Moments in GranoLAland, 2008

Counting up the number of months spent here in LA gradually became one full year, and all in a flash (not unlike the red light camera flash I saw today), it has been two and a half years already since I came to introduce a little Granola-ness to this wretched urban wasteland.

As the year is rapidly dwindling to the last few hours, I must do a review of the year, even if it is just for my own purpose of remembering. Because in a few hours, this will all be a champagne-induced blur, ending up in me tragically going to bed alone in this episode of Sexless in the City. So here we go, in a very entropic order.

Best thing that happened at work: I'm no longer a junior analyst, but now an analyst. But even more importantly, this is the first promotion I have received since I graduated from college. Without going into details that might jeopardize my employment, I just have to say that options need to be weighed pretty carefully. In the end, it was the right choice. Now all I'm hoping is that the automotive industry won't complete fall through the bottom.

Best Trip of the Year: Hands down, Japan. Food was the highlight of the trip, not to mention the sights that I haven't seen in over 10 years. My next trip there will probably follow much sooner. I discovered what I had already known, that I am more Japanese American than Japanese. There used to be times when I thought I was the latter, but over the years, I've lost the traditional, conservative personality, and well, you know the rest. The remaining picture has been posted here.

Funniest Moment of the Year: Ending up in a Bear Party with friends, all of whom came to be known collectively as the "Seven Skinny Bitches." Apparently I was so lit that I wasn't even aware of half the things that were happening.

Angriest Moment of the Year: After I got hit in my car in San Gabriel, less than 6 months after I got my car. The idiot was a stereotypical mid-20's Asian girl from SGV, complete with glittery eye shadow and fake designer bag. I was so angry, my friend Jane later told me she was more afraid of me than being hit by the car. The F-bomb was dropped several dozen times. Next time, I will try to exercise a little more moderation.

Embarrassing Moment of the Year: Opening the women's door bathroom accidentally at work. This was part of the building I never find myself in, and I was in a daze that day. The male and female signs looked oddly similar to one another, and when I opened one, I quickly realized it was the wrong door.

Achievement of the Year: Sort of learning how to do the "Single Ladies" dance. Christmas Party for work was SO much more enjoyable knowing how to do this dance. While there has been many people who has tried to do this dance on the Interwebs, Shane Mercado gets my nod for being one of the first.


There you have it, people. See you in 2009.

Closeted optimism

The presidential election doesn't seem to get me down quite as much as the drama surrounding Proposition 8. The fight has been fought before, and this Prop. 8 is just a battle in an ongoing war. No matter the outcome of this particular battle, there will be other hurdles waiting to take its place for the next election / legislature. The current state of things have only demonstrated that there are still many who oppose equal rights for the sexual minority. Major religious institutions have come up with quite a coordinated campaign to openly discriminate and cast gays and lesbians as second-class citizens who do not deserve the same rights as a heterosexual couple. This is where separation of church and state must be enforced, because bigotry and hypocrisy should not exist in politics any more than it does already. Mainstream religion has failed in demonstrating their teachings that God is love, and instead have created an environment where there is hatred and animosity. I'm not a believer anymore in God or the teachings of the Bible, but those who are should remember that every story has more than one side to it. All too often, Christianity focuses on what's convenient to them.

Consider Sodom and Gomorrah, for example. Wikipedia notes that the Biblical cities were destroyed by God because of its citizens' "sexual deviations", even lending meaning to the word "sodomy". Many consider homosexuality as part of this term. Curiously, the Jewish teachings do not blame homosexuality as much as the citizens' cruelty and lack of hospitality to the "stranger." There are parallels to what we're seeing in the electorate, where there is cruelty against those who are not cut out from the same mold as the majority. Perhaps mainstream Christianity has it all wrong, and maybe God didn't frown upon Sodom and Gomorrrah for its percevied "sexual deviations," but perhaps more to do with the way it has treated the minority. If that were the case, then the Knights of Columbia and the Mormon Church should be put to shame.

If Proposition 8 moves forward, it has the potential to reopen the wounds of many people who struggled for acceptance, and deepen the wound of many more who are questioning their sexuality. The optimist in me says that even if Prop. 8 gets approved, the gay community is resilient and determined enough to keep moving forward to push for equal rights. However, the realist in me sees a major setback for many gay and lesbian couples if this proposition comes to fruition.

No more hate.

