bacterial love

"Haven't you read the studies? Bacteria need love too."

~ my mom

best gift ever

My mom and sister got off the plane and handed me something amazing: a giant bag of Chick-fil-a. There is nothing more a girl could ask for.

the cure for awkwardness

Lawyers are an awkward bunch. But the most amusing are those who try to be cool about being awkward. They like to point out the awkwardness in a situation because it makes them feel a little less stupid, even if doing so usually worsens the situation. "It's awkward, but I know that already," they are reassuring us, "and if I say it first, I can pre-empt your judgment of me." A typical situation is, for example, when two people first meet at a bar.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Well. This is awkward."

Now they have diagnosed the situation, creating the illusion that *they* are not usually awkward. But in fact, they must be, else why would they feel prompted to point out awkwardness and increase the discomfort in the first place?

labels

"What is a beer bottle? It's just a label. Dump out the beer, pour in water, stick a flower in there, and what happens? It becomes a vase."

- my mom

why we need lawyers

After a year of loud monster sex, dog deprivation, doormat dog shit, police raids, and laptop theft, I am finally moving out of this god-forsaken apartment. Naively, I sent my property manager an email, letting her know I was moving out and asking if she needed anything from me. Of course, I received no reply. That was when I realized that I keep operating as if people in the adult world have common decency towards each other. They don't. I can't just casually tell her I'm moving out, or else she will ignore it and suddenly stun me on my way out next month with the news that I still haven't given formal notice and must therefore pay an extra month's rent. No, to avoid that, I have to send her a formal letter, and luckily since I'm a lawyer, I know how to write one.

This experience has made me remember all over again why my profession exists. It's because the older we get, the more we have to use fancy language to act like giant babies to each other. "I don't want to live here anymore" doesn't count. It has to be, "Please be on notice that I will be terminating my tenancy and vacating this unit on a date that is 30 days or more from the date of this notice." All of that legal gibberish just to say, "Peace out, bitches." Ours is truly a noble profession.

i'm possible

[in mixed Korean and English] "'Impossible' is just a word. Put an 'apo--apotrope'? 'Apostrophe'? Stick an 'apostrophe' in there, and what do you get? 'I'm possible.'"

"Can a big bowl fight with a little bowl? The big bowl wins only when it surrounds the little bowl in a hug."

- my mom

serious dilemma

I am so so thirsty. But I don't want to get off the couch. Why is life so hard?

it can be done

Got to the airport at 6:55 for a 7:30 flight. Made it on the plane in time, without cutting in line and without killing the excruciatingly slow old couple in front of me in the security line. I have superpowers.

ninja assassin

Last night, my family and I did something we haven't done together in twelve years--we went to see a movie. As you can imagine, since my parents don't really speak English, there is nothing more boring for them than to be trapped in a theater in front of a loud movie that doesn't have Korean subtitles. They made an exception, though, for Ninja Assassin, a movie that stars Rain, one of Korea's most famous pop stars. My parents were fascinated by the idea that he would speak English in the film. My sister and I, on the other hand, were going to check out his hot bod.

Since my dad is a fan of action films, he was especially excited to watch the movie, right up until the first fifteen minutes, when he realized that our beloved Korean pop icon was playing a Japanese character. "Why is he pretending he is Japanese?" he demanded.

I explained to him that white people thought all Asians looked alike, and in Hollywood inter-Asian casting happened all the time.

"You mean they can't tell us apart?!" he barked.

My poor dad. Here he was, looking forward to a blood-letting action film, and he ended up too distracted by Rain being Japanese and food coma to enjoy himself. My sister and I, on the other hand, got what we went there for. Rain is smokin'.

breaking up over the phone/email

I just wanted to note that I am actually in favor of the above methods. People always complain that "s/he didn't even do it in person!" but really, would that have made it better? Think of how awkward it is for the dumper--they have to make plans with you to see you in person, which means they have to act like nothing is wrong, and then they have to say those excruciatingly awkward words that must ultimately convey, "I just don't like you anymore." Afterwards, they have to sit there uncomfortably as you cry. Is that really better?

No. Email and phone are the way to go. It's easier, it's quicker, it's less awkward, you don't have to see each other after it's over with, and best of all, it gives the person who was dumped a chance to say, "I'm not upset about the *break up*, I just can't believe s/he did it over the phone!" It's perfect. You're planting in the dumpee that first seed of blame, helping them realize, in fact, *you* were the deficient one, and they deserved better, which is what they need to move on anyway. Trust me. You're doing them a favor. Take one for the team.

i am a god

I ran a half-marathon this morning and then came home and cooked a Thanksgiving meal for five hours. That is all.

tums are delicious

An abridged version of a fascinating discussion about healthcare:

Friend: i'm on a diet. if i take flaxseed like in a capsule do i have to count the calories?
Me: oh god. if it's got calories listed on the bottle, i guess so. if the bottle doesn't say, it doesn't count.
Friend: no it's like a vitamin shoppe thing.
Me: hmm. well most medicines that have calories say so. like tums. 5 calories a tablet!
Friend: wait. tums has calories?
Me: the delicious kind that i eat do. assorted berry flavored tums. man that shit is good.
Friend: lol. dont eat too much of them.
Me: i only got them bc i was stuck in line at the pharmacy. and i was HUNGRY, and that was the only edible thing i could buy.
Friend: oh god.
Me: and i was pissed bc after i bought them, the warning label said you couldn't eat more than 7 a day, and i was like WTF.
Friend: they are medicine! you shouldn't just eat them like candy.
Me: they are delicious and i was hungry! they shouldn't make them so good then.
Friend: get some candy
Me: there was no candy! i was at the stupid kaiser pharmacy. they should stock power bars or something.
Friend: they make them taste good for the people who have to take them. i get indigestion sometimes. so i keep them in the house.
Me: shit i eat them as a snack. have you had the assorted berries?
Friend: lol no. i get tums smoothies.
Me: the berries are better than the smoothie version.
Friend: i'm not taking it for flavor. i take them when i feel like there's something stuck in my throat.
Me: you are missing out.
Friend: stop eating them immediately. you have to stop.
Me: i just ate two during this conversation. they were delicious.

ANOTHER EMERGENCY

I LOST MY TABASCO SAUCE

best morning ever

12 miles along Pacific coast, topped off by 15 minutes of icing feet in the ocean and then In-n-Out cheeseburger animal style. In November. Okay. I think I officially love LA again.

lunar maria

They found water on the moon. Unbelievable.

refusal

And God said to me, "Stop whining about your allergies."

And I sneezed and sniffled and said, "No."

drinking alone

Today, I was cleaning my apartment, when I noticed an open bottle of wine on my counter. I remembered opening it a week or so ago when a friend was over for dinner. Worried that it would go bad and therefore to waste, I sat down after I finished cleaning and polished off the bottle. It occurred to me that this was my first time ever drinking alone.

I better not look back at this entry someday and think, 'This is how it all started.'

swayed

Okay LA. There is a small chance that there may be hope for you and me after all. A small. Tiny. Chance.

joe the douchebag

Today, I punched Joe Lieberman in the face, except I didn't. But I sure wish I had.

reality bites with missing teeth

So I'm running with my running group through the parks in Van Nuys, when we get to a point in the trail where we have to jump across a series of jagged, pointy, marbly, slippery rocks that are scattered across a small rapid. Now I am a moderately adventurous person who will do exciting things once in awhile (Tarzan swing, ziplining, jumping off cliffs), but what most people don't know is how much will power it takes me to do those things, because on the inside, I am terrified of heights, rocks, falling, water, etc. Anyway, so I'm trying force myself to cross but I can't. Every time I manage to get safely to a rock, I have to sit down and ponder the rest of my life before getting the nerve to cross to another one.

Meanwhile, my running group, not noticing that I am frozen with terror on the rocks, crosses the stream and disappears. I start to get a little panicked because I'm going to get lost if I don't keep up. Then I see this guy come back and start crossing the rocks towards my side, and I'm thinking, oh maybe the trail crosses back this way, so I don't have to cross at all. No such luck. He was just coming back to help me across. I didn't recognize him, so I knew this was his first run with us. Anyway, this guy holds my hand as I cross the rocks, shaking like an idiot, and he is simultaneously making fun of me and reassuring me along the way. It takes us about fifteen minutes to cross what took everyone else about thirty seconds. I am too scared and grateful to be embarrassed. As we get to the last of the rocks, he turns back and holds his hand out one last time so I can step onto the bank. "What's your name?" he asks. Then he tells me his.

