Category: Friends

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Comic Relief

So this past weekend, hubby and a good friend of ours made a trip to Chicago. The reason we went to Chi-town is to attend the 2007 Wizard World Comic Convention (a.k.a. The Chicago Comicon). We’ve made this (insert “Star”) trek every year for the past five years so that my favorite “fanboys” can get their fill of all things comic-related.

I usually go to the “Con” for at least one of the three days to check out what’s going on. Mostly it’s to check out all the latest toys, games, and movies coming out in the next year from major companies like Sony and Marvel. For hubby and our friend, it’s about the hunt to find those comics or graphic novels, statues or busts or any pop-culture related toy for a decent price. For hubby, it’s also about being able to participate in Heroclix tournaments.

For me … it’s all about the costumes. Where else can you see grown men in spandex bodysuits made to look like Superman or Spiderman? Some can pull it off, but the majority … well, I give them an “A” for having the guts (literally) to dress up. The cute ones definitely are the kids; who can resist an adorable Supergirl or cool-looking Cyclops? I just wish I could have seen a dog dressed up as Yoda or a cat dressed up like Puss-in-Boots.

As luck would have it … this year’s trip wasn’t strictly about Comics. While trying to find directions to the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center, I found out that the Midwest Stitches knitting convention was happening at the same time as the Comicon. Yes, definitely more up my alley. Aisle after aisle of beautiful luscious yarn, knitting “tools”, and embellishments. If they could only schedule their conventions EVERY year at the same time as the Comicon …

Well, we couldn’t very well be in Chicago without heading downtown or meeting up with some friends. The goal was to head to the Virgin Megastore off of Michigan Ave and then over to Lincoln Park to meet up with our friends for dinner. So we boarded the Blue Line at Rosemont only to find out that, since service was being done on the line, we couldn’t head directly downtown. Instead, we were ushered onto busses that would eventually take us to “The Loop“. After finally making it to the Magnificent Mile, we were disappointed to learn that the Virgin Megastore permanently closed … Oh, the humanity!

So then it was off to find the Red Line to take us to the Lincoln Park area. After a quick rest stop at the corner Starbucks for some intense “fanboy discussion,” we met up with friends to enjoy some great sushi. And because I had to get my fix of dessert somewhere, we made a stop for some home made ice cream. Eventually, we had to find our way back to the Blue Line in order to get back to Rosemont. Unfortunately, the only way we could get back to the Blue Line from the Lincoln Park area was to take another bus. And well, after being out and about all day long in quite warm weather (it was about 94 degrees outside during the day) … let’s just say being in a pretty crowded bus was not a quite comfortable experience. Once we got back onto the Blue Line, it was smooth sailing back to our hotel.

Overall, the trip to Chi-town was so much fun. Trips around town became major adventures. Conversations about every day life became interesting discussions about philosophy. While the main reason that we make the yearly trip is to head to the Comicon, it really was more about spending time with those friends who make life interesting.

To view more pics of our Chicago Adventure, click on the album below:

Chicago Comicon 2007
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Ya Ya Sisterhood

Last week, I had the opportunity to go up to northern lower Michigan (oxymoron, I know … but Michigander’s would understand) to spend time with a few co-worker’s at one of their weekend houses. Her place is situated just west of Grayling right on the Manistee River. This is the third year in a row that I’ve went and it’s always such a wonderful time.

Despite the fact that I work with these people day in and day out and that I do feel pretty close to them , every year I find myself initially hesitant to go. Part of it is because I’m extremely close with my husband and, although he understands the need for “girly time,” I hate to be doing fun things without him. The other part is that sometimes I think that I’m not as in touch with my “female ya-ya sisterhood” side as most women are.

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I grew up as the only daughter in my family; the youngest of two with my brother being a couple years older than me. It was overall a sheltered environment; having been a first-generation Filipino-American and having gone through 12 years of Catholic school. Based on that bit of history, I feel many times that I grew up in two different worlds. There was the world of school; where most of my friends were caucasian and maybe never encountered another person of a different culture before. For example, I can recall being called “My Little Shogun” by one of my friend’s parents, as that Made-For-TV movie was quite popular when I was in grade school. How wrong is that? First of all, wrong ethnicity. Second of all, Shogun is typically reserved for a male military rank in the Japanese army. And being only 9 of 10 years of age at that time, how does one respond to that?

The other world was the Filipino Family and Friends world. These are the other Filipino kids that I’d hang out with whenever Filipino social events would be thrust upon us. They were probably the only other people that could relate to how it was like being the only “Asian” in our class, but none of them went to the same school as I did. Therefore, how could we fully support each other in social awkwardness if we didn’t even run in the same social circles outside of these Filipino events?

