Z: I was just reading your blog
Z: and giggling at your stupid idealism
I don’t know what he’s referring to. There’s no idealism here. I keep it real.

The tree planting went well yesterday morning, though that was the hardest planting so far. Who knew digging mud was so hard? Two volunteers got their shoes stuck in the mud and I have a genuine pair of vintage jeans. Most of the volunteers were workers from Intel who were halfway forced (I’m assuming) to come because they got an e-mail from their boss who apparently supports our tree planting efforts. In addition to the satisfaction of looking at all the trees afterwards, I usually meet really interesting, not always quirky or peculiar, sometimes just very normal people, but nonetheless interesting people at the plantings. I met Sue, a nice Chinese woman, yesterday, these two 12-year olds who talked incessantly and thought all the boys at their school were dumb last Saturday, an overly eccentric asian woman who was called Mama and owned geese at another planting.. Thanks A for coming, I am glad you had the chance to assert your masculinity with that axe.

Last night was spent with M, K and S, trying to fish in the windy rain. You see, rain isn’t bad by itself, it minds its own business and just heads one direction, down. It’s only when it’s with that wind that it becomes unpredictable and scattered. Maybe this is another metaphor and we’re the rain waiting for that wind. The rest of the day was spent with N and that’s always enjoyable.

PS. I think I need to get another job. I don’t know I’ve gotten this far with expenses towards almost weekly shopping sprees, gas for my car, my gym membership, domain expenses, expresso, etc.

PPS. When I say “vintage jeans”, I mean, my pair of jeans that are crusted with mud, poking fun at the whole concept of “vintage jeans”.

Just forwarding this on. I’ll be there on Saturday if any of you would like to come and help.

Saturday, February 24, 9:00 AM – noon
Blackford School Planting 14 Trees
Meeting Location: 1970 Willow St. San Jose, 95125
We need 1-2 Tree Amigos and 20 volunteers.

Yesterday, since my mum was feeling under the weather, I drove her to Valley Fair. When she got in my car and looked around, she saw my two pairs of Keds covered in dirt. Then, the conversation goes as follows:

“Are those your shoes?”
“Yes.. they are in my car, aren’t they?”
“Was it from volunteering?” (After I quit my job and decided to be a Tree Amigo instead, she asked me if I was getting paid and then called me dumb basically.)
“Yes..”
“Why do you do such dirty work, Millie? Why can’t you just get a job again? A clean job.”

She doesn’t appreciate my efforts.

I’m definitely a morning person and I am definitely all for dream intrepretation. “Whenever you suppress your feelings throughout the day, it has a very good chance of showing up in your dream. For example, if you wanted to express your anger toward someone and then refrain from doing so, then your suppressed anger may show up in your dream in some symbolic form.”

Not that that has any significance to my dream last night, but I thought I’d share anyway. Last night, I dreamt that I walked into Barnes & Noble during a Café meeting, which were my favorite when I used to work there. The product they were trying was this raspberry cheesecake looking pie with lots of whipped cream. I think I’m going into B&N today to check to see if this product actually exists or if I just concocted some fabulous dessert.

By the way, REM is the last and deepest stage of your sleep and is the one you usually dream in. Look, this is like “Millie factoid of the day”. You come to snoop and you get a fact!

PS. To whom it may concern, I am only dating you for your extensive vocabulary. Nothing else.

PPS. To everyone, I am so technologically handicapped right now. I have a beat-up Powerbook, a cell phone with a broken screen, a faulty iPod and a non-existent camera.

Apparently watching TV or surfing the Web right before bed tires you out, not that I’m contesting it. “That light from the screen shuts down the production of melatonin, the chemical that helps us sleep,” says Joyce Walsleben, Ph.D., associate professor of medicine at New York University.

Arbor Day is April 27th this year, just an fyi. (Isn’t it funny that we/I naturally write ‘an fyi’ because it’s pronounced ‘an EFF-Y-EYE’ so technically it begins with a vowel?)

I hate writing after a lapse, everything seems so pale in comparison (to past works, I mean). And, where did the inquisitive side of me wander off to? Or is that inquisition in itself? Silly!

Happy Birthday to Z and A.

I’ve watched every episode of Sex and the City at least twice, maybe thrice. So, now I’m watching every episode with commentary. On a Sunday morning, 9 a.m.

“Senator John McCain had told me that when he watched that scene where Petrosky and his friends are all speaking in French and Carrie is just sitting there and the French rap music keeps getting louder, he thought ‘Bring on, Big!’ and I said ‘Okay, Mr. Senator’”

Quality over quantity and content over aesthetics. Okay wait, I take that back. I want a lot of the pretty, good stuff. But you’ll have to wait for the pretty. K called my blog subpar and ugly the other day and I smiled.

I just got back from my first tree planting as a Tree Amigo.. There’s something about this green polo that makes me tingle inside. Anyway, I am really starting up an Arbor Club at our school once we come back from winter break. Look for a schoolwide tree planting sometime before June, hopefully in April or early May. I need a prospective members list.

Aside from the eco-friendly crap, I am living a fruitful life and I suppose I feel like I need to share the fruits of my labor somehow. I was listening to NPR this morning while driving to the planting and this guy said, “Sometimes, I’ll go into solitude and hide away and refill my glass. Once I come back and see the people I love, I’ll have something to share because I want to be able to give them sometime.” Okay, so that was heavily paraphrased, but the general idea behind that is what I was aiming for.

Exploring the concept of expectations (by the way, this will probably all make sense come June and everyone will revel in the clairvoyance), I am expecting to finish this paper on Jane Austen’s use of names by 10:00 A.M., ideally; but rather, I’m sitting here at some bustling Starbucks clumsily trying to control my left foot as to not let it tragically slip into the puddle of spilt milk, as warned by a nice woman passerby.

Random acts of kindness are not to be undermined.

Another woman with her two cute children, her daughter is wearing an obnoxious pink ribbon in her hair and her son is grasping onto his milk, just cautioned me about the spilt milk. I’m sitting right in front of the door, not to mention under this pesky air conditioning that is blowing what feels like cold air (may I remind you it is the morning and there was fog while I was driving), when this rather husky guy, probably in his early twenties, wearing a blue apron from I am not sure where just dashed into the store to return another woman’s credit card that was left behind. She graciously thanked him and smiled and in all gratitude asked, “Thank you! Do you want some coffee?” The guy, who was just being hospitable, replied, “Oh you’re welcome, no thank you, I don’t even like coffee,” then smiled and hurried back to his job.

Man, M wasn’t kidding when she said this week was National Random Acts of Kindness week. Coincidentally, during lunch the other day with E, we were talking about America and how it is generally friendlier and more hospitable than other countries.

I feel miserable. I just peeled myself out of bed after laying there for an hour thinking about how miserable I was. Thank goodness. I am cleaning and re-reading old letters, paper and electronic. Thanks JA and JT for all the cards and thoughts throughout the years. Though, I still never found out who sent the green square card postmarked from Portland, ME reading “Nothings spoils peanut butter like unrequited love. -Charlie Brown” from Magpie, titled “Just a bit of utter randomness.” The great mysteries of life.