The set up was perfect. It was one of those accidentally romantic scenarios, one of those stories you could exaggerate to your kids, you know, and tell them, "When Daddy and I met, he carried me across these dangerous river rapids." And if there was any justice in the world, this guy would have said to me, "My name is Michal or Peter or John. I have a job, and I like to run. Would you like to go out to dinner sometime?" But no. This is my life. So what I got was, "I'm Bucky from Kentucky. You can just call me Bucky. Hey, do you have facebook?" Then he grinned at me to show me a large gap where his right front tooth should be. My savior was Bucky from Kentucky with his buckteeth bucktooth.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I was very happy he helped me across. I just think it's funny how nothing ever works out the exact way you think it should. I guess in reality, there are only two kinds of guys: the guys who help you across rivers, and the guys who have all their teeth.

mouth breathing

When I was a little kid, my mother insisted to me that "only white people have allergies." Since there were no Asian kids in the town I grew up in, I completely believed her. I also believed her when she acted like my constantly stuffy nose was my fault because I breathed through my mouth. Your nostril hairs filter out the dust, she said, but when you breathe through your mouth, there is no filtering, so the dust causes mucus to build up. Oddly, it never occurred to her or to me that maybe I was breathing with my mouth open because I had a stuffy nose, not the other way around. Sometimes, when my mother saw me breathing with my mouth open, she would put her hand on my mouth and tell me to practice breathing through my nostrils.

Since I've gotten older, I've learned to breath with my mouth shut, but every once in awhile, I go through phases where my nose is stuffed up all the time. You know, like in the spring or in the fall, when there is a lot of pollen in the air. I never cared before, but since I moved to California, it has severely affected my running. So today, for the first time ever, I took a Claritin before going on my run. Yes, Claritin, an allergy medication. And wouldn't you know it. I could breathe with my mouth closed again. All this time, I've just had allergies. I guess my mother's nightmare came true--I've finally become a white person.

announcement

I do not feel sorry for Roman Polanski. Why? BECAUSE HE DRUGGED AND RAPED A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL. Unbelievable.

roll over

Today I woke up, was screamed at by three people at work, came home to another collector's notice for something I do not owe, got a bill from a dentist I *do* owe but can't afford to pay, and somehow have managed to lose both my debit and credit cards. Meanwhile, God just stood by and laughed at me, like a divine asshat.

google-venting

I was sad today, so I Googled "puppies," and that made it much better.

oh yeah

I got traffic school!! Whoo!! My year-long sordid history with this ticket is finally over!

apt words

Some words just sound like what they mean. Such as:

- dread (as in, "I am dreading traffic court tomorrow to battle out the reason I started hating LA in the first place.")

- stink (as in, "It stinks to have to fight a traffic ticket you didn't deserve.")

- cop (sounds like "cock," which is totally appropriate)

- wash (not related to my ticket, just one of those words that sounds like what it means)

parent-stalked

My mother called me yesterday and exclaimed, "You're famous!" When I asked her what she was talking about, she told me that she had Googled my name and found various newspaper articles and work profiles about me.

"That's not a good thing, you know," I told her, and promptly explained to her the hazards of being searchable online. I also blamed her for giving me such a unique name, thereby making it certain that any future employer would be able to look me up.

By the end of the conversation, she was ordering me to change my name to "something more ordinary immediately!" It's sad when the woman who gave you your name suddenly wants you to change it. The power of the internet is infinite.

half-marathon

Finished the Long Beach Half Marathon today! The good news: it was along the beach with perfect running weather. The bad news: I was way slower than my first half marathon in New Bedford last year. Back then, I averaged 9:50 a mile. This time, I averaged 11 a mile. This could be for any of the following reasons:

- my awesome friends were not there to cheer for me this time
- last time, I was hungover
- I am now 1.5 years older
- I am now 7 pounds heavier
- my time last year was in fact a mistake
- I was distracted by the pretty views of the Long Beach shore

Either way, it was an awesome race! Gearing up for a full in March.

fyi

This blog is pointless and stupid.

lucky

For being a self-absorbed, cynical, guarded, oversensitive nutjob, I sure am blessed to have a lot of awesome people who put up with me.

aging

I miss the days when I could pull two all-nighters and still party on night three. Now, it's difficult to even drink water without feeling tired.

right of way

My accomplishment for today is that I caused a four car pile-up on the Pacific Coast Highway when I attempted to cross the street at a pedestrian crosswalk. Thankfully, no one died. But I learned that the expression "stopping traffic" is not a positive thing.

fall

Date: Oct 2
Temperature: 80s

I miss fall. I miss the seasons.

I miss New York.

nerd insomnia

I have dreams that I am researching on Lexis and then wake up at 4 am and actually start researching on Lexis.

blackout nostalgia

I went to happy hour at Wurstkuche (a bar actually worth the hype, although I did not try the rattlesnake sausage), but the power was out on that block. This did not deter Wurstkuche in any kind of way. Wait staff walked around lighting candles all over the place, and the bartenders certainly didn't need electricity to serve draft beers. Made me nostalgic for the NYC Black Out of 2003, when the entire city lost power, and everyone was out on the streets, grabbing free beer and turning Manhattan into one giant party. Wurstkuche was almost as cool. Almost.

getting back together

In my limited experience, getting back together with someone is a terrible idea. Why? Because usually you broke up for a really good reason, and you are only getting back together with them to numb the anxiety and uncertainty that you feel when you no longer know what your future is going to look like. Suddenly, you start remembering the good times and think maybe things weren't that bad. Maybe this can work out. Then they do something that reminds you all over again why you can't stand that person anymore.

This is how I felt about L.A. when I came out of a restaurant to find my car keyed. Just when I was thinking about giving you a second chance. Thank you, no really, thanks.

have been away

Sorry, no time these days to make snarky comments on blog. All I do lately is work, run, drink, sleep, work, run, drink, sleep. Yesterday, I put a snag in my pattern and actually did some laundry. On my way to put my clothes in the dryer, I found a helicopter circling my apartment complex and a cop flashing a light from outside the complex and banging the doors. I went to let them in. A dozen cops swarmed the complex and asked me if I had heard any screaming. I said no, and held up my dryer sheets to show them I was just doing my laundry. I take all of this as a sign that I should not break my work, run, drink, sleep pattern, so I won't.

outrage

How could you Kanye????!!

this is amazing

Wow.

time passes

Now that the months have erased the painful memory of my family's awful visit, I miss them again.

best weekend ever

Pizza and kdramas. Life is good.

dangerous wishes

All day today, I was wishing you could give people tickets for being assholes (a brilliant way to generate state revenue), but then I realized I would get tickets all the time, so I decided to stop wishing that.

i hear you, i am leaving

Dear Los Angeles,

I hear you. Let's break up. I am so done.

- UB

the most delicious thing in the world

In-n-Out cheeseburger animal style after seven-mile run by the beach.

bill gates

I love that Bill Gates was just sitting around one day, thinking about the fact that hurricanes are caused by warm waters, and realized that all we have to do is make all of the oceans colder! Skeptics scoff, but I believe in him. I believe he can turn the entire ocean system into a microchip.

impatient

WILL SOMEONE JUST OPEN UP MY HOT DOG RESTAURANT IDEA ALREADY?!

also

I hate people who wink.

change

I don't like to get too politically serious on this thing, but health care is an issue I can't resist.

Sometimes I look back at the Obama campaign, and it feels like a dream. At the time, the momentum was so palpable--you could tell that this kind of energy was once in a lifetime. When I look at the sorry health care debate, though, that momentum feels so far away. I am disappointed. Not in the insane conservative idiots who shout their same sorry slogans built out of gut-fear--you can't be disappointed by those in whom you had no expectations. My disappointment is in the liberal activists on the other side, the ones who threatened mutiny as soon as the White House gave an inkling of compromise.

We forget why the Obama campaign was so successful. It was not because we got liberal progressives to vote. It was because we got people who do not always agree with us, even my Republican father, to vote for Obama. It was done not by preaching a liberal message or a conservative message but an inclusive message. The people who inspired me to stay involved were the ones who, every time I expressed doubt, said, "I hear you, and your view is important, and that is why you have to get involved--so you can actually be part of the change you've been waiting for." The people who discouraged me were the ones who let ego get in their way, who were convinced that they were the most committed, their viewpoints the most correct, and anyone who thought differently were useless. They thought *they* were responsible for changing history instead of feeling blessed to be part of such a rare point in time where the tidal wave of change was so strong that, with a little push, people couldn't resist riding it.

Health care was one of my biggest issues during the election. Having grown up with parents who have never had health insurance, I more than anyone want reform. But I don't believe the public option is the only option. I don't think it is the only option because no one knows exactly what that option or any other option will look like right now. It discourages me to see that former Obama supporters would cry foul just because our President stated that his goal was reform, not the public option. In my view, that is exactly how it should be: looking for the best way, not the liberal way, to crawl out of this health care mess.

