A historical day in D.C.

I saw this on Disgrasian this morning and can I just say that I am positively elated!

It is so refreshing to know that our capital has now recognized same-sex marriages and that 171 couples were able to legally marry to their life partners Wednesday morning.

Even awesome-r? Newly wed couple #3 have to be the cutest Asian lesbian couple I have ever seen!! Gotta represent! Congratulations to all of the newlyweds!

Now I guess my dream of one day marrying Natalie Portman CAN become a reality. ;-)

If I take my heart's advice, you can be sure, I'm still unsteady...

This past weekend's events have become an entire blur with only bits and pieces electrifying through the nerves in my brain to communicate that yes, you did do things this weekend.

For starters on Friday, I was reunited, if only for one night, with my friend Y, who was on her way to Staten Island where she will reside indefinitely (hopefully, for her sake). It was a nice reunion, filled with a night of endless driving, (If anyone were to ever ask me how to get anywhere in the state of Virginia, please do not be offended when I laugh maniacally in your face. Short Code: Virginia's roads are definitely not for lovers, and more explicitly, not for me) girl-talk until the wee hours, several hours of partying and dancing to the sounds of Noel Sanger (who I coincidentally had an impromptu "heart-to-heart" talk with at the end of the night that was pretty cool) and then a very near-crazy 58-mile drive home for myself, alone.

I spent most of the beautiful weather on Saturday inside the confines of my room. Not because I was broke or because there were no plans (And here is where I input yet another apology to K.Hyon for missing out on hanging out in the rays of daylight!), but because my partied-out, old-fart ass was complacently passed out in the thrawls of slumber for several hours - hours only intermittently disturbed by my addiction to YouTube videos and watching reruns of Clean House on the Style Network (Don't deny the powers of Ms. Niecy...seriously).

I was abruptly pulled from this spell by numerous phone calls, one of which was Darren (aka Bathroom Boy) which went as follows:

Me: (sleepily) He...hello?

Bathroom Boy: Dude, what happened to you last night? What are you doing?

Me: (pulling a potato chip out of the bag lying in front of me on top of my comforter) Nothing, I was just lying around, catching up on sleep from last night. And what do you mean what happened to me last night? I was at Snatch. Where were you?

Bathroom Boy: I looked for you - everywhere.
(Note: I hardly believe that he looked EVERYWHERE. Because if he had, in fact, looked EVERYWHERE then he would have inevitably found ME.)

Last night was Christian's birthday, and I stopped by to say hi before heading to Buzz.

Me: Ohh...was that you? I saw some tall black dude with glasses on walking out the door but I figured you'd be at Buzz, so I knew it wouldn't be you.

Bathroom Boy: Well it was, and you missed out. Anyway, so I'll see you tonight.
(Note: That was not a question.)

Me: Wait - what do you mean? See me tonight? Who said I was going anywhere?

Bathroom Boy: No one did. But you're on the guestlist, and it's free before 11...so be there.

Me: Wow, that's very direct and bossy of you. What if I don't want to go?

Bathroom Boy: You don't have to want to go - but you must be there.

Me: Peer pressure, much?

Bathroom Boy: Peer pressure all the way. See you tonight. [Click.]

Five hours later, a trip to downtown Baltimore's Sutton Place to pick up three tag-a-longs and off on 295 I went. I wrangled up enough energy to drive myself to DC, yet again and parked the car.

Ten minutes later, after meeting J.Lo and Ciconte and Dane at the door - we were inside, and down to the main room.

Several hours of dancing, partying, laughing and [will insert another story at a later date here], I was ready to go home, and so were my tag-a-longs. However, my friends had a different plan in mind and within 20 minutes of coersive speech on their part - I found myself in the car, with R and the tag-a-longs driving back to Baltimore to do a drop-off and head my ass as well as R's back to Virginia for a further partying fiasco.

In the end, this weekend was altogether fun, and I am ultimately proud of myself for the way that I held myself this weekend, with all things considered.

This weekend is going to bring lots more pictures, I promise - as I take on the road again towards Pennsylvania to stay with L unni and the Korean sistas for our now monthly "Kimchi Weekend". I can't wait. It'll be really relaxing, and peaceful to just be around people who completely and utterly get you. Plus, throwing a few martinis and a shitload of delicious kimchi and mandu in the mix doesn't hurt either.

ReCoGnIzE! (My Day in DC)

Last week sometime, I was talking with my new female-writer confidant (LP2 is what I'll nickname her, since I already know 1 LP already.) and we had decided quite brilliantly that since we both worked for "governmental jobs" (hers more than mine, to be honest) that allowed us to celebrate the birth of Abraham AND George so luxuriously, it might be fun to check out the new Hip-Hop-infused art exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery in DC. (Seriously, what better way to celebrate the birth of two Presidents than to go back to their political stomping ground?)

I was really looking forward to hanging out with LP2 for several reasons:

1. LP2 has to be one of the most amazing writers I've ever read. Anything she writes about, I just have to read. It's ridiculous, honestly. To be completely embarrassing, I have to admit that I will scroll through the comment sections of Racialicious just to read her comments. Why? Because this woman has the ability to speak her mind in intelligent and graceful ways I can't even imagine. In short, I am LP2's biggest fan. (oh yes, LP2, it's totally true.)

2. Something about becoming closer to LP2 as a person rather than a writer, helped me open myself up as a writer again, surprisingly. Talking with her through emails back and forth and such, really reminded me of how much I miss writing and expressing myself. And how much I've been using so many other forms of communication that haven't been as faithful or as effective as writing has been for me in the past. I am just so excited to finally have a tie into writing community again. I felt like I had been pushed out, mainly voluntarily...okay, mostly voluntarily. By pushed out, I guess I mean, me - slowly over time - pulling away from writing because I felt it kept me from the doing of life. But now after all this doing, I'm starting to feel the only way for me to truly own it, and love it, is to reflect and write. And it's just great to be surrounded by people who get the same satisfaction, like LP2.

3. We were going to see a fricken' art exhibit, for chrissakes! How awesome/fantastical/amazing/brilliant/spectaculicious is that?! I hadn't been to a true art exhibit in years, unless you count that one time that that guy who was really into this scathingly bad art forced me to go to this tattoo-parlor-turned-art-studio with lots of men and women dressed in fancy clothes, drinking cheap champagne out of plastic wine glasses while walking around staring at photos of girls in their underwear with gag balls in their mouths and said "How extraordinary and deep! I'll buy FIVE!" ...so I hadn't really been to an art exhibit at all... in a LONG time.

4. This would ultimately be my (Count it!) 2nd time driving to DC by myself, in the daylight. You know, that little thing called sunshine where you're able to see your hand in front of your face without squinting really hard beyond the laser lights and the darkness and whatever trippy lighting effects you can think of? It was fantastic to be driving, especially on a random day where the weather was perfect 60 degrees outside! I literally rolled my windows down as soon as I hit 295, and turned the air conditioning on because the sun was so warm and delicious. I was excited to finally be getting out of the house, and driving to DC for a quick adventure. Not that I haven't been out of the house at all in the past few months (if you've been reading this and other blogs, you'll notice I have!) but this was just a little different. No familiar faces, no particular event that I was time-constrained to. I just knew eventually LP2 and I would go to the National Portrait and eventually we'd get so annoyed with the growling of our stomachs that we would succumb and gobble food to tell it to shut up.

Once I got into DC off New York Ave, I recognized where I was completely - it seems like anywhere and everywhere that I have spent oodles and oodles of my time has been off of New York Ave. The only thing about heading that way was worrying about the traffic, which wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be - possibly because I kept forgetting that it was a government holiday, and literally everything, save for the galleries and exhibits, on Pennsylvania Avenue was shut down for the day.

