|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| ...so i know it's been awhile...
and i hope you can understand. i havent left, i've just been trying to get all my ducks in a row. turns out though, that that's much harder than i ever imagined it would be. i suppose i've always been a confident person, in that i somehow believed that things would eventually work themselves out in some miraculous, unexpected fashion and that i would be perfectly content. seeing myself type that out just now, i realize how silly that notion really is. strike out "confident" above and insert "naive," k thanks.
now, the OCD part of me has been bewildered as to why these damn ducks just won't line up. and after much deliberation, i've come to a partial conclusion. i believe it's because i suffer from a multiple personality disorder. okay, maybe not multiple... just 2. i ping pong between two versions of myself: "Young Adult" vs "Adult Adult" or YA vs AA.
the YA in me coaxes me into buying more video games than i even have time to play; watching trash tv shows ending in "___ of love" or beginning with "i love ___," and certain to depict big-boobed platinum blondes brawling or making out; and collecting all the naruto boxsets up til the shippuudens so far. and if you haven't noticed, the YA in me, unfortunately, is also quite a geek.
the AA in me convinces me that LV clutches, ann taylor suits, and bare minerals are all the essentials a woman really needs; NPR is better for me than KPWR any time of day; and a $1 million (minimum) life insurance plan and roth IRA are contracts every person should enter into. and if you haven't noticed, the AA in me, unfortunately, is a boring, risk-adverse suit.
YA and AA argue within me everyday. while YA just wants to lounge at home and replay super mario world on SNES (yes, i still have a working SNES) while scarfing down some flaming hot cheetos, AA insists that we do the responsible thing, earn those benjamins to pay off the mortgage, and eat crap like tofu salad. and while AA glances at the biological clock every half hour of every day, YA believes nothing is more important than my day-to-day happiness.
so you see, YA's ducks and AA's ducks are just too different to try to align. it's as if YA's ducks were made of apples and AA's ducks were made of oranges... and a row of ducks made of apples and oranges just doesn't make sense ...or something like that. im sure my logic has been made crystal clear by this superb analogy.
YA is currently urging me to whip out my MS paint skills for a quick rendition of a row of ducks made of apples and oranges to illustrate how it just doesn't make sense. AA says it's late and time for bed. im torn as to who to be...
...so instead, im going to end this post here, and watch some trash tv with my crap tofu salad. goodnight.
| | |
| ...hey baby, what's your sign?...
ah yes... the epitomic cliche for pick-up lines. we've seen it in movies, we've witnessed it in real life, we can all picture a similar setting...
enter Greasy Guy. he takes a deep breath with a pretentious grin before cursorily scanning the room, tossing his curly highlights with each glance. cock-eyed and smirking, his gaze falls on an unsuspecting target near the bar. He saunters over in his tight animal print polyester pants and obnoxiously plants his big man elbow on the counter next to her, completely oblivious to any notion of personal space.
Greasy Guy (GG): hey beautiful, your feet must be tired...
Fleeting Female (FF): (oh god, not another one)
GG: ...'cause you've been running through my mind all day! mah-hah-hah.
FF: please remove your elbow from my drink.
GG: so i bet you're a leo or a scorpio, huh? you got that fire in your eyes.
FF: no, it's just my astigmatism acting up again look i gotta go.
[FF readies to flee the scene]
GG: WHOA, I DIDN'T KNOW THAT ANGELS COULD FLY SO LOW!! MAH-HAH-HAH, OKAY, I'LL CATCH YA LATER THEN, GORGEOUS!
this fictional excerpt is unfortunately a familiar variation on a nonfictional experience for most females. but fear not ladies, for i have come up with a solution: prowler repellent paraphernalia (PRP). i designed the apparel myself, so (given my renown MS paint prowess) you know it must be effective. i even conducted a test run last weekend with a PRP headband and it was nothing short of sheer success.
enter Greasy Guy.
GG: hey beautiful, your feet must be tired...
[FF is silent, still, ready for her cue]
GG: ...'cause you've been running through my mind all day! mah-hah-hah.
FF: (come onnnn... ask me... ask me what my sign is already before i gag on your 99cent store cologne)
GG: so i bet you're a leo or a scorpio, huh? you got that fire in your eyes.
