In Other Universe

Bleh, after much belly aching about my lame little universe I figure I should move onto bigger and better things. Like improving the LEGO Star Wars Universe. We have a week and counting of days left to finish up the game and all is not well. We wanted everything to be in the game and sometimes, everything is a bit much. Every game programmer has something that they absolutely must have in the game, or they will die…or shrivel up to a whiny little snot. For me it was Emperor Palpatine’s special move, force shock. Every cool character has a special move, Darth Vader gets force choking, Slave Leia gets the special dance that stuns nearby enemies… Palpatine is character you unlock by beating the game, and he was borrowing his ability from Vader with force choking which bugged me. So I had to get force shocking in. And if you put force shocking in the game, what better way is there to test the ability than to populate the world with Ewoks and shocking the fuck out of them? There really isn’t a better way, that’s what!
Sung invited me out to see Superman Returns in 3-D at IMAX with his crew last night. I have to say, the 3-D effect wasn’t too bad, it’s still not as good as Captain EO for those old enough to have seen it before Michael became known as the perve. The movie is so-so…it’s a movie I would have seen even if it sucked, so umm….overall, it was good eye candy for the ladies. Superman is stalker. Seriously, if he’s not good looking and has super power, Lois Lane would be slapping a restraining order on him so fast. And Lois is a floozie...because if your boyfriend is a superhero and he leaves for two days, you should sleep around on him, and while you're at it, you should blog a bunch of crap about him, because it's not like he has a world of mental issues to deal with. If you're a superhero, you should always dispense of your sage advice by means of creepy whispering in people's ears while they sleep. All in all, the movie was fun.

The Favorite Child

The assholes that I sometimes call my “friends” sent me pictures of the backpacking trip that I missed over the weekend. I scoffed at them because I had an awesome time working on a sunny Sunday and not sobbing quietly at my keyboard. Ack, I probably will not get another day off for two weeks, so not even a one day hike this coming weekend. *sniff* Work is getting insane, we just got our deadline cut by a week, which means we’re going to have to live at work for a bit if we want everything done on time.
I woke up at 6:30 on Monday and finally drafted the letter I had to write for my dad. I had been dragging my feet on that, but it turned out easier than I thought. It’s never really that hard to write a bunch of nice things about someone that you love (think big halibut!). I sent it off to my father’s divorce attorney lady for approval before I write the thing by hand…been so long since I’ve picked up a pen, not sure I know how to use one. What I got back as replies tore me apart.
I don’t know if my letter made him sound like a saint or she simply wanted me to make him out to be one because she kept telling me…oh maybe you should mention this…or you forgot to say that. It kills me because everything that she mentioned that I might have “forgotten” to mention wasn’t forgotten. He isn’t that man. He is my father, the man with lots of faults. The man who cheats on his wife excessively, lies to his family, beats his wife and children, and gambles away fortunes. Everything she says brings back an age old question of, why do I defend a man that has caused my family so much pain? Simply…I will always stand by the ones that I love. And honestly, he truly is a good father to me. I do wonder sometimes, if at least one person on the planet knows you inside-out and loves you for who you are, how bad of a person can you be?
I feel a guilt trip coming on. I know I’m going to get the…well, if you love your father so, why can’t you embellish the truth a bit to help him out? Because I stand by my belief that I do whatever helps me sleep best at night, I can not “embellish” even to help a loved one. I’m not even sure if I’m truly helping at that point. I simply hope that if I can’t deliver what the attorney needs that my father still understands that I did the best that I can, and that I didn’t take the easy way out by walking away.
She keeps mentioning that I’m “his favorite one”, which really only irks me. I’m not competing with my siblings for my parents’ love. If by “favorite”, she meant “grown child that doesn’t have a No Contact Order on him” than yeah, I guess I’m a favorite…I guess that’s something I could puff up proudly and announce at the next big family gathering. Otherwise, what does it matter, I wish for my parents to love us all equally.
As a kid, you look to your parents to teach you right from wrong, they have all the answers. As an adult, you realize your parents are only human and that they actually do “wrong”…it’s up to you to understand that they are perhaps still growing like you, and trying to figure stuff out. Sometimes the roles will reverse, and you will end up being the person that have to teach your parents what it means to be patient, to show kindness, to love, and to understand. There are times in the past when my mother had expressed anger when I help my father because of her understandable bitterness toward him, all I can do is remind her, "Mother, I'm simply doing what you've taught me all my life. That no matter what, the two of you are my parents. And as such, I will always try my best to honor the two of you." I’m so tired; my family has a way of picking out bad timing on my work schedule to stir drama.
People often say they simply wish to be loved, but when that is exactly all that you offer them…quite often it’s not enough. After all, when you get down to it, if you offer me your love or a piece of steak…I’m going to have to investigate on the quality and preparation of said choice of beef before I take my pick. Awww…think about it, there’s actually a slight chance that I might take your love over some over-cooked Grade F meat-product, that’s pretty good of me. *puffs up proudly and goes to bed*

Seward Park tonight.-->

Boo on the Sun

Ooooh...so hard to come into work today. Sunny day. Fuck you, sun! ...Oh baby, I'm sorry, you know I don't mean that. I only wish to spend more time with you. But I can't, because you see baby, I have this annoying habit called paying bills, and that means job. So I have to work today. So stop taunting me when I have to work on a Sunday. We can play when I die and have to burn in hell, because you are the burninating master.
It really doesn't help that some of my friends are off backpacking some really cool trails. Hmmm...I'm going to have a bunch of weekdays off soon and no one to backpack with...maybe should try solo backpacking too.

