rick's cabaret

the bf finally returned from vegas last night.

he told me all about his unpleasant non-rev experience.

while i gave him a foot massage, we talked about our weekends.

right before he fell asleep, purposely nonchalantly, the bf says: 'oh, and on friday night, we went to a strip club.'

giggle.

the bf can be extremely sensitive about telling me things like that, even though i have suggested going to a burlesque show together. even though i told him about my lapdance encounter. even though i regularly tell people that my second job is at deja vu. i suppose that is a good thing, i have taught him well.

once, i went to rick's cabaret in downtown minneapolis. with my brother + friends. he bought me a lapdance for kicks. the girl was sinewy and dark-skinned. she kept telling me how hot i was, how i was the hottest asian in the place. she moved against me, grazed my boob with her lips, and when i noted how close she got to my nipple, she brushed my shirt aside with her teeth and bit my nipple. gasp! except i liked it.

but when i refused her advances for a kiss, she pouted. hey, biting nipples is one thing, but kissing on the lips? i don't know how many places her lips had been that night. all over the patrons at rick's? ew. i don't think so.

happy valley

another fabulous weekend.

early saturday morning we met at p's place. with the exception of s, we are not morning people. we are city girls.

we stopped for tea and muffins. gabbed the whole way, caught up. refreshed our girliness.

how fitting that one of the brightest spirits i have ever known lives on a road called happy valley.

the blessingway, an ancient navajo tradition, was beautiful. the love in the room was powerful, it swallowed us and rocked us back and forth between tears and laughter. if one is a reflection of the women around her, of lines of family and friends, then m should exude enough love and energy for all of us. and she does. she has the kind of love that embraces you, draws you in, and holds you like the mighty leo. and for that you cannot help but love back.

earthier than a bridal shower, the blessingway was an experience. i felt as if i was coming home, rejoining a circle.

one by one, we sat next to m, shared our stories, our letters, our poems, our wishes for her as she journeys into marriage.

and one by one, we were moved.

after the blessingway friends and family departed until there was 6.

what else could we do but make pizza and watch dirty dancing? reliving the 'nobody puts baby in a corner' moment and rewinding the face that baby makes as she cries out 'johnny!'

and what weekend would be complete without our pregnant girl donning a tank that says "are you my baby's daddy?"

and stopping for a picture with a giant mouse and buying wisconsin cheese?

how complete can one weekend be?

happy on happy valley road, indeed.

blessingway

heading to wisconsin in the morning.

in a wee six hours i must rise.

a blessingway is taking place for m, for she will be getting married very soon.

p, s, a, and i will carpool. i heart the girls. and i heart girltime.

a and i will most definitely ride in the backseat together, as we are the naughty girls who make noise and fight.

four long hours to madison. should be fun -- sure to have good stories when i get back.

other news:
the bf is currently in vegas. the city where we rolled the dice and thought maybe, just maybe, we could be together.

waver, finale

just as i was wondering what to write about today, i hear the door slam and the waver appears at my desk.

please see waver, part i and waver, part ii for backstory.

with an iced green tea from the tea garden in hand.

sweating in its tightly sealed plastic case, a lovely celadon color, the straw had not even punctured the top, the tea was a delicious sight.

thank you!

i couldn't just bring you any tea, he said, i wanted it to be from someplace nice, so i went to the tea garden and asked to see their best black and best green teas. and i picked green.

good choice! i told him it was my last day.

i asked him whom he was going to wave to when i was gone. he said he's not going to wave at all.

and then.....[wait for it]

he asked if he could take me out for a celebratory lunch.*

i politely said that i didn't know him and fumbled around a bit.

i have a hard time letting nice guys down. he's harmless, so what? with unsavory fellows, i have no problem saying, 'sorry, i have a boyfriend.' but for some reason i felt caught off guard and i couldn't say anything at all. dumb!

don't get me wrong, i love the bf. he is fabulous. i am very much in love. i am just an idiot. i know i'll probably be kicking myself for this one. oh well. i'll never have to see him again.

after the door slams shut i hear the familiar chair wheels of duff rolling to see me. i hold up one finger without turning around as i simultaneously read an email message from her titled: OMG and reads: IS THAT THE WAVER????

fin.

