uttered the now infamous words "State of Emergency" and "mandatory evacuation."

Ralph Lauren and his daughter, Dylan (of Dylan's Candy Bar) have long evacuated the now not-so-glitzy city via chopper. The candy bars and lollipops, left to their own devices. Incubated babies and sick, elderly folk, evacuated from NYU's hospital, while the rest of the city waits with bated breath counting down the seconds, wondering about the size of Irene and the destruction she will leave in her wake.

Ironically, my life has never been calmer. Graduated from NYU on time, others not so lucky. Proud of my grades, but not proud of my student debt. Found love. I'm taking it with me. Seen and experienced the city to my content. Obviously, one can never experience all or enough of the city.

People continue to ask me: "What else would you like to do before moving to SF?" I ponder that thought for a moment, and really, I can't think of anything other than "Eat at Peter Luger's and party at the Hamptons"-- both realistic choices given I still have 31 days left to enjoy my time. Aside from partying, eating, or feeling like these past two and half years have been some sort of study-abroad/extended vacation, it's really time for me to grow up and live a more settled life. Who would've thunk? Me? The girl that ran away from the institution of marriage and a partner who wanted a family, a home, is now ready to embrace those very things and is open to giving it a go.

Timing is everything. Sometimes, we know the things we want, we see them from a distance and we expect that we will be prepared and can handle the outcome when that time has arrived. Much like a hurricane, when the things you always dreamed of having are hurtled at you in rapid motion, the instinct is to run and take shelter. Much like the preparation of Irene, I have given myself time to sit with the anxiety, to be patient and have a clear mind for her arrival. But when she comes, I will fully embrace her and allow myself to be taken on the crazy ride. As long as I don't die from it, I'll always be able to pick myself back up.
And, just like returning to California, back to my home, I imagine when faced with the similar prospect several years ago, I'll be ready this time with gallons of ice cream and alcohol to get me through the storm.

A new chapter awaits me in SF. Of course, I wonder if any recurring characters will be in it.

1-year hiatus

It has been an entire year since I last blogged. I feel rusty as a writer and to be honest, writing does not come as "easy" and natural to me as it once used to.

I have what I refer to as a "1-year writer's block".

Anyhow, life in NY is great.

Minus this god-awful weather.
Minus the Bronx Egyptian Cobra's escape.
Minus lugging around bags like some mule (you got your gym bag, your school bag, your work bag, your grocery bag, your lunch bag, etc).
Minus the fact that I get into fights with old people at the gym (Old Person: "You need to swim on YOUR side of the lane." Me: "But there's plenty of space between our lanes." OP: "Well I can't see you and you're swimming too close". Me: "Try getting a pair of goggles! Objects in water appear closer than you think." OP goes to lifeguard to complain. I swear Old People can be so entitled.)

Love life? Ha. It's either feast or freak show.
I officially ended things with D, a wall street financial something-or-other, caring, good listener, not an A-hole like most other wall street types but so involved in his career that he lived his life in "compartments" (Schedule: M-F: 5am-10pm: Work, work, eat, work, sleep; Sat-Sun: Love life. Repeat weekly pattern.) On top of that, emotionally detached which, for me, being in the counseling profession, made him more of a "client" than a "boyfriend".

Then there was J, the 22-year old. I don't even know how this started lol. It went something like this: J: "Yea, I'm 22 years old. How old are you?" Me: "Um, guess..." J: "26!" Me: "Yep! Wow, you're a really good age-guesser!"

I don't normally care to deny or lie about these things but on this particular day, I guess I felt like wanting to be 26 all over again. I believe 26 to be a good year.

Work: Sucks.
*Disclaimer: Ok, in this economy, I am grateful and thankful to still have a job. A job that allows me to do my homework and blog when I'm bored. Nevertheless, I count my blessings where I get them.

School: Can't.Wait.For.It.To.Be.Over. Graduation Date: T-minus 6 weeks. Commencement Speaker: President Bill Clinton which equals #WINNING#

Social Life: Awesome! I've been on a spree with Broadway Musicals lately. Started with Lion King, then American Idiot (featuring Davey Havok!), then Jersey Boys ("Joisy" Boys), (umm I don't think the Pee Wee Herman show counts as a musical right?), and next lineup: Spiderman, Mamma Mia, Phantom of the Opera, Chicago, Sister Act.

Food: Organic, fresh, pescatore-related type foods. Due to medical reasons, obviously, and not of my own free will.

Scruffles: Impregnated by rat. Or maybe, pigeon. Perhaps, bedbug or roach as those are the only creatures one sees roaming around NYC.

Travel: Dominican Republic all-inclusive in 16 days! Sun, beach, food, alcohol! I'm attracted to a very hedonistic lifestyle I must say. And guilt-free, a quality I've come to inherit and appreciate since being a newbie New Yorker.

