Category Archives: More About Me

See ya.

Well, I’m done. This blog has run its course. It got to be more of a burden (har har) than something I wanted to spend time doing. I had all sorts of things I wanted to write about and couldn’t. I’d worry what people I knew IRL would think. I have SO many completed yet unpublished posts, it’s not even funny. I suppose this has essentially become a private journal, so I might as well take it offline.

I hate when bloggers say shit like, “I’m leaving but I might be back so keep checking.” Or “I’m going to take a break, and may or may not be back.” So I am telling you now, I am leaving. And won’t be back. I never back down from my decisions. I’m pretty much done with Burden of Thought anyways. I don’t feel as burdened with thoughts as I used to be before I was a mom. Now I can’t stand people who think too much.

So what’s next? I’m not sure. The next thing will be either a completely public blog or a completely private one. None of this half-assed shit.

I’ll be removing some of my posts or maybe all, I haven’t decided yet. In the meantime, I’d love to keep in touch with whoever wants to keep in touch with me. You can email me at burdenofthought at gmail dot com.

Thanks everyone, it’s been fun. I’ve met some really great people through this blog, and for that I’m grateful. I hope to “meet” more of you one day.

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The Death of Cecil the Cat

We’ve finally moved! Yay! I thought we would never close escrow. But we finally did last week, and have been moving little by little since then. One more round trip and we’ll be done! Now I have to unpack and organize…before AJ’s sister and family arrive in less than 2 weeks.

So, I really should be working on that right now instead of reading through my old journals and English assignments. Actually, I skimmed the journals because teenage me is really quite embarrassing and I can’t read them without cringing.

But I had fun reading my creative writing assignments, and I thought I would share one with you all. This was written at the age of 12, and the assignment was to write a poem in the style of The Wreck of the Hesperus by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. (It’s funnier if you are familiar with this poem.) Everyone had to read their poems out loud. The class then voted on a winner, and I won. Here it is in all its glory (re-reading it today, that “the” in the last stanza was bothering me so I crossed it out):

I was a morbid kid.

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Completely unreasonable

For some reason I feel a twinge of jealousy whenever a friend tells me that she is pregnant.

Even though I myself was once pregnant and carried the baby (my younger son) to term.

Even though I do not want a third child.

It’s like a carry-over or something, from my past struggle with infertility.

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lessons in friendship

When I was in junior high, I met the girl who would be my best friend for most of my formative years. I was extremely shy, but I would see her around campus surrounded by friends, always smiling and happy, and wished I was as confident as she seemed to be. In the 8th grade, her PE locker was next to mine and she would say hi and make small talk. At first I was too shy to respond much, but she was so nice and friendly that before long, I got over it and we became friends.

At some point, we started to identify each other as best friends. But for some reason, she held part of herself back from me, and that made me jealous of any of her time and attention that was not given to me. For example, I would ask if she wanted to hang out after school, but she would say she needed to study. Then the next day I would find out that she spent the evening hanging out with another friend. I’d get angry, but she would explain it was because the other girl was her neighbor, and I lived so far away (a 20-minute drive).

She would pull stunts like that on me all the time, and it drove me crazy. I was forever writing long, angst filled notes to her about how I thought we were best friends, that she needed to make more of an effort, and we would eventually make up and then the cycle would begin again.

It was just a really odd friendship where we were always walking on eggshells around each other all the time. I’d never had a best friend before her, and I didn’t know what it was supposed to BE like. At the same time, I was coming out of my shell and making a lot of new friends, the type of friends where I could say whatever I wanted and be completely myself around them. It wasn’t that my best friend was against self expression or anything like that…because she couldn’t be herself around me, either. Looking back I think we were just two completely different people, and that I shouldn’t have kept trying to force this “best friendship” on the two of us.

