SKIPPING ON TOP OF CLOUDS

STFU, Annoying People!

2008-10-13T12:19:00.007-04:00

Just because I haven't written about my roomies lately doesn't mean that things have improved.

Earlier I walked into the bathroom to find a toilet full of giant crap. I know it's not Miss Murphy's so it belongs to either the 37-year-old Creep or Snorting Woman. Either way, I was disgusted. Still am.

Snorting Woman is here almost every day and night and now that my roomie is out of town, Snorting Woman is here every f'n day cat-sitting. Not only does she makes this loud snorting noise, sucking up air and forcing out air through her congested nose, she laughs and talks to herself...right outside my bedroom door. (By the way, she works as a server and if I ever heard my server making that kind of noise, I'd eat somewhere else.) My irritation only gets worse when Snorting Woman and Creep start talking to each other about politics and The View since they're both damn loud and don't know when to stop ranting.

Then I have Creep's brother who is here about five times a week. He studies on the table outside my door and stays quiet. But still, I don't need an extra person in the apartment, especially when I need to open the fridge but he's blocking my way.

Since one of my roomies moved back to Greece last week, Snorting Woman is taking over his spot...not that it's going to be any different since her ass is here all the f'n time! I tell myself that I'm only going to be here for two more months and three days and then I can get out of this freak show apartment.

Oh yeah, I also have Spanish music playing outside my window and people outside my window speaking to each other in Spanish since the construction madness never ends!

P.S.1 Artists are All on Drugs

2008-10-12T22:33:00.004-04:00

After going to Central Park, I went to PS1 Contemporary Art Center in Long Island City. Instead of taking the train, I decided to walk there. Bad decision. I went through a neighborhood that's mixed with vacant dilapidated buildings and housing projects. If I only see men standing around and barely any women or children, I get nervous. After walking a couple blocks, I tried to find a street that had some traffic, but they were mostly empty, so I ran to the closest major street.

I arrived at PS1 slightly sweaty and sticky. The entrance of the museum is a courtyard that showcases different exhibits. The winner of this year's design contest designed an urban farm.

The landscape is entitled P.F.1 (Public Farm One).

This tube is part of Public Farm One. I was tempted to crawl inside and my stick my head out one of the openings but I'm not sure what has gone on in the tunnel of love...

...plus the gravel would have hurt my dainty knees.

To go along with the farm theme, you can look inside these tiny holes to see videos of farm animals. You're looking at goats right now.

The chickens are part of the farm concept.

They come out toward closing time and are free to roam around. They're really friendly and will walk up to you.

Photography is prohibited in the building but there's not much to take pictures of anyways. The center, which was once a school building, is more of a exhibition space that allows artists to express new ideas and genres. There were videos of naked people, photographs, and a giant mirror spinning on the ceiling (bow chika bow wow).

One of the videos was called Salt Transfer Cycle by Jonathan Yoo. I walked in the room and saw on the wall a naked Asian man sitting on the grass. Not only was he naked, but he also had grains of salt all over his body. Hmmm...this is interesting...then the moose or caribou or whatever animal has antlers walked over to him. And licked him. I guess that explains the title of the film. But that's not even the best part. After showing the severed antler on the grass, the naked man jumps up into the air and then the scene cuts to him lying on his stomach on a pile of salt (or it could be a pile of cocaine) licking the salt/cocaine and making a legless snow angel on it.

The other video I saw had a lady being tasered in public, hosed down while she was totally nude (she had several tattoos and one, which looked like a giant mole, was right above her a-hole), and repeatedly had her head held down in a barrel of water by an "interrogator."

Some people call this art. I call it people on drugs.

Eating a Pumpkin Scone with Hippos at Central Park

2008-10-12T21:17:00.007-04:00

I've been in NY for over a year and still haven't seen all of Central Park. Today I decided to check out the north part of the park, specifically The Resevoir (officially named the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir). I stopped by Alice's Tea Cup to pick up a pumpkin scone since I'm on a pumpkin craze right now and managed to wait until I got to the park to enjoy it. (I've had Starbuck's pumpkin spice frap, pumpkin pancakes from Cafe Orlin, a giant pumpkin cupcake from Crumbs, and tomorrow, pumpkin spice frozen custard from Shake Shack!)

Pumpkin scone with a side of strawberry jam and cream...though it's not quite a scone since it's more moist, sweeter, and cake-ier

The Resevoir

Many people jog on the Bridle Path, which loops around the resevoir.

Panoramic view of the resevoir.

Hippos in Safari Playground, which is next to the resevoir.

Safari Playground has 13 hippos chillin around. I felt awkward opening the gate to walk into a kid's playground since I didn't have a kid...similar to when I opened the gate to walk into a dog park even though I didn't have a dog. There were other giant hippos that I wanted to take a picture of but the kids were climbing all over them and I didn't want parents jumping me for taking a picture of their kids.

