To die for fashion

August 25th, 2010

Bebe Sterling Animal Print Wedge in white leopard
(see them on Zappos)

I bought these amazing shoes at Macy’s this weekend. Actually, I wasn’t going to buy them at all, but I wore them around the store for 10 minutes while I shopped for more reasonable shoes and couldn’t find anything else that I loved as much as these. And I still wasn’t going to buy them because they were absurdly high.

My husband, bless his heart, waited patiently while I looked at shoes. Really patiently because if I was in his place, I would’ve said screw you, I’m leaving, but he’s more of a man than I am. And he, of all people, convinced me I should buy them if I really wanted them — provided the price wasn’t too steep (they didn’t have a price tag on them). And he said it to me more than once even while I was trying to talk myself out of indulging.

So I bought them. They were the very last pair (luckily they were my size :) and were on sale for $32! I got them for $25 out the door with a Macy’s coupon. Even though I knew I’d hurt myself in them, I couldn’t pass up that deal.

Walking around a flat, showroom floor is one thing, but walking in real life in those things is quite another. Saturday night when I went out with my friends for birthday celebrations, I tweaked one ankle trying to sort of jog to catch a cab (bad idea #1). Then I tweaked the other ankle walking on cobblestone (bad idea #2). And then was pretty much too scared to walk without someone else’s arm. But you know what? It was all totally worth it because at the end of the night while I was hobbling down a steep street in Nob Hill, some girl yelled out of her car, “I like your shoes!” No one has ever yelled that at me out of a moving vehicle before.

The smell of her hair

August 13th, 2010

I found this box of shampoo today. A small UHaul box full of shampoo bottles. I think my sister must have gathered all the shampoo in the house and put it in a box to donate to somewhere and then left it in the garage. And every time I walk by it, the smell reminds me of my mom.

It’s sort of funny to think about how cheap the shampoo is. I’m sure there are only that many bottles in the house because she got them dirt cheap on sale somewhere. Dirt cheap shampoo on sale for even cheaper. It’s funny because she liked to dress in Chanel and St. John, carried Louis Vuitton and Gucci purses (the genuine article, not the knock offs). And she took care of her skin with any number of department store brands, but her hair — eh, her hair could stand the cheap stuff.

And now that I think about it — it makes sense. Because our hair is pretty sturdy stuff. Thick and heavy and silky. I guess if you had to skimp on any particular beautifying product, the hair would be the most reasonable choice when it’s as luxurious as ours. Every little penny counts. My mother is quintessential proof of that.

Won’t you be my neighbor?

July 29th, 2010

My Frontierville homestead
My homestead. That’s me, my honey, and our little girl (mini me!) near our cabin.

Let me just preempt your judgment, caveat the statement soon to follow, and add this proviso: I am not a gamer. I have played games in the past, but am easily bored of them and soon neglect whatever game on whatever platform I’ve ever played. Except for Frontierville: I am a Frontierville addict.

When I was in Japan the only thing I missed was Frontierville. Not my husband, not my friends, but Frontierville. Please note that I did miss my husband and my friends, but there wasn’t anything I could do about not seeing them while I was out of the country. On the other hand, I had access to internet! I could have played Frontierville! If I’d only bought a netbook instead of an iPad!

I started playing Zynga games a couple of months ago because friends and family work there. I started with Farmville and Mafia Wars. Games I’ve seen other FB friends post statuses about on their walls. I have always scoffed at these posts as wastes of space on my FB home page (I now post Frontierville updates…oh how low we have sunk).

Then Frontierville launched in early June. I started playing. Soon I stopped caring about Farmville or Mafia Wars. Frontierville was better than either of them.

What’s the crack? It’s easy to learn, easy to play, and every single time you play you feel like you’ve made progress. There are little tasks you have to complete and the more experience you have, the harder the tasks get (as in you have to collect harder to find things and/or more items to complete a task). But no matter how long a particular task might take to complete, there are other tasks you can complete faster, and whatever you do, you’re always moving forward on your homestead. It’s instant gratification.

