Morning morning.

It’s a quiet morning here in quiet Napa.

I’m out and about, sitting outside as the sun rises higher and higher, heating up the day.

I sit outside, as I try to put my thoughts into words, or try to come up with some thoughts.

I sit, looking at my screen with my face reflected back at me from the screen. It’s a little distracting.

The day is long and I don’t have much planned, so I’m here, doing my little finger tappings a little early.

I know I won’t finish this today and it’ll continue this weekend, but here I am and here we go.

By the time this publishes, I’ll be another year older, another year wiser.

By the time I post this, hopefully whatever shitty year that came with 38 will end and fade away and it’ll start new.

Where to begin?

* * *

38.

38.

38.

What was that number?

38.

I dubbed it The Year of Bad Decisions a few months ago and it seemed that way.

I’m trying to decide when it actually started, when I picked Chutney up from the wildlife refuge or when I picked him up and brought him home from Roswell.

I don’t know, but it was a decision based on what I felt was right, from guilt, and me trying to give back to the universe and do something nice.

Everything before that was fine. Everything else before that was just work and decisions to do thing that benefited the agency.

Besides, those things happened before 38.

I know there was a lot of decisions I’ve made at work, creating things and projects that were questionable, but I’m not going to blame that. Those weren’t bad decisions. Those were necessary decisions.

The bad decisions were how I handled stress.

The drinking.

I don’t handle stress well.

I felt the pressure and there was a lot of pressure to succeed in all the work that I’ve done.

I don’t want to fail. I don’t mind it, if it is just, but when I do something, I want to put my best into it.

I guess that could be a decision, but again, work related.

….I’ve lost my way…let’s try again.

* * *

Bad decisions.

Let’s get this out of the way.

The drinking.

That’s how I handle stress.

I drink.

Whiskey.

Neat.

Rocks.

Stress.

It numbs it.

I don’t want to think about the pressure from work.

I drink.

I don’t want to think about the shitty thing that happened with Relish because my decision to bring a new dog into the house.

I drink.

My decisions affected others.

Thankfully, Relish is in a good place and is back to normal and Chutney has found a good place with Carel.

In the end, it all ended well, with all parties involved.

38.

It was the most stressful year ever.

No control.

I didn’t have any control over anything.

I had no control over my pets. I could only do what I can, which was try to rehome Chutney and throw money at the vet to fix Relish. However much it took.

Stress.

Drinking.

I haven’t drank so much in my life.

I havne’t thrown up so much due to drinking in my life.

Bad decisions.

I know better.

I know that I shouldn’t over do it.

I know my limits, but I went over.

Inhibitions were down the more I drank and the higher the stress level.

Stress.

Alcohol.

Not a good mix, but that’s how I deal.

I didn’t want to think about the lack of control anymore.

I found a new normal as I nursed Relish back to health.

I found a new normal as I tried to find a new home for Chutney.

I found a new normal as I worked and developed things at work.

Finding a new normal.

I guess that can be another theme of 38.

A new normal.

* * *

Here again in my usual.

Getting back to this, Getting back to the mindless rumbling that I started earlier in the week.

Hopefully it’ll be focused and concise.

Hopefully, it’ll be something.

A New Normal.

A Year of Bad Decisions.

38.

It was a rough year.

As stated above.

The stress.

The drinking.

The decisions.

My coping mechanisms.

But, in the end, I came out stronger.

Life threw so many curve balls at me, but I managed to get a few hits off them and in the end, I came out in the end, a little better.

My life changed in the past year, as one would every year, but my 38th year reaffirmed what’s important to me.

It helped me realize my faults as a person and it did help me realize how strong I am. I didn’t give up.

I didn’t give up on Relish.

To me, she was important. I was willing to throw money at fixing her, to keep her in my life, to right what I did wrong.

That was important to me.

I know I’ve always have this righteous judgmental attitude on many things and this was no different.

I fucked up. I was in a tight spot and things went sour, but I had to right it. I had to do what must be done to make sure things are all right, at any cost.

Money isn’t important to me. This past year just reaffirmed that.

As long as I’m fiscally secure, I don’t care how much I make.

Money is important. It’s important to me and my family, but it’s not the be all end all of things.

My mental health is more important.

Maintaining my stress level and being calm and Zen.

That’s always been important and this past year had tested me on that. I failed.

I failed so hard, but I managed.

When things got rough, I adjusted. I saw the light and picked up a new normal. I adjusted to a new life.

In the end, things worked out and that’s all I can hope for.

There’s a new status quo and things are good.

There’s a new normal.

* * *

Going out. Socializing.

I’ve been on this whole Year of Yes kick for a while now. The whole point for me is to say yes to going out.

I know if I don’t, I won’t go anywhere. I won’t meet people. I won’t socialize and maybe ultimately, I won’t meet a girl.

That’s what it all comes down to, right, but in the end, it’s all about being a little more social, getting out of my comfort zone.

In the past few years, as I go out more and more, socializing had become a lot easier for me.

I don’t feel uncomfortable being in social situations.

There are times when I do get the feeling of What the fuck am I doing here? but they are few and far between.

I think the company and the type of event helps too.

These little social events are mainly happy hours with coworkers. Most of them are going away happy hours and what not, so they aren’t too taxing for me.

They aren’t like going out and clubbing or hanging out or anything. They are simple and more manageable.

Talking to people gets easier. Alcohol helps, too.