Central Park has a lot of pretty bridges to cross. Whenever I see a pretty bridge, I think, "Proposal spot"...but if it's an ugly bridge, I think, "Bums live under there."

When I was walking out of the park, I passed by this lady that walked her dog while she bicycled. That's just wrong.

Musical Habit

2008-10-09T15:09:00.003-04:00

When I hear a new song I like, I play it over and over again until I get sick of it. Last month I did the robot to MGMT's Kids and swayed my head back and forth to Plain White T's 1,2,3,4 (not quite sick of them yet). The repeat song of this month is by Jason Mraz. Makes me wanna hold hands with someone and skip around.

Seesawing

2008-10-07T23:50:00.002-04:00

I take two steps forward but one step back.
I begin to say something but force myself to retract.
I want more than what I now have.
Because I'd rather have a whole than a half.
But the horizon is so wide,
And the water constantly high tide.
So I hold back and wait
For things to reciprocate.

I Attract Weirdos

2008-10-05T16:12:00.002-04:00

Do I have a sign on me that reads, "I'm desperate and will hook up with anybody"? I'm not an egocentric person but I'd feel a lot better about myself if a decent looking man would approach me instead the usual thuggish ruggish guy hollering at me, the geriatric man sizing me up and down, the neighborhood paraplegic throwing comments my way, or the Asian Hobbit that creeps up on me from behind on the dance floor. I think that the type of guy a girl can get is related to her own looks. So WTF does that say about me if the type of guys that I'm attracting are less than stellar?

Today I was sitting in the far end of the train and noticed a man, who was sitting in the middle of the train, staring at me. He looked like he could play a killer in a movie. I was listening to my iPod and avoided looking straight ahead to where he was sitting. A couple stops later, he walked over to the door that I was next to. Maybe he was getting off the next stop? No. There was no map there so he didn't have a reason to be hovering there. Then he sat down on the bench perpendicular to mine. I started to look at the pictures on my iPod to avoid eye contact with him but he had to ask me if he could ask me a question. (By the way, if you have a question, just ask it. Don't ask me if you can ask it!) Creepy Guy had a crazy unibrow going on. Maybe he doesn't tweeze it to distract people from looking at his receding hair line.

Creepy Guy: Hi, sorry to bother you, but I had to tell you that you're very pretty. Where is your ring?

Me: [Gawd, why is it that there's no one around me right now?!] I'm too young to be married.

Creepy Guy: You must get that question a lot. How old are you?

Me: Uhhh, no. Young enough to not be married. (Kept looking at my iPod to avoid talking more...doesn't work.)

Creepy Guy: I'm going fishing right now. Do you live around here?

Me: That's nice. Yes. This is my stop, gotta go.

Seriously, I'm a weirdo magnet.

Stay Away From Men With Bowl Cut Hair

2008-10-05T14:49:00.004-04:00

On Saturday night we went to The Bitter End, a small nightclub in the West Village that showcases musicians and comedians. The venue is known to have hosted some big name performers before they became famous (and married their adopted daughters), such as Bob Dylan, Billy Joel, and Woody Allen. We saw several bands and singers perform and they all had great voices and beats.

After we walked over to Joe's Pizza and while we were crossing the street, a couple of guys started talking to me and I didn't want to be a biznitch so I responded. They were heading to Joe's as well and were in line in front of us. One of the guys was obnoxiously loud, asking us what we did for a living, and in typical New York fashion, told us how he made more money than all of us. My friend told him that he's probably a psychologist because psychologists take on their patients' problems and he seems to have issues. She then told them to stop talking and looking at me. Somehow it led to the drunk guy calling one of us fat, which led to my friend telling him that he's not cool with his bowl cut hair (which he did have...with long hair in the back and bangs) and Central Park t-shirt that he probably got for free.

Drunk Guy's friend apologized on behalf of his friend as Drunk Guy walked out. Drunk Guy walked up to the open window, where he was in arm's reach of the guy friend that we were with. He started to talk to Guy Friend, saying that he looks really happy with my girl friend. Guy Friend told him to walk away. Drunk Guy replies with, "That's so deep." Guy Friend says, "Deep like the nose hair that's sticking out of your nose?" At that moment, Drunk Guy's looked furious and I thought that he was going to punch Guy Friend, but instead, he pushed his cheesy, oily hand over Guy Friend's head and jumped back, saying what any tough bowl-cut-hair guy would say: "Why don't you come outside?"

Guy Friend reacted well and laughed it off. My friend made another comment on the Central Park t-shirt and Drunk Guy proudly said that he ran an 8 mile marathon. My friend said that 8 miles isn't even a full marathon and somehow Drunk Guy's friend thought that she said he's not American. All of a sudden, the apologetic friend got pissed and said, "What the fuck did you say about him being not American?!" Whoa, I think we hit a sensitive spot. So she had to clarify that she was talking about a marathon and not questioning his patriotism.