I just had to find parking. Ugh. If there is one thing that I have to say that I hate about having a car is getting to the place and then having to roam around for an hour to find parking. Because every one knows that all the cool places; ie: the only places that you and your friends want to go, are located in areas where there is NO PARKING and you have to find parking on some back alley or do "creative" parking - like parking just past the sign that is marked "No Parking ---> This Way Between 4-7 pm" claiming later when you get the ticket, "Well, half of my car was in the safe parking zone, doesn't that count?"

So I drove around. And around. I finally called Oppa out of desperation.

"Oppa, I am on Pennsylvania Avenue and I can't find parking anywhere."

"Uh? It's a holiday, EJ - you should be able to find parking easily. I suggest you try to park around the mall," my brother said over the phone, "How long are you here for? Will you call to have dinner with me and Esther later?"

"I'll try, I don't know how long I'll be here. I am checking out that new art exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery. I'll call you later regardless, though."

After driving around several times in a square-shaped circle, and finding absolutely no free parking spaces, I finally gave in and turned into the nearest "Parking Garage Here" sign I saw. Thankfully it was at the International Trade Center, where they are equipped to deal with idiots like me who for the life of me even though the parking lot probably has fifty-seven signs showing me that I parked on C-2, when I finally go to get back to my car, I walk around aimlessly for fifty minutes, going on every single level and not having a damned clue where I parked.

But this parking lot was awesome. Instead of numbers, it had countries to designate what floor you parked on. How could I forget that I parked on Floor Russia? I could easily forget something arbitrary like C-3 or D-4, but Russia? Hell no. I'll remember that sucker.

I finally met up with LP2 after walking to the wrong damned gallery and having to turn around. There was some kind of mad-hatter accident or something, and halfway along my walk they had to detour across three more blocks just to get to a block I was originally only a few steps away from. Bah.

But ReCoGnIzE! was awesome. One of the most amazing things were the paintings by Kehinde Wiley. Absolutely off-the-CHAIN! Take a portrait of Napoleon, add a little Ice-T to the mix, and Boom! What a masterpiece. The depth of the colors and the shadows, and just the entire composition was breath-taking, and something that I can't wait to go back to and check out again (I am going again in March if anyone is interested).

LP2 and I had a great time, overall. We perused the gift shop, and gave in to temptation by purchasing the photo booklet of the exhibit (It was only $10!!! C'mon!!) and then headed towards Chinatown to pick up some grub.

That was around the time that it started to rain. And LP2, being the street-stepper and "urban-dweller" that she is, came prepared with an umbrella. My stupid ass, had not.

So after grabbing some grub and some MUCH NEEDED intelligent conversation (LP2, you astound me with your little book of what you have to do's and whatnots, you go girl!) we escaped over to Urban Outfitters so I could buy a hat to shield me from the rain.)

While there, we started talking about music. Mainly because when we first walked into the store, LP2 remarked that the singer they had playing in the background sounded like Rachel Yamagata. Which is exactly what I thought to. And then we started to say, I can't believe you know that person, and oh my gosh, yes, I have my MP3 player right here with me, let's stand in front of the aisle and play music for each other despite people walking all around us!!!

Good times, I tell you.

Alas, the day had to come to a close, and LP2 gave me a big hug and off I went to go and try to find the International Trade Center. Remember how I mentioned that I would not forget what floor I parked on? Well, I didn't, I wouldn't have lied to you. But what I did manage to forget, or rather, lose somehow was my parking ticket. And with that, my ability to find my sense of direction as to where I had come from in the first place. Fantastic. I spent an hour just walking in the rain, asking mothers ushering their children under big umbrellas, "Which way to 13th St?" and men who were jogging with their visors on to catch the raindrops, "Do you know how far it is to Pennsylvania Ave from here?" Thank God people in DC tend to be pretty friendly.

Thanks for making my day off an exciting one, LP2, and we'll definitely have to do this again, real soon.

I promise to have more posts up soon, particularly two involving a special person's birthday, and a "terrible schmelting accident".

DAY ONE: Getting off my lazy ass

Please don't ask me why, but for some reason (and thank goodness for whatever it was) in the early peaks of sunlight this morning, while slipping my body away from the comfort of the warm covers to enter the sharp cold air of my bedroom, I hit an epiphany.

EJ, my subconscious whispered to me in my sleepy stupor, you should pack work-out clothes for lunch time.


Thus, for whatever Force possessed me, I walked out of the house this morning with the now unfamiliar feeling of my gym bag strap pressing diagonally against my chest. Contents: A bottle of water, gym sneakers, my comfy Puma black track pants, and matching tank and some sport socks.


I don't know why I thought today would be a good day to start back at the gym, but in the end, I am glad that I did.

Once 11:45 am rolled around, I glanced at the clock, hoping that somehow it'd motivate me to get my lazy ass up off the chair. And then I made the announcement to my coworker over in the next cubicle (Anyone who has ever worked in a cubicle environment understands that there somehow or other is an unspoken bond between you and one of the cubicle mates around you, mine just happens to be right next to me.) that I was to go to the gym.

"Really?! Are you joking? The gym?!" she exclaimed.


Her tone embarrassed me. Okay, okay, people, I've been slacking. Hardcore. But it felt like with my hair, also went my energy. That's not the case now, but it was at one point.

"Yeees," I answered slowly, "yes, I plan to go to the gym in the next few minutes."

"It's been a couple months since you've been hasn't it?"

Wow, okay. Even worse when someone other than John Basedow, Jr. notices and makes comment of you not having gone to the gym in a while. The scene and motivation was set now. I was committed. I had to go to the gym now to prove all these people I could. That, and prove to myself.


I walked into the familiar sights, sounds and smells of the gym. Walked into the dressing room and was immediately greeted by a familiar face. When I used to work out everyday before I lost the hair, I had become friends with a lot of people I'd see everyday there. The workers, the gym-goers, everyone. But particularly this lady, A. She works in my building actually, and is absolutely the sweetest person you want to meet. When I first met her, she had told me she started going to the gym to get back into shape. She was probably the most committed, and determined person out of all the people at the gym, besides the older lady that I always see that looks tighter than the Abs Made Simple video.

She asked me where I had been since it'd been awhile since she had seen me.

I explained to her that I had taken a little hiatus from working out - mostly from depression and sadness in the beginning, but in the end, it turned out all right - leading to a peaceful inner me and a better handle on my inner strength and capabilities. All the fun stuff you've been reading about here.

Once I began to tell her about the alopecia, I removed my ski hat to reveal my shaved head.

"Well, it looks great," A said, "you have a beautiful face anyway."

"Thanks." (I never know what to say when people say this to me. I take to feeling the redness in my cheeks settle in and I smile and just nod my head and offer a quick, "thanks")

The rest of my workout went rather fast. I grabbed an elliptical and A grabbed one right next to mine. We talked about everything from Christmas shopping, to her by-pass surgery, to her new diet, to even trying to get her husband out for exercise. Within 45 minutes, we had both run about two miles a piece and didn't even feel like we had run anything at all.

"I am so glad that I ran into you today, EJ," A said, offering me a hug.

"No, no...hey, thank YOU for running into me here. My first day back went a helluva lot better than I expected because of you." And I meant it.

I am a full believer that things happen for a reason, and going there today and feeling like I was truly missed by people I wasn't even sure had acknowledged my existence every day at the gym before...it really helped to solidify all the reasons in my head that I had had about how good it was going to be getting back into working out again. I feel like a million bucks after that run, too.

I am so behind...

I know, I know people... my birthday has gone and passed, and what's worse? Three people have blogged birthday wishes for me on my actual birthday... way before I even got to do the same thing!!

Blah, I will get to it eventually. 'Tis the season to keep your sanity cap on tightly, brave those massively packed mall corridors and purchase gifts for every Tom, Dick, Jane and Harry that you know (I know more guys than girls, what can I say?) and hurry your ass home so you can wrap them all up with nice paper and ribbon, etc., etc., etc...

