Day 4 and 5

Day 4 was a total turn around. I spent two hours running some errands and managed to knock 4 items off the to-do list. Started packing the trinkets I won't be able to take with me (i.e. seashells). Unfortunately, Oz sent me one new item to take care of. Not terrible, I am still ahead.

Day 5 today has at least 2 items that will be accomplished. One of them being the dreaded laundry, that actually is more like 3 items (wash, dry, fold).

I think being more proactive and productive with my to-do list has made me feel better, not to mention getting more information on my temporary housing (see http://www.asianamericanaussie.blogspot.com) and plane ticket. The latter really cemented the reality of Oz. There is an actual departure date. With ten days left in my old apartment I am feeling the pinch.

In Between Jobs

(Exhibit A)

Now that I am using up the phenomenal reserve of personal days I have amassed over the years to prepare for my move to Australia, I am finding myself to be much less productive than I had originally intended. Granted, people in this time of “transition” tend not to be as efficient with how they spend their time (picture long lines at the unemployment office); it bothers me that I am not a contributing member of society. However, I would like to emphasize that taxes are still being deducted from my paycheck as we speak. Maybe I shouldn’t feel so guilty after all.

It is now day 3 of my time off and I am starting to believe I have an addiction to structure. I need it to be the best that I can be, without it I am no better than an amoeba, especially in the memory department. This is what the last three non-working business days had been filled with.

Day 1:
I slept in and woke up around 10am. Not bad. Surveyed my mess of a room, courtesy of Wal-mart and Target orgy along with apathetic disregard for order during the last few days (Exhibit A); I am inspired to restore order to my surrounding. But first things first, coffee and some breakie. Flipped on the tube, got on the laptop and had my morning coffee. I thought about taking a shower but cleaning my room took precedence. Hours go by and I still had not moved from my coffee chair mainly because I had just become addicted to Facebook and its many useless frivolous functions of virtual community construction. Now the coffee is mostly consumed and cold, empty breakfast plate begs to be washed of dry crusted once runny yolk. Phone rings, my brother had locked himself out of his car. The most exciting thing to have happened all day. I search on Google map to pinpoint his location while giving him triple A’s number. Crisis averted and I avoided having to leave the house for purposes other than drinking. Dodged a bullet there. Glanced at the clock and realized my presence is required at my own farewell happy hour with coworkers, I jump in the shower to get ready.

I arrive at happy hour, stayed at point A for about 1.5 hours. After that we proceeded to point B and stayed there for about 3 hours. Then we walked next door to point C for another 2 hours before returning to point B to close out the night at 3am. Went home and passed out for the night.

Day 2:
Woke up around 11am, jumped in the shower and checked for any signs of hang-over haggardness. Got dressed and rolled to my going away lunch at noon. Had pizza and a Pepsi while talking to the best coworkers in the world. Said good bye to everyone, grabbed a Starbucks, and headed home to get ready for my next drinking engagement starting at 4:30pm. Drink, drank, drunk until there was no more. Ended the night with a ginormous order of carne asada fries at Roberto’s.

Weekend:
Saturday was not filled with as much drinking as expected. Purged my closet of my old college papers. Amazed and depressed at how I once understood funny math symbols and complex stuffs.

Daylight savings hit. Sunday was filled with mostly beer drinking while watching football and a couple of night caps before once again getting something with carne asada.

Day 3:
Today I woke early for a doctor’s appointment at 9am. Probably the most productive thing I will do all day. After I got out of the medical building I felt jet lagged from lack of coffee and daylight savings. Drove home and made some breakie and of course coffee. Saw a giant puddle in the kitchen that my roommate made but did not bother cleaning up even though he admitted to it while we were talking in the kitchen. Me having short-timer syndrome mirrored his sloth like apathy. Proceeded to jump on Facebook again while watching the Hills on MTV. Pondered what task I should tackle and dismissed it all for less important agenda items such as sitting in my coffee chair blogging this very moment. I hope there will be drinking later tonight to help me train for the Ozlympics.

