Chaos Beckoned

I listened.

So, I've realized, I can't be the full package, a one-stop shop for all a blog-reader's needs. So it's time I started a new blog about beauty and kept all the skin rants out of the muddle. Me and my good friend Becka have been making makeup tutorials for a while, and we will be updating very soon!

Here's the link:
http://www.youtube.com/user/1YellowStiLetto

If you like it, subscribe! :)

And from now on, expect less talk of aesthetic beauty, and more of the usual nonsense! :)

Disclaimer: Title from Get Smart KAOS division...inspired. Haha.

-Signed, "getting smarter by the minute...not."

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Sometimes I feel like I AM Bridget Jones

I don't know if it's the recent ugliness explosion of my epidermis, but I am on a skincare rampage due to an insurmountable inferiority complex that can only be quelled by purchasing every gimmicky quick-fix at Sephora, plus the Laneige regimen system, some 15 different kinds of BB creams, and more. But..my shopping spree must finally come to a screeching halt. What am I doing--spending money I don't have?

In light of this unpalatable glimpse of poverty, I've begun a job hunt. Now, what kind of torture I am up for THIS time..

Stapling? Copying? Filing? Oh Joy!
No..maybe I'll sell my body on the street.

But wait, prostitution is never the answer. Instead, I can follow the footsteps of one of my good high school friends that I caught up with yesterday. In her free time, she makes jewelry, and aspires to start a bakery. That's it! I'll sit by the garbage can in front of the 7-eleven, beading little strands of thread and plier-ing microscopic metal coils together. I could definitely be Paris Hilton's new best friend. Ugh.

So I've decided I'm in the mood the learn "mixology", the fine art of mixing alcoholic beverages..aka bartending. And now, I will be a whopping 2 steps short of prostitution. But then again, as a good salesperson told me, every encounter is a form of prostitution and you don't need to take off your clothes to self yourself. Who was that again? Some chick on a street corner...

I'm bitter. It's the dry skin. Or the 4 a.m. bipolarity?? I hope its curable..then again..who's around to see it? Back to blabbering...

I NEEEEED A VACATIONNNN...STRESSSS IS TAKINGGG OVERRR MY LIFEEE..

Sometimes, people ask me "Why don't you have a boyfriend?"
Then I say "I don't know? I'm too busy?"

But the correct answer should be "I WISH! I want my Prince Charming to save me from myself..but at the same time I know I need to figure out my own life before I let someone get involved in this mess."

If this post is making you dizzy. Please stop. Compose yourself. Take a coffee break. Return with some fun insights. Ok, moving on.

I just watched the movie Get Smart with Steve Carell. It was surprisingly hysterical. While I heard the faint grunts and snores of the other 7 people in the room, I was too busy being possessed by Carell's sheepish, awkward charm. Ahhh.

Wow..this has got to be the first good movie I've seen in ages. Last movie: The one with 4 women?? It was so bad I don't even know the name of it. Oh yeah, it was called The Women (had to take a trip to imdb).

Anyway, while unsuccessfully trying to describe my favorite plot lines to my mother in broken Mandarin, (Wheeew that was a lot of prepositional phrases) I decided "Well, suck it, I'll just compile a list of my favorite movies for your future viewing pleasure mother, and save both of us the pain of trying to describe/decipher "concubines" and "love affairs" in my limited Chinese vocabulary. Ew, language barriers and generation gaps do NOT go together.

