Why my childhood should be a sitcom

One of the greatest things about being raised by my grandparents is the fact that I was basically raised in Vietnam (minus the hunger, humidity, guerilla warfare). I basically ran around in circles for hours broken up with eating and watching TV. Sounds like your childhood? Let me tell you why I'm the next "Everybody Hates Chris" show. But instead, it would be "Everybody is indifferent about Annie" but since the title probably won't catch on, I'll just have to settle with some sort of inspiration after I tell my stories.

Once, I got lost at Target, basically a mother's and child's greatest fear. My mom is really funny and nice, but when it came to dealing with me, she was always annoyed. I was always so tired and I never cared so when I went to target with my mom, I usually went to the toy aisle as she stocked up Playtex Maxi pads (true story, she literally bought 50 packages once. It was on sale and she filled an ice chest we were planning on buying as well as the surrounding areas within the cart. Sooo muuucchhhh scanning) Anyways, I went everywhere and I couldn't find my mom and I was convinced she forgot me, and I contemplated walking to my gmama's house. I even paged her on the intercom. TWICE! I was about to cry. And of course, since I had NO COMMON SENSE at that time, I thought she died within the clothing corrals and no one can find her because she's so little. Then I saw my mom at the cash registers and seeing that I was crying, she got really pissed off that I got so emotional for nothing. She pretended she didn't know me, left the store with me following and didn't look at me like we were strangers. I'm pretty sure I was old at this point. Like 13....Speaking of store incidences, I split my eyebrow open at a store near our house ducking under a metal thing and then proceeding to hit my head against a corner of the table. When I asked my mom if I have a bump on my face, she proceeded to start screaming. I got 9 stitches that evening and when people asked if I was crying because I was feeling a lot of pain, I replied with "I DON'T WANT THEM TO SHAVE MY EYEBROW". It was hard to believe that this blubbering mess was so vain, but she was. Afterwards, my mom told me she never got to buy those pants that were on sale and held myself accountable for her lost of the sale item.

Once, I'm pretty sure strangers came up to my parents and asked to take pictures with my sister. Arguably, she was adorable.

but I really thought that they would take a picture of me afterwards, but I literally stood in the back. unnoticed. in the rain.
There probably wasn't any rain, but that was exactly how I felt. Like in a Christmas movie special and a little boy goes into the 'what if' situation and sees the outcome if he chooses one decision over the other. He sees the happy family that he's not part of around the xmas tree smiling and having a good time and he was creeping at the large bay windows outside in the cold. I was that kid.
They probably thought I was a hobo child by the looks of my teeth (or lack thereof)

While my aunt was talking to strangers at the park. I interrupted the conversation by saying "I'm Annie, and I'm shy". I'm an idiot

Once, my partner in crime (my cousin Paul +1 year than I) decided that it was a good idea to express ourselves . By painting. A wall. with my aunt's makeup. A few bottles of nail polish, countless eyeshadows, and blush+ blush brushes later; MASTERPIECE. My aunt resented us. My grandma had to repaint the entire room.

Lastly, Asian superstition. I've always grown up with weird crap put on me and weird sayings to cure myself of things. For instance, once, my grandma chased after me with some sort of substance in a bottle to rub on my huge bruise. When I asked her what it was, she said bear bile. BEAR BILE! WHO OWNS THAT?! HOW DO YOU COLLECT THAT? I don't know, but if you ask my grandma, she will have all the answers. to everything. ever. As an adult, I actually have a voice in what I want to be done to my body, but as a child, I had to endure some nonsensical remedies.
As stupid children, my cousin and I loved running in narrow corridors and slamming doors. As a result, we always had bumps and bruises, especially on our heads (OHMYGOSH, IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW) anyways, big bumps on out heads are usually hidable with hair, but not the ones on your forehead. What's alleviates the booboo? Ice pack? kisses? no. HOT KNIVES. I kid you not, after propelling my face into a wall, I'm usually greeted with a hot butcher knife. Held against my will kicking and screaming, my grandma would have just heated a meat cleaver, salted my bump (i'm not making this up) and then touch the flat side onto the bump 3 times. Why. I cannot tell you how counter-intuitive it is to put something painfully hot onto something that was already painful, but look at me now! :)

The Pains of Writing a Blog

Shereen and I were talking on the phone recently and discussed the pains it was to write a blog. Maybe some of you think it's a piece of cake, but maybe.... you aren't trying that hard to be hilarious. This is an all day thing, man! Now during my downtime of facebooking, tumblring, and redditing, I have to flex my mental humor and express it on the canvas that is Blogger. Well, aren't you guys demanding?

