All right, my dears, the time has finally come. I started out strong (it's easy to find the time when you're unemployed), and ended up teetering on the line between being an abandonment blogger and a neglectful blogger. I like doing this, I really do. But I'm not superhuman and I can't do everything.

As of this month, I am both a permanent Hutch employee and starting grad school, albeit a long timeline. I also want to have some time to relax and spend time with the people that are important to me, so I must forego some other commitments, especially the ones I wasn't so committed to in the first place.

Adieu.

Go ahead, you can start calling me tacky right now. I'm not afraid.

So, as some of my unfortunate life circumstances have had longstanding repercussions, I have discovered Coupons. Before I go on, in defense of this story, I was once Too Good for Coupons. If you were to have handed me a coupon for the restaurant I was going to later that night with my friends, I would have said, "No, it's ok, I always forget those," or I would have thanked you and purposefully left it at home while I was out. I thought it was... tacky. To spend the time thinking about how to save a few dollars - of course I have better things to do than that!

Now I have reached the point where I can either spend the extra time to save a few dollars and get to go out like a normal person, or continue to check out too many books at the library. Here I am, experiencing the take-what-you-can-get life of using coupons. But! There is a diamond in the rough here. I have found a number of amazing places that I would never have gone to if I had not had a screaming deal to take me there. Zoka Coffee (and tea, I think) is exquisite. Every pour of espresso is a dream come true. And the Zoka bar, oh wow, I hope you save your daily calorie allotment for this one. I went to Mission in West Seattle with my mom, a true Mexican aficionado. I thought she had died and gone to heaven after the enchilada. Then she had the flan and I could have sworn it was armageddon. Swell tequila list, too. St. Thomas Bistro in Capitol Hill is this tiny, 16-seat restaurant with live music. Just go ahead and imagine the acoustics. I could go on and on, but it might be more efficient if you checked out my Yelp profile instead. Save ourselves a few cyberwaves, or whatever the term for internet space is.

The point is, if I were still too proud to use coupons, I would still be at Palomino on a regular basis for that all day, every day happy hour (which makes no logical sense, isn't that regular pricing then?) instead of trying all these new (to me) and incredible! places. I have not had a single bad time checking out a coupon locale, and I can't wait for what the future holds. I would go back to all of these places and pay full price, so all in all, everyone goes home happy.

An interesting note on trust...

First I will admit that I am young enough not to be very familiar with the patterns people create for themselves. For most of my life, it has always been assumed that the people I know will turn out okay.

I have now had two people, probably the two people I have been closest to during our friendships, betray my trust in very similar ways. During Episode 2, I consulted with the other party of Episode 1, to see if this person could help enlighten me as to what was going on and how to respond. Our friendship had never fully recovered, and I am not the type of person who lets myself make the same mistakes twice. Here I feel like Alanis Morrissette is singing in the background, because, ironically, my first friend told me this loss of trust was extremely big, and not recoverable for them.

This makes me think twice. And I'm sure it will for the rest of my life.

Is it worth it to be so harsh on someone else, when you might do the same thing, either in the past or the future? You choose to stand by people or you don't. It's important to demand your respect, because respect isn't something that comes and goes. Trust may have its ups and downs, but if you don't take a chance and believe in it, you could lose everything.

For a less diary-like adventure, stay tuned. I am going to the International District Night Market this weekend - very excited to see how similar (or not!) it is to the chaotic night markets in China.

For months I have been frustrated working with a particular somebody at work. My work atmosphere is very Type A, and this person was a couple steps behind - always. I knew this person was not a good fit, and continuously wondered why they had not been fired already. Yesterday she was fired. She was putting things in bags to leave, and me, being the blunder I am, asked what she was doing. She simply replied "They just fired me." It hit me like a giant fist in the stomach. I was too lame to respond appropriately, so I just froze, dropped my jaw, and left the room.