Tatoosh Ridge

God damned the drive to Tatoosh Ridge was far…I wanted some alone time but 2+ hours of driving is a bit more than I had in mind. I didn’t realize how far it was when I was looking at the map, I just wanted a tough hike with gorgeous view. There’s not that many from the WTA site that looks any closer (I generally look for “Most Difficult” + “Best” or “Pretty Good”). I plugged the address into my car GPS in the morning and thought about maybe switching back to Mount Si…but I really didn’t want to.
The trail was excellent for solitude hiking because there really wasn’t anyone there. Most of the hike up the initial part of the trail was like any other hikes…lots of trees…lots of bugs. Oh god, the bugs! Actually there were more bugs per square inch than all my other hikes combined. Swarming! Nothing bad and bloodsucking, just gross. It’s yechy to hike through a cloud of gnats, they just cover you. Even though I know they’re not trying to eat me alive, it’s unnerving to see my arm dotted with these little bugs…not to mention you end up breathing them in…getting them in your mouth and sinus. EEEEK! Oh…and in the forest part of the hike, it was like spider D-Day. Seriously they were just dive bombing from trees everywhere. I found yet another good reason to bring a wide brimmed hat, because it’s infinitely better to have spiders hanging from your hat than crawling along your breasts. EEEEEK!
Getting out in clearing up top was so nice, even with the sun cooking me alive. I’m sunburned all over again. Even my girls are getting toasty…I seem to have forgotten to put sunscreen on them, because contrary to male fantasies, we don’t sit around rubbing lotion on our breasts all the time.
I really really lucked out though because right around 2/3 of the way, a couple hiked up and apparently they had hiked this trail about half dozen times. They were my tour guide angels because for the last mile or so, the trail was completely covered in the snow without any old tracks to lead me to the lookout point.
As we hiked along, they suddenly stopped and pointed behind me, Mount Rainier appeared out of no where. They were just adorable people with a lot of hiking experience, they mentioned that they were surprised to see me there because hardly anyone hikes there (I really lucked out in finding them). The dude was even more of an angel by leading the way and helping with kicking in steps in the snow (kicking in steps is so fucking unbelievably tiring). I seriously would not have made it to Tatoosh Lookout without them.
The place is just unbelievable…the view…stunning. After we rounded the first ridge, the guy said they were stopping because he was too tired to go on. I look up at the viewpoint that was oh so close and yet so far, and freaking covered in snow…and bid them farewell. I didn’t make it this far to stop.
I slogged on, at least at this place even if I tip over the edge and fell, it looks like a slightly less steep dropping…it’ll hurt yeah, but I’ll probably still have a few of my teeth and live to tell. I still think I’m sometimes God’s idea of a bad joke...I can see it now:
Let’s make a girl that loves hiking really hard hikes so she’ll need lots of elevation gain to enjoy it, and then let’s give her an insane fear of height. Excellent! This is almost better than making her love video games but they make her sick to her stomach. Brilliant!
I got to the top of the lookout…and WOW…360 view…Mount Rainier up close, Mount Adams right behind me, Mount St Helen next to it. I can even see a bit of Mount Hood. The day was just so beautiful and clear. Ever see anything so beautiful it makes you stop breathing, and it overwhelms you so much you almost want to cry? Yeah, well...me neither. *flexes biceps* I figured I must be getting all emotional from being tired and hungry (I'm a big girl, I'm allowed to cry when I'm hungry), so I sat down and ate lunch on that ridge in between all those mountains. I sat and stared at the crag on Rainier where Muir is tucked in…I still remember how much I wished to be able to camp there two weekends ago. I still hope to do so some time this year.
At some point during lunch, I heard the other two hikers stomping their way up. They got up, looked around and smiled…and the guy thanked me for hiking up, “I wouldn’t have continued on if you didn’t.” I thanked them both in return, “I wouldn’t have even gotten to that first ridge without the two of you.” Nice to see that I could inspire them to keep trekking, missing the view from where they first stopped would have been such a pity.
I feel a bit bad that many prehistoric animals died to fuel my trip out there…but god damned, the place was so beautiful. I keep thinking on the way up, why they hell did I drive all the out there just to hike around some mountain, and then it all comes together when you’re at the top…even on the path back, just watching Rainier along the path back…so beautiful it hurts.
Photos from the trip here.

Call Off the Search and Rescue!

I live...but if you were planning to send in a Saint Bernard with a drink thingie, go ahead and send it my way. I'm even more sun burned...definitely extra crispy, maybe even crusty on the edges. Also coated in salt by the end of the trail.-->

The Hike Goes On

I think I'm going to solo hike Tatoosh Ridge today. So if you don't hear from the short girl soon, send in the rescue crew!

Pill Popper

I know I’ve been in a bit too much of a health kick lately, but honestly, I think it’s keeping me sane and happy during this crunch mode. Working no less than 6 days a week, some 9-12 hours a day, I always tend to burn out, then get sick on and off. I’m feeling pretty damned good these days. The beauty of spending a lot of time hiking/backpacking is that it makes you want to take good care of your body. When I used to drink like a fish (yeah, yeah, that’s like all of two-three months ago)…I would drink to the point where my body feels like crap and all I could say is, “Oh yeah!? Well, you’re going to take the crap I give you, and like it dammit!” Now that I’m hiking, I’m thinking I should treat myself better so that I could last longer. It’s hard to not grow an appreciation for what your body can handle. I really wouldn’t mind being one of those people that never stop hiking even in their 70s. I would love to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail some day.
So I just started taking some multi-vitamins again. I tried getting into that habit a few years ago when my doctor told me it’s a good idea even if I am pretty healthy. I looked at the pills and remembered why I quit. Those pills are ginormous…you should always have a good friend nearby that is well skilled in the Heimlich maneuver when attempting to take these things.
I can live with the idea of dying in some bad backpacking accident...but death by multivitamin? I'll have to kick my own ass after I go into the light.

