Movie note: Lost Boys: The Tribe

ONE STAR

But why did Corey (Haim? Feldman? Feldman. Haim died, right?) speak like he was constipated the entire time?

Thank God

One positive thing about working in Massachusetts, where the majority of my co-workers are Catholic, is that Good Friday is a slow day at work. And everyone leaves early, including me!

The Patridge family

I'm dismayed at television for giving Audrina Patridge, the least interesting girl on The Hills (except for Stephanie), her own reality show. Of course, I checked out the first episode and I'm glad I did for two reasons:

1. I have now been introduced to Audrina's mom, the perennially tanked leather bag who acts more like a wronged teenager than a mother.

2. I'm 98% sure the opening song has the lyrics, "Ooooohhh ... I sharted."

It's all very appropriate.

Marathon Monday

Many organizations in Massachusetts celebrated Patriots' Day yesterday with work closures, community parades and other such festivities. Patriots' Day also is when the annual Boston Marathon takes place - and I'd been informed that it's a big day of celebration for Bostonians each year.

Since our workplace does not recognize the holiday, I went to work last year on Patriots' Day, just like any other day. This year, however, I decided to take the day off and join in the revelry, mostly because friends were in town from DC to run the thing.

Cheering for marathons is kind of crazy. I'm also very bad at it. I met up with my friend toward the end of the route, and we watched out for Poochie, whose pace we were monitoring on the BlackBerry. Before he passed us, I noticed all these hundreds of people, running, limping and crawling by. Some were being carried off on stretchers and others simply looked like death. It reinforced that I never want to run one of these things.

When Poochie came running by, I totally missed him (like I missed Puppy in the Chicago Marathon several years ago), but I did get to catch up with him at the meeting point at the end and congratulate him on finishing. And re-qualifying for next year's Boston Marathon, which I can't decide is a good or bad thing.

Girl talk

I miss my friends! Last week, Reebs birthed a new baby, so Dickinator came to town for a little visit this weekend. Coincidentally, TurboBoob was in town for a family Pesach celebration, so we were able to spend last night hanging out and cooing over the baby.

The four of us lived together in college nearly fifteen years ago, along with six other characters and a cat. So, we had a pretty good catch-up session, talked a lot about babies, other friends, some frenemies and our current lives. And it was nice hanging with people who could check me whenever I said anything that might have rung untrue to myself or really ask the hard questions about my job, Boston, my family and Puppy.

Since Reebs is still tired from her labor and all, Dickinator, TurboBoob and I capped off the evening with some delicious food and drink. It really was lovely spending time with them yesterday.

I demand a judges' save

I didn't care too much when American Idol voted Pia off, but I'm so sad that Jaclyn was sent home packing on this week's America's Next Top Model!

She was the only likable one in the bunch, and she took great photos! I loved her squeaky air-heady voice and wanted to see her in Morocco. Although, it would have been better if ANTM sent them to Canada, like dum-dum Alexandria guessed.

Quality control

The other day, I accompanied one of my colleagues who's responsible or product quality to one of our stores and we assessed our product. We looked for loose stitching, uneven hems, puckering, stains, shade variation, dry crocking and other product defects.

It was an interesting visit that definitely heightened my appreciation for our quality team's job. I'm not quite so detail-oriented to review product so closely, so I guess it's good I do what I do, instead.

But at the end of the day, it was nice to get out of the office for a few hours and spend some time in a mall!

Celelb sighting: Cynthia Rowley

I was pretty sure I saw Cynthia Rowley at last night's ICA opening. So, naturally, I have been doing some internet stalking this morning and it appears she is in Boston!

Artsy fartsy

Last night, DJ Mother Nature took me to the ICA for the opening of a new exhibit by Catherine Opie, a photographer who is apparently known for images of football youth, lesbians of all ages and surfers. Sadly, none of those works were included in this collection, but the exhibition was still nice - mostly sunsets and Boy Scout jamborees and womyn.

I've wanted to visit the ICA since arriving to Boston, but it's so rare that I take time out to do cultural things. So, I'm grateful that DJ Mother Nature suggested I accompany him.

It's a very small museum, and I think the building was more interesting than the actual works of art within. Since it was an opening reception for members, there was very good people-watching. DJ Mother Nature knew several people, including an agressive and annoying lesbian and I actually ran into a former co-worker! It was nice to get out and about on the town and do something different. Or do something, period!

Workplace boundaries

I'm growing increasingly displeased at work. It's all come on very suddenly, and I fear it's gathering momentum like the proverbial snowball. And the worst part is, I seem to be feeding directly into a vicious cycle, spiraling down into an unproductive mess.