During the six months we worked together, she had confided in me about some of her personal problems, which included being jailed for child abuse, when, according to her, the child was lying, adult children abusing her privileges, the children's father slandering her in front of the children, and assorted issues like these. She had been working as a temp for two years prior to lending this job, and had not gone to the dentist in longer than that, since she did not have the insurance. She is also 59, so new skills probably aren't jumping out of the book at her.

Now, I know that everyone has problems. It's all relative. But the idea of this woman's life becoming instantly more difficult, while mine perhaps gets easier, really frazzled me. As frustrated as I was working with her, I still did not think her to be a bad person, nor did I wish bad things to happen to her. Then I remembered what a bad fit she was for that job. It was so weird...I didn't know what to feel. Relief at work improving? Sympathy at the rollercoaster of her life?

The day after I still can't forget that moment when she told me she was fired, and I still don't know how I feel about it. But I will probably always wonder what she decided to do when she woke up in the morning on August 21, 2010.

Ok, ok, I can finally admit it... I have been a horrible blogger the past few months because of two things. (Right now I am wishing I had some actual literary training, and would know which to list first - importance, suspense?!) Well, I like to leave the best for last. I re-entered the world of full time work, luckily to the office equivalent of paradise. Where coffee tastes like a mai tai, the heat of my computer feels like the tropical sunshine, and the people are about as friendly as the come. Meanwhile I was falling head over heels in love. I'm going to spare you all the details on that one, I think there has certainly been enough romantic literature written, and I'm sure I wouldn't be the best at it. I also think there are some things that are better when they aren't shared. I usually feel delightfully spoiled when I keep something special to myself and remember that the sweetness is all for me.

Alright, I have now had time to recover from this wonderful/horrific (Note on this word combination: I am reminded of "crazy/beautiful" and am quite intrigued by seemingly paradoxical word combinations, because once you hit one on the nose, nothing else can be quite as descriptively effective) book and would like to add a few more un-tear-stained thoughts. This was probably the best book I've ever read. The worst possible things to happen to a human being happened in this book, and as Leo and Kate know, the heart goes on. How, how how?! I feel like getting on my knees in gratitude of my good fortune, if this book had not made me too wise to do so! I refuse to explain that, I simply cannot ruin an instant of this book. I will let each word weave itself into your heart on its own. The wondrous part of this book comes into play when the strength of the human spirit and emotional need to share are sharply highlighted.


Just, just, go read it. And then come find me, and I'll give you a hug and we'll talk. A Fine Balance, Rohinton Mistry. Don't let Oprah fool you into thinking it's chick lit, because it's not.



...forever young...

I have just finished reading A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry. And as much as I love talking and writing and communicating, I can't figure out how to tell someone the way this book made me feel. The events that happened in the book were catastrophically tragic...yet I am left feeling happy, because I am so grateful for my life, so lucky. To have a place to sleep, to have good health, even decent health, to have toothpaste, and more than anything, to have more than one good friend, and to have a family. To have opportunity. These things can make a difference at even the smallest of scales.

And now, water. I must replenish those tears.

I would like to give a kudos to anyone who has made a 180 in life, or seriously considered it. It is very difficult to embrace change, and I don't think the typical human being gets enough credit for standing up and taking life by the horns. Recent things that are pertinent to my life are moving, taking a new job, quitting a job you don't like, major priority shifting, any combination of the above...but the list goes on evolving, as life does.

Change all things that are familiar to you. Spend a lot of money in the process. Lose a lot of time moving, shuffling things around, sorting out personal logistics. Put your mind and body through the stress of adjusting. And, when all is said and done, will you be better off...? Only time will tell.

Regardless of what happens, an immense amount of self-confidence will be gained. Being nervous and apprehensive ahead of time is the worst part - once you've got that out of the way, you're almost too busy to be worried. You'll go, 'Hey, I could do that again if I had to!' Say it loud, say it proud. Maybe, just maybe, you liked the transition, and would do it again in a heartbeat.

An Ode to Recycling...

Because it's not just about getting rid of your things in a conscientious manner, but finding them, too.