For now, the White House seems to have caved to the pressure of its base and returned to championing the public option, but this fight is far from over, and I know that more position changes are coming. I dread that health care reform will fall prey to to the divide that results from single-mindedness, not from those who oppose it but from those who support it. I hope that those on the side of health care reform don't lose sight of the big picture--without a unified effort, there will be no change. While I think it is fabulous that those who support the public option will continue to pressure their neighbors, Congressmen, and President, I hope that when push comes to shove, they will back any effort at reform that ends up on the table. It's going to be a nasty fight--we just can't afford to be punching each other in the face. The other side is doing a good enough job of that already.

tolerance

The older I get, the less I give a crap about tolerating other people's views. I look at these psychos at town hall meetings who scream things like, "WE ARE SCARED OF OBAMA AND HIS DEATH PANEL!!" and "OBAMA IS A CITIZEN OF KENYA!!" and I think, "You are too stupid to vote." I don't sit there, as I might have in college, and think about why they may have a point or remind myself that my father is a Republican and so are my childhood friends from Louisiana. All I think is, "I wish there wasn't free speech in America for idiots."

unicorns

I've just realized that they're just white horses with horns on their foreheads. What's the big deal?

new york, new york

I just can't stop thinking about you.

margaret cho

Last night, I was out at dinner, and one of my friends remarked on the fact that I and one of his other Korean friends reminded him a lot of Margaret Cho. "Why is that?" he asked.

The answer is simple. Korean mothers are totally insane. They are unexplainably crazy, whimsical creatures who introduce themselves to your friends at your law school graduation by wordlessly giving them a peppermint. They ask you constantly if your Korean gay boyfriends are "still gay," hoping that maybe you will marry one of them. They emotionally torture you while also being there for you in your darkest moments, thereby making it impossible to love or hate them completely. And most importantly, they are completely convinced that society believes that they are normal, thereby allowing them the confidence to do and say ridiculous things, like singing operatically while on a public hiking trail (apparently it's good for your stomach), without fear of public censure.

I remind my friend of Margaret Cho because we both have ridiculous Korean mothers. She was just smart enough to make a career out of telling America about hers. Also she is talented and hilarious. But that is secondary, I think, to the fact that her Korean mom is almost as whacky as mine.

kill me

Oh my god. I haven't been this hungover since law school. Please put me out of my misery.

um

I am so awesome it hurts sometimes.

another perfect day

Today, I grabbed a burger at In-n-Out, cursed out five other cars on the road, and grabbed Korean BBQ with a friend for dinner. Road rage and great food--a perfect Los Angeles day.

lovesick

I can't believe this. After waxing poetic about Los Angeles for years only to find myself bored to tears after moving there, I now find that I don't want to leave Manhattan ever. The thought of leaving tomorrow makes my stomach clench. At least my suitcase will be twice as full as it was when I came.

I suspect that when I get married, I may have a problem with fidelity.

a perfect day

Today, I bought new shoes in SoHo with my New York girl friends, wore them out to dinner with my New York gay boyfriends, then got them soaked in a New York thunderstorm. Shoe shopping and rain--a perfect Manhattan day.

hero season

What's with all the dudes saving children from burning cars??

Beyond that, what's with all the people who happen to be around to FILM it??

dry heat

It just sounds dirty.

another celibrity death

The Taco Bell chihuahua died of a massive stroke. But what really shocked me was that "he" was a girl. I guess "Yo quiero Taco Bell" wouldn't have sounded as good in a chick voice.

old korean ladies

Today, while I was picking up my lunch, I saw two old Korean ladies walk in to the restaurant, clutching each others' wrinkled hands. Then, on the way back to work, I saw three old Korean ladies jaywalk across the street, scurrying (in the way that only little Asian ladies can) past the green traffic lights. On the other side of the street, an old Korean lady walked down the street wearing bright teal pajama pants and holding a bright pink parasol.

All of these things made me happy.

exhaustion

I was so tired tonight that I spilled water on myself while reading the news and didn't even move to clean it up for a full half hour.

group road rage

As we were exiting a parking garage near Santa Monica pier, a car stopped to let another car back out of its spot. Immediately, the driver in the car behind the one that had stopped pressed his horn and held it down, letting out the most obnoxious, useless honk to ever be honked in the history of honking.

"What, asshole?" shrieked the girl who had stopped her car. "I'm letting this guy back up, you jerk!"

"Yeah, douchebag," chimed in the driver who was backing up. "What's your problem?"

Within seconds, other drivers were also yelling out their windows at the guy. Various shouts of, "You're a prick!" and "What a douche!" echoed throughout the parking structure.

It was a beautiful LA moment.

family

My father's brother lives out in Los Angeles, but he and my father were not on speaking terms for a long time. After I moved out here, they finally reconciled, and they saw each other for the first time in 16 years last month, when my parents came to visit me. It was great--suddenly, I had an aunt and uncle right around the corner. So tonight, my aunt and uncle invited me over for dinner. I was a little nervous about going over there alone because, though we're related, they are basically strangers to me. It's hard to know how to act--you can't be too polite, but then you can't be too familiar either.

Luckily my uncle took care of that real quickly. Ten minutes into the dinner, he said, "So, tell me--how did you get to be so fat?"

Ah, Uncle. You really are family. I told him my mom had sent me a weight-loss hypnosis book, and he was appeased.

uterine vaccine

My mother called me to see if I had gotten "that vaccine, the one for your uterus."

"What?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, the vaccine for your uterus."

The major problem here was that I did not understand the Korean word for uterus, and she did not know the English word for uterus, so we were throwing out random English organ names (ovary? liver?) until she finally explained that it was "the Baby House."

"Ohhhh, the uterus," I said. "There's a vaccine for your uterus???"

"It's new," she said. "Everyone is getting it. You have to get three shots. You should go get it, I'm going to make your sister get it too."

"Do you mean the HPV vaccine?" I asked.

There was a pause. "What's HPV?"

"It's an STD," I said.

"AN S-T-WHAT???" she screeched. "They said it was for your UTERUS!"

I didn't tell her whether I had gotten the vaccine or not. I think it's better this way.

nightmares

I keep having nightmares about Michael Jackson. I dreamed, for example, that someone was killing him by stabbing him with a toothpick in the heart over and over again. I am either really deranged or extraordinarily artistic to be coming up with such metaphors in an unconscious state.

That or I am watching too much coverage of his death.

weight-loss hypnosis

My mother sent me a Korean weight-loss hypnosis book. Basically you're supposed to listen to this CD while looking at these pictures in a book over a period of 20 days. The best picture so far is one of a fat man hanging from a hot air balloon by a really thin rope. The hot air balloon is floating over the ocean, and the rope is about to snap. The instructions ask you to pretend you are the man in the picture. Meanwhile, the CD is playing ominous music, and a man is saying in the background, "You are about to fall.... You must get lighter.... It's dangerous...."

I wish I could say it's working, but the day I discovered my laptop was stolen, I was so stressed out that I ate two chocolate bars at work and made my friend watch me eat an entire sausage pizza and half an order of chili cheese fries. Maybe it only works if you're on a hot air balloon.

mormons

Two Mormons knocked on my door to convert me. One was this really hot white guy, and the other was a short Korean guy with an Australian accent. Not interested, I said, "But I had a lot of Mormon friends in high school."

"Really?" they asked. "Here?"

"No," I said. "I went to high school in Atlanta."

"Atlanta?" asked the Korean with the Australian accent. "That's weird. How'd you end up there?"

I looked at him silently for about three seconds until he realized that he was a Korean Mormon from Australia.

The other guy was really beautiful though. I am starting to understand why Mormonism is supposedly one of the world's fastest growing religions right now. The hot missionary tactic is brilliant. For a split second, I totally considered converting and having seven of his Mormon babies.

smoke thief

As if my life hasn't sucked enough this week, this morning, I discovered that some jerk stole my office laptop from my car while it was parked in my apartment's gated garage. The worst part, though, is that the asswipe was smoking a CIGARETTE while he was doing it. My car reeks of cigarette smoke now. What a shit bag. I hope he gets explosive diarrhea. I hope his prescription medication gets mixed up.

wow

So I had another root canal this morning and got a prescription for antibiotics and ibuprofen, which was the same thing I got last month. I went to the pharmacy at CVS to fill out the prescription, this time avoiding unnecessary purchases. When I got home and opened the bottles, though, I noticed that something was wrong. The pills were in the wrong bottles--as in last time, the pills in the antibiotic bottle had been in the ibuprofen bottle and vice versa. I knew this, because I did not take all of the "ibuprofen" last time and still had a bunch of "ibuprofen" pills left over. In fact, I had occasionally been taking an "ibuprofen" to combat the massive headache I'd been having (and wondering why it wasn't helping).

