Suck it, Polar Vortex.

Hey, Polar Vortex. No one likes you. You're mean and your breath stinks. Why don't you go mess with someone else, like Hawaii?


You suck. Just go.

Don't like it?

Fisticuffs, bitch. 

 

 

 

The Sheila in the Boozer

So I was getting my nails fixed up at a chop shop in the mall today when this one customer walked in. The sign in sheet was next to my station so it was pretty natural to look up and smile or at least acknowledge the customers as they walked in.

I turned to smile up at this one customer as she signed in, and became immediately infatuated with her.  Like, abnormally drawn to her.

 

She was maybe 40-ish. African American. She came in with a younger African American guy (her son?), and a 40-ish White guy (her husband?). The husband guy made a wisecrack to the nail tech about needing twice as long for her nails, and they laughed (me too. The nail tech was detached and dispassionate about the joke. But she's Korean, so...), and then he waited on the floor outside...but there were chairs in the salon...? 

I don't get men.

So back to the woman.  She had this sort of captivating warmth. An effervescence that was impossible to ignore. She seemed funny and kind and open and personable, but she hadn't really said more than two words...so why would I think that?

 

I found myself staring in her direction several times, mentally checking off ways to strike up a conversation.  I just felt like I needed to know her. 

 

It hit me - this is what guys in bars do when they see a hot girl.  All that was missing was my mug of beer, a cheesy pick up line and an aversion to pepper spray.

But I was working on that part. 

 

Eh...the pick up line, that is.  Not the pepper spray thing.

I tried to catch her eye on a few occasions and strike up a conversation. What would I even say? Nothing. I seriously couldn't come up with anything to say. And I'm glad I didn't try. I would sound like a stuttering idiot. 

Realizing my sudden infatuation, I started watching other customers to see if anyone else was trying to woo her (or pay for her drinks). No one else seemed affected. For now. I had to swoop her up quickly, before any of these other clowns noticed her.

 

I never did come up with anything more than stupid smiles at her, and feigned interest in what her nail tech was doing.

 

Once I sat under the hand blower thingy, she complimented my nails and asked me what service I'd received.

 

Yes! My chance, at last!  The hot girl chats up the creepy guy ogling her from the corner of the bar!

Now what? What do I say? What do guys in bars do when the hot girl finally notices them?

 

Do I ask her if she comes here often? Do I flash the Mercedes keychain I got from the dollar store? Do I adjust my crotch and ask if she wants to come back to my place? Do I tell her that I think Chinese women are hot?

Okay. Shh! It's my chance.  Here we go...

 

"Oh, thanks! Well, um, I got the shellac clear stuff instead of color. Are you getting shellac? I like that it dries. I'm dying for pizza. Is there still a pizza place downstairs? That's why I love shellac. It dries like instantly. Cause who wants nail polish in your pizza sauce? But the clear stuff that looks kind of pink. Pink but clear, sort of? And then I got the American manicure. But not the straight white French one. The American one is softer. One coat. 'Cuz I added glitter polish to the American. But the lighter glittery type. I don't usually like glitter. Do you like glitter?..."

 

WOW.  Did NOT see that coming.

 

Rambling like a sonuvabeech.

 

I'm giving club guys way more credit from now on.

 

I shoulda stuck with the Mercedes keychain idea.

Edited on 1/28/14

PIF

Just paid it forward at Starbucks. :)

I'm over shoveling snow

I just threw the shovel down and stormed back into the house. lol

You can clearly tell where I gave up.

Taking my neighbor to Starbuck's.

 

Limo Driver's Shopping List: Spray Bottle, Rubbing Alcohol, Febreeze, Bug Spray

Is that the same Mickey Rourke? The villain from Iron Man 2? Or a different actor with the same name? 

Why is he chasing the stiff, homely attorney chick wearing all the clothes when he's surrounded by naked Brazilian women? 

Whoa... Random dilapidated building sex under suspicious stream of water with no logical source!

This movie is dirty.

What tha... sex in a limo in front of other peeps who are just trying to get home safely.  "Excuse me, ma'am. Could you please move your angry sex act to the next seat over?"

This was 1990? I thought the whole decadent "STD? What's an STD?" thing happened in the 70's.