It might sound like I am a bit "bah humbug-ish" but really, I do love this time of season sans the damn Christmas carols! I love going out and buying gifts for all my close friends and family, and wrapping them up, and then seeing the surprised faces and happy faces all over the place.

But this year is different. I am just not ready. At all. It's bad when John Basedow, Jr has totally and fully completed his X-mas shopping and I have still five or six people to buy for...that's bad. Why? Because I specifically remember several years being spent going out the day before X-mas to help him buy gifts for everyone. It was fun, but I was glad it was him that was behind and not me. And now, it's me. Revenge has reared its ugly, nasty head.

So I guess that's why this year's holidays hasn't been as pleasant as it should be for me. And it should be tons pleasant. Mainly because I can drive myself ANYWHERE and EVERYWHERE to go X-mas shopping. Which, might I add, I have been. I am loving it, and have grown to love driving more and more each day - except for parallel parking...that's not something I love at all.

Alas, though, I haven't forgotten to write about my birthday. I love all that were able to make it out to celebrate - it made my year to see all those happy faces. And a great big love to all those who couldn't, just 'cause you weren't there doesn't mean that I didn't feel your love in other ways this year. I have been completely blessed with everything that I have overcome this year - and all of the friendships that I have that have grown stronger, and new ones that I am excited are just beginning... and just all the wonderful growth that I feel that I have made for myself, personally - even though the times were tough and sometimes ugly - I feel that I have come out a better person, a more confident woman, and I am finally for the first time in my life loving almost everything about myself - and learning to accept the things about myself that I can't change and don't necessarily love all that much. And that's okay.

I promise, pictures, pictures people. I really promise. But hey, I am in a procrastinating mood recently. I just registered for class last night on my laptop in an oversized t-shirt that I got for free from the Irish Festival last year and my comfy brown robe with a cup of hot chocolate listening to the rain beat against my bedroom window... God, it felt so amazing to be lazy. But I knew I had to register soon or die. DIE, I tell you! I still have to go to school later on this week and argue the fact that my financial aid is not showing up on the system to cover my registration from being cancelled. Nothing ever works out like a piece of cherry pie for me... but that's what makes life so interesting with me.

I also promise, more thought provoking posts later on...I have been writing in my journal more and more, reunited my music roots back to John Mayer's "Any Given Thursday" and Radiohead's "Pablo Honey" and cried, and explored my inner workings... and have lots of mind-tittilating subjects that I have feasted my mind on to share with all of you.

***Quick Shout-out to Ms. PT & Jolee*** Thanks for "forcing" me out on Friday night, and "forcing" me to celebrate my belated birthday with you two, and "forcing" me to go to 1722 and talk with the meathead in the back lounge area so I could be your "guy friend" that night. Haha. Have fun in Taiwan, Ms. PT and Jolee, you know I am there for you no matter what.

I Can Drive! I Can Drive!!

Current Count:

Cons
1. slight minor bump into the side of the road, onto the curb, that I was afraid had ruined the alignment on my car.

2. Got lost a whole 3 times going to various places within the past week. Two of which I had to phone those I was headed to to get the final directions and find where exactly the hell I had found myself and the one time I was able to find my way home without any trouble at all - granted I don't know how I got where I eventually found myself, but the final result is that I made it home.

Pros
1. For one I have been able to visit friends I haven't seen in AGES. Which is always an awesome thing. I love seeing everyone, and catching up. It's nice.

2. Although J was sort of concerned that I might not be able to remember the way to Blockbuster in Timonium, or be able to navigate my way back - I insisted that I would be okay...and whatdoyaknow? I was perfectly fine! I had to drive all the way back York Rd to Towson to get onto Perring Pkwy and take the beltway there (because that's what I was familiar with even though I knew it was out of the way and a longer route) and I got home with no worries.

3. I drove all the way to DC!! Granted J was in the car with me, and I was following D - but still, I have to give it up to me, because going a little above the speed limit has freaked me out recently - due to the fact that I am just still getting used to driving again.

4. I drove BACK to Baltimore from LP's and D's house all by myself...following J... which I tell you, at 4 AM is not particularly easy. Especially cuz I was sleepy, tired, worn out from dancing, etc. But I made it. Although my parallel parking job was crooked, I could've cared less when I got home.


Now it's back to work - I have class tonight but I am soo exhausted. It's funny how just going out a few times in a weekend really wears you out to the core. I am so so so tired, and ready to take a 100-year nap.

PS. I went to LP's "Slumber Party" Saturday night - totally had a GREAT time...more on that later.

AND - I have decided that I want to register for AUTOCROSS this Spring! I told J that I am totally ready - and can't wait to go and have fun!!

Music I Love Driving To

I have found that through my driving travels - there are certain types of music that just fit while driving that I love. The kind of music that fits perfectly with just cruising along the roads, whether it be during the day or late at night.

So I have dedicated this blog post to me writing down all the songs that I have fallen in love with again while being in my Corolla.

1. All 80's love ballads. Jeeeesus Christ, as corny and as goober as half of these songs are, the most brilliant song writing occurred in the 80's. Point blank and simple. I mean, c'mon... Spandau Ballet? Boy Meets Girl? Anyone?

2. RENT The Musical Soundtrack (Disc 1 and 2) I don't care who you are or what you think - this music is fantastic and I could sing "Light My Candle" till I am blue in the face.

2.5. Okay, you know what? I take the above statement back and replace it with ALL musical soundtracks. I'm sure the guy at the traffic light on Route 40 thought I was strange singing "Defying Gravity" at the top of my lungs with the windows down.

3. Justin Timberlake's "Justified". Particularly "Take A Ride" track. I LOVE that track!

4. Shivaree "Half On A Baby" (THANK YOU GOOSE~!!!!) If you like R. Kelly, this will make you think twice when you hear how f&cking awesome this girl sounds covering his song.

5. Jurassic 5 "Feedback" album. (Thank you to my favorite "black kid", Jos)

6. Ernie Halter's "Congress Hotel" - I think of his song "Love, Look At Me Now" as my eternal scream out to the world. I love his acoustic sound - and it's a nice raw melody to help keep time while you're on the road.

7. Amos Lee - Anything by Amos Lee. My God, one of the most serene things to do is to be moving - whether it be by bus, by car, by train, and to listen to Amos Lee at high levels - what a peaceful place to be in. I would always nestle into a corner of the train from DC to MD and listen to my Amos Lee playlist on my iPod over and over and over and over again.

8. John Mayer - "Heavier Things" The entire album. Particularly "New Deep".

9. Radiohead - ANYTHING. Ahhh, totally puts me in that zone. Thinking deep, feeling the music, and just me and the road.

10. Okay, K-Pop...alright? I'll admit, I still have my old H.O.T. CD, and my old G.O.D. CD - and yes, okay, I still listen to Brown Eyes and BoA. But I am totally stuck in the 90's when it comes to Korean music. The last album I bought was 5tion's first debut album...yes, I'm that behind with the Korean times.

Just to blog...

I keep putting off my Taxi Cab Confessions Series - I know, procrastination and laziness doesn't look good on anyone, but I have been too busy perusing the streets, filling with the exhilarating rush that comes with watching the pavement roll underneath with each passing mile...

Yes, I have been driving. Where to? Places. I have been careful not to ring up too many miles in the short time that I have had my beautiful baby, however, I have come into some slight minor bumps along the way (Several years without driving will make a person go crazy, and go apesh*t to the point where I have temporary amnesia on how basic functions work. But mind you, these bouts of memory lapse last all of about two seconds. Too bad two seconds is all it takes to bump into someone/something, etc. etc.)

I promise, more decent blogging to come. Lots more exciting things are going to happen in my life. I just feel it.

My birthday is in about two weeks! And then Christmas! The only good part about Christmas is the giving. I love watching people's faces when I give them gifts. It's probably one of the best sights of life that I'd have to say make it all worth it in the end.