It pretty much started last Monday, became exacerbated on Tuesday, seemed to get better throughout last week, then plummeted back down yesterday.

As I was packing up my things to leave the office, my boss called my BlackBerry (from another building on our corporate "campus") and asked me to wait for him to return for a little discussion. I thought it was in reference to a vendor to whom I'd sent a stern message a few minutes prior, but he surprised me by closing the door upon his arrival.

It seems his boss, whom I met a few hours earlier, felt I was "detached" in our meeting and not my usual self. So, he asked my boss to check in on me. In truth, I'm not terribly pleased with how things are going, but it's been a particularly painful week of nonsense. It's nothing from which I can't recover, but I guess I'm no good at masking the strain.

The problem is, when my boss comes in to ask me if everything's okay, it really puts me on edge. I don't come to the workplace to discuss my feelings. And if I'm not happy about work, I am not about to share that with my superiors. Maybe that's not the best way to deal with things, but I've seen too many people get burned when they're honest about how they're feeling. I don't need to get saddled with the "attitude" label and boxed into a position with no prospects.

And when my boss shifts gears to ask if everything's okay "at home," in a condescending, faux-caring manner, it makes me want to die. If things aren't okay at home (which isn't the case), I certainly wouldn't burden my colleagues with my personal problems. Maybe I'm old-school, but work is work and home is home. In many cases, I'll build friendships that cross from work to home, but if this has not happened naturally, I resent anyone who tries to force it. And I'm not about to unload or moan about my cat nanny or lack of fun bars to my boss.

I'm told our HR partner may contact me to check in on me as well. That should be a fun conversation. All this "caring" just makes me want to find a new workplace.

Movie note: Monsoon Wedding

THREE STARS

People eat marigolds?

More ching chong ching chong

The other night, Puppy brought home a very drunk lady. After she learned that I was of Chinese descent, she discussed how her chicken fried rice from the night before didn't turn out too well. And later, after I told her I am not a very prolific chef, she said she would call me when she next would make chicken fried rice, so that she would be able to make it properly. Racism.

Ching chong ching chong

I never claim to understand Chinese, but once in a while I surprise myself when I hear something or remember the word for something. Last week, for example, I was pleased to order a piece of cake in Hong Kong and asked for a plastic bag so I could take it with me. It's the little things.

At work today, I met with a group of vendors, two from Hong Kong and two from Korea. In the middle of my spiel, I mentioned an initiative I hoped these vendors would invest in, and one of the Hong Kong-based folks said to the other in Cantonese, "They always ask us to cut costs, but then ask us to do extra things."

To which I replied, "Well, we see these minimal costs as investments that will reduce costs over time through..."

It was a nice moment.

Schizo supper

Last night, I finally had the pleasure of meeting Puppy's former roommate, an older gentleman from Texas oil money who suffers from schizophrenia, cancer and imaginary diabetes. Accompanying him was his manfriend of several years, a fuzzy-haired fellow obsessed with conspiracy theories and a tendency to wear ladies undergarments.

We gathered for dinner at Fakey Saccharine and So So Deaf's home, where they and Puppy created a meal as an homage to the grand dinner parties that Puppy's former roommie used to host. Dinner was tasty and clearly is not helping any effort to maintain or shrink my waistline.

When Puppy's former roommate arrived, it looked like one of his eyes had closed shut. Upon a bit of prodding, we learned that this was due to "diabetes" and that it would return to normal in two weeks. On further prodding, we learned that he could, in fact, open this eye, but that he chose to close it in order to avoid seeing double. Fakey Saccharine retrieved a sleeping mask from his bedroom, which was quickly fashioned into an eyepatch - something that did not come off throughout the entire evening.

Dinner conversation was much more normal than I expected. I didn't witness any responses to auditory hallucinations or any building of structures from stones - two things that apparently have happened in the past during dinners with this couple.

I did, however, get involved in a trying conversation with the roommie's manfriend. He started talking about abolitionists and Martha Washington and Alaska. It was a lengthy ramble where he would begin a thought, only to let it trail off without reaching any point. From time to time, he would ask me if I was following, and to tell you the truth, I wasn't. And it was not for lack of trying! I was really giving it a good effort, but I simply could not follow. When no one came to help me out of this "conversation," I decided the rest of my night should be spent trying to avoid eye contact with this man.

Trying teamwork

In the past few days, I've endured several of my most irritating pet peeves at work, such as:

* Being appointed scribe in a small group breakout session
* An all-day team offsite
* Collective wordsmithing
* Group editing of PowerPoint on a projector
* Being put on the spot to present without any warning

It hasn't been the best week at work.

