Last night, in another anticlimactic moment, I bought the laptop. I'm hoping it will change my life. That's not too much to expect from an $1800 purchase, is it?

My roommate, Joe, bought a condo. He's moving out close to the end of March.

If you know anyone who might be interested in taking the master bedroom in my apartment in San Mateo, please let me know.

There's a particular feeling that I had many months ago that I want to have right now. The funny thing is, the longing for that feeling is almost as satisfying.

Isn't that how it always is?

28 years, and I never bothered to remember how many days there are in each month of the year.

I know there are 31 in October, December, January, and there are 28 days in February in a non-leap year. But that's about the extent of my certainty. Let me go consult my calendar...

You'd think that the number of days per each month is an important, significant, and reliable enough lump of information for me to have committed to my memory by now.

On Friday, I had an interesting yet disturbing talk with coworker Doug after we went out to lunch. Somehow it popped out that during the period of time last year when I was noticeably curt and standoff-ish toward him, he thought I was acting that way because I was romantically attracted to him and was upset at him for not going after me or returning my feelings. He said coworker John thought the same.

Whoa. WTF? What were they smoking?? I mean, not only was I completely NOT attracted to Doug at that time, but the main reason I was standoff-ish in the first place was that I thought he was the one who was attracted to me... and I was trying to discourage him from becoming more interested in me so he'd back off. (That, and I was very annoyed by being bugged by people at my desk while I was "working".)

I was actually upset that I felt I had to be that way. I don't like coming across as a worse person than I am. And now I know that I was mean, rude, and avoidant for nothing, because... if John hadn't kept on hinting to me that Doug was after me, I wouldn't have felt like I had to resort to those measures... and if John hadn't told Doug he thought I might be interested, Doug might've never imagined that I was bitter toward him because my feelings for him were unrequited.

So basically, evil conniving little John tried to set the two of us up, despite the fact that I'd expressed my sincere disinterest in Doug that way many a time. But Doug and I both now realize that married John was and is desperately seeking spice and drama and would jump at any opportunity to vicariously live through his non-married friends. We forgive him. We're scheming to convince him that the receptionist secretly has the hots for him.

Luckily, a few months after my mean/rude/avoidant stint, I loosened up about a few things in my life... and I opened up to the possibility of making and maintaining friends at the office to help the medicine go down. I got to know Doug much better and discovered that he's refreshingly unique and intriguing, and wildly fun to talk to... which can't be said about most of the other people I work and play with. At that point, having him as a friend was unquestionably worth more than the risk of him coming after me for more than a platonic friendship. Seriously, there are only a few people with whom I'd rather talk to as regularly, freely, openly, and honestly.

Anyhow, I was under the impression that Doug and I have a special deep meaningful platonic friendship that transcends age and race and is based on a mutual admiration and a rare connection between two creative-bent and similarly quirky people seeking like-minded company within a world of geeks and technology... until Friday. Now I can't help but wonder... what was really going on in Doug's mind? Had he only been a wonderful friend to me because he believed I was romantically attracted to him? How did that belief influence what he said and did around me? Did he really think I'm as uncool as to react bitterly toward someone who doesn't return my amorous feelings? Was he actually interested in pursuing a non-platonic relaitonship with me at some point? And how much of that is the reason we're good friends now? Does it matter?

He told me on Friday at lunch, before we had our chat about the above, that he just got engaged for the first time in his 42 years on Valentine's Day. WOW. (That was quick.) I'm very happy for him! His life changes every second, every minute, every year, and I like that. I hope mine is as dynamic when I'm 42. But the way he told me about his engagement smacks of... well, he seemed to be trying to let me down easy, as if he thought I would be hurt somehow. How utterly wrong. I really really really never really ever wanted him that way!

I guess the main reason I'm disturbed is that it feels like a blow to my pride... him erroneously thinking that I was a woman scorned and perhaps taking pity on me and trying to make things right by becoming one of my good friends. Yeah, that bothers me. But I'll get over it soon. Soon I will see it as just a silly little production written and directed by John for all of our laughs.

'Course, I still like Doug a lot as a friend, and hope that the fact that I was never attracted to him more than a friend doesn't devalue our friendship in his mind. He's a grown-up. He's gotta be more mature than I am. A damn 42 years mature!

