Two Choices, Not Three

I'm in San Francisco again this week on business. I flew United on Saturday morning. For some inexplicable reason, my original flight at 6:45AM was cancelled, and I got bumped to the 8:55AM flight. No one seemed to have any idea why my original flight was cancelled. I was like "You shouldn't call yourselves United! You guys don't seem to be "United" in your information."

The flight was nice. I slept and watched some DVDs of Arrested Development and House, my new favorite shows. Towards the end of our flight we were offered a snack. The choices were "Chicken & Fruit" or "Fruit & Cheese." The flight attendant went down the aisle and got to me. I chose the Chicken & Fruit and was given my plate pretty quicly. Then I could hear the flight attendant ask the person behind me. "Would you like Chicken & Fruit or Fruit & Cheese?" The guy behind me replied, "Can I get Chicken & Cheese?" "Um, I'm sorry, sir. We can't mix the plates," the flight attendant told the disappointed passenger.

On her way back to the galley, I rolled my eyes with the flight attendant. I heard her tell another flight attendant "Some guy just asked for Chicken AND Cheese!"

Some people can be so difficult.

Eye Exam

I picked up my contacts today from my eye doctor. I had had an eye exam a few weeks ago with Dr. M.C. at Studio Optix. I kind of like getting eye exams. First, they're pretty non-invasive except for that weird puff-of-air test for glaucoma. Secondly, there's no sense of apprehension for me unlike going to the dentist or a regular doctor. I don't have any serious problems with my eyes, despite my habit of sticking things in my eye. Also, it's kind of fun for me to talk to doctors about health issues because it makes me feel smart and knowledgable throwing out eye doctor jargon like "base curve" and "astigmatic". Maybe it's also nostalgia for me too, since I grew up in a family of doctors.

My eye exam was pretty routine. This was my first time visiting this eye doctor since my old one doesn't take my new insurance. When I walked in, I saw like 100 pictures of celebrities posing with my doctor. Oh, he's one of THOSE doctors. Leave it to me to find THE eye doctor of Manhattan, apparently. Although most of his pictures must have been taken like 20 years ago. Think Julia Roberts from Mystic Pizza or Leonardo DiCaprio from Growing Pains. It's like, get some new pictures, DOCTOR!

My doctor asked me how my contacts feel and asked me whether I get dry eyes a lot. Not really, I replied and then explained how I've been buying these contacts for the last 6 years because at the time when I got contacts for the first time, only one company made contacts that fit my eye, specifically my base curve. I have a very high numerical base curve (9.5) meaning that my eye, or my eyeball rather, is pretty flat. I always told people that with some weird sense of pride because I liked the idea of special contacts just for me. Well, apparently another company now makes contacts in my prescription with my base curve. I tried them out and then went ahead and ordered a year's supply since these new ones felt good and I was running out anyway. Dr. M.C. actually gave me an extra two pairs for free because I had waited patiently for 45 minutes for my appointment since they were running behind schedule.

After the main part of exam was over, my doctor asked me if I wanted to take a peripheral vision test. Hmmm, I'd have to pay an extra $15 for this since my insurance doesn't cover it, and I was sure my peripheral vision was fine. But then I thought what the hell, I'll do it. I had already gotten the puff of air test, a vision test, and my pupils dialated. I might as well go all out while I'm here.

Clearly, I had forgotten what the peripheral vision test was. The doctor's assistant brought me over to a table, and I see this weird contraption that looked like a cross between a computer and an individual movie screen. Then my heart started palpitating. Oh my god. This was THAT test. Crap. This was that very same test that I had failed when I was 16, getting my first driver's license. I remember it vividly. I was at the DMV, which by the way, growing up in Virginia, I thought stood for Drivers & Motors of Virginia. Then when I left for college in Pennsylvania, I was like "Wow, you guys call it DMV too."

