UPS Man.

Once upon a time (over the weekend) Susan was walking out of Panda Express with a friend after a super cool chat over super yummy orange chicken and chow mein, when they happened to walk past a UPS man in line ordering food.

Susan proceeded to giggle like a creeper because UPS men in their brown shirt and shorts located anywhere other than inside a brown UPS truck just happens to amuse her to no end. This also goes for mailmen located anywhere other than inside a USPS car. She knows not why; It’s just the most funnyfunky thang.

IT WAS THEN that she saw on the UPS man the craziest thing she never saw in her life that which will change her life FOREVER.



Mind is blown.

The End.

Sleepy Friday.

Preparing for system shut down.

Gramma.

This is my gramma. She is the tiniest, frailest, most emotional gramma you ever saw. She sheds tiny gramma tears every time I arrive at home for a weekend and again every time I leave. So when the grandchildren proposed to my sweet little gramma a friendly game of Go-Stop (a type of Korean poker?) just for fun, she said in her sweet little gramma voice that Go-Stop was no fun if not played for money. We figured that with our gramma being the tiny frail gramma that she was, not much could go wrong, and we’d all just have a cute little time together.


This is my gramma 10 minutes later after she’s PWNED us and stripped our little grandchildren pockets bare. We had definitely anticipated for her to be good at the game (most older Koreans are), but had not at all anticipated her to spontaneously combust into competitive fire as soon as she laid her tiny frail hands on the stack of little plastic red cards.We were, and are still, completely scared out of our wits and will likely not be proposing any more “friendly” games of Go-Stop again!

Dear Everyone,

Due to time constraints in my personal/work life and all my attention being suddenly channeled into a brand new blog-child, I am now no longer able to post on this blog on a daily basis (gasp!). Of course this will still remain my sole outlet for random drawings of absurd/awesome happenings/things, though now just more sporadically.

Sincerely yours,Susan

Vday.

In fifth grade, my best friend and I, in preparation for Valentine’s Day, each filled teeny little paper bags with chocolate complete with notes inside saying: “From: Your Secret Admirer”. The plan was to sneakishly stay in during recess, plant the secret valentine’s gifts in the respective crushes desks, and… I’m not sure what our 10 year old brains thought would come of giving an anonymous gift, but when the recess bell rang and everyone flooded back into class – the boys drenched in sweat from playing soccer, the girls with stacks of sticker books (totally the bees knees back in the day) in tow – I was so nervous I couldn’t breathe. Minutes stretched out like hours and years and the teacher was saying something about the solar system and I started most desperately to regret the day I was born. Out of the corner of my terrified eyes I saw the crush reach into his desk (cold sweats), discover the foreign object (hyperventilating), pull it out (near-seizure), read the note (silent screams of agony)… then say out loud, in the middle of class, while the teacher was still talking:

“SUSAN?” (brain short-circuits)

At a complete loss of what to do and feeling his (and the rest of the class’) eyeballs staring directly at me, I all but slammed my head on my desk and pretended to be asleep.

To this day I have no idea how he knew it was me.
I was so mortified I never talked to him again.

Yay.

Rescue.

Our awkward and occasionally friendly building owner to the rescue with giant Tupperware full of keys in tow! I must admit I was skeptical that he’d find it in there and thought he was just buying time because he didn’t want to call a locksmith. I just don’t trust non-food items stored in Tupperware containers. Or awkward and occasionally friendly building owners outfitted in skin-tight blue and green striped long sleeved shirts they may or may not have possibly been stolen right off a 12 year old boy’s back.


But after 30 minutes of testing keys, against all odds, find it he did!

Moral of the story: Don’t judge a Tupperware container by its contents… or an oversized Chinese man by his skin tight apparel. They may possibly be the ones to save and make your day.

Journey.

This is a photo of me on a treacherously treacherous journey…

To the ladies bathroom in the warehouse.

Our office’s bathroom doors like to occasionally make a sport of us by randomly locking itself when nobody is looking. Usually it’s the boys bathroom and they have enough collective bad boy history to break in with a credit card and paper clips, but when the ladies bathroom did it, their bad boy history powers were no match for the dratted lock, and that being the only ladies bathroom in the office, I have since (last Friday) been subjected to traveling ALL the way (gasp) to the ladies bathroom (wheeze) in the warehouse (boooooo)…

Meh.

Low supply of drawing juice means I’m not feeling too much like my usual (sure) creative and hilarious (lol) self at present … expect delays and irregularity ahead.

New Boots.

I was gifted a brand spanking new pair of awesome amazingly stylish bone-colored high-heeled peep toe cowboy ankle boots over the weekend (THANK YOU, E, I LOVE THEM!) and have since been desperately trying to figure out what to wear em with, as I’ve never owned ankles boots before, or anything bone colored either. In the meantime, I am happy to prance around in em inside the house and/or/also place them atop my desk and stare at em in admiration.

Doctor Visit.

For the very first time since my pediatrician demanded urine nearly two decades ago, my primary care physician demanded urine of me yesterday morning during a yearly physical checkup. Unfortunately for me, the exact moment the cup was placed on the counter was not even 30 minutes after I had already run to the bathroom to pee, but the nurse was adamant that I “try anyway” and I thus found myself back in the bathroom with a hopelessly empty bladder and hopelessly huge empty cup trying to somehow conjure my body into producing urine via mind control. It didn’t work.

Compliments.

Susan Speak Lesson 1
Spoken phrase: “omg~ stop it~”
Translation: “omg~ please do go on your flattering words are morsels of delishus delight to my brain OMNOMNOMNOM”