After we went to separate universities, it became even harder to keep up the relationship. But I tenaciously held on, convinced that our friendship would overcome any obstacles standing in our way. She grew increasingly distant, prompting ever more forlorn letters from me, asking why didn’t she return my phone calls, why didn’t she ever write to me? All of my (true) close friends would ask why was I still friends with her if she made me feel that way. I don’t even know if I had a satisfactory answer for that.

The breaking point came after my first year as a consultant. I was living it up, making good money, and enjoying life. We still called each other best friend, but I was getting more and more exasperated with her self righteousness and not-so-subtle disapproval of my lifestyle (she wasn’t into drinking and clubbing). After one too many phone calls where I felt like I was talking to the air, I’d had enough. I sat down and wrote the most vicious email I’ve ever written before or since. I was feeling really hurt by her treatment of me and wanted to hurt her back. Without even thinking about it, I sent it off. I immediately regretted it, but there was no way to take it back.

I called her, we cried, I apologized profusely, and she said it was OK and that we were still friends. But over the next few days and weeks, I realized it was not OK. Whereas she was merely distant before, she began to actively avoid me – not difficult when we lived hundreds of miles away from each other. Finally, I wrote another email – “what’s wrong? I thought you said you had forgiven me.” Her response was slow in coming, but it was the final nail in the coffin. She realized, after thinking about it a lot, that she couldn’t be friends with me anymore. My letter was so hateful and so unwarranted, that she could no longer trust me not to hurt her like that again. She said maybe we could be friends again one day, but for now she wanted to keep her distance.

We haven’t been friends since. That was 10 years ago. About a year after she first stopped talking to me, she wrote me a letter to explain why she had to take a break from me. She admitted in the letter that she was jealous of my success and that she had consciously given up on our friendship years before (without telling me) because she thought I didn’t “need” her anymore. She said she was in a bad place and just couldn’t handle the stress of our relationship at that time. Yet the letter was sort of opened ended…I read it 100 times and couldn’t tell whether it was an attempt to become friends again or not. In the end, I felt more annoyed than happy, especially at the idea that she had deliberately pulled back from me while I was making so much effort to maintain our friendship. I dashed off a scathing letter to her saying that if the situation had been reversed, I would never have stopped being her friend, or some such nonsense. She didn’t respond. A few months later, I felt bad and wrote another, more mature letter, but she didn’t respond to that either. About 3 years ago, I wrote one last time…. and again got no response. So yeah…. that’s about as dead as anything can get.

I still think about her quite often. I wonder how she is doing, whether she ever thinks of me.

But I learned from this friendship how to be a real friend, and how to pick real friends. I’ve learned not to be as crazy demanding as I used to be. I’ve learned to be very discerning in choosing a good friend. I AM still a demanding friend, but within reason, and I try to give as good as I get and better. I mostly have only very high quality friends now.

And I learned that friendships do have limits. And that once you cross a line, you can never go back.

I’m now experiencing the death of another friendship. This time, I’m the one who is choosing to withdraw my friendship from somebody else. It has made me think of my best friend of my youth and wonder if this is how she felt when she chose to end her friendship with me.

It’s been an emotional week for me. I guess I jinxed myself.

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opportunities

Growing up, I was kind of shy and self-conscious, and thus held myself back a lot from doing things. It could be anything from making a new friend to playing a team sport. I preferred to do solitary things to prevent making a fool of myself, such as reading or playing computer games.

After college, my friend P and I went to Hawaii. At some point during the trip, I decided to go to a ukulele store to buy one for my brother, who is a musician. The young man in the store was super cute and kept flirting with me. After we left, his eyes followed me out the store and down the street (I only know this because P told me). She kept trying to convince me we needed to go back to the store and ask him about the nightlife (with the hope that he would invite us to go party with him and his friends). But I was too chicken, so I didn’t.