Wow. Okay, this is a bad movie.

Granted, I'm writing this like 20 minutes later.

Cuz I had to watch the movie for a few moments.  You know, "confirm my suspicions" that the movie was actually dirty.

#lecoit

Rush hour?

Dudes. Are you serious?? It's 7am. Why are you all on the road already!?

OMG.

3 minutes. 13mph.  1 mile.

#movebitches

Lucas Cumberbun

Watching the PBS Sherlock Holmes marathon. Trying to.

I'm only still trying because the guy who so spectacularly played Khan in Star Trek Into Darkness...

um...Benson Crumbsnatcher or something...

...was so powerful in that role that he made us totally forget we were watching The Trek.  I'd never seen him before. But he was nerdy-hot and slightly sinister and looked as if he forgot to refill the water bottles for the family he'd kidnapped and kept in the basement.

Seriously.  He played the SHIZNIT out of that role.

It became the Liam Crabtree show.

Or whatever his name is.

Anyway, he's is the lead character in this Brit version of Sherlock Holmes, and I'm told its worth watching.

So I'm trying.

And failing.

I was given very faulty information on this project's entertainment value.

Seriously.  Why can't English people just speak Amurrkan?

But he is cute, though.

Actually, if I tilt my head this way, this Bernard Cripplesnatch guy is actually really hot.  I think it's the hair. And the iceberg lettuce eyes.  And the general sense of impending doom if ever stuck on an elevator going to a dark basement with one of those coal heaters with the squeaky door with him.

Meeting

Please stop talking. I have like five questions already.

 

#dudeshutup

 

AI @ 8pm

Watch for my friend Eric on tonight's ep of American Idol on Fox. He'll be the one with the light brown flippity-do hair and thick rimmed glasses.

Eric is otherworldly-talented (and stylish as hell). He'll go far. Definitely.

#teameric

The Other Foot

I saw Ride Along yesterday. It was really funny. Great chemistry between Ice Cube & Kevin Hart. I don't care for KHart generally, but his Napoleonism stuff worked well here.  Think "Rush Hour" with a higher budget. A turned up Chris Tucker.

So the theater assigns your seats. A couple were in our seats, so they moved two seats down. They moved four more times because the real ticketholders kept showing up. That last time was a close one. I don't think the real ticket holders appreciated her attitude.  Alas, no pre-movie fight for entertainment.

At that point, I reclined my chair and realized my boots were on the wrong foot.

Seriously. I'm like 80.

I saw Jack Ryan on Saturday (which was okay).

Later, I logged in to SL to kill 30 minutes before a Skype call.

I just found out that the ex who ignored my calls while I was in Japan - "Mr. Yellow Fever" - 's girlfriend is one and the same person as another SL friend's undercover girlfriend.

Two shady deals, same girl involved. 

Litereally stumbled upon it.

Like a damn soap opera...one which I'm so glad I'm not a part of. But privately makes me smh with a smirk. Which is bad. And I should be ashamed. But I would've been right in the middle of that mess, and probably none the wiser.  There's a real world just outside of your doors, people.  You don't have to be crazy glued to your chairs.

So, I'm watching The Bachelor, and a contestant explained my thoughts on SL perfectly. She said: "Here, you have to make a spectacle of yourself to be noticed. It's just not in me to be different a different person because I'm here. In the real world, I can just be me."  She's haafu. The smartest one on the show. Go figure. Pffh.
 

Second Life should enhance your first life; not replace it.

National holiday today. MLK. Been working in the bathroom this morning and washing sheets. I'm dying to bleach the bathtub, but I'm told the bleaching product is very strong, and lasts for 3 days. So it needs to be warmer so I can keep the bathroom window open.

Feels like time for a change. I'm trying L'Oreal's Ombre.  "Ombre" is meant to look like a gradual progression in color along the length of your hair. Like your color is settled/fading from the root. So more natural, less GAH!

I used this tutorial:

 

Kara-YO-ke

The guy at my table keeps laying his head on my shoulder. 

The girl on the other side of me just whispered that she's working on her temper. But just in case, she's got a gat in her purse. 

Note where she's resting her purse...

...

...sweet geezus. 

