An honest mistake

Was hurrying to a team potluck at the atrium... and really needed to go pee.  So I rushed to the bathroom on the 1st floor to relieve myself.  That bathroom has always been a bit strange.  There are two general openings with sinks on both sides of the wall when you walk into the 'outer' bathroom.  Only for you to pick two doors before going to the 'inner' bathrooms.  

I pushed through the door and was met with a bathroom... with no urinals!!  Maybe it's like those airport bathrooms where the urinals are on the other side of the wall... nope.  No worries... LM is weird like that.  I pop into the first available stall and start paying the water bills - ahhhhhh..... until all of a sudden... it occurred to me.  Wait.  Did I check the sign on the door?? 

What if..... this isn't the Men's Room!?!?!?!?

I look down at the door.... the stall doors go the bottom of the floor.  Thank gawd!!! People can't see my feet are facing the toilet.  Immediately I thought... I need to get out.  But I'm in the midst of watering the plants... I can't just stop.  Out of the corner of my ear.... I ear from the far side of the facility a light, silent tinkle. Sh*t!!! Someone is in here.  And the noise they're making is but a trickle... and here I am... pouring out from my loins.  Creating splish and splash and echoes.  I need to quiet down.

So I try to slow the flow, as they say, and I squeeze my urethra muscle... only to make things worse in forcing more out.  Now splish and splash has become a full spitter and spatter!! I normally try to aim for the "hole" and collect as much as I can in the bowl.  But the aftereffects are anything but... north, east, south, west.... the downpour is leaving a mark everywhere.  And I am the embodiment of every stereotype against men and our poor aim. 

I need to get out of here.  But need to flip to ninja mode.  No one can see me.  What if I get caught?!?!?!

• My pronouns are They/Them!!!
• Diversity and Inclusion.
• It's an honest mistake.
• the SJSU Volleyball Team that's been winning by forfeit.

A surge of thoughts rush through my mind as I think of an exit plan... to get off the stage... to dodge being labelled as a pervert.  

I'm listening... has the door opened? Has my colleague on the other side of the facility gotten out yet? Do I wait for her to leave? I hesitated... but she's not moving.  Probably on her phone or something... 

It's time to go.  Time to run.  Time to GTFO of there!!!!  I look down... and it's a mess.  Droplets everywhere.  The toilet seat is us.  This isn't new... happens all the time at home... and I aptly clean after myself.  But no time now.  I can be anywhere... BUT HERE!!!!  

I flush.  

Bust through the door.

Give a courtesy rush of water over my hands.

Grab a paper towel.

And out of the corner of my eye.... and the far end of the room 6 sinks away... I see a basket of feminine hygiene products.  Where was that a few minutes ago?!?! I didn't see it!!! Why didn't they put it by the door so folks like me won't actually be like me.

Crashed through the big wooden door... and there it was... bright as day.  A sign that says "WOMEN." 

Hey... no one saw.  Maybe someone heard and suspected.  It was nothing... but an honest mistake. 

By Any Other Name

Was soooo excited when I saw this at Target.  Immediately went onto all three library accounts to reserve the physical and digital books.  I was like... 199 out of 200 in most cases!!  Then all of a sudden... on back to back to back days... the libraries ping me saying the book is available.  Good things come to those who wait... But waiting doesn't necessarily equate to good things.  Not in the case of this installment of Picoult who apparently, has struck out again after 2022's combo piece, Mad Honey.

It's the holiday season... which is aptly timed because "By Any Other Name" is like Charles Dicken's Christmas Carol... a time period piece traversing the multi-verses of modern day Melina (Mel) and the Shakespearean Era of Emilia.  The two are linked by genealogical lineage - the great, great, great grand parent of the other... and the latter is also the creative byproduct of the former, where modern day Melina, who hides her identity behind a non-binary name, recollects the triumphs and gut-wrenching/all-too-real defeats of the muse that helped shape modern day high school English classes. Though there is a contrast of the gender and class struggles from the gaps in centuries, Picoult deep dives into the raw and genuine discrimination that blindly exists or is aptly accepted today with the voice of the minority being crushed by the stalwarths of society established not by their own faults... but traces back to Eve giving the apple to Adam, or Adam accepting the apple from Eve.   

Poetry is my not cup of tea... nor is the ideaology that Shakespeare or Victorian? English will cause one to float on a cloud.  What floated... were the turning pages skipping the irrelevant only to find nothing was missed with every passing cloud.  Picoult did light a fire under me with her all too graphic and vivid description of domestic violence and the recovery of it.  Having been in two delivery rooms.. I was standing right there in the delivery room next to a 17th century midwife, no epidural, and miracle of life.  I'd be remiss if I did not mention the eroticism in the love-making scenes juxtaposed with the act of pro-creation or carnal satisfaction. 

As was the theme throughout the book... this compare and contrast left me doing the same with her previous works.  Still vital... is Picoult's amazing use of metaphors. Character buildup... disdain or empathy alike.  Long gone is that final twist that's as staple as Columbo's "one more thing."  As the reader turns the pages... or in some cases, fast-forwards the pages... one can't hope and wish that this book was not actually written by Jodi... but by Mel or Emila... or by any other name... 

Climbing to the top... only to be at the bottom

Annual Jr. High basketball tryouts... SW hasn't done diddly squat all summer.  He went out to "play" with me twice during the fall.  And I guess he has PE and his elective.  I will say... his handles has improved and he's much stronger and quicker than last year.  So his skills are head and shoulders above his 7th grade self.

Results came out today... and SW bashfully says, he's the 12th best player on A-team!! SW made A-team!!!  But oh... he knows full well... he's going to be riding bench the entire time.  

Rewind a year ago... and two years ago... when he didn't make the top teams of his grade... and how disappointed he was.  In 6th grade... he ended up being MVP.  In 7th grade... he ended up being starting point guard and MVP, again.  This year.... he admits... maybe he should be downgraded, just so he can get play time.  

It's that whole concept of big fish, little pond.  Or climbing the mountain, only to be at the bottom of the apex.  When does it end for my little David who's battling his life full of Goliaths? 

CONGRATS to SW.  So proud of his achievements!! 

Denver Offsite

 Had a leadership offsite in Denver this past week... here are some random thoughts and nuggets.

• First night arrival had dinner with my immediate team... we are not cohesive.  Too many awkward silences and forced-small-talk.  Dunno what to do
• Forced my team to have seafood with me the first night... I think that was a mistake.  Or was it?
• I've been through the mechanical manufacturing at least 3 times... this time, things finally made sense.  
• Going through SEC... I also know so much more than I did the first 3-5x I went through the shop.
• Sunnyvale is no where near Denver in terms of volume, action, opportunity.
• Watching the Denver L4's and L5's give a tour... I don't think my 4's and 5's stand a lick
• I should've moved to Denver 10+ years ago.  I might be Director or VP by now.
• Shared a car with Tony...and he was the driver.  Dunno how I like having my legs cut off from underneath me.  I couldn't go anywhere.
• I hate flying.
• I won my turf war....for now.  Maybe it was a turf battle.  I was so happy when I celebrated.
• I am blessed. 

Like an elephant

Met up with dad for coffee today... and the first thing he told me right after he sat down was, "I'm going deaf.  Because I can't hear, I assume others can't ear so I speak very loud."

A little over a month ago... I went to brunch with him and towards the end of brunch, he got louder and louder to a point where I had to dial him down.  I can't believe he remembers... and I bet it's been gnawing at him for the past month.  He can finally get it off his chest. The things I say...