SIX!

when i pulled into a parking spot at work tonight, my little black car with a spoiler fit perfectly in a formation to make two lines of three little black cars (all different makes) with spoilers, all facing each other and divided by yellow lines.

pretty as a picture. just like those sesame street animated shorts that line up the little blocks in a pretty formation for every number to help you learn how to count.

bored

yesterday, my brother went back to school. the medical reaction got better and off he flew to the land of mouthwatering BBQ and no snow. of course he brought his every worldly posession along, smashed into a four-ton suitcase. and let's not forget the golf clubs. as i was trying to maneuver through the throngs of people at o'hare with the golf bag knocking into everything, i thought to myself, why can't this kid have taken up a sport that utilizes smaller equipment, like table tennis?

but coming home to a sleeping house really sort of sucks.

soothing sounds

"i miss hawaii."

"me too. you guys just got back, but it's been 2 years since i was there."

"you know what i loved the most? i loved to hear the sound of the waves crashing on the beach at night. we could hear it from both of the hotels we stayed at during our honeymoon."

"it's very soothing, isn't it?"

"definitely. it's funny, last night when i was getting ready to go to sleep, i thought i could hear it again. i was like how the heck have i not heard lake michigan before today? nah, there's no way we'd hear it from here. then i rolled over and realized it was just C snoring. i guess the way he was breathing right then sounded like the ocean."

"ha ha. well, at least it's a snore that doesn't drive you nuts. you're married to it now, sister."

"yeah. i guess i'll just pretend we're still in hawaii."

what's that, sam?

there are SNAKES in this motherf*cking dungeon!

to all of you at the midnight showing right now, hope it lives up to the hype.

no-complaints gets challenging

my brother was admitted to the hospital today, two days before he was set to move all his stuff 918.30 miles away (that's 1478.463 km, X) and live in alabama for the coming school year.

last saturday his boys threw him a going away party: they rented a limo, went out for steak and got tipsy. i got a latenight phone call and he was most certainly not wasted, just sounding really tired and about to crash at a friend's house.

from sunday on, he had the chills but his forehead felt hot to the touch. "as warm as the pan you use to bake chapatis," according to my mother. however when his temperature was taken, it only registered at 98 degrees F (37.1 C). he also developed a really itchy rash all over that nothing seemed to cure. definitely not just a hangover.

after much arguing, we got him to see the general doctor this morning, who sent him to the emergency room, through which he was admitted to a hospital bed. a CAT scan and chest x-ray revealed no major problems aside from a small fluid buildup near the pacemaker, but we already knew that was an issue, and it wasn't enough to worry about. the dermatologist came by and cut out two pieces of his left arm muscles for biopsies to make sure the infection or whatever it could be hadn't spread there. he got five stitches. the doctor said if you could look past the outer skin, you'd see that the flesh underneath is as though he had a severe sunburn all over his body.

at this point, they suspect it's some kind of bad reaction to either the antibiotic they put him on to reduce the fluid after the pacemaker-checking/fluid-draining procedures or Advil. i'm highly doubting the latter because he's taken it for years. and while he hadn't been drinking alcohol while taking antibiotics, after 20 days of doses, 24 hours may not have been long enough for it to get out of his system.

the doctors have said that he's definitely not going back to school on friday and will need to rest for at least a week. whether that will be in hospital or at home remains to be seen. if they can't figure out what happened and remedy it soon enough, he may have to miss this semester of school and put off chance for graduation YET AGAIN.

the most upsetting factor of this is that like anyone with a medical condition, all the kid wants is some semblance of a normal life. how many other 23-year-old guys who want to throw back a few beers with buddies they won't see again until Christmas -- and are responsible about it (following the usual medical precautions and having a designated driver)-- have to risk potentially messing up six months of their lives?

getting through the day is hard enough as it is.