The cows are hungry? Oh, let’s feed them! The crops are ready? Let’s harvest! Oh, we have free land? Let’s plant stuff! Let’s buy stuff from the market and make our homesteads prettier! Let’s clear this patch of land for a new building! Let’s buy baby animals! More baby animals! Moo!

The graphics are better than in Farmville and where I find my farm ugly and inhospitable, I find my homestead perfectly suited to me because I made it all my own. I can literally just stare at my homestead and genuinely enjoy looking at it (though it did take me some weeks to get it to that point).

I play every single day, and usually several times a day. When I wake up, it’s the thing that perks me up out of my morning funk. When I need a break, I go burn a couple of minutes on my homestead. When I’m at home, my honey and I sit next to each other and play on our homesteads (when he’s not playing one of his other games). Once a day I spend at least 30 minutes on it tending to my neighbors and sending them gifts. Every single thing I do earns more points and coins. I haven’t spent a single real dollar on the game (I’m not allowed to), but have bought an assload of things for my homestead.

This is probably the longest blog post I’ve written in forever and it’s about Frontierville! This is me — a non-gamer who used to pride myself on my aloofness to mass market games like Farmville…well, that used to be me. (Don’t forget to add me as a neighbor! :)

Takayama is amazing

July 2nd, 2010

I love this small town. I loved Tokyo and Kyoto too but I think after a week of big cities, Takayam was a perfect place to come to. I decided on a whim to come here a dY or two before we arrived and I can’t remember what it was that drew me here but whatever it was I’m glad I came.

Takayama is full of historic buildings so it has a very quaint and charming feel to it. It’s also small so virtually everything is about 10 minutes from the main train and bus station ( the two are next to each other ) either by foot or by bus. They have th is city mascot type doll that is called a baby monkey that grandmas used to make for their families for various types of good luck — marriage and family, scholarly success, financial success, etc. It is the cutest thing ever (I’ll post a photo when I can).

And the local cuisine is interesting. First there’s the local Hida beef which is amazing. Then there’s the rice flour balls on a skewer cooked with what tastes like soy sauce on a grill. You can find them everywhere — at the morning market it’s 60 yen. At the corner stands they’re 70 yen and you can smell them cooking on lots of these streets. The same with the smell of Hida beef grilling coming out of restaurants here. There are also bunches of small vendors that sell meat on a stick like Hida beef and ostrich and they grill it in front of you when you order it (the ostrich was gooooood). There’re are also lots of places th at sell little steamed buns with Hida beef in the middle. Mmmmmm….the beef is soooo good. Nice and fatty and delicious. I had a Hida beef steak last night for dinner and it was so tender and delicious and flavorful.

There’s also water everywheree. The Miya-gawa and the Enako-gawa rivers run through the city so there are tons of little bridges and the rushing of water and it adds to the city’s charm.

Josh was sick most of today so I wandered around by myself — he wasn’t sick enough that I couldn’t leave him — and it was nice to wander without feeling bad if i got lost and walking around without any direction – just going where the prettiest streets took me. I visited some museums, two lovely coffee shops, and wandered through the quaint streets and loved it. And Josh was fine by dinner time :)

Japanese women are styling

July 1st, 2010

One of the things I love about Japan is how stylish the women are here. Their outfits are flattering and attractive and often unique. I love everything about their style here — the hand towels, the umbrellas for sun and rain, those enormous visors, their love of hats, their sun shielding arm bands, and most of all their socks.

It’s so humid here, a lot of people carry around little towels or hankerchiefs. I went into my first department store in the Kyoto train station and couldn’t believe how many little towels they had. They vary in size but are usually larger than an American washcloth, but smaller than a hand towel. Men and women both carry these, though I haven’t seen as many women just carrying them in their hands as I have the men. And designer labels make them. I bought a Laura Ashley one on sale. But high end designers like Burberry even design these little sweat towels for the Japanese market.