This past year was no different.

I’ve learned to go out and get drinks with my coworkers.

I learned to talk to people I normally wouldn’t talk to.

I know to many, this isn’t much growth, but to me it is.

I know to many, they already think I’m a social butterfly.

That comes with age and experience.

If they’ve seen me a few years ago, they would say something different.

If they’ve seen me 15 years ago, they’ll know how far I’ve came.

I’m on my way to becoming a full fledge adult.

* * *

38.

As I wind down my last years of my 30s and head into a new decade, I’ve decided to act my age.

Adulting.

38 was the last year that I grew out my hair for donation. That was my third time. After that, I’ve decided not to grow it out anymore.

Having a man bun or pigtails in your 40s isn’t my thing.

I don’t think I can pull it off.

I decided it was time for me to give adulting a shot.

38 was the last year that I could have done it.

39 will be the year that I’ll prepare myself and work on being an adult.

Sohail brought up an interesting idea that the last year of each decade, one tends to do something outrageous like running a marathon or what not to make you feel young again.

I don’t know what mine is. Definitely not a marathon.

Again, I don’t think my knees could handle it.

Deciding to start adulting was probably one of the better decisions I’ve made in my Year of Bad Decisions. Of course, it’s a little too early to tell.

Fuck, it could be one of the worse decisions I’ll ever make, but I won’t know until I get there.

Let’s hope not.

* * *

Old.

38.

It was a year when I finally feel how old I am.

My body hurts.

My body is always tired.

It could be that I’m not getting enough iron or vitamins in my body.

My body felt like it did a few years ago before I started taking iron supplements.

I stopped taking it for a few years because of my stomach issues, but I’m back and I still tired.

38.

Fucking old.

Body hurts.

Knee hurts.

I’m out of shape even though I walk on average 9-11 miles a days.

I stand most of the day.

It isn’t until I lay down after dinner when my body collapses and by 9, I’m ready for bed.

I still remember a few years ago it wasn’t until 10 pm.

Age.

Old.

My legs haven’t felt the same after the fiasco that was my Yosemite trip.

The cramping fucked up my legs.

My knees always hurt.

I know how my brother feels now.

Fucker.

Old.

Age.

Getting old sucks.

* * *

This entry isn’t going how I hoped.

It’s usually on the second day when I can pull my head out of my ass and write something.

Hopefully today will be no different.

Fuck it…let’s go.

38.

I’ve already documented my problems or touched upon the many issues that I had with the past number.

I’ve also hinted at the direction that I want to take my last year of my 30s, which has become my favorite decade of my existence to date.

In the past 10 years, I’ve found myself, grown comfortable in my skin and accepted my flaws and worked on so many issues that I had.

I’ve come a long way.

What’s next?

What else is there for me to work on in the coming decade? What’s there for me to do as I start adulting?

I want to take this last year to prep for that, for my next decade.

I hope that it’ll be better than this last one. I hope that it’ll be more growth and more self-discovery.

I can only hope.

This past number taught me a lot.

It taught me many lessons and failures and all I can do is to accept them, learn and grow.

It taught me that not all of my decisions are great ones.

It taught me that I don’t have to do everything that I think is right. I have the control.

I don’t have to cave into the decisions of the masses or other people.

All decisions are mine to make, but when I make a decision, I have to live by them and commit.

If things go wrong, I am liable. I am responsible. The decision was ultimately mine to make.

Own up to it.

I’ve been good on that part. Not blaming others for my mistakes.

I know that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, especially on things that are out of my control.

I didn’t know Chutney was so aggressive even though I had a feeling it might be the case. I knew, but I didn’t follow my gut.

I made the decision, things happened, and I had to take responsibility for it.

Do I regret what I did? In a way, no. I wanted to save the dog. I wanted to give the dog a chance at a life than being abandoned by people that couldn’t’ take care of it.

I was compelled by my heart and my conscience.

That part of me will always be with me. I’m compassionate.

I just need to learn there is a time and place for things, I don’t have to act on everything, and I can’t save everyone.

38.

It may not seem like it, but the Universe has a way of making wishes come true. It maybe not seem like it, but it does.

I handle stress like how many others do, and that’s by drinking.

I know that when I drink, I can get a little belligerent and in the long run, unsafe. I take many more risks than I normally would.

My health, especially my mental health, had been one of the things that I had been focusing on in the past year or so.

The pressures and stress from work brought to my attention how unhealthy my copying mechanism is.

I’m aware of it.

I’m not an alcoholic, but I do use it to unwind and decompress.

Spending money on food and restaurants is another way that I deal with stress. I’m not as concerned about this, but sometimes I can go all out.

Food comforts me.

Alcohol numbs me.

38.

The Universe in its strange way helped me realize my problem and I’m making an effort to be more responsible.

No over drinking.

No driving drunk.

Plan ahead.

I’m not perfect, nor will I ever be, but I’m aware. That’s number one. Being aware of the issue, so I can fix it.

Owning up to my faults and realizing that I want to change.

Fix it.

The Universe…it’s a love hate thing between the two of us.

Hopefully we’ll have a better understanding of each other in the future.

It works in mysterious ways.

* * *

As tough as I thought the last year was, there’s good that came out of it.

I’m learning to be more patient and learning to take care of my mental health.

I know there were many things that I need to do and be more on top of.

I can’t put so much pressure on myself, especially when it is out of my control.