I'm sure everyone in the pizza place was entertained by this and thought that we were idiots. At the end of it all, my friend reiterated that she hates Asians...except for me, of course.

Dancing on Beds

2008-10-04T14:06:00.000-04:00

I'm sure Duvet used to be a cool club when it first opened in 2004, but after Fabolous' friend got stabbed there last year, getting into the club on Friday night was such a hassle.

The bouncers outside were total line Nazis. "Two lines! Move up!" Dude, if I move up any more, I'm going to spoon with the girl in front of me. And what if you came with an odd number of people? You'd have to pair up with a stranger.

I usually judge a club by the type of crowd it attracts. As we stood in line, a guy walked up to the men's line next to us in a white pimp suit (and when I say 'pimp,' I don't mean pimp in a cool way; I mean a stereotypical suit that pimps wear), donning a feathered hat and aviator glasses. That's strike one. Then as we were inching our way closer to the velvet ropes, a group of men and women in their fourties or fifties bypassed the lines and got right in. Strike two and three (one woman was sporting Nike tennis shoes).

When we finally got in, butchy female security guards searched our purses and even opened people's wallets and upzipped the compartments. They scanned the metal detector around my body and patted me down. I think I'd feel safer flying if they worked for TSA. But hey, at least now I know I can start a fight in Duvet and not get stabbed or shot.

The inside was nicely decorated with a bunch of people lying and dancing on beds. I liked dancing there because it's spacious and didn't require me to throw elbows, plus it wasn't stuffy. A photographer went around taking pics of people. It's always fun to watch girls act like they're on a photo shoot. One girl made the guy take multiple solo shots of her doing her best Blue Steel look...she wasn't quite at Magnum yet. I guess it doesn't matter what kind of crowd is at a club since the company that I'm with are always fun and there's always interesting people to watch.

Reciprocity (I Do Learn in School!)

2008-09-25T00:52:00.003-04:00

I was reading for my integrated marketing class about partnerships of integration and reciprocity and came across an interesting theory called economic distributive justice. J. Stacy Adams (why do some people initial their first name, especially if they're men and their second name sounds like a girl's name? I guess if you have a really crappy first name, you'd want to initial it...like in my case) developed that concept and basically said that "whenever two individuals exchange anything, there is the possibility that one or both of them will feel that the exchange was inequitable"...or in other words, one person will invest something and expect to receive something in return that is equal but ends up receiving more or less than what he (for the sake of this conversation, assume "he" means "she" as well) originally put in.

So what is a person to do when that happens? One of six things:

1. Vary his inputs by increasing or decreasing them
2. Alter his outcomes by increasing or decreasing them
3. Cognitively distort the inputs or outputs
4. End the relationship
5. Alter or cognitively distort the other party's inputs and outcomes or try to force the other party to end the relationship
6. Change the party with whom he makes a comparison

In the book, the author discusses the reciprocal theory and customer relationships, but it got me thinking about relationships in general. What happens when one person puts more into the relationship than the other person? If a person is really giving, does that person give because he expects to get back just as much in return or does he give unconditionally knowing that the other person may not be able to give back equally? If a person starts to decrease his input as a reaction to the other person's low input, then wouldn't that devalue the relationship and eventually lead to the end of the relationship? If a person starts to rationalize his levels of inputs and outputs, where does he draw the line for making up excuses for the other person?

I guess relationships are like investments...it's hard to find an investment that you can be so sure of that you're willing to risk everything for it.

(OMG--or should I say OMB, B for Buddha--this is what happens when I have a frappuccino at 9pm...my mind runs in different directions...and the frappuccino, which was a pumpkin spice frap from Starbucks, wasn't even good at all!...or maybe it was because I chewed gum before I drank it and the gum messed up my taste buds.)

Transition from Summer to Fall

2008-09-21T22:31:00.003-04:00

It's weather like this weekend's that makes me l-o-v-e New York. The humidity is gone, giving us warm days with a slight breeze and cool evenings (like SoCal weather).

On Friday I had a food walking expedition with my friend in Ching Chong Town and had banh mi at a Vietnamese (they're really Chinese) store that a friend was raving about. I was expecting the crunchy, buttery french bread with pate spread and slices of pork...but the bread was mediocre and there was no pate spread! I can't blame my friend for hyping up the banh mi because 1. he's white and 2. he has never had Viet food from California so he doesn't know good Viet food. To make up for the disappointing sandwich, we had mini hot cakes from a street stall (eh), bbq pork buns (tasty), and taro green milk tea (tasty).

On Saturday I chilled on the grass by the river and watched people run/walk by. When I was walking along the river, a lady ran by in grey shorts and I could see the sweat marks in between her butt crack...that's kind of an awkward place to sweat. I also saw five English Bulldogs!

