Walk a mile in my shoes...and you'll get a rash

Sometimes, I have one of those days where, if I smoked, I'd go through a pack in one day, heck, one hour. Thinking I'd prepare for summer, I bought a pair of new sandals from Famous Footwear a week ago. I wore them to work. Fine. On Saturday, I wore them to walk around the "Asian" Arts Festival in downtown Phoenix on a very hot day. Not fine. Apparently, sweat + the wrong chemical in shoe material = a very blistery, itch rash also known as dermatitis. I tried to ignore it and hoped it would go away with ointment. But today, I just couldn't take it anymore. It was like walking with itchy little, lit matches under my feet. Little did I know another level of pain would come...the pain of waiting.

As soon as I got off work, I went to an urgent care clinic where I had to wait for 90 minutes. There's only one doctor on staff at a time. Once I got to the exam room, I had to wait another half hour. At least the room had a mounted TV and I was able to watch the beginning of "Smallville." The strange thing was the doctor came in and she didn't even bother turning the TV off and it was pretty loud. So, all that waiting and she must've looked at my feet for about one minute and just asked me some questions. Then she listed the 3 prescriptions she'd give me. Then she said "be right back" (famous last words). Maybe about 20 minutes later, the physician's assistant came with my prescription.

On to Target pharmacy...I got there at 7:40 p.m. The pharmacist assistant said they would be ready by 8. I didn't get them 'til 8:30 p.m. (still haven't had dinner yet BTW) Then the main physician, whose name was also Terry, had to talk to me. On a side note, I've never seen a pharmacist like him. Do most Target pharmacists look gay/metrosexual with a red buttoned, collared shirt and a belt and nice men's shoes? So, he looks at my prescriptions and smiles at me and says, "Did you get a rash?" Sheesh, he's the pharmacist. He should know. So, I got two kinds of topical cream and a steroid in tablet form. And Terry informed me that the tablets could carry side effects like jittery nerves, an insatiable need for munchies or restless sleep since they are steroids. Probably the closest I'll get to knowing what it feels like to be a major league baseball player.

Oh, more good news. If these things don't work in 2-3 days, I'm supposed to go to an ER. I'm sorry, but I just had to bitch. Damn, life is annoying sometimes.

The Great Clown Caper and a Real Caper

Yesterday at the office, the news editor wanted me to get a surveillance photo to go with a brief about this couple who were just sentenced for robbing a Tucson convenience store back in August. In every article that's been written about the crime, the reporter called them clown robbers, saying they wore clown costumes while committing the robbery. So, I'm picturing a couple wearing suits and red rubber noses. I call the public information officer at the Tucson Police Department -- Sgt. Robinson -- and he has to jump through all these hoops to get permission to release the photo. He told me I would be the first one to see it outside of the department (I guess that's supposed to excite me). I finally get the photo via e-mail and it's sharp and in color. And what do I see? The girl is wearing a red nylon jacket (last time I checked, clowns don't wear parka-like jackets) and the guy was wearing a black and white mask that made him look like a new member of KISS. I was like "Where are the clown costumes?" However, must say, the picture was still disturbing. You can't see the poor clerk but you know he's there. You see the open register till and Bonnie and Clyde pointing sawed off shotguns at him. Even Sgt. Robinson said "If I had been the clerk, I would've peed in my pants!" Anyway, I basically learned that these past few months, most broadcast and print outlets were misreported. Just because the clerk said all he remembered was clown costumes, the media ran with that when in fact, there's nothing clown-like. It was a nice reminder to try to verify stuff. I read those two robbers -- who were sentenced to three years -- are about my age. Why can't young people just go out and get jobs? Really, they can't be thinking it was all worth it.

If you wanna hear about a real caper...I heard a very crazy story about the current state of someone we went to high school with. I won't refer to him by name. This person who I did hang out with once in a while and thought was nice was arrested a couple weeks ago in New York. He and an associate at Goldman Sachs stand accused of insider trading and stealing $6.7 million (whoo!). This guy is still in Manhattan Correctional Facility because he can't make the $3 million bail. I think we know what the message is here: You don't need a private school edcuation to become a white-collar baddie.

