2006

2006 in Pictures



London for H-Bomb's birthday. It was one of the most laugh-filled weekend I've ever had.


Spanish cat Sebastian fell out of the our 5th floor window and plummeted to the floor. He came out with a split lip and a dislocated leg. The above picture was taken immediately after his vet visit, and he is hopped up on some feline version of pain killers.


(An image to show his recovery. Although, it was discovered later on that he had Feline Leukemia. Life is cruel.)


This image portrays the Best Idea Award of 2006. Idea: Doing the Robot in Rabat, Morocco.



All sorts of good nights were had in Madrid.


I had the best birthday in years. (My lovelies above, watching me blowing out the candles.)




I made priceless new friends in a country that has become so close to my heart. (Cheesy much? Manchengo cheesy.)



I came back to my amazing friends, two of which shacked up together, one who immediately left for Shanghai, and another that just continued being kicked around.


I also went to Japan for the first time in years. (That's a picture of me taking a picture in the AMAZING bathroom with toilet seats with lids that open automatically in Tokyo.)


And after doing some mind numbing temp work, I finally landed a job that allowed me to have a business card, while doing things I actually like with interesting people. One of my boss used to be the campaign manager for Jesse Jackson (when he was cool).

And finally...


My dog turned 10 years old yesterday, which is a mile stone in Dog Years. He's too dark to be visible in this picture, but we had very limited time to take it, because we were dangling a piece of prime rib to get his attention. We had about 2 seconds before he jumped for the kill.

Full year I must say! Since I spent half of it in Spain, I feel like 2006 was split into two different time periods in my life. I have no expectations for 2007, but only hopes that it will treat me well.

Someone cure me.

I don't know when it first began, and I don't know how to fix it, but since about a month ago I am even more scared of driving on highways than before.

I'm a bad driver. There's no point in lying, because it's pretty clear how poorly I drive. I hate adding to the Asian and female stereotype, but I am that woman you hate on the road. The slow one. The one who breaks for no reason. The one who slows down all the time before switching lanes and takes forever and a half doing it. I am all those things.

Therefore, I rarely drive on the freeway, for the better of the people. I'm better that way. We're all so much better that way.

Lately, on top of my previous aversion of driving in general, I've developed an inexplicable fear of speeding and driving on freeways. There is not a moment that I'm not nervous while on the road. I drive behind trucks to justify my slow speed. I'm genuinely afraid of the other cars on the road.

I try to track back when this all began, because despite everything, I was never this nervous. I've been in several car accidents, some more major than others. But, I think the decisive moment was when I actually saw a jeep swerve three lanes to the left, crash into the car in front and then to the ramp, consequently exploding into flames. A possible fatal accident. I couldn't drive home that night and ended up staying the night at my friend's house. People see accidents everyday so I don't know why I'm still freaked out.

Someone hypnotize me, train me, cure me from this anxiety. Sometimes, I decide not to go places because of the fear of going on freeways. You can imagine how impairing this is living in Los Angeles. It's SO annoying. I'm genuinely pleading for some kind of help. Let me know if you are my savior.

On a lighter note, I celebrated the first night of Hanukkah with some friends. Leanne brought these Hanukkah glasses that made everything Jewish. Let me demonstrate:

Regular Christmas Lights:


Jewish Lights:


Hanukkah Glasses:


The next day, I went Christmas shopping with Nudy at South Coast. I slept over at Nudy's and the next day, we managed to go to the Warehouse Sale to buy discounted designer jeans. It was retail hell this weekend, aka, my wallet is empty.

Trying on shiz:


$ HO $ HO $ HO!!! $$$Happy Holidays!$$$

New Job.

I love my new job, but damn... it's pretty hard.