At night we went out to celebrate my two friends' birthdays at 205 Club in the Lower East Side. It's not really a club...it's more of a bar that has aluminum foil walls. They have a stuffy bottom floor that reminds me of someone's basement. The wooden walls had writing on it so you could read and dance at the same time. A lady was rubbing her body up against the wall (maybe she was blind and was looking for braille?) and blocked my view of the words. We got over 205 Club and went to our default bar, R Bar, which we will never go to again because we don't want to be with 21 year olds and Asians (my friend is racist but she makes an exception for me). We got over R Bar and went to another bar to meet my friend's friend. By the time we were done, we were starving and went to a diner by my friend's apartment, scarfed down eggs and toast, and went to bed at 5am.

The next day we went to Central Park to lay out. I wanted to get some color on my face before I turn pastey white. Why can't the weather be like this all the time?!

Happy Birthday, Jennifer and Stephanie!

2008-09-19T00:16:00.004-04:00

My not-so-little little sis finally turned 21 today. She's no longer Dung Agnes Cao when she shows her ID to the bouncer. I wish I could be with her to celebrate her birthday and to take pictures of her when she throws up or is passed out on the floor. I miss you, sis...sis who never reads my blogs so I can talk shit on you to the world and you won't even know.

My cousin's birthday is also today. She turned 14. I think she reads my blog so I won't talk shit on her.

(Of course I don't talk shit on them.) Love you both.

Subway Hygiene

2008-09-15T23:04:00.007-04:00

I am never bored riding the subway because there are so many interesting types of people to watch. For instance, yesterday night a guy played his radio on the train and started dancing and using the poles and bars to flip himself over. Impressive. Then there was another time when I was looking at a woman who wore a cute dress and had nice legs...who turned out to be a man. But then there are times when interesting turns into just plain nasty. I'm talking about people who need to work on their hygiene habits, especially when they're sitting in close proximity to others.

Tonight I watched a man watch me watch him as he picked his nose. (This is the second man in the past week I watched dig for dinosaurs.) He then placed his hand on his mouth as if he was contemplating something deep and then picked his teeth with the same finger. OMG, man, that is dirty. He proceeded to picked his nose again. Maybe he gets turned on when people watch him pick his nose and I was feeding his fetish.

Watching the nose picker made me think of some subway hygiene no-no's...and this is based on what I've seen. (Take note, my friends who are going to visit me in November.)

Don't pick your flaky skin and flick them on the floor
Don't rub Bengay or spray obnoxiously strong cologne/perfume on yourself before stepping in the train
Don't sneeze in your hand (use your arm) and then touch the pole
Don't cut your nails and have them fling all over the place
Don't touch the pole and then touch your face
Don't pee on yourself and sit in the train
Don't fart, especially if you know it's going to stink
Don't stand around with your fly unzipped because I don't want that in my face
and of course, Don't pick your nose and then touch your mouth or pole

Back to Reality

2008-09-13T01:07:00.009-04:00

I haven't posted anything for over a week because I've been without my laptop. I had a virus from downloading music (yes, I'm a pirate...rrrrr) and my awesome friend fixed it for me. (Shout out to Premier Solutions for their timely, exceptional service.) Here's what I've done since I last wrote:

1. Had love explosion in my mouth.

OMG, Shake Shack has this awesome vegetarian Shroom Burger, where the portobello mushroom and cheese are deep fried. When you take that first bite into the crunchy outer shell, the melted cheese seeps into your mouth and makes you want to say, "OMG, kill me now, this is so damn good!" They have imitation In-n-Out burgers there but the star of the joint is the Shroom Burger!

2. Started school. I'm taking my four last courses and a practicum class where I'll be working with the United Nations on The Global Compact, a corporate citizenship initiative.

3. Went to the New York Botanical Garden to check out Henry Moore's sculptures.

Hill Arches.

He designed his giant sculptures so that they can be part of nature. The 20 sculptures were spread out across the 250 acre park...I don't think I saw all 20...and I definitely didn't see all of the park.

Draped Reclining Mother and Baby.

The sculptures are meant to be touched and viewed from different angles.

The friend that I went with pointed out that you can view the sculpture differently just from taking a step in another direction. It's like you think you see something one way but when you put yourself in a different position, you see it another way.

This is the backside of the sculpture. Baby got back.

4. Started new internship with cause-related marketing agency.

5. Adjusted back to my old routine of work, school, and some play.

The other day I was walking across the bridge to go home and noticed lights that shot up in the sky. Then I remembered that the lights was for the 9/11 anniversary. It's so sad to think about the thousands of people who tragically died and the families that they left behind.

Great Endings

2008-09-02T14:07:00.003-04:00

Labor Day marks the unofficial end of summer for me. It's the last weekend before I start class again. What better way to spend it than with old and new friends, a few drinks, sun, and even a walk home in the light rain. Oh yeah, I saw a shooting star once again :)

A view of the water from Boat Basin, a restaurant/bar on the Upper West Side.