I wonder what Day 4 will be like…

The End (of Work)

The end is never as you’d expect it. Graduation and last day at work, you would think these occasions would be filled with an overwhelming sense of liberation, yet there’s always a little sadness. Maybe it’s because I like to be sad, but I think if you weren’t a little sad then something is amiss. Perhaps you were never happy there, you failed to make connections, or the people there were not memorable; none of the above were the case for me, that made it difficult to say good-bye.

One of my favorite colleagues was messaging me up to when I shut off my computer. He is in another building, but we’ve bonded over an arduous project in the past. He said to take two minutes before I leave and think back to the past three years but only of the good memories and walk out the door with them. And as we winded down our conversation, he said he was going to say what he would say to me on any other day, and that was “have a good night.” While his advice of leaving with the good was well intended, it saddened me because I still could not justify leaving a great network of colleagues in pursuit of the unknown. Will I find replacements for my regular lunch buddy, happy hour crew, and the midnight oil burners? Shutting down my computer for the last time made me feel like pulling the plug on a terminally ill loved one.

As I realize my day-to-day routine is about to be drastically different from the last 10% of my life span, I wonder how I will cope. My heart knows I have to do this, but it is my mind that is having difficulties rationalizing the pros of the decision because all I see are obstacles and things I rather not deal with. Somehow I expected it to be the opposite with my mind made up but my heartstrings tugged in the opposite direction.

Petting Zoo

The field next to our work parking lot is slowing becoming a petting zoo. This morning, a small flock of sheep were brought in. An hour later, Babe's big fat uncle, Mr. Pig was added to the same pen.

Aside from the excitement taking place adjacent to the asphalt lot where we park our cars, only a sprinkling of employees are actually in the office. A few hours later, my cube mate proclaims the building is to be closed at 11am according to the intranet bulletin. I glance at the time at the corner of my screen, it reads 11:30am. When is someone, ahem management, actually going to inform us of the news? Minutes later an announcement is made on the same bulletin that hourly employees that are in the office were to be paid a time and a half their regular pay for coming in. Where does that leave the salary slaves? To add insult to injury, we were barely informed of the free pizza brought in for lunch due to the cafeteria closure.

So today after checking the emergency hotline and trying to decipher the cryptic HR double talk of:

(Paraphrased) In light of our current conditions in the San Diego area, both buildings are to remain closed. Because the buildings are closed as it was on Monday, all non exempt employees who volunteer to come in will receive a time and a half pay. All other employees will be paid regular pay and no TOP days will be subtracted. Our building will remain open for volunteer employees. The air quality remains good in both buildings. Please check at noon today for the next update.

I've decided to "work from home," possibly head in the afternoon to check email, say hi to Mr. Pig and his sheeps (peeps).

Refugee

I am officially a refugee because of the San Diego Fires. I just evacuated my humble abode an hour ago and am now continuing my vigilance in front of the TV with the local news. As a child I hated natural disasters that made national news because it interrupted my regularly scheduled programs, specifically, cartoons. Growing up with no cable, these times of trial were extremely painful. Now, as an adult I greatly appreciate the round-the-clock coverage our tireless news anchors are providing; especially now there's a possibility I may lose my pack rat belongings to one of five elements: fire.

Now I wondered...what exactly does mandatory evacuation mean? Is it "mandatory" or mandatory mandatory? I mean, there must be some legal jargon that makes it not really mandatory, i.e. they can't force you out of your home. More importantly, I'm more curious about the probability of my place burning down with respect to the level of required evacuation. Does advisory evacuation mean 30% chance? Perhaps mandatory only means 50%? I think when firefighters or law enforcement knocks on your door, then there's a high probability.

I'm learning a bit about myself during all this. According to my previous posting, I added a few items to my flee list. The additional items were a few vanity items , two expensive dresses and two expensive coats. I'll be prepared to attend a fancy evacuation ball barefoot or to keep warm should Mother Nature throw a cold snap this way. I didn't take any additional shoes except for flipflops and the tennis shoes I had on. Oh and I grabbed the frozen pizza I had been craving all day. I guess I'm not as materialistic or shallow as I thought, but I'm not that deep either apparently.