A couple of days later, we were in a tour bus taking in the sights, and P struck up a conversation with an elderly couple next to us. At one point she mentioned that we went to a luau, and they asked to see the tourist photo from the luau. (If you’ve been to Hawaii, you know what I am talking about. Before seating you at the luau, they pose you with two scantily clad dreamboats – one man, one woman. Then you have the option to buy the photo afterward. P and I both came out nice in the photo, so we decided to buy it.) So P took out our photo to show the elderly couple. The husband took one look at the photo, turned to me, and said, “I guess you are someone who doesn’t take advantage of all your opportunities.” I looked at the photo and realized what he was referring to. Most female tourists at the luau were all over the muscular and hunky young man while taking the photo. I, on the other hand, was standing a good foot away from him.

During the rest of our trip, I reflected on that comment. Although he was joking and only referring to the photo, I realized that yes, I was a person who did not take advantage of my opportunities. I only tried for things if I knew I would succeed. Everything I had, up until that point, had been handed to me. Even my job as a consultant, which was an amazing opportunity, was practically handed to me on a platter. It was during the days of the dot-com boom when consulting companies were snatching up college graduates left and right, and I happened to know a guy who was good friends with a manager at one of the best companies. It was practically a slam dunk.

So I made up my mind that I would try to take more risks. Since meeting AJ, it’s gotten easier, because we take the risks together, and we’ll still be together if we fall. Almost three years ago, we took a risk and moved up to the Bay area for a job opportunity for AJ that we didn’t know would succeed or not. It did, and now a new opportunity has come up, and we’re on the brink of taking another huge risk. I’m not trying to be coy, but I can’t talk too much about it right now. Suffice to say that it will happen within a year. Then I’ll let it all out.

I leave you now with a couple of great quotes about taking risks:

The only person who never makes mistakes is the person who never does anything. — Denis Waitley

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. — Mark Twain

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the age of experimentation

So one of my friends read my love and friendship post and said that when she read the part where I first noticed E, she thought I was trying to say I was gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that). WTF? First of all, this is someone that knew me in my boy crazy days. Secondly, a girl can say another girl is hot, can’t she? So now I have to write about something that will really make my friend question my sexuality.

During my 4th year of college, I rented a 2-bedroom apartment with 3 other girls, two girls per room. I shared my room with another Asian girl, let’s call her Katie. She was a friend of a friend, and was introduced to us when we needed a 4th roommate. Katie and I hit it off and we stayed up late many nights talking about everything. She was cute and smart, but seemed to always get into relationships where the guy just used her for booty calls (AJ would probably say that she had daddy issues).

At that time, I had a boyfriend. VK and I had met my first year in the dorms, and we got together at the beginning of my 3rd year. It was a good relationship but was based more on camaraderie than passion. We both acknowledged that we wanted to date around more before settling down, but ended up being together for almost 3 years.

Anyways, the first few months of living with Katie were great. We shared our boy stories with each other. We talked about sex a lot, as girls will do. Finally, we revealed to each other that we’d always been curious about having sex with another girl. (It wasn’t just us, though, right? Everyone gets curious at that age, right?) After that, we would talk about it every so often, and there was always an unspoken “well gee, why don’t WE do it?” I always thought she was cute, but I definitely started to feel attracted to her after that, and I was pretty certain that she was attracted to me.

So there is actually a whole side story here involving a friend of VK named Dave, but that would make this post way too long. Suffice to say that both Katie and I were attracted to Dave, and Dave was attracted to both Katie and me, and Katie and I were attracted to each other. And although no one explicitly said anything, none of that was really a secret between the 3 of us. It was a very confusing time in my life where I questioned myself a lot on whether I really wanted to be in a monogamous relationship. And whether I was bi.

One night, we decided to have a girls’ night out with a few other girl friends, which involved dinner first and then dancing. Katie and I got ready together in our room. Her hair was really cute, she had the Rachel haircut, and she said that she could do the same style on me if I wanted. I agreed and she had me sit down in front of the mirror while she worked on my hair.

