rainy tuesdays make me gloomy

when i was little, my family lived in a tiny twin house. only 2 bedrooms. my sister and i shared a room until i was in the 5th grade. our house was small, but i have only fond memories growing up there. a small yard where my sister and i would hunt monsters and do gymnastic tournaments for the cars passing by. our only big television, which by today's standard is mini, was in my parents' bedroom. on cold winter nights, or even when my sister and i would get scared from nightmares or some scary shadow or things that go bump in the night, we would go to our parents' bedroom and ask, "can we sardine?" i didn't come up with that phrase, my dad did. when we all would be smushed in my parents' bed, my dad would exclaim,"we pack like sardines!" and laugh. i know sardine isn't a verb, but i liked how my dad made it one.

perhaps one day, my kids will ask the same thing to me, "can we sardine?" and i will gladly lift the covers.

to write a song, the summer of shaolin wolf

for the past few days, i have been thinking about what makes a good love song. i have some songs that come to mind that make me hold my breath, make my knees weak and make me wish that i had a song written about me. these songs are rare and few, but they exist. there are some songs that make me sigh. here are a few:

beach boys "god only knows" also the claudine longet version too. c'est tres jolie.
mercury rev "the dark is rising"
galaxy 500 "tugboat"
the zombies "the way i feel inside"
chisel "your star is killing me"
the free design " i found love"
bright eyes "the first day of my life"
the magnetic fields "you're my only home"
patsy cline "why can't he be you?"
style council "you're the best thing"
kings of convenience "i'd rather dance with you"

(these are all i can think of off the top of my mind)


writing a song is different for me. it is not like drawing a comic, or painting or sewing an article of clothing. it is different. for one thing, when i write music, i am usually collaborating. i do all the other things i mentioned by myself. working with somebody can be quite a challenge.

my best friend and i have a band called shaolin wolf. we formed in the summer of 2008. the name alone gets us fans and gigs and having an asian fiddler probably doesn't hurt either. :) if you are a music know it all, you get the name.

the photo above is from the summer. in it, we both feel we don't look like ourselves. it may be the booze or the fact we were watching our friends show at silk city and it was muggy, humid and hot out. but, it isn't a band photo, just a snapshot.

we need to draft our bios. i think it should read something like this:

shaolin wolf. hail from the streets of philly. armed with a handmade guitar and white fiddle, this duo is ready to stir fry some whiskey goodness into your life.

btw, if we do a tour, i hope that we can expect invites for drinks, crashing on sofas and good peeps to show us their towns!

xo

meat eater

i'm no vegetarian. in fact, i am proud to be a carnivore. hey, i'm vietnamese, we eat meat. fact. today as philly got more snow, i know, i know, insane, let's add a couple more inches to your four feet of snow, i got ready to meet my friend joshua for some hot korean food. things you should know about me: 1) black and white cookies, the mini ones are a sure way to my heart and 2) i will never say no to korean food.

i get to the restaurant and it is filled with koreans. a sign that this place is totally legit :) i wait for my friend joshua, who is a non-asian. thank goodness he came in and waved to me since i can't tell one white guy apart from another. kidding people. kidding.

he sits down and the waiter brings out the treasures! yes, i call them that. kim chi. pickled carrots. pickled pickles. salty sardines. ah, i love this! we eat and catch up and slurp down our miso soup. i order the dol sot bim bop beef with the egg on the side. i love this hot stone entrees. sooo good. i am actually drooling as i type. joshua gets the lunchbox. we eat and joshua tells me that he actually has been cutting back his meat intake. i stop eating and my slanty eyes widen. but, he doesn't notice the widening part. he is into yoga and yoga chicks and says the last time he ate some meat was about 2 weeks ago. i tell him that we almost couldn't be friends. he laughs. i ask if he is eating more fish to substitute this lack of meat/protein. he says not really. i tell him, you should eat more salty nuts. nuts have lots of protein! he tells me that there are too many dirty jokes in that sentence and holds back comment. i continue, well, salty nuts are a poor substitute for meat. joshua's face is red and he continues to hold back comments. i continue, oblivious to my friend's red face. did you ever notice that vegetarians are just grumpy people sometimes? they need some beef. vegetarians are usually pizzatarians.

as we feasted on some excellent tender beef, i kept making fun of my friend joshua. he told me that he ran into some lawyers who knew/met me and they told him how i was adorable and they couldn't believe i was an attorney. his response: she can make you cry and she'll giggle afterwards.

haha.

joshua just emailed me. now he has a taste for meat back, he is in total withdrawal. i suggested he pick up some beef at the korean restaurant for his dinner.

vegetarians have no idea what they are missing. meat. mmmm.

next week, we are doing a long brazilian steakhouse lunch. it will be like pearl v. food. who will win?

stay tuned.

work wife

the men in my office are extremely metrosexual and emo. i am not insulting them. that is just how they are. they travel in a pack and like to make sure their ties are perfect knots and their cufflinks are shiny.