*if this counts as asking me out, then i have just lost a bet to the bf. i don't know what the terms are, but i have a suspicion i won't like it.

high school

i am going to my high school reunion.

on august 12.

what was that? i look too young to be 10 years out of high school?

blush.

nevertheless, i am going, and i am panicking. i told the bf that i am going so that i do not regret not going in the future.

to borrow a phrase from the bf: twisted logic? perhaps.

dear sophie,

remember when you wasted $40 per person and a lovely saturday to drive down to rochester to have dinner at the freaking ramada hotel with people you haven't talked to in at least 8 years? remember how even though you were not married and did not have kids that those are the most socially understandable measures of success when you come from a small town in southern minnesota and you suddenly felt like things had gone horribly, horribly wrong and you wondered how your life got to be the way it was? and that instead of focusing on other things you should have been man-hunting and baby-popping? remember person after person running up to you screaming 'sophie! you look exactly the same!' when you felt like running and threw up a little bit in your mouth as you pretended to remember his/her name and thinking that maybe looking exactly like you did in high school is not a compliment, it's just what people say when they don't have anything else to say? because really, who wants to look like they did when they were in high school? you curled your hair almost every day and wore baggy clothes! remember how the meal wasn't that great because it was hotel food for crying out loud and what did you expect? remember how you knew exactly what the phrase 'you can take the girl out of the small town but you cannot take the small town out of the girl' meant at the end of the evening? perhaps now you realize the reason why and you'll learn from this. that's why you are not going to your 20th high school reunion.

love,
future sophie

p.s. you are still fabulous

potstickers

i made gyoza for the bf last night.

it's the only thing i can confidently make, without a recipe, without fail.

one batch yields about 35 gyoza, so i thought there would be plenty for leftovers.

except i underestimated the bf and there were zero left.

afterwards, we snuggled and watched the british version of the office, guffawed.

during, i made an attempt to get him into my office, but he demurred. it's so funny because when we watch something together, he's all 'soph, i'm trying to watch' and i'm all, 'hit pause, baby, hit pause!' when i'm ready, pretty much anything can wait.

after my fourth try, he laughed and asked, 'have you ever not made the first move with anyone?'

'no!' i yelled, and humped his leg.

and then i realized it was true. with guys i've seriously dated, well, guys in general, i have made the first move.

[with the physical move, that is. i hardly ever ask guys out. but once a guy asks me out and i accept, i assume we are both interested. am i wrong?]

mostly because i like to get caught up in the moment. and i like kissing. and i'm impatient.

and also because i like to make it easy for boys. or maybe, okay fine, i'm just easy. or am i? wink.

thank you

last night, the girls threw me a surprise congratulations party.

earlier i had been bragging to the bf that i was going to s's house for wine and baked goodies, but surprise! he showed up as well.

the evening was perfect, with angel food cake and champagne.

i am convinced that angel food cake cannot be made by mere people, that it comes from fairies and is made out of clouds and sweet sprinkles, delivered on silk, floats when not anchored to the table, and created by delicate angel hands in a special kitchen. with a lot of love. oh, i hear rumors about angel food cake "mix" in a "box" but surely that is just an old wives' tale.

and oh! how i love the bubbly. i uncorked a bottle for the first time last night. people ran and hid behind furniture; it was chaotic as i attempted to pop the cork gracefully.

we toasted and cheered to my new job, but secretly i thought:

to s, of tough love and the kind of heart people dream about, for adding infinite value to my circle of friends.

to e, the most loyal and kind friend a girl could ever hope to have, who has wishes for others beyond the wishes for herself, for always being there.

to p, my little love, of few words but much meaning, for being too big for minneapolis but perfect for me.

and last, but certainly not least, to the bf, for making my life feel a bit more wonderful, a bit more fun, a bit more.

i am a lucky, lucky girl.

tea...se

john, the waver, just walked in.

he asked me how my weekend was.

he pointed to his starbucks and said next time he would bring me a drink.

i told him he didn't have to bring me a drink.

he said if he was going to bring me a drink, what would it be, a macchiato?

i told him that i like tea.

he asked if i preferred green or black.

i said, 'surprise me!'

hey, a girl's got needs, right? if he wants to buy me tea in the morning, why would i stop him?