The crowd dancing at Mur.Mur at the Borgata Hotel. The blonde guy on the right side of the picture was air grinding my friend from behind.

My friends and I went to Atlantic City (AC) to get away from the city. People told me that AC is ghetto and seedy and while we did see some crackheadish looking people, it wasn't too bad...but then again, nothing beats Vegas. We stayed the first night at the Borgata Hotel and went to Mur.Mur to dance. Samantha Ronson deejayed as Lindsay Lohan stood behind her. I took a picture of the dj and the security made me delete it. All the hobbits gravitated toward my shorter friend while we were dancing and I had to throw some elbows so they could give us our space.

The boardwalk in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

View of the boardwalk from The Pier Shops at Caesar's.

The water show at The Pier Shops at Caesar's...a lame version of the Bellagio's water show.

A view of the boardwalk from our hotel room during the second day.

Giant Balloon Dog

2008-08-27T21:53:00.006-04:00

I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the morning to check out the rooftop exhibition, Jeff Koons on the Roof, and the paintings by J.M.W. Turner. I skipped the permanent exhibitions since I've been to the Met a couple times already.

I happened to pass by this guy and he looked like he either had a crazy acupuncture session or he was shot by a nail gun.

I also passed through the Greek Sculpture Court and noticed that almost all the statues had missing heads--both upper and lower, if ya know what I mean, wink wink.

When I walked out the door onto the roof, I first saw these people. If the Japanese are there, then the background must be a good photo op.

Central Park is right below the Met.

This is the back side of the 10 feet tall steel sculpture, Coloring Book. It's actually based on Piglet (Pooh's friend). According to the pamphlet that I'm reading right now, Koons took a marker from a coloring page and colored in various zones of Piglet. See, if I didn't tell you what the sculpture was, you'd think the guy was high when he created it.

A giant balloon dog! It's a balloon-animal-loving kid's dream come true! It's called Balloon Dog (Yellow)...in case someone was color blind or thought that it was something else, like a bunch of ___ stuck to one another. You fill in the blank.

Then there's this, Sacred Heart (Red/Gold). The pamphlet says that the heart suggests people's "dreams and fantasies about candy and luxury goods, intermixed with the potent Roman Catholic image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus." If I didn't read that, I'd just see a heart-shaped wrapped gift. Yeah, I think the guy was high.

The three sculptures.

While I was looking at the heart, fate had to mess with me and Hey There Delilah started to play on my iPod. You have to be careful of what song plays while you're doing something with me because I will forever associate that song with you. Example: if it's your wedding reception and Madonna's Like a Virgin comes on, I will always picture you as a virgin on your wedding night when I hear the song.

It's part blessing, part curse. Even if an event is long gone, a song will spark images in my mind and take me back to a certain time. Hey There Delilah stirs up mixed feelings because it was the song that played before I left to New York. I'll always think about one person when that song plays (sorry DZ, it's not you).

The cool thing about art is that the interpretation lies in the eye of the beholder. Koons sees people's dreams about candy and Jesus' heart. I see a heart that was covered, hiding its true self. Outside it's pretty; people expect to open up the red paper to find something new. But no one knows what's inside except the person who wrapped it. When people ask me, "How are you doing? Are you over him?" I tell them what they want to hear (they never asked me what my definition of "over him" is). They don't want to hear that he's often in my thoughts, that I'll always love him because he was such a big part of my life. People expect me to be strong and to deserve better than him, so I tell them that I'm over him because it's easier to say that than to remind myself that someone else makes him happier, that I will never have him again. So there you have it...I unwrapped my heart for you for a bit, but now I'm going to wrap it back up.

Hudson River Park

2008-08-26T22:36:00.004-04:00

I strolled along the west side of the city today, starting at Laight Street at the newly renovated Hudson River Park. It was another beautiful day and I just sat on the bench, looked out at the water, and ate my bag of cherries.

There's a walkway that runs parallel to the water and then tapers off into the main walkway.

At first I sat on the new stain-free benches.

Some joggers passed me. I thought I felt one man's sweat flicker on me.

I made my way north. New Jersey is across the way.

I passed by a pier but didn't want to walk all the way down...yes, I'm lazy...but my butt muscles are also sore from all the walking I've done the past couple days.

I continued to walk up to Christopher Street and decided to stop there since there were bathroom facilities and an attractive grass area. The attractive grass area also had attractive men sunbathing in their speedos. Hmmm...good looking men + chiseled bodies + speedos = gay (unless it's David Beckham). You may say, Just because they're wearing speedos doesn't mean that they're gay. Well let me add that there was a lot of spooning and giggling going on.