Anyway, that day I was all excited about getting my first license. I was so close to getting that little plastic card. I had passed the written and driving test and all I had to do was do this little peripheral vision test where I was supposed to see blinking lights to my right and to my left and press a button when I saw them. Well, this will be a piece of cake, I thought to myself. I peered into the little viewing goggles and waited...and waited...and waited. Um, where are the lights? The DMV woman asked "Do you see anything?" I answered, "No, what am I supposed to see?" My dad looked in the thing and so did the woman, and they both asked "You don't see the lights???" "What lights?," I replied.

Well, I never saw those damn lights, and to this day I think that machine was broken or something. I had to go to an eye doctor after my embarrassing test failure and me panicking that I had degenerative eyes, and get a special note saying that my peripheral vision was fine, which it really was. Maybe I did see the lights, but I didn't know they were actually the lights I was looking for, if that makes any sense. So when I got my second ever peripheral vision test with Dr. M.C., flashbacks of my traumatic experience as a 16 year old flashed back in my head. Luckily it turned out this test was a little different. This test turned out to be more like an arcade game, like Space Invaders or something. All these blinking dark bars flashed all over the screen--to my left, to my right, up, down, etc and I pressed this little joystick thing whenever I saw them.

This time I passed with flying colors. Whew. Another traumatic experience avoided.

I'm Still Here!

Don't worry. I haven't given up on this blog. I've just been busy (and tired) ever since Thanksgiving. I'll have some new entries soon. Actually, probably later today!

Rocks

On Sunday, I visited the Museum of Natural History and had a nice time there. I got to see the dinosaurs which I don't see how anyone could not get excited about. But my favorite thing was the Hall of Minerals and Gems. I got to see all kinds of rocks and it reminded of what I used to do when I was kid.

When I grew up in my first house in Charlottesville, Virginia, we had a dirt hill in between our house and our neighbor's house. Everyday after school, I'd call up my neighbor and we'd go play after school on the hill. We'd take our toy Matchbox cars and roll them on the hill. We'd also bury them and then look for them the next day like buried treasure. The hill was pretty gnarled and had lots of rocks with a few trees and prickly bushes here and there. I was convinced that there was some sort of buried treasure there. One time I took a branch and dowsed for water. I'd walk around with a tree branch and close my eyes hoping to feel tug at my branch. I also "mined" for gold, but found nothing. Another time, I dug a great big hole because I was looking for oil. I had images that black ooze would come shooting up in the air like in the movies.

Obviously, I found nothing, but I did come across a lot of quartz and other rocks. As I got older and learned more in science class, I hunted for the rocks that I had learned about in class. I didn't really find much, but thinking about those times at the museum on Sunday brought a smile to my face. I guess, looking back the hill wasn't so long. I think actually now there's a house on top of the hill. It sure does seem like a long time ago now--back when I was a Virginia boy, and before I became the hard urbanite New Yorker that I am now.

Water, Water

This morning I woke up and went to my bathroom to shower, and get ready for work. I turned on the cold water knob in my sink and then the hot water knob. I accidently turned the hot water too much, and water was pouring out and splashed all over my t shirt. I reached for the hot water knob and turned it lower, but the water wasn't stopping. Oh great, I thought to myself. So idiot that I am, I turned the knob the other way and hot water came GUSHING out. I frantically tried to turn the knob off but it wasn't turning off! It was coming out so fast that the drain couldn't keep up. As the sink filled quickly, my eyes grew wider. Images of a flooded bathroom started to flash through my head as the water began to flow out of the sink and on to the counter. I ran to my kitchen and grabbed a mixing bowl and started to empty the water into my bathtub. But I didn't get a big enough bowl and my efforts weren't doing much good at stopping the flood.

I went to get a bigger bowl and grabbed my phone as I ran back to my bathroom. Now we were getting somewhere. My new bowl was working much better as a flood-emptying vessel. But I still had Niagara Falls coming out of my faucet and I couldn't just stand there doing that for the rest of my day. I called downstairs and told my doorman "Can you send someone up here? I have an emergency. My hot water won't turn off!"

The building maintenance guys came up pretty quickly. They looked under my sink but didn't see a valve to shut the water off. I was a little insulted. I know how to look for a valve underneath a sink! I'm not that helpless. One of the guys ran downstairs to see if he could shut it off from the basement. There was a flurry of activity and walkie-talkie discussions. Meanwhile, I just stood there to the background watching them and having my coffee.