i hope this doesn't mean i have to put out.*

*i am kidding, of course. i would definitely put out for a cup of tea. but as the bf would quickly point out, i am happily under the illusion that guys want to be nice to me, with no ulterior motive whatsoever other than to get to know me under strictly platonic conditions. couldn't the waver be the exception? for once? i'm willing to sacrifice a couple of cups of tea to find out.

y a l e

one of the bf's employees invited us over for dinner.

m is chinese and his mother is staying with him for the summer.

the four of us had a great asian meal.

m told us about his dog, living with his dad in beijing.

a photo of the dog was in a frame, inscribed with a familar name.

the bf said to m, 'i'm assuming you didn't name your dog yale. so did you name him yah-lay?'

m looked at him incredulously and said:

'no, his name is jimmy!'

to which the bf and i stared at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter. shaking, out of control laughter.

yah-lay. the bf will never live this one down.

like, totally

on my way back from the mailbox this afternoon, a gentleman in a suit called out to me, 'you're not going to jd hoyt's, are you?'

'nope, going back to work.'

'where do you work?' as he approached.

sigh. i knew where this was going.

he asked what i do. he asked if i knew anyone who did sports marketing. he asked if i liked athletes. he asked where i like to go out. he asked where the bf likes to take me.

i asked why his ring tone was the typical asian ring. i asked if he only likes asians.

he said he just got back from japan and he knew chinese.

he did, and i understood.

he asked me where i was born. i told him.

he was surprised and said, 'really? you have a southern accent.'

southern?!

he quickly reneged and said, 'actually, not southern, more valley. like southern california.'

awesome.

a cups

i should probably elaborate on 'the rack.'*

well, first me, then onto the rack.

i am 5'3". i weigh 108 lbs. i am asian. therefore, i am appropriately blessed with non-boobs, the kind that have trouble filling out a cups. that's right. trouble. filling. a cups.

that's why, when someone with a nice rack, k., innocently inquires about the sluttiness factor of her green camisole, i am perplexed. can't you still see your chest when you put something on over it? is everything below your chin suddenly invisible? do you not notice cleavage when you have it? do you think everyone sees something you don't? i can understand not being able to see your feet past the rack, but really? you have to ask me if there is too much going on up there? me, of little peanut m&m's? wee boobs?

hence the bafflement.

i am a big fan of boobs. after assuring k. that she should flaunt whatever she has, i reinforced by sending her text messages such as, 'awesome tits!' and 'great rack!' i assume they had the desired effect of making her feel boobilicious. or self-conscious. whichever.

i am such a good friend.

* this post is dedicated to k.: buena suerte

bagu

last december, i broke my arm.

the bf had planned a new york trip, and i was excited to go.

but that was not to be, and instead i found myself broken over the holidays.

depressed. slipping away.

'soph, stay with me.' stay with him, like he stayed with me in the emergency room.

the day after christmas, he read his present to me, the five people you meet in heaven.

side by side, in bed.

i listened, fighting tired eyes, wiping away tears.

discovered that i was falling.

tonight we had dinner at bagu, a new sushi restaurant.

we are easier now, more connected. he knows that i like a glass of wine with dinner. i know that he likes miso soup. we sit across from each other, more familiar with our faces, and we talk. we giggle over k.'s new nickname 'the rack.' he talks about how anxious he is about his job and i want more than anything to give him the peace he deserves. we consider each sending s. a text message to see whom she loves most. we order two rounds of the three wise guys roll. we share my plum wine.

and, i think, still falling.

trinket

after taking an enlightening quiz, i discovered that i am a 'deserving' shopper, which basically means that i feel like i am entitled to everything i buy. i like to treat myself to a trinket or two when i do something fantastic. and by fantastic i mean getting out of bed or having lunch.

while the bf comments that he is impressed by my 'restraint' (i.e., when i didn't buy a ring i wanted, which he surprised me with later), he has also laughed at my propensity to indulge (i.e., when i bought two pairs of shoes and a pair of boots in one trip).

but this, this, i need:



hmm. on second thought, i'm wondering if the sides of the ring look puckered like golf balls. cursed web image - get me to thy shop!

blossom

i am resigning today.

i am shaking.

i do not like to let people down, but today i am doing something for me.

my middle name is 'hun sui', chosen by my late grandfather, and roughly translates to a rice bud just before it blossoms.