I called the pharmacy and discovered that this time, they had gotten it right--it was *last* time that they got it wrong. So after my root canal last month, I had taken 800 mg of ibuprofen three times a day for 7 days, thinking it was an antibiotic. Meanwhile, I was only taking my antibiotics once every few days, when the pain got bad. On top of that, I was going out drinking on some nights when my body was pumped full of 2400 mg of ibuprofen, which incidentally can lead to severe liver damage and stomach bleeding. And apparently, I've been taking antibiotics for my recent headaches.

"Don't worry about it," said CVS pharmacy. No apology, no nothing.

I am trying not to write any more angry letters, but seriously?

four day headache

I have had a massive headache for four days. Everyday, I consider taking ibuprofen, and every day, I decide not to. After all, you can't take ibuprofen and drink alcohol at the same time, and I still have my priorities straight.

more balance

1) I got my money back from Verizon.

2) I have to have my root canal redone because they fucked it up.

michael

I am sad about Michael Jackson. Sadder about his life than his death, actually.

neda

Everytime I read any articles about Neda, I start crying, but what really gets me, for some reason, is that we were the same age.

angry letters

I am starting to become one of those crazy people who write angry letters. Last week, when I was drunk, I saw a mistake in a CNN article and wrote an angry email to CNN about irresponsible reporting. The next morning, I woke up and realized that I had read the sentence incorrectly and it was in fact accurate.

Today, I discovered that Verizon charged me $36 extra for "data usage." I share a line with my sister, so I called her and asked her what the deal was. She said she had been downloading games that were labeled "free." I argued with three Verizon reps about the meaning of "free," (apparently you usually get charged for the game AND the megabytes you use when downloading, so while the game was free, we were still getting charged for the megabyte usage), and they did not offer to get rid of the (completely misleading, unethical) charges. So I made two customer service reps report a phone complaint and then wrote an angry email in the feedback section of their website, explaining that this was not about the stupid $36 but about practicing business with integrity.

I was so annoyed with Verizon that I Google-vented by searching for "Verizon sucks." That led me to websites created by other crazy people who write angry letters pretty much for a living. As I was browsing these websites, it struck me how psychotic these people sounded as they ranted about not only sending in an official complaint to the company through phone and email but also sending letters to the FCC, the Better Business Bureau, and your Congressman. By the time I was finished, instead of feeling vindicated, I felt dirty. Is this who am I fated to become? Is this the beginning of the end? Am I simply on my way to becoming one of those insane people who calls the governor's office about the stamp rate going up?

Needless to say, I was relieved to discover today that I had started my period.

zombie

I have become so boring that I can't even finish this

sixth finger

It's sort of like being born with a sixth finger and being tortured everyday by how horrible it looked on your hand and finally getting it cut off when you were old enough and then missing it and tricking yourself into thinking you shouldn't have cut it off and then buying a fake sixth finger because you missed it so much and then looking at your freakish hand and realizing yet again that you actually hated that sixth finger and being unable to wait to return the piece of crap so you can go back to having five fingers again.

parental visit

1) I have been ordered to get married by next year.

2) My mother walked down Hollywood Blvd., stepping on every star in the Walk of Fame and read the name of the person in the star out loud.

3) My father keeps asking me to take him to Beaverly Hall or Beverly G. I think he means Beverly Hills, but I'm not entirely sure.

4) My sister is only interested in buying Lay's Flaming Hot potato chips and sitting at home singing along to the songs on her laptop.

5) Every suggestion I make is "too expensive," including a noodle place that charges $8 a bowl. They shoot down every tourist idea I have, including the Griffith Park observatory, the beach, Disneyland, and Runyon Canyon. Then they complain that I'm not showing them around.

I missed my family.

writer's block

I seem to have run out of snarky commentary.

winning the war

Every time I lose something, it seems like I always get something better later.

lists

Things I need to buy:

- vacuum cleaner
- iron
- ironing board
- shelves

Things I keep buying instead:

- patio furniture
- alcohol

ouch

The worst thing about life and the best thing about life is that we are all interchangeable.

reverse idiocy

If Judge Sonia Sotomayor is a reverse racist for saying that her experience as a racial minority gives her a richer perspective in certain things than a white man would have, then Newt Gingrich and Rush Limbaugh are reverse idiots. Which makes no sense. Exactly.

ups and downs

Today, the following things happened to me:

- I dealt with a bunch of mentally disturbed people at work
- I saw Jennifer Hudson and Earth, Wind, and Fire perform
- The temporary crown for my tooth fell out
- I met Zachary Quinto, i.e. New Spock/Sylar from Heroes
- I found dog shit on my front door mat
- I met President Barack Obama

There really is balance in the universe.

nothing to say

k-guilt

The former president of South Korea, Roh Moo Hyun, killed himself amid a bribery scandal. He left office in '08. What I mostly remember about him was that young Korean liberals loved him and, of course, my dad hated him, almost as much as I hate Bush (which probably means that I would have loved Roh if I were at all up to date and informed about South Korean politics). But now, even my dad is feeling guilty for all the times he called Roh an SOB.

I am thinking of the other SK presidents who are in prison for major corruption scandals, and I wonder if it is impossible for power and integrity to coincide.

california rage

I have decided I am no longer in favor of democracy because people are idiots and should not be allowed to vote. They are incapable of thinking beyond their own petty interests. I think we should go back to a dictatorship, and if that results in fascism, well that is our punishment for being completely retarded.

quake safety

I was lying on my floor stretching when the earthquake hit, my first one since the big quake in summer '08. Having grown up in the south, I'm not familiar with earthquake safety, but I recalled, probably from a movie, that you're supposed to get under a table or something. That is when I realized that all of the tables in my apartment are glass tops. WTF. I guess when a really big quake hits, I'm just screwed.

holy shit

I just realized my parents are visiting me in three weeks. I have three weeks to lose 20 pounds!

FUCK

haha

I have the best friends ever. I am blessed.

anxiety dream

Last night, I dreamed that the president of my firm was yelling at me. Not for doing shoddy work but for keeping my social security card in my wallet along with my driver's license. "You idiot!" he shouted. "They could just look in here, write down your information, your social security number, and your credit card numbers and take your whole identity. What is wrong with you?"

The worst part was, I checked my wallet, and my social security card WAS in there. Still wrapped in the saran wrap my mom had covered it with over 20 years ago (ghetto immigrant lamination). Guess I stuck it in my wallet when I was moving and never took it out.

I can't help but wonder if this was actually a psychic dream. I am considering asking for a free credit report.

- UPDATE -

Good News: Checked credit report. No identity theft.

Bad News: I am not psychic. Just a basketcase.

understatement

I am anxious.

new favorite toy

Digital thermometor.

(Purchased while waiting 20 minutes for the pharmacy to fill a prescription. This is how they get you. I controlled myself and did not buy an inhaler just to try it out, although I was tempted).

root canal

As I was getting my root canal this morning, I couldn't help but notice that my endodontist was a little nuts. She was humming throughout the entire procedure and kept asking me questions, even though there was a giant metal contraption holding my mouth open. About an hour in, she paused in her drilling and said, "Did you hear that?" Since I had been instructed by her not to move my head and couldn't form any words, I attempted to communicate "No" to her with my eyes. "I think there is a mouse in the ceiling," she said. Then she continued drilling.

???

It must be hard to be an endodontist.

new favorite song

new favorite activity

Self-diagnosing self with internet.

legally large

My mother called me three times while I was at an awesome, record-setting Dodger game to let me know that she is sending me weight-loss pills. Last time she sent me weight-loss pills, they were non-FDA approved and from Canada. Hopefully, she'll do better this time.

fear validation

According to the dentist:

- One of my fillings is cracked, and I need a root canal
- My previous dentist did a horrible job with all of my fillings, so I have to have them all redone
- I have bronchitis, which is why I have been having trouble breathing.

This is so lame.

dental fear

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow, which means I have a tight knot in my stomach. I hate dentists. Every visit results in three things: 1) fingers in my mouth, 2) shame, and 3) drilling. I have always had cavities--a combination of weak enamel and a chocolate addiction. Why do I do this to myself? I'd almost rather not go until my teeth fall out in 20 years. Would that really be so bad? This way, I can save money and go to the dentist only once.

all asians sounds alike

I just had a really confusing phone conversation with my mom. 15 minutes into the call, she finally said, "Wait. Who am I talking to?"

"What?" I said.

"Oh, it's YOU," she said. "All this time, I thought I was talking to your sister."

At least it explained why she kept telling me that I slept too much and needed to clean my room. I was starting to think she was psychic.

goodbye dog

The dog I wanted was finally adopted by a family who adopted him and his kennel mate. I guess that worked out for the best. Sigh.