I need to be easier on myself.

Life.

38.

Give myself a break.

Cut myself some slack.

Things will always get better.

There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.

See the light.

38.

You were rough.

In the end, it was a much-needed test of patience and lesson that I needed to learn.

It’ll be a number that I’ll look back and remember how I handle things. I survived it with wounds, but I stronger because of it.

39.

I welcome you.

It’s a blank slate, a white canvas waiting for my strokes.

The Universe, whatever you have in stored for me, bring it.

With this, it’s over.

39, let’s go.

…baby, I, dancing in the dark…

In just a little over a week this dreaded number will roll over one.

In just a little over a week the havoc that I associate with being 38 will be over.

In just a little over a week, things will change.

I hope.

I so fucking hope.

38.

It was a messed up year. There were a lot of good, but there were a lot of bad.

Stress.

Stress.

Stress.

Much of the downward spiral started around that time.

I went off without a care on my little yearly special weekend trip with a tacked on business related trip the same time last year. Then, I decided to get Chutney.

Things were fine until I got Chutney home.

38.

The year of bad decisions.

Hopefully, by turning a new number, things will get to a better place.

It already seems that way.

My big migration project is over. I don’t foresee me working on weekends much anymore unlike the end of last year till last week.

Social Bridge can officially retire and SharePoint establishes itself within our agency.

It’s not without its push back or issues, but there’s some light as more and more people use it.

There’s a light at the end of this chaos.

38.

Year of bad decisions.

We shall see.

I’m sure I’ll do my deeper diver, my usual another year older, another year wiser reflection post after my little trip, but i just wanted to get some things out of the way as I tune my brain into it.

* * *

Food.

I’ve been thinking nonstop about food.

Dinner. What I’m going to cook and how I’m going to cook it.

Lunch.

Should I be getting lunch?

It’s been a thing of late that I’ll splurge and get lunch on the weekends because of the overtime that I put in. I use the overtime as an excuse to get lunch; it supplements my meal.

Now that I’m not working overtime anymore, I’m unsure if I should.

I know that there’s an expensive trip coming up to, in terms of food and such.

I don’t know.

Research.

I need to research places to eat and wineries for the trip.

Vacation mode.

That’s what I’m going to be in this coming week.

Not much will be done.

Food.

I’ve been craving McDonald’s for some reason. I don’t know why, but I am. I want a Big Mac.

Maybe it’s the disappointing dinner that I had last night. I don’t know, but eh.

Eh, indeed.

I’ll figure something out.

McDonald’s maybe cheap, but it’ll be expensive in the long run.

I’ll figure something out.

I’ll cave to my cravings.

I just need food.

I just don’t know what.

Food.

Pork belly with risotto.

Marinated with Asian flavors, pan seared, broiled, and then deep-fried.

Done.

Chinese food.

Hop Li.

Been craving that.

Birthday week.

Do it.

Lazy.

Let’s see how it goes.

Let’s see how it goes.

* * *

I think I’m done for a while.

Done. Done.

It’s my choice.

It’s a choice made from determination, conviction, and fear.

It’s a choice made from not wanting to make any changes.

I know my faults. I know my fundamental psychosis that prevents me from getting into relationships and the reason cuts deep.

Sure, a large part of it is fear. Not of rejection, although it does play a small part in it, no, it’s something larger.

I’ve written many posts on this, time and time again. It’s a common theme that comes up in my writing.

Father issues.

Fear.

Getting close, giving myself completely to someone and then having it just stripped away.

Fear.

Losing my independence, which I sacrificed so much for.

Independence. It was my final gift.

I cherish it.

The last thing I ever gave to my father that may have made him proud.

I know my issues.

I just don’t know when I’ll ever be ready to let them go.

No idea when or if I ever will.

Who knows?

* * *

I’m sensitive.

That’s what an intern said to me.

I’m a sensitive soul.

I put up a front.

Everyone sees through it.

I have my moments like everyone else.

Who doesn’t have their moments?

Things are changing. Time changes things.

Action changes things.

You have to want to change for it to happen.

Right now, my desire to change isn’t as strong as my desire to just be.

Until that happens, life will continue on this path that I’ve carved.

I have no problem with that.

I live.

I do what I need to do.

I enjoy my time, plan my little trips, and do my little thing that gets my mind off of work.

Even then, that’s getting a little tougher as I gain more and more responsibilities.

I take one day as a time.

That’s all I can do.

Time, it’s all I have and with each year, it becomes limited and the shit thing, we don’t know how much time we have.

No point in stressing about things that you have no control over.

There’s no point thinking about what could have been.

Enjoy what little time you have and live it and spend it however you want.

If it is alone, so be it.

It’s your choice.

It’s your lifestyle.

Live life.

Your life. Your rules.

* * *

I want to get back into screenwriting.

I want to get back to writing, creative writing and not this.

This has its place, but I want something more.

I need to get my creative juices back. They’ve been dormant for a long time.

Besides my photography from time to time, I haven’t done much creating and that’s a little disheartening.

I need to do more research on the Hallmark Channel Christmas movies.

I need to watch more of them.

It’s a little too….safe, sugary, and just blah happy for my taste, but for I find them fascinating.

Apparently for the 2018 Holiday season, Hallmark will release a record 34 Christmas movies.

THIRTY-FUCKING-FOUR HOLIDAY MOVIES.

How the living fuck?