Eventually one of the guys was able to turn the center of the hot water knob with his screwdriver and the waterfall reduced to a trickle making my apartment relatively quiet again. Then the guy who went downstairs came back and explained to me that somehow I had broken the valve down in the basement. How I did that, I have no idea. But now the hot water would have to be shut off for the ENTIRE building for the rest of the day. Oh my god. I was so embarrassed. I could picture a sign in the lobby: "Because of Terence, the building does not have hot water today."

I then left for work. Later on in the day, I got a call from the super saying that everything had been fixed, but I'd have to buy a new faucet or just never use hot water at my bathroom sink ever again. That obviously wasn't going to work. I hate washing my hands in cold water. It feels so unhygenic.

So now I have to buy a faucet. This is kind of exciting. I've never really bought any home improvement fixtures like faucets or sconces or appliances or anything like that. There are so many choices for faucets! I had a hard time making up my mind between a two knob or a single handle faucet. Like my friend said, I like the look of two knobs, but I like the functionality of one handle. I also didn't want a faucet with a really short spout. My pet peeve is having to wash hands where you have to touch the sink to get any water on your hands. Another friend of mine said he likes Hansgrohe, but I wasn't too crazy about them. I also looked at Kohler, but I ended up buying a faucet from American Standard. I did end up getting a faucet with one handle and it happens to be the one that my friend said he liked. I didn't want to spend a ton of money considering that I hope i'll be moving out of this apartment in 2 years or so, but it was kind of cool to play homeowner and do stuff like this. I feel so grown up.

Pandemics

Last week, the good folks at New York Magazine published an "Apocalypse Handbook." I suppose no one really thought that New York Magazine was trying to do a public service. They are trying to sell issues, after all. But it was in a guise as a helpful guide to what one would do in the event of a major disaster. Well this "helpful" guide got me in a panic. The article quoted experts who said NY officials are constantly "reactive" and don't anticipate and make the appropriate preparations for any sort of major calamity that could happen in the city. Then the guide went through a variety of scenarios--Smallpox, Hurricane, Nuclear Plant Explosion, Chemical Spill, Earthquake...you name it. For some of the scenarios, the outcome was fairly optimistic, but for most of the scenarios, you could kiss your ass good bye.

The inspiration of this article was the growing fear of an avian-flu pandemic. The article was disturbingly very vivid in how an innocent traveler from Hong Kong could create an avian-flu pandemic. I hadn't really been following the avian flu story, but I sure did now. I was asking everyone I knew, "So, are you worried about the bird flu?"

That same evening last week when I was reading the article, I went to a good-bye party for someone leaving my old work. It was good to see everyone and I had fun. Towards the end of the party, a plate of fried chicken that someone had ordered came out. Well, I hadn't eaten dinner and I grabbed a piece. So there I was with my chicken leg and talking all about the bird flu. I was like "Yeah, I'm really worried about this bird flu," chomp, chomp. "It's really scary." Chomp, chomp.

Clearly, I forgot what I was eating when I was trying to do my act of public service.

For Some Laughs...

Check out this video of two Korean Girls singing and dancing. It's hilarious.

And I kind of wish I knew the name of that song. Even though I don't understand a word of it, it's kinda catchy.

Check out the Chinese boys too. Although, I don't think they're as good as the Korean girls, they're pretty funny too. They kind of got me on a Backstreet Boys kick now on my iPod.

Party Hard

Everyday, as I leave my apartment for work, I walk by a public playground. There are also a couple of basketball courts and an asphault area where kids play baseball and kickball (actually I've never seen kickball; do kids still play that?). I guess there's a school nearby because I often see kids playing there during the day having recess. On Monday though, I left my apartment around 8AM that morning and saw some kids having a Halloween party. They looked pretty cute and some had some pretty elaborate costumes. As I walked by the festivities, I thought to myself, "Man, kids party early these days." I remember when I was in school, I cringed--and still do--whenever I had to wake up before 10AM. I can't even fathom going to a Halloween party at 8AM, no matter what age I am.