So here it is...a list, painstakingly compiled while backing up my hard drive onto my new Simpletech portable HD! (YAYAYAY, haha yea i know..nerd):

WATCHED & AMAZING
match point**
scoop
penelope
becoming jane**
amelie**
50 first dates
juno
the other bolelyn girl
the prestige
the illusionist
lost in translation
atonement**
love actually
a cinderella man
ever after
lars and the real girl**
enchanted
waitress
bobby

TO BE WATCHED IN THE NEAR FUTURE:
the diving bell and the butterfly
the jane austen book club
the kite runner
girl with a pearl earring
the duchess
stardust
emma 1996
charlie wilson's war
michael clayton
august rush
gone baby gone
PS I love you
pride and prejudice 2005
once
memento
the dark knight
ironman
the office season 1-4
pushing daisies 1
across the universe
entourage 1
tropic thunder
chronicles prince caspian
the namesake
sicko
persepolis
volver
dejavu
apocalypto
little children
half nelson
miss potter
mr brooks
the queen
the painted veil
roger and me
bowling for columbine
the big one
reign over me (adam sandler)
death at a funeral**
in bruges
into the wild
la vie en rose

OLD ONES: (#for watched), (@for need to get)
the lady eve#
the awful truth#
the philadelphia story#
bringing up baby#
his girl friday#
sleepless in seattle@
when harry met sally@
bridget jones' diary@
roman holiday@
motorcycle diaries@
y tu mama tambien@

Why the random list, you may wonder? Just cuz. Maybe you'll find it useful for your trips to Blockbuster or Piratebay. Thanks for stopping by, and if you have any miracle cures for my disfiguring "situation" please drop a line or a comment. :)

-signed, "decidedly dumber after watching get smart"

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You're a Walking, Talking Contradiction

Thanks for tuning in to another episode of "Little Orphan Annie Finds Her Way Home."

But unfortunately, we aren't airing our regular joe-schmo slapstick. Instead, I will entertain you with some fortune cookie wisdom that even Panda Express would be jealous of:

Some developments of the past 3 days:

Why is facebook the first thing I go to when I have to write an essay?
Confucius say: You fricking rebel. Do ya thang, and remember "What Would Kels Do?"

British accents make you sound smarter. "Hwatt-eh-vah"

Conjunctival hemorrhages are a beautiful thing. Vulnerability forces you find your real strength.

Life would not be worth living if you don't continue learning everyday.

Time heals all wounds. But scars never fade. *for some reason this came to mind, and I thought of Justin-Bobby. Oh Hills, how I missed the way you rotted my mind with useless, artificial thoughts.

Now....Global Studies. Go DO yourself.

Status on parentals: Negative, I would go as far as to say it has flatlined. My grandpa that I talk to once a week and lives light years away feels like more of a parental figure than both of my biological immediates combined. That's saying something. Love you grampa, you are my hero. (If you were listening/reading, I would tell you): no one else has ever believed in me as much as you have, trusted me as much as you have, and made me want to make the world a better place as much as you have already done for me.

Mother, there is nothing I want to say to you in person. You have already broken my heart, broken my spirit, and there's nothing that can bring that part of me back. The past few weeks have felt like a vacuous blur, with little to laugh, cry, think about because of how cheated I have felt. But I am an adult, I don't need you, and I don't think I ever will again. I will never be to my children what you were to me, a knife in the back, a slap on the face, a negativity that would have suffocated me to death if not for this "new freedom" you have bestowed upon me. You have been a wonderful anti-role model. And for that, I thank you.

xoxo,
Gossip Girl (or rather, Honest Girl)

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My Mom=The Asian Sarah Palin

So I've been un-introspective for a long time, and it's time to rewind, reboot, and reminisce a little while in the sphere of social voyeurism. After weeks of feeling detached with the world, I'm starting to miss the untethered, uncensored freedom of being a Facebook-whore/extreme blogger/techcrunch nut that was the me of 3 months past. Being a nerd never goes away, no matter how much MAC makeup I plaster to my freckly, fair skin.

For more drama than My Sassy Girl and Gossip Girl combined. Look no further than the titillating link below

So pretend you saw me on the street, wearing a face full of the most luxurious cosmetics money can buy, wearing a designer label outfit with a teacup pomeranian on my arm. Would you think, I like her style? She must be a rich bitch? or *Scoff* get a life?

Is that who I really want to be?
I think about it more and more..how much image can matter to some people, and to others be the most senseless thing to waste your time worrying about.

That..is one reason my mother and I had a falling out.