And their socks! We in the states get a handful of little toe and footsie nylon type socks for our heels and pretty shoes, but here the sock itself can be a stylish element of footwear. They complement the shoe and are meant to be seen. I was astounded and excited to see the immense number of socks in the sock stores in Harajuku. Our footsie socks are plain, drab nude or black. In Japan they come in every color you can imagine, they have little bandaeu socks, they have faux socks that scrunch but don’t cover the whole foot, they glitter, they shine, they have buttons and ribbons and all sorts of embellishments. They have little socks that look like Mary Janes. I saw a woman on the Metro wearing black flats with no strap, but wearing red socks with a strap and glittering little buttons sewn on the strap. It added some cute flash to her bland shoes. And you can change up your socks and make your shoes look different and it costs less!

I also love how stylishly they keep safe from the sun. Japanese women seem to love hats. Their hat stores are amazing and full of a wide variety of hats, including really beautiful, large visor hats for sun protection. I’ve seen women in the states wearing these on occasion — usually Asian women — but the ones I’ve seen in the States are rather unattractive. Here they can be as nice as the nicest hat. I’m so bringing one home and wearing it everywhere in the Mission. I’m also bringing home arm guards! They’re arm warmers except they’re meant to shield from the sun. Again, they have these in the States, but the ones I’ve gotten there are for the cold — not suitable for humid heat. Here they’re light and airy and some are long enough to cover your hand and have a cute little ribbon at the wrist. I love them for that. I hate being exposed to the sun as much as they do. And sunscreen is nasty sticky.

Hello from Japan

June 28th, 2010

I’ve already lost track of the days but here we are in Kyoto! And we have wifi at the hostel. For a super techie country, it’s been hard to find wifi that works for us. I thought I could easily buy a prepaid 3G card for the shiny new ipad I bought especially for this trip. The ipad i thought would be so great because: don’t have to take it out at airport security, can buy 3G data plans by the month, can type pretty well when it’s rotated to the side so I can blog, dump photos onto it, can read books on it, and it’s lighter and smaller than a laptop for everyday carrying around.

Well it is lighter than a laptop. And I can play games on it and read. But airport security not only randomly patted me down, but also made me take my iPad out and ran my carry on bag back through the scanner. And that was after the security line we were originally in got shut down for some unknkown reason and we had to walk to another gate to go through security and I was starting to get scared we’d be late for our flight because everything at LAX took a bazillion times longer than i thought it would.

Then there was the problem of getting an affordable pre-paid 3G card in Japan. I’d read that it was possible in Japan but should have done more research to be sure because it’s sort of expensive and I’m not sure I need it that much. And Apple hasn’t come out with their USB adapter for the iPad yet so no dumping photos from my memory cards, and of course, no blogging unless there’s wifi somewhere that I can use and this hostels the first place I’ve been able to.

But no complaints! Because it’s actually kind of nice to be disconnected. I don’t waste my time blogging :) Let’s see…the Harajuku girls, the maid cafe, the cute rockabilly girl (and boys) in Yoyogi park, the onsens, the manga museum, the cute hidden alleys full of lovely things, Japanese food, and walking everyday and seeing something new and different…and that’s just the start of our visit! Yeah, really can’t complain.

It pays to be a good driver

May 19th, 2010

I had to run to the DMV today because the guy at AAA didn’t seem to be able to help me — he told me I owed 2 years worth of registration fees on my Ninja! I told him he was crazy! Well the DMV told me the same thing and so I just paid them and filed for an address change for my license and registered vehicles. BTW, Santa Ana DMV was amazingly fast. The California DMV website lists the wait times for various local DMV offices and the wait time listed for non-appointment drop in visitors at the Santa Ana DMV (23 minutes) was spot on. I was impressed.