The whole process of choosing and buying a new Dell laptop is excrutiating. (Maybe even moreso right now 'cuz it's PMS week for me.) I simply go to the Dell website, and I'm already frustrated.

I'm probably going to get the D600. After spec'ing it out for my needs and wants, the total cost is around $1800... which I'm not at all happy about. I was prepared to spend around $1400, and no more.

It might take me many more days to accept that price or accept a lesser laptop. I thought I was already going with a relatively bare-bones machine. But what do I really know about these things? I've asked Babe for help in figuring out a configuration that's best for me and my budget. And I've been waiting for special offers to land in my inbox. They expire before I can make a decision whether to buy or wait for a better deal. It's a bitch.

I think I'm still not ready to spend such a big amount of money on anything. The most I've ever spent on a material good is the $700 I spent on the bed. That was a seriously painful purchase, but I've been raving about that bed since.

Why couldn't I have been a trust fund kid?

Have you ever caught me in the middle of editing?

I almost forgot. There was a strike five: not bringing the camera so the girl can have something by which to remember an immemorable night. I'm big on taking pictures, and I made a resolution to take a lot more this year. So far, I haven't done so well on that resolution.

I'm back to putting premium gas in my car. I tried using middle-grade gas for three tanks. Wasn't acceptable. There was a lot more engine noise, grittiness, a lack of smoothness, and lower mileage by about 20 miles. I thought I'd try to save at least $50 a year on gas, but that idea's been squashed.

We went to a Linkin Park concert last night. It was intense. My lower back still hurts a little.

I like Linkin Park's sounds. Robust, exciting, aggressive, and ironically soothing. But I've never had a taste for their lyrics. Way too can-you-kill-me-now, full of despair, and self-defeating. The lyrics turned me off to their music in the past. Not that I can remember them all. I made up most of the stuff I screamed at the concert, much to the dismay of the poor people whose ears were millimeters away from my mouth. So yeah, read the lyrics to all of their songs one of these days, but call me before you go off yourself.

Sunday night we played poker at George's with the usuals. P Club 7. I lost about $50 in January, playing at least once a week. My game's been slipping. I've been playing mainly just to hang out. I'll be playing for awhile, so I'll try to get my head back in the game.

Last weekend, after snowboarding at Alpine Meadows, we stayed overnight in Reno. I wanted to play poker at the casinos again, since it was fun playing in Vegas. But I knew that I wasn't in any condition to play that weekend. $50 in one month is a wake-up call. That $50 could've gone into my new handbag fund. I'm considering something from Coach.

Sunday during the day, Jeanne and I went to get facials in SF Chinatown. I hadn't gone to get one in a long while. Years maybe. This time, I paid $5 extra for the neck and shoulder massage. $5 was a steal. I'd have paid an extra $10 for what I got. And there was a noticeable improvement in the appearance and texture of my skin for more than one day after. So I'm probably going to start getting these facials regularly. Especially since I can't get Brazilian waxes anymore. Must get my self-maintaining pampering in one way or another.

Saturday night, we... we... I'm drawing a blank... What did we do? Oh. My bad... Saturday was Valentine's Day. I was thrown off by the 3-day weekend.

Friday night, we went out to dinner and to the bowling alley for two friends' birthdays. I hurt my lower back while bowling. I hurt it again at the aforementioned concert. I really need to put some muscles back in there.

I decided to let Babe make the Valentine's Day plans this year. I'd done most of the planning in previous relationships, and I'm plenty ready to sit back and be romanced for a change. Babe and I didn't go on any real dates together before we hooked up and got together, and I bought him a suit this past Christmas so that he wouldn't have "I have nothing fancy to wear" as an excuse for not taking me out.

Yesterday, Babe called me about 45 minutes before we were supposed to head up to Ruth's Chris Steak House, to say that his only pair of dress shoes don't go with his new suit. Strike one: not trying on the outfit before the event. After some deliberation, he decided to wear the shoes with the suit instead of dressing down. So I got fancied-up to match. My only pair of semi-dressy shoes didn't go well with my whole outfit either.

When I arrived at Babe's, I hit my head on the trunk door latch while getting something out of the car. Oh, what a sting! I saw stars for a couple of seconds. In my stunned state, I almost called Babe from right outside his place to tell him I'd been injured and couldn't make it.