In Need of a Crayon

My dad called me up at 8 this morning. I was already up and reading, but you know what…it’s still freaking 8am. He needed some info for his divorce attorney…and I had previously asked to speak to her regarding the letter I needed to write for him. Why’s that? Well…apparently I had been sleeping during the section in Freshman Writing 101 on “How to plead with the court to not sentence your father to jail for forever.” So, I just needed some formatting guidelines. Two inches on each edge maybe? No flowery borders? Should I print it on vellum or lacy pink stationery?
So the attorney gets on the phone and for some odd reason she decides she has to butter me up.
Attorney lady: Hi, Champagne, nice talking to you. Your dad told me lots of nice things about you. You know you’re his favorite daughter.
Me: Aw, that’s great, but there are only two of us, so I had a fifty-fifty chance in being the favorite.
Attorney lady: Sorry, what was that?
Me: Oh nothing, so about the letter…
It’s 8am, I’m allowed to amuse myself a bit. I thought it was funny that she would tell me I’m his “favorite”…who the hell does that? I assumed that it’s common knowledge that you’re not supposed to play favorites out in the open?
I moved onto asking how I should address the letter and what the court is expecting. She told me to just stick with telling the court about how he’s been a good father to me…oh and it should be handwritten, so it looks more personal.
This reminds me of those new road signs on some highways, with something like, “Drive carefully, my daddy works here” in a font that looks like a five-years old wrote that sign…it kinda works by tugging at your heart a bit. So I’m thinking I need to pick up a tablet of that nappy fibery newsprint that kids write on in kindergarten…you know, the kind of paper that a simple pink eraser could tear a hole into with two rubs? I’ll get some of that, and compose the letter with a fat red crayon.
*sigh* I know this has the potential to get messy…it probably will not only be a letter. I’ve already come to terms with that. I’ve figured out this much, if you’re going to do something for someone out of love, be prepared for the bumpy ride…because if you’re going to resent them at the end of it, you might as well as not have bothered at all.
And we end with, Seattle tonight.-->

Granite Mountain

I went to Starbucks to meet up with Dave at 9. At about 15 after, I was thinking maybe the boy was too hungover or something again. I called him and it turns out he was in the other Starbucks in the plaza. Fuck you, Starbucks! Do you really need TWO Starbucks in the exact same tiny plaza within throwing distance of each other?
We set off for Granite Mountain some 30-40 minutes away. It’s so nice to go hiking with an old friend, the drive is shorter and the hike seems less strenuous. It could actually be because the hike was pretty tame, but having the two of us talk our heads off the entire time does make time fly.
Apparently Dave has been hiking/backpacking since he was seventeen…it seems the entire world has been hiking/backpacking since their teens, where the fuck was I!!? Did the world conspire to be more outdoorsy than me while I slept away my teenage years? He mentioned that he had tried to get me to go hiking with him a good few times back in the days. I asked him, “Did I tell you to go fuck yourself?” He replied, “Yeah, I think you did.” Sounds about right.
It’s strange to hangout with an old party friend in a very sober environment. Every other sentence is, “Did I tell you about…?” And, “Yeah, it sounds familiar…we probably talked about that while we were smashed…”
I kept wondering the whole way up how this hike could be considered “Most Difficult” by the WTA…it really wasn’t that hard…until the end. As we neared the top, we saw a few different groups of hiker camping down for lunch, it’s rare that hikers make it so close to the top and not attempt it. We spoke to one of the guy and he told us that the end consists of a giant boulder field or trekking through a narrow snowy ledge, he warned us that the boulder field is a pretty tough climb while the snow ledge has a sharp drop-off to the side if we slip. I must have looked a bit worried because Dave asked if I wanted to just stop there like so many others. I didn’t even have to think about it, “Fuck no!”
Daniel had remarked a few times how tough I am, but what he doesn’t know is, I’m about 99% stubborn and 1% tough. It’s why I worry that I might get into something that is over my head, because I would be too stubborn to know when to quit and would end up breaking myself.
We ended up climbing the boulder field because my lame ass is extremely afraid of height and that sharp drop down with many boulders to catch your fall looks like too much joy to be had for me. Dave was in heaven with the boulder field, he's like a happy mountain goat there. This particular boulder field was different from any other that I’ve climbed up because many of the boulders were the size of me or larger, so they don’t form a tight pack together, so if you fall into some of the gaps between them, it’s a long way down, and it might smart a little if you get stabbed by a giant rock. Dave commented on how much harder it seems for me to climb because I have shorter legs, I told him I have a handy Swiss Army knife with a wood saw tool to reduce his leg length if he wanted the extra challenge.
As I scampered up the boulder field slowly, some dude without a shirt went leaping by, bouncing from the top of one sharp boulder edge to the next. Crazy. When we got to the top, the dude without a shirt was still shirtless. I dragged out every article of warm clothing I owned to ward off the chill and made some hot chai.
We ended up sitting at the top and chatting for a long while. I told Dave how happy I was that we can actually do something healthy together. When I told him that I stopped hanging out because I got sick of the “getting wasted” part, he told me I should have just said something, because he thought I was mad at them all these years. That’s a bit heartbreaking, I didn’t stop to think that my walking away from my friends could leave them thinking I hated them. I love Dave, he really is a good friend…I guess I was just being a bit gutless by disappearing. Dave told me even if I didn’t want to drink, I could have just hung out and not drink…I stared at him, “Seriously now, you think that was going to happen?” He laughed.
On the way home, Dave invited me out to join my old drinking crew, I told him I had to pass. Then at 1:30am Dave drunk dials me to try and get me out again. I can hear in the background, our buddy, Kevin was shouting random things that he wanted Dave to throw into the message. Some things never change.

Old Friend of the Lizard

I’m shedding my skin…like a little lizard except without the cool eyeball licking ability. My sunburn is starting to “heal” I think. I know it’s gross, but peeling off your skin is oddly entertaining…hours of fun to be had sitting in front of the mirror trying to tear off the biggest flake of skin. Reminds me of being in elementary school, we would put Elmer’s glue on the back of our hands and peel it off when it dries to create this patch of fake dead skin. Did I mention I’m easily entertained?

