Xanax For Sale

After work yesterday, I sheepishly made my return to Midcity Cafe after giving them a horrible Yelp review.  Of course, my main complaint was the length of time it took to get food, and this was a drinks-only engagement while meeting a new friend.  HELLO GRANT!  YOU'RE ON MY BLOG NOW! WHAT DO YOU THINK?

I had to run to another engagement, this time dinner at Spice.  I used to love Spice, but then it got ho-hum blah.  However, last night's dinner was excellent and I'm sure it had a lot to do with their new chef, Marvin Woods (yeah yeah, the guy from TV).  Let's just say I had the filet mignon with black truffle au jus that was to die for... yum.  They're getting ready to close for a bit while renovating, so if you're interested I'd suggest you scurry on over quickly.

Tomorrow I fly home for a long weekend of family and friend events. 

My mom is throwing my sister's baby soiree.  The Chinese say it's unlucky to throw a shower before the baby arrives, so Jordin's little party will take place this Sunday at one of the restaurants in the hotel where we're staying.  Also, as a little pre-birthday treat from mom, we're doing a few days at their Canyon Ranch Spa, which is perfect since it will be all rain and muck outside due to the stupid hurricane.  Have I mentioned that I love my mommy?

I'll also get to see my girls and we'll have dinner and a night out on the town on Sunday.  It's been a while, and I'm ready to paint the town red.

If you asked me what I think my best feature is, I'd probably say my sense of humor, sarcastic wit, or ability write my name with my feet.  If you asked someone else, they'd probably say my hair. 

Little do they know what this hair has been through.  From the moment I was born, my mother burst into tears thinking that her daughter would forever be bald.  I finally grew some by the time I was 2, but when I turned 3 it hit its peak and has not stopped growing since.  Unfortunately, the road to good hair was a bumpy one.  I mean, it sort of was inevitable since my mom was the only Chinese woman I've ever seen with an afro ON PURPOSE.   

There were perms, bangs, bad dye jobs, and general unruliness going on for a long time.  I tried every hair product in vain (and sometimes in tragedy) in order to look like whatever was cute or current in Sassy or cool and hip in the later years.  At my 10 year reunion, I begged the question to just about everyone:  "Where was my hair intervention?  Hello?  I thought you people were my friends!"  But then I realized we all had hair issues (except you, Therese Kirsch, and your long blonde gorgeousness that apparently does not cease).

Finally, after all those years, I've realized that it doesn't take a lot of work to make myself look a little less like an asshole.  Some shampoo, a $12 haircut, and a Chi flatiron (from your little sister who apparently knows much more about hair) will do.  THANK THE BABY JESUS.

Behold, 13 years of bad hair (click for set):

I stayed up way past my bedtime on Thursday, late enough to allow the chaos of Friday's workday to leave me frazzled in my already delicate state.  I had a million and one things to do that night, and driving back and forth across town took a lot out of me.  On the verge of a panic attack, I threw myself into my new therapist's office (about 10 minutes late).  The session went very well, though, and instead of climbing into my car and calling it a night, I was able to manage the rest of the obligations of the evening.

The session touched on a bunch of different things, but what he really emphasized was that I've not allowed myself to say "no" enough.  Whether I agree to things to please others, to avoid guilt, to satisfy some sort of made up obligation, etc., I often end up agreeing to do many things I either don't want to do or (even more regretably) can't.  I guess I've conjured up these horrific visions of possible responses to me saying 'no' to someone.  Would they be angry?  Disappointed?  Frustrated?  Would they love me or leave me?  Since I've rarely excercised that option (or when I'm unsuccessful at avoiding the question altogether), I'm usually the one left resentful of the situation or just utterly exhausted, and now I realize that I've lost a little bit of my self every time I say that dreaded 'yes.' 

A plus to finally letting myself say 'no' is actually being able to say 'yes' to more things I'd rather be doing.  I said yes to spending a lot of time with a good friend this weekend, and I loved every minute of it.  I didn't have to be on display or act any differently, and I wasn't obligated to do anything.  In fact, I finally felt energized enough to do something.  And one of the most amazing things about knowing someone is the delicate layers revealed  through trust, realizing how much you have in common and the fascinating newness of other things.  I guess it's safe to say that I'm much happier for saying 'yes' this time.

No one's picking up the phone. Guess it's clear he's gone.
And this little masochist is lifting up her dress.
Guess I thought I could never feel things I feel and,
Hey Jupiter, nothing's been the same.
So are you gay, are you blue?
Thought we both could use a friend to run to.
Hey Jupiter, nothing's been the same.
So are you safe, now we're through.
Thought we both could use a friend to run to.