Also, Karaoke in the hood apparently includes random outbursts of the wobble hustle. 

More Drama than Trauma

Black ice + crazy drivers = AccidentFest

Took three hours longer to get almost home than normal after work last night.  I'll go back to the "almost" in a moment.  With the whole span of I96 closed, rush hour has become a fiasco. Couple the fact that everyone is cramming into the remaining eastbound/westbound expressways with the recent snow and ice extravaganza, and arriving anywhere on time...let alone in one piece...is completely a matter of chance.

 

I've been really fortunate. I've never had snow tires, so the simple act of stopping at a red light and starting again turns my car into a carnival ride.

 

What's the name of that one old skool circular roller coaster one that goes on the continuous loop?

 

Okay, I just spent 25 minutes looking for the ride. The closest I found was this one. It was sort of like this one, but it was two to a car, and the back part was inside a tunnel. And it didn't look this nice. It was rickety and the safety was questionable. And there were wall speakers at the entrance to the tunnel part that almost hit your head.

Dangit. What was the name of the ride?? Ice-something. Snow-something. OMG.

 

Well, that analogy's ruined. Anyway, its bad out. I'm a careful driver, but I still slid into a bank or two.

 

Back to the "almost" part.  I got sideswiped by a guy who ran a red light.  It wasn't the snow. He was going too fast the way people do in perfect weather, and assumed everyone else was as awesome a driver as he is, and could stop mid-intersection and politely wait for him to speed through. He assumed everyone has snow tires. I don't. So I can't do the polite stop and yell. I was at about 5 mph. He hit me at about 32mph. He knocked my car onto the corner/curb of a gas station. He got out and ran off. That's happening a lot more these days. Same thing happened to my coworker.

 

Anyway, I took pictures, caught a cold, got a few indecent offers from drivers, gave the police my information, went home, took a bath. Today, I found out that the driver was drunk and had a small amount of meth in the car.  I felt bad that the accident made an unbearable drive home even worse for most of the drivers.  I wonder if it would've been better to move my car, since I already had pictures.

 

I'm not injured. The car has a small ding. No big deal. All drama. No trauma.

 

I nabbed a ticket to the NAIAS Charity Preview tonight. It was fantastic. I had planned to take my grandmother to this one. We use watch the live show. We drooled over the beautiful gowns and watched the rich people drink champagne. I wanted to splurge on the tickets just to see her be one of those people for a change.

Wore my sister's birthday gift, but the boots weren't far away!

Last year's post: NAI-YES!
 

Sooo ...earlier today at lunch.  What kind of chicken IS this?? I don't even know what PART of the chicken this is. The lunch room sign said "grilled chicken". The other side LOOKS like a small thigh. I think it's a pigeon. I'm so confused!!

 

 

 

 

Hypotherically

A guy in this meeting just said, "Well, hypotherically speaking..."

Love it. Gonna use it for the rest of the day.

Nightmare on Roslyn Street

 

So I took out the old medicine cabinet in the downstairs bathroom (the one I've been remodeling for 300 years now), and can I just say that "DIY projects" do NOT go as smoothly as they do in YouTube videos???

 

Okay, so the cabinet had 30 years of paint coating it, so I exacto'd it out. After I realized there were actual screws holding it into place. Then I found a giant pile of rusty razors behind the cabinet. Then I remembered that my father use to dump his old razors back there. I can't remember why.

 

And THEN the drywall I measured was maybe 1/8" short of the left mark, which wasn't my fault! My father had built a space into the original wall to hold the old medicine cabinet, so the stud/anchor/wood thingy was in the way. I didn't want to move it, so I added skinny wood blocks to the original wood to make a drywall anchor.

 

Then I mixed the putty stuff to fill in the gap on the left, then added the mesh tape over it. But when I started going over the entire thing, the stuff got too hard to handle.  So I went back into the kitchen to add more water, which just the crumbly rocks slipperier. Sigh!

 

Then I tossed that batch and mixed a new one, which got too hard to use with the spatula thingy, so I smeared some on with my damn fingers.

 

But the stuff became too hard for even that, so I cursed at the box and dumped it all in the trash.  I'll try again tomorrow with the premixed stuff.