Being sick is so lame when there is no one around to pity you.

sick

I am getting sick. Why did this have to happen in the middle of worldwide hysteria about a flu pandemic?

swine flu

This weekend, I got multiple calls from my mother informing me that:

1) My sister apparently wants to be a singer, and my mother would like me to disabuse her of this insanity immediately, and

2) My mother is very concerned about the swine flu and would like me to get a flu shot, even if that shot does not in any way prevent swine flu.

She also reminded me to continue telling myself everyday that I am 52 kilograms so that eventually, my words will become a reality.

dick

PLEASE SHUT UP DICK CHENEY NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU

rushed

I was so excited to eat this piece of tangerine that I forgot to chew it and swallowed it whole.

war

After various amazing developments, it seems that I will be able to get that dog after all. The problem is, I contacted the rescue and they told me that they had taken him to an adoption exhibition this morning, and a family had been extremely interested him.

Now, I know that a nice person would just want the dog to be happy and be okay with the result either way. But then I remembered that I am not a nice person. I want that dog! So I am hoping *really really* hard that it doesn't work out for them.

why you should always fill your brita

Yesterday, after I came back from a sweaty, salty morning run, I headed straight for my shower so that I wouldn't kill my co-workers with my body odor. Unfortunately, the faucet sputtered in indigestion and yielded nothing. There was no water. For about ten minutes, I was in denial, so after staring at my tub for awhile, I went around my house, turning the dials for my kitchen sink, my bathroom sink, and my dishwasher. Nothing. No water except the sweat that was still pouring out of me. I thought, "I think I've had this nightmare before."

I debated my options. I could go to work smelling disgusting. I could jump in our tiny apartment pool. I could go to a friend's house and shower and show up at work an hour late. None of these options appealed to me. "But I have to at least brush my teeth and wash my face!" I told myself. So I began to eye the toilet, and IMMEDIATELY DISMISSED THAT IDEA. That's when I remembered I had a Brita water filter. It was a gamble though because sometimes I am too lazy to refill it. Luckily, it turned out that I had filled it the night before. So I spent about twenty minutes taking a mini-shower with my Brita pitcher. I don't think we will look at each other the same way ever again.

As a side note, my water is back on this morning, but there is no hot water. I love this apartment.

major progress

I am 100% certain that my sun lamp is working. This morning, on my morning run, I had incontrovertible proof. Usually when I run, my face is like this -_- because I have usually just rolled out of bed and am still half asleep. Today, though, my face looked like this ^o^ because I could not stop gasping with laughter. The reason I was laughing was because I watched a bunch of Margaret Cho clips last night, and I could not stop thinking about her saying, "I had no idea that I was this GIANT FACE TAKING OVER AMERICA!!! HERE COMES THE FAAAAAAAAACE!!!"

I'm sure everyone I ran past thought I was totally crazy, since I had my mouth open in silent laughter for half of my run. "I'm not crazy," I wanted to shout after them. "I just own a sun lamp!" But I couldn't, of course. I was too busy laughing to say anything to anyone.

career options

Tonight, I met a Scottish bartender at a bar, except he wasn't working there, he was drinking. He's been a bartender for 15 years and he's loaded. He even owns horses that he keeps at the same stables that Jennifer Aniston keeps hers at (apparently she has a horse). He was at the bar with his Scottish mom who was named Bunny, and they bought us drinks and gave us chocolate.

That is awesome. I want to be a Scottish horseback riding bartender who goes to bars with his mom named Bunny. Clearly I chose the wrong profession. I mean, I can't even afford a horse. What's the point of being a lawyer if you don't have a horse? I don't even have a dog.

jaywalker

On my way home from work tonight, I drove past the scene of an accident--a man was hit by a car. I'm not sure who I felt worse for, the driver or the man lying in the street. After all, hitting a pedestrian is every L.A. driver's worst nightmare (albeit also their secret fantasy).

The really shocking thing, though, was that as I turned the corner on a detour, I saw a man in the same intersection actually jaywalking across the street. Are you deranged? That's like--

I spent 20 minutes trying to think of an analogous act of stupidity, but I couldn't. That one is one of a kind.

confusion part 2

I don't understand where the weekend went.

confusion

1. Can someone explain to me why I am seeing the word "pirates" in the current headlines constantly, and they don't involve a big picture of Johnny Depp's face?

2. Why don't people who are selling their used crap on craigslist realize that they are selling used crap and charge accordingly? A reasonable price for used goods is *not* half the price you paid for, jackasses. Your shit is used. You sell that stuff for under $50 like you're supposed to. If I see one more ad that says, "IKEA BOOKSHELF! Selling for $150! Paid $300 for it. Only 3 years old, and already assembled!" I'm going to explode. Unless I am the one selling it, in which case, half-price is totally fair.

3. Today, there were ten people in the pool in my apartment. The pool is tiny--about 6 feet by 10 feet. My friends have always made fun of how tiny it is. I want to know how they all got in there--I didn't even know that ten people could fit in it.

4. Every time I call my parents, they are out doing something, like hiking or hanging out with their friends. How do my parents have more of a life than I do? They're supposed to be calling me when I'm busy, not vice versa. I do not like this role reversal.

dreams

In my dream last night, I couldn't fit into my dress, so I cried. Even in my dreams, I have mental issues.

sigh

A sun lamp is great, but it's no Asian mom. I miss my mom.

for the fans

I know all three of you who follow my blog are DYING to know:

I got my sun lamp.

finger exhaustion

On my work laptop, I use the fourth finger on my right hand to scroll down pages using the mouse touchpad. My finger is literally screaming from the pain. This will be my new barometer for measuring whether I work too much.

random rants

Guy who has the parking spot next to mine:
Please stop parking so close to the line. My spot is between your car and a large thick pole, and if you don't start leaving enough room for me to be able to park successfully within 15 minutes, I am going to ram my car into yours.

Mom:
Please stop calling me back immediately when I don't pick up my cell phone. If I'm not picking up, it means I am in the middle of something, and the thing you should NOT do is call again and again until I pick up. Especially if it's just to tell me to buy vitamin C.

Online Television:
Tonight, a Friday night, all of my friends canceled on me, so I started looking forward to an awesome night of doing my taxes, eating Lean Cuisine, and watching last night's TV online. All of the shows were reruns. You let me down, online television.

Amazon:
Send me my sun lamp IMMEDIATELY.

light therapy

Lately, I've had a hard time getting up in the morning and have been in a lousy mood in general. Rather than attribute this flawed behavior to my own inherent laziness and overanalytical self-absorption, I have decided to blame it on the fact that I don't get enough sunlight (in my defense, I do work in a windowless office). That is why I just bought this awesome sun lamp that tricks your brain into thinking you're in the sun.

I am convinced that once I get that lamp, I will wake up earlier, have more energy, and become a pleasant person to be around again. One reviewer even said it helped with weightloss. Clearly a miracle product. My friend points out that I live in Los Angeles, where the sun never sets, and no longer in Cambridge, where the sun goes to die. Thus, she says, it is highly unlikely that lack of sunlight is my problem. She is probably correct. But I am choosing to ignore her because I want to believe that spending fifty bucks on this lamp will solve all of my problems.

boundaries

My mother called me at 2 pm while I was at work. I assumed that it must be something important, because why else would she call me when she knew I was working. In fact, she was calling me to remind me of two things: 1) that I need to moisturize, and 2) that I scrunch up my face when I talk and this can cause wrinkles.

I would sit her down to have a talk with her about boundaries, but I don't know how to say "boundaries" in Korean, and I suspect that is because it doesn't translate. After all, this is the woman who never understood why I got mad at her when she used to "clean" my room for me.

dilemma

They say you should love your body the way it is. But if you do, what if it stays that way???

socialize

The reason you have to hang out with other people even if you hate them is because otherwise, you will only be hanging out with yourself. It's best to aim your hatred outward.

the internet

I've had a lot of conversations with my friends lately about how to meet new people. Having graduated from law school less than a year ago, we have all been scattered across the country, transplanted to new places with only a handful of contacts to keep us grounded. Most of us have new jobs that work us long hours, limiting our weekday social interaction to our co-workers. So when we talk about how to branch out and find new friends in our respective new cities, everyone seems to come to the same conclusion: our best shot is the internet.

I'm sorry, but I refuse. I refuse to believe that the internet is the best forum for social interaction. It's certainly one of the *easiest* forums for social interaction, but I think people often mistake that convenience for something else. There is no doubt that the internet is great for communication, but the convenience of it also breeds cowardice. Instant messaging, texting, email, Blackberries--there is a cowardice to all of these forms of communication. I know this because I am a coward myself. I know how much more protected I feel when I communicate my thoughts from behind a screen.

That's not to say that you can't meet good people online. But when it comes down to it, I am not ready for technology to replace the tangible space of real life human encounters. It's one thing to use the internet to *organize* social interaction--it's another thing entirely to use it as a replacement.