Domestic Blowout

I was taking a shower this evening, minding my business in the bathroom with the window slightly cracked to let the cool fall air in. As I got out of the shower, I heard a girl yelling at the top of her lungs to who I assumed was her significant other. While I tried to eavesdrop as much as I can, her fury was making her speech go at thousand miles per minute. Whatever her grievances, it was quite apparent that she was P-I-S-S-E-D. I can only imagine what could've set her off like that, but I'm assuming that it is probably as bad as infidelity.

Not to bring race into the scenario, but both person in this fight were of the same ethnicity, and their fighting style kind of fit with the stereotypes. I actually admire their style, and I might even try to emulate it when I'm completely ticked off. The couple that was fighting tonight could've auditioned for Jerry Springer, and would've probably been able to put on a decent show.

I've heard that healthy relationships have rough spots, and it is natural for people to blow up at each other to let out the valve. If that was the case, the relationship this couple has must be pretty damn healthy, because she let that valve out full force. Maybe this is what I have to look forward to in my serious relationship? If that's the case, I'll enjoy my single life for as much as I can. Quiet and boring as it may be, the solitude can be a good thing.

Dreams are *not* made of these

This week's "This American Life" reminded me of two dreams that I had a few months ago. I normally do not remember dreams for longer than a week, but these were not ordinary dreams. What freaked me out even more was that they occurred in succession of one another.

While I do not recall what I was doing in my dream, I seemed to have suddenly come to an awareness that there was a black cat standing at my leg. This is not out of the norm, as a black cat just like the one in my dream visits the house every day for food (an opportunistic bastard, if you ask me, but that's for another blog post). However, in my dream, the black cat latched on to my leg with its claws, which made me swat at it to get the damn thing off my leg. Much to my detriment, this made the cat more agitated and it started EATING me. As in, chew a piece of flesh from my thigh, and go in for another chew because the first one was apparently so delicious. At this point, I panicked so much that it launched me out of sleep. Heavy breathing, eyes wide open, and ready to go look for that black cat and have a little teriyaki sauce with it.

As if that dream alone was not enough to make me paranoid for a few days, I had another dream the following night.

Again, I do not recall the details preceding the part where I do remember so vividly. All I know is that I noticed a spiral-shaped pattern on my finger underneath the skin. I tried to pick at it, but seeing that it was embedded in my flesh, I had to dig to the point where my finger started bleeding. Odd thing was, I felt the pain in my dream as I could in reality. Then the spiral-shaped object started to heat up like a metal filament in a light bulb. As it got hotter and the filament glowed red, my flesh started burning and by this time, I was in full alarm that it woke me up.

After these dreams, I had a strange suspicion that something was not quite right in my head. Here are the interpretations I found online regarding some of the elements that were observed in my dreams:

Pain
To dream that you are in pain, signifies that you are being too hard on yourself with regards to a situation that was out of your control. It may also be a true reflection of real pain that exists somewhere in your body. Dreams can reveal and warn about health problems.

To dream that you are inflicting pain to yourself, indicates that you are experiencing some overwhelming turmoil or problems in your waking life. You are trying to disconnect yourself from your reality by concentrating on the pain that you inflicted to yourself.


Cat
To see a cat in your dream, signifies much misfortune, treachery, and bad luck. If the cat is aggressive, then it suggests that you are having problems with the feminine aspect of yourself. If a cat is biting you, then it symbolizes the devouring female. Perhaps you are taking and taking without giving. You may be expressing some fear or frustration especially when something is not going as planned.


Blood
To see blood in your dream, represents life, love, and passion as well as disappointments. To dream that you are bleeding or losing blood, signifies that you are suffering from exhaustion or that you are feeling emotionally drained. It may also denote bitter confrontations between you and your friends. Your past actions has come back to haunt you.

None of the information above settled my nerves about the dreams. Perhaps it is better left up to a medical professional to sort out what's going on. Though not quite as traumatic as the dreams I mentioned above, I did have yet another disturbing dream recently. During my disturbed sleep cycle last night, I dreamt that I was observing a female orgy. To a straight man, this might've turned to be a wet dream, but for a gay man, it might as well have been a nightmare.

Please just give me a hit of Ambien or Lunesta.

Mommy has to go to the doctor's...