 

I used this tutorial for drywall repair:

 

 

 

Once I'm done, I'm putting up this mirror. Which is a story in itself. Like the sink, it was advertised but no longer available, I harassed Lowe's into helping me find it, they found it at a Lowe's about 25 miles away, I paid for it over the phone (last one, so it was on sale for $9..woot!), then drove the 25 miles to pick up the mirror, my engine light was on the whole way home, but hasn't come on since...

 

OMG.

 

 

 

SL is bleh. And my friends list is all weird. Zombies! Any takers?

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

I'll take "Sh!t Men don't Care About" for 100, Alex.

 

So shellac is a new-ish nail polish method that basically singes the coats of specially-formulated color onto your nails. Shellac is great because the color never comes off. The nail tech has to soak each nail in hot acetone for a few minutes, and then scrape it off with that painful metal scalpel thing. It hurts SO much, but it's worth not having to watch your polish chip for weeks at a time.

http://www.komonews.com/news/consumer/
122994693.html?tab=video&c=y

The problem with shellac is that it doesn't do much to protect the nail. Mine always breaks in the same area - where the skin meets the tip - about a week in.

 

Anyway, I switched back to gel. Which is basically an acrylic layer (at least, it looks and smells like acrylic?), followed by a clear coat of something, then they stick your hands under this UV (?) light for a few minutes, and your fingertips feel like they're burning off, then presto! No need for polish.  If you have even a little bit of fingernails like I do, you won't need the falsies. The tech will just lay the acrylic/gel/whatever it is right over the nail beddo.

Typical gel nails

The problems with gel nails are that (1) they can look really bad/fake if the nail tech lays it on too thick (watch your tech closely as he/she starts on the first nail, in case "I want a very thin coat" doesn't translate), and (2), your fingertips will burn for the first night. It feels like I held them over a fire for a second too long. It doesn't diminish as the night goes on, or get worse as I'm typing.  My nails don't feel sore to the touch. The insides of the tips literally feel on fire.  And this won't go away until morning.

The stuff we do for beauty, dammit.

My brother may finally be moving to Sydney with his family, so I now have an excuse to visit.  I have a friend in Brisbane (reads like "bris-BAYNE", but Aussies pronounce it "BRIHS-bun"...why? Because, although they so desperately want to be Amurrkan, they'll never get the enunciations right...unless they're an actor on The Walking Dead...then it's spot-on.) and Geelong (again, it looks like "GEEE[zus]-long", but the crazy Aussies say "jlong". They're crazy!). It'd be great to see you guys.

 

It also means I may be moving back to Toshima (or, kill me now, Koriyama).  And relearn kanji. Sigh to that. It's a family obligation thing, so I'm opting to not post my opinion on the matter.
 

I just joined the YMCA near my workplace. It's like it's own little city. Child care services, a giant indoor court, an indoor pool (a rarity!), a juice bar and rock climbing? Crikey. I'm just looking to get rid of my gut. 

Parking's ridiculous, so I go with my boss and/or coworkers.

 

I asked a guy at Lowe's today to directly me to the "50 shades of gray" aisle. I thought it was funny.  I even snort-laughed at my own joke. But he turned red and I felt kinda bad.  But he did direct me to the drill bits!

I dropped my work i.d. at a CVS Pharmacy one day last week. I called to check on it and the employee said that someone from my workplace found it and that was going to bring it to me the next day.  Well, I haven't seen it, but where I work, you can be fired if you don't report your id stolen.  Its a whole state regulations thing. So I gotta face the music and get a new one.

Random FaceTime mayhem.

 

Housework's done. Bills done, sorta. Let's shoot some zombies! Don't forget, I'm on kik @Mia-LiA (which is way more reliable than google).

Goofy vine for the win.

 

 

 

 

 

Where's mah muthaf*ckin' hash browns?

lol

Strange addiction, indeed.

Watching My Strange Addiction.

This woman is addicted to eating cat hair. They just showed a close up. BLEH.

The other segment on this episode is of a couple who are addicted to giving themselves coffee enemas. Four times a day.  Each.

"I prefer an espresso blend."  The husband's words, not mine.

I have a strange addiction. An incredibly embarrassing one. Something I do all the time. There's no way I'd post it here. It's super embarrassing. It's one of those things where, if I ever get married, my husband will see me doing it and consider an annulment. 