i tell my friends that these days, women are looking for men to be wives. my girlfriends are all successful and independent. they don't need a man, they want a man. big difference. my girlfriends don't look for a man at work.

the men at my office crack jokes and like to call everyone a cute nickname. i am usually oblivious to this as i keep big headphones on.

the men at my office tell me that i don't go out to lunch with them, i am not being friendly. i correct them. i do go out to lunch with people, just not them.

i have never heard of the term "work wife." apparently, all the men here have a "work wife," somebody who they can complain to, grab lunch with, nag. it strikes me as odd. i declined being a work wife. i am already busy at work and i don't need to take care of more people.

i declined and this was met with surprise and horror. what?! how could i not want to be a work wife?! imagine the perks. there aren't any.

after we got hit by a snowstorm, i come into the office to be met with a herd of guys telling me: "hey work wifey, can you make some dumplings tonite and bring them in tomorrow for all of us? thanks!" to which i responded by handing them each a take out menu.

perhaps these men should just get a civil union together and leave me out of the mix.

also, when will the people here learn that i am not chinese, so dumplings really aren't my forte?

i don't know if any of my readers have/are a work wife, but it is a lame and retarded notion.

donna reed didn't put up with this crap and neither should i.

rejections

when i wear my game of death work out gear, i feel pretty bad ass. what would bruce do? not only is yellow my favorite colour, but it's my colouring, so to speak. i had asked my best girlfriends in the universe if they wanted to take kung fu classes with me. it sounded fun to me and taking some shaolin kung fun inspired classes would just add some skillz points, if not bonus points to oneself. (kung fu classes +500 points). my girlfriends loved the idea, thinking mostly of kung fu names and outfits, not realizing that the classes require some heavy duty working out. did i mention my girlfriends' idea of working out is handing money over to the clerk to buy cigarettes? the dialogue:

me: uh, yeah the classes require physical activity. i mean, we would spar. the classes are about 2 hours long...(interjection here) each class is 2 hours long, the classes are not 2 hours in total.

them: that sounds like work....

me: ...

me again: well, yeah. it's kung fu, not kung-FUN.

them: we want fun.

me: (packs nunchucks up) ok, i am gonna still do it. just come watch me spar!

them: (nodding) we will. we'll bring signs.

after my girlfriends rejected going to kung fu classes, i began to think about rejections. mostly my rejections. being that it is almost valentines day, how fitting right? hahaha. seriously, i have gotten some lame, horrible rejections.

and for your reading pleasure, i will list them. not in any particular order.

1) rejected to my senior prom because the dude who i went on one date was upset that i did not want to go to university of wisconsin and be a cheesehead. i know people get rejected for prom all the time. for me, it was timing. it was a week before prom and i had spent 2 months sewing my dress. i remember crying, not sure if i cried because i liked the guy, which i didn't really, or because i spent so much time sewing my dress. yeah, that is probably more likely.

2) rejected via speakerphone. before cell phones, there were speakerphones. my punk rock boyfriend thought it would be uber punk of him to dump me during his band practice via speaker phone. i called him to see when i could come over to hang out. dudes yelling and guitars being tuned, i never did hear his band really play...ever. they were always tuning or just causing trouble. i call and i hear him pause, then i hear him say, "things aren't working out. i'm punk, you're not." his lame statement echoed. i am not speaking figuratively, i mean literally. me: "am i on speaker phone?!" him: "uh...no." the band: "yeah." me: " wow. uh ok. i get it." him: "are we cool?" me: "i don't think so. bye." him: " our band is playing a show on..." me: )click) i guess to be super punk, you have to reject people in front of an audience.

3) one can't forget the race factor rejection.
him: "you aren't white."
me: " i know that."
him: " well, i mean my friends..er, i..don't believe one should date outside their race..."
me: (insert wide eyes here, well, as wide as my slanty eyes can get)
him: " you understand right? i really like you and i think you're pretty, but you' re still not white and..."
me: "i'm never going to be white."
him: "i guess not."

fast forward. the dude rejected me based on my skin colour and then later realized he was a jerk and we dated way too long and then i realized he was a jerk and that i was stupid. the clue should have been the conversation above, but i condoned that. c'est la vie, mon ami.

4) rejection via bad haircut. i had been taking bar exam classes and one dude was friendly with me and being that i was new to the philly area, it was nice to have one friend during these long bar review classes. we would text each other funny quips and would make plans to hang out, but never did or it fell through. then we lost touch and when i did run into him again, i had the worse haircut ever. i mean, i looked like a member of journey. no joke. i run into him and he is with his friends and he was taken back by my bad haircut. i think he was trying not to be seen talking to the girl with the mullethead. ok, it wasn't a mullet, but it was bad. if bad had hair, it would have been mine. anyhow, i remember nervously chatting with him, while his eyes just looked at my heap of bad hair going on. then he said," yeah. i'm really busy with stuff...things. see you around." me: (thinking, i need a hat. i need a wig. i need to walk away now) ok, so you can't spot a personality across the room, but you can certainly see a bad haircut a mile away.