So Sherizzle brought up that unintentionally funny blogs are usually the funniest. Why is this? Well, according to the wise Dala Sherama, it's because when you are writing about something funny, you become dependent on the story to bring the giggles where as other unfunny posts rely on your diction and word choice. So. Here's the deal. All two of you reading this blog. Make a word suggestion or question and I'll try to describe a story in my life/make something up to tantalize your otherwise boring 15 minutes you WEREN'T reading my blawg.

Since there's no instant gratification button where I get a random word at this second, I'm going to go to a random word generator

OH WOW!
I just found a random Name generator and rather than writing a story about some stupid object, I will think of a good story about whatever name comes up. Can you imagine if this was a way to name your children? I guess when you're Kate from Jon and Kate plus 8, now, Kate plus 8, now, no-one-cares-about-this-show-Kate-gets-alot-of-plastic-surgery, you kinda start losing your steam on naming kids. I would start numbering them. Which that one family from 9 by design did. She literally named her kid Five. FIVE. according to babycenter.com, these are the children's names:
Wolfgang 
Bellamy & Tallulah
 Breaker 
 Five & Holleder 
 Major

Yep. I can't decide on my favorite. I guess I'll chose none of them because they're all terrible.

So if you are a lost of names and you want your kids to hate you for giving them names they can't pronounce or spell until their mid-teens, go to this family.

Okay. So I've randomly generated some names over and over and I have been dissatisfied. You are given the option to choose a number to denote commoness or obscurity of names. it's on a scale of 1 - 99, 99 being... these are just clicks and grunts. I'm on 20 and I swear I've never heard names like these before.

1.   Clayton Postel
2.   Jami Orloff
3.   Julio Duchesne
4.   Cody Hermanson
5.   Serena Barlowe
6.   Erik Wedel
7.   Saundra Billick
8.   Saundra Cebula
9.   Althea Taitt
10.   Kelly Weatherall

Really??? Saundra twice? I never knew a Saundra once in my life. Saundra sounds like a name of a woman that works with you mom at an office. The kind of woman that's really nice, doesn't have kids of her own so she really likes asking your questions and she always asks about you during holiday parties. She also has nothing going for her personality-wise so when your mom changes jobs, she doesn't even bother getting Saundra's personal information to keep in touch with. :( I hope I don't get older and become a Saundra.  

OK. apparently. these are names taken from the US census. So these are REAL HUMANS! This being said, I came across this lovely gem of a name

6.   Anjanette Drybread

really? Drybread? No one even likes dry bread the noun but use it as a name? How terrible.

Okay. I found the name I will describe. Here we go!

IRIS.
I personally like this name. Names for me has a lot of positive or negative connotation solely based on individuals who had that name that I knew before. For example, I give all Shereens a million chances to wow me with their humor. However, there's nothing like the original :) Well, I think I've met Iris a few times, but we never had a real conversation. Like most people I know, I met them through ultimate frisbee. The first time I saw her, she was playing for Irvine. We didn't think much of them being that they're probably nonathletic, a semi-consistent assumption about asians. YEAH I SAID IT. I CAN BC I'M AZN. Besides that, I thought that the Irvine team was putting up a pretty good fight. When it came time to play against Iris, I realized, MY GAWD, HER MARK IS HUGE! As in, when she's playing defense, the area that she blocks is large. Not because she's big. nononono. She's quick and she reads you well. Damnit! Usually you have a slit in which you can throw through. But no, this girl, she's sooooo good. I was highly impressed with her, and so were many other girls on my team. I also recollect that someone on the Irvine team asked me if I knew "Tay Tay" aka Taylor. I said, "yeah, we're friends" and she goes on saying "OHHH MYYY GAWWWD. Isn't he sooooo hot? OMG. I went to high school with him and I think he's so cute. owitaoiuergliuanerlgiunalerugnlaerugnlanregargerg" And I said, "yeah, I guess? We're like, good friends and we hang out. k bye." Anyways, that's a side salad of the story. The main course is, of course, Iris. Well, a lot of my guy friends liked her. The ones in Irvine. And so naturally, I was jealous. And I wanted to know what was so great about her. And so I facebook stalked her. And she's soooo cute. Really. this girl is just the whole package. After knowing her but not actually knowing her because every factual thing I gleaned about her it through facebook, she came up in conversation that I had with my good friend, Danica. Danica told me that she tried hitting on Iris once but Iris has been dating her girlfriend steadily for a while. WHOA. GIRLFRIEND? And that's why, children, you shouldn't always be jealous of other people, because in the end, they might have not been a threat all along. Also, another moral of the story is that through persistent facebook stalking and talking about those people behind their back, you find information about them that makes you feel better about yourself. Kidding aside, she's a really great person, from what I've been told. And she really is adorable. d'awwwww :)

And I'm semi-content with this blog. You're right Shereen!

another note on happiness

Wooo! Do you like the B-52s? Do you like Speed? Well I have neither. BUT. If I were to make a band that you can boil and shoot up into your veins in order to give you an earth shattering high, Architecture in Helsinki would be that band. Listen to their music and I DARE you to not be happy. 

how can you not love a person who made a triangle costume out of PAPER?!