But, in the spirit of my blatant nosiness, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.  What's your strange addiction?

 

 

 

Cold in da D

.

I just heard a coworker say...

"Girl...it's so kowd that my toes need Jesus!"

Amen, sistah.

Google Hangout

OMG calm down, mom. It's a wig from a costume. Yeesh.

 

 

 

Succulent Chinese Meal

So I just FaceTimed with a giant red-haired Barbie who sounded suspiciously like my little niece.  Hmm...talking Barbie...my niece's voice...I'll crack this case if it kills me.

I'm blogging while under the influence of a romance movie. Watching Pride and Prejudice (The Keira Knightly version, based on Jane Austin's 1813 novel).  I refuse to confess to watching a romantic movie. So let's just pretend it takes place on a spaceship.

Yeah, it's romance-y. But its also about social classes and breaking social rules and stuff.  That's all secondary. The crux of the story is that rich Mr. Darcy is all stuffy and bound by the rules of his social class, but he has the hots for Elizabeth, who's family is poor, and she's sort of a brat.  It's also really funny. Elizabeth's mother is a trip, trying to marry her daughters off to whatever rich dude walks by. She's like an old school Kris Jenner. And the short cousin who wants to marry Elizabeth...Mr. Bingly, I think? Love it.

Anyway, I love that Darcy seems so boring and drab and proper, and that he's so drawn to Elizabeth's light and spunk and apparent lack of interest in him. The dude that plays Darcy is perfect for the role. Any responses to her are said in a sort of monotone feigned fatigue. But his eyes follow her around the room like a moth to a flame.

Well, it's Keira Knightly, so duh.  But still, I wonder what that kind of attention - being privately adored that way - would feel like to normal women. So I watch him for the whole movie. I barely notice the other actors.

Best part is coming up. Elizabeth has already dissed Darcy's earlier awkward marriage proposal, which he didn't understand since he's rich and all, but she finally realizes she can't live without him. 

"You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you..." See, you gotta understand that, until this point, he's shown absolutely no emotion at all.  And super intimate without a kiss. 

OMG don't cry don't cry don't cry...... DAMMIT!

Sigh. I want a Mr. Darcy who turns into a human halogen bulb when I walk into the room.

And why does everything sound awesomesaucier with a British accent?

Speaking of happy endings existing only in fairy tales...

Yellow Fever is when a non-Asian person is attracted to/only dates persons of Asian ethnicities, solely based on stereotypes and fantasy.  A person...say an ex-boyfriend who left you for dead after an earthquake...who completely immerses himself into a specific Asian culture, and only goes out with Asian women (as long as they look "asiany"), has Yellow Fever.  Short stature, dark hair, monolids...those aren't simply a part of a package of mayhem. They're requirements.

Please understand. I'm so proud of my family and their experiences. I hope that I can one day live up to even a quarter of the respect they've earned.  Being immersed in two cultures, I truly get how meeting someone from a different culture can spark up genuine interest in that world.  It's wonderful to watch a new friend sort of mentally compare cultures that way. 

But SOME guys...they're so smooth. You think they see you. But he never saw me for more than the hint of yellow I would add to his world. I was a national flag. Not a person. And he's still doing it. And I was so stupid.

So I'm deciding what kind of gun I want. This is complicated, and not for the faint of heart. Because you have to actually imagine in graphic detail a possible scenario where you would have to use it.

I don't like guns. I've been anti-gun my whole life. And I don't like the feel of it, or the intent, when its in my hand. But the reality is that I live the right next to Detroit. I live alone in a big house. I hear gunshots a minimum of once/week. I live next to an increasingly popular park area. I'm often out late. I check on my neighbor after work every day, which means walking through the park. (I decided not to blog about the broken glass I walked in to one evening).

 

And I had that dream again.

So what are my options? Move, or protect myself.  I've been looking to relocate for a long time. But every place has its drawbacks.  Denver has less crime, and it's beautiful...but the cost of living is ridiculous.  Toronto has the culture and entertainment I want, but not the education or opportunity.  Mass, Texas...I've checked them all out.  So the logical immediate decision is to protect myself. Protect my family's home, which I've done.