5) five. five is a good number for lists. that is what i think. fifth rejection is via AOL IM. yup. picture me all cute, cuddly and lovey dovey IMing my boy. telling him i miss him. telling him i am making him some paintings. being as cute as a monchichi. really. i can be that cute.

me: i miss you :(

him: yeah

me: i know you are busy working, but i wanted to say hi. xo

him: i don't think this relationship is going to work out.

me: is it because i just got back from LA and was away for over a week?

him: no, that's not it. i do hate LA.

me: ok. what is it then?

him: i just don't want to disappoint you. you deserve better. i can't give you that.

me: can we talk about this? face to face. are you really doing this over IM?

him: i don't think we should talk. i'm sorry. (SIGNS OFF)

me: (looking at the screen. so and so has signed off. your messages will be delivered to him when he signs back on)

i kept looking at the IM conversation. i kept thinking he was going to sign back on and IM me a "JK" or ";)" or "LOL"...anything. but, that didn't happen.

there is no emoticon for rejection, but if there was it would have been a snapshot of me at the time.

there you go, readers. rejection done in 5 slices. mmmmm, eat it up kids. we all get rejected from one time or another. it's all how you handle it and for all the rejectors out there, it is all about how you do it. style points. (+0 for the above)

missing maui

today with the wind, philly was 4 degrees. yup. 4. single digits. today i walked 45 minutes one way to meet a friend for lunch. yes, i am the sucker who said, "sure, no problem i can walk there in sub zero weather!" bundled up, i tried to walk briskly.

i love cold weather, i do. it goes against my tropical blood, but i love how the air feels cleaner, crisper. people don't dawdle in the cold. the homeless people aren't out begging as much. not as many creepy dudes are coming up to me with bad pick up lines. everybody has a destination and goes on their way.

as i sat and waited for my friend to show up for lunch, i was warming my poor hanfs around a cup of cocoa. i was about to put some raw sugar in it and it was that instant i was transported back to maui. the raw sugar smell reminds me of maui. the smell of sugar cane and the ocean. salty sweet.

holding the cup, i closed my eyes for a second. i thought of maui. sigh.

then some goober opened the door and left it open and i got hit in the face with cold air.

i miss maui.

my dollhouse

growing up, money was tight. both my parents worked. we never went on vacations because my parents needed to work. my summers consisted of me going to the public library and borrowing tons of books and renting old classic movies. i used to get jealous of my friends who would go to camp. they always had such adventures. since everyone was gone for the summer, it would be my sister and i keeping each other company. we would play voltron. i know, not the typical girl game. we didn't even have the voltron figures! we used our stuff animals and would just imagine that our teddy bear was the head of voltron.

while my friends were water skiing or taking ballet lessons, my sister and i were trying to catch monsters or playing detective or even making up our own language. we were never bored. i didn't even realized how strange it was that we never went on any vacations until a classmate pointed it out. "you've never been to the shore! you're weird!" mind you, i wouldn't have traded any of my summers for some lame overnight camp. my parents are awesome and we would sit around and watch kung fu theater. my memories of my childhood are nothing short of awesome.

being the creative kid, i remember i wanted a dollhouse. my friends had huge dollhouses filled with lavish furniture and beautiful dolls. i remember thinking how pretty. my parents couldn't afford to give me such a luxury. there was left over plywood my dad had not used upon our basement remodel. can't dis the plywood paneling! he helped me put together a shoddy bare bone dollhouse. it was two floors. a box really and the roof was two more pieces of plywood. no door. about 2 windows that my dad cut out with an exacto knife. no porch. no fancy light fixtures. but, it was all mine. an empty dollhouse for me to design and decorate. my little eyes grew wide with excitement. i painted the plywood with my poster paints. i painted it white with yellow shutters. i even painted trees and bushes on the side of the house to give it the cozy suburbia feel. i couldn't afford to buy all the fancy furniture to fill the dollhouse, so i used empty gift boxes, thread stools, anything really. i used clay and molded individual meals to place on the cardboard dining room table. i would spend hours upon hours designing a room. i made books for my dolls to read. i wrote and illustrated mini books. i made yarn rugs for the rooms. my dolls were made from wooden clothespin. i gave them all long hair made from yarn and used markers to paint on their faces. the whole summer i worked on this house and my sister and i would play for hours in the attic with my shabby dollhouse. we did this every summer for about 3 years.

then one day, we were moving. my dollhouse's roof collapsed and my furniture was all bent and worn. my parents told me that it was old and we had to throw it away. i cried. i spent all that time building this perfect home. i never even showed the dollhouse to friends. i guess i was embarassed by it. they all had such fancy shiny things. as my dad put the dollhouse into the trashcan, i stopped crying. my precious house in a pile. i was about to cry again when my mama told me to go inside. my sister and i went inside. my mama put in one of my favorite shaw brothers kung fu movies, the five deadly venoms. my dad cut some mangos and we all sat eating mangos and watching shaolin kung fu. i guess i didn't need to create the perfect home. i was already in a perfect home. at least for me.