My coworkers gathered for beer Friday again today, I told them I had to pass…so that I can go home and read. A couple guys came by to check my forehead. Another guy told them to maybe not stand so close to me since “not-drinking” could cause instability in me, thus promoting violent tendency. Smart asses.

I’ve got a pretty early hike tomorrow that I’m very excited about, partly for the hiking, but mostly for my partner in crime. This morning, I text messaged my old roommate, Dave, whom I hadn’t seen in about two-three years now and asked him if he wanted to go hike with me. He promptly replied with a yes. I really miss Dave. We were old drinking buddies that became roommates because I just ended up crashing at his place all the time along with the party crew, I kind of fell out of touch with him because of that fact. I didn’t feel like drinking so damned much at some point…by damned much, I mean no less than ten beers…that's just on weeknights. Because we were roommates, we were pretty close friends, but still we were bad influence on each other. Sometimes, you just have to let a friend go when you’re not in the same place in your life. He used to randomly go hiking and backpacking with his stepfather and I would always give him shit back then. So…I just remembered that he loves being outdoors so I’ve brought him back to my life, hopefully to be better influence on each other this time. He was so excited when I spoke to him earlier asking if he need his ice axe and crampons. I told him, "Dude, I’m not that hardcore, just bring your boots, gaiters, and titanium cup." He was still giddy. The hike I have in mind for tomorrow is pretty evil, and he hasn't hike for a good half a year, I hope his giddiness will endure.
Seattle tonight.-->

A Little Wallpaper of Good Cheer

I’ve been a bit under the weather lately…it’s not like I’m feeling sick, but I know I am sick. I know this because I lose my appetite when I’m sick. I opted to skip lunch today so Brian bought me some lunch while he was out with the lunch crew. He came back with two giant slabs of ribs and a side of chicken wings (this is my typical order, meat with a side of meat…did I mention I’m a carnivore?) and normally when a guy does this for me, I declare my undying love for him. Today, I looked through the boxes…a bit confused by these cook animal flesh stuff, thanked him and pushed it aside (if you know me at all, this is a sign that I’m on my death bed). I went back to work. Some while later an artist came by with some questions and I nearly stabbed him for no good apparent reason…he asked a very simple question about whether we can repurpose the same tree for two things. The answer is always a simple, no we can’t have something looking exactly the same and doing two things, just change the color on the tree…I contemplated strangle him with my mouse cord. I had to calm myself down and wonder what the hell is wrong with me…cover your eyes boys… Time of the month? No. Indigestion? No, I haven’t eaten yet… Hey, that’s it, it’s freaking 5pm and I have yet to eat.
I’m a simple creature, I don’t feel like eating when I get sick. I get cranky as fuck when I’m hungry; even if I don’t know I am…food go in the pie-hole NOW!!!
I decided to leave work early today, and by early, I mean work a normal 8 hour day…unheard of during crunch mode. I made a little detour to my favorite park on the way home. Being that it’s actually really early out (7pm early!), I got to wander around in the woods part of the park where the boogey monsters are still asleep. I hadn’t seen this part of the park in years; it’s even more beautiful than I remembered it.
Considering how many people wander around this park I was very surprised by the complete lack of people in the forest trail. I’m also a bit surprised by how few people come to this place when it’s so close to downtown Seattle. The view of downtown skyline is always gorgeous here.
This coming up month will be gloriously grueling with our project completion date set for mid July. You know it’s a bad sign when your project producer comes up to you, all giddy and excited, saying, “We found a 24-hour Starbucks nearby!” I just put up this picture as my computer wallpaper to remind myself to get out as soon as possible.Dorky, I know, but the good cheer from that trip has to last me another month. My old wallpaper rocks, but I've had it for years.And if you’re not familiar with Strong Bad or been out of touch with him lately, here’s a recent favorite of mine. Everyone that has been introduced to Strong Bad by a friend usually gets one that reminded someone of you...this is mine.

The Bastard and the Blogger

I originally started this blog to give myself something to do when I’m hungover or too drunk to sleep. Now that my life is naturally selecting for less hungover/drunken babbling, I’ve rediscovered something about myself. I actually enjoy writing. If memory serves me correct, I used to love creative writing classes…then liberal arts college came along with its many term papers and stamped out all will to compose extraneous sentences.

I guess this is pretty much my way of expressing any creativity in me, because I can’t draw worth a damn like some Shawn person. Bastard! Seriously, don’t make me scare people with my stick figures again! I have done that…I told Brian on more than one occasion that I can’t even draw a stick figure. One day, he said, “That’s not possible that you can’t mess up a stick figure. Go draw one on the board.” I did. He started to say something nice about it then grimaced, “See, I told… Oh WOW, you really can’t draw a stick figure. What the hell is wrong with his head? It looks all crushed and the eyes make it look retarded.” STICK FIGURE! I got all that from drawing a stick figure…that coming from my best friend who was trying very hard to be encouraging too. Had it been anyone else, I’m sure that person would just turn to me and say, “You should saw your right hand off with a rusty butter knife and end the terror now.”

So this blog became my place to do some sober rambling, not much of a step forward. I do wonder sometimes if I stumbled upon this blog myself, (not belonging to me) would I care to read it. I would think maybe not initially, but now, I would totally read it just to see when the short Chinese gal would eat it. Yeah, I would rub my hands together after every weekend to await pictures of slings and casts. Don’t look at me like that, I would be nice about it and leave nice little comments, “Oh noes! Get well soon!” And then I’ll go back to my snickering. Then go back and be encouraging, “You know you just gotta get back on that horse! You canh dew eet!” *snicker*

I had a nasty migraine today. It might be a tumor? Of course it’s a tumor. Death had plans for me getting cirrhosis, but now, as a backup method, a tumor is implanted.

