come back from San Francisco, it can't be all that pretty

At the end of November, I was in serious contention to win the Bad Indian Daughter of the Year All-America Competition, by not taking the pains to go home for Thanksgiving. Now, even though I had no plans of going home for Christmas, I thought I was in danger of losing the title, because my parents did not seem particularly phased about it. That's the danger of being a Bad Indian Daughter for too long: you run the risk of turning into the new norm for your family.

Turns out I was worried for no reason. Yesterday, I got a veritable onslaught of guilt trips, back to back, within minutes of each other. In the midst of them, I also got a quick reprieve, in the form of a phone call from Miss D, who hilariously ranted about the way a lot of streets in Potrero Hill fail to connect to the Mission. Ah, I miss the days when those discoveries were new and annoying. I also miss the days when I went out in my neighborhood as much as D, who lives 45 minutes away! Sigh... I lurve that chick's energy. I need to steal me some of that. I think I already have. When driving home with her from a Bollywood blow-out, she said, so quietly that it nearly seemed she was embarassed about it, "I'm really happy." How cute is that sh*t? Let's just hope I don't infect her with my negativity.

Anyway, after a quick chat with D, where I managed, for a change, not to b*tch to her for eleventy billion hours about my friends (a really bad habit that I swear I am going to get in check soon), it was back to the family harassment. My GBF said: "These are good problems to have. It's when they don't want you to come home that you should really be upset." The dude has a point. On the other hand, I had to shut my phone off after the fourth phone call from the latest mama or masi who thought they could be the straw that broke the camel's back. So, let's just say I think I've clinched first place, or at least qualified for the championship medal round.

Tomorrow, I have to spend the entire day in a meeting where we will be generating mission statements and developing messages. It will be interesting to see whether I manage to make it through the day without poking myself in the eye with a fork. Or jumping up with a Network style outburst. These tendencies of mine may explain why a co-worker recently told me that he has put me in "the 5 minute club." I asked him what that meant and he said, "Give me 5 minutes before you start shooting." I didn't mount much of a defense. Personally, I like having my co-workers fear me a little.