Annual performance review

Yesterday I had my annual performance review with my boss. Here's a nifty tip for you managers out there: If you would like to have a constructive conversation about performance, do not schedule it for the morning your employee returns to the office from a 3-week trip to the other side of the world and it's probably a good idea to let him/her know what the subject of the conversation will be.

My meeting invitation was simply "Touch Base," which, after three weeks out of the office, I took to mean simply that my boss wanted to catch up. But when he handed me a piece of paper outlining my bonus for the year, I realized I had stepped into my review. Simply put, this was one of the most confusing and frustrating conversations I've ever had. Throughout the hour, I was told many different things, paired together below to highlight lunacy:

1. You need to be more strategic. You need to pay closer attention to details.
2. You need to have a more aggressive stance on which factories we should not be using. Never stand in the way of business needs when it comes to factories we should use.
3. You're taking on too much work. You need to reach out and support other parts of the business.
4. I'm pleased with everything you've accomplished this past year. You will not be receiving a merit increase.
5. The only way to increase your compensation is to get promoted. I do not know what you need to do in order to get promoted.

And the irony? I got to work in a good mood, thinking how much I was looking forward to making progress on the work ahead of me. I left in a decidedly worse mood, thinking how much it blows that I am woefully under-compensated for the work I put in.

Also ironic? The fact that my boss insists the bottom-line message is that I have done a wonderful job and that I have a bright future ahead at the company. It's clear to me that he was struggling to provide feedback, but instead of offering anything constructive, he babbled some platitudes and counted down the minutes until our meeting ended.

When the beat goes boom

I'm very busy catching up on the television shows I missed while traveling in Asia, and at the top of my list is All About Aubrey on Oxygen. When Ms. O'Day made her debut years ago on Making the Band, I became instantly intrigued by her, the obvious star of the show.

And as a member of Danity Kane, Aubrey still kept my attention, even though I started to relate better to some of the other girls who were more down-to-earth. Still, Aubrey's sass was interesting and kept my attention. Hell, I even bought her issue of Playboy!

So, as she tries to make a comeback, I am interested to see how Aubrey's journey continues. This show, however, is a hot mess. There are so many contrived situations, her makeup and clothing are ridiculous and her "friends" are horrible. I enjoy the parts where she's rehearsing, in the studio and generally doing her music thing, but I could definitely do without the rest of it.

Brothel bar

The other day in the lobby of my Hong Kong hotel, I ran into PocketMan, a fellow I met several years ago in Sydney and haven't really been in touch with since. We ended up going out for a drink my last night in Hong Kong, a city PocketMan knows well since he travels there for work nearly every month.

We went to Aqua Bar, with a spectacular view of the harbor. After catching up over a few drinks, we headed back toward the hotel and passed an alley where a little old lady stood and implored passers-by to get a drink. Clearly, it was a shady, shady venture, but PocketMan felt up for a little adventure and pulled me into the alley.

We made our way through the alley, past an older man and a little boy eating dinner on some stacked crates, and into a tiny little bar. In the bar sat a blond man with a little Asian lady hanging all over him. Behind the bar were three young Asian girls wearing tank tops with plunging necklines. They had listless expressions on their faces and leaned against the bar so that their breasts looked fuller.

After approximately two seconds in the doorway, I decided I couldn't stand to be in the bar a second longer, especially since I couldn't handle the overwhelming stench of urine. I told PocketMan that I wasn't staying and he tried to convince me to stay for just one drink. I declined and walked out.

At the alley's entrance, a different lady, older than the first, asked, "Why you no stay for drink?"

Huffily, I answered, "Because it stinks like piss in there!" and briskly walked away, with PocketMan following quickly behind.

I'm not the kind of panda who likes to support prostitution, especially where the girls are probably underage, sold into the sex trade by their parents and clearly unhappy to be involved. But I guess it makes for an interesting introduction to Hong Kong's seedier underbelly - and an awkward end to my Asian trip.

Movie note: Tangled

THREE STARS

My, what big eyes they have!

Movie note: Clash of the Titans

TWO STARS

They're making a sequel to this boring mess? I wish they hadn't discarded the clockwork owl.

Movie note: The Tourist

TWO STARS

Nice clothes!

Movie note: Burlesque

THREE STARS

Xtina did a better job than Elizabeth Berkley and Cher makes a great Robin Antin!

Movie note: TRON Legacy

THREE STARS

How did they know to film all those scenes when Jeff Bridges was younger? I should have seen this when it was in the theater.