The Most Beautiful View In The World

This has been my view of the world for the past week and a half. And what a gorgeous sight it is -- the dashboard of my 2008 Toyota Corolla.

For this Thanksgiving, I have been most thankful more than anything for the most amazing people that I have been blessed to have in my life. Friends who love me, care for me, and make sure that I am taken care of....Friends who made this possible this year:

So thank You for friends (family):

for cars, for left foot accelerators, for poetry, for blogs, for freedom, for crummy jobs that help pay the rent and put food on the table, and for sunsets:

A Great Weekend!!!

(I have been behind in my blogging duties to myself so bear with me.)

Thursday Night (of last week): Made sure to leave work right at 5 pm to get over to FFCU on Bel Air Road. (Because that's the location that my coworker, Code Name: F. Sanchez used to work at and had given me a friendly connect by being able to drop her name there.) Once I got there, I nervously sat and waited for someone to call on me in the line. What about credit unions made me think of them as forbidden secret societies? As if the word "union" constituted that I must work at a place where I get a special secret coded name tattooed on my ass and a name badge that had access into government facilities. And then, one day, while conversing with Code Name: F. Sanchez about car loans, she informed me that I, little ole me, could hold an FFCU account. Is it because of my newly G.I. Jane haircut that made me a formidable opponent as a secret agent (if not for skill, just for the mere fact that it has made me look like one tough motha sucka)? Or could it be the fact that I know her, Code Name: F. Sanchez and she is part of their covert society based on former FFCU workers who meet and have lunch at some posh restaurant every Thursday?

Alas, no, it is because I am a student, she tells me. A God-damn student?! What's so effing special about that? It's THAT easy to be a member of FFCU? Well, Jesus, I thought, I should go in and apply for a car loan.

And that's just what I did. And I was told that I would have to wait for the response. (which I received and will talk about in another post in the near future, if I ever get my ass back on blog schedule.) What bugged me the most was that my mother showed up at the last minute. Now, understand, she had to show up sooner or later because she was my ride, but she sat there so quietly, not asking any questions, even though the whole point of her being there was for her to ASK QUESTIONS. My God! I guess she forgot to put that on her list of things to do.

Friday: God, I wanted this day to be over so badly. Not just because I was excited about going to see Carl Cox @ Buzz (which I was) but because my week had been ridiculously packed with endless projects, and never ending piles of financial yada and bullshit. The more and more I stay at the this job, the less respect I have for people who have money and flaunt it. I can't tell you how many times in the past week I have had customers keep me on the phone, complaining about how much money they have and how much they had to spend in cash for their $22.6 million home in Milan. Blah, blah, blah.

Friday night: I rushed home from work and immediately tried to clean up my room, get my laundry done and get into my costume for the party. I was going as a schoolgirl. I even bought the sexy pantyhose that only come up thigh-high. Oh yeah, baby. But then I realized at the last minute that I had gotten rid of my black boots and only had brown ones to wear. Well, that wouldn't work. But I didn't really have time to worry about that. J was to be over any minute (close to 8) and I wanted to have the place cleaned up from my work week (because I have a tendency to throw things everywhere during the work week because I come home too exhausted to do anything but sleep) so that he had a place to nap. By this time, as exhausted as I felt, I was too filled with excitement for the party - and I was up and raring to go.

He showed up close to 9. Collapsed on my bed, and the sucka was out like a light. And despite my award-winning cleaning skills, I had failed to get the text that he had sent just minutes before telling me that we probably weren't staying at my place this weekend. All that work for nothin'. Well, at least the room looked pristine to my satisfaction for the most part.

I had the TV running while he was sleeping and I decided to finish getting dressed. Now was the time to focus on the fact that I didn't have matching boots. So after trying different variations, I finally gave up and just threw on a pair of jeans, and a black laced tank top and a black hat and a matching sweatshirt and was done. I put my make-up on and then checked the time. It was close to 11.

I woke up Sleeping Beauty and we were off. And of course, like always, while I was sitting in the car driving there I started to get sleepy - meanwhile, J got wide awake. So by the time we got there, I was exhausted again and he was energized like the pink bunny.

God, was it fun!! I got to see D - who hadn't seen the G.I. Jane look yet. He pulled me aside and admitted to me that he was never worried from the start - due to my "great bone structure" I think is what he said. It was really loud - but then he pulled away and motioned towards my cheek bones, so I think that's what he meant. I love that my guy friends are the kinda dudes that pay attention to things such as "great bone structure". It really meant a lot to me. He kept telling me that it looked great. Probably because D knows I am the type of person that needs to be told a bazillion times.

J got to see his friend J-man. Although J-man's friend was gettin' a little frisky with me. It was flattering in the beginning - you know, the kind words, the look up and down. You ladies know what I'm talking about! Especially when you're not feeling like you have your A-game on (I mean, yes, I took the hat off for the whole night, so it was the first night out as G.I. Jane in a club) and some dude says you're hot. That's always nice to know. But not when they come from behind and get all freak-a-leek on the sides of your body and then crouch down low like they are in a constipated squat trying to press their face close to your booty. Oh, hell no. Not cool.

D caught it though. D saved me! He went to J-man and told J-man I was his sister, and I was kinda "involved with someone" and I didn't want to be touched like that. That was pimp, D, very pimp of you. Much appreciated, my friend.

There was some other creep later on with some massively large and seizure-infested lit glow sticks that was running around and then trying to hit on me and Esther-unni while we were sitting on one of the blocks. J saved us then. Yay J!!!

I was happy to run into Eugene and Kuya EARL!!! Even though Kuya Earl was f*cked up, he recognized me and rubbed my head "for good luck". Asked me how I was doing, and gave me a big big hug. He told me all about what was going on with his family as he always does. I felt like I was part of that family at one point - so he knows I still care. Until he gets to Corp. He suddenly said that Corp was in the market to buy a house in Towson. He started working for Sinai as some sort of respiratory something and had been asking about me. Kuya said he didn't know because he didn't know. J is convinced that Corp is trying to find me. I don't think so ... I think he gave up on me a long time ago - just like I gave up on him before that. Regardless, it was nice seeing Kuya - even though this is the upteenth time I have seen him out WITHOUT a girl!! Hmm... (I have my thoughts about that)

Ohhhh, before I finish Friday night's expo - I gotta point out one thing that really GROUND MY GEARS!! This dumbass piece of no-good white trash of a bouncer (I don't know your name, and you better be so glad I don't) that works at Buzz... for the past few times that I have gone there, he has always been the one who checks my ID. So when he checks it, and I get up there, he takes the ID and he stands there for a good two minutes - moving his eyes from the card, to me, to the card, back to me. Giving me this "I'm a bad ass motha f&cka" look with these piercing eyes and these pursed lips. The first time it happened, I got scared. Second time, annoyed. Third time, pissed off. This time? I looked this motha f&cka right in the eye. IN THE EYE. Try to tell me that's not me, stupid ass. So I shaved my head, bitch - go get some glasses. I didn't have any plastic surgery. It's the same person. Grrrrrr!!! Then he has the audacity to ask me "Do you have any cards on you with the same name?" WTF?! You want my passport? You want to check if I am a legal citizen while you're at it? Grrrrrr!!! I showed him my credit card and then he finally let me in. That bastard... I swear. One more time and I will probably be banned from the club forever for kicking the living shit out of him.

Saturday day/night: Right after Buzz, we all left together. Gen-Gen begged me and J to come to his place (because we didn't go the last time) so we headed over there with the code to his garage door. When we got there, Gen-Gen asked us to take Elvis (his puppy) out. In the rain. In the cold. At 3 or 4 in the morning. Yeaaaahhh...

We did, but Elvis only seemed to want to piss. So we went back inside and waited for Gen-Gen. Thirty minutes pass by - no Gen-Gen. This is where it gets hazy for me. I know we were there for what seems like a while. I remember laying on Gen-Gen's comfy white couch and collapsing... I remember seeing the dog jumping all over the place and J sitting in the chair adjacent to me. How long we were there, I have no clue. J said I started talking inaudibly again...hehehe. Oh well. We all have our moments.