meaning, my whole life i have felt that i am on the brink of something big, something amazing, something wonderful.

and this week i feel like i am blooming.

everything is light, i can't stop smiling, i am smitten.

and yet, nervous as hell because even though i have been so unhappy that i have broken down in tears, feeling heartbroken, and chanting 'bless this job for the person who will love it,' i still feel sadness with leaving.

i will miss the people, i will miss lunches with l., but i will not miss the job.

whom will john wave to when no one is in the window?

to you

i often send the bf letters.

i love paper. i love writing. i love correspondence.

the art of mail: the feel of fine paper, letterpress, smooth ink across a page, the run-through stamp, finding the right words, heartfelt.

email will never be comparable.

in the last letter i sent to the bf, i penned:

'i am looking forward to boston. i hope my family likes you because i will dump you if they don't.'

utter sweetness, no?

a compliment

i was grocery shopping. alone.

i have been running errands alone long enough to learn certain tricks to help me through them.

when grocery shopping, grab a basket -- that will usually yield two paper bags of groceries that a single girl can easily handle without asking for help (!) or overdoing it and risking looking like a fool.

picture me: broken arm, big fake fur coat covering it, black hat covering my greasy hair, haphazard makeup.

i cued up in the express lane.

a nice-looking, older man in front of me offered to let me go ahead of him.

'no thanks,' i smiled.

'you won't give me the honor of being a gentleman?'

'i'm good, thank you,' i said, eyeing the two items that he had.

'no, thank you,' he said.

'for what?' i asked.

'thank you for your beauty.'

now that, that was a compliment.

beantown

leaving for boston today.

it will be nice to see the extended family. it has been a while; it seems like with spouses, kids, and you know, life, we only get together when someone gets married.

they will meet the bf. eep!

nervous. but excited.

most of my family on my dad's side lives in new england, and i have dreams about being born and raised in boston. i'd have an accent and say 'cah' instead of 'car.'

i might also be even more high-maintenance than i am now, except i looked at my turkey on whole wheat today and thought, 'i really prefer my sandwiches cut diagonally' when it wasn't cut at all. whatever! it's just a preference. just like when i go out for breakfast and i want a little bit of sweet, a little bit of salty, and a bunch of different textures. i know what i want. it just isn't always on the menu. story of my life.

but there is something about the east coast, particularly where i'm going, that pulls me in. it's classic, yet has personality. like me! i feel like i have a very old soul, but i have a very young spirit.

anyway. excuse the rambling post. beantown or bust!

bring it

the bf and i do it like rabbits. seriously. a lot.

i have never met a match for me in that department, i think perhaps i am too oversexed for most.

then the bf comes along and tries to keep up. who can blame him? we have done it in the worst of times (when i had a broken arm, when he had bronchitis) and the best of times (when we were in cabo, when we were on the kitchen table).

last night, after a fabulous poker night with the girls, i wanted to play poke her.

me: 'babe, let's do it!'
the bf: 'sure. if you want we can do it. but in the future if you want to do it you should come home earlier.'

reeling.

did he just say what i think he said? did we suddenly turn into the couple that has to plan sex? did he actually say, 'come home earlier', as in, 'i'm too tired for sex after 11?' what's happening?

classic bf: 'what about earlier when you didn't want to do it?!'

erroneous. not having time to do it does not count as not wanting to do it. but i admire the effort.

sigh. maybe someday someone will be able to keep up with me.

i love that this blog is mine and not his. no option for rebuttal. hee-hee.

breaking routine

there is a guy who walks in front of our office every day.

and every day he waves to me. wholeheartedly waves. as in, he puts his body into it. and he smiles.

he's been doing this for a couple of months now, and i usually smile and wave back.

i figure i've been part of his routine: drive to work, get coffee, wave to girl, etc.

until today.

i saw him this morning and we waved. later i saw him standing in the window, trying to get my attention, waving.

i waved back. and laughed. nervously. move along*, i thought.

but he walked in the door. and stood in front of me. omg

it was as if a person that i saw in a mirror came out of it. not supposed to happen.

i'm john, he said, we finally meet! finally? we were fine 10 feet away from each other! things were great as is! i was happy with our (non)relationship! remember that time i saw you and waved? that was fun!

now what am i supposed to do with this new information? wave and mouth 'hi john!'? agh. the effort.

i frantically searched for a wedding band. this is awkward because a) he might think i was trying to figure out if he was single and/or b) he might think i was shy and couldn't look at him. but hey, i was panicking. was i rewarded with an eyeful of shiny ring? no dice, my friends, no dice.

i said, i'm sophie! and smiled. warily.

what's next? hugs?

seriously. he just walked by. again. and waved. again.

this could get old. oh wait, it just did.