Last week when I was driving up to San Francisco, I got pulled over for speeding at 90mph. The speed limit on I-5 is 70 so I wasn’t going crazy fast, but I was driving faster than I normally do. Even though I’ve got that shit hot car, I usually drive about 80, maybe 85mph up to and down from San Francisco. Don’t ask me why I was doing 90. It didn’t feel any different than 80 and it was early in the morning and traffic was light, the sun was up by the time I got pulled over (at 8am) and I was about halfway to my destination and feeling really happy. So 90…maybe that was just a sign of contented happiness on my part.

I am a good citizen. I don’t do anything illegal and I hardly ever get pulled over. So somehow that makes me extremely anxious about cops. They literally make me sweat and shake. When I got pulled over, I had to really focus to keep my hands steady as I handed him the requisite paperwork because I’m not only terrified of cops, but I’m terrified they’ll know I’m terrified because that has got to be a sure sign of guilt about something.

But I acted calmly and handed him my paperwork. He took it to his car and I waited for about 10 minutes for him to look up various things about my person. And when he came back, he gave me a present! Look, your driving record is totally clean so I’m just going to give you a warning about your speed and give you this fixit ticket for your change of address on your driver’s license. I was shocked! Then he smiled and said, my brother-in-law has one of these cars. I know how they can get away from you sometimes. I thanked him profusely, called him sir, and wished him an excellent day.

People seem to love these cars. Anyone who knows anything about cars gets really excited about my car. I randomly met a guy who produced shows for the Speed network and he gets to play with all sorts of cars — even he loved my car. And he loved that a girl was driving that car. It made me puff up my feathers and preen myself a bit, I was so flattered when he said that. And people who know people who have STis seem to love them too. It’s such an odd thing to own something that other random people love as much as I love.

But back to that cop. I was surprised at his the kindness of his gift. I was really, really excited — he saved me hundreds of dollars, and saved me a whole day of traffic school. I think people should always pay forward acts of kindness. I remembered this when I got to the toll booth at the Bay Bridge and paid for the random person behind me. But I guess I should have paid for the next 100 people behind me. I still owe for that cop’s kindness.

Itching to ride

May 19th, 2010

I got my bike back from the shop today and was so excited about taking it for a little ride, but I couldn’t buy a helmet off the rack. They just don’t stock them in my size! Plus I forgot that the registration sticker on it is from 2006 and even though it’s legally registered, I seemed to have misplaced my 2010 sticker.

Since I’m in Southern California, I couldn’t go to one of the gear places I know of up north to buy my helmet. I picked up my bike at Mission Motorsports in Irvine, but didn’t get a chance to look at helmets while I was there because the tow truck driver was waiting for me (no helmet, no ride). So when I got home I checked on Yelp for a place to get gear near my place. Not a whole lot of options turns out. Which I find weird because in San Francisco alone, I can think of at least 2-3 places I can go to for gear, plus the Cycle Gear and Road Rider stores in San Jose. So based on reviews, I picked OTD Orange County Motorsports to buy my helmet, but the guy there (who was very helpful) said they had almost nothing in stock because they were waiting on new inventory. And nothing at all in my size. I thought my head was big, but apparently that’s just wishful thinking cause I wear an XS.

I asked the guy at OC Motorsports where else I could go for helmets and he could only come up with Mission Motorsports (and he told me they got the new helmet models in before he did) so I went back there. I was really impressed with the girly helmets they have available now. And was turned onto Scorpion EXO which is a relatively new brand I’d never heard of before, but they make lots of nice looking women’s gear including both pretty and badass girly helmets (very reasonably priced compared to a Shoei or an Arai).

Brooklyn at the Mission Motorsports was really helpful and I ended up with another Shoei helmet: the somewhat new RF 1100 (Sylvan TC-9). Seems to have gotten lots of good reviews so I can’t wait to get it. I like that it’s light in color, but not solid white like my old one. I wanted something with a little more style and flare this time — something sexier like this:

They didn’t have it in the size or color I wanted/needed so I had to special order it. Hope to get it by Friday so I can go for a ride. All I want to do is go for a little ride. Just a little ride, mommy, please!