I managed to stumble upstairs to his apartment, and he greeted me at the door with "hello". Strike two: not telling the girl she looks mighty nice in her fancy dress and face within minutes of beholding her in all her glory. (Stike two and a half: rarely ever telling the girl he likes the way she looks.) Before we hurried out, I checked out my forehead and saw a big bump and a bit of blood. Luckily, I've been parting my hair over that area since last month.

There were a few tense moments at the restaurant when the people-seater-people (what these people are called temporarily escapes me) couldn't immediately find the reservation Babe made three weeks prior. They leafed through a couple of binders before finding it on a list of a bunch of names and credit card numbers. Get computerized already! Well, the food more than made up for this near snafu.

I hadn't eaten at Ruth's Chris before. Probably the best steak I've ever had in my life. Ribeye. I don't do fillet anymore. I don't do prime rib anymore. Not after this latest ribeye and the one I got last weekend in Reno at Ruby River Steak House, which is another excellent place for steak.

On our way home at a stoplight, Babe spotted a man in the car to his left being serviced by his female passenger. How that may or may not have affected me and/or him and our activities within the following hour, I may never know...

Babe told me in advance, before I gave him his Valentine's Day gifts, that he hadn't had time to write in card for me. Strike three. I suggested we exchange gifts the next day instead, to give him time to finish getting it all together... to which he responded that the card was also the gift-holder.

So we exchanged gifts after Babe hastily wrote an unsentimental message in the card. He got his first pair of silk boxers and a gift certificate for a massage at International Orange. And I got a check for $150. Strike four (yes I know there is no strike four in baseball). I figure the only women who get checks or cash for love on Valentine's Day are prostitutes.

But actually, I appreciate the check a lot. Babe specified that it's to be used specifically towards the new the laptop I'm going to get in the near future. This month, hopefully.

I let him walk, despite all the strikes. Hell, I even let him score. 'Cuz though he didn't give me a romantic Valentine's Day, I do believe he's still the best friend/lover/boyfriend combo for me. It would be silly to think that the minimal effort he put into this Valentine's Day is inidicative of the amount of effort he puts into the whole relationship... wouldn't it?

We capped off this unromantic night with Bowling for Columbine. It was thought-provoking. Made me consider living in Canada for a couple of minutes. Nah... I'd totally hate it there.

100 Years - Five for Fighting

I got another work contract extension for three months. Come May, I'll be able to say I've been dating this position for three years. Pass May, and I'll surpass the length of my longest boyfriend relationship ever.

I've managed to make a few friends among the non-engineers here at the Fremont office. They keep me smiling and connecting with other human beings when I most need it, during the drudgery of the workweek. We're in our 20s, 30s, and 40s, and they're all guys (unsurprisingly), but that doesn't seem to get in the way of relating and acting downright silly sometimes, as necessary. We've already made plans for the four of us to go on a wild, MTV-Road-Rules-inspired road trip, form a rock band, start our own novel reality shows, open up a restaurant (cafe/soup kitchen/massage parlour), buy a four-bedroom condo with our pooled savings.

Doug was out all day Tuesday running errands, and I feared he'd quit or gotten fired. The next day I told him he should tell me years in advance before he quits, so I can be prepared for the emotional repercussions of losing a coworker-friend. He gave me his year's notice, and I gave him mine. We plan to be out of here in a year... in a month... in weeks... so many plans...

My latest plan is to look more seriously into becoming a technical writer. It's possibly the least amount of stretch from what I'm doing right now at work. Writing, for which I have both love and hate, might just turn into the hand that feeds me. I'd like to stay in the IT industry and keep a desk job. I loathe the day when I'm not able to spend at least 8 hours a day on the internet and on IM.

At the same time, I might not mind going on all-expenses-paid business trips every now and then. Never been on one. It's quite possible that I don't go on a single one in my life. Babe's on one now. He satisfies me like no other man before him could. I don't envy him for getting to spend three days in Minnesota. I'm just jealous that he has more opportunities to drink than I do.

I've thought about trying sales, since sales skills seem to have great value in both professional and personal life. And I'd have a higher chance of travelling on the job. A couple of weeks ago, I happened to mention my interest in sales to a friend, who quickly invited me out to a NAAAP meeting. The NAAAP committee she's in solicits sponsorships from companies in the Bay Area for a convention in August. I attended only one meeting.