So as you can imagine, I LOVE my extra hour. Daylight Savings Day is the best holiday of the year, and this year was doubly great because I completely forgot about it. It was a much welcomed surprise. I remember waking up on Sunday around 7:30AM and thinking "Wow. Check me out. I'm up early today." Then someone texted me and I'm thinking again "Wow. Everyone's up so early today." So I was feeling pretty good and then I saw one of my clocks that doesn't automatically change for Daylight Savings, and the light bulb clicked in my head. "AHHH. Daylight Savings." The rest of the day and actually this whole week, I felt so rested. I went to the gym and then went down to the Village and walked around a bit and stopped by Jefferson Market to buy a ham because ever since I saw this recipe for a Ham Baked in Coca-Cola, I've been dying to try it. I went to Jefferson because I was so utterly confused about my ham situation and I heard that Jefferson Market has a really good meat department. I had no idea what I was supposed to buy. Do I buy smoked, baked, cooked or roasted? Or am I supposed to buy a raw ham? But isn't ham, by definition, cooked? Luckily, the butcher at Jefferson was very nice and clearly knowledgable about the great ham debate and was sympathetic to my lack of knowledge. I made the ham later that night and it was like gastronomic heaven. It was soooo good. I think I wanna make it again.

Anyway, I digress. Thinking of Daylight Savings reminds me of the time when a few years ago, I told a friend of mine that it was Daylight Savings time. It happened on a day when something significant happened to me and so I was calling all my friends to talk about it. And then I'd end the conversation by saying, "Oh, by the way, it's daylight savings." Later that evening, I turn on the TV to watch the Simpsons, and I realized I missed it. Hmmm...what's going on? Then I look at my calendar. Oh crap. Daylight Savings is NEXT weekend. I told everyone that it was THIS weekend. Some of the people I talked to that day, I hadn't heard from in close to a year. So I proceeded to call everyone back, and say "Oh, SORRY. It's not Daylight Savings today." It turned out that virtually everyone I told had not only believed me, but also told all of their friends that it was Daylight Savings. One of my friends said to me that the Mayor was gonna have to go on NY1 and make an annoucement: "It is NOT Daylight Savings. That was just a false rumor spread by Terence C."

Well, here's the solution. We should just gain an hour twice a year, not once.

Hair Trauma

So if there is anything about myself that I get really obsessed about, it's my hair. I'm Asian and I can do just about two things with my hair: 1) make it stick up; or 2) part it. I go for the latter (I part to the right). But styling is another issue. I am forever in search of the perfect hair product. I used to use gel, but I got tired of the wet, "Ross from Friends", crunchy look. So I finally upgraded to pastes, creams and pomades. I soon realized that I need to have at least two or three types of product because the pastes/pomades work better when my hair is close-cropped and short, whereas the creams work best when my hair is longer. In any event, I have yet to find a product that I can depend on all the time. I've had some good runs. For a long time I was using Aveda's Flax Control Paste. At first I thought this would be the only styling product that I would never need. It gave a nice hold, but still left my hair soft. But then my hair started to look limp and flat. Also, I got tired of the incredibly strong smell. It wasn't that unpleasant, and a guy I used to date actually really liked the smell, unlike some Aveda scents that you could choke on. But it was just so STRONG. One time when I was in the gym locker room, a guy told me he recognized the smell of my hair and "guessed" that I used Aveda. I thought maybe he had the nose of a bloodhound, but a couple of other people recognized it too in the strangest of places. Yeah, this stuff has got to go, I thought to myself.

So since then, I've tried everything--Stephen Knoll (also too smelly), Charles Worthington (too greasy), Bumble & Bumble (too shiny looking), Terax (doesn't hold well), Rene Furterer (too "crunchy"), Frederic Fekkai (too girly), Kiehl's (which I'm a big fan of), Davines (too sticky), MOP (was ok, maybe i'll try it again), Aesop (they don't make a pomade), Phyto (no pomade or paste either) and the list goes on and on. You name it, I've probably tried it.

