Saturday, December 10, 2005

Kick-Ass Week continued

German UranusI missed my training session with Andrew this morning... I had hoped he got me email the night before (that I'd have to reschedule), but he didn't and waited for me. UGH...I blew it, and yes, he called me on it too. I should've warned him at the beginning that the training sessions wouldn't be as hard as getting my ass there. Double UGH.

And it the week continued... D got in for the weekend and I picked her up from the garment district. We then drove two hours to Costa Mesa to pick up RQ, who was in town for a conference. Just so you know, Costa Mesa is NOT L.A., it's Orange County and another planet away -- and in Friday afternoon traffic, my ass got kicked a little more. And it didn't help that we were in the carpool lane and missed our exit by 10 miles because we were yakkin'. And that we had to wait for a valet at the Irvine Cheesecake Factory where we'd stop to use the restroom.

More driving and we barely made our dinner with Jeffrey and Alan (hi guys!) at Mer's restaurant at The Grove. And of course, I'm not dressed to see Uranian's show at a club -- I'm wearing a short skirt, T-shirt and black sandals and I look stupid. Especially retarded after the last two times I've seen him he's complimented me on how HOT I've looked. :) (Can I UGH any more?).

I'm crazy at the table and can't be present. I spill BBQ sauce on my shirt. Alan suggests I spill more on my shirt and go with a "tie-dyed" shirt that smells good. HAHAAH That's funny, but I'm even more ill because Uranian just called to ask me if I'm still coming. Yes, I say... and he says he'll put me on the guest list. I think he means how many people are coming to put on an RSVP -- he says, "I can only put one on the guest list." DUH. And then I react like a dork: "And you picked ME? Oh THANK YOU!" AAARRGGHHHHHHHHH! Sweet Jehovah's Witness (as Viv C. would say) -- What the hell is happening to me?!

I'm so inauthentic I can't tell my friends we need to get our butts moving... I say, sure, go ahead and order a dessert! And can we go to Cost Plus and get me a wrap or something and some chinese slippers because I look TERRIBLE and we have to go because he's got me as his one guest.

We dash into Cost Plus and I look at Jeffrey: "Jeffrey, be my Will... DRESS ME!" and he goes to the exact right part of the store and everyone is throwing scarves on me and R. is laughing saying, maybe you'd like to wear a mask, or a cabinet (or whatever was around) with that?

D. buys a beatiful blue/purple scarf for me before I just walk out with it and we kick ass on the freeway getting to Santa Monica. Of course I'm on the phone with Viv, who's at Rite Aid and looks for what kind of footwear they have at this drugstore that might look better that these miserable sandals. But there wasn't anything there but slippers and men's fake penny loafers, and D. & RQ can't stop laughing how nuts I'm acting.

But we get there, and of course, I'm stuck in the bathroom when they come out to do their first piece. It was lovely... the music was fun and "he" was the best (I'm biased of course, and this is the first time I see him play). He also had a whole corner booth of friends and supporters... and D. & RQ agree he's cute.

I won't go into any more Uranian stuff... other than I read his his ex's hands and her friends hands by candlelight at the club... details and minutiae are for another time, another blog.

After some fake salsa dancing with my girls (where I could not believe how big and ugly uncoordinated and terribly dressed I felt but continued to dance my way into a better mood :) we drove back to Costa Mesa and spend the wee morning helping RQ with song selection for his February cabaret show. That was fun! (How did I learn so much?) Two hours of sleep and we having breakfast in L.A. at Cafe du Village in Larchmont and I get my second ass kickin' in 24 hours.

D. asks me what the hell am I doing with my life, why am I not finishing my recital? Why am I letting myself get so distracted with other people's drama that I complete forget myself? I frustrate her with all my talent and potential going for naught. And why am I not working out? Why am I letting Uranian, who's obviously not ready to seriously be in a relationship with ANYBODY rule my life? And if he really picked you, IS HE GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU TO PICK HIM?

She wouldn't entertain my bullshit. Ah, that's what good friends are for. Focus, focus. My workouts, my recital. I gave her date of when I'm going to finish it before -- St. Patrick's Day -- so I can MOVE ON with my life. And how did she start this?

"Who is Madley?"

And I realized my first three definitions of myself were the same ones in a quiz I took in a Psychology class in 1979: I'm Filipino. I'm fat. I'm a girl.

Wow. What a surprise that was... that THAT is how I define myself right now. It was eye-opening and sad all at the same time, and I changed that right away... after a few tears.

And when it came to my money issues: "How do you expect to get ahead?"

Shock: I've never HAD an expectation to get ahead! Not one fiber of my being ever expected to "get ahead." No wonder I'm so fucking poor! Quick, I change that too.

We go back to her hotel, meet up with her sister and niece and relax before they go to dinner/airport and I go home to catch back up with my life. MY life. Not mine and Uranian's, MINE.

Thank God.