Gelato = La Dolce Vita

There's always room for dessert of course. I was strongly encouraged by my friend Sandy to try The Gelato Spot. Lucky for me, the place is in the same plaza as Deluxburger. Funny...these two places share a shopping plaza with a Safeway. Back in Sunnyvale, my neighborhood Safeway shares lot space with a liquor store and the low-budget Asia Village. But, I digress.

The Gelato Spot definitely had a different vibe from Gelato Classico. They decorate each gelato display with fruit or syrup or chocolate--something that lets you know right away what flavor it is. As you can see, they really pile it on when you decide to combine two flavors. I had mint chocolate chip and chocolate peanut butter. There are also flavors like rum raisin, pistacchio and almond snickers with real almond pieces. Guess I've found one place to hide from the evil summer temperatures.

Fries "a la cart"

I had been waiting all week to try this restaurant near my place called Deluxburger--solely for the fries. You have your choice of regular fries, sweet potato, or a combination of the two served, literally, a la carte. How freaking adorable is that? When my friend Tony, who's studying at the California Culinary Academy, opens his own restaurant one day, I think he should definitely consider some sort of visual pun. Presentation, I say. Presentation. Anyway, my mom and I shared one cart of the combination and couldn't finish. I had forgotten how good sweet potatoes can taste. And they serve it with ketchup and some creamy mustard-mayo hybrid with a pinch of cayenne pepper. Good stuff.

Overall, I give Deluxburger pretty high marks for food, price and atmosphere. It's definitely a popular place that attracts retirees and young adults (Of course, we were the only Asians in there except for one lady). Giant candles and blue lighting give off a supper-club ambience. Our burger was allegedly made with grain-fed, all-natural beef and served on a toasted brioche bun. It came out moist and not overcooked. Mom and I also split a tomato mozzarella salad. But judging by what I saw, Delux's biggest draw is the 40 types of draft beers and ales.

tomato mozzarella salad and open-faced hamburger (okay, obviously people can figure out for themselves what's in these pictures)

One of my new neighbors

I met my next door neighbor, Alicia. She is, surprisingly, not old. She looks to be around my age. Most of the people in this building are retired or in their forties. She has two little dogs--Jesus (pictured--pronounced the Spanish way) and Fritzy, whose behind is in the picture. Aren't they adorable? She let me hold Fritzy last week, which was really helpful in dealing with a stressful first week on the job.

A Moment of Silence for 4BAK007

This morning, I went to the DMV...I'm sorry, I mean the Motor Vehicle Division. Unfortunately, the branches closer to me are closed on Saturday. So, I had to go to the one in South Central Phoenix. Now, I'm not implying anything about the people who go there or work there. But the place smelled like pee. That aside, it went okay. Except I didn't know that when you get a new license plate, you have to give your old one back. I thought you could keep them like accessories and just mix and match according to what state you're in. I at least thought we could keep license plates as souvenirs. I guess I was sorta sad about giving it back--it would make the whole move that much more real. And the purple cacti on my new license plate did not help. I am not a cactus kind of person. But I suppose we all get accustomed to change. At least I'll get to keep my California driver's license.

This month's Audrey

I almost forgot...Most of you have heard my recap about following around Dr. Kim -- Rep. Mike Honda, four rocking nuns and cult-followers all in one week-- for a freelance assignment for Audrey magazine. Well, the magazine is on newsstands now at Borders and possibly Barnes & Noble. The piece isn't as gushy as some other past Trailblazer features. But I didn't exactly go all Rolling-Stone-on-Scientology. I put in enough details so that people can either think she's really amazing or really odd. But you guys are truly in the know. Everything I relayed to you, I couldn't fit into the article. And if you're a student or staff member of Dr. Kim's and you're reading this--um...when I say 'cult,' I mean cult as in a follower of culture. Yes, that's it.

Dry heat, the Great Wall, and more dry heat

Salutations from Phoenix. Wow...okay...I know I gave up on my blog a year ago. I guess I felt like I had nothing interesting to say. I mean, what could I write about? Um...another job interview gone unanswered but um...I have a pulse. Anywho, now that I'm living in Arizona (Dear god -- I learned from a play it's not offensive when it's a small g--I'm living in a red state!), I figured this would be the best way to simultaneously inform people how I'm doing.