***UPDATE***
they released him from the hospital today (thursday) and though he's not warm to the touch anymore, he is extremely, severely red. i am not kidding. imagine the worst sunburn you have ever seen, like a purple red. i don't think i've ever seen a brown person turn that color in my life. (i don't know why lightskinned people dare risk it.) the doctor says that there is a chance it could be as bad as a second-degree burn and, as it peels, it could become infected. plus the poor kid is in a whole lot of pain for which they won't give him anything. the why? advil's interaction with caflex, even though he'd been off of the latter, it was still in his system.

poor thing.

no complaining: day 2

i know you're all very concerned about the ginormous undertaking i am embarking on with this no-complaining thing, so i promise to give you continual updates and you can offer feedback.

yesterday as H and i were walking around in the city*, i mentioned this cute little segment i remembered fondly from sesame street (and i'm talking about oldskool, no elmo here) about a cartoon on the side of a glass who lived in a kitchen cupboard named "teeny little superguy". sing along if you remember:

just look at the stars,
just look at the sea,
he's inside of you and me

you can't tell a hero by his size
i'm just a TEENY LITTLE SUPERGUUUUUUUY
ooooohhhh yeaaaaaaaah.

that entertained me for quite some time. i'm not so sure about H, but he's a good sport all around.

so tonight in the dungeon, i looked it up on youtube, but didn't find it.

AHEM, so instead of complaining about it. i have resigned to entertain the stacks of extra xerox paper here on my desk with my own personal rendition.

on repeat.


*disclaimer: now that H is back in his own state, there's a slight possibility that the concrete foundation of the 28-day-no-complaints mission could get a little shaky.


*****UPDATE******
WILLOWTREE IS THE COOLEST!!!!
and i think i had the lyrics wrong, too. "don't look at the sky, don't look in the sea..." follow her link in the comments to see the cartoon...

YAY! willowtree made my dungeon day. hey, maybe this no-complaining thing is really working! thanks, willowtree.

no complaining: day 1

yeah, so i'm finding it difficult to complain today. H flew out to surprise me for my birthday and i managed to get out of going to work tonight.

so far so good! (omar, i've lasted OVER a day, thank you.)

but tomorrow is another day...

new year, new leaf

"dude are you still working?"

"of course. at this point, must you even ask?"

"i never can keep up with your hours. so what's going on in dungeon duty?"

"a whole bag of nothing."

"oh come on, sh-t load of nothing? tell me a story."

"i sleep, i work, i talk on the phone a little. repeat ad nauseam."

"well, do something about it. at this point you can only move forward."

"yawn."

"cadiz. you have to ask for what you want. and sometimes that means just saying 'i want this' or you'll never get it."

"i'm starting to see that in all realms."

"and i don't mean yell, but 'this is what i prefer.' "

"how about, 'i want to go home. NOW.' "

"within reason. i seriously think you should get on my no complaining program for 28 days."

"NO COMPLAINING? do you realize that is my favorite hobby? my only hobby these days?"

"cadiz, i'm sorry, but that makes you a really depressing person."

"um, you're telling me."

"when i've been at a point where people ask 'hey what's up?' and i want to -- and actually respond with-- complaints, i'm like damn i'm such a downer."

"i realize that, but honestly i think having no life is starting to drive me a little insane."

"cadiz, i realized, the way i was brought up, i don't let myself be happy until 'A,' until 'B,' until 'C'... "

"sounds very familiar."

"and it never ends. and then over the weekend i was like, what if i'm just happy BEFORE anything happens? because honestly none of that stuff actually determines who you are. you're just a good person in one or more tricky situations."

"ugh. i feel trapped."

"don't worry about that. just start exercising 'i want this' or 'i need that.' you might not get it, but that's not the point. your voice is out of shape so you have no idea what you think you want. practice, and you'll know. it's going to feel foreign and weird. but anything you do every day for 28 days can become a habit."

"yeah? i have been trying to take vitamins every day on and off for like 12 years, and that's never stuck."

'cadiz. just try it. you'll see a difference. positivity catches on."

"i want to go home."

"you have to work with what you can actually control. and if all you can think to say is negative, then just shut the hell up. just see what happens."

"fine. i'll try your little trick."

"28 days."

