Shoutouts

Thank you Cheesecake Factory, for making me wait in line just to find out $1.50 cheesecakes were for dine-in guests only, and waiting time to dine-in was close to 2 hours. Screw you, I'm eating Korean Tofu.

Thank you egg, for burning my chin this morning when i was trying to fry you.

Thank you "The Hills Season 3" for giving me unrealistic expectations of fashion and life. My ideal is now Brody Jenner (good looks, unlimited wealth, and the son of a celebrity aka major hook-ups).

So a few days ago, as I was perusing the bestseller display at B&N, I came upon Chelsea Handler's new hardcover. I had heard fabulous things about it from Amazon.com, and so I sat down with it and dug into a few chapters. I laughed, I cried, I walked out 3 hours later with a new lease on life.

I now feel good about myself. There are people in the world who are more effed up than me, who can make it to the top. I no longer have qualms about my puny love life, my lack of tanning abilities, or whatnot, knowing that at least I haven't gotten a DUI, only to be caught for using a fake ID, sent to a Women's State Penitentiary, and forced to bunk with a murderer. As much as life bores me sometimes, I am not THAT desperate for a little action.

Countdown to summer school begins now, 2 days til I move into my apt, 4 days til I start classes. Still job-hunting and internship-hunting. Life is peachy.

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Web-hopping. Better than club-hopping. Wait...what!?!

Today,

I was so stationary, I can make a mindmeister of everything that went through my head.
That's saying something, since when your walking, your thoughts tend to dissipate quicker...my own special theory.

Is Google taking over everything or what?!! My RSS feeds are telling me so, but heck Youtube? Blogger!?! Digg?!!!! Everything is log-in-able with my gmail account. This is tyranny I tell ya! Soon Google will be taking over my online shopping. (unless they haven't already?! amazon, are you not telling me something?). Besides they already know where we live with all the Google Earth bizness. Frankly, I'm afraid for my privacy and my life in this wiretapping society.

OO...that leads me to Harold & Kumar: Escape From Guantanamo Bay. Except for the obscene objectification of women (aka nudity everywhere), I rather liked it. I'm hesistant to admit, I let out a few fan-girl gasps of excitement during Roldie's parts. Plus, G.Dubb. was in it, and what an accurate portrayal of the blundering fella. Sometimes movies like these are the only things that dare to say what we secretly wish we could but don't, cuz it's all about being PC. Well, this is the very antithesis of PC and kosherness. So watch it, cuz you know you wanna.

I bought some opal jewelry off eBay today. Made me feel all warm and tingly.

SYTYCD is the best show ever created. Talent, Mia Michaels, shirtless males, Mia Michaels, hot tamale trains, did I mention Mia Michaels? She is God. This week, Will was eliminated!! What in the name of hot tamales was America thinking?!! Our only hope now is Katee...she is truly the best, more soulful, contemporary dancer I've ever seen...and perfection/heart/personality in every number! a-MAAAA-zing.



Every day I take time to do something reflective...like read an inspiration blog, update a quote wall, or watch Oprah...(lol). And this time I came upon an incredible story of a hiker who bravely severed his own arm with a dull knife when a boulder had immobilized him. Days of sawing away at his own flesh and drinking his "brown" pee to even make it through another day. That's his description by the way. Anyway, his name is Aron Ralston, and I found him from a cracked.com article. Made me think though, having the will to live through something traumatic is really the greatest gift. Overcoming it really made him stronger. That's how people are differentiated I guess, those who succumb and those who overcome. Though both are faced with the same obstacles, same humiliation, same devastation, the ones who are weak will always be categorized as such, but the strong will be lifted upon shoulders and revered for their bravery. That really makes me rethink my past actions. Have I been resilient? Can I bounce back? It's knowing that you are in control of your destiny and never a victim of others' actions.

Word of caution: Cracked.com is seriously whack though. Addicting as crack, but you will soon feel the need to hurl after reading some of their "worst of" lists.