A true farmers' market aficionado, I like them even better when they have a flea market to boot, a la Fremont and Georgetown. On a recent jaunt to the Center of the Universe, I found a four-feet-tall, heavy duty tissue paper daffodil. The base of the flower is a bulb, with little tiny roots coming out. If ever there was love at first sight, this was it. Even a little bit of water damage couldn't stop me. I asked the owner if I could buy it, in a could-I-possibly-be-so-lucky-as-to-own-this tone, and her reply was almost the opposite! She softly chuckled and said of course, letting me that if I'm going to take her junk, I can roll full steam ahead. We had to walk a few blocks and enter a shop on the way home, post-purchase, and it was a walk of pride. Everyone was looking at me and commenting, and I just beamed with pleasure.

Now I'm just desperate for the apartment to put it in. Dear Queen Anne, might you have room for two and a flower?

The following week led to a newbie trip to Georgetown, and this market does not disappoint. I have never seen so much robust produce. Yes, robust is really the only word I would use to describe them. Let your imaginations conjure up what they will. 

On the way out, we stumbled upon what I now know is the Power Tool Drag Races. I will cheers every cheap beer I've had to this. We walked by about 45 minutes before race time, so people were still arriving with their home-made vessels. Each one was clearly stamped with the 'Made with Love' signature. You had to be looking carefully to see that...wink. Creativity and community were emanating from this event, and for a fleeting moment I wanted to enter next year. Perhaps I will just sponsor someone with a little more power tools knowledge. 

All of this "junk" has brought people together to share this thing called living. Sell it, use it, turn it into something else, it might be more valuable than you think.

As much as I love math, and har de har har, I'm not being sarcastic at all, I'm a little bit confused by the idea of indexing happiness. Running a regression on smiles and frowns. Calculating the confidence interval of the heart. I'm starting to see this idea pop up all over the place : The Happiness Index (published in The Atlantic, this one is based off of Facebook status posts; fortunately I'm enough of a jerk to say how dumb this sounds), the Happy Planet Index, a well-intentioned attempt at creating longer and happier lives while reducing human environmental impact, and Gross National Happiness, synonymous with GDP. The Happiness Index belongs to the United States, the Happy Planet Index to the Brits, and Bhutan currently has one of the highest GNH's. Ocean to ocean, this concept has found roots for itself.


I definitely encourage you to look some of these up - and there are more out there - because the original basis for the studies is so well-intentioned, it does give one sincere hope for humankind. I will give that one to happiness statistics. But if you asked me to take all my emotions, and make some kind of definitive, black-and-white logic out of them, I would tell you that you are crazy. I don't think most people even know when they are truly happy, or truly not. In hindsight, perhaps, but not at the time. I also don't think it would be even remotely possible to get people to accurately admit to their current state of mind. Even if we did come to some concise conclusions on happiness, would you really want to hear a rule and follow it? I don't think many people would benefit from someone else telling them what would make them happy and what wouldn't.


Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.


I do what I want.

Alright, I'm back on the train. Life has settled down a bit - not necessarily a good thing, but in this case I am ever so grateful. The China Situation has given me the perspective to be able to recognize and appreciate how many respectful, stable situations I have worked my way into. Even better, it presents the challenge of continuing to search out and recognize all the lessons life can teach me. Like taking a Farmer's Market and flea market aficionado to the Fremont Market for the first time. I've never spent so much time there.

Of course all of the photographers were interesting, along with the people selling handicrafts from other countries, and the start-up bakers. However, the most fascinating bit to this social community event, was the man playing guitar, and harmonica, singing when he wasn't harmonica-ing. Each of his feet was tied to a string, connected to a drum on his back, so the rhythm of his dancing dictated the rhythm of his music. I will say, with no sarcasm whatsoever, that I aspire to be as talented and dedicated as this musician who even forgot a water bottle. He put together several skills that require years to learn to create this manifesto. Not to mention he was unpretentious enough to accept offers of used water bottles from strangers. If there is a man who can build a community, it is this senor, citizen of the center of the universe.