I’ve been swimming happily in my sea of new books, finished a short crappy book and a new comic book that I’ve been waiting half a year for. I started on four of the other books then finally settled happily on Rebel Without a Crew, by Robert Rodriguez who wrote and directed my favorite segment in “Four Rooms: The Misbehavers” (this also came highly recommended from Ian who decided I would love this book based on books that I like, he was sooo right). It’s a fucking hilarious book. In the beginning he talks about being a human guinea pig to raise money for his first film, “El Mariachi” (I need to see this)…some of the stuff they go through as a lab rat is insane...hell they watched another rat group on low-fat/low-cal diet go insane. Thing I love the most about non-fiction books is, you almost always come away learning something new and interesting whether you dig the subject or not.

Hello, my name is Cranky McBitch.

My sister wanted to go drinking tonight…but I had to pass because I’ve been a bit cranky lately…and she’s still a scary malnourished vegetarian. While I’m sure there could be endless comedic value in, “So Cranky McBitch and her sister, Fainting Goat, walks into the bar…” It’s not always that fun to live the joke.
Amazon finally got their shit together and sent me my orders at long last. An entire month’s worth of drug supply minus the Van Gogh book which is further delayed for TWO months…so suddenly I have 11 new books to keep me happy.
Seattle tonight. -->

In Pursuit of Less Drama In My Life

You know what I don’t like…drama. I know everyone says that, but I think some people secretly crave it. I hate it. I’ve had enough of chasing multiple gal friends down when they take off running and crying because of something someone said upsetting them. That sucks because I wasn’t always in that great of a shape and my legs are short dammit! Then there’s the fact that Seattle weather isn’t always so friendly to people running around without their jacket…but when girlfriends are upset, it’s a bit hard to say, “Can you hold the waterworks and drama for one sec while I put on a nice warm layer, my dear?” The fact that running around in the cold is a major buzz killer doesn’t help either.
So for the most part, I try to stay out of drama's path. I climb mountains…I don’t even get signals up there, so drama can’t reach me. Then I get all hungry and stuff and have to climb back down. *sigh*
I had a great time staying home, still giggling from recent adventure while rubbing lotion on blistering sunburns. On a side note, fuck you, ear lobes! Where the hell did you guys come from? I didn’t even know you guys were around. Don’t go around announcing your existence to me by means of painful blisters. I shun you both. I’m still not going to put sunblock on you two…have you seen movies where the guys put sunscreen on the ladies, it’s not on their fucking ear lobes!
So back to, fuck you drama! I seem to get the crappy kind of drama that only really bad soap opera writers make up, because it’s just so far out there. I made the mistake of leaving the house. I left to grab some dinner and movie with my sister.
My sister has been going on this vegetarian kick for a couple weeks because life hasn’t been going so smoothly for her, and us being Buddhist and all, she gave up meat…because that means sparing a life…blah blah…religious crap about good karma. Problem is…the girl is anemic even when she was eating meat. She started complaining about how she hasn’t been feeling so great. I told her maybe instead of giving up meat, she should give up drinking. Halfway through the meal she turns green and said she felt faint, so I went to fetch her car from the valet. She goes to sit on a couch while I did this, I turn back to check on her, and she was gone…I went to bathroom to check on her. Someone appeared to have vomited along the way...not sure whom...but it looks like we might not be going back there anytime soon. I drove her car back to her place with her lying down in the backseat. She told me she was already starting to feel better and to let her rest there, so I told her I’ll catch a movie nearby and if she feels worse at any moment to just call me.
I got back to my car and called up Sung who was so gracious enough to keep me from being a lonely loser at the theater. “Cars” was pretty damned good. Pixar rules! They seem to have isolated the element of “cute” and are able to apply it to everything…hell they made CARS cute. My favorite example of this is, look at “Bug’s Life” and “Antz”. The first is cute, adorable and funny, the other latter is creepy and fugly.
I dropped Sung off after the movie and saw that my dad had called. He left me a message saying it was regarding “urgent matter”. I called him back and he asked me to write him a letter…similar to what I had done for him in the past. I asked him to clarify that statement. He said he needed a letter of character witness for the court. I asked him why he would need that when that case was near history.
A brief history here, my dad has a history of anger problem…extreme anger problem. I can see in his eyes that he is sometimes not there when angry. He is a wife beater. It’s why my mother eventually divorced him after many years of abuse. About five years ago, my company sent me to U.K. to work on our first Harry Potter game…during which time things got really bad. I came home to find that my dad was jailed and that my mom and siblings all have restraining orders on him. In the end, I had to stand in court on his behalf as a character witness. Yes, I know what he did was wrong, but you know what, I simply told the court the truth from my side, he was always a good father to me. It was hard, because I feel like I was betraying my mother, but she was not the one being incarcerated.
Now, five years later…I’m asking him why he needs a letter. He has moved on in his life, he has a wife, and three kids (two were twins) with her. He said she’s divorcing him and taking him to court. Without his elaborating, I know he did hit her. I told him I’ll think about it.
I’ve been thinking about it since. A part of me does not want to do this, because it was hard enough the first time, the second time would simply make me an enabler. Still, I define my life by choices that best allows me to sleep at night…I can not go to bed with a clear conscience if I did nothing to help my father when he asks. Far as how I justify to myself the fact that I’m helping someone that repeats his mistake and causes other people pain? I tell myself this, I fear the person that has all his loved ones turn their backs on him more than the person that has not been justifiably condemned by all. Whether this is wrong or right to another person, I really don't give a damn. In the end, he'll probably serve time again, it only reduces the sentence a bit so that he doesn't come out an embittered old man.
Keep in mind, this is all for a very selfish reason…because last time I checked, the man owes me a halibut fishing trip. So until I catch a fish that weighs more than me, I would like it if he spends a little less time in jail.
I did call my sister back and she said she was feeling better…I told her to eat some damned meat already or at the very least go get some damned vitamin and iron supplements…damned sister and her attempts at getting scurvy.