I mean, I wasn't planning on dancing, but my foot literally twitched to the rhythm for a split second.
On that note of happiness, I wanted to make a list of things that cause inevitable happiness. I've been thinking about lots of different types of lists but being that I want to tantalize you with images as well as words (so. hot.) those posts will have to wait because my computer hates my camera's memory card. :( Also, some other lists are in the making because I wanted them to be super meaty. Speaking of. I just ate a burger and if I die from a cardiac arrest, you know it's because of Tommy J's AMAZING burgers

Jumping on jumpy things
Think about it. I don't have to. I know jumping is great! I've become an expert jumping picture model and so have my friends.

WEE!

Try doing a jumping picture. OK. Take another. 9 out of 10 times, your faces are the same. Why? I don't know. Why do we open out mouths when we put on mascara and why do we open and close our mouthes when we cut with scissors? It's just human nature.
You know what else you should try? STAR JUMPS. They're supposed to help with agility so we always had to do them for our track workouts. Seriously, I cannot stop laughing when I do star jumps. It's probably because I'm at a delusional state having done a track workout and all I want to do is lay in a grave. That doesn't sound like it would make you happy. But really, look at this fit looking lady

She probably has a 7-video exercise series at the low low price of 5 easy payments of 15.49 not including shipping and handling and if you call now she'll throw in the magic chopper. But seriously though, jump on your bed, or a hoppy couch, or party crash that 8-year-old's party down the street. Jumping is fun fun fun fun and will make you smile sooo freakin hard.


free things
When you go to a convention, or a job fair, or a place where they give free (and mostly unnecessary) swag, what happens? You go straight to the booth that's giving out free reusable grocery bags that-you'll-never-use-because-you-always-forget-to-get-them-when-you-go-to-the-store-therefore-defeating-the-original-purpose in order to put more free crap you'll never use. Cool. Sucky frisbee with a company name imprinted in it. 7 thousand pens. Post-its. But you know what. Free stuff makes people happy. It's true. Like, who doesn't love it when you go to costco around lunch time and they're giving out free samples?! It makes you happy enough to think that 5 pounds of raw almonds are the best thing in order to top off an amazing day prompted by the free samples. But really, free things are awesome when you really don't expect it. It's great at college because they assume we're starving students so they give us pizzas and Monster drinks. Why is Amuricaaa fat again?

clean clothes 
think about it. after showering, you love wearing fresh clothes that don't smell like an animal crawled inside, defecated, ate it, then proceeded to die. Extra points when they're crisp. Bonus extra points when you fit them.

you know what is clean? Bina and I because we fit in a dryer

right clicking
do it. if you can (sorry mac users) there's a split second of euphoria. I don't understand it either, but you have this feeling that something amazing is coming, and it's usually in the form of a drop down menu. Talk about getting your kicks.

new color pencils/markers 
This is so undeniable. Come on, you don't have to use that stub of a pencil that used to be black (obvi the most used color) and when markers are SO SHARP and you can basically trace the outline an ant with it. And you use all these things at an angle in order to preserve them in their original state. Then you have kid cousins who think that drawing hard will make their drawings look better but NO. IT STILL LOOKS SQUIGGLES. But opening crayola markers, It's perfect, the top is perfectly creased and you know no other finger has dug under in order to pull the top off. There's no box face crease from opening it too many times. And the colors are so vibrant. I'm pretty sure i'm going to marry a crayola color pack.

Nadia's sweet 2010 halloween costume. be jealous

There's a thousand other things that make happiness happen. Like alcohol. But these are the ones I can think of now. What makes you jovial?