San Diego Fire 2007

In my whole entire life this is the second time I have been affected by a major natural disaster. The first one was the Northridge Earthquake; I was shaken awake by the seismic movement. Right now I am home with every TV in the apartment on the San Diego Fire coverage. Work had a fire day; translation no workie today. My town currently is on voluntary evacuation with one of the fires about 25 miles away. Even with the windows shut tight, a layer of black ash has gathered on the window sill. Outside the air looks smoggy but it smells smokey like a campfire. Is it twisted that I don't mind the smell?

My apartment is nearly by the ocean, so I guess there's not really a point to evacuate except to jump in the ocean or out of fear of entrapment by fire. However, just as a precaution, I have made a mental list of items I plan to take with me (golf clubs, change of clothes, important docs, photos, journals, laptop and necessary chargers. If I have time/room then some vanity stuffs). And, just in case, I also called a friend to secure my refugee status at their residence.

The nervous panicky energy in the air conveyed by the news is unsettling. I can't believe houses are actually burning down to the ground. I am keeping an eye outside. I see some cars pass by with the backseat filled with personal items. The whole idea of possibly losing everything I own is surreal and perhaps a bit melodramatic. I imagine I would be devastated and blame myself for not getting renter's insurance (would that make a difference?) But, honestly I feel nothing right now. Non-San Diegan friends are checking in, good to know who my friends are =). I told my friend Kimmy that I'm not leaving until the fire singes my ass or until I get the reverse 911 call.

Big Brother?

This is how I know the government is keeping tabs on us. A month before my move out of this country, the judicial branch summons me for jury duty. The date is a mere 2 days after my departure. That's all I have to say about that.

2nd Trimester Disclaimer

Official letter has been signed and faxed back. More paperwork need to be completed before everything is said and done, I guess this is where all the needle prodding tests take place. Look out for moody preggy woman in the coming weeks. I am not responsible for the words and actions that takes place in the next 5 weeks. The hormones, I mean stress is most likely going to make me not myself. I will likely be a raging bitch or an emotional sap. If I start crying, I beg someone to slap me. If I start being an a-hole, please bitch slap me as well. Thanks in advance.

hindsight is 20/20

when i was young, this phrase plagued me. as i think back, i must have heard it from every teacher i ever had, all of my relatives, and the occasional old lady on the street. even as a child, i was the one that would wistfully, out loud, comment on their failures.

Me: i wish i would have saved my money instead of buying this (insert cheap toy that broke or new candy that seemed really cool but was, in fact, very lame)
Obnoxious Grown-Up: well, hindsight is 20/20

as i grow older, i notice this phrase coming out of my mouth more often than i hear it. my bgf has been seeking some, slight, advice from me lately, and generally, i reply "you should relax." well, today, she throws back to me, "you were exactly this way a month ago" or something like that. and, without thinking, i hear it.

hindsight

is

20/20.

at that moment, i realize what i said. i even made an out-loud note about it so i would remember. i am beginning to love that phrase. it is so matter-of-fact. to-the-point. it fits a variety of situations.

it is official: i am that obnoxious grown-up.

that random five year old salesgirl attempting to sell me a pedicure knew it. and i know it, too.

if you catch me uttering any phrase containing the words "pot," "kettle," and "black," please incite some sort of physical harm for the pavlovian effect. i beg of you.

Cold Feet

I'm suddenly getting cold feet about Australia. After reading some expatriate testimonies of their impressions of the locals and surroundings, the land down under did not sound like the happiest place on Earth, as I originally thought. On top of that, one co-worker keeps saying to me, "Don't go (to Australia)," like the ominous raven personified by Edgar Allen Poe. I find myself justifying my reasons to him and then realizing I didn't owe him an explanation so much as myself. I don't know why anyone would say that to someone leaving a job in search of new opportunities, especially to someone he/she didn't know well. It's like telling someone their baby isn't the cutest creature on earth when it's just mediocre, or God forbid downright fugly.