*he tends to stand until i wave back, does he need my permission? perhaps we could have some fun here, after all. maybe tomorrow i won't feel like waving. ha.

down

perhaps it's the lingering effects of the full moon (in capricorn, thank you very much).

i am down today.

i love my life. i love being me. i do not want someone else's life.

and yet, i wonder, would anyone want mine?

i generally consider myself a positive person, so when i find myself having a day like this, i feel lost.

p. once told me that if we never feel lost, we will never find ourselves found. sigh.

pocket ace

s. says that everyone walks around with an invisible playing card on their forehead.

meaning, if i am a king, i will be drawn to other kings. if i am a two, i will be drawn to other twos.

this theory is interesting to me because although i do like the ace, what does that mean? i'm a one OR an eleven?

it makes sense because people born on december 24 (the day of complex emotions) are definitely this OR that people. not that i lack conviction. i know what i know. i know what i want. i am not even easily swayed. but, i'm complicated, and not easy to figure out, though i claim to be. hey, easy to bed is another story, right?

anyway, i am not a shades of gray person. i'm black. OR white. my mom tells me that i need to think in shades. i try. but when i see things in 'maybe' i get frustrated and fall back on myself. i don't like to swing back and forth. i don't even like to be indecisive. i like to know.

so what happened to the princess card?

full moon

it's nice to be home.

friday night: san fran was wonderful - we spent time with a bff of mine, a. she was endearingly the same; a. told the bf that she learned everything she knows from me. oh. dangerous. we had drinks at the starlight lounge, fly, asia de cuba, and de colonial. lemon drop. cosmo. lychee martini. mmm.

our car rental was a nissan 350z and goodness did we run that baby into the ground. wheee!

napa was breathtaking. and hot. spent time with his friends at the pool for half an hour. picked up some color. more color. i am anti-sun this year, after my losing battle against it in cabo. no more sun!

groom's dinner in the barrel room was amazing. one long, elegant table for sixty. hilariously, we sat at the head of the far end. welcome to our dinner. so nice of you to join us. we contemplated making an announcement, i.e., 'we're expecting!'

sunday we drove to the sterling vineyard and didn't get all the hype. heitz cellars was more my style. back to the pool. the bf makes it across the pool standing on 4 floatie beds. highlight of the weekend.

the wedding was great fun: food and dancing.

not quite used to a holiday that isn't just about the bf and me.

and, most likely because of the full moon, went over to s.'s house and had a good cry.

full moon = high emotion.

spot bodywork

i regularly see nell at spot bodywork.

for bikini waxes. every 1.5 months or so.

i'm told asians don't have a lot of hair anyway, that i'm lucky.

i went in for a wax yesterday. it had been 2.5 months.

she said, 'i don't think i've ever seen you this long before.'

refrain: hot wax. spread. paper down. riiiiiiiiiiiip.

'nell! i thought we were friends!' i screamed.

nell laughed, 'so, how's life been treating you?'

refrain.

'i am SO breaking up with you!' 'it's over, nell! i mean it!'

refrain.

yelp!

i squeezed my eyes shut as the tears came. i gripped my hands so tightly i left nail marks on my palms.

'hold your breath. this one is going to hurt,' said nell.

refrain. one. last. time.

holy. mother. of.

there is no bracing yourself for that kind of pain. even when you expect it, you don't. yelping is never flattering; ladies do not yelp. am i crazy for thinking that being hair-free is worth it? probably. i never said i wasn't.

lesson: never wait too long between wax sessions. lesson learned.

a little pinot

tomorrow i am going to napa with the bf. i heart holidays with him. we travel well together.

he is not the guy who buries himself in a map to get his 'frame of reference', nor is he the guy who has to fit everything in. he is, on most days, content to be where he is. still he indulges my desire to do. i like to see and try and taste and feel. i am easily distracted by a sight, a flash, a noise. i want to swim with the dolphins! i want to taste the best margaritas in cabo! and yet, together we lose track of time, we lose our sense of place, we lose ourselves in each other. and we laugh.

goodness, do we laugh.

but onto napa. i am looking forward to a nice glass (or forty) of pinot noir this weekend.