I've also visited my fair share of barbershops and salons. When I first moved to New York, I frequented barber shops including Feature Trim & Chelsea Barber, but I got really tired of the barber just taking the clippers and running with them. The last time I was at a barbershop, I got so nervous about my barber's free will with the clippers that I said, "You know, I don't want my head shaved." Although, I have always wondered how I'd look with a buzz cut. Hmmm....

Then I went to Arrojo Studio of TLC's What Not To Wear fame, but I got so turned off by the wait and the prices there that I decided not to go back. Then I checked out Robert Kree in the West Village, which was decent and although not a bargain, was somewhat reasonably priced for New York at $65. But I just wasn't really wowed by any of the cuts I got there. Robert Kree, though, wasn't a total loss. I found one of my staple hair products that will hopefully continue to be in my medicine cabinet. The Moldit stuff is great. It gives me that matte, texturized look that I'm going for.

It was time for me to go on the hunt once more, and then I found Sam Wong. Sam has a small salon in NoHo on Elizabeth Street after being above the Mercer Hotel for ten years. He only works three days a week and has been cutting hair for a long time and has lots of celebrity clients. I went to him because he's from Hong Kong and I figured he'd know what works and what doesn't work for Asian hair. I was right. He always gives me the best haircuts. And his assistant who gives the scalp and neck massages has magic fingers. So why did I leave? Well, I got tired of paying $100 every 4 or 5 weeks for my haircut .

I then checked out the John Allan Club. John Allan's is an interesting place. They bill themselves as a Gentleman's Club where you can have a beer, play pool, get your shoes shined and get haircuts/manicures from blonde women in little black dresses. You can really feel the testosterone-y ambiance the minute you walk in. For the services, you can either pay a la carte or you can pay an annual membership and get all the haircuts/manicures you want. At $65 for a shampoo/haircut + manicure + hot towel + shoe shine, it's not a bad deal. The women who do the services are all very nice, but there's a definite and amusing hierarchy. When you sit down, you first start chatting with your shampoo girl, and then the manicurist meets you in your haircut chair (or whatever it's called) and chats some more. Finally the Queen arrives, your stylist. The manicurist shuts up while Queen Stylist chats me up.

At any rate, John Allan's was ok, but then the last haircut I got there was TERRIBLE. I actually got it cut again a week later when I was in San Francisco and got a great cut. There I went to a place called Elevation. But I remember looking at their website and seeing "Largest street level salon+cafe in San Francisco." Uhhh....so what? Is that something really to brag about?

Come to think of it, my best haircuts have actually been at places outside of New York. I've gotten great cuts in Toronto, Chicago, Vancouver, and Sydney. Oh in Sydney, I still remember "Mac", this cute Aussie surfer guy who actually lived in New York a few years ago and knew the guy who cut my hair at Arrojo (Nick Arrojo is Australian and hires lots of Aussies.)

So last night I got a haircut at a new place with a funny name, Sergio Limpopo. Overall, I'm very pleased with my cut. I think I'll continue seeing them for a few more visits. I got their name from a friend of mine and was most attracted by the price--$40. The one thing that was annoying was the girl took FOREVER to cut my hair. I think I scared her when I told her that I was visiting her salon for the first time because I hated my last haircut so much at John Allan's. I think she actually tried to look at each individual hair on my head. I thought I was gonna fall asleep. Well, the cut was actually only about an hour, I guess, but still...I thought it was a long time.

As you can see, I've spent a lot of time researching the topic of my hair. The funniest thing is that I've asked for the same cut for the last 14 or 15 years and it really doesn't look that special. Just tapered in the back, short on the sides and top and textured and parted to the right. That shouldn't be that hard to do, right?

Subway Interior Decorating

So this morning I was late to work as usual. With my new job, I tend to work from home in the mornings from about 8-9AM. I really like to work from home. I get to sit at home with my laptop on top of a pillow on my couch. Or I get to lie on my bed with my laptop in front of me all in the comfort of a tshirt and boxers. I always have my iTunes going on and the TV on mute, so I'm paying attention to 3 things at once!