I've been in Phoenix about a week now. Here are some of my initial impressions:
-It's too hot. I wish that the Bay Area could ship some of that rain our way.
-Phoenix in some ways is like California 20 years ago. There are a lot of Mexicans and Caucasians. I am usually the only Asian in stores -- at least on the East Side. See, in Phoenix, East Side = good, West Side = not so good. Southwest = very, very bad. There are A LOT of Chinese restaurants, especially buffets. However, I have my doubts about a $4.59 buffet. That cheap, one can't expect much. I have only spotted two Thai restaurants. Don't see anything Malaysian and I don't think there are nearly as many Pho places.
-It's hella dry and hot here.
-I've seen quite a few obese people. I think I know why. Yesterday at the drug store, it was 6 p.m., and the other people in line either were buying beer, wine or just candy. One guy, dressed in businesswear, apparently had an after-hours yearning for two tall cans of Old English beer. No splurging there.
--It's really hot here. Anyone who thinks Phoenix is the greatest place to live is kidding himself.

Some highlights:
When we first got here last week, my mom and I met up with mom's second cousin, whom I call Auntie Karen. See, Karen's mother was the first cousin of mom's father--got that? She introduced -- or in my mom's case re-introduced -- us to her siblings and their kids. So, I met a bunch of third cousins who are all in my age group--Grant, George and Betty. We were at Karen's sister's house and George was cooking chili for everyone. Apparently, they all grew up in Phoenix and always have family get-togethers--which I'll probably get invited to. I feel like Elaine on that "Seinfeld" episode when she started hanging out with alternate-universe versions of Kramer, George, and Jerry. Have I found my alternate-universe Woo clan?

So, all of Karen's family has somehow at one time been involved in the restaurant business. Last Sunday, mom and I did a Chinese restaurant crawl of sorts. For lunch, we had dim sum with Auntie Judy (Karen's sister) at her restaurant, the Great Wall. It's quite popular. When we got there, I saw a long line and the place was almost full to capacity. The biggest surprise: almost everyone was Chinese -- so many Asians in one place. At the end of lunch, Auntie Judy pushed a cart over and told me to take home whatever I wanted. Do you know what a dream-come-true that was for a Chinese girl who loves to eat? Then for dinner, we went to Karen's brother's restaurant.

I'm sure you're curious about my job and what it entails. It would take a lot of typing. But it's way hectic. I don't even feel like I have a free moment to use the Web to check e-mail. There's always something I should be doing. I input a lot of events for a calendar that is time-released via computer to media personnel in Arizona -- it could be info on a charity event, a press conference, or a trial proceeding. I have to tally how many AP stories appeared in the Arizona Republic (the state's largest newspaper). For those of you not sure, AP is a news wire service. Newspapers throughout the state subscribe to AP for the right to publish their stories. Hmmm...what else do I do? Yesterday, I called a Tucson hospital spokesperson to check up on the condition of the president of the University of Arizona and then I added my information to a story. Nothing too earth-shattering.

I have one roommate named Gaby. She's been renting out the other bedroom for a couple years now. She's from Mexico and pretty easygoing. Two days ago, one of the building's maintenance men knocked on the door and said in a mix of Spanish and English that he was looking for her. She went outside to talk to him and disappeared for an hour. Turns out, Gaby had partially paid for his truck but found it in need of many repairs and did not want to pay anymore. So, this man--who's 50-years-old--reacts by crying. Not just tearing up, but like wheezing and breathing hard. Well, thanks to his tactic, she agreed to pay him $500 of the $1,000 he wanted. Perhaps he can now afford a haircut. Seriously, picture a guy in shorts and a T-shirt with salt and pepper hair long enough to cover most of his ears and get in his eyes. Add on his scrub-brush moustache, and you have the 'after' picture for "The Shaggy Dog."

Well, now that I have Internet capabilities in my apartment, I will be able to keep in touch more. I hope y'all will keep in touch with me.

Our guide David gave the tour an adult spin by pointing out the Bill and Monica Rock. 