I've been exploring the abyssal depths of the web with no end in sight, but seems I should get up from my trance, and let my limbs feel the full force of gravity again.

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Smallness

Some recent developments (this is what happens when you spend your nights scouring the web for "Baby Einstein" music for your 4 month old cousin and Pavarotti's Best Of Collection for your Grandpa. After listening to them, I can now belt Caruso in my sleep).

I've made an astounding revelation..

Life in LA, well at my school at least, runs pretty much parallel to life in China. There are so many Asians. For all you non-Asians, take a walk in my shoes please. You feel so small, and part of something so massive, that you're squeezing your face through cracks in the crowds for a breath of fresh air. You feel so unoriginal, so fake, so unmotivated to stand out, cuz anything that you want to do, has been done, and everything you want to get, has been gotten. When I leave a home (that's what I call a place I've adapted to with people I care dearly about), it seems like the only thing to do is fear for the transition into a different reality, and make unfair comparisons.

Every time I take a break for the summer, I have to reevaluate life. It's just natural for me, to separate myself from the social me, and just find myself again. Sometimes I get so lost trying to be what others want me to be, I forget how great it was just to be who I was all along.

It's so cliche, I know. But I just wanted it be out there. I'm not just another girl. I feel degraded when people stare at me like a piece of meat, (not flattered or "so hot" like the Wonder Girls). No, that's not me. I'm not just another Asian who's good at math.

1. First of all, I'm Asian, I look, speak, and listen to Chinese, I was raised Canadian, but if it's not my daily way of life, don't go around talking about my culture, or heritage, or ancestors as if you're in my effing boat. I don't ask you why you have a mole in your armpit, don't ask me why I have freckles, I just do. So suck it. I'll gladly discuss more pertinent information than my skin color...like cars for example..I love Bugattis.
2. Second, I hate math, I suck at it, I've only loved three things with all my heart in my life: music, biology (just ask my family of doctors), and writing. And currently I'm not making the most of any of my talents or passions. I'm not stick-skinny. I won't ever be, I hope to God. From my grandma, I've learned being healthy trumps all. You can't be happy if you're not healthy.
   

I'm not just who I appear. I'm so much more. But it's a shame, you don't take the time to look twice, and see past the pained grin and forced giggle.

I often think about failure before I even make a plan of action. The neurotic perfectionist inside of me has stopped me from doing so many things that would have I been successful at, and as a child I wasn't this scared. Growing up has not only humbled me, it's debilitated me, making me second guess everything. And I think it's time I've let go...and be 10 again.

On my nice 14 hour flight back to LA, these are things I'm not going to think about, talk about, or dream about. I'm just going to live it. Cuz pulling another Grey's quote out of my @$$.."life's not supposed to be this hard."

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Hello Blog, It's Me Fiona

Again, I'm trying to quit being so verbose. So here it is quick and dirty.

My Grey's 2-Day All-you-can-watch Marathon has officially induced a state of manic depression. I thought this show was about love! drama! sexy stuff! NOT all this cutting people open, watching them die. What can I say, I get attached.

I'm beginning to think I'm the one in need of a morphine injection.

But anywho. I'm 2 days away from flying back from China. With a head bursting with plans, I've decided to check out this new thing called Mindmeister. It's a brainstorming tool fit for a...brainstormer like me. Lolcats.

I'm gonna map out my the rest of my summer, maybe create some wild storylines for my next novelette (I like that word teehee).

I'm already ahead, look! Some adjectives I'm hungry to infuse into the pages (ah, my secret passion for literature): swerving, billowing, repugnant. And don't forget the action words!...hrm can't think of any. But I digress, I'm ready to map my life. After that hard drive crash 2 months ago..(a disaster that dwarves the China earthquake by comparison. Ok, maybe not)...I'm ready to make amends, start fresh (and hopefully reignite some of those creative bits), make up for the 120gb of pure genius that went to waste (included were orig. poetry, orig. personal essays, life plans, life philosophies, seriously, music compositions I had mixed with audiomixer, thousands of photoshop creations that never got to see the light). I was young, naive, thought my little Dell was indestructible.

