Well, M and I just returned from southern California a few hours ago. It was a really nice mini-vacation, even though we ran out of time and couldn't do all of the things we wanted (the story of our lives). The purpose of the trip was to see my cousin Hoo's play - the one she designed all the costumes for. I was totally impressed.

The play is called Dionysus 2001, a series of short Greek tragedies followed by one satyr... all with a modern twist. The costumes, makeup, and hair were very futuristic and the music consisted of sultry heavy rock. It was brilliant.

Every time I see Hoo's designs, I tell her I'll pay her to design my wardrobe. She's extremely talented. M and I think she'll be the famous family member everyone brags about.

Before M arrived (I arrived a day earlier because he had to work on Friday), Hoo and I spent the day hanging out together. We got a wild hair and decided to get a pedicure and manicure at the local beauty college. Bad idea. We both had our own horror story to tell.

The girl who did my nails was very young (17?) and looked like she was a heavy drug user (extremely thin, with dry matted hair). I knew it was probably a bad idea as soon as I saw her own hands: chipped black nail polish with horrendous-looking cuticles and lots of hangnails. It started off badly when she said they ran out of cotton balls, so she took my clear fingernail polish off with one of those brown bathroom paper towels! Then, she soaked my hands for less than 5 seconds each and admitted she didn't know what the nail brush was for. Worst of all, she caked the polish on. This caused the polish to bubble and made drying difficult. To her credit, though, she did use a bottom and top coat (which is more than Hoo got).

The pedicure turned out better than the manicure, but on my right foot there are a couple toe nails with 1/8 of the polish missing (she obviously didn't have attention to detail while she was slathering it on).

Possibly the worst part of the scenario is that she seemed actually proud of her work. She asked me when she was finished if I liked my nails. I said, "yes, it's a very pretty color." (I didn't feel justified complaining about a $9 pedicure, $5 manicure.) Then I asked her if the instructor was going to come by and check her work and she said, "no, they don't monitor the pedicures or manicures." No wonder! This poor girl was going to continue to do shoddy work without knowing how bad she really was.

Hoo, on the other hand, had her own story, which involved the girl not using base or top coats (for red polish, which is a major no-no!) and not cutting her jagged badly-in-need-of-trimming toe nails. Shockingly, she just happily painted over the claws thinking that she was doing the right thing.

Well, at least we had a good laugh about the whole sorry experience later. And we have a good story to tell. I'm going to remove the nail polish soon, though. It's already chipping at the tips.

I also showed M around Orange county, pointing out all the places I used to live and work. And which restaurants I frequented. Unfortunately, we ran out of time and I couldn't show him one ex-workplace, in San Clemente.

It was a good trip but, as usual, it's good to be back home. Speaking of which, I still haven't gotten "home", per se. I'm still at M's house. He'll probably drive me home shortly. He's currently engrossed in the television.

We didn't go camping in Angel Island last weekend. Both of us were as sick as dogs and besides, the weather left much to be desired. The camping trip was unfortunately scheduled on the weekend of nonstop thunder showers and hail storms (and snow in the hills nearby).

I'm still trying to recover from this heinous cold. It started as a head cold then moved into my chest. Last Wednesday was by far the worst day of the virus' work, so I took most of the day off work (important meeting be damned, unfortunately) and went to the doctor. I didn't appreciate wheezing and gasping for breath in the middle of sentences!

Now I just have an annoying wet cough and a plugged up nasal voice. Oh, and a sore throat at night due to the "drainage". Sometimes the phlegm gets caught in the back of my throat and I feel like I'll suffocate. It's so thick I can't swallow it down. Hmmm, maybe some things are best left unsaid. ;)

Viruses are sneaky little monsters. I know from my Ecology 101 ("the evolution of viruses") class that I took one quarter at UC Davis that the cold virus is the most successful, highly evolved virus in the world. This is because it goes from host to host without killing itself off (i.e. killing the host).

I just got done filling out one of those email "get to know your friends" questionaires. You know the ones. You've probably received several different variations. Anyway, the one I just filled out asked if I had any tattoos. I currently don't have one, but I sometimes do toy with the idea of getting one. Something small, somewhere inconspicuous. I think a fleur-de-lis would be incredibly beautiful, don't you? Or a paisley. I'm all about paisley (well, I mean... not in clothing. At least not since the mid-eighties).

(Side note: Long ago, my cousin Hoo and I used to call paisley "plaisley". Don't ask me why. We both did this unknowing that the other also did it! We also used to call chimneys "chimineys". Odd, I know.)

I also recently finished reading "The Tao of Pooh" by Benjamin Hoff. Everyone should be required to read it because it's Very Wise. Plus, it's easy reading: I read the entire book over the course of a few days during my 40-minute (both way) train commute. You won't be sorry. You'll probably learn something very valuable about yourself.

I'm tired. No wonder; it's now one in the morning. Thank heavens I don't have to work tomorrow because it's President's Day. Whoohoooo! I'd better get to work on my beauty sleep. ;)

Time to sign off. Ciao!

p.s. Toe nail color of the month: metallic golden-based reddish brown (courtesy of the beauty college)