"ok, starting monday. because i still have a lot of bitching to get out of my system and now i've gotta make it really count."

trying times

i hate terrorists.

they've created a world where you can't even carry lip gloss and feel safe.

and we're changing our lives to accommodate them. because we have no choice.

bastards.

can't call her cute pregnant lady anymore

a great wake-up call is to hear that a beautiful baby was born healthy and happy, 7 lbs. 10 (or so) oz. her momma didn't need drugs, either, which isn't surprising because six days before the due date, mother-plus-child was shimmying along in a wedding reception conga line.

congratulations!

better than a bug zapper

last summer the dance class that cc and i were in was having a mini recital. the teacher decided to combine all the classes for a couple practices, because the final pieces would tie together and she wanted to make sure we had it together before we went on stage.

so about 40 people were crammed into a tiny studio with slick wood floors that was so humid we could barely see ourselves in the mirror. groups of five or more were passing through each other as we practiced and she kept changing up the choreography to make it work better. this would have been all fine and dandy, but i could hardly concentrate. this gangly redheaded teenager was in the opposite line, right across from me, and i couldn't stop staring at her. it was like a trainwreck, i knew i ought to be watching the mirror to make sure i didn't look like a complete ass, but i was riveted.

you see, she was doing what what my mother would call 'trying to catch flies.' you know the type-- they sit in class/watching tv/waiting for the bus, slackjawed. it's often accompanied by a dead look in their eye, as if they're 15 seconds from slipping into a coma. Corey Haim perfects this look in 'License to Drive'(and most of his other work) and it's masterfully demonstrated by Jon Heder in 'Napoleon Dynamite'). when i see this, i have to fight the urge to slam the offender's jaw up against her skull. that day i pictured this otherwise cute teenybopper with big fat flies zooming into her gaping maw like chickadees at a backyard birdhouse.

disgusting, yet entrancing. i mean, it'd be open for a good fifteen minutes at a time. didn't it dry out? didn't her jaw get sore? didn't her lips crack?

i couldn't look away.

let's give her what she wants

'what's this project mom is making?'

'oh probably another baby blanket. you know she's always into that stuff.'

'you're right; plus her friend just got a granddaughter. mom was all like 'j beat me! i thought i'd have a grandkid first.'

'she needs to stop with that.'

'you're telling ME? i get all the pressure, kid. you're the boy, you have nothing to worry about.'

'yeah, you're probably right about that. you know what we should do?'

'tell her what's up? i've hinted, but i don't think it's going to work.'

'no, we should get her one of those realistic babydolls, you know they make fancy ones that cry and wet and all that stuff. we'll make her carry it around with her all day and night so she has to worry about it like that parenting class in high school.'

'like carrying around that egg thing all day? you know, we never had to do that.'

'we didn't either. but i'm just saying. then i can rig it so that somehow the thing doesn't shut up and just cries and cries.'

'nah, it'll never work. she lives for stuff like taking care of babies. plus, ahem, she's had a lot of experience with nonstop crying. granted, it's because you were having so much trouble breathing, but still. i don't remember her even breaking a sweat.'

'yeah, but you forget one thing: it'd really piss dad off.'

'you're a genius.'

a note

dear new woman who looks like she might come from the same place my parents do,

you might be new to the job or just filling in for someone in that other department, but i think it's downright rude for a person, especially the new kid (no matter what your age) to outrightly gawk at a person just sitting there, minding her own job. yeah, i saw you. i have seen you EVERY time you have walked by and given me a nasty staredown. despite your openmouthed gape, i smiled back at you. and even said hello. did you even bother reciprocating? no. you couldn't even afford to give me a smile back. and worse yet, when we were washing our hands near each other in the bathroom, you just stared and stared. what's your damage, biotch?

i get it. i understand about the cardinal rule* and all that it entails, but DUDE, when you're in a professional work environment, have some class. don't bring that shopping mall nonsense in a place of business. as of this evening, you have used up all the free smiles and hellos i have to offer. and DON'T YOU DARE be fake nice to me after some third party formally introduces us. you are making it very difficult for me to be cordial in the event that we may have to work on something together in the future.

being the bigger person that i am, i will still hold the elevator should i see you, but god help me if you don't say thank you, it will be as though you never existed in my mind.