DAMN. Maybe it was everything that had been building up between the two of us, or maybe I was ovulating or something, but I was SO freaking turned on the entire time. Is the head/hair an erogenous area or something? I could barely sit still while her hands were in my hair. Also, she was wearing this really sexy dress and she looked fantastic in it. I could tell she was pretty turned on as well. The sexual tension was so thick I can’t believe nothing happened. Maybe if we had been drinking…

Later when we were at the restaurant, a bunch of our guy friends suddenly showed up, including Dave. It turned out that one of our girl friends had told them where we’d be, not realizing they’d try to crash girls’ night. Thankfully, VK was not with them. I was still free for the night! One of the guys, George, who always had a thing for Katie, literally moaned when he saw her. (I only say this to illustrate how hot she looked.) I heard Dave tell Katie that my hair looked really nice. She fondled my head proprietarily and said, “I did that, doesn’t it look good?” Then she added, “And it was a HUGE turn-on, too.” Oh my God, did she really say that out loud? I kept my head turned away and tried to pretend I didn’t hear it, but from the corner of my eye I could see Dave’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. He kept trying to exchange glances with me (since he knew how I felt about her), but I avoided looking at him.

Sadly, there is not much more to report from that night. We went to the club, we danced, we got drunk, Katie and I were all over each other, Dave and I were all over each other, and Dave and Katie were probably all over each other as well. Damn, why did I have to have a boyfriend?! A couple hours later, we migrated from the club to someone’s apartment. Things were just starting to get interesting when for some reason I decided to call VK and tell him where I was. He yelled at me and kept asking why didn’t I call him earlier to join us, since it was no longer “girls’ night”. I sobered up in a flash, had a “what the fuck am I doing?” moment, told everyone I had to leave, and slinked back to VK’s apartment.

Nothing ever happened between me and Katie or me and Dave. Katie and Dave did get together briefly, but he basically just used her for booty calls and said shit about her behind her back (asshole). I stopped talking to him after that. Katie and I had a falling out towards the end of the year and no longer talk either.

I don’t know what would have happened that night if I wasn’t dating VK. But who knows…even if I wasn’t, I might have been too chicken in the end.

This was actually a really difficult post for me to publish. I sat on it for a few days before doing so, because I knew this would probably completely change the image that people who know me IRL have of me. I rationalized it by saying to myself that I am not unique, that many people go through a phase of experimentation, and most likely got WAY further than I did.

Also, I told my friend (from the first paragraph) that I was posting this, and she wants everyone to know that she REALLY didn’t think I was gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that), and that she is cute (she is).

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all for one and one for all

In any story I hear where there is some sort of conflict between a man and a woman, I will almost always side with the woman. The woman has to be completely devoid of humanity before I will side with the man. I am sure many women are the same way, but I know there are also women who will automatically side with the man. This annoys the crap out of me.

I work with a bunch of consultants, and one of them travels from Chicago every Monday through Thursday. He has a 6 month old son. His wife also works, at some high powered corporate job and makes more than him. Since the baby is not yet sleeping through the night, the wife often calls my coworker at 2 in the morning to bitch to him not being there to help her with the baby.

I TOTALLY get this. I get the impulse to do this. I might do the same thing if AJ travelled that much. Fucker wants to travel and be gone every week? Fine, but he’ll suffer if I have to. So this morning when my coworker walked into the project room and started complaining about it again, I was all over his wife’s side.

But my other coworker, a woman in her early 40s, was not. She said she “didn’t get it” and said all righteously that she would NEVER do something like that. She has a 10-month old baby, and I know she always lets her boyfriend sleep through the night and handles the baby herself. Her boyfriend never travels for work, either. She also seems to disapprove of the fact that my coworker’s wife makes him watch the baby on Saturdays while she goes out shopping or gets a massage. Come on, he’s been gone all week, it’s the least he can do.

I’ve noticed this coworker never sides with any woman in any story. I can’t tell if she REALLY doesn’t get it, or if she just wants to seem like she is a cool and laid back woman. It’s super annoying. We get it, you’re laid back. Now show your sisters some love.

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