Not being funny

I have a few posts that I'm working on. But I just wanted to reaffirm my happiness (which will mostly result in sadness due to jinxing myself and because you can only have a run of happiness for so long.)
Friday evening I went to a hipster party which involved me wearing clothes that I wear often. (really? it's just cardigans and skinny jeans. everyone is a hipster) I was being an awesome DJ when the people who owned the laptop decided that they wanted to play obscure crappy music (read: most hipster music) so no one wanted to dance. People requested that I change the music and as I was making a dying party better, they asked me to not. OK. WHO THINKS MAN IN THE MIRROR by Michael Jackson is a good dance song. I see no hands. yeah, because it's a terrible song to grind to. Almost got in a fight. Girl sounded like she was going to cry. Then I left and I felt justified. Then she started changing the music to things I would have played. Whatever. Never trust a white DJ. Us brown folk should be listened to more often. Just saying

Saturday - Went to visit Anjali and Brian in Berkeley and ate at the cheese counter. Awesome! I was so excited to see them and I was dancing as I went to give them hugs. Made people laugh and got really bad gas from delicious pizza. It was worth it. They went for a bike ride and I drank coffee. perfect!

Sunday - Practice Triathlon where I was yelling supportive things (and some other stuff), took out lane lines, and danced on cars. Typical. Then I studied at more coffee shops with lovely Heidi and Becca, finished an essay, and applied for a jawb. Then I had an IM game and I ROCKED. we played savage with girl so I was in every point. I scored 3 I think, layout (unsuccessfully) at the endzone which won me a lot of love. 2 Ds (pretty pathetic). But to be honest, those girls were fast. Then I baked a cake. It was chocolate

Anyways. It ended well but now I shall regret my happiness because I didn't focus more on school. WAH WAH. K. Night

This is my mom.

she looks good.

inappropriate crushes

Well as you can imagine. This post is about people I fantasize getting married to, and that's the extent of it. Because in real life, these relationship wouldn't exist because I have standards to keep (read: not that desperate yet).
We're all guilty of having crushes on celebrities. You know, all those guilty pleasures of the chiseled bodied, hair swooping, hunky hunks. But enough about talking about Justin Beiber, I'm trying to make a generalized picture of perfection here. It may be a combination of talking about relationships (or lack thereof) that has prompted this post, but I think it's hilarious. I usually don't divulge on my crushes, but these crushes are so stupid that I can't help but make myself laugh about them. And if you are the following individuals, please, don't think I'm creepy. Be flattered that I think you're somewhat attractive and I've never thought much about acting on a relationship because it would have embarassingly weird with an extra serving of awkward sauce. Anyways, here goes nothing. And please, a restraining order won't be necessary

Brad
CHMS advisor

Needless to say. My heart broke into a million pieces when I found out that he left Davis for family in Detroit (or wherever he is, I forget). Yes, he's my advisor. And I loved dropping by just to say hello to him whenever I was near his office. Secretly, I knew he loved me. Today I chatted with him online (the primary mode of communication in order to get advising help) and everytime the little chat box had _____ is typing... my heart was palpitating a million beats a minute. He was sooo nice and he's so adorable. A friend of mine even went as far as to saying she went into the Chemical Engineering major because she thought he was so cute. This forbidden love must have ate him inside. I like to secretly believe that the reason he left was because his attraction towards me began to put a strain in his daily functioning. He left in the dead of summer, when I wasn't around. All signs point to my theory. I also theorize that there's a hair harvester that takes all my leg and arm hair of my body which explains my non-existant furriness. So you be the judge of the validity of my theories.

awwwww so cute!

Yeah... we're facebook friends.... DONT JUDGE (me. you can judge him all you want)

Sean Jeffcoach

What can I say. He's adorable! It might be due to the fact that we constantly ran into each other and kept forgetting each other's names. Or the fact that we had a foil ball fight (true life. I didn't fantasize this this time!). or that time I kept running into him because of coincidence (OR FATE). Anyways, if you ever read this, Sean, you're super cute and I'm sure you already know this.

There are many problems with this situation. He's a baby. If only I was born a few years younger. Dang. There are so many instances for that. I really hope I don't grow up to be a gross pedohpile like Mr. Herbert from family guy












I think sean is so cute because he's tall and skinny and he has such a cute smile and his eyes are so small! Is this me loving the asian in nonasian people? I don't know, about my psychological views of handsomeness. All I know is that Sean is a babe.

The one on the right. It's def the smile. 

Aladdin

Probably one of the hottest Disney character of all time. The Streetrat of of our souls. Aladdin.
Think about it, he lies in order to be with you, he talks to monkeys, he potentially has fleas.... oh wait... But look at the picture!

Adorable. He's hungry so he stole some bread in which he had to do an obstacle course that is Agrabah in order to finally get some mean solders to land on some manure which probably made him EVEN HUNGRIER. Then he gave it to some kids. WHOA MAN. THAT'S A KEEPER. except for the whole kleptomaniac point. But hey, he'll always provide for you.
But the weird thing is that, growing up. I SWEAR I thought Simba from the Lion King was hot. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME? can you say 'bestiality' ?

dashing.