At any rate, today when I got on the "S" Shuttle at Times Square, I entered the slopes of a snowy mountain. Inside the car, snowy mountain wallpaper covered the walls and the seats had been replaced with long cream-colored benches that were supposed to look like a snowy rocky mountain slope. It definitely woke me up this morning. I was wondering what it was all for. Was this something new the MTA was going to do for the holidays? After I sat down, I looked up and realized that in addition to the snowy motif, Eddie Bauer ads were everywhere. OH! I get it now. The new interior decorating was for Eddie Bauer's new Rockefeller Center "Down" Store. I felt very much "in the know" since my comforter happens to be Eddie Bauer.

This got me thinking. The MTA should decorate the insides of the subway more often. How about a Prada one? Or a US Open themed one? That would be so cool, I think.

Another Great Find

So the other day I bought some plastic wrap. I didn't really think about it and just picked up a box at Duane Reade. That night, I opened the carton and pulled out some plastic wrap to cover a bowl of chopped bell peppers and scallions in preparation for an omelette that I was gonna make the next morning. I started to tug at the plastic wrap to cut off a piece when I realized there was no blade. Instead this plastic wrap had an EZ Slide Cutter. Whoa. How come I've never heard of this before? What rock have I been living under? I'm totally enraptured by this. I wish I could think of stuff like this. Now I have nice clean and smooth cuts for my pieces of plastic wrap.

(Sidebar: I have been having this Nigella omelette every day for the past week. It's an omelette with chili & bell peppers, scallions, turmeric, cumin and coriander. Then add some chopped cilantro and drip some Jamaican Pick-a-Pepper sauce, which is sort of like Worcestire sauce and I bought by accident at the store because that's what I thought it was. Finally, roll it up the omelette in a piece of whole wheat lavash bread and eat like a wrap. So good.)

Books

A couple weekends ago, I went to the Great Read In The Park event at Bryant Park. More than 150 authors were doing panel discussions, signings and talks to celebrate the 70th Anniversary of The New York Times Best Sellers List. The event also featured a temporary branch of Barnes & Noble, an appraisals table by Bauman Rare Books and a Used Book Sale. I've been looking for a particular book for the past year, and so I decided to stop by and check out the Used Book Sale here. The book is called Familes: A Memoir and is by Wyatt Cooper, Anderson Cooper's father. I read an interview with Anderson Cooper where he talked about his father's book. It's about his father's upbringing in rural Mississippi and then his subsequent marriage to Gloria Vanderbilt and raising of Anderson and his brother. In his interview with Oprah, Anderson said he really cherished this book because it's like a letter to him from his dad. It's a reminder to him of what his dad was like before he died when Anderson was 10 years old.

I was really touched by this and have been wanting to read this book. I wish I had something like that that would make me feel close to my parents because I'm not close with them at all. My parents were very typical asian parents and made competition an aspect of every part of my life. And although I appreciate what my parents did for me, I still resent to this day the single-minded competitive childhood that my parents instilled in me. There was actually an interesting article in the NY Times about two Korean women who wrote a book advocating this method of raising children that definitely raised my eyebrow, mostly because I don't agree with preaching this child-raising doctrine.

At any rate, I think it would be really great to have something like this to remind you of someone important in your life. Anything written like emails, letters, even text messages often serves that purpose. A simple three word text message can mean so much because it's permanent and pre-meditated and thus is always there to make you feel better if you want to smile.

So I went to the Bryant Park Book Fair hoping to find this book. I've looked everywhere--Strand, used bookstores around the city, online, etc. But I can only find first editions that cost $200+ dollars, and I don't want the book that much. Alas, I couldn't even look for it. The book sale was retarded--you had to buy a tote bag for $25 before being allowed to enter the book sale.

Oh well. I'll keep searching.

James Bond

Today, I was watching Best Week Ever and the topic of discussion was doctors' reports that Hollywood promotes unprotected sex. In particular, the doctor's used James Bond as an example of irresponsible behavior.

In response to this, Sherrod Small said "How are you going to have a responsible James Bond? What? So Dr. No becomes 'Dr. No Means No'?"

I was dying with laughter.