[Jancis Robinson calls pinot a "minx of a vine" and Andre Tchelistcheff declared that "God made cabernet sauvignon whereas the devil made pinot noir." Joel Fleischman of Vanity Fair describes pinot noir as "the most romantic of wines, with so voluptuous a perfume, so sweet an edge, and so powerful a punch that, like falling in love, they make the blood run hot and the soul wax embarrassingly poetic." Master Sommelier Madeline Triffon calls pinot "sex in a glass."]*

mon dieu. i hope so.

*wikipedia rocks

classic bf

"I've never driven through napa with anything but a convertible; I think we have to get one."

this, after saying, 'get a cheap one. i don't want it if it's not cheap.'

do you see? do you see how i would giggle? classic.

fourth of july

was spent curled in a ball on the bf's couch cursing the frigid 75 degree air. i woke up at 8am. and slept until 10:30. went upstairs and laid on the couch. slept until 1:30. woke up and drank something. slept until 4:30. woke up and cried about how much my back hurt. whimpered. slept until 6. sat up for three hours with the bf. the bf took me to the emergency room at 9.

labs, labs, labs. in my stints in the er, i have noticed that the x-ray people are always the happiest. my guy this time wheeled me to his room saying, 'you're not afraid of speed, are you?' the iv went in, fine. the urine test is my least favorite: how is one supposed to aim? bloodwork doesn't bother me, i just don't want to see the needle, and i hum to calm myself.

two hours later and yes indeed-y, i have an infection. one more hour later and i got my pill and prescription.

i am not good at being sick. moan.

with love

today is my parent's thirtieth anniversary.

they are my inspiration for marriage. my parents still hold hands. they fight. my mom thinks my dad is cute. my dad likes to buy my mom things like diamonds, which she loves, but also ipods, which she doesn't but pretends to like. my dad travels a lot, but they talk to each other every night. they drive each other crazy, but they are crazy about each other. my mom thinks that street food is dirty, but my dad likes meat on a stick. my mom laughs out loud when my dad takes picture after picture of the turkey that visits our backyard every day. when my dad is on a business trip my mom takes pictures of the turkey and sends them to him. my mom holds a grudge. my dad has short, louds bursts of anger. my mom and dad fell in love over ice cream. my dad wooed my mom with roses and ran for miles to see her. my mom buys my dad shirts and socks. my dad told my mom that he would cook for the first 6 months of their marriage. he didn't tell her that he would stop after that. my mom and dad go together like the banana splits they share. my dad doesn't lie to my mom about her cooking. my mom tries to watch what my dad eats, but she loves to let him indulge. my mom looks like she's 30. my dad takes a million pictures of every event (like dinner). my parents are still very much in love.

they are the reason why i know happily ever after exists.

muffuletta

last night was lovely.

muffuletta is one of my favorite dinner spots, and i always forget how charming it is. 'off the beaten path' (from l.), it never fails to inspire an enjoyable evening.

the seating arrangement (that's right) worked out perfectly, and everyone seemed to like the favors of novelty sunglasses, spf lip balm, a stir stick, gum, and a cd entitled 'watermelon seeds suck' containing favorite summer songs of the bf's and mine.

i sat down at the head of the table and promptly ordered a glass of pinot noir. the special catfish. strawberry shortcake.

when i dine out, there are a couple of things i need:
1. a great glass of pinot noir
2. low lighting
3. a meal without cream, cream cheese, ice cream, or sour cream

scott, our waiter, was wonderful about my lactose intolerance, but could not oblige my request to dim the spotlight that was blazing a hole into the back of my head and causing the backs of my legs to stick to my dress without drowning the whole restaurant in darkness. what the? is there something wrong with candlelight?

seeing the bf across the table was nice. the bf can be charming and winsome, and it is in those moments that i delight in our ability to work the crowd as a pair. i love people, i love to talk, i love to laugh, and all came together with ease.

sigh. another lovely evening. this time with friends. ahhh.