I think my adolescent mishap was due to the fact that I was on the brink of hormonal explosion and I loved Nick Carter from Backstreet boys. Think about it. They have similar hair styles. And you know it's all about the hair when you're 9 years old.

Seriously. THE HAIR. I'm just saying.

Blood

Today I donated blood. Awesome right? Nope. It always takes too long. DAMNIT I just want to save a life with my (almost) universally accepted blood. (O+ ). Typical asian blood type. They ignore the fact that I'm super lardy and probably filter out the bacon bits that is suspended in my blood.
Think about it, blood is precious and whenever a natural disaster happens, Red Cross always begs for blood. But they mostly beg for money. 

You're lucky your car doesn't run on HP Black ink. I don't want to get started about colored ink.

You'd think that donating such a fine commodity would be given more perks. No. You get a shirt and a bunch of snacks. GREAT. The wait is also ridiculous. And let's not even get started with bone marrow. Isn't there a way you don't have to use a needle the size of a turkey baster? I'm pretty sure I'm doing you a favor. Today, however, was special because my roommate got me a fast pass and I didn't have to wait in line. YAYY.Anyways. So the problem is that the layer of lard right under my skin seems to hinder vein finders (nurses). There is one particular vein that's a bit easier to find and I only know so because it's been tapped so many times, I'm sure its calloused a cartridge exterior by now. Anyways, untouched for a year (allograph) my veins let its guard down and it was stabbed. Sucker. Ok, well the problem was, the nurse didn't believe me that it was a good vein and she poked my other arm and I started bruising and blood flowed in a tarlike fashion. Ugh. I TOLD HER. Anyways, the other arm got milked and after a stressful time I had to go to discussion to turn in my Lab report (WHICH TOOK FOREVER TO FINISH) because I had a TA that considered 10 seconds after the start of class as late. . So after I was bandaged, I ran out of there. OH MY GAWD. It was like being drunk and being the thurstiest you've ever been and sweating a bunch and your heart is palpitating to the song, "Sandstorm"  (33 seconds in) I had to stop but it was awesome because I used it as a convincing argument for my ta to accept my lab on-time. Then I drank half a bottle of water and felt better.

AM I FAYMUS?

HI GUYS! Blogger stats told me the blog had 18 views today! YAYYYY 10 might be mine but still. AWESOME! thanks bina, shereen, erin, and audrey (and maybe vicky sometimes i don't know if you count because you have ccs feed something technological). wooooooo keep refreshing.

fears, tears,and britney spears

Halloween was yesterday and it was a fun event in the family household. At first, it was a tense time (immediate family issues) but it ended up being a worthwhile trip home. Halloween is associated with scary things. Goblins, ghosts, gouls, fat guys in lady gaga costume, and etc. Although I was not recently freaked out (that was reserved for the day that I went to the corn maze. Oh gawd, never again) There are a lot of fears I hold inside. Like the fear of anything crawly. And the fear of dirty wet feet. gross gross gross. But beyond everything, I fear that I'll die a miserable lonely life with no husband or child. At the tender age of 22, you may be wondering... WHY WOULD THIS BE OF CONCERNED. I'll tell you why... because 1. I have had bad luck in the realm of love 2. my family is ALREADY PRESSURING ME and 3. i'm not getting any prettier and i'm not very pleasant so there's absolutely nothing going for me other than this blog which only has, like, 2 readers. All of which are women. AWESOME.

breaking up large amounts of writing with an image

But I diverge. Kinda. I wasn't going to write about the possibilities of why I'll be a miserable spinster woman with cats that I hate because I hate cats. I wanted to write why I think I should be a mom some day.

1. I'm pretty good with kids. - it's no surprise that my cousins love me and think i'm the shizz. It's because I'm just as loud and rowdy as them, and although I am 'one of the guys' I'm also a respected figure. This is usually because i weigh 3 times they do and I threaten to flatten them with my huge badonkadonk if they don't listen to me. But it's all comedic times and I love spending time with them. Babysitting/teaching them on the other hand, I want to stab them, which kinda disproves my theory that I'll be a good mother so please omit that piece of information from your memory

2. Kids like to look at me - Imagine you see the most beautiful person on the planet. Okay. Imagine you're a baby, that beautiful person is me. No joke. I have this magnetism for kids eyes. I think it's because they're looking at my boobs and are thinking "cool, lunch" or they see my enduring youth-like appearance (YAY for being azn) and they see themselves. But no matter what, they like to look at me. And it's weird because people don't get it when I tell them, and then it happens in public, and they're like... hmm.. peculiar but really... IT'S WEIRD. KIDS LOOK AT ME. I like that though. It's nice to know the only guys who check me out happens to be wearing diapers struggling to stand and not drool on a regular basis.