Time is worth more than money

May 7th, 2010

I was a poo-head and forgot to take a photo of the bike to post before the tow guy came and picked it up. It went to Mission Motorsports. They’re charging me $78 for a new battery and a courtesy $17 service fee to charge and install it. I can buy a new battery for $50 and I can charge it for free and it’d take me less than 5 minutes to install it. But what’s that time worth to me? The hassle of buying the battery online, waiting for it to get shipped, having to get my battery tender from SF…not worth $45.

It’s like getting an underarm wax. Is it worth saving 10 bucks to wait a week? Not if you’re in Southern California and you’ve been growing out your pit hairs for over a week just so you can get them waxed. Over a week of not being able to wear tank tops or sun dresses or strapless outfits, and having to wear a t-shirt at the gym when you work out because god forbid anyone sees your armpit hair and think you a smelly hippy. Not that there’s anything wrong with smelly hippies if that’s what you are.

Ready to ride!

May 6th, 2010

It was a gorgeous day in Southern California today and I had ants in my pants. I think I just wanted to be out enjoying the sun and do some people watching. I was running around in the car today itching badly to go for a joy ride down PCH, but I didn’t. The new car gets bad gas mileage and I have green guilt. Besides, that’s not what I really wanted to do. What I really wanted was to get out on a motorcycle and cruise PCH and to feel the wind rush over me.

My little EX250 has been sitting here in my mother’s garage for three to four years. I think it’s time to ride her again. Today I washed and waxed her — just because she’s been sitting around unloved and unused doesn’t mean she should go to the dealership looking like anything less than the gorgeous princess she is. She is so clean and smooth now. I’ve been petting her freshly waxed gas tank.

Next week when I come back, she’ll be all tuned up and I’ll have my gear and her current registration stickers and she’ll be ready for the open road again. I cannot wait! She and I are going to tear up PCH together.

Reminds me…

May 5th, 2010

I love the animation in this video. The music is catchy, the lyrics…not so crazy about them, but they remind me of my mommy.

Like mother, like daughter

March 31st, 2010

I’m back in socal cleaning out my mother’s house. It’s an endless chore and I make slow progress. What’s been interesting to me lately is discovering how some of my behaviors are inherited from my mother even though I might have never known they were her behaviors (or at least not consciously been aware of knowing). For example: saving receipts. Like every single receipt for everything, and organized by year. I’ve decided finally to start shredding old receipts — anything not from the current year — but apparently my mother didn’t own a shredder. I’ve found 20 year old receipts. In fact, lots of other 20 year old documents. And receipts and documents for all the years since then too.

I found this binder the other day full of magazine and newspaper clippings. Which is a new habit of mine — instead of keeping whole magazines, I rip out the few pages I want to keep and organize them in a binder. I guess I got that from my mom too.

It’s amazing how much of someone’s life you can piece together by her accumulated bits of paper: travel routes via gas receipts, favorite foods by restaurant receipts, personal interests by saved clippings. Some of it I save because sometimes I discover something new or because I want to remember some moment with her, but most of it I shred. Because I’m trying not to be a hoarder.

Clowns are always scary

January 16th, 2010

Especially little doll clowns. Think Chucky. Now he’s not a clown, but he’s only a little bit of makeup away from it. Why on earth do clowns scare us? And given that they’re scary, why on earth are they children’s entertainment?! Clowns only make sense on Dia de Los Muertos when dressed and painted up as they are, they can confuse the wandering dead to save humankind. Otherwise, they are freaky — just imagine someone walking around in a Halloween costume all year long. That’s what clowns are. Big freaking scary monsters with too much red on. Red is the color of hate and evil and blood. That’s what clowns are covered in from head to toe. Red. Blood. *Shiver*.

I am easily amused. I’ve been threatening to get rid of cable TV for like a year now. You know what I’m going to miss the most? The commercials. Not all of them, just the good ones. Like this one.