Seriously?

How the living fuck?

Fascinated.

I thought I was losing my mind during last Christmas at Asensio, but no. Each day was a new Christmas movie.

Let’s do it.

Let’s think of a story and do it.

Writing project, 2018.

Do it.

* * *;

It’ll be a few weeks before my another year, another year wiser entry and turning another number.

The last year of my 30s.

To date, it’s been my favorite decade.

I’m hoping my last special weekend trip for my thirties will be fun.

I’m looking forward to it.

It’ll be a weekend of nature and wine.

Two of my favorite things.

Bring it.

I think I’m good at my job.

My boss received an email from an associate on Friday praising me for providing solutions or answers to a problem, issue, or idea someone had.

It was simple. They wanted a way to have a centralized location for an Adobe File to live while it’s out collecting signatures.

I like to experiment and try out new things and see how things work. I’ve been seeing the Adobe Sign app on Teams and I see it on SharePoint and wanted to test it out.

So I did and it seems to work similar to how they wanted it to work and I sent the associate examples of it as an option.

It is what it is. I don’t think I do anything out of the ordinary or go out of my way to do anything. It’s my job.

Users come to me with an ask or an issue and I do my best to fix their issue or answer their questions.

Maybe it’s part of my upbringing being an immigrant or maybe it’s part of my Customer Service history.

It’s my job to help.

But it was kind of nice to hear that though.

It was too much, but nice.

* * *

Tired eyes and broken souls.

Work.

I got a late start in the day today and my morning errands took way too long. I haven’t done much work that I need to yet. I just sent out a few emails and set a few things off, but nothing like the usual of me starting to sit down and do some work between 8:30 – 9:30.

I probably just did about 30 minutes of work and I’ll take that onto the afternoon.

I have many more migrations to do and a bunch of errors that I need to finish and update Dash promos and what not.

Fun fun.

Whom am I kidding? Working over the weekend isn’t fun.

Sure, I don’t do much on the weekends anyway. This keeps me proactive and busy, but still, I wouldn’t mind just chilling and binge watching all of the shows that I’m behind on.

Not this weekend though. There are things that people need me to upload and if I’m not doing it, they won’t get it.

C’est la vie.

* * *

Mandatory Happy Hour!

There was a going away happy hour this past Wednesday and I was the only “mandatory” attendee and doing my due diligence of saying yes, I showed up and it was fine.

The organizer of course, was a no show.

Always.

But, it wasn’t bad.

It was my first liquor/whiskey since fucking January or the last time I went out with Anosa, but I did fine. I didn’t over extend myself. I didn’t overdo it. I think I had about three, maybe four, but I wasn’t even buzzing.

Jameson – rocks.

It’s not my usual neat, but I’m adulting and need to know my limits and take care of myself.

I was surprised I stayed so late, but overall, it was a good night.

It was a bad day for me too. I was feeling tired and it felt like I was coming down with something. Body, fatigued, dying, but I showed up.

Organizer didn’t.

Lame.

I got home close to 9pm and fucking crashed. My body welcomed the sleep. I felt better in the morning; the sickness was no longer there. The alcohol worked its magic and disinfected my body.

* * *

The LA Marathon is tomorrow.

I wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for Ms. David’s email.

Grant it I never do anything or go anywhere on the weekends anyway, plus I have to work, but there could have been something that came up or if I wanted to do something on the whim, but now, I know, I ain’t going anywhere tomorrow.

Definitely only doing my Volcano Tea and writing run and back home.

Good excuse to be a homebod.

* * *

There are times when I feel compelled to do something like running the marathon.

Honestly, I think if I trained, I could do it. I’m not out there to break any records and it’ll be my first, so I’ll be setting my own PR.

Then there are times when I think, fuck running. It’s the worse. My knees? Nope.

They’ll be gone.

Done.

Over.

Not worth it, but I commend those that set out to finish it or even attempt it.

I wish Ms. David the best of luck in the marathon.

She can do it.

* * *

Words.

They escape me.

My mind, blank and Zen. No words come to help with these finger-tappings of mine.

There is no direction. There is no subject.

Aimless.

Words.

They’ll flow into nonsense.

Nothing to say.

Nothing to write.

All settled into the status quo that is life.

All settled into the new normal that I have adapted to.

Words.

They’re gone.

* * *

I don’t need you. I’m so independent.

That’s me.

I don’t need anyone.

I’m so independent.

I’m in my element when I’m alone.

Being around people, being with people, gets easier and easier as I get older.

Socializing is easier. I can do it when I want, but that’s not often.

Meeting new people gets easier. Being in crowds gets easier.

Growth.

But…I don’t need anyone.

Never had and I don’t think I ever will.

I know this might all be an excuse to explain to myself why I’m single and alone and with no prospects of finding someone.

I know a large part of it are insecurity issues, but I do have to say that one of the biggest reasons is that I enjoy being on my own.

I’m independent.

I don’t want to give that up.

I don’t know what it means to be with someone and having them cramp my space.

I don’t know how to operate like that.

It’s foreign to me. So foreign.

Time will come. Things get easier.

With growth and knowledge and a shit ton of patience, all of this will change and who knows, I’ll be with someone.

All on my own terms.

I don’t need anyone. I’m independent.

* * *

…or the lack thereof.

I have none.