It's not so much that I judge people for meeting people online--it's that I don't want to let go of this idea that we can still talk to each other face to face, knowing nothing about each other, and withstand the awkwardness of that first eye contact. It's about training yourself for the harshness of conversation. In real life, when you have nothing interesting to say, you can't leave for a few hours and start the conversation again later, after you have had enough time to come up with something witty. That silence is there in your face, in real time, commanding you to fill it.

So no thank you. I'd rather be lonely a little longer than resort to meeting people through the internet just yet. Maybe I'll learn my lesson when I am still friendless in a year, and I end up dying alone in my apartment, my body left undiscovered for three weeks.

time

I think I may spend more time thinking about things I have to do then I do actually doing them.

uncontrollable hunger

Is it still Lean Cuisine if I ate two of them in one sitting?

email undo button

Oh my god. Once again, Google proves that it is genius. I am one step closer to finding an undo button for life.

overwhelmed

How do people have time to work, feed themselves, clean their house, fold their laundry, pay their bills, and have a life? I can only do half of these things.

timeless

Once, my friends and I found a huge fisherman's net and spent 20 minutes taking ridiculous pictures of ourselves inside of it. Except we weren't 12--this was yesterday. It's funny how as we enter our late twenties and early thirties, we perceive ourselves as having come a long way from the children we used to be. But when it comes down to it, the things that we liked to do as children are still the things we like to do now. The only difference is, now we have to be extremely drunk to have an excuse to act that way.

It's like you spend your entire adult life making money just so you can afford the alcohol that will make it socially acceptable for you to shriek with laughter at armpit farts.

good start

This morning, on my way to work, I was stopped at a red light when a sea of elementary school children were scurrying across the street. The pedestrian signal started flashing the hand at them, and the teacher guiding the students across the street held his arm out to stop the rest of them from crossing. They all came to a screeching halt, bumping into each other one by one and bursting into giggles. That's when I knew it was going to be a good day.

plotting

I am plotting how to get around my apartment's dog policy. So far I have come up with the following:

- Buy the dog and tell the property manager I was mistaken, he is not 42 pounds, he is 24 pounds, and hope she doesn't notice that he is huge.

- Buy the dog and force the manager to evict me.

- Move out and break my lease so I can buy this dog.

- Buy the dog and keep it at work.

- Give up and cry every night for the next week.

Sigh.

"A" for effort

Listen, I am trying to be a less judgmental person, okay? I can't help it though that so many people are so incredibly stupid.

my almost dog

Everything comes down to a daddy issue. Mine is that when I was four, my father said I could get a puppy, and then he took it back. I remember that incident as my first heartbreak.

22 years later, I finally have the means to get a dog, and I find the perfect one. He's 2 years old, part beagle and part lab, ridiculously handsome, well-behaved, house-trained and friendly. He also hates prissy little dogs, just like I do. So I'm all set to adopt him, when my stupid property manager at my supposedly pet-friendly apartment slams me with a previously undisclosed weight-restriction--I can only have dogs 25 pounds and under. Which essentially means I can only have a prissy little dog.

First, I'm furious that they didn't tell me this before I moved in, when I told them I was planning on getting a dog. And second, pathetically, I am actually really sad. It feels like I'm four all over again and someone is telling me I can't have the dog they said I could have. Except this time, I'm paying that someone $1200 a month.

a message to the former vice president

Dear Dick Cheney,

Shut the fuck up.

- UB

survival skills

Every time you move to a new city, the cycle is the same. At first, there is all that excitement over being in a new place. Then the weary realization that you have to rebuild your social network sinks in, and you become starkly aware that, for now, you are the only person you can rely on. This may explain why I somehow ended up watching a video on how to change a tire. I feel like even the reflexive web-surfing that results from boredom has survival instincts. Now that I know how to change a flat tire, it's official--I can totally take care of myself. Except when I am crying over a traffic ticket. Or leaving something burning on the stove. Or running my car into a pole.

magic space pocket

I have always imagined that there are pockets in the time-space continuum that are responsible for the loss of many of my personal belongings. That is the only explanation for why stuff like my socks, my underwear, and my pens end up inexplicably disappearing all the time.

This week, I actually found one of those pockets. Apparently, there was a giant hole in the lining of one of my purses, resulting in multiple items being sucked in between the inner fabric and the outer leather of the purse. So for months, when I thought I was imagining that my pens were disappearing in my purse, they actually were. Inside the lining, I found 12 pens, my business cards, my business card holder, 3 highlighters, 4 pencils, a parking ticket, and 8 dollars.

No wonder my purse always felt mysteriously heavy.

surrender

Goddammit.

I want a fucking Kindle.

thanks

I would like to thank the 1L I involuntarily met tonight for reminding me why I would never in a million years date a law student.

felipe's

Today, as I was walking around with my friends in New Orleans, I spotted a burrito restaurant called felipe's in the distance. It took a second for the recognition to register, but then it finally hit me--it was the same felipe's that was located near my law school, where my friends and I used to eat away our hangovers. Now, it is true that I hated many things about Cambridge, namely the weather, but felipe's was one of the things I truly loved about it. The flour tortillas they use must have crack in them because I would find myself fantasizing about those burritos in the middle of class. Having no real reason to ever go back to Cambridge, I somberly assumed that I would never again be able to satisfy the dehydrated craving created after a night of drinking with a delicious felipe's burrito. So you can imagine how I felt when I saw that familiar green and red sign transplanted from Cambridge to New Orleans, miraculously appearing before me after my best friend's wedding, a night after which a hangover was simply pre-destined.

The sheer joy that I felt when I saw the restaurant was ridiculous. No person should feel that much happiness at seeing a restaurant chain, but I felt like I was going to fly off the Riverwalk. I dragged my friends inside, ordered my usual, and dove in. Sure enough, it tasted the same. Ironically, as we were eating, the two friends who had shared my felipe's addiction in law school called me randomly. I think they could sense my hunger for felipe's calling like a bat signal. And the best part was, I was sitting at felipe's in March in seventy degree weather. Unheard of in Cambridge, where you always had to avoid sitting near the door if you wanted to still have feeling in your fingers. Perfection improved--who knew it was possible?

policy

I have a strict policy that I don't blog about work, ever.

Too bad all I do is work.

professional parent wanted

For the past few days since coming back to real life, I have been sitting in my bed literally surrounded by all the bills I have been ignoring. Car loans, insurance, student loans, credit cards, furniture loans, utilities, rent, cell phone--all the companies that own my life. When you have all of your 18 bills spread out around you, there is just no denying it: corporations own you. Every two weeks, I get a paycheck, and that paycheck goes directly to my creditors. It's almost like I don't get paid at all.

Is this what they meant by growing up? Totally lame. I want a refund. And I want a professional mommy who will take care of this crap for me. Except that would just be another bill I'd have to pay. Sigh. If only my real mom were around. She used to do this stuff for free.

fat

Having sudden free time is kind of like suddenly losing a lot of weight--you have to remind yourself that you're not fat anymore, because in your head, you're still a fat girl.

alumni

I met a guy who went to my undergrad. He was enthralled that he had run into a former classmate. "Didn't you think it was hard at first to adjust to leaving that academic environment?" he asked. "I mean, at school, you could always have an intelligent conversation with someone about the Odyssey or Herodotus, but the rest of the world isn't like that." He then took a sip of his White Russian.

"No," I said. "But I do think you are a huge douchebag."

Except I didn't say it, but I definitely thought it really loudly.

superiority complex

Sometimes, when I try to check the weather for LA, where I live now, I accidentally type in the zip code for Boston, where I used to live. When the screen flashes "26 degrees," I think, "Huh?" Then I think, "Oh." Then I think, "Ha!" Then I type in the correct zip code.

announcement

I would like to announce that I have a life again. My only connection with the outside world is no longer CNN.com.

Just wanted that in writing, in case I forgot.

temptation

I have been wondering why I feel such severe revulsion towards seeing Twitter and Kindle advertised all over the place in recent weeks, and I have finally figured it out. It's actually a revulsion I am quite familiar with--I had the same revulsion towards facebook, and the same towards blogging. It's the kind of revulsion that is coupled with the knowledge that if I were to give in, it would be totally over.

Please, Consumer Gods, I don't want to be addicted to another internet phenomenon! I don't want to contribute to the destruction of the print industry by starting to rely on an evil-ly convenient, handheld mechanism that makes electronic reading dangerously close to the real thing! I have been here before, and I finally gave in one way or another, and now at least a third of my time disappears into the blackhole of the internet. I can't take it anymore!

So stop plastering the web with your promotions, Amazon and Twitter! I am begging you.

Sincerely,
A Tired Consumer

existential time crisis

For a full ten seconds today, I experienced sheer terror because I actually forgot how old I was. In fact, I had to remember my birth year and calculate, but even then, I couldn't think of what year it was. I had to look at the computer.