I love words

January 14th, 2010

Clearly, I love words. And I love any use of language that makes me laugh. Especially when it includes lots of dirty words — because words aren’t inherently dirty; it’s the way you use them that makes them so. I’ve only seen this commercial once on TV recently, but it’s been on YouTube for 2 years so it’s not new. But my gosh it’s funny. Just listen to the actual words they’re using. My favorite is lint licker and cootie queen. Oh my god does that sound dirty. It just goes to show you that the right sized word with a hard beginning, middle or end (or any combination of the afore) and said in the right tone can make even the most mundane words (like kumquat) sound dirty and bad.

Birthday GRE

January 5th, 2010

I took the GRE about 2 weeks ago on my birthday and just got my scores today. Well, I saw them when I finished, but got my analytical writing scores for the lame ass essays I had to write. Shockingly low scores. Or, I should say the scores themselves are OK, but the percentile ranking seems awfully low given the scores.

I’ve heard the computer adaptive test, you know, adapts to the way you answer you questions so if you answer incorrectly, the next question is easier and vice versa*. So imagine my horror when over half way through my verbal test, I get a question with “disappointment” as one of the words. Now, I can’t tell you the actual question, but the word in the analogy was on par in difficulty with “disappointment.” I was heartbroken. I thought, holy god, how could I have fucked up this badly on the test so far that they have to give me baby words?!

But it turned out to be ok because I got the scores I wanted to get on both sections. In one week of studying, I boosted my combined GRE scores over 300 points so that week of studying was well worth it. I focused on practicing math problems over and over again and learning new vocab. I had some old Kaplan GRE workbooks and used those to study, but I wonder how much, if anything has changed in the past decade. I think the books I had came from early 2000.

Not that I care anymore cause I doubt I will ever have to take the GRE again! Woohoo!

* I say “I heard” because the GRE books I studied from were old. I have no idea if the current GREs are the same, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would say they were the same.

The mind fuck of coupons

December 18th, 2009

Let’s face it, more of us are cutting coupons nowadays. It’s something I used to do with my parents when I was little. Something I still occasionally do, but now I do it semi-regularly. But they’re sort of a mind fuck really. Of course, no one wants to pay full retail price, but sometimes you’re lured by the “value” of a deal into buying crap you don’t really want or need. Just because it’s a bargain somehow justifies the purchase.

Case in point: Macy’s sent me these 20% off all day, one day coupons. They basically want you to shop all day and use this coupon. I get it. And between the holiday sales and the coupon, you could buy a lot of stuff not at retail price. But I’ve been really busy lately with graduate school applications and haven’t had time for shopping, so I basically forced myself to shop on Wednesday. Not only was it their “last” One Day Sale, but I had used the 20% off coupon and now I’d have to use it as many more times as I could that day to get the full value of it. So I have a crappy day of shopping when I don’t want to shop, and I end up spending more money than I want to because it’s a “bargain.” And I love bargains — I went to the ballet this week with the Mr and he asked if I was wearing new pants. Nope, just pants I’ve had for years and have never worn before. Cause I like to buy shit on sale. Whether I’m going to use it or not.

The other problem with coupons is that sometimes I use a coupon and actually spend more money. For example, Target sends me coupons. I <3 Target, but they’re inconvenient to get to so I don’t go there as often as I might if they were closer. I sometimes buy items I wouldn’t normally buy just because I have a coupon for it. Little things like their Archer brand snacks, or home & beauty products I don’t normally use. The crazy thing is that sometimes I pay more for a particular item (like brand name feminine hygiene pads) because I have a coupon for it when I would actually pay less just buying the Target brand like I normally do. I know; it’s completely illogical! But I’m telling you, the psychological effects of coupons is complex and devious.

I am quite seriously considering going back to my irregular and not very frequent use of coupons to retain my sanity about shopping.

Ah, the shopping season…what torture

December 4th, 2009

I hate shopping for Christmas. It’s so much pressure to come up with the perfect gift. Or not even the perfect gift, how about just any gift that the recipient will actually and genuinely enjoy. I usually want to give up year after year. I know I’m like years behind, but last month I started an Amazon wish list because sometimes I do things I wish other people would do. I wish everyone I had to shop for at Christmas had a freaking wish list!!