Having lived in the two separate worlds has made it difficult to get close to someone … anyone. I think maybe that’s the reason that I feel very guarded when meeting people for the first time. Heck, it’s probably the reason I don’t feel comfortable telling people my deepest darkest fears. It would’ve been nice though, to have that type of person growing up. To experience what it would be like to be really close to another female person. To experience some sort of sisterhood.

I’d say the closest I ever felt to feeling that sisterhood was growing up with my three female cousins (all sisters) in London, Ontario. There are many summers and holiday breaks that I can recall staying at each other’s houses for weeks at a time. During those times we would do just about everything together. But the older I got, the more difficult it was to maintain such a closeness. Life and distance just got in the way. We just couldn’t spend as much time together as we used to, especially once we graduated from high school. Now the only time we tend to talk to one another is at big family events like weddings. But whenever I see the three of them together, I can’t help but feel just a tad jealous that, despite their ages and the distance between them all, they still manage to remain close. They still manage to have that bond of sisterhood.

So it’s that lack of “sisterhood experience” that initally made me hesitant to head up north with my female co-workers. Would I be socially awkward in situations? Would I commit a social faux pas? Would I snore too loudly or make other embarrassing sounds of bodily function? And because I’ve been emotionally bursting at the seams for the past few years, would one conversation about how infertility has affected my life throw me into embarrassing sobs?

Well, it turns out I did turn into a blubbering idiot that weekend. And even though I was initially embarrassed by my uncontrollable sobs or my rants and raves about work issues, I eventually felt more and more relaxed around them. I think there will always be a part of me that feels that I missed out on the female-bonding experience, especially while growing up. However, making that trip “up north” and talking to these girls has made me feel more aware that I do have them opportunity to experience sisterhood … I just got to take that leap.

To see more photos of the weekend, click below:

Girl’s Weekend
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Erasu(red)

The last time I saw Erasure was my senior year in high school. I can remember that entire day clearly. It was unfortunately the night after my Godmother (Ninang) past away. I hadn’t cried yet; I was still in denial. I was close to her, and particularly her son who was the same age as I was. During her sickness (she died of ovarian cancer), we spent a lot of time with her and those people that were close to her. After all, these were the Filipino families that I spent most of my childhood growing up with. It certainly helped they were the families that my parents would spend their weekends either playing in bowling leagues or otherwise gambling through the night playing mahjong. Us kids would spend those long nights either playing in the arcade room at the bowling alley or entertaining ourselves by playing board games, listening to records (yes, records), or even making random prank phone calls a la-Bart Simpson-style. So when we finally got the news of my Godmother’s passing, I didn’t know how to feel. This was, after all, the first time I had experience the death of someone really close to me.

Since I was a senior in high school (and therefore “old enough to make my own decisions”), I had every intention of still going to the Erasure concert as I had already paid for the ticket, and let’s face it … I knew every single word of their songs. My Mom, however, had other ideas. She felt that I owed it to my “God-brother” and Ninong (Godfather) to be there with them. That feeling of being torn between responsibility and escape was ultimately what broke me down into tears over my Ninang’s death.

I can clearly remember secluding myself in my bedroom closet and crying. At first it was over the argument that my mom and I had. Then it was about feeling guilty about letting my “Godbrother” and Ninong down. And finally it was about the loss I felt over my Ninang’s death. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t stop crying, why I suddenly felt so alone and so lost for any other emotion other than sadness. I must have stayed in my bedroom closet for what seemed like hours just crying and eventually napping on and off. Ultimately (and I’m not sure if she just felt bad for me), my Mom let me make the decision as to what I wanted to do. And well, as you already know from the first line of this entry, I chose to go to the concert.

I have a feeling my Ninang was looking after me that night. It’s as if she knew I needed the distraction of this concert to let me experience a little bit of happiness in the coming days. My friends had picked me up in the midst of what ended up being one of the biggest snow-storms that year. We ultimately made it to the Masonic Temple in Detroit (after our friend made quite a few unintentional 180-degree spinouts along the freeway) over an hour later than when the concert should have started. Lucky for us, Erasure also just arrived and still had to get the stage set up. An hour after arriving, Vince Clarke and Andy Bell treated us to a great performance, allowing me to forget for a moment how sad I was actually feeling inside. I sang my little heart out that night and was able to laugh at all the silly flamboyant outfits that Andy Bell would put on. And afterwards, as we made our way to Greektown for a late-night Pizzapapalis fix, my friends and I recounted all the adventures that we had that night. I didn’t end up getting home until after 2 am that night; well past my curfew. But the next morning, nothing was said. Again, I’d like to think that my Ninang had something to do with that as well.

