I wrote a referral recently for a mentee. She said she wanted to work somewhere without sexual discrimination or harassment. I wished her good luck. She asked me about my experiences. I wisely kept my mouth shut. What purpose is there in dwelling over the old and the broken, or the now and the broken? Life must needs go on, and there are better things to focus on.
I did a small piece for a Make A Wish request. The recipient seemed to like it. I was glad. I wonder if there will be still stories left in me when the day comes that I can write as much as I wish. I have to believe there will be. It is not difficult. Every crease of cloth and every frowning brow has a story, everywhere, everyday. So I listen and ask, and note it all down.
Lassen is a lovely place. There was still snow. The wildflowers were blue and yellow, dotting the meadows and the sloping hills. I did not see any magma snakes. I managed to get up the Cinder Cone and look inside. No peaks were scaled. I had messed up with over-exertion earlier, and my leg, perhaps due to the old fracture, was acting up badly. So I restrained adventures and stayed mostly on level land.
I have been looking at my diet with a frowny face. I have decided to be good again. No more bread and cheese. No more pasta. I will cook more and eat well. It is all decided now. From Monday.
I was eating dinner with a friend at my favorite falafel shop, when a lady walked by, dressed as if for a theatre audition, speaking to herself, and I wondered if she was rehearsing for her performance or just high on street-drugs.
Going to a concert tomorrow. Lady Gaga will keep us warm in the cold of the city. My concert partner has already cajoled me into dressing for the event. We agreed to wear matching colors. I should do my laundry.
Place’s all aflutter with that infernal Google memo discussion. I haven’t read the document. I don’t want to. I am busy, I have enough reading material I care about, and I don’t want to get mired down in endless, pointless discussions with everyone around here who seems to talk about it at length during every lunch and social tete-a-tetes. My colleagues, current and former, have all asked me already for my thoughts. Most of my friends have. For many of my male colleagues, I remain (or am currently) the sole female coworker they have worked with. They tell me that they would like to hear my opinion, as a woman in the field. I smile and shake my head. My life is full, and while not without its quirks, sails more evenly than it has in a long time. I don’t want to be drawn into anything negative, or rough, or anything extraneous that is not my battle chosen.
It has been getting colder here. I think it is time to trade my shorts and skirts for longer clothes. A pity. This was not what I had initially thought of when imagining California.
A friend managed to go to South Korea and come back, none the wiser about the rhetoric or perceived danger on those borders. And now she has managed to scare herself thinking of the what-ifs, though she came back home safe and sound. I suggested that she focus on her job search. A job search is therapeutic and obscures all else, in my experience, as you have little time, will or heart to dwell on anything in your life except that search.
Some concerning news from home. Combating age is a difficult battle to wage, and a more difficult one to watch.
I cooked japchae today. It came out surprisingly well. The friend I cooked for liked it, despite the lack of garlic. She is a garlic fanatic. I like garlic just as much as the next person, but I have been turned off recently after she served me garlic with a side of noodle during our last dinner together. I was determined today to explain to her what the right amount of garlic was not, but I gave up after she washed off the mirin and doused my subtle flavors with chili flakes. She could not help giggling at my horrified face. Maybe I should reconsider my menus.