3. I dream about being pregnant. And you know when you have those dreams, you think, OH SHIET! WHAT TO DO? Most people have concerns about who the father is, or how this happen, or how will I support this child on my income of 0 dollars, etc, etc. NO. My main concern was why I wasn't fat enough and I proceeded to eat more. Good mom. Just think, if you were ever pregnant, you can say "I have to eat for two" and proceed to eat for twenty, and no one can say anything because you're pregnant and you're doing it for the wellness of your child* Well, I can't wait to wear maternity clothes and go to a buffet. But why am I telling you about my weekend when I should be focusing on when I will be/if I'll ever will be pregnant

google image>"pregnant annie">result

*statement does not apply to alcoholic drinks

4. Most importantly, I am SUPER CREATIVE and I make the best things ever! - This must have some sort of background. My friends are the most creative individuals EVER. Stemmed from previously creative people (my friend/twin, Stephanie, has the craftiest mother of all time. Ever seen a Harry Potter book cover on a cake... I HAVE, and it's all due to Stephanie's mom) and the fact that I went to an all-girls high school so all our pent up hormonal imbalances was channeled into outdoing one another in artisticness. So, thank you ND for giving me a foot up in being a mom (the irony). This is evident in my recent attempt in making Halloween costumes. And as you can see below, I was R2D2 and my goddaughter was Princess Leia. YES. I made my entire costume and YES I made her entire costume down to the cutesy hat. I am very proud, obvi, but this proves that every ballet recital, Halloween, school play, I can totally deliver in the costume department. Woohoo! So what if I'll feed them nachos and chicken nuggets for their entire lives because I can't cook. They'll look so good (and malnourished) in costumes I'll make by hand (and hot glue! because I can't sew)

OMG. Lauren is so cute when she doesn't scream in my ear

Now that I have written this, I'm deathly afraid that I/ future baby-daddy is going to be sterile. OH GAWD. I guess I can always adopt, but being pregnant seems so awesome! AHHHH knock on (sarah) wood. Oh well, We're all going to die in 2012 anyways and there's no prospective fathers so I'll just be a mom to my cousins for now. Plus, I wouldn't have to deal with the sucky parts of actually RAISING a child. I can just play and dress them and laugh all day and be the cool adult rather than the sucky make-a-thousand-rules-to-make-your-life-lame adult. YAYYYY win-win for Annie!

these are a few of my creepist things...

I am a self-proclaimed stalker. I stalk people I know, and people I just saw in person, and people on my newsfeed.
Alright, first of all, if you didn't want people to know, don't publicize it where people can access it. If someone stalks you, it's your own damn fault. That's why I block my facebook from my family members.

So anyways, recently this has come back to haunt me. Kinda. After I ran in SF, I went to the bag check to retrieve my bag. The person who helping me was a fellow who went by the name Ben. I have never met Ben, and I am positive he knows nothing about me. I've seen him in my frequent facebook stalkings of his friends and found that he was a recurring member of the photos. Inhibitions (as well as dermal senses) lost due to exhaustion, I told him that I know of him through sis friends. It was until then that he realized that I might be one of those girls who stalk people on the internet at 3 am eating twizzlers and slim jims making shrines of celebrities and other boys who were nice to me. I'm not that. all the time.

But the absurdity for my ability to stalk is frightening. Not only am I an efficient stalker, I also have an uncanny ability to remember everything about everyone. So when I run into/meet/i am caught lurking in the bushes the said person I stalk on the world wide web, awkward conversation happens and I am left in the uncomfortable position of whether I knew a piece of information about this person through speaking to them, or facebook stalking.

I'm not that terrible to be honest, but if I end up having a crush on you...

hide yo facebook, hide yo tumblr, and even hide yo twitter feeds. I be stalking everybody.

good idear

That's the way my teacher says "idea". He says, "Idear" and it's allowed because he's obviously from Germany and he faintly looks like a chubbier Brad Pitt.

Guy on the left. Hey... where's angelina and your 398742834 kids?

