Thanksgiving

Enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner at Liz’s down in Morgan Hill. Liz is Lynn’s boss from work, and she is a great cook. (For new readers Lynn is my BFF and drinking buddy). We had all the standard Thanksgiving fare – turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. But there was also turkey long rice, pork adobo, lup chong, lumpia, haupia, and a bunch of other filipino food that I can’t remember what it was. Liz is half Filipino and half every other race that has mixed together in Hawaii. She is from Hawaii too – it’s amazing how the Hawaii folks stick together even after relocating to the mainland. Her husband Tom is Jewish, I think from New York.

I brought 2 bottles of red that I thought would go well with Turkey. An '04 Ravenswood Shiraz and an '03 Sokol Blosser Oregon Pinot Noir – nothing extravagant and quite accessible wines (that means even non wine snobs can enjoy them).

Lynn brought her sister Stacey who is visiting from L.A. She’s a really cute kid. She is going to USC getting an advanced degree – masters if I recall correctly - somehow related to medicine. There was quite a crowd of other Hawaii exports there as well. We played a rousing game of "What high-school you went?" It’s a Hawaii thing.

The food, wine, and conversation were all wonderful. Someone brought a DVD of a recent University of Hawaii football home game, they are rarely televised here. This was shown on Tom’s new ginormous plasma TV. I am generally bored by non-participation sports, so I stayed in the kitchen and helped Liz clean up and chatted with Stacey. She didn’t care for the wine I brought, but opted for after dinner white zinfandel. After the game the crowd thinned. Tom, always the generous host, brought out a very nice single malt scotch that he had been given as a gift last Christmas. Tom doesn’t drink – but he knows that I do. It was an Oban, 14 years old, not too peaty, and really smooth and flavorful. I had a couple of glasses, neat.

The party was nearly over with Jim (Lynn's other half), Lynn, Stacey and myself left as the guests. We sat in the family room discussing work, sports, politics, the weather in Mililani and such. As it was time to leave Tom asked if I was OK to drive – although I wasn’t really drunk, the truth was it would have been a bad idea. Jim offered to take me home with him. "We have the guest bed," he said "I don’t think Stacey would mind sharing." I never know what to say to things like that. To be honest, the thought had crossed my mind (was it obvious?), but this wasn’t how I envisioned going about it. I really wanted to look at Stacey, but turned to Lynn instead. She made a slight – almost imperceptible - roll of her eyes. Liz broke an uncomfortable silence by offering me a room. "You’re welcome to stay here, we have plenty of room." They have a 5 bedroom house and there are just the two of them living there. I accepted Liz’s offer and took their guest bed.

Liz and Tom have an amazing relationship. They have been married about 10 years and even from a distance you can tell that it is still fresh. They are genuinely best friends and lovers. I have seen them disagree, but never be disagreeable to each other. Perhaps they save that for when they are alone, I don’t know. If I ever get married I’d like to have a home like theirs.

I woke up a bit before 6:00 on Friday with a pounding headache and a mouth that felt like a rodent had crawled in and slept there. (OK, maybe I was drunk) I took a shower and poked around the bathroom for some aspirin. I couldn’t find any. I changed into my clean clothes. I keep a set in the truck, along with a toothbrush, just for events like this. I made a mental note to add aspirin to my overnight kit. The headache was bad enough that I decided to head out to the local Safeway to get some aspirin. I also picked up some breakfast. Some fresh thyme, chives, and tarragon, a dozen eggs, some brie cheese and black forest ham. I couldn’t remember if Liz has coffee, I don’t recall her drinking it at the office. So I also got a pound of Starbucks and a bag of oranges.

I went back to Liz’s house and made the coffee and squeezed some oranges. I sat and read the San Jose Merc and had a chat with buster until signs of life started to emanate from upstairs. Buster is their pet ferret that they keep in a cage in the family room.

Liz came down first. "Good morning! I see you found the coffee maker." I offered her a cup and some orange juice. I started to chop up the herbs for omelets and began heating a frying pan I found in the kitchen. Liz protested, "Stop, you can’t cook breakfast. I’m still full from last night." I looked at her and could tell that she didn’t mean it. "Your mouth says no but your eyes say yes." She laughed and put a hand on my shoulder. "Have you ever had pork adobo for breakfast?" she asked. "We’ve got plenty."

"Thanks, but I’m partial to eggs in the morning." I really do love a brie cheese omelet. I made three and Tom was down by the time the third was done. Tom made exaggerated "mmm" sounds while eating. I love it when people do that - when they are eating my cooking. When he finished his fresh squeezed OJ he jokingly asked if I’d move in. "That’s the best offer I’ve had all week." I replied, "But the commute would be a bear from down here."

