Children: to have or not to have?

Lately, marriage and children has been on the mind a bit. Unsure about the trigger event.

Before I begin, here's an little peek into my mental life: I constantly mull over conversations I've had with people or articles I've read. And they pop into my head randomly. This is what I do when I'm bored. Hence conversations are an integral fuel source for my mind.

Anyway, So sitting in the car with Luis and thoughts about children came up. There are two factors that will affect my decision to have biological children:
1. The almost universal cultural expectation for women to have children.
2. The need to pass on my genes.
Between the two, I think the first presents a bigger barrier to a decision to not have kids. By default, if a couple has children, people will accept and be happy for them. Eventually, the parents themselves, even if reluctant at first, will come to accept and be thankful for the child. Social expectations help with that and the fact that humans are quite adept at adapting. On the other hand, if a couple/woman chooses to not have children, if seems like they owe most people an explanation as to why. So much judgment.

The latter is easier to overcome. Yes, I'm intelligent, but there are others. Who am I amongst Earth's almost 7 billion people to really say I'm unique enough to warrant passing on my genes? Honestly, I don't care enough about that. Doppelgangers.

This doesn't mean I don't want to have kids. I would like to adopt kids with intelligence within normal range. Not international because I've heard that it can cost about $30K. It feels dirty, like I'm buying a child. Probably domestic. There are plenty of kids here who needs help, why go abroad? Suffering is the same no matter where one goes.

Dog beach

This weekend saw a rise in temperature which made Saturday a mandatory beach day. Took Butters and met John, Lauren and Mona there. The dogs loved it. They chased each other around and round. And Butters learned to leap over water puddles.

So far, I've been to Fiesta Island and OB. Between the two, I love the latter so much more, even though parking can be such a bitch. I love the channel where water is calmer and clearer. In addition, during low tide, I never know what kind of wildlife I might find. Just today, Luis and I found quite a few schools of little fish (I wonder if they are baby fish. Wish we had a wildlife biologist with us to tell us what they are.), a crab, and three hermit crabs. The crab was 4-5 in wide. It had blue legs or whatever the appropriate name is for them and interestingly the back legs were covered by green algae. It waved its big claws at us above the water. Since it issued a challenge, I had to accept and baited it with my flip flops. I was hoping that it will clamp the sandal and I'll be able to lift it out of the water. Dinner perhaps? J/k. Only a little. The hermit crabs we found by following their trails underwater. It was like a little treasure hunt.

Anyway, each time, I'm incredibly thankful for Butters. Because of him, I go to the beach on average about once every two weeks. And I enjoy it. So wonderful and relaxing to be there seeing him happy and excited. He's always nice and tired afterwards as well. 

Oh, and on the way to Luis' friends' home, we, as in Luis, Butters, and I, pulled off a family pack howling session in the car. It was awesome. 

Wrangling a concession

Day off.

Was listening to NPR around midday to a show about commonly confused words. Here's something I learned from that:

Wrangle/wangle

Wrangle: The cowboys wrangled with the goats to herd them into corrals. (oh you mean they herd steers?)
Wangle: Wangling concessions/agreement out of someone

I always thought one wrangles concessions out of someone. It sounds like hard work, getting a concession. But no, to "wangle" means "to achieve through manipulative and deceitful methods."

It was odd for me because I've honestly never heard of "wangle." Maybe it's because my eyes might see "wangle" and my brain reads "wrangle." Or, even if it registered, I might've seen it as a typo. Now I'm going to be on the lookout for it.

Getting lost

I think the gene for orienting oneself according to the cardinal directions reside on the Y chromosome. I certainly can't (read can't) figure it out unless it's glaringly obvious like the sun rising or setting on east-west axis. Then, I can find East or West. Tell me North or South, I'll have to think about it.

All that to excuse myself for being 20 minutes late for getting to the Chula Vista branch for my 1st day there. I even gave myself 15 extra minutes leaving home. I got off the freeway and turned left instead of right. For some reason, I left that important detail off the directions I wrote down. It wasn't until things started looking pretty rural that I called Luis and asked him to look at the map for me.

I still would've been on time, if I found parking and the branch with no problem. Parking, had to drive beyond all the spaces marked with a three hour limit. Fine. It wasn't that hard. Then when I came out of the structure, I had no idea where things were. I walked out to the streets and couldn't find any recognizable landmarks (which is how I figure out where I am.) So I started walking. As I continued, it dawned upon me that this whole block is a shopping plaza. In the end, when I finally found the entrance to the CU, I realized that I started at the opposite end of the block! Think of the block as a rectangle with sides 1 and 2, 1 being the length and 2, the width. I started at the middle of 2, walked along 1, and ended at the other 2. I'm not even going to go into details about how I had to walk up and down stairs trying to find the actual entrance to the CU from where I entered from a side door on 1.

The whole time, I knew I was pretty late. I didn't even both looking at my cell phone for time. Such bad luck. I was late to the interview and late to my supposedly "home" branch. However, the manager was super nice. She figured that I couldn't find the place and had me clock in at 10:30 anyway despite my arrival at 10:51.

Lesson of it all? I need to get a Thomas Guide.

And no, I will not get a GPS.

Worried, worry, worrying (sounds like some sort of burrowing animal)

Luis lost his job, for extremely trivial reasons. For once in his life, he got on someone who matters' bad side. The story has been told so many times that I will not retell it here and now.