On one hand, I wanted her to have the nicest things, do her best to keep up with trends, look younger i.e. feel better about herself. From my point of view, I wanted her to find more meaning in her life than being OCD and wiping the same spot on the same window for the rest of her life. Instead, by filling her life with luxury items would distract her like it has distracted me from the reality of sordid, unending routine.

She thought, "Oh, I'm not good enough", "my daughter doesn't respect me or herself", and "what is the point of material things if it's a way of hiding the lack of morals and principles you have?"

She's always taught me to "zhi zhu chang le", meaning be satisfied with what you have and you will be eternally happy. It's like the saying "Love what you have and you'll have what you love" (or at least that's my version). Sorry for butchering all the common adages. My memory is failing, or it is on a very long vacation.

And when I see people for what they are, naked mole rats swimming in the images they want people to associate them with, I realize, I am more than that. Excuse my language please...I'm a fucking rockstar for having climbed the Mount Everest of emotional traumas and near-death experiences. I don't need a freakin' medal to prove it, and although I've covered up my emotional scars with a big heaping dose of "Forgetfulness Antidote" and some "Positive Affirmations for Dummies", nothing can erase the pivotal years of childhood...where everything that could go wrong did. So sorry, I can't be satisfied with what I have. I've bootcamped myself into thinking I can be better, I will be better, I have to be better.

SECOND REASON for the clash.
I get over things easily, and she harnesses the most hateful, vengeful grudges that surpass even that of "The Grudge". I used to have nightmares that she would attack me in my sleep like the little ghost boy. At least that's how it was when I lived at home.

Now I don't have a home.

Instead, I have a series of rest stops, you could say.

One: Tiffany's. I like the bear "head". I like to wear her clothes. Plus, she makes food for me. I like her roommates. It's almost home. But I don't have a toothbrush, so my rudimentary living style there defeats any chance of calling it a permanent living arrangement.
Two: My house. FOOOOOOOD. Luxury. Except...It's loud, some are unnecessarily obnoxious screaming banshees, and I have no privacy whatsoever.
Three: Westwood/LA/Big Blue buses. Sometimes I like to wander around aimlessly. Let my mind wander. Walk a little slower (that's really hard for me). And just people-watch. Having one-on-one time with myself helps me regain consciousness sometimes, when in the world of nonstop technological stimuli, I feel like a fish out of water..slowly getting the life drained out of me.
Five (cuz Asians don't like the number four, haha): Gardena, adjacent to the most crime-prone area of Compton. Where African-American and Korean gangsters loiter at the 7-Eleven across the street. I'm afraid to go "home" here, and since 2 weeks ago, I've been evicted completely...reason being..."You always say how bad a community we live in, how nothing's good enough, how you hate the decorations in our house. Fine! Don't come back!" - words of the wise...aka my ex-Mother.

*Scoff* "I didn't want to anyway"- but, don't I? Everyone needs a home. It's like an extension of self. I guess my current home, is my self then. Nothing else feels quite as comforting.

Being alone in the world is calming to me..like living in a little fish bowl, exploring the surroundings with my big fish eyes, seeing everything so clearly without the distraction of interaction. As weird as it sounds, sometimes I just want to see everything and everyone for who they are, take it all in, and decide for myself what I want in life, rather than being force-fed all this bullshit.

It's those moments of loneliness, where nothing in the world is bothering me, that I wonder, if I was a lone soul, no friends, no family (I'm halfway there) what would be the point of living? With no one to share in the joy and pains, or have a witness to the life you live, why would any of it matter? I would be a waste of space, a waste of resources, a floater and free-rider.

I wish I could write this junk that's clogging my intelligence into a song. I would sing it until it washed away the all my anxieties and replaced these feelings with a little label "remember to forget". Instead of pretending to forget every 15 seconds like a human Dory, I could wholeheartedly forget the selective things that needed to be forgotten. The day that someone could break the glass of my fish bowl will be the day I finally see the light. Literally.

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