But seriously, am I making a huge mistake? While most people say, "Oh if I weren't tied down, blah blah blah, I'd take it in a heartbeat," but do they really mean it? I mean, have they truly given the whole thing as much serious stressful thought as moi? Do they know the consequences and implications down the road? It's like unprotected sex, seems like a good idea at first but in hindsight a horrible mistake.

Soothing Fall

I stepped outside of the house for the first time today and the sky was sunny. A breeze swept past me and brought the scent of fall to my olfactory. The atmosphere carried hints of scorched parchment. I was suddenly hyper aware of each breath I took into my lungs; the essence I was detecting was familiar and new at the same time. Autumn had taken over abruptly. It seemed as if the blazing red hot coils of the summer furnace had shorted out and caused the sparks to singe the surrounding air and dust. A mild blast of sharp icy cool air pierced the senses while sapping up every drop of moisture in the air. My mood was lifted by the changing of the season. I had been going through a transformation in my life as well. It made me feel better that the world was changing with me rather than before me.

Some Tidbits of Weekend

"One-Armed Stripper"

"Thousands of Beautiful Girls and Three Ugly Ones"

"Rolled some salami"

"I don't get Cox"

"Cox On-Demand, Broke Back Mountain"

My nearly full jar of almonds reduced to a few scant pieces at the bottom. Sitting below it was an almost brand new jar with freshness tamper free seal displaced along with an inch of of nuts. Probably the most considerate thing Bible Boy has done. I guess they covered the chapter on "What would Jesus do?"

Pushed Myself Down the Stairs

A good friend of mine and I made a pact not too long ago. We promised each other that if one of us ever got knocked up, the other would do their loyal duty of pushing the preggy one down a flight of stairs, no matter where they were. We derived this practice from the law of physics: what gets knocked up, must get knocked down. Many people find this method of abortion barbaric, but we just think it's good sense. It's way cheap, I mean why spend money on an unborn? There's certainly no abortion showers being thrown around the country, and I think that is a travesty. Hallmark can benefit from this new market, not to mention, the liquor industry as a whole.

So, the metaphoric pregnancy test stick has shown a positive on the new job. However, I may have fallen down the analogous stairwell, though by no fault of my good friend. I have this doom and gloom feeling that I have done poorly on the online tests they requested me to take. Come Monday morning, I will find myself knocked down instead of up.

Picking up Smoking

I've always been anti-smoking mostly because of the health hazards associated with the smoker and bystanders. However, some of my closest friends are regular smokers, and I try to be supportive; although that's probably not being a good friend. At any rate, I don't gag or give them a hard time about their habit when they light up. In fact, I like being the presence of their cigarette clouds. While I have a mental block about inhaling smoke through a rolled filtered cigarette, I have no problem breathing in second-hand smoke. I have to admit, I do feel soothed by it sometimes. There's just something about the elegant, yet mysterious, curls of smoke floating and evaporating into a haze of gray carrying hints of oaky bark that makes the smoker want to say, "Ahhhhh...."

Lately, I have been uber-stressed out about a new job prospect in Australia. I have received an informal offer and am working out the details. But due to my worry prone nature, I obsess over it like it's my job; which is a pretty accurate depiction of the amount of attention I give it while I'm at work. At any rate, I thought to myself, how do I break the monotony of my constant high-strung state? There must be a quick fix to calm me down. Then, I thought of smoking. I've heard many a smokers praise the euphoria of nicotine. However, I just cannot see myself sucking on a rolled up stick of dried tea leaves while it's ablaze. So I thought maybe I could go try one of those nicotine patches or the gum. I like chewing gum, this would be perfect. Eventually I may work up the courage to smoke an actual ciggy.

Unplanned Parenthood

In going with the theme of pregnancy, this is where reality hits. I was ecstatic about getting an offer, seeing the stick I had pee'd on turn blue. Now, I'm doing the math and thinking this is mad, i.e. I can't afford to raise this kid. The question lies in do I give it up for adoption or keep it and maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised; translation: child genius.