Finally, I just remember J grabbing my hand and telling me we were getting out of there because Gen-Gen was never coming after all.

The rest of the night was AWESOME!! It was just great to hang out with J and be goofy, retarded people. Talk about everything and anything, sing karaoke until we have no voices left, listen to music and make commentary... (he still won't let me live up that damn discussion we had about Irony) it was just really relaxing.

Sunday: I woke up wishing it were Saturday and that weekend wasn't over. But it was Sunday, and we were too tired to do anything but lay in bed, eat something, and then go back to sleep. We did stop at Target really quick so we could pick out a gift for lil Drew. I told him to buy the Duplo (because what kid doesn't like Legos?) but J was thrown off by the fact that the set came with a Duplo cat and he insisted that we not make Drew "sissy"...so instead, we opted to get some some mini cars and trucks (which J dubbed as "manly"). I was so impressed with J's coordinating skills!! He got a blue bag and then got a card that said Happy 2nd Birthday with a dump truck on it! (I am sucker for wrapping gifts with a unified theme and I guess it rubbed off.)

J dropped me off at home, and he headed to the party. I saw the pics on LP's site - looked sooo cute!!! I collapsed in bed, and then woke up to work on Chemistry. And then found that my phone was seriously missing. J called me at work later on to let me know I had left it in his car.

W.W.S.O'.C.W.?

Since my entrance into the world of 15-minute showers and Chia-pet fuzz, life has been fantastic.

Despite my initial disappointment that the shaved head didn't increase my walking speed just by sheer removal of weight, (hey, you know, hair can be heavy. Weight transfer applies to cars - why can't it apply to humans?) I have had this sudden boost of self-confidence, and feel so incredibly lifted and at ease. At this point, I don't think it will make a huge difference with me whether my hair continues to grow or whether the growth stops here. I feel like I've gained my old-self back and it's such a f*cking amazing feeling.

When I look back at just a few months ago, sitting up at T & S's till the early morning, and being so terribly frightened of losing all my hair, and then I look at the me now, it's like a huge transformation. The thing I was scared of the most in the beginning ended up being the one thing that has placed me back on the high self-esteem map!

So I got this new look, and along with it this encouragement to wear make-up every day. (Where before when I left the house and was feeling lazy I would throw my hair into a ponytail and not worry about my face at all. Maybe if you were lucky you'd see me at around noon taking out my eyeliner and smudging a line in my cubicle mirror with an added finish of lip gloss.)

In addition to the added interest in make-up and experimenting with funky colors, I suddenly realized that my old wardrobe of T-shirts and jeans doesn't jive with this haircut at all.

At this revelation, I find myself asking the age old question:

W.hat W.ould S.inead O'. C.onnor W.ear?

This T-shirt and jeans thing just isn't cutting it. Or perhaps I am just coming up with the best damn excuse ever to reward myself with a shopping spree for new clothes for the new 'do.

I feel like my Chia-pet fuzz is whispering fashionista advice in my ear in the morning.

"No, no, don't wear that God awful two-year old blouse from the Gap...who wears that now? I refuse to look good with that shirt. How bout you try that nice brand new Benetton fuschia cashmere sweater you bought last week? You know I look fabulous in cashmere."

Damn, never knew my Chia-pet fuzz was going to have such great taste in fashion.

I love Dr. B and all but...

I AM SO HAPPY THAT I DON'T HAVE TO SEE HIM (medically, at least) FOR TWO MONTHS!!!!!

How freakin' awesome is that? Once I took the wig off, and showed him how much progress my hair growth has been making - he even said that he was super happy with the Dritho-scalp and the results.

The attending today was kind of a dick. I don't know - it seemed like he would ask me a question and then look more at Dr. B than at me...which kind of irked me a little bit but hey, those attendings can't all be winners!!!

It doesn't matter anyway - the "dick" agreed with Dr. B and I that my hair was definitely growing back and that I should continue on the Dritho-scalp.

Dr. B asked me how long I had been leaving it on for (since the last time they had seen me they told me to try to leave it on for up to two hours). I kind of confessed that I had done some experimenting on my own and had pretty much been leaving it on my head for 4+ hours and just sleeping with a hair cap on my head with the medicine all on my scalp. I figured that it wasn't irritating my scalp to the point of no return, and why not leave it on for the maximum amount to see if it works any faster? I guess it did!! (hehe)

So the end result is: keep doing what I'm doing and they will see me back in two months!! YAY!!!!!!

Day One of Wig-Wearing Under My Belt

I had started to write this blog entry last night after my Chem lab, but a kid whom I had met several years ago during my first year at CCBC grabbed me to start talking. Apparently, he never forgot me, even with a wig on my head.

So yesterday was my first day in wig-wearing glory. The night before was when I had purchased it from the wig store on Taylor & Loch Raven (The one that everyone who I had talked to always raved about.) which turned out to be a very less emotional experience the second time around.

Ever since that first time in the wig shop, I had realized that I wasn't fully ready as much as I thought I was. I don't think that I had fully accepted who I was without the wig, even though I truly thought I had moved on from that, until I hung out at my friend Scott's house a couple weeks ago.

Scott is a DJ. Well, he just started and his first "true" gig was at XS the other night. So I tagged along with a group of people to show some support. After the restaurant closed, we decided to head over to Scott's house to have some food and some mojitos.

This was the first time that these guys would see me the closest I have ever been to being bald. And what was even cooler was that previously that night, when Jolee came to pick me up from my house, I just ran down the steps with no hat on, with nothing to answer the door.

I don't know what compelled me to do that, but I was really glad that I had. I think it was just time. That and a high disregard for not having enough time to put a hat on. Irregardless of what the reasons were behind it, if any, I answered that door with my dome completely exposed.

I think half way through my walk up the steps once they started to follow me into the house it hit me that I was bald and I felt my heart skip a beat. But by that time I had already committed myself - so I just went with it.

It felt so incredibly freeing. I mean I have read so many posts from people talking about how they revealed their bald heads to the world - and how it felt so freeing but I never thought I'd ever feel it to the extent that I felt it. It was like freedom had come to fruition.

So it wasn't any surprise that later on, while at Scott's house, I suddenly just lifted the hat off my head - and sat there on the couch, continuing on my conversation with Godfather Sage - with no hesitation whatsoever.

And that was it - that was the point where I knew it was time to get the wig. I know it sounds sort of backwards really, why would I be getting a wig just now as I am becoming completely comfortable with being bald? Why cover up that free feeling?

Well because when I first went to the wig store that's exactly what I was doing. Covering up my embarrassment. My shame, my horror, my fears, and my sadness. That wig was doing everything that I was too scared to do - to just face my fears and the truth of it all and embrace it. That's why it wasn't time. That's why I was so consumed with sadness and emotional turmoil.

But now that I am free. Now that I know I am comfortable with being bald - just walking around my house, going to sleep, taking out the trash, exercising - now that I know that, I can now go to the wig store and buy that wig because I WANT to, not because I feel I NEED to. A wig is not something a person should NEED. It should be something a person should WANT. And that's what I wanted to feel. That's what made it the right time for me. Because I knew at that point, the wig wasn't going to hide anything that I hadn't already come to accept. The wig is my play time, my fun time... it is my ability to express that inner crazy self that leaps out in so many other ways - why can't wig wearing be one of them, too?

Baby Steps

Saturday did not turn out how I had expected. It ended up that very early in the morning I realized that I had misplaced the bag that held my Anthralin and now had to retrace my steps. The bag had to be somewhere between my work on Friday, the quick stop at my apartment and then finally, my parents' house.

Once the first half of the morning was spent running a rampage through my parents' house with no success, I realized it had to either be my place or at work. I was praying for it to be at my place.

