Back in the groove

My new teammate, who I appropriately gave the nickname Cardboard (though he doesn't know it yet), is slowly warming up to me. Or... should I say... is getting to know me a bit better and therefore, is getting to be much less like cardboard.

Me: K, you're never ordering lunch for us again.
N: She was so mad carrying all that food in.
K: You're kinda high maintenance, aren't you?
H: Oh, you have no idea how high maintenance she is.
Me: And it was hot outside.

K: So do you hate San Francisco? Since you're from LA.
Me: Yup, hate it.
K: Why?
Me: The people.
K: Really? Even compared to LA?
Me: The only problem with LA people is that they're cliquish. If you aren't from LA, LA don't love you.

K: Of course you like sushi. Female, Asian, from LA.
Me: Yea, but I'm kinda snobby about it.
K: What are you not snobby about?

And it feels great to have client contact again, especially with ones who like us.

C: I hope that's not the only thing you're eating for lunch.
Me: Yea, it's just to hold me over.
C: I can't remember the last time I had Sour Patch Kids.
Me: Oh, help yourself.
C: I take it you have a sweet tooth?
Me: I'm headed straight to diabetes.

I think our RA thinks I'm a raging bitch. But honestly, how can she think that what she sent to me was adequate? I really question whether people actually think beyond that first level of logic.

RA: Can you at least look at the spreadsheet I sent to you?
Me: I did, but I need more than 4 lines of data. Here, I'll send you a sample.
RA: This has over a hundred lines.
Me: Yea.

And now for all the geeks.

Me: I don't care if it's shitty. I just want to get something down so H can react to it.
J: Yea, f--k waterfall. It's all about iteration. Agile all the way.
Me: Totally.

Westward Bound

There's a lesson I learned a long time ago, and despite all the years that have gone by since then... the aphorism remains true.

Today, I move back to LA. It's been just shy of three years that I've called Chicago my home. But to be perfectly honest, it hasn't really felt like home in awhile. No place has. And even though I'm moving back to LA, the city of my birth, my youth, it still doesn't feel like I'm going home. It feels like I'm not going anywhere at all.

Anyway, yesterday, Jason and I were the only ones at the office because we're losers and don't care about NATO. Unfortunately, because we were the only ones there, there was no food.

Me: Can I eat this cookie?
(As I take a bite of the cookie, Jason rips it out of my hand and throws it across the room.)
Jason: No, Connie, Jesus... those cookies have been sitting there for weeks.
Me: I already ate a little.
Jason: You can't just eat things off the table.
Me: I'm starving. Let's go eat lunch.
Jason: I have a 12:30pm call you should join. Then we can eat.
Me: I'm going to die.

It was funny at the time, but the more I thought about it, it's kind of sad. I'm an adult in so many ways... and a child in so many others. And I guess I gave myself the next few months to stop being a child. To speak less, and think more. To painfully step back from what I've become accustomed to... which, I suppose, was my own choice anyway.

Because in the end, if life were easy, it wouldn't be worth it. But for whatever we don't like about our lives, who have we to blame but ourselves.

Craigslist People

In my past, I have used Craigslist to find roommates (some of the best ones I've ever had) and to sell shit I didn't think I'd ever sell (digital cameras way beyond their prime). Over the last few weeks, I've had to use it more than ever to sell off every single thing in my apartment. 

And let me tell you. 

I'm so f--king over it, I can't even... I'm so... it's awful.

My main qualm is the variety of users. A full motley of types. 

Hipster Harold: Needs a new bed, but will only buy used IKEA shit. 

Cheapass Charlie: Probably makes more money than I do, but refuses to pay over $10 for anything. Ever.

Nice Nancy: Thanks you for responding to her email, but never buys a thing.

Phantom Phil: Makes plans to come by, but never shows up.

Project Paul: He lives in the co-op and needs twine to tie shit to his Ford Focus.

Student Steve: Keeps insisting that he's poor, and ends up taking your toiletries for free.

I could go on, but it's actually making me mad to think about it. 

If I could go my whole life not having to sell anything on Craigslist ever again, I wouldn't miss a thing. Honestly, I've taken my Negotiations class. And I know when someone is f--king me in the asshole. And these Craigslist users have no mercy when it comes to psychologically toying with your compassion/emotions/whatever to get your shit for dirt cheap. By the time an actual interested buyer shows up, you're so relieved to have that human interaction and also somewhat eager to have this stranger out of your personal space that sure, $10 for that 47" LCD TV? You got it. 

Just two more days, and whatever's leftover is going down the trash chute. 

Mother/Daughter Moments (Part 1)

Doing it a little different today because... well, because there is no other way to describe the situation that happened to me this morning. I'll just dictate the conversations to illustrate. No creativity needed. Try to imagine that most of the conversations I had with my mom were in Korean, and by nature the Korean language is much better at describing all things.

Me: Mom, my stomach hurts really bad. I'm going to go to the hospital. Do you want to go with me?

Mom: Of course I'll go with you. What's wrong?

Me: I think I have an ulcer.

Mom: Yea, you probably do. 

Mom: My daughter is in a lot of pain. How much longer do we have to wait?

Receptionist: She's next.

Mom: Oh, good, thank you. Connie, they say you're next.

Me: Liars. They're all liars. They don't care that I'm in pain.

Mom: Do you want me to hit them?

Me: Yes.

Doctor: Does it hurt when I...

Me: HOLY CHRIST, YES.

Doctor: Hmm... that's your kidney.

Me: Okay.

Doctor: You seem to have a kidney infection.

Me: How'd that happen?

Doctor: Did you have pain in your stomach region for awhile?

Me: Yes.

Doctor: Did you ignore it thinking it'll go away?

Me: Yes.

Doctor: Well, don't do that next time. It was probably just a minor infection... but now it's pretty severe.

Me: Okay, what should I do?

Doctor: I'm going to give you a shot. In your butt.

Me: Okay.

Doctor: It's going to hurt.

Nurse: You need to relax.

Me: It's really hard to relax when I can see the needle in your hand.

Nurse: It'll hurt more if you don't relax.

Me: This is my best attempt at relaxing.

Nurse: Okay, let me know if you have any allergic reactions within the next 15 minutes.

Me: Such as?

Nurse: Nausea, shortness of breath, swelling of the throat, stuff like that.

Me: If I do?

Nurse: Then you're allergic. 

Me: Thanks.

Mom: You have to press on it to spread the medicine.

Me: Don't touch me.... HOLY CHRIST, MOM!

Mom: Mom's hand is the medicine... Mom's hand is the medicine...

Me: STOP IT. IT HURTS.

Mom: We're on our way home now. 

Dad: What happened?

Mom: Connie was sick so I had to take her to the hospital.

Dad: She drank too much again??

Mom: No, not this time.

Dad: She shouldn't drink so much.

Mom: No, I think this is different. Kidney. Not liver.

Mom: You need to take care of yourself.

Me: Normally, I do. It's been a stressful couple weeks.

Mom: I mean, because a kidney infection... that's embarrassing.

Me: It's the first time, Mom. 

Mom: Infections are a dirty disease for dirty people.

Me: I'm not a dirty person, Mom. I just had a stressful week.

Mom: Keep yourself clean, Connie.

Me: Mom, I'm clean. Haven't you ever had an infection before?

Mom: No.