Now, why am I recounting such a memory at this time? Well, it’s because this past Tuesday I had the opportunity to see Erasure again, more than 17 years since that winter evening back in high school. Come to think of it now, I’m more than twice the age I was back during that initial concert. (Yikes!) It’s also brought back memories of singing and harmonizing to Erasure songs on road trips to Chicago. And it brings back yet another memory of driving to Ann Arbor in the midst of another snowstorm just to visit hubby in college.

Anyway, the concert this past week was such a great time. It gave me the opportunity to sing all the classic Erasure songs that I used to harmonize back in high school and dance that “old-skool new-wave sway.” It’s also given me an opportunity to think of my Ninang again and remember her fondly … the way I do every time I sing one of their songs.

Click on album below to view more pictures from the concert:

Erasure Concert
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Portland, OR Trip

So hubby and I took a trip out west over the Fourth of July weekend. Our friend, Rich who had moved out there last year, got married on that Friday after the 4th, which just happened to coincide with my birthday. Let me tell you, it was an awesome birthday for me!

First of all, we flew out on Wednesday, which was the actual holiday day. We pretty much assumed would be a hectic traveling day, but it truly wasn’t. In fact, the airports were just about empty and all the staff (including those pesky security officers) was friendly. Literally, nothing could have gone smoother.

Once we landed in Portland, we hopped into our rental car and headed east towards Hood River, where Rich lives. We were given specific instructions to take the historic scenic highway in order to appreciate all the beauty of the Columbia Gorge.

Now, being from the Detroit area, everything is pretty much flatlands. Strip malls, gas stations, and concrete. The further away from the city, you’ll see farmlands and beautiful greenery, but it’s still primarily flatlands (unless you travel further north). So to look out your window and be consumed by all this lush greenery and (gasp!) mountains, you can’t help but be in awe.

(Side bar: I kept teasing Rich whenever he told us he just lived “uphill” from downtown Hood River, that nothing is just uphill around here. Everything is “up-mountain.”)

But back to the scenic highway route. After taking Exit 22 off of I-84, we headed “uphill” toward Vista House, which is an art-deco building literally perched on top of a cliff. From that view, you can see almost endlessly down the gorge in either direction.

Continuing to head east on the historic highway, we ended up at our first waterfall, LaTourell. You easily can see the falls off of the road, but by taking a short walk down the path, you can actually get a better, up close view the fall. Hubby and I were daring enough to step right up to the falls. Let me tell you, it was 90+ degrees outside, but the closer you got the the falls, the force of the falls and the mist made it feel like it was in the 50’s!

Next stop on our trip was Wahkeena Falls. From the road, you could some nice shots of the bottom of the falls where it cascades down onto some rocks. However, the half-mile trek up to the bridge provides you with some other spectacular views of the falls.

Once again, hubby and I were daring enough to get up as close as we could to the falls. In fact, if you travel on the right side of the falls, you’ll eventually stumble onto a shallow cave where you can get a unique view of the falls.

Our last stop on our scenic journey to Hood River was at Multnomah Falls; which I just found out is the second tallest year-round waterfall in the US at 620 ft in height (for those geeks like me that are interested, Yosemite Falls is the tallest).

Legend has it that a Native American tribe was infected with a deadly disease and was in danger of dying. The daughter of the chief went to the top of a cliff and was told by a Great Spirit that to stop the epidemic, she would have to throw herself off the cliff and sacrifice herself. She did this and died. The chief wept bitterly and cried out to the Great Spirit to give him a sign if this sacrifice was not in vain. At that moment, water began to fall from the top of the cliff, forming Multnomah Falls. The legend also says that under the right conditions, you can see the daughter’s face in the waterfall. In fact, we were able to see a printed picture of her face in the falls. Unfortunately, we weren’t lucky enough to capture her image on our camera, nor were we able to spot her face.

After that, we made our way to Hood River and checked into our hotel. After a quick dinner, we headed to the downtown area to meet Rich and other out-of-town guests at a local pub where we were able to enjoy the Hood River fireworks out in the parking lot. It was quite a long traveling day, but certainly beautiful and calming … a great way to have started off our vacation.