So I had my father drive me over, and I ran up the steps, trying to focus, trying to find that bag. Nope, no bag. But I grabbed another outfit to wear (since I was wearing sweats and I was headed to a study group later on at 1 pm @ Barnes and Nobles) and headed out the door.

That left the last place: my office. I've never been there on a Saturday - much less a Saturday morning. It's quite boring - and walking into the building left a weird feeling. There was so much silence, such a sense of emptiness that I felt - as if during the week the building's walls had been so pregnant with the full bustle of workers, diners at Della Rose's and customers perusing the spa on the 3rd floor and suddenly, once 5 pm Friday evening hit, the building was quickly emptied. Just like that. It felt like a foreign country - my sneaker steps echoing against the marble - and I suddenly noticed that three quarters of the main lobby were still unleased.

Well, I found my medicine. Thank God the security guard at the desk recognized me. I had taken my work badge just in case there might be trouble, but I also knew that it probably wouldn't do me any good anyway since all employee badges are programmed with timed access. (I had found this out one morning when my ride had to drop me off at 6 AM and I was unable to get into my office. I had a nice time sitting propped up against the wall until 7 AM rolled around.)

The security guard said that it was his day off, but he had been asked to come in anyway. I told him I just needed to grab my medicine, and that I thought I had left it in one of the drawers of my cubicle. I'm glad he went with me though - I tried to scan my badge at the door first, and it wouldn't let me in.

Medicine in hand, I ran out to the car, and headed back to my parents' house to take a shower and at least get ready for the study group. I desperately need this study group if I even want to stay afloat in this class.

The study group was set up to be at 1 pm. By 2 pm, I came to the conclusion that it had to have been cancelled and I had just not gotten the memo. When I tried to call my other classmate (the girl who put the study group together) her phone had been turned off. Awesome. I called the other classmate and he called me back to let me know that work had called him in at the last minute and he needed the extra money. I understand that.

I tried to study as much as I could by myself, but technically, the whole point of having a study group is so that you can feed off of each other's notes, and other people's knowledge on the concepts that you don't understand. When there are no other persons that kind of defeats the purpose.

I went searching through the self-help, self-teaching books in the science section and grabbed a copy of Chemistry for Dummies. It helped to a point - but at that point, my stomach was growling, and I had lost all interest and focus on trying to finish the homework that was due on Monday. Besides, I was finding it much more exciting to eavesdrop on the conversation occurring two tables over.

There was a woman dressed in what looked like flowery purple drapes. They looked satin from where I sat, but at any rate, they at least appeared soft. She had dark brown hair, below the shoulder, and had a pair of designer sunglasses on her head. Beneath the table, her matching purple toenails were exposed, and she was lightly sipping on her coffee while flipping through a notebook that she had laid out before her.

Suddenly, it seemed like out of nowhere, a couple appears in front of her and they are shaking hands and smiling cordially - but nervously. A first meet, no doubt.

The couple sits down at the woman's table and she begins speaking matter-of-factly. I think that's what intrigued me was her ability to speak with almost no pause, with so much factual tone - it was friendly but professional.

"I know you saw me from my website. You were the ones who emailed me. And I assume that you've had a chance to view the site and see all of the services that I offer. Were you able to check out the photo gallery? Those pictures have been from the past few years of my experience and should give you an idea as to what to expect from me," she said, while flipping more pages of that notebook.

The couple was just nodding their heads, silently. The woman was still gripping her purse on her shoulder - a sign of nervousness for most people.

As the conversation let on, it became apparent that this woman (the one with the purple flowery drape outfit) was a wedding planner and at the end of the conversation, the couple had both agreed that they would be employing her to help plan their wedding.

That was my cue to go. No other interesting things for me there to help distract away from the awful Chemistry homework that I had to do. I quickly packed up my things, placed the empty plate on top of the trash can (the previous home of a delicious turkey and 3-cheese melt on basil infused panini bread) and decided on taking a trip to the mall.

The mall is the same as I leave it - no matter how long I go without perusing its hallways. Which has been a long time. Possibly close to 7 months or so. I bought a few things, but mostly looked. Student loans and a pending auto loan is keeping me from spending too much nowadays.

I had originally planned on staying in all weekend long - but I had gotten a text message later on in the day from my friend Sal. He was headed to Trust (which is now Stadio). Usually, he tells me where he's going and I say 'cool' and stay home regardless.

Something about last night beckoned me out. So I put my medication on for two hours, walked around the apartment trying to clean up, and then took my shower to get ready.

I called the cab at around 9:30 pm. It didn't arrive until 10:15 pm.

The cabbies that I got were truly hilarious. As I climbed into the back, I noticed that there were two men sitting in the front. I was curious, but acted like nothing was out of place.

"200 East Redwood, please."

"Eh?" asked the driver loudly.

"The girl said 200 Redwood...East, right hon?" asked the other man as he turned slightly in his seat to face me.

"Yes, East. That's right." I now knew why there were two. One was the driver and the other was the driver's ears.

It took us forever to get down there. I didn't get to Redwood Street until close to 11 pm since Ears (my name for the second man) told the driver to take a wrong turn without listening to my protests. Finally, they were so exasperated by themselves that they suggested that I get out of the cab a block and a half from the 200 block of Redwood. I agreed, mainly because I didn't want to have a $50 cab fee.

I crawled out of the cab, and made sure to grab all of my things. As I closed the cab door, the driver leaned across Ears and rolled down the window.

"Hey, besides, what is a pretty young girl like you doing out here so late without your boyfriend?"

"No boyfriend. And I'm just trying to have fun and live my life," I said, "Thanks for the ride!"

"Anytime, hon."

The walk was short, but a walk nonetheless. As I neared the valets I pushed past the metal gates and up the front steps.

"This is Trust, right?" I asked for good measure since it had been more than a few years since the last time I'd been there.

"Uh - yeah, Trust - it's not that anymore. Stadio," said the bouncer with his hand outstretched for my ID.

That night was all about baby steps. I was all by myself, had gone with no one I knew - only with the hopes of running into Sal. And just my luck that it was lingerie night - so there were plenty of women with long hair and hoochie outfits to taunt me.

It was tough the first few minutes. I was conscious that I had my hat on, and that I didn't look like any of them. But then I snapped myself out of it - this wasn't the me a few years ago. This wasn't the vibrant girl that went to all the clubs just 5 years ago. Where did that girl go?

I marched up to the bar and flashed a smile. Grabbed my screwdriver, and headed over to the dancefloor.

I decided to just dance. Dance and have fun. That's just what I did. Baby steps, right?

Sal showed up later and kept telling me how I shouldn't be worried about how I looked because I was always going to be fabulous.

Overall, a fun night. Tiring though. I collapsed as soon as I got into the backseat of Sal's car.

Alright, time for me to sleep. Chemistry is kicking my ass. Chemical nomenclature needs to get bent.

-=edit=-
Might I mention to my happiness that despite my self-consciousness of holding the edge of my hat all night to keep it from falling out that I was hit on five times by five separate men (all pretty decent looking, too.) I know that sounds shallow, but in a very small way it helps with the baby steps. I figure if random strangers don't notice anything unordinary, then I shouldn't be so worried about it either.

Funny how life works backwards...

In the past week since I have started this Anthralin ("Dritho-scalp") treatment, I have begun to see a whole new me. Is it because I now have peach fuzz growing in patches slowly all over my scalp where it was bald before? Possibly.


It's always good to see something good happening. I remember when I noticed the first patch of peach fuzz two days ago, I thought it was dirt (because the anthralin tends to color the scalp brown) but then after washing my hair twice (and losing a ton more hair in the process) I realized that it wasn't dirt - it was the color of peach fuzz - my old black hair, although baby hair fine, growing back. I couldn't believe it. I was siked.


I still am siked. I can't see the back, but from what friends and family members tell me, they can see some growth in the back, too.