good day.

cadiz


*the cardinal rule is such that if a person looks like he/she may be from the country of one's own origin, one MUST stare until eyes meet. no smiling is required, only a nonverbal acknowledgement that both parties have taken note that the other is a countryman/paisano/whatever-you-want-to-call-it. this rule is standard anywhere in the public realm, most effectively in shopping areas or other situations with little personal interaction. however, in a place of employment or if the subject is a friend of a friend/parent of a friend/friend of a parent, etc. etiquette requires the extra effort for a hello or a smile. through rigorous research via word of mouth, it has been extrapolated that this practice started long ago when immigrants from the motherland were scarce here, and became solidified after the immigration act of 1965, when increased numbers of asian settlers arrived. the motherland culture leans heavily on honor and protocol and all backstabbing must be done covertly. deviation can result in loss of face. to those not of motherland heritage, this rule may seem archaic and a little inane, but at its inception the cardinal rule was used as a means to help out a fellow struggling immigrant who may have been facing difficulties that come with living in a foreign land, like racism, culture shock and nostalgia. sadly, the rule has taken a turn for the worse in recent years, where it is not about helping out a fellow countryperson, but merely to assess how well one has done for himself as well as the specific state-origin, religion and other heritage in one smile-less glance.

28 days later...

...or 28 day Slater?

where was YouTube when i was in high school?

for sale: slightly used death traps (3 pair, size 37 european)*

this is a pretty long recap, so for those of you who want to cut to the chase, i offer a headline-only preface.

THE GIST:

cadiz still has all her limbs, thanks for asking
friends are now married
maid of honor not assassinated for speech
undersides of feet likened to those of cane-beaten prisoners in bollywood films
H on plane back to cali

THE DETAILS:

after the rehearsal dinner (for which i feel i was overdressed; what's the protocol for that anyhow? people were all over the spectrum) we ate food catered from the place r and c had their first date and where c proposed. afterward, ale, kaiya and i took care of a little last minute shopping, i caught a catnap on kaiya's couch and headed off to pick up H.

hotel for mr. california
the sketchy hotel was just that. the area seemed seedy at 1 a.m., but the place was booked solid and there were actually some non-drugdealer looking people in the lobby. so i was fine. the room was clean, but looked like it hadn't been redecorated since 1984, except the shower, which looked pretty new. it was only lacking a few items: shampoo/conditioner, the door to the freezer part of the minifridge, a towel bar or toilet paper holder and an alarm clock. the tv had knobs, but we didn't think to check if it was color. bottom line, even though i tossed and turned the whole time dreaming i got arrested for mistaken identity in a drug bust, there were no hookers in sight and we didn't get mugged at knifepoint. H drove me to r's house at 7 a.m.

the 'dos
for 7 a.m. on the day of her wedding, r was surprisingly calm. i think the only problem in the hair/makeup session was that r lost the back of her earring down the front of her dress and had to take it off and scour the floor for it. that and i was forced to wear crocs to get starbucks and had to balance 5 coffees and bagels while powerwalking because i didn't want anyone to capture this on film. as we left, everyone looked radiant, especially the bride. but it was 95-plus degrees, humid and beaded satin doesn't breathe well.

before the bubbles
at the ceremony, things went according to plan; there were indian traditions in the mix, too, and it was lovely. as much as i say i wouldn't want hoopla for my own big deal, there is something nice about doing the God part in a house of God. afterward, they were driven off in a rolls royce silver wraith that was actually silver. i had to try not to limp out of the church because, despite my dr. scholl's gel pad inserts, the shoes we chose to go with our dresses were instruments of slow and painful torture cleverly disguised as sexy spindlyheeled silver stunners that we couldn't complain about because we chose them ourselves.

storming the castle
H was kind enough to drive me (my driving foot was throbbing from standing through the ceremony) and two other hobbling bridesmaids all the way to the castle, where we saw peacocks and some type of ostrich/emu fowl parading the premises. the castle was beautiful (you will probably see pictures if you go to ale's in the next couple days). however, the air conditioning in the hall where they were having the reception was not working.