I walked to the end of the pier with my back to the water (and blinding sun) and sat under the white tent to sit and watch people while listening to my iPod. There were four couples sitting around me and almost everyone who walked to the end of the pier was gay. Where am I? Is there a sign that says For Gays Only? (I don't have a problem with gays...I have a problem when they're all good looking and I know that I can't have them.) Later I walked to the subway and saw the rainbow flags and gay porn shops. Duh, I was in a gay neighborhood!

I Majored in Bitchood

2008-08-25T21:46:00.005-04:00

I interviewed for one internship today downtown (seriously people, don't you want me?!) and decided to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge since it was nearby and since I've never done it before. My face was sweating like crazy...if my face could pee, that's how it would feel like (I'm continuing with the burning face analogy so let me play with it).

After strolling 6016 feet over traffic and alongside the river, I was tired and hungry. I made my way to the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory for some delicious butter pecan ice cream. I'm semi-lactose intolerant so I was taking my chances with this. Usually I like to enjoy my ice cream and lick it all around, but this one was melting so fast, dripping on my purse and all over my hand, that I had to bite into it and finish it within a couple minutes. It was some damn good ice cream!

I sat on one of the benches on the pier and looked out at the bridge and city. The sun was shining and the cool breeze blew through my hair. I had one of those moments where I thought to myself, "This is nice...I wish I had someone to share this moment with." So I started talking with the 17 year old girl next to me who worked for the taxi boat that would dock every hour...I talked to her for two hours. It was as if I was playing guidance counselor to a confused teen. I guess if public relations doesn't work out, I can always work at a school.

After I met my friend at Grimaldi's Pizza and we ordered a pie to go. We went next door to the restaurant where she used to bartend to pick up her last paycheck. When we stepped in, this loud 250 pound man told the bartender to get us whatever we wanted. I thought she knew the guy, but no one knew who he was. Then he put his giant hands (which had an ugly diamond-encrusted gold ring for about every finger) around our shoulders and started talking gibberish. I told him his hands were sweaty and he took them off. Later the guy from Grimaldi's dropped off the pizza for us and the sweaty giant insisted on paying for our pizza even though I tried paying him back (I didn't want to indebted to a sweaty giant). Since he didn't want to take my money, I told him to have a slice of pizza. When I was about to get up to leave, he raised his voice at us and told us that he's from Staten Island, he was emotional, we should be patient with him, his mom fell on her head...again, all gibberish. Awkward silence followed and my friend and I looked at each other. Damn, this guy is crazy. Okay, I'll have a slice of pizza with you. Then the guy got up and walked away from us and stopped to stare at the floor. He continued to walk further down to sit at at a table by himself. At that point, my friend and I were trying to decide if we should leave but the giant came back and started talking to us. My friend was more patient with him so she talked to him while I silently ate my pizza. When he talked to me and I didn't answer nicely, he got mean with me.

Sweaty Giant: What college did you go to?
Me: UCLA.
Sweaty Giant: What did you major in?
Me: Communications.
Sweaty Giant: Did you major in bitchood?
Me: (thinking, What the...did he just say what I thought he said?! Why the hell am I still talking to him?) No, I minored in it!

That's right, folks. You heard it here first: According to Sweaty Giant, I majored in bitchood. And I'm coining that phrase. I thought the guy had a psychological disorder but my friend said that he was drunk (at 7pm). We left soon after he established my college major.

Cherries, Karma, and Burning Face - Lessons for the Day

2008-08-24T23:55:00.006-04:00

After writing the previous blog, I called a friend (let's call her Sun since she's a cheerful person and her smile is bright like the sun...plus her name has 'sun' in it) to see if she was available to hang out. I haven't seen Sun since senior year of high school and haven't talked to her since I first met her in 8th grade, so in a sense, I never really knew her.

New York is weird like that--you meet up with people who you barely know and are able to talk to them as if they're old friends since you both share a common background, like being from Orange County or having mutual friends. Or perhaps it's because we crave friendship so much in a city where we know no one that we're able to reconnect instantly. Either way, it was lovely being able to spend a whole day with her, getting to know her all over again.

Throughout the day, I learned several lessons and was reminded of old ones as well:

Cherries - We went to Ching Chong Town for dumplings and bought fruit from the street vendors. I bought two pounds of cherries for some friends for $5 and thought it was a good deal. Then I walked down on the same block and saw two pounds for $4. Eh, it's only a dollar less so it's okay. So I bought another two pounds for myself. Then I walked down a bit further and saw two pounds for $2. By that time, I was annoyed with myself for buying the first thing I saw. Lesson learned: look further down before you make your purchase, especially when the vendor is Asian.