But nothing comes without a cost. I have been losing more hair, too. I have almost become completely bald - I mean I still have pieces of my old hair clinging to stay on - but a lot of my scalp is exposed now. It's impossible for me to get away without wearing a hat like I had done before.


And yet, it's funny how life turns things backwards.


In the beginning, as I watched my hair fall out, every single piece of it pushed me farther and farther into this introverted state of mind. I wanted to hide out in a corner. I wanted to crawl under a rock and never see the light of day.


But now, maybe it's because I am seeing growth and for the first time faced with something more solid to have belief in, but now - this morning when I woke up and I washed my hair, and I saw the pieces falling every where, I almost felt more empowered.


I feel the urge to be more extroverted. I feel the urge to just not wear the hat - no matter how odd it looks. And I treat my hair situation as if it is normal. Because eventually, if this alopecia continues in my life, my hair situation will be normal for me. So why not start now?


I do have to admit that it's about time to wear a wig. There are only so many days I can pull off wearing a hat and sometimes it gets uncomfortable and confining. I'd rather be able to not wear the hat and just wear the wig although the thought has crossed my mind that essentially, the wig might not be much better. Essentially the wig is just a hat disguised as hair - and I might feel confined in that, too but at least it's worth a try.


I just don't know of any good wig places.

The Absolute Worst Feeling

Is coming home from an incredibly awesome vacation.

The more I go away from my "house", the more my mind wanders back to the fact that I reaaaallly don't like Maryland and have never truly felt "at home" here.

Past attempts to move westward have failed for me, but have not dashed all my hopes of eventually moving towards the land where the sun never stops shining. Until then, I guess this one bedroom cramped space of a "house" in Dumb-dalk will have to suffice.

I had a blast this past week(end). Aside from the fact that this was the beginning of the spring semester, I had taken the mandatory week off from work and thus only had school to worry about. Which, I will never do again. I was literally exhausted from just attending the looooong evening classes, finding myself falling asleep without any strength to hold onto through three hour long lectures, and even more boring labs. I am so frightened for tomorrow morning when I go back to work, have a whole week's worth of work to catch up on, in addition to the classes that last until 10:30 pm Monday-Thursday. AHHHH!!!

If there was a way to just never spend any money on anything, and save up every single penny and dime that I earned, just so I could live off of it and quit work to go to school full time - Jesus, I would.

I am starting to think that as soon as I possibly can, maybe I should start looking for a part time job, and try to cut my expenses a little bit (even though I know I am fooling myself because I cut my expenses as far as I possibly can as it is).

So now I am sitting here, with this empty feeling in my stomach that is coming from the fact that my best friend left my place about a little over an hour ago - to go back to reality. We had a fuckin' blast though. The weather was amazing, and we went to the beach nearly EVERY day we were there (except for one after my unfortunate tequila accident. That's what I am calling it. Regardless of what caused it, J will tell you, I certainly was F-ED up!!). We ate (by 'we' I mean J) ate lots of good food, and J even managed to get me to get out of bed for at least two of the days to go to the gym with him in the early morning and I even managed to get him to sleep in on the fourth day and wait to go to the gym in the afternoon!

I am really happy that I went, and I know he is as well. It was a nice ending to a very interesting summer for me.

In addition, I spent a majority of the time NOT WEARING a hat!!! YES!! Because J became my hat. I felt confident knowing that he didn't care whether I was losing my hair or not. I only thought about it randomly when I would stare at the bed and see pieces of my hair lying all over J's pillow or on the sheets. I would start OCDing and pulling the pieces and throwing them in the trash or over the side of the bed. But J definitely didn't seem to care.

AND we spent a crapload of time in that damn hotel jacuzzi. Damn was that fun. Woo hoo. We even decided to brave an OC night club "Party Block"...heh heh. Finding other Asians in that club was like a "unicorn sighting", J said. It was hilarious. That was also the night where we ran into this kid who was standing at the bar with us and started just talking about how much he loved trance and how him and his friend (who was Korean and thought J was Korean too!) were from Philly. They apparently enjoyed our company so much that they insisted on buying us shots....shots of what - J and I are still not sure. We know it tasted like ass and based on the fact that the next day I had not only cigarette burns all over my left arm (the disadvantages of being a short ass girl) but a terrible stomach ache and a case of...the big D...well, I am assuming it was tequila.

I have a pic of us that is awesome that we took while we were at the beach. I'll probably post it tomorrow - but for right now I have to work on studying for my speech class quiz tomorrow and also prepare the first speech that is due tomorrow as well (that I should have done over the weekend but oh well.)

Lots of love to everyone. A big shout out, big hug, and big old "boosh boosh" to J!! "We sure did have some old-fashioned fun!"

Thank God hats are allowed in clubs!

This weekend, by the encouragement of my "brother" Paul, I will be braving the mysterious waters of -=the DC club circuit=-. *DUN DUN dunnnn!!*

He thinks it'll be good for me to just get out, have fun, and stop worrying about my hair and what people think. I kinda just like the fact that I'll be able to dance and let out some frustration, anger, etc, etc...any wild emotion that decides to claim my dancing feet and give me the rhythm-junkie fever.

So I am headed to Ibiza on Saturday (that new club in DC). I haven't ever been...but of course the "crew" (minus J) has been and has said that it's spectacular. A candy-raver's dream, apparently. And I've been told by other close friends that I will particularly love it (because everyone knows I am addicted to things that glow, and blink with flashing lights. It's the best!) since the club has an awesome light-show effect in the main room. Sweeeeet...maybe it'll flash so many lights that you can't see anyone, and then I won't have a problem with being there and possibly taking my hat off for a song or two...? Ahhh, I am starting to think of all the fun possibilities there are of removing the hat and being free...but I still find I have my reservations. That's okay, I'll slowly get over my fears.

Have you noticed I have joined the ranks of Goosey and Bou? My favorite Chinese sisters have gotten me addicted to Last.fm. I LOVE that site! Nowadays, I just come home and put on that radio and just get ready to go to bed. Of course, I listen to my iPod at work. I won't ever lose my love for you, oh sweet iPod. But this affair with last.fm is working out pretty deliciously, too.

For right now, the music player is a bit redundant, I know. I have like four of the same artists on there with like fifty of their songs, but I was too excited to go on a decent search for songs last night to add to the playlist so I could post it on my blog today.

Back to work...

HOT DAMN!

Break out the confetti...turn up the volume on the Rocky Theme Song...

Ladies & Gentleman...

I officially went to the gym today

WITHOUT MY HAT!

Although I spent the first 16 minutes of my workout looking around and nervously imagining that people were staring at my head while I was on the stair stepper...I made it through. I toughened up and just focused on making it through the workout, and turned up the volume on my iPod and rocked out to some Montell Jordan. (Yes, some people still rock out to "This Is How We Do It")

It sounds silly, but for me this was a huge step - especially since my haircut yesterday - I suddenly realized how much I was using that ponytail as a cover-up too!!! At least with the ponytail I'd pull it every which way to try and conceal the frontal bald spots - but this time, even though the one was covered, the one that graces my hairline is slightly visible. And I felt vulnerable.

But after a while, I was okay. I just kept my mind off of it. Unfortunately, my entire day-to-day process cannot be ADD-ed into recovery like a 45-minute work out - because I am constantly thinking about it whether I realize it at first or not - but one day at a time. I am just so proud of myself for making it to the gym today. Possibly because I know I'll be hanging at the beach with Mr. John Basedow, Jr. next weekend!

I also want to give a very warm thank you to my friends. You have helped make every single day worth getting up for when I felt there was no other possible inspiration. I know that I can make it through this - and I'll do it with a smile. :-)

Strength Comes in the Number 1

My life story is something of a dramatic movie/book. I can only liken this most recent experience to reading something like "A Wrinkle in Time" or "The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe". Suddenly - something tumultuous happens in your life - knocking your views, your morals, your spirituality every which way - and you're pressed into these situations that test your character.