I have so many ideas in my head of things that I want to accomplish. These are not overall life affirming things that I want to accomplish, but simple things that I want to do, like things that I want to cook or experiment with, things that I want to write, or little things that pertains to other hobbies that I have.

Nothing earth shattering like picking up and moving to Chicago or moving home or going on some far off land for vacation by myself again.

No, nothing like that

Simple easy things.

No motivation to do it.

Exercise.

No motivation.

I keep telling myself that I should exercise more when I get home. Do some yoga like I did last year or lift some weights when I’m watching to to help pass the time.

I can multitask, but no. Nothing.

I just lay on the futon either watching the show or browsing the internet on my iPad.

Maybe I need to remove myself from the internet or set rules for myself that I can’t jump online from this time to that time.

I don’t know.

Maybe I can alternate lifting and yoga during the week right when I get home from walking Pickles and then I’ll start cooking whatever it is that I’ll be cooking for dinner.

No fucking clue.

I have these ideas in my head and they make sense. These are all good things that I should do and are very easily achievable, but I don’t. I don’t start.

I sit.

No motivation.

I need someone to kick me in the ass and get me going.

Do it.

Hahhaha..Fucking Nike.

Just do it.

Just do it, all right.

* * *

Work.

I’m motivated to do work on the weekend.

Work.

I’m motivated to do overtime.

I don’t know why. I know that I really don’t have to, but I do it anyway.

That to me is more important.

Maybe it’s because they pay me for it, but I know it’s because it’s my fucking damn job.

I’m behind quite a few things that pertain to my job and tasks. Many of them can be handled in the office but I’m pulled in so many different directions that I really can’t focus on anything.

I have to sit down in a quiet environment so I can put my full focus on it and surprisingly this whole Social Bridge and SharePoint migration is a part of it.

Also, I need to watch a few videos on how to use powerapps and the videos on how to use smartsheets.

So behind of learning.

So behind.

Work.

There are many things to do and I’m glad that Carloz is there to help and do more of the advance things that I just don’t have the talent nor the knowledge on how to do.

One day, I’ll catch up on things and I’ll be able to just relax and do nothing on the weekend, but at the moment, I’m not even close.

* * *

Let’s talk about something fun.

Let’s talk about my special weekend.

I’ve booked my trip and now I need to start planning.

I hope the weather holds up, but it’s not going to stop me.

Like most of my trips, it involves nature and getting away.

This year, Bay Area and Muir Woods State Park.

I’m excited to see the beautiful and majestic Red Woods. I don’t know how much hiking there is there, but there are surrounding areas that have some trails.

Of course, like normal, I’ll plan an exhaustive day the first day and relax the second day.

Plus, I planned a Napa/Wine Tasting trip too.

Hopefully I don’t get out of hand and get fucked up, but I want to relax, sip some wine, eat some cheese and have a good time.

I’m excited about the food and need to do some research on the restaurants that are around the area.

It’s fast approaching and I have limited time!

I usually not a planner, but I do like to have a rough idea of what I’m going to do so I don’t waste any time figuring out what to do while I’m there.

I think it’ll be fun.

Nature and food.

Two of my favorite things.

Let’s hope this year goes smoother than last year. If anything does come up, like a fucking lost dog, I have to man up and not, NOT, get involved and let it be.

Someone nicer will take care of it.

I don’t want another guilty conscience.

I want a better year.

I want to make better decisions.

Oh man, I think my another year older, another year wiser entry for this year will be interesting.

Fucking year of bad decisions.

38.

Fuck you.

* * *

Fuck it, let’s start researching.

I still need to figure out where to go for a quick weekend trip with Pickles sometime this month.

Over.

Out.

Back.

Relaxed.

Things are winding down at work, well at least the stress of everything form the launch and development of everything.

Everything winds down and now, it is just life.

We have things to do and to finish up, but it’s not that building pressure of making sure everything runs smoothly.

Sure, there were hiccups and what not and sure there are always people who will never like change and what not, but it is what it is.

Things finished and I can breathe again.

I can finally find a balance and some sense of the routine that I had before.

Sure, I want things to change and to adapt to certain things, but there are things that I want back.

I’ve picked up a few new habits and added it to my routine, some good and some bad.

I don’t read anymore. That’s a lie.

Let me rephrase, I haven’t been reading as I normally would. I still read, but it’s not the reading that I use to do. Not my novels or books.

No, it’s more internet searching, news and memes.

I’ll go to bed an hour earlier than I normally would and just lie there looking at these memes and reading through the day’s news. Usually I would spend this time reading a book or at least finishing the shows that I’m watching.

Maybe I have no interest in some of the shows that I watch or follow. That’s one thing that stuck from the past year or so of working and stressing.

The memes thing was new too. Ever since I found imgur somewhere and during my Italy trip, it had become a daily staple of things that I would go through. It’s mindless.

Maybe that’s what I need in my life now, mindless things.

But, there’s a new normal and I’m adjusting, but the hallelujah of all things is that I don’t feel as stressed as I did in the past couple of months, or earlier this year.

I can finally breathe.

* * *

The other day I ran into a coworker of mine to catch up. She asked me about my trip to Yosemite and told me the pictures I took looked amazing.

The conversation then dovetailed to her glad to see that I’m posting cooking pictures and vacation/hiking pictures again on my feed.

She was glad that things are back to normal because there were quite a few posts that were me stressing and stress eating.

She specifically mentioned the one where I noted that I almost lost my shit in the office.