I was WRONG, and you will cry like a baby if you don't back up, so back up, back up. I found this new thing..well it's not new, but it is to me. It gives you free 2gb to save your files on their FTP server. It's safer than carrying around a usb drive (considering I lose my phone that's 10 times bigger almost everyday), and doesn't cost a thing. Trust me on this one, don't risk losing your memories/Nobel prize-worthy ideas. Mozy on over and get to it. Now.

What's with my irrelevant titles, you ask? I don't know, my brain flow just doesn't start until I start typing in the big text box I guess. Maybe it's lack of sleep from watching McDreamy all the time. Maybe it's having the attention span of a goldfish. Maybe it's...*stares cluelessly up in air*

Seriously. Seriously...seriously though. You'll grow to love the stream of consciousness-ness of me, I promise, and if not, screw you. *big cheesy smile* (ooh asterisked emotions are like real ones but better!)

On my Amazon book list:
Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea

Last thoughts (I'm sooo turning into Dr. Phil):

1. Life's too short but you know that.
2. Don't take your loved ones for granted (I'm realizing how real and amazing my grandparents are more and more each day, and I think, I'd like to be like that someday..just content, open-minded, never complaining, always enlightening me with their thoughts about the world).
   
3. Say what you mean. Mean what you say.
   
4. "It's better to know than wonder", as Meredith Grey says.
   

So maybe that wasn't as quick as expected, but it sure was dirty. Mmhgh, *smug look of disgust*. Time to "scrub in", I mean scrub up. Look what Grey's has done to me. Seriously.

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Resolutions

Who says resolutions are only for January firsts? No, I say. I'm making one today: Shorter posts. Cuz one can only rant for so long.

What I am doing right now: Watching Grey's Anatomy at 5AM. All nighter with some deep thinking and Grape-flavored Mentos.

Hold that thought...realization: I want to become a physician/pediatrician. Can old dreams really be rekindled? Can I be who I was meant to be? Rgg. Listening to Pavarotti and Yo-Yo Ma has really put me in fatalist mindset. 120g of Mentos eating away at my teeth...time to brush.

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Mosquitoes and Chocolate

Tequila Tuesday, ended up being buzzkill. First experience at an Asian club with a non ex-pat vibe (aka everyone there was Asian) left a fruity/putrid taste in my mouth, and no I didn't eat a durian. Highlight of the night: complimentary kettle korn. Low point: pissing off the towel guy by not tipping him for turning on my faucet in the restroom.

It was so eventful though..really. Zapatas, a Mexican bar had their Mile High Club Tuesday night..open bar for airline crew.. and I thought they were kidding...until they asked to see my airline card. WHAT?! Old pilot men and young stewardesses do not make for the prettiest sight (as far as female empowerment goes). Father complexes really piss me off, but let's move on.

There was instead a special deal for us non-fliers. 10 Tequila shots for 100. Wowwweee. Let's just say Jose..does not go down as smooth as I thought it would..with dry limes.

So as we moved to MT Club which was sketch to the max, we skipped nonchalantly passed dark alleyways, where 50 year old expats could be lurking ready to take our cab money (we met one at Zapatas). I took a jug of mixed JD (I think?) and poured myself a glass. Watched an equivalent of a striptease, and made off for the little girls room...only to find...

YES, the dreaded, hole in the floor squatters. If that wasn't bad enough, there was a gooey pink substance clogging the porcelain ditch..ew it can't be...but it is. Next revelation. No toilet paper. Perfect.