Camp Muir - Mount Rainier

God damned, Rainier was brutal! I’m so sun burned my own mother might not recognize me. Yeah, I’m burned, really BURNED on my face, neck and ears…it hurts. *sob*
From the start, the day was nice, too nice. That no-rain dance I’ve been doing has been a bit too effective, you can tell by the fog everywhere that it maybe should be raining, but instead the sun started cooking us alive. I’ve never been so damned grateful for the drifting fog that covers up the view, because it provided such a welcome shelter from the harsh direct death rays which magnified itself by a bajillion when bouncing off the snow and reflected back to the hikers.
The worst part of the hike had to be the last 500 feet up…that in itself took at least an hour. Never in all my other hikes have I hit the point where I couldn’t convince my body to just take another step. I’ve been exhausted before, but usually when I see the endpoint, I feel a new burst of energy. This time, it didn’t matter. This time, I could only take 3 steps before being forced to stop and catch my breath. I’ve never felt like such a wimp in my entire life…usually I can tell myself, “Just keep moving, just keep moving…” It’s really hard to convince yourself it’s a mind game when you feel light headed, especially if you don't want to be in a situation where you over-exert yourself and pass-out.When we finally got the Camp Muir, there were a bunch of people there…everyone was super friendly and wanting to talk and was willing to share equipment and stories. I was in a state of stupid euphoria...giggly stupid euphoria. I did not want to leave.
We stayed as long as we could, then took off snowboarding. Oh how I’ve missed snowboarding. But then my legs were crap and couldn’t control the board worth a damn…and the snow was slush with an ice crust…still it was fun. Unfortunately, there were parts that were rocky and uphill…so we had to take off the boards and carry them some more. The moon was out by the time we finished.
One thing that was a pleasant surprise to me was the how hikable snowboarding boots were. I'm one hundred percent certain that snowboarding boots are scientifically engineered to maximize the chance of a face plant when walking down the stairs of the lodge bars.
This particular trip will stand out in my mind as the harshest thing I’ve been through for a long time. Can I recommend this trip to anyone else? Fuck no! Will I listen if anyone else told me how bad the trip could be? Fuck no. Sometimes, you just have to go and see for yourself. Telling someone that a hike is really hard doesn’t mean much, telling them that carrying a 30lbs pack for hours is fun doesn’t mean much either. Was it worth it? Hell yeah! Will I do this again? I honestly don’t know… Maybe when I forget about the suck part in two years or so…but knowing me, in two years I will have moved on from the outdoorsy kick and be the president of the local quilting club.
I was supposed to go into work today…but I had to call in “immobile”…that’s what I told them. I just realized I simply want a day where I sit home and do nothing...I haven’t done that for as long as I can remember. I need to sit home and douse myself in aloe vera.
Maybe I'll go see Cars with my sister tonight...she's a little irked because I haven't hung out with her in nearly a month.
More pictures here.
Edit: Just added a few more from Daniel.

Better than AA

One thing I’ve noticed from doing crazy long hikes is that in addition to leaving you to hangout with your mental flaws, you discover your physical flaws. I’m pigeon-toed, it never really bothered me…other people might notice this but I really don’t give a flying fuck if it bothers them…but this flaw is very noticeable to me after a long hike. Oh the fact that I’m flat-footed doesn’t really help my cause. After long hikes, I can barely walk straight with my feet trying to curl themselves in. I’m pretty sure I was meant to be a princess and to sit on my ass all day…or a programmer. While we’re on the subject of ass, I think mine is getting bigger with these damned hikes. I’m actually gaining weight from all the exercise I’m getting. Since hiking uphill seems to only exercise my butt and thigh muscles, I’m thinking I gained about 5 lbs of ass. Pretty soon, I can be a backup for some ghetto booty hip-hop video…I’ll be the big-booty Asian gal in the back with string beans for arms.
Someone do an anti-rain dance with me, just for this weekend. Please? I’m finally going to get to go hike up to Camp Muir on Rainier with my snowboard. God damned, I miss my snowboard. Of course I might learn to hate it while carrying the board AND the boots freaking 4.5 miles up the mountain with 4600 ft elevation gain in the snow…but damned, coming back down will be suh-weeet. Still, if you happen to be on Rainier this weekend, and you see a short Chinese girl cussing loudly at her snowboard, just keep moving on or you’ll get a share of the cussing too, I’ve got plenty to spare. No, Camp Muir is not the summit, although I do want to try to hit the summit maybe later this year after getting all trained up for it. Thing that sucks about Rainier is, trying to hike or climb the place is not only about skill, but also about weather. If the weather sucks, even the most skilled climber will not attempt it. Then there’s always the danger of a whiteout.
You know what AA people should do instead of finding God. They should go on burly hikes. Knowing that you have to hike something insanely tough with the knowledge that dehydration can encourage altitude sickness will beat any Twelve Step Program.

Books Are Evil

I am a creature of many drug habits. You already know about REI, my main supplier of the highly addictive and insanely expensive cocaine. Meet my other dealer, Amazon.com. Amazon sells the less expensive, keeps me mellow and happy weed. I might have mentioned that I read a lot (by my standard anyhow)…by a lot, I mean I usually buy around 6-10 books a month, finishing around 2/3 of them…the leftover 1/3 are books that I just skimmed through and/or got quickly bored of, keep in mind, I'm usually in middle of reading 10 or so books. I usually get 2-3 shipments of books from Amazon of $25+ to get their free shipping per month. Recently, they’ve been trying to push their stupid “Amazon Prime” membership and this even more stupid new “Upgrade to Read Your Book Online”. I’m not in that much of a hurry to get my books most of the time, so I didn’t want their stupid Prime membership for speedy shipping…not to mention the books are usually sent from two cities away from me, so shipping is usually super fast. Now I think they’re intentionally holding onto my books to force me to upgrade…this is just stupid. They want me to pay them an extra $4.38 just so that I can read a book online that I've already paying for...before I get the physical copy.
They currently have two sets of my orders placed over 2 weeks ago that have not been shipped. One of the orders contains "The Van Gogh Blues", which has shipping estimate of 1-3 weeks, so I can understand...but my other order of five freaking books are ALL 24 hours shipping.
So today I finally broke down and went crawling back to my old overpriced weed dealer, Barnes & Noble. I forget how much I miss visiting B&N. I forget how much that place rapes my wallet with all the billions of cool information contained in their glossy bound paper. Still, it's nice to grab a pile of books and sit on some armchair and skim for hours. My buddy/coworker, Ian emailed me with a recommendation of "Man's Search For Meaning" which I had to buy because I've actually read about the guy in another book and was very interested in his story. It's really too bad Ian lives in California because we have similar taste in books (anything fun and non-fiction) and being able to trade books with someone would save me so much money. Read any good non-fiction book lately that you would recommend?