She thought that it was her questions that prompted me to lose my shit, but it wasn’t. I don’t even remember specifically what her issue was, but it had to do with SharePoint and creating links to her vendor.

I know many people reached out to me during that time, worried about me and I genuinely feel humbled that people would do that.

My coworkers, friends, and family cared enough about me to reach out and ask about how I’m doing.

I know I talk a lot of shit about not having friends or being antisocial, which I do and am, but I do have a good community of people that I interact with.

It’s nice, to know that people genuinely care about you and your wellbeing.

It makes things a little bit better.

Things are getting there.

Normalcy.

* * *

Normalcy.

It’s quiet today.

The weather in SoCal has been a little erratic as of late. There was a cold spell and now it’s raining.

I think the rain is gone for another week and then it’ll kick back up again. I’ll take all that I can get. I miss weather.

It was falling hard yesterday. It was nice.

Like any other weekend since the end of last year, I’m out here taking a reprieve from working from home and jotting down my thoughts and clearing my mind.

Working on the weekends has been a new routine too. Soon, it’ll be over and things will become a new normal.

Life is a cycle of new normals.

Adapt. Change. Adapt.

Cycles.

Hair.

It’s finally gone. I chopped it all off Wednesday night and shipped it out to Children With Hairloss the next day.

No more.

Hair.

The journey is over.

Now is time to attempt to be an adult? That’s the plan, anyway.

Adulting.

What fun.

* * *

Hair.

It has so much power.

In movies, it’s usually a symbol of a woman’s femininity and a result of a societal construction of man’s power over a woman.

The long hair makes them more desirable to a man, and that’s the whole point of a woman’s worth. A man’s property.

It’s a common theme in many movies where a woman would cut her hair and then kill herself to escape the man and society’s power over them and to finally have some control over their lives and be free.

I have a similar relationship with hair, especially when I was younger.

It was a control thing.

There will be times when things were getting out of control or when things didn’t go my way, I would get angry and shave my hair off.

Control.

Many exert their control in different ways. Some get tattoos and piercings. Others cut themselves.

I shave my head and a few years ago, I decided to grow it out as a form of control.

* * *

I didn’t realize how much of a control freak I was until I went to therapy. My therapist brought that to my attention and it blew my mind.

It’s true. I like control.

I like control over my life. I like to make my own decisions and don’t like it when forced to do things.

I get easily frustrated when things don’t go my way or when things get out of my control.

In the past few days, I’ve been trying to figure out what exactly prompted this…this need to do something at that time. I wanted to figure out what prompted that rut that I was in and it didn’t really come to me until yesterday or even a little earlier today.

I noted before that around 2011 or maybe about 2012 that things felt a little weird and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I got very sensitive and then the mid-life crisis started to happen. I felt like I was in a rut.

I couldn’t figure out what prompted it.

I’m sure there were little things here and there, like pressures from family to settle down and get married along with societal pressures of whatever it means to be an adult, especially someone who was in their early thirties and what comes with that…marriage, relationships, children, etc.

It all revolves that. That pressure. Societal pressure. Family pressure.

That was a part of it.

I now think there was something deeper, something a little simpler.

2011 was my 10-year anniversary of moving down to Los Angeles to live. I’m sure there were things about figuring out what I have done in those past 10 years and pressure I was putting on myself. The usual bullshit.

The rut and midlife crisis didn’t really hit me until the end of 2012 and early 2013, when I would go months and months without getting a haircut.

Why? It would have been my dad’s 10-year anniversary of passing away.

I didn’t realize that until yesterday morning, in the shower.

10 years.

I didn’t realize it at that time. I was aware of his anniversary, but I wasn’t aware of how it was affecting me.

10 years.

Pressure.

10 years.

Wanted to do good by my family and my mom and ultimately my dad. I want to get married and have children. The usual fanfare of what being an adult means and the girl that I’ve been crushing on didn’t feel the same about me.

Disappointment upon disappointment.

10 years.

There was just a lot of shit at that time.

My mid-life crisis.

The MLC.

That prompted me to do so many things.

I was living and was genuinely happy. I went on my road trips and my vacations, but ultimately, there were too much pressure.

5th uncle wanted me to get married, have children.

Uncle Sat telling me that mom would cry whenever anyone mentions if either my brother or I were married and have children.

Pressure.

There was a lot.

I want to make my mom happy. I love her.

Just pressure.

Mid-life Crisis.

10 years.

I wanted to make my dad proud and he passed away.

I’m all kinds of fucked up in the head. Still am. Just a little.

I’m aware and I know my faults and my psychosis.

It helps to be so aware.

* * *

2013.

10 years.

That was when I decided to grow my hair out and donate it.

My hair was getting long and I didn’t know what to do. I had no motivation to do anything.

MLC. Rut.

During that time, they started production for The Fault In Our Stars movie and Shailene Woodley donated her hair to Children With Hairloss.

I thought that was such a great thing to do. I never grew my hair out before.

I hate long hair.

I wanted to feel that I was in control. I’ll grow my hair out to see if I can do it.

There was a length that I was aiming for, 10 inches.

Let’s see if I can make it.

That was the inspiration.

The rest was history.

My hair grew and I went with the flow of trying to figure out what to do with it.

My funny and funky hairstyles, pigtails, buns, and what not were all new.

Ultimately, that experiment did help me grow. I’ve became more comfortable in my skin and grew even more comfortable with myself.