Escaping the nastiness, I see fresh water awaiting me. A sink bowl, immaculate...I move towards it, a gruff, pimp-looking man walks up to me with a towel. He moves to the sink and turns on the water for me. How kind of him. He then offers me a towel. "Okay..I guess, I can really wipe my own hands though". Then he motions at the table where there's a dollar sign embedded in the marble. "F U" I think to myself. And I walk away apologizing that I didn't bring enough money. And he graciously lets me go. Fearfully, I run into the crowd. Then, I remember, my friend's still in the bathroom. As soon as he comes out, I warn him "Don't let him wipe you!" The Wiper Man pushes him towards the sink in a kind of deja vu, out of body experience all rolled into one. And as I'm shouting advice and stepping in to release my confused friend from the man's grasp, he looms behind me, and shouts "You didn't pay anything! You can't tell your friend what to do! I do this for a living! How do you expect me to make money!"

If I didn't have that 5th Jose, I would've snapped. Thank God, I've learned the art of forgive and forget, even with a little assistance.

Not much to say after that. I tried to weasel some JD from busy bartender playing 10 fingers with a dreadlocked munchkin. Grr, they caught me. Awkwardly I turned the other direction as if it was a joke. Awkwardness ensued. We watched pale, shiny "hookerhoes" dance like technobots on crack. Some getting yelled at for not making a reservation but sitting down. Some "Oh my God" it's a bunch of white guys.."Oh nevermind they've found the white girls."

It was a rollercoaster ride of mediocrity and really low lows. But all in all, memorable.

Oh ya. About the title.

I have 3 mosquito bites from today and yesterday combined.
I just ate a piece of Belgium chocolate.
Dear Life,...we're even.

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Kung Fu Panda

Who can resist the charm and wit of Jack Black in a panda suit? He's fuzzy, squishy, and oh so ASIAN! lol. Hollywood these days, tsk tsk, picking at the Far East for their stereotypical roles. Yet it is Jack Black, the most notorious champion of American man-humor, who steps up to the plate to speak some Chinglish.

I've finally settled into being a summer sloth. Let's see..., at first I thought, I must venture into the crowd, unleash my bold foreign demeanor on the unkempt anorexics of bustling Shanghai, and show them what American-born..or rather American-raised means. (in my mind, it means easily offended by Chinese standards: "You can't talk to me like that! I'm the customer, you're the desperate salesperson, how dare you YELL AT ME!"). If only, I was a little more foreign and could simply turn a cold shoulder to their nasty remarks. Instead, I am all too willing to jump up and engage in a kung-fu style fist fight in the streets. It would make some pretty good entertainment for once..considering I've got a 3-month old, clueless, baby, that I have the privilege of guchi-guchi-gooing. So..wrapping up and tossing it aside, I've realized for the sake of my sanity and to preserve an aire of class, I've decided to remain houseridden (for the time being). So far so good.

STEP 1: Watch Kung Fu Panda on 10 RMB "blu-ray dvd". It turns our blu-ray here means crappy-scratched. 30 minutes in, and it stops, oo a glimmer of hope, 2 more seconds of pixelated animation! Then...freeze, for about 2 minutes I wait for 1 second of action. It goes on like this and each time I cling tighter to the screen, screaming obsenities at it in futility. Until, ALAS! I take the DVD out and wipe it. That's it. All it needed was some good ol' TLC, and it was smooth sailing from there. Butttttt, as they say, nothing good lasts forever.

And with 20 minutes left, I was left guessing: does Po beat whats-his-face (Li Fung??), does he make the whiskered Master rat thing proud? Holy Schmuck. I don't think I'll ever know, but if this movie is as crowdpleasing as ratings say, he will. GREAT! I ruined the movie for myself. :(

Anyway, I'm bitter and old cuz I've lived here for all the summers I can remember, and people seem to get more and more rude as technology has caught on. My favorite thing to come back to? The stares. People everywhere just stare at you, like your nose hair or neckline is alllllll their bidness. They don't just do it when your not looking, they look you up and down as your frowning right at them. But in their defense, I guess I'm fuller than the anorexic a-cups here are, and that is simply too strange to fathom and must be carefully examined. They stare so hard I can feel it even when I turn my back on them. I'm not paranoid, but the stares are unbearably discomforting, it's eye-rape I tell ya.