Who'd have thought bird poop would serve as a visual aid in illustrating shifting fault lines? 

Sandy and I masquerading as outdoorsy types in front of the pink jeep.  

Sedona rocks!!

Pardon the pun; I couldn't resist. So, I arrived back from visiting my good pal Sandy in Arizona a couple days ago. For me, it's always fun to walk the soil of another state. You find the little things surprising. Like, I forgot that in Arizona, primetime TV starts an hour earlier. I was thrown when Saturday Night Live came on at 10:30. If it were that way here, I would probably watch the show more. And still being funny would help. I also saw a liquor store near Sandy's with its own drive-thru window . And walking around downtown Tempe, a man who looked like Cooter from "Dukes of Hazzard" offered me a card with LSD.

Besides catching up with each other, Sandy, the ever excellent hostess, did all the driving and we made the trek to Sedona. Now, I never expected to encounter extreme weather changes. All I had were jeans and shorts in my luggage. Alas, a misguided decision. See, Phoenix may feel like an oven, but Sedona has an elevation of at least 3,000 feet--depending where you pull over for a photo op. Rain was coming down upon our arrival. We took a scenic drive through uptown Sedona and then along Oak Canyon Creek. We stopped at a canyon edge where Native American vendors were wrapping up their wares amid all these snow-covered pines. Soon, tiny snowflakes graced my coat, hair, eyelashes and other places that Maria Von Trapp would appreciate. But we didn't stay long because it was very, very cold. Yet, the next day, we embarked on a jeep tour at 11 a.m. in quite sunny weather. We took the Broken Arrow tour. Sandy and I shared a pink jeep (like any other car color would've been as cool)with six others--two women from Southern Cal, a couple from Australia and some other couple in their forties from somewhere in the U.S. The man in the Australian duo kept uttering wise proverbs like "The 7Ps: Prior Preparation and Planning Prevent Piss-Poor Performance" and "You're only as old as the woman you feel." Those whacky Australians.

David, our chipper guide, steered the 4x4 over very rough terrain and pointed out famous red rock phenomena such as the Twin Nuns, Snoopy Rock (it really does resemble him lying on his dog house), Mother and Child. It was a very bumpy ride. I felt quite tenderized by the end, but it was worth taking in all the landscape. Afterward, we chowed down on cactus fries and buffalo sandwiches at the Cowboy Club, where all the wait staff wear gun holsters. I definitely got a good taste of the Southwest. Afterwards, we went to the tourist office and the pop cultural nerd in me asked an elderly lady behind the counter where Lucille Ball's former home was. And she said "We don't keep track of that stuff. The movie stars and celebrities want their privacy respected." I had to fight so hard not to blurt out "Um, but she's dead." Anyone who has seen those "I Love Lucy" episodes where they are in Hollywood know that Lucy was a big advocate of celebrity house hunting. Anyway, we went on to hike on the Bell Rock trail, where I stuck to my talent of getting lost, we high-tailed it back to Phoenix.

The next day, I accompanied Sandy to Tucson to check out the University of Arizona. We strolled down 4th Ave, which is a compact-sized, slightly less bohemian version of Berkeley's Telegraph. The only store of interest was Antigone Bookstore where the target audience is lesbians. If I wasn't sure before, the life-size Xena cut-out confirmed it.

Overall, excellent mini-break. In between the sightseeing, we stayed in and I got to watch "The Best of Triumph" and "Napoleon Dynamite" (it's now on my must-own list). I will now go look at my pics and try to figure out what rock is what. I swear it's as bad as looking for constellations!

Nothing says family like cemetary

Yesterday, I went to the all-Chinese cemetary in Colma. The group in attendance was comprised of me, Gary, my mom, Uncle Kin, Auntie Jenny, Auntie Linda and Emily. See, about twice a year in the fall and spring, families are supposed to by san or visit the gravestones of their elders and leave offerings of food, money (in the form of Hell Bank Notes) and prayers. It's actually the first weekend of the season when people come. But, since most of my mom's siblings are semi-retired or part-time workers, they decided to go on a Friday. Kinda nice not having the crowds there. Not that the cemetary is very noisy to begin with.