And there's no avoiding why you want the gun. The reasons become abundantly clear when you begin deciding which sort of gun you'll want.  This one shoots a hole right through a person, Shaun of the Dead-style.  This one uses bullets that split up when they make contact, shredding the flesh.  And that other one, you can just sort of aim anywhere in the general vicinity of your target, and you won't miss.

Grown up decision, yes.

But still, better than deciding, "should I go get some ice cream after this baby tears and shreds its way out of my bloody womb and becomes the biggest bill collector of my life for the next 18 years, or should I just stab myself?"

Marc - Friends don't let friends kidnap their iPhone.

So it took me so long to finish this post that Breaking Dawn 1 is on.  The part where Bella dies during childbirth and Edward has to tear the baby out with his teeth? 

Badass. Break the cool code and admit it!



300: Rise of an Empire

OH...MAH...GAH...!





#thedayismine

Last. Sorry, folks. After one hour of dumping my phone's videos and photos from 2013 into photobucket, I couldn't take it anymore. (You have to upload each file individually.). So I just stitched the last few here.

(file dump 5)

iphone videos from 2013 last 4

(file dump )

 

 

 

 

 

Blink of an Eye

In the span of 12 hours, your whole perspective can change.  From roses to thorns, or vice versa.

Out with the Old.

2013 was an interesting year. Exciting and bittersweet.

I transferred to a new position at work in 2013, which was a promotion and a raise. I think the executives trust me with morale-related tasks. Its a nice feeling.

 

I met a lot of great new people in 2013, simply by biting the bullet and striking up conversations with random strangers. I spent New Years Eve with two new friends who didn't know each other until I introduced them. So we're all new friends to each other.  I realize that (a) you seriously can't judge a book by it's cover, (b) you can trust a real friend with your darkest secrets, and (c) a real friend will see beyond the topical.

 

2013 also brought new perspectives on intimate relationships. Specifically, that I'll never find anyone like my father. Because men simply aren't made that way anymore.  They crumble with the weight of it.

 

I finally get that I'm not over being abandoned while overseas and dealing with my family during the quake.

 

I learned that acts of kindness aren't truly "selfless" unless you perform them without the intent of watching them play out.  You can give money to the homeless, or buy presents for families, but waiting for the homeless person's reaction, or throwing a big party for the families, watching them open their presents...I realize now that it's a sort of selfish need for gratitude. If you truly want to give, do it even when you won't be there for the "thank you".

 

My grandmother's death felt like a ton of bricks being dumped on my head. I'd become so close to her after she came to live with me after the quake. She became my priority in all things. She was my reason for waking up so early, for learning to shop for groceries on a budget, for reading nutritional value labels, for rushing home after work, for learning about proper medical care and prescription coverage, for treating doctors like medical students instead of gods, for finding honor in placing someone else's life before mine, for putting my job in its proper perspective.

 

I still can't stay in her room for longer than a moment or two. Around this time last year, she was doing something to make me laugh. I bought a metal filing cabinet to hold important things like photos, deeds, medical stuff, and anything of hers. It sits at the window in her room. I go in, file away the bills, and always (like an idiot) turn to face the bed, and run out crying, remembering that I could've done more.  There's always more.

 

I read over my resolutions from last year, and they read like pompous bullshit. I don't know what brand of crack I was on then, but it would take a village to accomplish those things. I'll never live up to those challenges.  At least, not in the span of 365 days. The things I want will take a lifetime to attain. 

 

So as I look out at the huge snowflakes falling on the side from the kitchen window of our big empty house, I recognize the humility of my regret, I appreciate and all my imperfections, I timidly consider my hopeful expectations for the new year, and acknowledge my everlasting need to be better.

Happy New Year

omg.

 

 

#toooldforthissh!t

 

 

 



Pedestrians, dammit.

Yes, I understand that those yellow lines in front of the store are a crosswalk. But it doesn't damn mean you can take your damn time strolling across the damn street like you're checking out exhibits in a damn museum.  

Just because it's a pedestrian crosswalk doesn't mean you can chill in the middle of the damn street.   Just because I have a car doesn't mean I can hang out in the middle of the freeway. 

Get it together, dammit.