It's hard to give up my time for something that I'm not truly jazzed about, even if it could give me sales experience and a higher quality network. If NAAAP was an organization aiding underprivileged kids, I'd be much more interested in taking time out of my TiVo schedule to volunteer. Asian American issues. Pass...

Speaking of kids and time... Yesterday, one of my coworkers asked me to come visit his little girl, Shruti, who he says has been asking about me (I can't help being suspicious). I said I couldn't do it this week, but maybe next week. Maybe never. This wasn't the first time he invited me over. How does one say no to this kind of request? If I go, I'll just open myself up to being invited over again and again. And though the kid is cute, I'm really not that interested. I don't have room in my heart for privileged kids, and I have a whole season of 24 to watch...

Nice. An article about tollbooth people ("toll taker" seems to be the official title) that answers some of my questions about them... but doesn't explain how this guy was able to let me pass through without paying and not get in trouble.

Show me men in g-strings cooking and serving up chocolate-covered delicacies.

Men got the Lingerie Bowl. And all the exploitative Superbowl commercials I had to grin and bear on Sunday.

The world that is the United States of America seems to me to be taking brisk steps backwards in terms of attitudes toward women and the portrayal of women. Sexism, misogynism, women-as-sex-object-ism are on the rise. The reputation of women is being brought down more than ever. Please tell me it's just my imagination.

How quickly can the average man, woman, and child find an image of a nearly naked woman these days? Mere seconds. Billboards, magazines, TV shows, internet sites, you name it. Physically and emotionally exposed women are touted everywhere. Men are getting more of what they want out of women (and the reverse is not happening at all). Women are getting shafted with an increasingly bigger shaft, and no one seems to be doing anything about it.

You've noticed that the corporate media is becoming more and more unbashedly indecent. But who would try to stop it? Men are having the time of their lives; it's never been better to be a man. They're not going to do anything about it. Women just CAN'T do anything about it. They're weak, voiceless, powerless, and physically attractive in the buff (we can't help noticing).

It all sells. There are bucks to be made. And at the end of the day, the men have all the money. They have it all. Money. Power. Penises. How hard would it be to topple the man-power that currently exists and is growing? I think very. Seems like, with increasing technological and scientific advancements, men just gain even more power and money.

Who is going to fight for the women?

Well, don't expect the women to save the women. A lot of us, some of us, opt to just take it like a man. Let the men be men. Go for trophy status instead. Be the cool, chummy, tolerant girlfriend/wife that your man's guy friends lust after and wish they had. Why become a feminist spokesperson slash pontificating martyr slash scornful brunt-of-jokes? It'll get you no love, no sex, no catcalls, no free drinks...

Isn't it easier to just be anorexic, get plastic surgery, spend all your time, money, and energy on becoming a man's ideal to be able to have a little bit of that power? What other power is there for women? There are the few "empowered" women, women who've got the goods to sell to horny market, who are actually just exploiting themselves... and goddamnit, they're crippling the rest of us.

I'm torn. Exploit myself for a fleeting bit of power and a lot of attention (become a stripper?)... or suck it up, accept the shaft, respect the shaft, and learn to fucking love it? Or would I be better off starting a movement, jumping off a cliff, becoming a lesbian?

I guess the most I could ever hope to do is raise my sons well so they don't become lewd misogynists, sexists, etc. And yet, odds still have them succumbing to the wiles of the media. They will read seemingly harmless magazines, like Maxim, and watch seemingly harmless TV shows, like Wild On, until they're numb in nuts and brain. They will continue to boner-up on blonde teenage girls dancing dirty in music videos when they've become old men ODing on Cialis. They can't help it. They've got money, power, and penises. And all I've got is this stupid blog.

I don't think we've even seen the worst of it yet. With not much in the way to stop it, I predict it get worse into the century. It will take a grand and marvelous revolution of some kind to crush it. Something like a spiritual revolution... which is not something I'm particularly hoping for. America and the world just seem to be heading in that direction too. A huge revolution, or something like the Rennaissance, will be due by the end of the century. And then, maybe after that, we could finally have our Star Trek world.

But I'll be long since dead by then, and I won't be around to say I told you so.