Of course, standing in front of my maternal grandparents' graves had us all thinking about visits past. I looked around and noticed how much smaller the group was compared to during my elementary school years. The cemetary is on a hill and my grandparents' headstones are situated right next to a concrete path that cars can take up to the next level. Hehe, I still remember when my grandma was with us. As she got older, we worried the uphill climb would be too hard for her. Once, we didn't want her to stand for too long during the entire ritual. So, Uncle Kin put his big blue cooler on the pathway for her to sit on. And we all had to take turns standing with at least one foot against it so the cooler and Grandma wouldn't go sliding down the hill. Of course, now she's there for the long-term. I wonder if she wishes more of us came. But, it's all part of the natural progression of change. I didn't go many times when I was in college and for a couple years after that. And the past two years, I've gone. These days, everyone has either moved out of proximity or they're just too busy to even consider coming. So, hopefully, more relatives will be around next time or at least if I can't come, someone else will be able to.

The adults got to rehashing things my cousins and I did when it came to paying respects. Uncle Kin recalled how several years ago at his home, some of the cousins had to pray to a little memorial--incense, oranges, the usual set-up--in front of two chairs. My cousins Tina and Randy--brother and sister--were just little kids. After the praying and offering of food, a slightly spooked Tina asked "Do you think they're still here?" (They being the ancestors). Randy: "Nah, I think they left after they ate."

Another thing I noticed gazing around the cemetary was some of the names on the headstones. I think many people sometimes just pick an English first name by writing a phonetic spelling of their Chinese name. Now, I don't mean any disrespect by snickering at some of them. But honestly, somebody--a family member, Immigration, whoever--should of told these older Chinese folk that maybe that wasn't the best way to pick a name. What really surprises me is that I forget these names by my next by san visit and it seems like I'm hearing about them for the first time. Anywho, here's a sample of what I saw:
Dip Yee (Dip might be ripe for a playground ass-kicking)
Suey Gooey Fong (Rhyming in a name is almost never a good thing)
Sitting Woo (His Chinese name is pronounced Sitting; it's not that the Chinese word for sit is his name)
Hung Tang (Um, I don't think I need to elaborate except to say he is NOT related to my family)

OK, well, now that I've managed to poke fun at some innocent, dead and elderly Chinese people, here's hoping Hell isn't waiting for me.

Viva Espana, pollo asado y "The Finger Sweep"

It's been a while but exciting things happen to me less often right now. But a few unique events have occured in the past few days.

1)As of last Saturday, I became certified in adult CPR and administering aid to a choking victim. My friend Jen, who lives in Oakland, invited me out there to an East Bay Red Cross gathering of free CPR classes. We had to sit through lame instructional videos where choking victims just happened to know the universal sign for choking (which is wrapping your hands around your throat and coughing if possible). Ideally, you have to get consent from the victim before assisting them. But I'd feel like a freak going up to someone as calmly as the woman in the video did and saying "Excuse me sir. Are you choking? I can help you." The class instructor said if the person falls unconscious, then the consent is implied. Anyway, after the film, we adjourned to another room where we got to practice on a mannequin. Nothing is quite as fun as blowing air into a piece of plastic--as any man who's dated Cher can testify to. Since so many people showed up for the free classes, they just sort of did everthing at a drive-through pace. But I retained enough info to ace the written exam. I'm only licensed for a year. So anyone who goes unconscious after March 12, 2006 in my presence--sorry, you're out of luck.

BTW, after the training, Jen and I went to Jack London Square and found ourselves at House of Chicken and Waffles. With all my fond memories of chomping down fried fowl goodness at Roscoe's in LA, I couldn't not go in. I highly recommend that place if you feel like simple, home cooked eats. I had a crisp, not too oily chix breast, macaroni and cheese, greens and a biscuit...be right back...must go wipe the drool from my face. Those were pretty much the highlights of my weekend.