Impermanence - a group of Tibetan monks from a monastery in India have been touring the US for about a year and a half now and every time they break from their tour, they stay at my family's house in California. They happen to be in NY right now and was performing a mandala ceremony at a book store in the city so I stopped by after lunch to visit them. They spent 40 hours over five days to create the sand image and was going to destroy it within seconds. The destruction of the mandala was symbolic of the impermanence of life and served as a reminder for people to not be attached to material things (since all things are impermanent). Someone once told me, You never step foot in the same river twice since the river is always flowing...or maybe I'm making it up...whatever, it still sounds profound. It's very easy for me to get caught up with this material world and I needed this lesson to remind me to keep it real. Lesson learned: all things are impermanent so try not to be so attached to certain things, like your youth or your LV bag.

Karma - While Sun and I were drinking our drinks in a tea house (I love green milk tea!), a mosquito flew by my head and I tried to swat it with my hand. (Ever since I worked at Vector Control, the words "West Nile virus" goes off like an alarm in my head whenever I see a mosquito...along with images of dead birds.) Several hours later after eating at a Korean restaurant for dinner, I felt an itch on my face. I touched my face and felt a bump. Are you freakin' kidding me?! A mosquito bit my face! Grrrr. Lesson learned: there is such thing as karma...and mosquitoes can talk to each other and will get you back for attempting to kill their friend...or maybe the one from the tea house was stalking me the whole time and was waiting to get me.

Burning face - I bought a new tube of Neutrogena facial cream cleanser and tried it for the first time today. I squeezed some onto my palm and applied it to my face. I now know how Macaulay Culkin felt when he put on after shave: it freakin' burned my precious face and I let out a yelp. It's like I had chlamydia on my face except my face wasn't peeing (and no, I wouldn't know what chlamydia feels like) -- the burning sensation lingered for what felt like minutes so I ran cold water on my face. I was also curious to see if the cleanser really did remove dirt from my pores so I washed the heel of my foot with the cleanser (I walked in flip flops for 11 hours through the dirty city) and it didn't work well. Do I not have pores on my heel? Lesson learned: read the label first.

Kill Me Now - The Joys of Apartment Sharing

2008-08-24T09:26:00.004-04:00

Tired from flying and cleaning my room, I tried going to bed last night at 1am. Apparently I wasn't tired enough because my new 37 year-old roomie and his friend's voices woke me up every hour or so...along with their footsteps, the sound of the crooked bathroom door scraping the floor, the hinge on the front door squeaking, and the suction of the fridge door opening and closing. How can two people make so much noise for so long? They must have OCD...or they were high and had the munchies. (I smelled weed when I first walked in the apartment.)

8:00am Please let me sleep in for an hour. BOOM BOOM! The ceiling shook and the light bulb on the ceiling clanged against its glass enclosure. WHAT THE F*CK, PEOPLE, LET ME SLEEP! (The new owner of the apartment is renovating upstairs.) I close my eyes for a bit more while bombs drop upstairs.

9:02am KNOCK KNOCK!
37 year-old roomie: You can use the bathroom now!
Me: Wha? That wasn't me!
Girl who is taking care of my roomie's cat while she's in LA: That was me.
37 year-old roomie: Oops, sorry! I feel bad for waking up what's-her-name (he hasn't met me yet and thinks I'm the girl who subletted my room)

9:03am I want to punch somebody. I try closing my eyes but the pounding is too loud. I decide to wake up but have no one to complain to because most people are still sleeping on the west coast.

When the plane was descending into La Guardia Airport yesterday, I saw the Manhattan skyline with the sunset backdrop and was excited to be in NY again. But the feeling of excitement quickly changed. I miss home. I missed it when I first walked into my nasty ass apartment last night. I missed it even more when I showered in the moldy-rusty-residue-stained bathroom walls and when I used the toilet with god only knows how many asses have sat on it. I just need to give it some time and then I'll become desensitized to my surroundings.

I really don't feel like walking out my room right now to meet the new people but I have to run some errands today. Let the blogging begin...

No Regrets

2008-08-16T18:10:00.007-04:00

My friend asked me if I regret going back home for the summer instead of staying in New York. While I don't believe in regrets, I did wonder what would have happened if I stayed in the east coast.

I would have...
-interned full-time at the United Nations in their media department, met some extraordinary people doing amazing work, and ate cereal everyday because the internship is unpaid.
-stayed in the nasty apartment, listened to Blondie's horrific "singing," probably shanked her, and gone to jail.
-hung out with my friends at the roof-top bars and sit outside the cafes to enjoy people watching.
-gone to the parades and roam the weekly street fairs for some tasty treats.
-given the evil eye to everyone who stepped within one foot of me since I get easily irritated in hot, sticky, I-need-to-shower-three-times-a-day humid weather.

And who knows, I could have met some hot, smart, funny guy...but realistically, I would have met a bunch of creeps. But if I had stayed in New York, I would have missed out on meeting new people in OC, reconnecting with old friends, and bonding with my family and close friends.