Being a kid today is not what it used to be. Cell phones, Internet, and reality TV shows did not exist during my early years, and I am quite thankful that they didn't. Jaded as I might be from my own childhood, I think kids today are pretty much doomed in terms of forming healthy social interactions and general outlook towards life. As if the situation wasn't bad enough, now comes a book for children that is written by a doctor "to help patients explain their transformation to their children." Perhaps this is what's becoming the norm for children living in and around Los Angeles and any other parts of the country obsessed with appearances. Mommy looked like herself when she dropped off her kids at school, but by the time they get out, she's wrapped in bandages. And imagine the trauma on kids when they see their mother's face all bruised from the surgery.

Instead of coming out and saying that "mommy has body image and confidence issues," this book seems to give modern parents an easy jail-free card to tell children that they can change whatever they don't like about themselves through some painful and expensive surgery. An estimated 400,000 women have undergone cosmetic surgery in 2007 with young children, according to the publisher. Perhaps the more responsible thing would've been to leave a couple of thousand dollars in their children's college fund, but that's just my lowly opinion that nobody other than my zero readers on this blog will read about.

Alas, the book is sold out on Amazon, and it was only released this past week. If only I came up with the idea first...

Hello Mr. and Mrs. President

This is SO wrong. And yet, I couldn't resist embedding it here because it was so GOOD. I've been on a self-imposed media blackout, mainly because most of the news related to the presidential elections is rarely newsworthy anymore. This was the first presidential election in which I voted, and I felt good about doing my part as a civic citizen, but then I lost my excitement and tuned myself out of all the banter. Plus, it's depressing to see that there are so many people in the country that will support McCain. Out of all the Republican candidates, I thought he was the least threatening. But then I heard some of his comments, and now I just think he's just as bad as the others, just in a different way. If there was a way to fast forward to November, I'd do it in a GranoLA minute.

"Fierce"

To follow up on a previous post about Project Runway, a random thought popped into my mind this week during one of my sleepless nights. Fads and trends are not hard to notice around these parts of HelLA, and that also applies to words and jargons. Trends are often influenced by the worst of all sources, not the least of which includes celebutantes and reality TV shows.

"Fierce" currently seems to be the word-of-the-moment, as Christian's win on Project Runway and his frequent usage of the term has made the expression very modish. It's also pretty gay, which might also explain why I'm now inclined to use the word as many times as possible in a given sentence. Sort of like the modern day "fabulous!" However, "fierce" has been around for a long while in the splendiferous world of gaydom, and Christian only made it mainstream by overusing it on the airwaves.

What other words and expressions have been transplanted into the mainstream language?

• Hot (or haut)
  
• Splendiferous
  
• Tight
  
• Dope
  
• Fo shizzle
  

And many more for sure.

Project Runway

I have been having mixed feeling about Project Runway's winner from last week. Personally, Jillian had a collection that was more realistic and wearable. Aside from my own personal views, I still found the following SNL skit very entertaining.

Car, why are you so selfish?

If my car was a breathing and conscious thing, I'd ask why it has to be so selfish and demand so much money to be thrown at it. Is it not enough that I fork over a couple of bucks per week on gas alone? Maybe I haven't always been good to you. But I've stopped being an abusive owner, and it has been a long while since I went in excess of 90 mph. I do admit I can still be rough when going through Bel Air and the twists/turns of Sunset beckons me to go as fast as the 106 horsepower from your engine would allow me to. But did you really need the new brakes I bought you yesterday? That could've gone into buying a new drivetrain for my bike. Or my airfare for that trip in June I'm planning.

To be completely honest, though, you've been very good to me. You saw me through thick and thin in high school and college. And when you turned 120,000 miles today, I felt nostalgic and sentimental. I might think you're selfish, but I'm also thankful for all the years you've been reliable. Never once did you leave me stranded on the side, and I guess that's why I should continue to drive you for another few more months. I just hope that your replacement will be as nice to me as you have.

Even though I refer to my car as a living being in this post, I have not named it.

I "heart" you

moar humorous pics

How was your Valentine's? My sentiment for V-Day is aptly summarized in the photo above. If it was a living being, then I'd tell it to kiss my ass. Next year, I'm going to throw an angry/bitter/lonely single's party, all for the good cause of giving ol' Valentine a middle finger. Or rather, maybe I should celebrate Singles Awareness Day. Perhaps not to the extent of the Lovers-go-die club, but you get the picture. The trademark for Singles Awareness Day is, ironically, held by two attorneys. While Singles Awareness Day is celebrated on or around February 14th, Singles Day is celebrated in China on November 11th. The symbolism of four "ones" lined up in the date (11/11) never really occurred to me, but I have to give credit to the Chinese cleverness.