Only The Best

Last night around 9PM, I decided to head out and get a couple of bagels at H&H and pick up some lox and cream cheese at Citarella. I don't know what possessed me to go out last night other than my craving for a yummy H&H bagel because it was MONSOONING last night. It was the type of night where you're like "Screw it. My feet are gonna be soaked, and so who gives a shit." My umbrella kept the top of my head dry, but that's about it. When I got home, I literally could wring the water out of the bottoms of my designer Helmut Lang jeans (my favorite jeans).

Boy do I miss my old umbrella. Right now, I have a cheapie umbrella that I bought at Rite-Aid. It's so cheesy. One of the umbrella panes has the "I Heart NY" logo. I used to have an umbrella that I loved. I bought it at Hammacher Schlemmer. It had lots of features that made it the best umbrella. I loved the shape of it: it had a nice dome shape versus the spread out shape that most umbrellas have. Also, the handle was this nice wooden hook shape, so I could hang it off my arm when I didn't need it, leaving my hands free to hold my magazine and blackberry or just free in general to wave around. But the best part was the little lever that opened and closed the umbrella as opposed to the traditional blade-like thing on most umbrellas.

Over the years, I would come to lose my precious umbrella, but would always promptly buy a replacement. But a year ago, I left the last one of these (my fifth) that I owned on the BART train when going back to SF after visiting my friend in San Mateo. As soon as I got back to my hotel, I realized what I had done. Well, not to worry. I'll just order another one. Or so I thought.

When I got back to my hotel room, I turned on my laptop and went to Hammacher Schlemmer's site (via MPOnline Mall because I'm a frequent-flyer miles junkie) and went to the umbrellas section. It was gone! I searched frantically for my umbrella, but Hammacher decided to stop selling it. Oh my god. I couldn't believe it. What was I going to do? I then started to search Google for my umbrella and found something similar, but it was something like $100. No way was I gonna pay that. I then wrote an email to Hammacher and BEGGED them to bring my umbrella back or tell me the supplier for that umbrella. Well, of course they didn't tell me the supplier, since most stores won't reveal that. But they did tell me of "another" umbrella they sell. I promptly replied, "If I wanted that umbrella, I would have asked about it."

I eventually came to terms with my loss and accepted that I would never find this umbrella again. It was a one-of-a-kind, I figured. Everytime I thought about losing this umbrella, I'd lament its loss. And last night, in that torrential rain (first rain here in NY in a while), I thought about it again. When I got home, I thought to myself "That's it. I've mourned long enough. I need to replace my old umbrella (too bad I never gave my umbrellas names)." After searching and searching, I found it! Well, it wasn't exactly the same, but very close. Neiman Marcus has a version that's very similar called the Gustbuster Classic. Yay! I'm so happy! I'll have to buy a whole case of Gustbusters.

Airplane Seats

Right before I left for San Francisco, I was talking with someone at work about my upcoming flight. I was so happy to be flying United where I'm a Premier Executive member. United is my favorite airline, especially the United P.S. service. The seats are great and you get your own individual personal Panasonic DVD player. Panasonic and the airlines were smart and configured the players to only play specially formatted DVDs so you won't have any real motivation to steal a DVD or the player.

So I was telling my friend all about my upcoming flight and mentioned that I hoped to get a window seat. My friend asked me how I could like window seats. "Because I like to sleep and rest my head against the cabin," I replied. My friend then asked "But don't you get cramped and feel restricted because you can't get out?". I said, "Absolutely not. If I need to get up, I'm getting up." Then I declared, "You know what I would say to that person in the aisle if he has a problem? Next time, get a window seat."

Hmmpf.

Tibetan Stool

Last night, I went to the movies with a friend and saw Just Like Heaven because my friend is head over heels in love with Mark Ruffalo. Unfortunately, Mark Ruffalo doesn't really do anything for me, but the movie was sweet and fun anyway. And I always like Reese Witherspoon.