He went in today after a five-day suspension to find out if he still has his job. When he didn't call at 1:10, I knew he was fired. Otherwise he would've gotten his badge and been on the floor and let me know that he's working.

The entire weekend was filled with uncertainty. What course of action do we take? What results do we want to see? When it finally happened, like most other things in life, it was rather anti-climatic.

He's filing for unemployment and will take the opportunity to work on his business. This, compared to other options seem to be the best. Who knows? Everything might work out well.

I wish I had more confidence in his ability to assess situations. I am an optimistic person, but can be harshly realistic when I need to be. I feel like he can't. He's extremely optimistic. When things don't happen according to plan, he doesn't know why nor has a backup. This is a huge worry for me. Yet, when I tried bringing it up, he said nothing, literally, leaving me not knowing if it registered with him at all. When I brought it up again, he spouted his plans for the next few days, but nothing to reassure me of the big picture. This doesn't help. I need evidence that he's thinking hard about it on how to make it work.

Maybe it's just me. I like having a safety net, which admittedly he will have in the form on unemployment. I play things safer than maybe what is necessary for a business to start and succeed or fail. The issue here is less about his plans than my needing reassurances that he's really thinking about it instead of going along with what he thinks everyone around him expects him to do. 

Who knows if writing about this here will help or hurt?

1st day of in-branch training & Weekend

Thank You for all the colorful people who gives us our daily entertainment.


A man who threatened to shoot the delivery man who might deliver fraudulently purchased items paid COD. Another whom I scared with a story of people unconsciously swallowing spiders during sleep. He had to leave and come back when he regained his composure. He's very nice though.

I think I'm going to like it there. I have time to make small talk with customers. Referrals doesn't seem to be that hard at all. And secretly, I think I count faster because I count in Chinese. I am going to make an awesome teller there.

Weekend:
Was so excited for the weekend on Friday, and then I woke up on Saturday. My week-long crick in the neck has turned in full-blown debilitating pain in the neck, literally. I did some minor errands and found shifting hurts, turning my neck to look in both of my blindspots hurt. I laid down in bed, and any action that required support from my head hurts. It's only when a part of the body is not working do we realize just how important it is. This muscle apparently is involved in lifting arm, any part of 360 degree rotation of head, any time my torso/body deviates from the vertical, it helps to support the head.

Got some Icy Hot which helped to numb the pain a bit. While I relaxed, Luis and I watched The Butterfly Effect. Didn't like the story much because a few key elements didn't feel natural. However, I understand the lesson they are trying to convey. You can control your own actions but not others.

On Sunday, Luis and I went to Orange to visit the Torreses. Baby Gaby looks like her father. Kacie is so awesome a mother. I really admire her patience and devotion. Had a wonderful dinner with their family. It's so great that everyone gets together to eat dinner on Sundays.

New place

My hatred of moving escalates each time I move. How do we accumulate all this stuff in our lives? I never think it's all that much stuff, yet it always becomes truckload after truckload of just STUFF. Kitchen: fridge, pantry, utensils, dishes, pots and pans. Closets: stuff and clothes. Bedding. Books. Stuff on desks. How can I whittle STUFF down?

Anyway, the studio is finally starting to feel like home. Like it's mine. I remember the days after my brother and Grant left. With the apartment disfigured by the absence of Grant's stuff, and our things being packed, the quiet of just me, I felt homeless, alone. Home wasn't home. And the new place was not home. I worried that there won't be a "yet" after that last sentence.

Now our little family has settled in. Of course, there are still some persistent boxes that insists upon sitting there unpacked, but we've already entertained, meaning things are at least presentable.

And that makes me happy.

Day at shelter

Had my orientation at the shelter the other week with a mentor. She introduced me and took me through most of the procedures. At the end of the day, we took two dogs out for a walk, chosen based on the number of days since their last walk. I picked two little white dogs that looked like Butters. I'll admit it, because of him, I'll always have a soft spot for dogs that look like him.

Both were very excited when we walked in, whining and barking in that little dog voice. The first one I walked was only interested in marking. Three feet, stretch leg up as high as it can go, mark. Walk two feet, mark. Walk, mark. When we sat down for a bit, he finally sat down next to me and calmed down.

One thing stuck in my mind after orientation was that sometimes these dogs really need quiet time more than anything else. The kennels are a high stress environment as the dogs don't pick their neighbors and people constantly walk through the rooms. They really don't have time to sleep, like most dogs do when owners aren't home.

It amazed me to see that in action. Even the second dog I walked did the exact same thing. I liked him from the start. As soon as he reached the end of the leash and felt it pull, he turned around, looked at me, and slowed down. The poor guy seems a bit wary of people and easily startled.

Next to the two poodle mixes was a pitbull whom I loved right away. While the terriers were creating an uproar in the ward, he did not bark at all. He simply sat wagging his tail happily, waiting. No barking, no jumping. Just unreserved happiness and hope (fine, the last part might be anthropomorphizing).

Being there made me very happy to be able to help them but also sadness. What were their stories? Will they find happy homes?

I've confessed in the past that I have an obsession with reading the pets section on CL. Today, after checking the shelter website to see whether Scout the wonderful pitbull is still there (he is), I just couldn't go through the pets section like I normally do, especially while with Butters sleeping with his back pressed up against me. Too many people giving away/rehoming/selling their pets. All these innocent animals who've already bonded with their humans only to be ripped away from them (even if they are going to a good home, they'll still feel the separation) without warning. Most of the time, it's not even their fault. Makes me sad and frustrated at the our irresponsibility.