The difference is that when I am reading the book, I can cheer with full faith for Meg Murraythat she will find the inner strength to get through to the next chapter of the book along with her very different little brother Charles Wallace, or know that in my heart that the children will be able to conquer their fears and their insecurities to help beat the White Witch of the woods. But when it's just me as the character - fighting my own battles, having my character tested - it's much harder to be the third person reading the novel that is cheering me on. I had lost faith a long time ago. I don't have the full feeling in my heart that I can make it through this. Not immediately, anyway.


But I realize now that that is what is going to pull me through this. Number One. Numero Uno. The person in my mirror every morning. Myself. Me.

Today I went to go get my haircut after work. But I was nervous. Terrified, even. So I had made the decision to go to the salon (since it's in the same building as my office) during my lunch hour and take a look at some of the haircut books. I wanted to try and at least have an idea of what I wanted even though I was still so depressed about the subject. I kept thinking all last night that there was no hope for me - that any haircut would be terrible because what I had to work with was so little compared to my thick hair that I used to style. I felt no matter what route I went on - that I would ultimately end up looking like a freak. I had nightmares throughout of me getting my hair cut in a Pixie looking style, and then all of a sudden bald spot after bald spot would emerge, until I eventually lost all of my hair. I woke up in a sweat and panic, wondering if this haircut thing was such a good idea or not.

Just like Meg Murray, I went to face my fears. Walking through those big glass doors of About Faces was a lot harder than I imagined it would be. I was hit with the familiar scent of shampoos and conditioners. I saw the pretty girls walking in in front of me with their long thick wavy hair, their new color and highlights, their perms...I just kept walking towards the front desk and pulled my black cap tighter down my forehead.

"Can I help you?" the girl dressed in black behind the front desk asked.

"Yes, actually. I have an appointment with Tiki today at 5:30 but I wanted to take a look at some of the books first."

"Of course, just follow me..."

Just as I walked past the front desk with the girl, Tiki came from around the corner.

"HEYYY!! Aren't you a bit early?" she asked, all smiles.

"Yeah, I figured I would come and take a look at some books to get an idea for what I want."

"Oh yeah? Do you have an idea of how you want it to look?"

I looked at her enthusiastic face and tried to choke back the tears as I shook my head. Wow, I didn't think talking about it with her was going to be this difficult.

"I don't have a clue, Tiki. I can't even begin to think of possibilities right now. I keep looking at it and see nothing but a hopeless ugly look," I said, pulling my cap off with an exasperated sigh.

She like everyone else only saw the first two.

"It doesn't look so bad..." I pulled aside my hair to part it all the way over to reveal the larger bald spot, "Oh," she continued, "you grew more spots. I don't know what this could be. This is truly puzzling me that it happened so sudden to you," she commented like a mother would.

She guided me over to her chair and offered me some short hair style books that she had. As I sat in her chair, she started to play around with my hair, trying to visualize the possibilities. That's when the tears came.

I couldn't stop them. I felt the tears building up, and saw the rims of my eyes turning red.

"Oh, please don't cry, babe. You'll make me cry."

And that's just what I did. We were both just sitting there crying as I explained to her how difficult this was. She told me she couldn't even imagine.

But then something magical happens. Do you ever feel like sometimes you're in the right place at the right time?

That's how I felt at that exact moment. We sat there in high hairdresser chairs, facing each other, teary eyed - and then Tiki said the most empowering things.


"You know, Em...I think that you should just say fuck it and stop wearing the hats. I know that you still have a while to go yet until you feel comfortable with everything. But once you do, I challenge you to remove the hat and just wear it with pride. Accept it, own it, embrace it full throttle. I am a firm believer that thoughts and feelings and physical things connect at some point. That once you set your foot down and decide not to allow this to rule your life, that hair is going to grow back faster than ever. Fuck what people think. You've already let this consume you. It rules your life now...you think about it constantly. This is a sign for you to take the time and really dig deep into yourself to find you...to be comfortable with yourself. To look in the mirror and not just see the hair - but see that inner beauty that everyone else sees. To see all of the inner qualities that make you such a gorgeous person. Finally, you'll be able to take off that hat and relieve the burden off of your shoulders and put it on other people's. Let them stare if they want to stare. Let them say "eww" as they walk by. If they have a problem with it, that's okay, because you know you won't. You'll be perfectly fine with how you are. Why should you continue to wear hats to help other people feel comfortable? Let them take some of the burden from you...you are a very powerful person. And with great power comes great responsibility. This is your legacy, your thing to leave behind. That no matter what came your way, you were you. You were strong."


At this point, I had stopped crying. I felt so empowered by her words. I don't think I will ever be able to thank her enough. As I left to go back to work, I placed the cap back on my head, but with a new resilence. Knowing that one day, as I mend inner self slowly and gradually day by day, I will take this hat off, and I will proudly accept myself for everything that I am. I did with the Cerebral Palsy. I did with the limp. I learned to be myself despite what other people said or how they treated me. And this is nothing different.


I couldn't wait to get off work to go down and get the haircut started. Tiki had said that my ponytail was long enough to send off to Locks of Love. I made the decision to have my hair donated there. I hope that my hair can help to provide a wig for a cancer patient. Someone who really needs that wig and must be going through an extremely overwhelming amount of pain. Someone I look up to with so much respect and awe.


This is what I walked away with (hopefully it'll go to a good home):

As for me, I can't tell you how liberating it felt to cut my hair off. Tiki stood to the side with her scissors and stared at me in the mirror with a smile on her face.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"I'm ready," I said. I was more ready than I ever thought I'd be and I think she did a fantastic job. You can't see any of the bald spots!

I finally put on make-up today...

and it's all for the benefit of a 1-year old. A cute 1-year old at that. TL has decided to let me spend the day with her "big sloppy puppy". I actually can't wait.

I know it sounds silly that I put on make-up...but I guess it's not just for Ryder-bear. It is really for me. To get my ass out of bed and into a more focused, positive mood. Especially when I'll be surrounded by an energetic little boy all day. I am excited and I am sure that Ryder will keep me on my toes which is just what I can't wait for.

There is an article that I was reading last night that I had been given the link to through this other yahoo group that I am a member of for Korean Adoptees (K@W).

"Do Parents Feel Differently About Their Adoptive Children Than Their Offspring?"- from the New York Mag. It took me about an hour to read it (because there were some paragraphs that were so appalling to me that I had to read them twice) but when I finally finished, I was left with this horrid, bitter taste in my mouth. I felt like I had just been fed a full-course meal of total bullshit. And I wanted a refund for that hour.

I want to write more on this article and critically piece it apart to figure out why exactly I didn't like it. It would be much easier for me to piece it as a whole and brand it with my seal of "Don't Read This Trash!" and be done with it. But this piece seemed to have been written with care (albiet hard to believe that it was) by the writer, and thus, I feel that I should take the time and care to analyze why I didn't like it.

I've been working on it some this morning, rereading some sections and really trying disect what it was that disturbed me so much. Was it the constant reminder of the Bradgelina adoption frenzy? Was it the mention of Madonna's baby boy? Was it the breakdown of how other people viewed their adoptions? Or was it because everything stated in that article was the horrible and utter truth - that the views held and the visions of those who carry forth the act of adoption are wrong -but that sadly everything in that article was true?

I'm not sure. At this time, it's a little bit of everything.

It also prompts me to question what brought this article about? Why all of a sudden are we trying to broaden our thought process as to whether or not parents feel differently about their adoptive children than their offspring?

As an adoptee, I have had my issues. I have had my battles, and I have had the struggles that most adoptees face growing up in America with white parents. I can only hope to shed a light whenever I do seminars or workshops or things like that, into the world of which I have grown to see myself.

For now, I must bid you all ado. I'll think more on this article over the weekend and might just have a nice blog about it by the end of Sunday.

BTW, how priceless is the woman who decided to adopt because God came to her one morning while she was jogging?