Confidence and yes, all of it was to help deal with my father’s passing.

All of it was done to deal with is 10 year anniversary.

It makes sense now.

* * *

That was five years ago.

I’ve since donated my hair three times.

The first time, I fell a little bit short of my 10 inches, but I did grow enough to donate my hair.

The second and this last time, I did meet my 10 inches goal. Not all strands were 10 inches, but many were and I was okay with that.

Will I do it again?

I tell myself no.

I’m approaching 40 in a little over a year.

I know there’s nothing special about turning 40, but isn’t that old enough to stop fucking around and just try to be an adult?

I know I talk about how I don’t feel like an adult, especially compared to what I felt adulting meant when I look at my parents.

I’m 40 and I still feel like a fucking kid.

I don’t know what I’m going to do or how to act when I start adulting, but maybe long hair and pig tails ain’t the way to go.

We shall see.

I may realize that all of this thinking about being an adult is just shit talk and do whatever I do anyway. Or maybe I’ll have another mid-life crisis and feel that my life is going off the rails and need another control trip.

I don’t know.

I have no idea.

As of now, there’s no plan to grow my hair out.

I love the short hair.

I love my buzz cut.

It’s so freeing.

I didn’t hate my long hair. I grew to love it. It was so freeing in another way, especially how I wore my hair.

I didn’t give a fuck what other people thought about how I wore my hair.

Pig tails. Multiple buns and whatnot.

Did. Not. Give. A. Fuck.

None.

Zero Fucks.

So freeing.

I wore it with confidence.

It seemed that many were fans of it and I’m sure many weren’t and I couldn’t care less.

I was doing whatever I needed to make it seem like it was less of a chore and more of a fun thing so I can do a good deed.

* * *

Hair.

Gone.

It was a long, fascinating, and wild journey with my hair these last five years.

It was free and also a good growing and teaching time for me.

I’ve learned a lot about myself and I learned to be more giving and generous.

It was a growing experience to be better person, which I strive to be every day.

I’m not perfect.

That’s unreachable and definitely unreasonable.

I know my flaws.

I’m okay with them, as long as I know about them, so I can slowly chip away at it and strive to be better.

Hair.

It’s made me a better person without me even knowing it.

It was just a weird thing I decided to do on a whim and it changed me so much and in so many ways.

Hair.

Even though it is gone, I’ll never forget the lessons that it taught me.

Embrace yourself. Be better. Be courageous. Be confident.

Ultimately, somethings just aren’t about you.

Happy Chinese New Year!

It’s the Year of the Dog and we are fully in it now.

Sheeps and Dogs don’t mix, so it might not be a good year for me, but we shall see. I do have to say, I’m much calmer and less stressed than I was previously.

Maybe it is because of the launch and that people are using SharePoint. Of course, there are problems and issues, but that’s any software and server.

But, here I am, back at it, the grind, settling into the quiet routine I setup for myself.

Here I am.

Happy Chinese New Year!

* * *

I drove up to Fresno for the first to visit family. It was hectic and crazy with everyone back home for Chinese New Year’s.

I met my two new little cousins, Santino and Amira. I think that’s what their names are, but they are cute little babies.

Unfortunately, baby Amira was sick and she’s so tiny.

Thankfully, they both didn’t cry when I held them.

I still got it….for the most part.

Family is good. Everyone seems happy and well.

Gifu looks happy, especially with his grandson. Didn’t see him interact much with his granddaughter though. So traditional.

Sister was fine, albeit stressed and a little angry at the lateness of everyone and everything.

Family. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.

It’s family. I love my family.

It seems like I’ll be making another trip up to Fresno in June. Loretta’s Chinese wedding banquet. It’ll be small like how Maggie’s was. I think I’ll take an extra day while I’m out there to fully explore and hike King’s Canyon. I didn’t get to hike it last time and I think I’ll just spend the day to do it.

I’ll get a hotel out there or something. I haven’t figured it out yet, but let’s do it.

Overall, my time with the Vongs was great and I look forward to seeing everyone again in June.

I didn’t spend the night with them. They were rushing off to get their yearly family portrait after dinner and I never intended to stay.

I got a hotel in Oakhurst, out near Yosemite that night. It was just way too much for me and for some reason, I couldn’t handle all of the excitement and people.

I was over it and was glad when I left.

* * *

Happy Chinese New Year!

Yosemite.

My meditation.

My Zen.

Nature.

To my mental health.

I had two full days in the park and I needed them.

I planned my first day to be the most strenuous and my second to be the easiest since I planned to meet Steve for dinner that night.

Day one.

Yosemite Falls.

I’ve done this hike before. It was my fourth time and the last time I hiked it, was back in ’08 with my brother. 10 years ago.

Man, 10 years. I was a different person back then, younger and in much better shape.

The weather was perfect for it. Not too hot and not too cold. It was cold in the morning when I got to the park, but as the sun rose, it got better, and as I started hiking, my body temperature rose.

The hike wasn’t too difficult. I’ve done worse, especially in Banff and definitely at the Rockies, but I was dying.

I was tired. I was drained. Also, for the first time in my many years of hiking, I cramped up like a little bitch and thought I couldn’t get up there.

I finally realized that my 38th year of life was a year of bad decisions. I still have a month and some change left. I’m not making any decisions until after my birthday.