I was reviewing my list last night so I could email my loved ones and was thinking to myself what a random mix of stuff it was. I mean, it’s all stuff I want and I purposely picked items in a range of prices, but I wonder if it takes the fun out of getting Christmas gifts because it takes away the element of surprise.

In recent years, I’ve begged family members to send me Christmas wish lists and sometimes I look at the things on there and think…I can’t get them this as a Christmas present — it’s too practical, or not special enough. My father is the worst to shop for. He has everything he needs, doesn’t send a list, and never intimates he has an especial desire for anything. And this year I missed his birthday because I was out of the country and now I have to make sure his gifts are doubly wonderful. My sister is the best at giving gifts; she always pleasantly surprises me with something. Special too is when you get an unexpected gift from a family member — that’s always sweet.

I’d like to put cash on my Christmas list. I think we Americans are too ambivalent about cash gifts. Other cultures seem to think nothing of it, but we seem to think it’s a cop out or impersonal, and only gift it when specifically asked for it. I say cash is the universal gift. Give it freely people. I’ll distribute it equally into in my writing fund, my whisky fund (almost the same as my writing fund), my new car fund, and my bathroom remodel fund. But before I do that, I’ll buy a drink and toast you for your special gift.

And in case you thought I had no holiday cheer, I leave you with one of my very, very favorite holiday songs. I listen to this song every year and I love both the original Vandals version and the No Doubt one below:

Where my gifts, Santa? I’ve been good.

November 27th, 2009

I saw this commercial today and loved the song and tried to find it online, but it turns out it’s not a real rap song (though it should be!) Comedian Maria Bamford did a series of Target ads for their 2-day sale. I don’t know who she is, but she’s on my radar now. The commercial is awesome.

Lyrics:
Where my gifts, Santa? I’ve been good. Better bring me sport equipment like you should! Where you at Santa? I ain’t playin’. I’ve got a nice crib to park your sleigh on. Where those elves, where your wife? You bring me the fancy electric knife. You don’t know me Santa. I’ve been good. I’ve got plenty of milk and cookies in my hood. Fa la la LA LA. Ho ho ho. Fa la la LA LA. Ho ho ho.

One night in Bangkok…

November 23rd, 2009

…makes a hard man humble” And my last night in Bangkok certainly did. So I’m blogging the trip in reverse almost. At least I hope to. You know I kept that paper blog during my trip. What did the ancients call it? Oh, a diary.

By the time I got to Bangkok for my last night before my flight home I was almost desperate for some company. Just someone I could speak some fucking English to. Those 21 hour bus rides and over night trains — no one to talk to. On the local buses I took, I was the only person that didn’t speak Lao. By the time I got to Bangkok, I was absurdly lonely. And for a big, confident, self assured gal, being absurdly lonely is…absurd.

Isaac and Kerry told me they’d gotten prettied up in Bangkok before they went back to the states. So I went to mall. I’d avoided it in Laos because I was busy looking at other things, but I do enjoy checking out malls in different countries so I went to the mall Isaac suggested. Indulged in some Thai underwear because Asian bras fit me (cause I’m Asian) and I spent less than $50 USD for 2 pairs of bras and 2 pairs of matching underwear — unheard of at Victoria’s Secret (and yet they were just as sexy).

I wore my cleanest dress. The one dress I’d brought for special occasions. The one I’d never worn before. It’s a travel dress; I bought it on sale at REI. It’s not that sexy. But at the end of the evening when I ended up at an Australian pub across the street from my hotel (only cause I knew there’d be English spoken there and they were playing MotoGP on one of their big screens), drinking Jamie’s all alone…the one guy who finally talked to me said he thought I was a Thai whore until he heard my English.

I guess part of me has to be proud that I could even pass for a Thai whore.


Procrastination…is updating your blog

November 20th, 2009

I found this on someone’s blog and this is so the bane of my life.