I headed back home at about 10. Scott (my housemate) had gone to visit his family in Yakima so he wasn’t home. Jason (my other housemate) was out somewhere but I didn’t know where. I sat on my bed and looked around at my room, my head still pounding. I had moved in more than six months ago and half my stuff was still in boxes. This isn’t what I had in mind for a bachelor pad. I went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. When I got there I saw that Jason had left an empty can of chili on the kitchen counter and some dirty dishes in the sink. Hell of a thanksgiving dinner.

I suddenly felt terrible for him.

Hi, I'm Rich

I’ll confess. I’m a chronic Blog lurker. For several years now I have read a number of blogs and commented anonymously and enjoyed reading them. It seems easy enough – so I decided to finally take the plunge. Here goes.

So, since this is the start of my Blog, I’ll tell you a little about myself. I am Rich (with a big R, not a little r) – so really Richard (I try really hard not to be a Dick). I just turned 34 in August. My kid sister teases me that I was named after Richard Nixon – he resigned from office the day I was born. I guess my parents weren’t watching the news – or maybe it’s some weird sense of humor they have. I grew up in Hawaii. Aiea to be more precise. I am a Haole. If you are from Hawaii, you know what that means. I was, in fact, the most haole guy in my school growing up. That was the bad part. The good part was I got to grow up in Hawaii – although since I lived there my whole life until I was 23, so I didn’t know anything different. It wasn’t a paradise. We had dentists, traffic jams, indoor plumbing, and homework just like the rest of the world. Still, it’s a nice place. If the dot com bubble ever comes back I’m going to retire there.

A lot has changed for me in the past year. I used to have a job that I loved, a great girlfriend that I was engaged to, and lived in a great apartment in Cupertino. I got cranky at my former employer and quit without having a new job in hand. Not the smartest move I ever made - but, damn, it felt great at the time. I landed a new job, but had to take a pay cut and job is not nearly as good. My fiancé gave me the heave-ho a couple of days before our wedding. With no one to share the rent with and a smaller paycheck I was forced to either start drinking cheap wine or find more humble accommodations. I opted to move in with some buddies from the office.

Now I work as a software engineer (I write computer programs) at a company in Sunnyvale. I got my Computer Science degree from the University of Hawaii and could not afford to make a living in Hawaii. San Jose is expensive, but at least you can get a good paying job. I travel a lot, as my job involves getting out and meeting with customers. Of all the engineers in the group I am considered the “presentable” one. I guess that means I have some modicum of social skills.

I live with 2 other guys in a rented 3 bedroom house in Mountain View – Scott and Jason. The three of us all used to work at the same company in San Jose. We are all nerds. But then so are most of the folks in the neighborhood. Just about everyone here is working on computers in some way. Although during the bubble (1999-2000) everyone (even my favorite bartender) became a web designer – My bartender would read Java manuals between serving drinks. Fortunately, now he is focused on his mixology and his clientele.

Lynn is my best friend and drinking buddy. We met at the University of Hawaii, taking computer classes together. She was the smart undergrad in two of my master’s level classes. Now – inexplicably – we work at the same company in Sunnyvale – small world. Just after the break-up with Sarah (the one that dumped me at the altar) I abused alcohol pretty significantly, and Lynn was right there to help me. Partly, I’m sure, because I abuse a pretty good class of booze. She was always there to listen to all my whining and crying. If someone is going to put up with my whining the least I can do is buy them some good wine. When things go great or crappy, Lynn is the first one that I call. It’s really great to get a female perspective on things from someone you trust. I consider myself a smart guy, but when it comes to women I can do some really dumb things.

Lynn is living with and engaged to Jim – they have a place in Milpitas. Jim is a Windsurfer (as am I) and we have gone out on the bay a few times. He is more of an enthusiast than I am. But he keeps pushing me to get out there. The problem is that I got spoiled in Hawaii where the conditions are so perfect – the tradewinds combined with the warm water – that I have a hard time with most of the locations here in the bay area. You can get some good wind on the bay – but that water is dirty and cold. Jim drinks my good wine too, but he doesn’t have much patience for my pining over Sarah. He tells me, "Look, you’re rich, good looking, well hung, and 45 minutes from San Francisco where there are way more women than straight guys. Go get laid and you’ll feel better." Sometimes I think he might be right – sometimes it’s good to get the primitive male perspective on things too.