My body wasn’t tired, but it was my legs. The cramping became an issue and there was a point where the cramps were so bad that I couldn’t bend my legs. There was a moment when I feared that I might not be able to get down the mountain.

On the way up, I met this much younger white guy (30) who saw me struggling and said that my camera was anchoring me down. In a way, he got a point. I packed it up in my backpack. I wasn’t going to be taking any pictures on the rest of the way up.

But man, he was about 8-9 years younger than I am, much better shape most likely, and he didn’t understand why I was struggling.

I was cramping.

I was severely dehydrated.

Why?

Bad decisions.

Thursday night, I went to happy hour to get a few beers and then I went to dinner and had beer.

I didn’t drink much water that night after I got home and on Friday, I didn’t drink much water in Fresno or my drive. Well, at least I didn’t drink as much as I normally would.

I was dehydrated.

On the hike, I went up fast and strong like I normally would, but my body was dehydrated and that killed me.

Bad decisions.

What ended up happening, I had to rest almost at the top and just hydrate and ate my jerky and my trail mix. I needed to get salt back into my body. I needed electrolytes.

After that small rest, I was good to go. The cramps went away and I was set.

Fuck that guy.

Most of all, fuck me for being stupid.

Never again.

I hope.

I make stupid decisions.

With everything that happened, it took me about 3 hours to reach the top. I’m trying to remember how long it took me last time. I think it was about 3 hours also.

It made me think, if I was in better shape, meaning not dehydrated, would I have made it up in 2.5 hours. Possibly.

Looking at the Yosemite guide board, the hike was rated at 6-8 hours round trip for 7.2 miles. I did it in 4.5 or close to 5 hours. Not bad.

I relaxed while I was up at the top. I found the viewpoint and chilled, then I went to the river and had a nap at the river’s edge. I think that whole hike, including the rest at the top, took me about 6 hours or so.

Not bad at all.

I went hiking to find my Zen. It did help me meditate in a way, especially a hike like that. I didn’t think much about work and I tried not to think about much of anything else. That helped. For the most part, my thoughts about getting up was just enjoying the view and watching my steps until the whole cramping happened.

On the way down, the same thing, my thoughts and focus was more on watching my step and not wanting to roll my ankles.

Focus on the now.

Practicing mindfulness.

Being mindful of my steps.

Zen.

Relaxing.

Until the fucking douchey hipster bros that were hiking down.

There were about six or seven of then hiking down at a slow casual speed loudly talking about beer and wanting to try bud light.

I normally wouldn’t mind much of it if they weren’t so fucking slow and don’t understand the hiking etiquette. There were times when they were walking two-abreast.

Fuck them.

The proper etiquette would be being aware that they are slow and stop, step aside, and let faster hikers pass them. Nope. None of that.

They owned the trail. We’re on their trail and on their fucking time.

Fuck them.

I got tired and angry and I just hiked through them.

Fuck them.

They ruined my Zen a little bit, but after I left them behind, I was in a better mood.

Getting down the falls took me about an hour and a half. Not a bad pace.

Not bad at all.

After the falls, I went to the lower falls and just wandered aimlessly for a bit to figure out the parking situation for the next day and then I drove back to Oakhurst.

It was a nice day, douchey bros and cramping aside. It was a nice day of hiking, peace, not thinking about work, or much of anything.

It was a good day.

I took a shower at the hotel and then went out to dinner and had a few beers. I know, I know, no more alcohol, but I was on vacation.

I ordered too much food, but I was starving and on vacation.

It was a good day.

Day two.

It started a little later than the first day, but no different. The long drive in was no different than the day before.

I got into the park, parked, and was on my way.

I decided to do the Yosemite Valley Loop. I’ve done most of it many times before. It was my slow day, my stroll day. I didn’t want to get all sweaty, stinky, and tired because I know I was going to do some socializing that night.

The day was much quieter and less crowded the day before. I think many people left because there were threats of rain and snow throughout the day, plus it was fucking cold.

It was about 10 degrees colder than the day before.

I strolled and strolled. For most of the day, I was alone. I wasn’t around anyone on the trails. I would cross paths with a few people, but for the most part, I was alone.

It was nice.

The most crowded part of my day, besides getting lunch at the General Store and Cafe was at Mirror Lake.

Mirror Lake was one of the more popular easier hikes, because it was flat.

I finished the loop, which I started a few times, but never finished. It was a nice hike. I enjoyed it.

I met up with Steve around 3:30 or 4 and spent the rest of the day with him and met his girlfriend. We had dinner, chatted, caught up and it was great.

It’s great to see that he’s doing well and that he loves where he is.

I would love it too.

Yosemite is a great place and in a way, I think I could see myself living out there, secluded from people too.

Maybe. One day.

It was nice.

When I left Steve’s, the weather started to roll in and was snowing. I took the long way back to Oakhurst, avoiding the higher elevation of Rte. 41 and took Rte 140 instead.

It was long, but if I could avoid snow in the mountains, at night, for my little civic; yeah, I’m going to do it.

Bright and early Monday, I drove home.

It was a great getaway.

A much-needed getaway.

I need to think about where to go or what to do for March. It’ll be a trip with Pickles and maybe a long drive out somewhere would be nice.

Then I need to commit to what I planned for my birthday.

I’ll do some research soon, but I can’t wait.

Small trips.

Traveling.

Zen.

Do it.

* * *

Happy Chinese New Year!