I really miss my friends in San Diego. Life always just seemed happier, more care free, less complicated back then. And that’s how I feel moments should be lived.

Unlike here in Malaysia, hugging was a natural custom that was practiced in SD. We would hug when we greeted each other, we would hug when we said good bye, we would hug to just say “Hey, how’s it goin’?” And I’m not talking about the sort of lame hugs high society gives each other with the air kisses. I’m talking about big manly hugs here, the sort that gets exchanged in battle after victory.

Upon leaving Amphibia Digital here in Malaysia, I walked around to give everyone a hug, and it was the most awkward experience. Every time I moved in to deliver a hug, I got a quizzical look, sort of a “What is this guy doing?” expression. And the embrace always ended up feeling forced, their bodies unbending, stiff like corpses gone into rigor mortis.  Compared to some of the guys I hugged on my final day, Frankenstein would probably rank as cuddly.

I’ve always felt that hugs are a bridge between two people’s souls, a connection that allowed one to share their happy moments, and diffuse their unhappy ones. Joy is always many fold sweeter when shared, if only with one person. And it is the same with the burden of sadness.  It becomes many fold lighter when shared, if only with one person. Almost like in a ‘two hands make light work’ kinda way.

Hui Chin and I headed for San Diego after dropping Su Ling off at the airport on Saturday. We reached at 2 in the afternoon and headed straight for the ever charming 976 coffee house in Pacific Beach for hot chocolate. Hui Chin and I got into a lengthy discussion about religion and it got dark in a blink of an eye. We dashed over to the Grossmont Mall to get Brian’s birthday present; 4 bags of Hershey’s Hugs & Kisses stuffed into 10 pairs of white socks. Pick Up Stix, a Nouvelle Chinese food place, served up a pleasant surprise. We had Chow Mein and the House Chicken.

Hui Chin and I made a late entrance at the Other Side where RCR was performing, and missed Brian’s birthday drum-off in the process. It was interesting how this one young girl was so taken with the band members and was trying her best to get noticed by Brian.

Oh, Ketty has a new nose ring. Nope, not a stud that goes onto the meat of your nose, but a double-balled hoop that is driven through the center divider that connects your nose with your upper lip. Kids these days. I never thought I’d find myself saying that.

We adjourned to the apartment after the Other Side. The whole gang was there. Dan looked bigger than the last time I saw him. Hui Chin was really exhausted so she retired to the back set of my cramped car after meeting the bunch. There were lots of goodies this year as compared to last year – Sayre’s sinful, semi gooey chocolate cake and Jen’s lemon crusted pie that just made your eyes pop open with a look that says it all.

Jen did not pour beer on my face this year.

Ketty danced around in Brian’s glittery G-string, a birthday gift from Victoria, who wasn’t too amused with the fact that someone else was wearing the present she had bought specifically for Brian. I didn’t see a reason for her disamusement given that Brian was probably never going to wear that piece of cloth, and that the gift’s worth was the shock value that it possessed.

The party was winding down when I met Gavin, a long-haired Filipino guy that works with Brian. He was okay to talk to at first but his mouth was like a train that had lost its brakes. Gavin was proud of the fact that he knew how to say “I love you” in 22 different languages and never hesitated to demonstrate his language skills, over and over and…

Hui Chin rejoined the party at 3 in the morning when it was just about time for bed. Mama Skanky laid out a nice cushy make-shift bed smack in the middle of the living room for us. Duracell mouth Gavin, Carlos and some drunk chick who were still in the apartment obliged us with a loud annoying argument on who would be able to stay up the longest. Brian moved us into the bedroom and it was lights out.

Iron Chef Justin and Iron Chef Brian had breakfast going at noon. Bacon, eggs and cinnamon pancakes as we watched Terminator 2 on DVD. The guys were planning to play football at 3:30. We had planned to pay Thom a visit in his new home but he was at the flower farm in Carlsbad. So we got on the 5 and the compass needle pointed North for the next two and a half hours.

The La Jolla Cove was magnificent Sunday afternoon. Even more magnificent was the Laker’s beating the Blazers in a crucial nail biting game 7 that evening.

I can see a bunch of road workers from my window being scorched by the big blow torch in the sky. They almost look like shrimp on a Tepanyaki grill. If the A/C were to go out for 5 minutes here in the office, there would be an outrage and everyone would start crying like babies in wet diapers.

My smiley weekend was somewhat marred by a twat deprived cop who issued me a $340 parking ticket. I parked my car in the blue for awhile to squeeze some cash from my already dehydrated ATM account. I was only a few feet away, my car engine was still grumbling… heck I could have been out of there faster than the milkman out the window following a husband’s return.

And to further establish himself as a world class dick head, the police officer opted to give Bob a ticket as well. Bob was still in his car, his engine was running and we were all on our way to Bob’s brithday dinner.

Other highlights of my weekend include Jen Skanky pouring beer all over my face when she attempted to stream beer into my mouth as I lay on the ground, Brian Murray getting naked at the Boulevard, finding April’s bra in the morning and Ketty feeding me Kellogg’s Corn Pops with her toes.