I would have missed out on...
-the trip to Vegas where I won $140 at blackjack (I never win!).
-my cousin's graduation at Berkeley where all the cousins went clubbing and a drunk cousin performed a light show with a flashlight that he grabbed from the guy who was sweeping the floor.
-my cousin's birthday party where we rented a paddle boat and row boat and slowly made our way to the middle of the serene lake.
-the trip to San Diego where the warm ocean water and blue skies were perfect and later where my friend and I danced intensely to a bad cover band in what was equivalent to a steam room in a bar while a small man was trying to talk to my friend in a high-pitched voice and a giant man was patting her head.
-hanging out with my teenage cousins and really getting to know them in a way that I never had before, listening to their struggles, fears, and hopes, watching them figure out who they are.
-meeting someone who made me laugh with his text messages and corny jokes.
-going to work everyday and being surrounded by caring, fun coworkers (although I won't miss the dead birds) and then going back to my lovely sister's place to crash on her floor.
-hanging out with some really awesome friends who will always be there for me even if I don't see them often.

There are so many things that I would have missed if I had stayed in New York for the summer, and I'm glad I didn't.

I won't leave out the fact that the beginning of my summer was one of the saddest times in my life, but I am grateful for having gone through it and even more grateful for the supportive, loving family and friends who listened to me and gave me a shoulder to cry on. Everyone was right when they told me that time will heal all wounds; I just had to do it on my own time...hopefully the scar won't be too big. However, I am optimistic of what the future holds for me. I choose to look forward rather than back, to believe in the goodness of people and give them the benefit of the doubt before they can wrong me, to anticipate any opportunities that life may throw my way and make the best of it. Once again, I'm leaving behind my beloved family and friends, but it's only for a short time. I can't wait to breathe in the excitement of New York and see how the last four months will unfold. And when I'm done with my time there, I can't wait to come back to the place I call home.

Star Light, Star Bright

2008-06-30T17:22:00.002-04:00

I used to stare up at the sky and look for shooting stars. Every time I spotted one, I'd get excited and make a wish, even though my wish was already in front of my eyes.

I stopped looking for shooting stars awhile ago. I wonder if I'll ever wish upon another star.

Why We Try

2008-06-23T18:39:00.001-04:00

Why do we keep trying when we know the odds are against us? Why do we want to believe every word they tell us when we know that they're empty promises? Why do we light up when they call even though it always ends up in good-bye? Why do we get our hopes up only to be crushed back down?

Perhaps it's because deep down we just want to be loved, to be with that person who makes us feel so alive...that we'd risk getting hurt over and over again just for that speck of possibility that one day, they'd see us the way that we've always seen them.

Bulldog!!!

2008-06-12T02:00:00.003-04:00

Meet Diesel, my sister's friend's dog.

He's the most energetic bulldog that I've met...he has really big balls, too.

When he gets excited, he slobers all over you.

This chunk o' hunk could have been mine! Diesel's owner offered to sell him to me (he's planning on selling it back to the breeder) but I don't have my own place right now (my mom wouldn't take him) and I have to go back to NY in the fall. I would have totally bought him and made him my BFF...I'm so sad to see him go :( During the short time that I played with him, I was the happiest person on earth!

Almost Home!

2008-05-01T22:56:00.005-04:00

Do you ever feel like jumping up and down and waving your arms in the air while shouting on the top of your lungs, "Yeaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!"? I had that moment tonight. After I finished my last final and walked out the door, I wanted to jump for joy...except I didn't because I was too self conscious of the other students around me and the security guard at the stand. So I opted for the next best thing--call someone who would care.

Whenever I experience something happy, I always want to share that moment with someone else because it makes the experience more meaningful. Usually the first person I call is my BFF...but I no longer have a BFF...cuz I messed up...and someone else probably replaced me as that person's BFF...so I called my younger sister, but she didn't pick up. Then I called my older sister but she had bad reception and didn't answer my call. I didn't feel like calling anyone else after that.

But on the bright side, I'm going home tomorrow morning! Yaaaaaay! Screw this NY rain! It's all about California sunshine, good Mexican food, and Vietnamese food that isn't made by Chinese people.

I'm going to take a break from this blog until I return to NY in August, unless something interesting happens while I'm in California...like if I run over a rabbit.

Brooklyn Botanical Garden in the Spring

2008-04-26T12:08:00.002-04:00

When I first came to New York in August of last year, I visited the Brooklyn Botanical Garden and fell in love with the colorful flowers. Yesterday I went back to see what new flowers were in bloom.

The Cherry Esplanade has rows of cherry blossoms. I enjoyed lying on the grass and staring up at the canopy of flowers. Then I started to have an allergy attack and had a hard time breathing.

I guess SARS is back. At least they were considerate enough to cover their faces.

I looooved the garden of tulips. When I have my own garden, I'm going to plant different color tulips...actually, I'll have my dad plant them and take care of them for me because I'm bad at handling living things...like my roomie's cat...I haven't cleaned out the litter box and it smells like ass up in here.