This blog isn't really about him. It's actually dealing with good ideas. The creation of this blog is a good idea because now 3 people have something to read in their spare time. It wasn't a good idea to get a salami sandwich today. It was also not a good idea to drink wine while studying last night. It was a good idea to go to the library but it was not a good idea to forget my ID card because everyone went to hang out at the bars. It was a good idea that I wore my ear flaps today and it wasn't a good idea to eat an underdeveloped persimmon. It gives you cotton mouth btw. It's good idea to wear a bra in public but it's not a good idea to stop brushing your hair if you want to maintain a perception of hygiene. It's a good idea to sleep early and a bad idea to stay up blogging... oops. You catch my drift. The reason why I brought up the idea of..."ideas" is because I thought it would be useful to use a random word generator in order to jog my memory for a good story. The word that came up was :"climbing". I can write a bunch of things about climbing. Something that is really popular now is rock climbing. I swear, everyone is 'bouldering' and 'dyno' and outdoor ropes and callouses the size of their hands. Awesome........ But that's not what I'm going to talk about. I will also not go into the time I was talking so much trash against my sister when were doing a climbing wall and she totally schooled me. Embarassing. This is a story of when I had to climb into the second story without a ladder.


Now that I think about it, it's going to be a short story. Once my cousin locked herself in a room and she couldn't get out. This being summer, we were worried about her well being, and he tears and screams didn't bode well in our minds. I had a really good idea of stacking things to get to the second story. It began with a table with wheels.A great base for a sloped driveway. Then a tall table, then a box, then like, this triangular thing which made the platform slanty. Overestimating my stacking abilities, I climbed to the top and clung to the side of the lower level rooftop. All i had to do was pull myself on top. I could muster up the strength i'm pretty sure............ it was a one shot jump kind of thing, it looked like my elevation structure could only with stand one forceful push before it crumbled into woodchips. Seeing that this may be a safety issue, my neighbors across the street offered a ladder, and my grandma actually had a friend who had a ladder and she walks it down the street. Using common sense, I used the ladder and got into the room where my cousin was laying on the ground silently and bored. And that was how I saved my cousin from heat stroke

Dressing on the side

Do you ever look at people and think, "wow, what were they thinking?" Like some sort of self-appointed guru in fashion, I have rebuked frumpy frans and outdated orphilias since I got my first pair of platform shoes.

Thank you Spice Girls for my 3rd grade fashion!

But lately, I've been reevaluating myself. Am i REALLY dressing well? I don't remember my last clothing purchase (ok i do, it was a shirt dress and it was pretty darn cute and cheap... and also a bit over sized but it makes me look thinner...) But on a day to day basis, are people really judging me?

fig 1)

The typical frisbee attire. I forget the mounds of fat that rolls around my stomach that becomes accentuated when I wear this. Not to mention the see-through-ness of my leggings and my penchant longing to wear the brightest chonies when i decide to wear this. The above picture should also have the following photo in the equation

this pictures is not actually me, but closely resembles it

Once I went to class in the above attire, and I realize that these v-necks actually need replacing. Many washings as well as dirt chucks that attach itself to said shirt when I lay out during frisbee practice has turned these white shirts to off-white-boarder-line-grey-shirts. As I was talking to the girl next to my on the computer, she was looking at me then my shirt, then quickly realizing her mistake, looked at my face again. She was looking at the rim of discoloration around the collar of my shirt. Mortified and not caring at the same time, I decided to not wear that shirt anymore. From then on, I check for stains in brightly lit areas rather than the first one I found on the floor.

fig 2)

Notre Dame Cardigan

Not a vase, a strapless dress

This is not too bad. Except for the fact that the cardigan is literally my ND uniform. I like it! I've gotten complements... from former students on the Davis campus. It's cool. I think I've gotten other complements from other people, but it was also really dark  and they were partially intoxicated probably. And they had cataracts. And they under the spell of always-telling-a-lie. But it's not terrible except for the fact that I'll wear a nice dress only having to wear something over it so it would look decent. If you know me, I can make a turtle neck look indecent. Thanks, mom! for these chestical growths pouring out of the front of my dress. I do have a lot of cute dresses though. Too bad that I had to be covered by the banality that was our uniform. You can take the girl out of all-girls-catholic-school but you can't take the all-girls-catholic-school out of the girl. Whew, that was a bit much to type out.

Fig 3)

EVERY SORORITY GIRLS' BASIC NECESSITY. OMG. TEHEEHEE

Ignore State printed on the side

Literally, this is what I woke for like 3 days straight. Why? well, one of the days was a midterm, and the other times, i was just cold. The northface sweater above is literally a fundamental piece of clothing sorority girl. Sometimes i wear it with fig 1's attire and put my hair up in a messy bun and pretend i'm a skanky ho that's majoring in anthropology and love the color pink. But lately, I've toned it down and I've been wearing them with my pilling sweats for lord knows now long ago. (i do remember wearing them during middle school. ancient times dating back to 9 years ago. OMG.. nearly a decade. WHERE HAS TIME GONE? I'll tell you where it's gone. it's gone into the seems of my blue sweats and unraveling it to pieces one thread at a time). 