I've surprised myself with how oddly not sore I've been from my backpacking trip...I mean sure my legs were worthless and retarded on Sunday night, but I was fine by Monday. Then I went to the gym today, and I realize how wrong I am. Each machine that isolates a certain muscle group will remind me where I am sore...which is everywhere. So I guess somehow by the power of being in pain all over, I'm not in any pain.

Happy Armageddon Day

In local news, 6/6/06 hasn't caused a giant ball of flame to hurl at earth, killing us all. I guess we could go out and celebrate by drinking. Or better yet, we can watch funny Fall Out Boy videos then go punch an emo kid in the face.

My First Backpacking Trip

So it would appear that despite many people’s effort to prevent me from backpacking with invites to “drinking”, I managed to avoid them all, drag my ass up at 6 on Saturday morning, pack my shit up and drive over to my buddy’s house. I arrived half an hour late because it turns out, packing for a backpacking trip takes a bit longer than packing for a standard vacation where you throw everything you’ve ever owned in two suitcases and call it done. I had to hem and haw over every article of extra clothing and necessary food supply.
When I got to Daniel’s house, he told me his buddy, Dave is coming with us. He warned me that Dave was an old party buddy of his that he hasn’t seen in years and never hiked with, so he’s not sure what to expect. We picked Dave up along the way and started on our 2.5 hours drive out to Leavenworth, which is where the trailhead is.
We stopped by Sultan Bakery for some breakfast, where Dave and I sized each other up with you-better-fucking-carry-your-own-weight-and-not-ruin-my-trip eyes. This backpacking trip is no joke, it’s a 7 miles hike with 4000 feet elevation gain, at the end of which you camp next to piles of snow. Campfire is strictly prohibited so if you get cold, you better have enough clothing and gear to keep warm. Turns out, Dave had been backpacking since he was 12, was in the Army for a few years and have done search and rescue training…so I stopped worrying about him. I think Dave was still a bit unsure about me, because he pointed out that my pants matched my purse and they’re shiny…hot damn, I didn’t even notice…but they’re black, of course they’re going to match. REI somehow caught on that girls like this “hiking” thing and made clothing that are pretty for girls. I simply wanted some clothing that had “moisture-wicking” ability…if it happened to look good all the better. I tend to sweat buckets on the trail and could really use all the help I can get on staying dry...those pants convert to shorts too.
When we got to the trailhead, I started getting nervous…suddenly the idea of hiking uphill for 7 miles with a quarter of my weight on my back seemed scary. Daniel was there the previous weekend with another buddy of his, and his buddy only made it about 4.5 miles in before he collapsed so Daniel had to carry both their packs and find a decent place to camp (you’re not supposed to camp just anywhere there, that could get you a big ticket). I told him to not tell girls stuff like that right before their first backpacking trip. He assured me that his buddy wasn’t in hiking shape, whereas, if I could hike Mailbox for the fun of it, I should be fine. I think he gives me a little too much credit for being tough, little does he know I’m constantly about two steps from snapping and bawling like a bitchy princess. So we put on our gaiters and off we went with me leading the party since I will be the slowest with my short legs.
The day ended up extremely beautiful and sunny instead of rainy so the guys changed to shorts and t-shirts, which I would have opted for until I heard the word “ticks”. Fuck that, I prefer more sweating over blood-losing by skin-burrowing bugs. The hike ended up being a lot easier than I thought it would be…the trail had a nice steady incline without being too steep on any parts of it, most of the trail was nicely shaded too, so being in black wasn’t too bad either. We did the entire hike with only a few short breaks. Overall, I thought the trail would be pretty easy without the extra weight and every section of the trail was just gorgeous, words and pictures do not do the place justice. The two bad things about the trails had to be the many fallen trees in the first section, and trying to cross a cement dam at Snow Lakes.
Fallen trees on the trails suck so hard. You have to try to somehow climb over or limbo under the giant logs…very difficult with giant pack on your back. The cement dam is scary because even though the water is only about 6 inches or so high, the water is fucking freezing, so you don’t want to get your feet wet (if you don’t have gaiters, you’re fucked). The water is moving very rapidly from Upper Snow Lake to Lower Snow Lake, so you could get pushed off the cement wall, which is only about 1.5 foot wide. Dave’s advice on crossing this is to make sure your backpack is NOT strapped in, so that if you get pushed over, you can ditch your pack. Oh…we also saw a sickly mountain goat on the trail, which other hikers warned us could be aggressive so we need to scare it away in case it tries to push us off the ledge.
We made it to camp and started setting up. Backpackers are a different breed of geeks, we all compared our gears (we had just about 3 of EVERTHING, a bit excessive, but we liked having our own stuff), and marveled in their weight and effectiveness…oh and they made fun of my fabulous pink Therm-a-Rest…those jealous bastards. We piled on layers of clothing to sit around and watch the stars. I’m so glad Daniel invited Dave. The guy is such a fucking riot; he’s the type of guy who would naturally own a party because everything he says is so damned outrageous and funny. He farted all the way in and out of the trail.
A few hours after we went to bed, the rain came pouring in. There’s nothing else quite like being all snuggly, warm and DRY in 30-something degrees weather while listening to the pitter-patter of rain on your tent.
Daniel had the bright idea to bring a tarp and set it up before we went to bed, so we had a nice shelter to sit under in the morning. While we sat around eating breakfast, I pointed out that there are fucking squirrels nearby…literally. Soon as I mentioned it, it became a squirrel orgy with squirrels crawling out of everywhere and nowhere. At least the squirrels settled a question I had for over a year…while I was working on the game for Narnia, we needed sound effects for squirrels, and the question was, “Do squirrels make noise?” I now know, they do…and they are damned loud…sounds a bit like birds.
We cleaned up and backpacked back out. My legs were bloody stumps by the end of it (carrying 30 extra lbs for 14 miles will do that to you)…but the trip was awesome. I can’t wait till the next. I would love to camp another night next time I come back just to have time to hike around to the other lakes. I've made a slide of a few pictures...really does not do the place justice (slide seems to work better in Explorer over Firefox). And a few more.
Home in Seattle, tonight. -->
My sister wanted to go out drinking, but sometimes...a walk alone is nicer.