First off, my Spanish... oh.. my Spanish. You see, I'm used to having daily conversations in Spanish. Shit about the weather, clothes, restaurants, gossip. etc etc. My friends back in Spain taught me well about all the colloquial terms and dirty cuss words I should know. ( I have an entire notebook to prove it.) But, never in our conversation did the topic of taxes and welfare come up, and that's what I'm dealing with right now. I thought I knew my Spanish, but I've been humbled down to become a stupid Asian Gringa.

I know this will fix itself with time, unless I'm an Asian Gringa to the core. I hope I'm not, because I do want to do this job well.

Secondly, the difference between the workload with this job and the last temp I had is like the sun and moon. I'm pretty happy about that, but I come home pretty tired. Again, something I should get used to.

But so far, the commute is great (which is SO important here in LA), my co-workers are all incredibly sweet, and my boss is hilarious.

I have a positive disposition about this new job. Wish me well.

In addition, some holiday pictures with me and the Mo, aka future roommate.





Pretty huh. I love the smell of Christmas trees.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! And, here's a huge ass Hanukkah menorah for my Jewish homies:

CONGRATULATIONS SUSETTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(if you ever read this.)

Let me tell you the weekend that I had...

Not really a crazy one, but an interesting weekend is what I had.

First, it started on Friday night, because that's when most people's weekend starts.

I went to Peter's co-worker's son's Boy Scout's Spaghetti Dinner. ( Yes, it's a stretch.) The event was at an elementary school cafeteria where all the tables and chairs came up to my knees and the cups were the size of shot glasses. We entered the cafeteria and the distinct smell of children and spaghetti instantly hit our faces.

The place was an absolute ZOO, and it made me not want children, because they were running around hopped up on sugar, and their dirty hands came very close to staining my nice Seven jeans. ( Discount 7 jeans, but nice ones nonetheless.)

We mosied our way through the pasta line and finally sat down to enjoy the overcooked spaghetti, when Peter found some friends of his from work at the next table. They joined us and we were having a nice chat. Peter works in the theatre industry so they were theatre people as well. Suddenly, kids starting gathering around our table, peering over at one of P's friends with great curiosity. Then, they started forming a long line in front of P's lady friend, and I wasn't sure what was happening. It turns out that P's friend, also known as Mary Jo was actually the voice of Mrs. Puff from Spongebob Squarepants, and the kids were fighting to get a glimpse of her. It was hilarious. They all had big round eyes, and asked her to do the voice of the character. Mary Jo was ever so patient and so sweet with the kids, and gave her undivided attention to every single one of them. When I watched the kids politely ask for her autograph (well, most of them) my previous heart of Grinch melted away and I instantly wanted children again. They were SO cute. If I could just bottle that part of childhood up, then I wouldn't mind going through the pain of childbirth. Then again, it's a clear sign that I'm not even close to becoming a parent, because the cute part is as far as I can take when they are in masses like that.

So that was Friday. I had spaghetti, I met a Spongebob character, and I contemplated parenthood.

On Saturday, it was my friend Ben's birthday, so we dared to go out in Old Town for dinner. The area was PACKED with USC and UCLA fans, (mostly SC), and I arrived right after UCLA won, so it was chaotic. I was walking through an alley of different bars, and I noticed 2 grown men with USC attire having a heart-to-heart talk. They were unusually close and were lowering their voices, so it seemed serious. When I passed by them, this is EXACTLY what I heard:

Man #1: "Man, you, you have to realize... You're more than USC. You're a human being. You're so much more than that."
Man #2: "But dude, man, I am going to DIE if we lose tonight. I'm serious. I'm going to die."

Give me a fucking break! Moments after hearing USC's loss, an ambulance with sirens blazing came running through the street, so I imagine that the man actually did die.

Anyhoo, good dinner, good company, and a great night of clubbing followed. One thing that dampened the night was when a 14-year-old boy yelled "SCROTUM!!" in my ear as I was about to cross the street. Even after telling him to fuck off, I was annoyed and wished I had kicked the little bitch down. No matter how old these male species are, their immaturity and ridiculousness never fails to amaze me.

So, that was my weekend. How was yours?