For the record, I am currently 26.

jjajangmyun

Answering machine message from my family:

Mom: Hi honey! It's your mom. Are you there? You there?
Dad: [in background] She's not there. Hang up, she's not there.
Mom: Guess what we're eating? Jja--
Sister: [in background] JJAJANGMYUN!
Mom: Jjajangmyun. Well, we were just calling to see how you were doing because we miss you. Call us back when you get a break and--
Dad: [in background] Tell her not to drink.
Mom: What are you talking about. She's studying these days, she's not drinking.
Dad: [in background] Don't drink! Only one beer! [grabs phone] Hey, it's your dad. Listen, if you're going to drink, fine, but definitely don't smoke.
Sister: [in background] Don't drink either!
Dad: Okay? No smoking. Drink only one drink.
Mom: [in background] This jjajangmyun is soooo good!
[BEEEEP]

planning ahead

The first thing I would do if I lost my job and became homeless would be to steal a shopping cart from Ralph's.

manipuLAted

Today, I wasted two hours of my life, because the roads around LAX were apparently built by the same idiots who duct-taped the streets of Boston together, and I got lost. Each minute that passed, I got angrier and angrier because I had no idea where I was, and I was this close to verbally thrashing LA for constantly making driving a torturous experience, when suddenly the road ended, and everything changed. I had accidentally driven myself to the ocean, just before sunset.

Not bad, LA, not bad. You're not perfect. Your rain is less like rain water and more like a polluted ocean dumping itself on top of you. Your highways don't drain the water, so we end up driving through a stream, surrounded by bad drivers going 70 miles an hour against water so thick that we can't see past our windshields. But, if after two hours of driving me batshit insane, you inadvertently lead me right into a post-storm beachy sunset--well, I guess I can deal with that.

bored but no time

Chavez managing to successfully get rid of term limits: undo

Stimulus: no edits, for now

Bailout: redo, with more details

Split infinitive in item regarding Chavez: no edits

Burris confirmation: undo

Toyota collapse: undo

Flight 1549: no edits

Flight 3407: undo

Chris Brown beating Rihanna: undo

Octuplets mom: SERIOUSLY UNDO

Friday Night Lights: no edits

self-love is awesome

Here's what amuses me about the people who are afraid that doing the 25 Things note on facebook will make them appear narcissistic:

You are already on facebook. That means I at least know your name, what you look like, and what school you went to, three things I probably don't actually give a shit about (let's not even mention your terrible taste in movies or your lame favorite quotes, unless they are totally awesome, like mine, and if you can't see that, you should really think about getting a personality transplant).

I am also amused that the LA Times, the New York Times, and Time Magazine all did articles lamenting how annoying the note was and ended each article by writing 25 things about themselves in some form or another, whether it was 25 facts (LA Times) or 25 failed attempts to be clever (NY Times). At least the list in Time was legitimately hilarious, ironically because it was a list of actual things people had written in their 25 Things notes. Psst--listen, Claire, take it from an expert. Even if you are writing about 25 things you don't care about, you are still writing 25 things about yourself.

It's so brilliant. Because the best way to stick it to those narcissists is a) to feed their egos by addressing their behavior in the actual media, and b) to show them that if you do a 25 Things note in a publication while simultaneously disparaging it, it exempts you from being a narcissist.

Really. I am as impressed with these writers as I am with people who "don't friend people first, they always friend me."

oops

I just ate 900 calories worth of chocolate in one sitting.

UNDO UNDO

EH?!

I did not care about Chris Brown getting arrested until I found out he might have beaten up Rihanna???? How can you hit someone who said she'd always be your friend, she took oath, gonna stick it out till the end? What an asshole.

EMERGENCY

I NEED A COOKIE IMMEDIATELY

empty

In October, a new grocery store opened up in my neighborhood. Today, I went by, and half of its shelves were empty, seemingly in preparation for closing. I walked around inside to see what was left. Boxes of oranges, some growing moldy. Dusty bags of rice. Tubs of tofu, set to expire in two days.

I have known for weeks and months now that the economy is bad. I see it everyday in the anxiety of all my friends who work in the corporate world, in the struggles of my parents to keep their business afloat, in the news, on the radio, everywhere. But something about that store struck me in a way that these other things haven't. Maybe because there was an actual physical manifestation of emptiness. Piled up goods next to empty refrigerators. Three cars in a fifty-car parking lot. One cashier among eight cash registers. A "grand opening" sign hanging off a shelf holding nothing.

Whatever the reason, it was a sad spectacle. It's always sad to see a business fail, but worse when you saw it open too. No one wants to be a witness to a dream coming true only to see it destroyed in a matter of months.

word

"For sale: Baby shoes, never worn."
- A complete short story by Ernest Hemingway

The best writing is the simplest.

loser

Of all sports, I think baseball is the most boring, and now it seems that I am vindicated. Who wants to watch a sport where everyone is good because they are on steroids? Snooooore.

a new low

I think my boredom has reached epic proportions. Today, I actually looked through ecards that I think other people should send me. Some of you will be getting some links soon.

TWO AND A HALF WEEKS LEFT UNTIL I GET MY LIFE BACK.

aggghhhh!!

AAAGGGGHHHHH!!!

...

AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

...

GRAGHRAJFLRGWJAWSJOFKGNKCNQAHGURHG:AEJKAJFKLJFGFDIBJ:A!!!!

revenge of the dinosaurs

They found bird remains in Flight 1549, confirming that the plane was brought down a by a flock of birds. Now I am absolutely 100% sure that birds are the descendants of dinosaurs, because this was clearly an act of vengeance. One dominant species on another.

best. headline. ever.

Front page link on CNN.com reads:

Healthy kidney removed through donor's vagina

I am ten years old, and I think seeing "vagina" in a headline is funny.

my annual crass, baseless observation of the superbowl

I don't have a television, and I was too swamped with work to be able to go to a Superbowl party--so I had to watch the game by refreshing Sports Illustrated every time I heard the guys in the building across the street from me scream. A word of advice: do not watch sports online, unless you have a live streaming subscription. The last "minute" of refreshing is excruciating. Especially when the team you're rooting for just manages to pull ahead in the final three minutes after sucking for three and a half quarters and then gets pwned all over again with little more than thirty seconds to go.

Good effort, Arizona. Actually, it sounds like it was a terrible effort, but I wanted to be nice, because you lost.

my tribute to indiana

Back in the day, before my tragic year-and-a-half long hiatus (when people other than myself actually read this blog), I posted an entry bemoaning the fact that the Colts won the 2007 Superbowl. Now, looking back, I have no idea why I was rooting for Chicago because I unabashedly admit that I don't care about any sport besides basketball, and I especially don't care about football. It was probably for the same reason that I am rooting for the Cardinals tomorrow--one of my friends is from Arizona, and I don't give two constipation-inducing multi-vitamins about Pittsburgh (seriously, read those labels, they cause constipation).

The reason I am writing this is because unlike in 2007, I now know many people from Indiana, and some of them are even very good friends of mine. Further, as one of my new Indianian friends pointed out, Indiana did the right thing and went blue this year. So I feel that it is only fair that I repudiate my previous characterization of Indiana as a state that doesn't matter. It is only fitting that I do so on the night before the 2009 Superbowl--poetic timing, if you will.

With that in mind, here are the top five reasons why Indiana matters:

5) A lot of popcorn is grown in Indiana.
4) Indianapolis is the new Rome--more interstate highways connect in Indianapolis than any other city in America.
3) James Dean, possibly the hottest dead man under 5'8" of all time, was born in Indiana.
2) David Letterman, a decently funny guy, was also born in Indiana.
1) Okay, I admit, as I was searching every nook and cranny of the internet for remotely interesting things about Indiana, I thought, man, I wanna do you justice, but it is really hard to make you seem interesting (Really? Your state is responsible for the first successful goldfish farm? You used to be the home of the world's tallest woman?). But then I remembered--Indiana helped put Barack Obama in office. And that's way cooler than New York voting for Obama, because even God prefers the sheep that comes home after straying to the sheep that never strayed at all. So for that fact alone, Indiana is officially vindicated in my book.

Pittsburgh, on the other hand, is still irrelevant to me, and therefore, I hope the Cardinals win tomorrow.

puppy names

Two months ago, when I was this close to getting a puppy...

Mom: Name him Bella.
Me: Mom, it's a boy dog.
Mom: What about Honey?
Me: It's a BOY. A BOY.
Mom: Cutie?
Me: It has a PENIS.
Mom: (silence) I got it! Ball! Name him Ball.
Me: ...