Enchantment Lakes

I LIVE!

Thunder Showers

Hehehe, it's thunder storming here in Seattle. This has to be the best weekend to go backpacking, ever. If the bears don't eat me, I could get struck by lightning. Hey, don't start planning my funeral just yet, I said "could". My buddy emailed me yesterday saying some people bailed on the backpacking trip and said he would understand if I wanted to bail also. I told him we'll drag those bailers kicking and screaming with us, and there's no fucking way I would bail. This will probably be the only one WHOLE weekend I get off for the next month, I am fucking backpacking if my sorry ass has to go alone.

The Expert of Incompetence

I’ve been reading so much about backpacking and talking to everyone and their grandma about backpacking that I’m declaring myself the official expert on everything backpacking. Ask me anything about backpacking, I’ll have an answer! Go ahead, ask me! Why do people wear those goofy wide-brimmed hats? Well, aside from the obvious shield your eyes from the sun part, when it rains it’s nice to not have your sweat washed into your eyes constantly…and it keeps the rain from getting inside the neck of your jacket. Why not wear the hood that comes with your rainjacket? Well, I wear that too, but have you ever hike around with a good waterproof jacket hood on? You can’t hear shit. If you’re hiking with a friend, it makes conversation a royal pain in the ass. If you’re alone, not being able to hear the forest takes you out of the experience a bit. I would often be soaked in the neck and back area because I love the sound of rain in a forest.
Since I know everything there is to know, I should be able to construct a small village with a working plumbing system out of two banana leaves, a small twig and some duct tape, right? Wrong. All my knowledge is pretty much worth crap and has zero practical application. I know this because my buddy told me I should try to put my tent together before my first trip…and I did. My tent is a simple REI tent with two poles. It took me freaking one hour to put that damned thing up. That’s half an hour per pole! Was I drunk? No. Was I stoned? No, I wish I could yes because then I don’t have to admit I am completely incompetent at putting up a god damned tent.
Step 1) Insert either one of the two poles into the hole where it was obviously put there for your stupid tent pole to go into.
Step 2) Repeat with other pole and tent is built.
I was confused by this…it would appear I have a defective tent. There is not a hole where the pole should go in. Maybe I have the wrong one of “either one of the two poles” in hand. Yeah…switched poles. Maybe if I stare at the tent long enough, a hole will open up and the tent will build itself and a small dove will fly out…or I can just go to the other side of the tent where the hole was made. *sob* Future Awesome Boyscout of America, I will never be. I’ll just have to console myself with the fact that I boil some mean water.
I went to REI to pick up some “snow stakes” for my tent because according to my buddy, I need a different type of stake when I camp on snowy grounds. I get there and the REI guy asked me, “Which kind?” I told him I honestly don’t know, so he tried to sell me a couple unused store shelves. Then I asked him about a first aid kit, they have a rack full of them, with full lobotomy surgery in the woods type kit. I told him I just needed a basic kit because if anything were to go wrong, I’m pretty sure I’ll die, but I’d liked to apply a small band-aid on my forehead before I go unconscious. He said, “Yeah, you gotta look like you’ve at least tried.”

Too Straight

My buddy, Shawn (perma link to the right) IM’d me while I was at work earlier today saying he has an extra ticket to go to a burlesque show with his ex, Jenny performing/producing. I told him I would probably have to work late, blah blah, as I have been doing so. He said I should come out and have a drink and more blah blah. I respond with still more excuses. Quite frankly, I am a bit worried that I might be getting sick and I don’t want to give my immune system an excuse to puss out on me with, “Well, you’re the one drinking all those vodka!!!”
It’s all about priorities in your life, do I really want those drinks or do I want the backpacking trip. I say backpacking. Then in between all the “blah blah” I see a “free boobies” in his IM. I was sold. I somehow forget burlesque = boobies. And geez, I told him I was not thinking straight, or in some ways, too straight to forget the “free boobies” part. The show was magnificently fun. Jenny was adorable and I haven’t hung out with Shawn in a while so I missed him too.
It’s amazing how much life is about priorities. Every little thing is about “how badly do you want this?” I remember telling everyone about how I can’t plan worth shit…like seriously maybe a day ahead at MOST. Then I find people that want to go snowshoeing and snowboarding with me at Rainier, suddenly I’m booked almost a month ahead.
If I do get sick though, Shawn will get sporked too.

If I Get Sick...

My teammates have been falling ill left and right for the last two weeks. I've been lucky in that I haven't been hit. I'm starting to feel a slight head cold...I am going to be SOOOO pissed off if I fall ill right before my first backpacking trip. Seriously, I'm going to come back and kill them all with my titanium spork if they get me sick. Yes, I own a titanium spork! Now if it's not going to see the trails ever, it will see my coworkers' entrails. Bastages!