2)I got an e-mail from a woman in the syndicated permissions department for Conde Nast in Spain (!) An article I helped write and research with my fellow ex-Wired intern, David Goldenberg, (it was a take off of Coolest College Campuses called Coolest Corporate Campuses--we looked into employee perks of seven companies i.e. Pixar, Google, Microsoft)will be reprinted as is in the May 2005 issue of GQ Spain!! And I should get a bit of monetary compensation too. I don't really care about that. I wouldn't be half as ecstatic if it was any country other than Spain. As most people know, Espana has a special place in my heart. So, the notion that my name will most likely appear in a Spanish edition of a magazine makes me feel warm and gooey inside.

So, those are the cool things going on with me as of late. Oh, and here's a link to the first article I've written for the Palo Alto Weekly in a while:
http://www.paweekly.com/weekly/morgue/2005/2005_03_11.drue11.shtml

I interviewed a certified master of Sumi-e (Japanese brush painting) who was commissioned by the PA Pacific Art League to paint an original work. She's a very smart and talented lady but I've never met anyone who enjoys talking in metaphors. But it's personalities like that that make life not run-of-the-mill.

Look who's on the cover of the issue I'm published in! 

Here's to Iris

Well, I *finally* found a bookstore carrying the Feb/March issue of Audrey magazine. Before, I wasn't even sure the magazine had come out because the staff sends contributing writers a comp copy. And I was worried cuz I hadn't received anything. And I've been waiting for my article on Iris Chang's passing and accomplishments to come out. Back in November, the managing editor asked me to write something; I think it's mainly becuz I live so close to her family, hehe. The whole experience--learning more about her, talking to her husband, Brett, and her parents who seem so kind--was sorta surreal. In college, I actually did a phone interview with Iris and then I met her in person when she came to UCLA for a book signing. I remember that she was really nice and really passionate about having the Japanese government atone for the Nanking massacre. It's still hard to believe that someone like that would sink to a point where she thought suicide was the only solution. Nevertheless, I'm really glad I got this assignment. It seemed like a unique way to honor her. Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but I made a major error in my UCLA Daily Bruin article on her book, RAPE OF NANKING. I still cringe when I think of it. For some reason, my brain cells weren't all there and I had called Nanking a "village" when in fact, it was China's former capital city. I still feel bad and wonder when Iris read the article, if she thought I was a total ditz. I feel especially foolish because I still would like to have a career similar to hers--journalist and novelist. Though I'm more about pop culture and chick lit then hard-core investigative journalism that makes a difference. All in all, I'm really proud that I got a sort of do-over and the end result is an--I believe--accurate and in-depth portrait. The article won't be online for a couple more months. If you want to read it, you'll have to see if your local Borders or Barnes & Noble carries Audrey. And I know people will think I planned this, but you'll never guess who's on the cover of this issue. Look at the cover above.

Me "hanging" with Lea at the San Francisco Performing Arts Library in November '04. 

V-Day thoughts

So, I keep forgetting that today is the day Cupid turns a profit. On Saturday, I went to see Lea Salonga in concert at the Nob Hill Masonic Center in the city. If you didn't know that Lea is one of my favorite singers, then that means you and I must get to know each other better in the future. Most people haven't heard of her because at the music store, her work is filed under movie soundtracks (Jasmine in "Aladdin" and Mulan), showtunes (Kim in "Miss Saigon"--won a Tony for that--and Eponine in "Les Miz") or easy listening (a pop album that didn't fare too well here). She's from the Phillippines but resides in L.A. now. Anywho, San Fran was the first of four concerts on her first U.S. tour.

In between belting out Broadway numbers and Pilipino songs, she crooned "Someone to Watch Over Me," prefacing it with Valentine's Day talk about how it doesn't matter if you're gay or straight, she truly believes every person has someone he/she is meant to be with. Nothing against her ideals, but I don't know if I like the idea that there's only one person for me. How am I supposed to find him? There isn't any special detector or sonar equipment. Also, it's liket that scene with Meg Ryan and Carrie Fisher in "When Harry Met Sally." The man I'm supposed to be with could already be married. As I write this, he could be eating dinner with some other girl. And I only be left thinking "That b**** is eating with my guy!" BTW, I'm pretty calm right now; I know it may not seem like that, hehe. Well, I'm too young to be that cynical yet. Best be off before my ranting gets me tangled in a butterfly net. Laters!

Yes he's real and he's even cuter than Dumbo.