Living in NYC for two years has allowed me to embrace, enhance and profess my weirdness to the world. I feel like I've been liberated. And, know what's great? No one in NY cares cause we're all weird! It's almost like a cult. Being weird is almost a requisite. (Cool-weird, not weird-weird). There is a difference.

Googled Yourself Lately?

From time to time, the narcissist in me likes to go on the web and run a google search on myself. The paranoid in me likes to see what information others are able to view, and the control freak side wants to do what I can to prevent public access to certain private information, if possible.

Yes, I know, the Counseling profession is a good fit for someone like me!

So, imagine my surprise the other day when I found pictures of myself up on this make-up artists' site:

Echou Make-up

True, they were taken because of the make-up and hair she had done on the Bride, but the rest of us, she cannot take credit for (Shiseido did my make-up and I did my hair, thankyouverymuch!). I don't know if I should be flattered or peeved. A bit of both, I guess.

I find the thing that irks me most is that my photo was on her website without my knowledge or consent. Typical Asian vendors...

But I suppose, the avoidant-dismissive in me doesn't care enough to do anything about it!

This Blows

Unfortunately, I've heard enough pick up lines in one lifetime to properly officiate and title the following as Worst Pick-up Line ever heard:

"I'll take two of you and call the Doctor in the morning"...

I don't even know what this means. Take two of me what--?

Does it mean that I will make him ache with double my presence? Or does he want a threesome with me...and ME?

And, what does a Doctor have to do with any of it?

Either way, the innuendos aren't flattering.

This one blows my mind, and not in a good way.

How To Tell Your Therapist Off

Well it's quite simple really. Especially, when you get charged an inflated, ridiculous amount ($95) for a missed appointment when you normally pay $19!

I woke up several days ago feeling really sickly. Ever since I've been diagnosed with IgA Nephropathy (google it), I've been more aware of my impending illnesses and colds. They've been quite frequent too.

Convinced I had strep throat yet again, I emailed Dr. S to let him know a few hours ahead that I wouldn't be able attend our therapy session. I knew I might have a 'missed appointment charge' and figured it would be my standard rate of $19/session.

I get a call from Dr. S that he's going to have to bill me $95 because my insurance doesn't cover missed appointments.

Just what every poor, grad student wants to hear.

But since when did anyone notify me of this from the get go? Um... never? So, I was &*$*%% pissed off!

First of all, I've been wanting to terminate my therapy with Dr. S for some time now, but my hatred of saying goodbye prevented me from doing so in spite of his relentless unprofessional demeanor (Note to future therapists: don't glance at the clock, yawn, stretch, shake your knee uncontrollably, or forget your booked appointments with clients). I asked Dr. S if there was anyway I could come in for 30 mins (I still had 30 mins remaining on the hour) and he could still bill my insurance for that time. He said 'I'm sorry, but I'm using this hour for some notes'.

Excuse me?! Hold the phone!

First off, how could my previous appointment spot have been used in such a manner? And, the lack of effort on his part to meet me halfway was what ultimately prompted my immediate termination with him.

In hindsight, it felt to me that he cared about his money more, and it was clear in his unwillingness to accomodate to my situation. It's not like I've ever missed an appointment with him before.

I proceeded to write him a termination email in which I stated how helpful he has been to me but going forward, I challenged him to look at the 'offputting vibe' he may be giving his future clients when he's not aware of his yawns, stretches, etc.

I must've given Dr. S too much credit for being an introspective counselor because he ended up saying that I was 'rude and abrasive' in my email.

I reiterated that I am not apologizing for any of my constructive criticism, and if my remarks invoked a negative response in him, then perhaps he should further explore the meaning behind it resonating such strong feelings inside himself (1 point for Christina!)

Dr. S must've taken my words to heart because the following day, he responded that he 'did care about my treatment with him, wishes we would've been able to work it out in our sessions, and that if I need a referral to see another therapist, not to hesitate' to ask him for one.

Yea, like I'm really gonna take therapist recommendations from you.

Although I'm disappointed with the way we ended, I'm still indebted to him for helping me work through some childhood drama, and help validate the person I am today. He was my first therapist so I will always remember him semi-fondly, and going forward, I will just have to be more demanding and outspoken about what I need/want, if I'm ever in search of another.

The Ex Files

...coming soon...





and, onto a better and brighter topic...

New Things Tried This Week:

• Make cotton candy (surprisingly, quite a chore and messy!)
• Soju shots and beer without puking (yay, my tolerance is increasing)
• Quit social smoking (4 days and counting)
• Mexican Eggs Benedict (uber fabulous!)







Dos Caminos




• Write an Article Critique
• Afghan Norooz Celebration

Nowrooz (Afghan New Year) @ NYU