getting toasty
everything was great; the best man and i were trading jabs about preparedness for the speeches we were slated to give. i have to admit, i didn't really want to share what i was planning (which wasn't anything concrete because i hated everything i had come up with in the last few months) because i didn't want him to steal all my ideas and then hand the microphone to me so i could say, 'yeah, what he said. to r and c!' but we figured out the gist so we wouldn't overlap. he started to get nervous and i tried to convince myself of what i was saying to reassure him, too: that he'd be fine, they chose him for a reason, and just to look at them and say what comes to mind and all will be fine if he just enunciates and speaks into the mic.

when we were called, i took my champagne glass (thanks, becky) and joined bestman at the stage. he put his glass on the music stand in front of us and it started to roll off the edge as he started his speech. i caught it and held it while he told the guests about a basketball trading card (kendall gill, rookie sensation), over which he and c didn't speak for years and had it as a prop. it was a very nice touch. people laughed and the bride and groom were touched. so of course i knew the pressure was on.

before the wedding, i had written out a speech, then folded it up and written crib notes during the day as things came to me. but i didn't look at it because as i gripped the mic and the glass, i had no free hand. besides, as the video will later show, even though my mind was pretty calm, the glass-holding hand was shaking so violently that i had to hold it against my body to keep from spilling. thank God they don't fill those things more than halfway.

i looked around and just told the story as i would have done a blog post. how r and i met, things we did together growing up, how we encountered c, how i knew there was something brewing, how she said 'c is going to be my husband' after their very first date, and how they still look at each other the same way they did in the beginning. i wished them the best. the bride got teary, so i felt pretty good about it. i was so glad it was over, i got myself a drink.

after hours
the rest of the night was great. the happy couple sang a duet c wrote for the occasion, there were lots of pictures, hand-shaking, booty-shaking (the band was excellent). even our friend who is due in six days got up for "let's get it on" (her husband turned to me and said, 'yeah, we were listening to this song about nine months ago; i've gotta find her for this one.')

after all was said and done, we piled into cars and went to the hotel to crash. the only thing that was open was mcdonalds. as i rolled down the window and stared at the menu, the freaking sprinklers went on and splashed me in the face. now WHY mickey d's would need to water the tiny speakerbox island at 10 pm, and moreover, point one of the sprinklers right toward a customer's car window, i have no idea. but it reminded me of when i was at cc's beach wedding and there was a light shower right after the wedding and the minister said it was a blessing from above. i'm going to go ahead and take that as a thumbs up from the sprinkler gods for making it through the day. and i rewarded myself with a hot apple pie.



*seriously, if you need these for a wedding party, or any occasion for that matter, they're pretty. but only for walking down the aisle and pictures. if you want to try and dance in them, don't blame me when the balls of your feet swell to the size of golf balls.

according to plan, there will be a hitch

one of my best friends-- known her since fifth grade-- is getting married on saturday. and while my feelings are nothing like those of julia roberts in 'my best friend's wedding,' i have called upon H to help me do my best to troubleshoot.

my plan is for us to get out all the drama karma BEFORE the nuptials (just as a goodluck failsafe):

*Thursday, all day: try to stock up on sleep and do all the stuff i should have done before like haircut, eyebrows and pedicure
*Friday, 4 p.m.: attend rehearsal, dinner
*Friday, after festivities: drive to old-school 1960's hotel, the only one a person can get at reasonable equidistance from airport, bride's house and church for less than $360 a night (so much for priceline[dot]com), check in, try to nap
*Saturday, 1 a.m.: pick up H from the airport
*Saturday, 6 a.m.: get going to bride's house
*Saturday, 10:30-ish a.m.: get picked up by H to go to the church

i was, in a shocking development, running around like a chicken trying to find a decent place to stay (five hours is way too short and way too late to impose), that i failed to realize that the the hotel is actually on the outer edge of a cutesy, trendy neighborhood, a place that most people might qualify as 'sketchy.' for some reason i missed the tipoff of the bullet-proof glass/bankteller slot between me and the guy taking my reservation, as well as the iron FENCE going all around the premises. granted, that was at 1 p.m. before work and there were little kids riding their bikes. i have been reassured by people who live near there that it should be ok, but still, i'll have my pepper spray.

i'm starting to rethink that whole take a nap part, though. i'd rather be tired and have all my limbs than in a permanent state of rest.

so in any case, you may not hear from me for some time, as we will be crossing state lines to attend a wedding in a castle. hopefully i will not botch the 2.5-minute speech i'm supposed to give (and haven't yet been able to write).

but if i'm mugged and dismembered, that'd be a damn shame, because as Ale has said, the bridesmaid dress is really cute.

yeah, and Ross made up 'Got Milk?'

"where are you?"

"i'm at the grocery store, getting some things for the weekend. oh, good thing you reminded me; i'll need a razor."

"i ate way too much at lunch. i feel kind of sick... wait a second, what did i just say to remind you of razors?"

"you didn't, i just passed by them."

"oh. i'm so boooored."

"dude, why don't you come by the blog anymore? what gives?"

"you never post anymore."

"uh, i've posted like three times in the last two days. way to keep up."

"..."

"oh, i have to get travel shampoo, too; ran out last time i was in cali."

"..."

"crap, i can't remember if i have travel-sized lotion. this is not good. my horoscope says i'm going to be in a spending mood, and here i'm putting everything in my basket... uh, hello?"

"uh, excayUSE me, but this 'optimism' post? because I so thought that up YEARS AGO, missy!"

"i don't think so, pal. i CLEARLY REMEMBER coming to that conclusion on my own. i'll give it to you that we discussed it in high school, but i--"

"i. don't. THINK. so. I SO MADE THAT UP!"

"whatever, you didn't. and even if you did, you weren't the first, buddyboy."

"and this is the SECOND TIME you've mentioned it on here!"

"awfully astute for someone who NEVER LOOKS AT THE THING."

"whatever. anyway, i'll call you later."

"sounds good. e-mail me, i'll be in the dungeon."

"okay. have fun at work."

"later."

mssd up splng: th nw genratn

the motorola pr department is at it again:

Motorola set to launch two new mobile phones, siblings to the Razr: Krzr and Rizr.

i don't even know where to begin on pronouncing those.

***UPDATE****

NOW motorola is going to have the Scpl, slimmer than the Razr. is that supposed to be pronounced "scalpel"? wtf, motorola, you're contributing to the spelling delinquency of teens EVERYWHERE.

it's hard out here for a

i'd love to say i'm an optimist, but i'm not. at least to the public, anyway.

what makes it tricky is that people like me actually are optimists deep down inside -- they convince themselves that assuming the worst might "un-jinx" things. besides, there's a tiny comfort in at the very least being right if it doesn't work out. and if it does, well that's the best way to be wrong.

unfortunately that method can backfire. and it ends up being so much more of a letdown than just being a straightup optimist. because straightup optimists don't take too long to see the silver lining.

always reliable

"i just got myself a sandwich at jimmy johns."

"what'd you get?"

"number four, Turkey Tom. the usual, except sometimes i'm in the mood for sprouts and sometimes not. today i said what the heck, yes to the sprouts."

"that's cool."

"but you know, i have to say, the service i got at this place was IMPECCABLE. and you know i don't throw around service-industry compliments lightly."

"i do. what was so great? they were fast?"

"not just fast, but it was like this girl was multitasking tripletime. she was making someone else's sandwich, got my order, got it right, at the same time took two other people's orders, made all the sandwiches correctly and i barely had time to get my drink and it was ready. then she even apologized for the wait. and she was nice too. wow, you NEVER see that kind of thing anymore. i was trying to get her name without being too obvious. because i'm sure no one ever compliments food-service workers when they should be."

"wow, she must have been something."

"yes. i was very impressed. especially because there's usually like five people back there and there were only two. if every restaurant had one worker like that..."

"probably make a difference, eh?"

"yeah... but you know what?"

"what's that?"

"she was probably on speed or something."

"now THERE'S my girl. all this while i had been wondering where my little pessimist had gone."