After the movie, I went over to my friend's place for a slice of carrot cake. Her mom had baked a carrot cake and my friend took some home with her. So we were eating cake and just hanging out and chatting when my friend took out a chair. I looked at it and gave a surprised look of recognition. Oh my god, it's my Tibetan Stool! I bought my Tibetan Stool three years ago at Pottery Barn, and I love it. Granted, I don't use it for really anything, least of all sitting on it, but I think it looks so cool. I wish I could find a picture of it, but apparently Pottery Barn doesn't sell this item anymore.

I had never known anyone else who also had the Tibetan Stool, but it was nice to see that someone else shared my taste. Not that no one else ever shops at Pottery Barn. Although, I have to say that I prefer Crate & Barrel, and my apartment looks like p. 17 of the catalog. One time, I was walking with another friend when I was out in California. We passed a Tibetan store, and I saw an exact "replica" of my stool! Wow, there it is! I told my friend, "Well, mine is much better and more authentic. It's the real thing. It's from Pottery Barn."

Saks

I went to Saks during my lunch break because I wanted to pick up something at the Kiehl's counter. I also wanted to check out the Fall Collections of some of my favorite designers.

Well, they've really spruced up Saks. My preferred store is Barneys. I always thought Saks was a distant also-ran and held no flame against either Barneys or Bergdorfs. But when I walked into Saks today, I was thoroughly impressed. The store seemed organized and the store management definitely upped the ante in the calibre of their brands. And overall the store seemed much more cohesive and logical in its presentation. They got rid of all the haphazard displays and put different brands together that made sense.

I saw a green zip-up cashmere pullover from Tse that I was itching to buy. It was so nice. It was a nice deep green color with a little bit of cable pattern. But I've really been trying to cut back on my spending.

I left the store with no purchases, not even anything from Kiehls. Wow, leaving Saks with no shopping bags in hand. How strong am I?

I'll be back...

I've been feeling so blah for the past week or so, and I can't seem to shake it. I promise I'll be back soon with some more fun blog entries.

No Broken Arm, No Opinion

Tomorrow, I have another X-ray scheduled for my arm. I hope I can finally stop wearing my splint and can start lifting weights again. My range of motion has improved a lot, but the bone is still broken.

Of the many comments of sympathy and amazement people said to me, the most irritating had to have been "I don't think you needed surgery. You should have gotten a second opinion." I'm thinking, "Hey. You weren't there!"

At least now I'm part of the broken bone club, and won't say stupid things like that.

Too Bad I Can't Get Paid To Do This

I'm back at work now, having missed the last two days due to my throat infection. It's very disturbing to me how good I am at doing absolutely nothing. My two days off consisted of sleeping, chatting online with a few friends, getting the mail (but only on one day), and watching Food Network and the National Geographic Channel. I did step out to see my doctor on Monday, so I at least got a little bit of light. It takes great skill to do nothing with so much purpose.

This reminds me of the weekend I spent a couple of weeks ago before I headed up to San Francisco with a friend of mine from college out in San Mateo where he lives. Except that weekend, we had xBox. I'm honestly too scared to get one on my own because it'll make me even more of a social hermit than I am now. Although, for a while, I was trying to think of a way I could pass off an xBox as physical therapy so I could spend my FlexSpend dollars on it. At any rate, doses of xBox are just fine, but my friend and I played Xbox ALL weekend. Well, we did get a chance to visit the Stanford Mall, and while it's a very nice mall, their Neiman Marcus, at least the Mens section, is a sorry excuse for a Neiman Marcus. It reminded of the Neiman Marcus in Tampa, which I've been to many times on my tennis training trips down there. We also spent a very boring hour at Jiffy Lube and then the Infiniti dealership trying in vain to figure out why a light was flashing in his dashboard. Turned out my friend left his gas cap off, which by the way though led us to a discussion of whether someone had clandestinely siphoned his gas because my friend swore he would never leave the gas cap off.

But the rest of the time, we played xBox. It's so much fun to play against someone else. And me and my friend played TopSpin for hours. Well, I, at least, at one point, went out for a run, while my friend napped.

So I guess looking back, me and my friend actually did do a fair amount compared to my last two days home sick from work. Wow, I guess really doing nothing can actually be challenging. It's an art.