I think I gorged on one Twix mini, one Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, three carmel-filled Kisses, and a KitKat bar on the fateful V-Day. What better way to feel even more single when you're grossly overweight and fat?

Aww...

This picture could've been me, except I'd also have a martini glass in the other hand while I talked smack about the neighborhood kids.

But seriously, I'm thankful that every restaurant and bar facilities in California do not permit smoking indoors. I remember when I'd go to the Roseland Theater in Portland and come out not being able to breathe. Don't get me started on smelling like cigarettes after going out clubbing.

Hey, He's That Guy...

I just realized that the guy in Finance can sing. And the thoughts of him serenading me suddenly gushed into my mind. Sadly, I think my coworker Wendy has a better chance with him than I do. That noise you hear crumbling and tearing? Do you hear it? Listen carefully, because that's my heart.

He plays at the Dresden every Sunday, which I might have to go check him out one of these days. Not to be a stalker, but I should hear him live. I'm still finding it hard to believe that the voice in those songs are him. And if Finance guy happens to read this, I can assure you I will not become a groupie.

Speaking of checking out music, I went to go see The Deadly Syndrome last night at The Scene, and I was sorely disappointed. If I'm dragging my ass all the way to Glendale, it better be worth it. And they were not worth the trip. They seemed to be too inebriated to put on a decent show, and did not handle their equipment malfunction with aplomb. Even the band that headlined for them was better. What a waste of good Saturday evening. I should've gone to Vanguard to check out Cedric Gervais. Maybe I'll go to Vanguard next week, when Paul Van Dyk is playing. Yes, the only remedy to a bad night of indie is unforgiving beats of electronic house.

It's Hip to be Cube

Forget being square. Squares are so two-dimensional. Enter the Cube. Nissan Cube, that is.

Before there was the Scion xB, the Nissan Cube stretched the envelope by being smart about space efficiency. And while I already found out from my company that the next generation Cube was coming to the U.S., I can at least make a posting about it since Nissan's global design director has spilled the beans to LA Times.

What makes the Cube very Granola is that it already gets pretty decent fuel economy without a complicated two-mode hybrid system. Imagine, then, a Cube with a hybrid system similar to a Prius. Where the Scion xB has left a void, I'm guessing the Nissan Cube is more than capable of filling it. The xB has grown, or rather bloated, up to where it is today in its 2.4-liter grandeur. It is no longer peppy and miserly with fuel, as the first generation was.

Nissan has a hybrid in the States, and yet most people don't know about it. The Altima Hybrid is also limited to select states, namely California, New York, and a handful of others. Even less know that the hybrid system was licensed from Toyota, since Nissan is still developing their own hardware. However, Nissan will likely have its own eleectric/gas hybrid by 2010, perhaps mated to a vehicle like the Cube. Small on the outside, roomy inside, fuel efficient, and modestly chic-looking? Sign this urban bitch up.

LA gas prices have stabilized somewhat at $3.15/gallon, but I'm guessing that this is only a brief reprieve from what I imagine to be a continued climb to $4/gallon and beyond. Time to reconsider that Prius.

No Mo' Rain, PLEASE

Global warming, El Niño, La Niña, little butterfly in China, whatever the reason it is, Los Angeles has been experiencing some freak weather for the last few weeks. Last week's rain reminded me of living in Oregon, and it did NOT make me feel nostalgic. In fact, the rain is what drove me out of the state to begin with. Earthquakes might not bring Los Angeles down, but unfortunately water falling from the skies counts as a natural disaster. Freeways flooded, SUV's actually had to wade through water, and people did not walk the streets. On second thought, Los Angelinos rarely walk anyway, so ignore the last thought.

One thing that supremely annoyed me was that people do not know how to drive here in the rain. They either drive way too slow, or way too fast. Another thing that annoyed me was that I couldn't bike to work the entire week. The lack of exercise and the gloomy weather did wonders for my mood, which probably showed. If you happened to be exposed to my bitchiness during the week, I truly apologize. I blame it on the weather.

Sunday's forecast: rain. Shit.

Serial Volunteers

At first glance at my Google calendar, I didn't have much hope for the orientation of Heal the Bay to be very interesting. I wasn't terribly jazzed about attending it after a whole day at work, but I was more or less committed to attending it. Jane and I were joking that the attendees will mostly consist of high school students and overly optimistic do-gooders. The crowd did not disappoint our expectations, as we were dead-on.

