M.V.P.

With all the recent buzz about an impending earthquake in California, both J and my parents have been calling us to make sure we are stocking up on emergency water, food, and supplies. These calls have caused us to assess our home to provide protective measures for our most valued possessions…of which we have only one: Our still brand spanking new Samsung LCD TV. As a safety measure we moved our baby off the tv stand and onto the ground so as to reduce the potential risk of it falling flat on its pretty little 40’’ face.

The Art of Eating Alone.

The art of eating alone is a delicate craft rarely gifted naturally, but built up painstakingly through time and and grit. It requires thick skin and a nonchalant air with a complete disregard for any other human life forms in the vicinity. I myself, being of very thin-skinned construction, have only recently attained EAP(Eating Alone in Public) Level 2 which includes an upgrade from eating to-go food in the car to eating alone in fast food places, though this is restricted to lunches only.


Though a measly Level 2 (Highest level: 20), it still took me great amounts of strategamizing to get to this point, the greatest of all the tactics in my EAP arsenal being what I call:

THE GLAZE.


Instead of suffering and darting your eyes around trying to find a resting place for your gaze for the duration of your sammich, just look straight ahead, unfocus your eyes, and let em just naturally glaze over. You will immediately look deep in thought and be instantly free to eat with no awareness of anyone around you! J'AMAZING!


Sidenote: The unseemly side effect of looking like a total creep may possibly most likely definitely will occur.

Pimpo.

I don’t but rarely get pimples, but in the unpleasant occasion that I do, it’s always the hurting kind, and always for some reason under my bottom lip. Even pimples, those pesky things, are creatures of habit. Go away and stop crimpin my styyyle, man!

SPASCATPDA.

As the first order of business for this momentous first SPASCATPDA (Single People Againt Stupid Couples And Their PDA) meeting, I’d like to direct your attention, ladies and gentlemen, to a particularly atrocious form of PDA: The Outdoor-Mall-On-A-Rainy-Day-PDA. This PDA is especially jarring when it suddenly starts to rain without notice and one is left like a lone wet rat in the middle of the mall while couples, as if on cue, immediately start their rain-dance-super-love-PDA rituals in every which direction.

Outdoor mall on rainy day observations:


Figure 1: Couple one cutely shares an umbrella which boy has been carrying around all day and which has finally come into use. In order to stay dry, girl must cling to boy's arm like she’s sliding off the Titanic


Figure 2: Couple two boy makes up for not being adequately prepared with an umbrella by shielding himself and girl with his coat. Waterproofing effectiveness of this is questionable but manly points are at 100% with added bonus of bicep gun show opportunity.


Figure 3: Couple three runs hand in hand in the rain like some D-grade chick-flick giggling like a coupla ducks in a pond. It’s raining but who cares, they have each other and will be together forever and ever until the end of time or until one of them finds greener pastures.


Figure 4: Susan heads to car shielding own hair with shopping bag for fear that the acid rain will cause the rest of her already thinning hair to fall out.

As the self-appointed president of the SPASCATPDA (phonetic: spaz-cat-P.D.A), I’d like to push a law in which ALL couple PDA should be strictly limited to private spaces such as personal home, basement, and bat cave ONLY and pertains to all PDA including but not limited to: kissing, hand holding, sharing umbrellas, sharing coats, shooting lovey looks at each other, looking at each other, hugging, using pet names, talking, sitting together, standing together, and walking together.

The End.

Spring Rain.

I heart rain like a busy person with a nasty dirty car hearts free carwashes, like recently neglected winter clothing hearts receiving one last week to shine, like cold feet heart sitting cozy in them uggs.

Tiger.

This gem of a quote was uttered through the mouth of my sister Juice whilst we – as females are often wont to do – were talking at great lengths on the phone about how much we had both eaten for lunch and trying to out-self-deprecate each other for the main purpose of somehow mitigating the guilt we were both feeling about having just overeaten. With the quote above, she proved herself the winner, the original quote being something more like: “I’m so full and round right now a tiger could just grab and eat me and I couldn’t run away.” The hilarity of this quote is based on two things: 1) the implication that if she were not under the circumstance of having just overeaten, she’d naturally be able to outrun a hungry tiger, and 2) the thought of a tiger lurking around the suburban shrubbery of southern California preying on gluttonous little Asian girls. In any case, I am in love with this quote and will be adding it to my regular repertoire of annoying things to say after overeating with other favorite lamentations such as: “omg I ate so much you don’t even understand” and “I wish I could split my stomach open and empty it out” and “If only I could go back in time and eat that meal again but this time I wouldn’t eat as much of it.”

Vitamins.

Mi padre is a huge vitamin junky and never wastes a chance to infringe his views upon me. He even bought me a gigantic bottle of Centrum from Costco that is currently quietly rotting away in one of my drawers somewhere I think maybe. So finally the other day I buckled under the pressure, though instead of looking for that ol giant bottle of Centrum, I bought myself a bottle of Target-brand Adult gummy vitamins. I believe the yummy awesomeness of the gummies in conjunction with the Placebo effect paired with the ignorantly dogged determination that these are good for me will indeed induce the same vitapowers as taking a daily Centrum.

Spring Forward.

Three cheers for Daylight Savings Time and longer days! I am for some reason having the worst time adjusting (body falls asleep an hour later but wakes up an hour earlier, dangnabit!) but it’s worth it!! – For the extra hours of sunlight, yes.

Public Recognition.

This is the friendly man behind the counter that always greets me when I go in for my lunch-time Yogurtland fix. In my head I call him the Yogurtlandman. I pay him for yogurt and yogurt makes me happy, therefore I pay him to make me happy.


After a certain point, the yogurtlandman stopped greeting me with "Welcome" but "Welcome back". This was not a random occurance because he'd greet anyone else I happen to walk in with a "Welcome" and single me out with the "Welcome back."
It was strange, but I let it slide.


Then one day after greeting me with my "Welcome back" he said MORE things. Creepy things. Intimate things.


I hate I hate – And oh, did i mention? – I HATE being recognized in public places by strangers. It is absolutely mortifying. I feel like all my secret little habits and likes and dislikes have been discovered and disclosed to the world. I feel terribly and humiliatingly exposed. Admittedly, being the creature of habit that I am, it probably was not entirely hard to single me out (Girl in pink sunglasses, Yogurtland at 12:40pm on weekdays, pays with same red BOA checking card)…but nonetheless!!!

So yesterday I went to Golden Spoon during lunch because I was still too embarrassed to face the yogurtlandman who now knows my name and probably my address and probably everything else there is ever to know about me ever. I was happy to find that none of the goldenspoongirls recognized me. I then popped over to Foreign Exchange for a gander and:

THE FOREIGNEXCHANGEMAN RECOGNIZED ME.