There's a reason it's past 1:30am on a Tuesday night and my mind is still wide awake despite numerous libations I imbibed over the last 6 hours. I had a hard time sleeping last night because of the myriad of thoughts racing through my mind. They centered mostly around Australia and specifically my packing list. I can't help that I am a worrier and detail oriented, which makes the former a million times worse.

My first attempt at serious compensation negotiation failed miserably. Either the Australians are Nazi negotiators or I suck at negotiating. They shot me down in every avenue possible, down to the flight accomodations of coach versus business (my last ditch effort). Maybe my salary package is inflated acccording to their standards, but I'm an American and I think in USD terms, goddammit! The whole thing left me feeling defeated and questioning the life choice I am about to make.

I suppose I can be resourceful. I can pray to the housing gods that they will be kind to me and perhaps I will find a one-bedroom deal or non-psycho-lame CLEAN roommates. I've endured Christmas alone in a foreign land, what's another one under the belt. At least this one will be in English rather than Portugese. The only thing I am questioning is why am I so anxious for a change. Why am I leaving such a wonderful network of friends in San Diego to pursue this pipe dream I never had until a month ago? Am I crazy? All I see is difficulties ahead. Nothing makes sense, yet there is a strong desire to go because of fear of regret.

It's a Boy!/Girl!

Having never experienced the excitement of a positive pregnancy test, this job offer from Australia is one of the few moments of pure joy I have yet experienced in my female adult life. YESSSS! I GOT THE JOB! I wanted to shout it from the rooftop of my building, but I'm pretty sure security would shoot me with a tranquilizer gun and cause me to fall off the side of the edifice. I think someone should throw me a Job Shower, and I can register for things like coffee mugs, packing materials, business card holders, international phone cards, tissue and vodka (in case this is a horrible mistake) etc., etc.... But I will settle for a happy hour.

I can't believe it. At the beginning of the application process I thought to myself, "If I pull this off, it will be like a dream I never had come true." And here I am, blogging away at midnight, surprisingly unsoiled. The reality of all of it is settling in, the positive and negative, but mostly the negative because I'm a pessimist and worrier. I am 80% sure I want to take it. I think it's not 90% because I have never been there, so the extra uncertainty accounts for 10%. Now I just have to convince my parents this is a good idea. I plan to guilt them, citing them as my inspiration. In a way, it is true. They moved here to this country with my brother and I in tow, yet they barely knew the language or the lay of the land. I am only modeling myself after them, but in a cowardly selfish way.

I've already began making lists of things to take care of, and I love making lists:
1) Rent Notice
2) Cancel Celly
3) Transfer Utilities to Roomies
4) Let Roommies know I'm moving
5) Purge Purge Purge
6) More Research (i.e. tax impact, electric currents)
7) Find a home for my freakishly tall and lucky bamboo (not my parents...well maybe....)
8) Purge Purge Purge
9) Book the rest of my physical therapy
10) Use up my FSA ASAP
11) Figure out the timeline

I will cut myself off there.

I always knew the time would come when I have to leave my little paradise by the water. What I didn't know is how I would feel. Regret, guilt, relief, anticipation...I can't wait to be there at the same time I want to say "wait...."

Feng Shui

I am not a big believer nor fan of Feng Shui. My Asian license will probably be revoked if the Asian cultural authorities got wind of this entry. To me, Feng Shui is just the ancient form of interior decorating, the same way that Greek mythology is the early stage of modern religion. Both, interior decorating and religion, do not really do that much, mainly because both can be so subjective. They are great when people need it, but neither is truly necessary in order to ensure the continuum of the universe is not disrupted.

With that said, I just moved two pieces of furniture in my room this morning, and IKEA! (That's "Eureka!" in furniture talk). I just found my new favorite spot in my room. I can't believe it took me this long to conceptualize the usage of this corner space by the window. Although, I had always thought the big faux leather Lazy Boy would be a great reading/laptop chair in that spot, my mind dismissed it because of spatial limitations. But this morning, I decided to experiment. I moved my little gray computer chair from that corner to the desk and swapped in the recliner. Et voila! I sat down and looked out at the sky and the big pine tree outside my window, along with all the cars swooshing by; it was my new little piece of ghetto heaven. I was happy as a cat reading via natural light with my cup of coffee on the window sill next to me.