The leader of the orientation asked what our motivation was and why we were interested in Heal the Bay. Most people gave such generic answers like "I wanted to volunteer." I was very proud of Jane when she responded in her usual cheery manner: "because I like aquariums!" Since she raised the bar on an original answer, I had to one-up it. So I said, "I'm here to see if I can get my company involved." Not humorous, but it sure caught the attention of the organizers. I wanted to turn around to the vegan do-gooders and tell them "take that bitches!" I'm sure they were not amused that a corporate whore was basking in the limelight.

The meeting turned out to be more amusing and educational than I thought. The volunteer coordinator was a little bit too honest at times, saying that the volunteers didn't really need to know that much, and that a "warm body" was all that was needed for some functions. The vegan uber-volunteer showed off his knowledge about local Santa Monica businesses using corn-based plates and plastic utensils. Then there were the overly attentive volunteers who madly took notes on everything the coordinator said. And of course, the high school students who were there for a class project seemed to be more interested in getting a signature from the coordinator than actually listening to the presentation.

I was half-expecting to see pictures of dead fishes or a post-mortem photo of a bird with its stomach's contents laid out (bottle caps, lighters, balloons, etc.). Or maybe even a video of a dying dolphin, hell why not an algae bloom? But the video was optimistic and surprisingly cheerful.

They do their beach clean-ups once a month on the third Saturday. Perhaps Jane and I will participate in these clean-ups one of these days. Preferably when I'm not hung over and ready to keel over. If anybody else is interested, you're more than welcome to join.

Bailey Canyon Wilderness Park

After the torrential downpour from last weekend, the sunny weather made a triumphant return to Southern California this weekend. Except I spent much of it indoors yesterday recovering from a night out in West Hollywood on Friday night. Bright light is never a friend of hung-over souls. To make up for the lost time to spend outdoors, I went hiking with Kathy to Sierra Madre.

The views were pretty decent and there is a small waterfall near the Bailey Canyon trail. I highly recommend going after a good rainfall, as the waterfall is reduced to a trickle otherwise. The trail is also busy, so there is a chance that you might get stuck behind a hiking group, which is modern-day-speak for "dating service." Even though I didn't appreciate the group we were caught behind, I appreciated the group of 3 half-naked men that were descending the trail as we were heading up. For that reason alone, this hike trail was worth it.

If decent-looking men is all it takes to encourage my workouts, I should be able to achieve much of my fitness goals. Why do you think I go to the Rose Bowl Aquatics Center for swimming? The facility is decent, but it is made even better when the water polo team comes out. It is a feast for the eyes, and I'm here to tell you that I gorge at every opportunity.

Damn Hipsters

Silverlake and Los Feliz is typically crawling with hipsters, and I have a general disdain for them because of their self-righteousness and their claim to superiority through utter laziness. Which is why I found the following video particularly amusing. The part about these idiots fumbling with the ATM to check the status of their parents' check got the most chuckle. I personally realized that I could never be a hipster because those jeans are awfully uncomfortable, not to mention that hipsters are enamored with their fixed-gear bikes and I could never ride a fixie.

Hipster Olympics

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A Belated End of Year Recap, Part 1

Dear Reader(s),

I'm humbly apologetic about my laziness to feed you with some Granola goodness. I know I have disappointed my nonexistent readers, and I will try to make amends. In contrary to the lack of new posts on this blog, the time since the past post has been very eventful.

Back in mid-December, I attended my first holiday party at the new company. As opposed to the dowdy place that I formerly called home-away-from-home, this company is a bit more of a lush. This is a bad thing for someone like myself, giving me many opportunities to create embarrassing photo opportunities. Little did I realize in my drunken haze that the flashes I kept on seeing throughout the night was a camera aimed at me and my peeps.

The party was at Union Station, and yes, it is that one with trains and all. To go with the art deco architecture, the company came up with the Speakeasy theme, which called for a dress code that harks back to 1920's. Except nobody on my team dressed up, and neither did I. Laziness aside, our group still had plenty of things to talk about at the office the next business day. For one thing, if there was any question about some of our sexual identities, it was made pretty clear when me and the mo's started dancing together. We made the group proud, as we were the first on the dance floor and the last to leave.

Even though there are many risks of office parties going awry, there were no mortifying incidents to report of. Just lots of things we are sheepishly embarrassed about, with the photos to prove it.