The next day, hubby and I headed back to Portland to check out it’s downtown area. This was the first of three consecutive days of us checking out Portland. It’s such a nice downtown area, especially the Pearl District where most of the cool shops are. In that area, hubby and I found what we would call heaven … Powell’s City of Books, the largest used and new bookstore in the world, which occupies an entire city block and is divided into nine color-coded rooms that houses over 3,500 different sections. I swear, we could just live there … especially since there’s an in-store café to provide us sustenance. Now, if we could only find a shower … Needless to say, we hit that store two of the three days we headed downtown.

Other cool things we checked out down there was the the Pioneer Place mall (where we got our first glimpse of the iPhone. Sigh …), the only Doc Martens retail store in the country, and Platinum Records (where hubby finally got new DJ headphones and some hard-to-find Buzzin’ Fly vinyl).

While getting lost trying to find Platinum Records, we happened to stumble on the Portland Street Market. Finding little jewels like that is just so much fun. Oh, and we ate at a Todai restaurant (which, for some reason, we always seem to find in any major city we’ve traveled to lately. Why, oh, why won’t they open one in Detroit?!). We met a really cool Filipina waitress there and got to talking about the area. In fact, every place we went to downtown, the people were always nice and friendly.

Oh, and did I fail to mention? No sales tax in Portland. That made for easy (not to mention, fun) shopping! So, really, what I’m saying here kids, is that downtown Portland is a fun place to be.

Another one of our days was spent making the trek to the Pacific coast. From Hood River, the coast is about 2.5 hours away. For those of you that know me, getting to put my feet in the sand of any major body of water is a must. It’s definitely the Cancer in me that loves the water.

Anyway, everyone we talked to recommended heading to Cannon Beach which is just south of Astoria, OR. As I continued to look at the map along the way, I kept thinking that Astoria, OR was significant in some movie or another but I couldn’t remember exactly which movie. And then we stepped onto the beach. I took one look at the rock formation off of the coast called “Haystack Rock” and said one word to hubby: “Goonies!” Yep, one of my favorite movies of all times was filmed both on that beach and in Astoria, OR. That was definitely a thrill for me.

But seriously, the real reason we were in Portland, OR was for Rich and Melissa’s wedding. All the festivities leading up to the wedding were so much fun. First of all, there was the above-mentioned fireworks. Then the next day was the rehearsal dinner at the Cathedral Ridge Winery. I’ve never seen grapevines up close before so that was definitely a thrill. Not to mention the beautiful landscape with Mt. Hood as the backdrop. Oh, and the later it got, the louder the frogs became (think “Bud-Weis-Er”). It was actually quite fun watching the “boys” trying to catch frogs and then show them to the “girls.” I’m such a tomboy, that unlike the other “girls” I was actually excited to see the cute little green creatures.

And finally, the wedding itself was beautiful. Set inside St. Mary’s Catholic Church, it was just awesome to see one of our closest friends (who we thought might never get married) say “I do” to such a great person. One great highlight of the ceremony was hearing Sinead O’Conner’s voice (a recording, of course … not the real Sinead) singing “Make Me A Channel of Your Peace.” I just can’t seem to get the image of her tearing up a picture of the Pope in that famous Saturday Night Live episode. Another highlight was after the mass when the bridal car, Rich’s prized (and I mean PRIZED) Audi TT, pulled up and it was decked out in “Just Married” decorations. If I only had my camera handy to catch his appalled look.

The reception was in the ballroom and on the patio at the beautiful Columbia Gorge Hotel, which is set on a cliff overlooking the Columbia River. Everything about the reception was wonderful; the food, the music, the company. As Rich was friends with hubby back in high school and college, it was fun for me to get to know some of hubby’s classmates and to visit with some friends and family that we hadn’t seen in a very long time. Rich even “DJ’d” his own reception (read: iTunes playlist). Despite all of us harassing him about the “last minute” nature of putting everything together (including a slideshow of pictures to go along with the first dance, father/daughter and mother/son dance as well as ones of a bunch of friends and family that continuously played throughout the night), Rich did an excellent job. My favorites were definitely the instrumental Pixies and Duran Duran songs he played during dinner. That, and all the excellent 80’s songs we danced to most of the evening. Oh, and those mojitos, too! I have to say, Rich and Melissa threw an incredible party!

Unfortunately, I don’t have too many pictures from the wedding as I relied on hubby’s better digital cam to take the shots. And, well hubby won’t be letting me post them any time soon until the graphic designer in him touches up all the photos. Grrr …

So, after 5 days of nonstop fun, it was time for us to fly back to Detroit. I can’t tell you how difficult it is for me now to look outside and see flatlands once again. Perhaps one day (possibly in the near future?) we’ll move out west.

If you’d like to see more pics from our trip, click on the album below: