Protected: Lead Me
Oct 19
Something to Strive For
Aug 10
August 10, 2010, marks the 35th wedding anniversary of my parents, Michael and Michelle Wu. I used to wonder exactly how long my parents had been married. But I recently (several years ago) realized that they had me five years into their marriage, so all I need to do is add five years to my age to figure out what anniversary is coming up. Needless to say, I’m 30 this year. It’s hard for even myself to believe. I still see myself as a 21-year-old kid. I’m pretty sure I wish I was 21 again as well. That’s a story for another blog post though.
I love my parents very much and couldn’t have been more pleased with the way they raised me. Without too much braggadocio, I think I turned out pretty well, don’t you? April and I have been married just over two years and three months. I think our marriage goes so well because we both come from great parents. It goes without saying that I love April very much and I hope that one day, we will also celebrate our 35th anniversary. Who knows whether our 30-year-old son will be blogging about it, but I hope that Lord-willing, whatever child I have, he or she hopes to be and strives to be like me because I was as good an example to them as my parents were to me.
Happy anniversary, mom and dad.
Please File a Complaint
Aug 4
If there’s something I can’t stand, it’s people who complain about their difficulties in hopes of earning sympathy that otherwise wouldn’t have ever existed. Of course, the only reason I’m writing this entry is to complain about a recent encounter I had with someone of the sort. Believe you me; I’m not looking for sympathy.
I got in touch with said person because I wanted to share an opinion about something that I had just learned. To my surprise, the only reaction to my opinion was, “I already knew about what you’re talking about.”
That would be fine and dandy if it had anything to do with what I was trying to accomplish. Nonetheless, I assume because I didn’t give rise to that silly reply, this person proceeded to complain about how the only reason I might even try to talk to them about this topic was because they had been saddled with extra job responsibilities.
While I have no problem with people voicing their complaints about tough work loads, it gets old when it seems unfounded and is even worse when it is a continuous stream of complaining. Needless to say, all I replied with was, “let me know when you’re no longer bitter and I’ll talk to you then.”
Well, it appears that this complaint of mine isn’t quite as boisterous if I refuse to fully incriminate those in question by name, so I’ll stop here.
I feel better now.
Land Lover
Jul 31
If somehow I wasn’t sure enough before, I think I’m positive now; I absolutely prefer being on land to being in the water. I’m not sure that would have been true several years ago. I grew up on swimming lessons at Calgary’s VRRI (Vocational Rehabilitation and Research Institute) swimming pool. My mom used to take me to lessons ritualistically. Oddly enough, neither of my parents were particularly into swimming. I guess they either wanted me to become a great swimmer one day, or they were just worried that I would drown without these lessons. Nonetheless, I advanced quickly and was at a level ready to receive life-guard certification by the time I was in the fourth grade.
In high school, I passed the mandatory California swimming test with flying colors and even showed off my endurance by swimming a mile at a Boy Scout camp one year. I used to go to the high school swimming pool as a regular summer activity with my little brother and my friend James.
For some reason, over the years, my desire to go to the pool waned. Looking back, it might have because of my weight and my growing insecurities with my body. Perhaps it was the fact that swimming with contact lenses sucks. Or maybe it was just because I spent so much more time doing land-based activities like being in the marching band.
I loved being on boats as a child. Fast-forward to my final year in grad school and my responsibilities as the USC women’s crew sports information director. I had an amazing time heading out onto the water with the head coach to watch our girls row, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of just being worried about drowning. Where did this fear come from? I also couldn’t help but try my best not to touch any of the water.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that I’ve become much more of a mysophobe. I’ve always been a neat freak, but these days, I want to wash my hands so much more often than I used to as a kid. Maybe it’s just because I’m more aware.
Let’s skip ahead to the point at hand. I went jet-skiing for the first time in my life today. While the experience was amazing in and of itself, while I was out on the water, I came to the conclusion that I felt much better about my life with both feet on solid ground. I can still swim just fine; and I had a life-jacket on. For some reason, the immense feeling of freedom on the water also brought on an incredible feeling of fear. I kept on thinking I was about to flip the WaveRunner over or fall into the water. I’m not even sure what was so scary about that, but I couldn’t shake it. I got up to 22MPH just to see if I could handle it, but the thrill of going so fast was quickly replaced by this sinking fear that I could flip over and die. Who knows what is wrong with me, but hey, I have no problems with admitting that I love being on land. I’m a certified land lover; tried and true.
High-Low: All’s Fair
Jun 28
Without a question, both my high and low moments of the week involved food in some manner. Is it any wonder, though? I’ll start with the low moment of my week. Without being particularly incriminatory, it occurred at lunch on Wednesday, so I was at work. This spring, I took on the added task of managing a new talent in our media relations office. The young lady we brought on board was supposed to become the on-camera face of CalBears.com, and that, she did. However, because of our lack of resources, she also became the writer, director, camera operator and editor for all of the video features she took credit for. Nonetheless, I think she did a marvelous job with what we provided her and her attitude and willingness to work with others has been beyond a true blessing. So, two Thursday’s ago, I took her out to lunch as a ‘thank you’ for her services. We’ve also managed to become good friends through the process of working together, so I thought it was appropriate to do so even though we had another lunch meeting planned with our department head for later in the week.
So, last Wednesday, myself, this young lady, and my superior all made our way out into Berkeley for lunch. It was her opportunity to talk about how the whole experience of working on our staff went this year and our opportunity to express our thanks to her. When we arrived at the restaurant, somehow, she ended up having to call for a table and got us seated. Then, I went to the restroom, and upon my return, found that my superior was sitting across from me; next to her.
In short, the lunch meeting turned into an affair between myself and my superior with him having to turn to the side just to talk to her. I was upset by the fact that she had actually prepared a couple of things to share and talk about but that she wasn’t actually even given a chance. To compound the whole lost meeting, when the bill arrived, my superior didn’t make a move to pay for the lunch. A couple of awkward minutes later, he ended up picking up the bill only to ask our video intern whether or not she was planning on using her credit card.
Talk about a deflating moment. I felt terrible that we put her through that after all that she had done for us. What’s worse is that the bill this time was $30 for three people. The bill when I took her out to lunch myself was $35 for two people. Granted, we had sushi the first time, and had burgers the second time, I was still incredulous that steps weren’t taken to show a little gratitude to someone who has done so much for our department. I know some might ask why I didn’t pay for the second meal, but it was just such an awkward moment. It was like being out with your parents and then dad asks you to split the bill. If it weren’t for the fact that this was our last meeting with this intern, it might have made sense. I had considered paying for the meal again, but thought better of that because I felt as though I would be grandstanding in front of my superior in that case. Nevertheless, it was a truly sour moment in my week.
My high moment of the week came at the Alameda County Fair. It involved food as well, of course, because you typically eat way too much at the fair. Even though we left the fair with a $60 dent in our wallet, and hadn’t really eaten anything of particular quality, we had a great time because it’s just one of things you do once a year. We had some great lemonade, and too much fried food. As a must, we capped the night off with a traditional funnel cake. It was the perfect way to end the evening.
April and I love attending concerts together. With our musical backgrounds, it’s no wonder why. Over the years, and especially since we’ve moved to the Bay Area, our concert outings are fewer and further between. However, that fact makes the concerts we do attend that much sweeter. As part of our admission to the fair ($10), we were able to line up and hear Tower of Power do their thing at the bandstand. They put on a great show and actually left us wanting more. It was a nice jazz/funk preview for our upcoming trip to New Orleans though. That’s another thing we can’t wait to do; go to New Orleans for the week of July 16-23.
Blast From The Fast
May 27
I only just started using an At-A-Glance desk calendar this year because I thought it was about time I got more publicly and officially organized. I’m not sure if it makes the time pass more swiftly but I just ripped the May sheet off and folded it up for storage (I’m a pack rat). I can’t believe we’ve already gone through five months so quickly.
I know, I know. You’re probably wondering why I ripped May off so fast, but it’s because I might not be in the office tomorrow and with the long weekend and guests arriving, I’ll likely do any NCAA tennis work from home anyway.
The months really flew by after we hit March. That first weekend, we went to Southern California to celebrate our dating anniversary and attend a wedding. Then, in early April, we took off in the middle of the week to celebrate April’s birthday only to return to Los Angeles for her dad’s surprise party that following weekend. Upon returning to the Bay Area, we had a week in town before we flew out to New York for a six-day rendez-vous with James and Vivian.
Come back to the East Bay is supposed to make things slow down but when we got back, we prepared together to run the Bay to Breakers 12K on May 16. The next weekend, we went to Napa to celebrate my birthday with guests from out of town. This week, we had a house guest yesterday and then have three more who have arrived today for the Memorial Day weekend.
When they leave, April and I head our separate ways for a bachelor party in Montreal and a bachelorette party in Las Vegas. When we get back, my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law stay for two nights to attend April’s god-sister’s graduation from UCSF. Then we slow down with three weekends at home before heading down to Los Angeles for our friends’ wedding on the Fourth of July weekend.