I still think people who Feng Shui the crap out of their place are a little looney, especially if it is their profession, but people who pay money for this are idiots. I think that will be my new get rich quick business venture. Heck, I'm Asian, I can pull it off. Finally, I can capitalize on my heritage in a more meaningful way besides ESL. Now...I need to figure out what to do with that lamp.

First Trimester

While I am far, far, far...far from being barefoot and pregnant, I cannot help but notice the parallel between when to announce a job lead one is pursuing and successful fertilization. Some see it as jinxing the event, but I think it is quite possible the mere act of heralding the occassion may scare the prospect or zygote into retreat. So with the all-so-important international job potential, I waited until after I cleared the first interview to tell the less important people, like my parents. Let's just face it, they are excitement prone. I am still waiting for the second interview appointment to arrive, it feels much like the time between when you pee on the stick and wait for the colors to turn. I guess I'm not out of the woods yet. Maybe I should've waited until I was showing.

Preparation Anxiety

I am "cramming" for an interview less than 24-hours away. I have been out of the game with the job hunt process that I feel anxious and unsure of where I stand in terms of qualified candidates. It's like jumping into the dating game after emerging from a long term relationship. I don't know where to start, and I'm everywhere and getting nowhere. I know it's just one interview, and I shouldn't view it as a make or break deal. But, I can't help it because I like to worry; it's in my genetics thanks to my dear old mom. Speaking of the parental units, I also have not consulted them on my decision to interview for this particular position. I have been hinting for months that I wanted a change of scenery in the job front. Up until this month I did not have any leads, nor attempted to search.

I've always discussed major decisions with my parents, sought their wisdom to guide me in my young grasshopper ways. I think that also attributed to my indecisiveness (note to self, do not mention as weakness at interview). This time, I have been going it alone with the support of friends and coworkers, though a very select group. I don't want to jinx my chances. I don't want too many people to know lest I fail; the fall would hurt more because I didn't just let myself down. However, keeping the secret from my parents only adds more stress. It's like the time in college when I decided to rush for a sorority and told my parents afterwards as an FYI. I remember my mom being livid, but after talking to my second cousin she was much more supportive. I have a feeling they may rain on this parade before it forms, I don't think they will approve similar to the way they disapproved of my prom date. But, thinking back to prom, I ended up going to it and had a pretty good time, regardless. So if history is indicative of anything, I just might survive, but I am horribly anticipating the interview already. I guess I should disspell all this nervous energy by cleaning my room and simultaneously preparing for the appointment.

It's Chilly Outside

Labor Day signals the end to summer white wardrobe and warm weather alike. The West Coast is usually an exception to that cardinal rule. However, this September evening, I sense a slight chill in the air.

Labor Day weekend was a scorcher; perhaps it was nature's way of ending summer with a bang. I felt guilty for taking summer so for granted, but I also cannot wait to start snuggling under soft blankets--as much as one can in sunny San Diego. For the first time in months, I was able to shut the window to shield out the sounds of Highway 101 without suffocating from heat.

The serene silence, with traces of motorists sailing by my window, is a welcome reprieve from all the chaos the past month has brought. Almost as a precursor to leaves turning colors, change is swirling all around me; I am in the eye of a hurricane, calm but witness to all of its frenzy. I am harking for signs on how to begin the next chapter in my life. I fear if I remain at a standstill, as I am often prone to do, I will look back with regret. Yet, the glacier of uncertainty that encases the future freezes my mind.

One great challenge has been presented before me. I am waiting to hear from another. Am I ready for them? While I don't see myself as a competitive person, I do enjoy winning. Can I handle learning to tread water all over again?

I saw a sign that said "2B", and I thought of Shakespeare's famous quote "To be, or not to be." I think I am ready to be, it is just a matter of which, what, where, whom, and how.