But, it IS my crazy mo-fo motherland. My birth medal (yes, I don't have a certificate, I have a medal, and nice leprosy vaccine scar to prove it) says so. I don't know any other place I'd rather be, for a sweltering 39 degree-celsius summer of love.

LOL.

No pandas here, just some good eats, overpriced brands (YES, Sephora here is haute class, with salepeople outnumbering potential customers (or as I like to call, their "prey"), and STILL in business [how? how???]), and some of the people who are closest to my heart. Here skycrapers and lights tower any mountain you will find, and the streets are polluted with selfish, poker-faced starers and drivers who think of pedestrians as Grand Theft Auto bonus points.

Oh Po, I wish life were as easy as selling noodles.

On a techie note, don't buy the new iPhone, here's why:
For iPhone, the 'New' is Relative

I'm still waiting for the iPhone nano ;) ... Steve Jobs, get on it!

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The Awful Truth

other than being the paradigm of screwball comedy at its finest...is...that...

this is yet another entry into the blogsphere...another lost Nemo in a sea of spermatite (miniscule and defenseless) little nomads.

So a few rules of conduct (and me-snippets) first of all,

1. There will be no profanity...all such verbage will be denoted by asterisks, number signs (I believe there's a word for the symbol, but who really cares what its called?), tildes (oh how much I've learned from Espanol though I can't seem to put one on my n right now), and my favorite, some good ol' word-improv (you're a smart cookie, you'll catch on).
2. I like lists. They are so informative, compact, and dare I say fun! They are the sparkle of monotonous prose. A simple paradox of order and innovation.
3. I lose track of what I'm saying sometimes. A trail of thought may wander into the Utopian abyss that is my mind and never find its way back into..what was I saying?
4. But nevertheless, I am optimistic..it's an incurable Dory syndrome that keeps me hovering precariously over the edge of destruction.
5. Dane Cook makes me giggle like a schoolgirl. People have said I sound like: a) a monkey, b) someone on crack, c) a man, when I laugh, and it's nice to get in touch with my feminity once in awhile (more such tutorial will follow).
6. Oldies are greaties. (See featured film of today's blog). If you haven't yet, go rent it. I used to abhor (ya that's right I hated it so much the word "whore" had to be uttered) the black and white, proper-talking classics. God forbid I'd accidently turn to TCM by accident; like a hot potato ready to scald my epidermis, I'd drop it like a bad habit. Perhaps it was a fear that monochromatic cinematography might have the opposite of a Pleasantville effect on me, turning me into a dull, grayscale replica of Mary Sue (but who knows, blonde (or technically light gray) could look good on me...if albino were in). It was my eccentric English prof that opened me up to the wonderful world of screwball comedy, and I will boldly compare it to such farcical acts of my bosom buddies Will Ferrell, Jack Black, and Ellen Degeneres.
7. An audiophile of audiophiles, I think every moment in life can be put soundtrack, and may break into written lyric every so often. Music carries my soul on Goliath-worthy rides, so don't mind my emotional ramblings, wait actually, do mind them..cuz that is why you're here, silly.
8. Happy, frantic, and sometimes confused...my search for truth..even if it may be awful, is my life...maybe with some power ballads in the background (a la Celine Dion).

Here I leave you for now with this list of 8 golden cheese nips of wisdom for you chew and ponder until my next foray into literary voyeurism.

I may be an enigma, but this Canadian Chinese-American who is just as East Coast as SoCal is just ODing on the wealth of information & culture that is..the web, the world, and the battle of self-identity. (oo ampersand..gotta love em).

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