I miss those days.

unfocused

The greatest threat is not pain or failure, but boredom--a glassy, oppressive wrap that suffocates. If it had a sound, it would be that music-lacking note you hear ringing in your head just before your vision goes white. It is a black hole of thought and consciousness. Powerful in its nothingness.

favorite word of the moment

parasol

deep breath

inhale

exhale

i can do this.

on hiatus. see you in march.

old

Okay, when did Dakota Fanning go from this to this? Seriously. I feel really really old.

bugs

The thing that sucks about finding a bug in the house when you live alone is not the fact that it's scarier when you are by yourself but that no one is around to witness, commiserate with, and reaffirm your disgust and terror. So when you are finally done shrieking, you always feel a little ridiculous. Maybe it just makes you realize that you are terrified by a tiny, ugly creature that is a trillion times smaller than you.

'nuff said

http://www.isgeorgewbushstillpresident.com/

:-)

finally, it begins

"Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter. And with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations."
- Barack Obama, President of the United States

Even from across the country, watching on a TV in the kitchen at work, it was awesome.

i just can't let it go

Every time I get miserable thinking about how I had tickets to the inauguration and the ball but couldn't go because I'm in the middle of something very important, I look at this, and it makes me feel a little better.

story of my life

My friend says this book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, reminds her of me. I wonder why.

bird strike

I have always wondered if there is ever a need for those life vests and rafts on planes. Looks like my question has been answered. A plane did a crash landing into the Hudson because each engine may have been put out by a bird. That shit is insane--who knew little birds could take down huge airplanes?

EDIT: I recognize that this is soulless, but I cannot stop cracking up about the birds possibly being Canada geese. This is probably the closest thing we'll ever see to a Canadian terrorist attack.

Too soon?

mood tanning

Back in the day (i.e. a few months ago), I used to run outside almost daily, thereby staying pretty tan. I run in rain, hail, sleet, or snow, whether it's 90 degrees out or -20 degrees out. That is how I managed to stay tan during Cambridge winters, and why everyone thought I went tanning at a salon (don't you know that only white people do that).

When I get really really busy, though, my running takes a backseat (and is sometimes ironically replaced by smoking, a disgusting habit that I kick for years at a time and then give in to for brief, godwilling, but stressful periods), so my tan fades. I haven't been running in almost two months. I'm naturally darker-skinned, so I'm never going to be freakishly pale, but you can always tell when someone has been out of the sun, no matter what their complexion is. It's a little sad, because when I'm this pale, I know I'm stressed. It's like I'm a mood ring--you can tell what's going on by what color I am.

Life is good, but I can't waiiiit for this to be over so I can change colors again.

oh. my. god.

My dream has finally come true. Finally, they will have a pill for those of us with bald eyes. This is way better than eyelash transplants, the only other option for having naturally longer lashes, which involves transplanting hair from your scalp onto your eyelid. The problem with that, of course, is that the hair on your scalp is not programmed to stop growing at a certain length, leaving you with hairy hairy eyes. Also, it's really gross. This pill is a great improvement. Too bad it's $120 a month. Really, on my list of priorities, if I had that much money to spend, I'd get cable first. After saving up for a TV.

elephants

After years of struggle, I have accepted the fact that elephants are my favorite animal. Why the struggle, you ask? Because they were also the favorite animal of my ex-boyfriend's first love, which obviously meant I hated them (I'm Korean, we're vindictive like that).

But the years have passed, and the old high school grudges have dissolved along with them, and it has finally became unavoidably apparent that elephants are the best animals in the universe. And it's not just because I actually got to see them in the wild in Namibia (although that contributed). They are independently awesome. Not only are they beautiful, but they are among the most intelligent animals in the world. They mourn their dead by honoring their bones, and they can recognize when they are looking into a mirror, which is supposed to be the quintessential sign for the ability to empathize.

They show affection for each other by twining their trunks together, which is adorable. They communicate through vibrations they feel in the ground with their feet. They've got to be the only vegetarians in the world who don't really have predators, since their sheer size protects them. But even though they're huge, they walk in complete silence. When we saw 50 elephants walk through the brush towards a waterhole in Etosha National Park (see picture), there was absolutely no warning because their steps were so quiet.

Oh, and almost half of them are gay. Clearly an advanced animal. Definitely would have voted for Obama.

side note

I would also like to mention that it was 80 degrees in LA today. In January. Suck it, Cambridge!

Also, I remembered to floss.

cynical sixteen

My sister always complains to me that she has to live in my shadow, which I admit is not the most pleasant of positions. It's not that I am so great (obviously)--it's that our parents have insane expectations, and thus far, I have somehow managed to stay just inside the lines of their vision of how their daughter should be (accomplished, of course, by extreme and frequent lying in my teens, and moving out in my twenties). By "just inside the lines," I mean by the skin of my teeth--I'm still too dark-skinned ("Stop tanning," says my mom. "That's for white people."), about ten pounds heavier than they would like, and although I went to Ivy League schools for undergrad and law school, I still ended up really liberal, much to my father's dismay. I also have not gotten to my duty of making Korean babies with a Korean doctor, most likely one who is 5'7" and wears glasses.

But beyond that, I try to explain to my sister that as much as I have managed to accomplish so many of the things I have wanted to, I have also failed at just as many. In fact, currently, I am fighting to overcome one of the most devastating failures of my life. The difference, I tell her, is between deciding to let the failure define you and giving it the finger. She doesn't believe me, based on her cynical sixteen years of experience. But she will. Because in ten years, when she's my age, and she's happy, in spite of the fact that she has to confront her failures everyday, she'll realize that it's a daily battle. And every morning is a new chance for you to decide that, today, you're not going to let failure win.

home

I love that I love coming home.

this blows

What do you do if you have two choices, and either choice you make will result in you possibly regretting something for the rest of your life. WHAT DO YOU DO.

sick humor

I recognize this is inhumane and cruel, but I find narcolepsy hilarious.

screwing up kids

Yesterday, as I was assembling my coffee table, I slipped while I was screwing in one of the legs. Consequently, I cut my finger on the edge of the table. So I did the obvious thing that a person living alone would do. I screamed, "FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU SCREWDRIVER! FUUUUUUCKKKKK!" Then I was embarrassed at how loud I was, and I was briefly terrified that one of my neighbors would call the cops, and then I would have to sheepishly explain that the only domestic violence going on in my house was between me and my screwdriver.

That's when I realized I need to learn to control my anger, even though I live alone. Because one day, that screwdriver will be one of my kids giving me a cut on my finger. And while the screwdriver can take it, I would really rather not scar my kids in a moment of heated, albeit justified, anger.

things i don't give a shit about

Profiles rarely ask us what we are NOT interested in, which I think is unfortunate, since I am relatively certain the things we don't care about reveal as much if not more about us than the things we do care about. For example, I don't give a shit about:

- Sports (except on rare occasion basketball)
- Law firm salary raises and/or bonuses
- American Idol
- Zach Efron and anything High School Musical related
- Rick Warren speaking at Obama's inauguration
- Twilight
- Watchmen, both the movie and the graphic novel (worst thing I have ever read, so overrated)
- Blackberries, iPhones, iPods, and any other gizmos designed to fill voids in life
- Birds, especially pigeons
- Cars
- Designer handbags
- Angelina Jolie

Now you know everything there is to know about me.

nuts

Nuts fascinate me. First, it is amazing that so much deliciousness can be squeezed into such a small package. Second, everything about nuts is good. The buttery taste, the hard-soft crumbly texture, the crunchy mute they add to enhance just about any dish (spicy noodles, soups, stir-fried chicken, banana sundaes, brownies, salads). They are hard enough to throw at people but not so hard that any real harm would be caused. Unless you're allergic, in which case you would probably die (no matter--all good things come with a price).

But what I really wonder is who was the genius who thought to pop a nut into their mouth in the first place. After all, at first glance, there is no way to tell how delicious a nut is. They don't have an intense smell the way fruits and meat do. They're pretty hard to the touch, so the first person to chomp down was surely risking the loss of a molar. Sure, squirrels eat them, but they also eat bugs, so that shouldn't be a green light. Whoever s/he was, they were clearly far advanced beyond their years.

I am obviously studying for something.

monsters

It's a new year, and my second night sleeping in my new apartment. No matter how much you prepare before you move in somewhere, there are somethings you just won't find out about a new place until you've lived there. Case and point--I have discovered that the ceilings and walls are very thin. Consequently, I can hear a lot of what is going on upstairs. And judging from the sounds, either a terrifying monster lives above me and eats children and has loud monster sex at night, or a young couple lives up there with a baby who likes to be chased around by someone making monster noises. Either way, one thing is certain--they are all wearing shoes made of cement.

Luckily, I am not all that bothered by noise. I lived above a karaoke bar in Washington Heights once. If I can fall asleep to the sound of drunken Irish men slurring the words to Elvis Presley songs, I can fall asleep to anything.