FF: (bingo!) *ahem* actually, i am a capricorn born in the year of the metal monkey. i am ranked ninth in the ranking order amongst the chinese zodiac and tenth of the astrological signs in the zodiac. i'm associated with the greek myth of the goat amalthea, who provided the infant zeus with milk, and am known as "hou," with a second tone inflection, in my mother language of mandarin. i rule the hours from 3pm to 5pm... which means happy hours are usually good for me. but since it's no longer happy hour right now, you can feel free to buy me a drink after i show you my astrological rage ritual, which consists mainly of snorting with my digits placed like horns to honor the quadriped in me followed by the vocal essence of the my astrological primate half. it's really easy, so feel free to join me at any time.
here is a visual to depict my glory...
and a close up of my capricorn metal monkey PRP headband...
this all worked so well that i have decided to open up shop. this baby could be yours for 4 easy payments of $49.99 or 100 sets of coke and flaming hots. call now... you know you want one.
* caution: PRP is not suitable for use with everyone and by anyone, so please call for more information. custom sizes are available. use of product may cause dizziness, upset stomach, diarrhea, vomiting, heart murmurs, and in some extreme cases spontaneous combustion. offer is subject to restrictions and available for a limited time only.
| | |
| ...and no one will ever know...
there are few things worse than what just happened to me a few moments
ago... subsequent to the completion of a brilliant post, you hit the "save changes" button only to experience an esp-like sense of panic as the page takes just a little bit too long to load. next thing you know, you receive some sort of error message and all your hard work has been lost. i am not angry with xanga. i am more angry with myself... my-damn-always-one-second-too-late-useless-omniscient-ability-self.
ah, the geniusness of the post that will never be... and no one will ever know. i have lost my zeal to post... at least for today. but do not cry for me. i will be back again.
| | |
| ...you will be missed, my sweet vinny... i have loved you so very dearly from day one
 to the day of your final breath
 and until my own day of passing. i can sleep better now knowing that where you're going, there's no such thing as bone cancer, reduced fat cat food, or being neutered. rest in peace, vinny
(5/15/93 - 5/30/08) | | |
| ...deciding where to spend my forever and a day... my mother informed me the other day that a few years ago, she actually purchased two side-by-side burial plots overlooking a man-made pond in Rose Hills Cemetery. she quickly sketches a diagram and says, "i've been meaning to ask you, daughter, which one would you prefer? one of them is closer to the tree and the other is closer to the pond." i was quite taken by surprise. i had never really considered what should happen to me after i am no longer in this vessel of a body. but i quickly understood that this is something every grown person should probably come to terms with sooner or later, and with that question accompanied by a rudimentary map, my moment was now. my first reaction was to choose the one closer to the tree. the reason was two-fold really: (1) i've never liked being in the sun and (2) i don't know how to swim, so such a prime spot next to the water would be lost on my after life spirit. however, i then began to consider all the well-fed and undisturbed birds that probably reside in the tree with nothing to do but chirp and crap all day. hmm... turns out that this decision is actually much tougher than i thought. perhaps being buried is not the thing for me. i started thinking about cremation with the whole scattering of ashes into the wind sort of deal, but then i remembered that i'm not really big on traveling and unfamiliar territory... perhaps my sexy, ashy remains would rest better within an urn. so i spent about half an hour searching online for a nice little urn for me to spend the rest of eternity within. why not buy my urn now while i'm still up 'n about and of sound mind? i'm very picky with my stuff, you see, so not just any urn will do. but clicking through the world wide web searching for my urn turned out to be frustrating as well... 
nah, too old-school boxy...
ehh, too much like a flower vase...
sigh, too egyptian...
no, too fruity...
no no no... none of them felt like something i would be okay with forever. none of them expressed even an iota of who i really am. i realized that, to fully encapsulate me and who i am as a person, i will have to design my own urn. and so i pulled out my special design software that i use for all my artistic endeavors -MSpaint- and got down to business. behold! my custom made urn, specially designed to reflect my passions in life... namely flaming hots, coke, and biohazard zombies (in no particular order) 
mind you that this is still a "rough draft." but at least i have been able to come to peace with my final place of rest. man o man does it feel good to know that a very worthy cremation urn shall embrace me for my eternal afterlife.
| | |
|