Oh, I’m not done. When we get back from Los Angeles, we take off for New Orleans for a week from July 16-23. Then; then things will slow down a little bit, I think. For now, we’re flying through 2010. The next thing you know, it’ll be Christmas again. I’m looking forward to everything about that but the bills that will arrive in January 2011.
Covert Operation
May 27
Yesterday morning, I took a different route to work because we had a house guest who needed to be dropped off in the middle of downtown Oakland. Normally, I head to West Oakland BART station and drop April off before doubling back to take the 980 into Berkeley. This time, I dropped April off at the 12th Street station in downtown and went further east. Why is that important? It meant (to me, at least) that it would make no difference in my efficiency whether I chose to make my way to the freeway or continue driving on the streets of Oakland.
However, a couple of considerations threw my decision into the “that was easy” category pretty quickly. I had a couple of checks that I needed to deposit and there was a Chase branch on my way if I took surface streets. What’s more, Bakesale Betty was on that same route (if I wanted it to be). How could I pass up the chance to go to Bakesale Betty? It was a Wednesday. The store isn’t open on Monday’s and Tuesday’s and is never open later than 4 p.m. aside from on Friday’s. The Ginger-Molasses cookies themselves are worth the trip; not to mention the perfectly baked scones. Still, Alison Barakat’s most famous offering is her chicken sandwich. I didn’t get one, nor did I order a chicken salad or save a couple of delectable chicken pot pie’s for dinner. I went with two scones and a half-dozen cookies.
I knew I wasn’t going to eat all of what I ordered but I had my intentions to save the scones for tea with April and to have one cookie myself. As for the rest of the cookies, I had plans to share them with my co-workers. When I got in, I stopped by the volleyball office and gave two to Jenn. Upon arriving at my desk, I opened up the box to have a bite of a cookie and low and behold, there were still six cookies. Bakesale Betty sometimes does this. The workers will hit you with far more than you ordered as a gesture of kindness.
Well, one cookie is enough for me. Some of my co-workers are anti-interesting food so I didn’t bother trying. My new office mate refused my offer for reasons unbeknownst to me, but I walked down the hall to our new neighbors from the business office and offered one to our human resources manager (for which she was terribly grateful) and then went and saw our HR coordinator. Her office-mate wasn’t there, so I offered her two anyway so that she could give him one when he returned. My line is always “hey, if they don’t want it, you can have two for yourself” with an unbelievably jolly smile on my face.
When I returned from my duties elsewhere on campus, my business-office buddies remarked at how good the cookies were. I told them they were welcome and asked if they had ever been to Bakesale Betty. My coordinator friend said she had heard of it but never made the trip there. Her boss, our HR manager, decides to ask me some key questions. He, of course, tells me that he goes there every once in a while and that it’s wonderful. Thanks. First, he asks me if I went there today. Why, yes. Then he asks, did you spend your entire lunch to go all the way out there? Naturally, I responded with my short story about taking a house guest in that direction. Not another thought.
This morning, as I was walking up to my office, thinking about how the business office often leaves exactly at 4:45 p.m. and stays no later than 5 p.m., I realized that the questions might have been a cover for checking to make sure that I wasn’t taking prolonged lunches. What? I have got to be more careful who I share my cookies with.
Slightly Off
May 26
I mentioned in my last entry that April and I had recently run the 99th Annual ING Bay to Breakers 12K. Earlier this year, I completed my first 5K run in San Leandro. It was called the Bay Breeze and was actually quite easy compared to our practice outings. For Saint Patrick’s Day, we did a 5K down the shoreline of Alameda, and then in late April, we participated in our first trail run. Luckily, running up and down the hills and knolls of Wildcat Mountain only lasted the distance of a 5K. Initially, we didn’t think we would be able to run the Bay to Breakers race because of a work conflict I had, but when things cleared up, we were able to sign up and legitimately do the run with timing chips on our feet and everything.
So, in all of the aforementioned races, April has consistently crossed the finish line somewhere in the neighborhood of five to seven minutes earlier than I had. Because the Bay to Breakers run was a little less formal, we were together the entire time. I wanted to walk some of the last stretch but we had actually run most of it so she was alongside me, encouraging me to finish in stride. It worked because I was in step with her all the way.
Not for anything more than a little moral victory, I figured we would have the exact same race time. Now, if not for anything more than a little ego deflation, we didn’t. Somehow, she finished one second earlier than I did. I can’t win.