You know why else this jacket may look familiar to you? My entire family has it. Including my grandma.
Mom: "it da goot deal. 60 dawla! i buy fo. one fo you, fo vi, fo grandma, fo mommie. And daddy get one too. onlee fitty dawlah. soo cheep!"

vi tran via facebook: "mom bring asian flair to france"

So yeah. I dress terribly now. I keep thinking to myself that possibly one day, I'll get a job and maybe finally, I'll buy real clothes. Even at retail price! So now, if you see a girl who's dressed as though she's a haggard hobo. Hit a sista up! That's me!

Mewzik

Everyone always say that they love every type of music. All but COUNTRY. It's what we put in our music section of our Facebook. Right after we list Lady GaGa and Justin Beibz. Well since most of my friends aren't white hicks, I may have a skewed view of things. And all of you who say you do like country because you like Taylor Swift and Lady Antebellum. Please. Stop fooling yourself and refrain from living in Lala land that is your disillusioned state. If Wild 94.9 can convert your 'country' song to a dancey-club hit, chances are, you aren't putting enough twangs and references to your oversized truck in your song.

Music speaks the words of our souls. Why else would we quote relatively famous quotes in our profiles and statuses if it wasn't the case. There's nothing more original in expressing your self/thoughts/beliefs/opinions/originality than writing a lyric to your fav song. 

I diverge. I am a bit of a music snob. But really, I do listen to music way before it drops because I'm basically a music producer, but in reality I stalk hypem and elbo.ws to be super indie and hipster. I listen to an array of tunes, but I like obscure beats and sounds. Unorthodox instruments in harmonious cacophony is my fav. Sweet Disposition really sticks out of my head even though it actually doesn't follow my previous description. In general, I like songs that are pretty slow. I'm a big fan of DCFC and Iron and Wine right now. Very sit-in-my-room-in-the-dark-all-by-myself music. As you can imagine, it's music to get you no more motivated than conjuring enough power to start crying and sulking in the fact that you COMPLETELY relate to the song even though in reality, none of the events in the song ever happened in your life. Oh Ben Gibbard, your lyrics speak pages of my biography (a fictional work) ! 

Most of you (all 3 of you who read this blog. Myself included) if not all, know I have successfully done a marathon. 26.2 miles of "WHY DID I THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?!?!!" Most runners prepare in many ways. Most, if not all, train and eat healthy. I trained... kinda. when I wasn't too tired. And I ate healthily, and unhealthily when I felt like it. Most runners carboload the night before. But since my diet already consists of 95% of carbohydrates, this didn't prose as a problem for me. I stretched kinda (you know when you wake up?) and I was good. But you know what made me great? The fact that I made the bombdiggidiest playlist. I borrowed my friends iPod and had to go through the excruciating pain of downloading anything onto my elderly computer. It has had a good run, but functions mostly on lots of positive thinking, patient coercing,  love and medicare, like most old people. Anyways, among the tangle of technology my playlist ended up organizing itself in alphabetical order. Which was stupid. It also mixed two playlists together. One playlist was for downtime and the other sounds were pump me up song. UGHHHH I was outraged but mostly, I was annoyed that I figured this out so late. It didn't matter, all that mattered that one song was on the pump it list, and it was. Usher - DJ got me falling in love. Let me elaborate. Pump up music must be the trashiest of music. It must have a strong fast bass beat and the lyrics must involve the least amount of human intelligence as possible. In running music, the theme for song lyrics in a song is "less is more". This is inversely proportionally to eardrum-blowingly loud beats. So when I saw that New Boyz - You're a Jerk was followed closely by Lil Jon's Freeze with the Usher kicker. There was a lot of repeats. It made me want to run because I would save those sounds for the run, and it was good incentive to run faster because in your mind, you were thinking "MY GAWD, if i don't finish within these songs, I'm going to have to listen to Rhianna." Towards the end of my marathon, the only thing that kept me going with Usher. So, Usher, thanks. 

Phunnie Phamilee

This was in the latest installments of emails my mom has send to the family as she spends her time basking in the aura of holiness. She's recently departed to Euroland where she will be pilgrimage (pronounced pil-gri-mauge in Ye Old English. Thanks Chaucer!) to Catholic holy sites. The Ground Zero Mosque if you will. (just kidding. too soon?) Anyways, this is the following message:

we went to a lot of places in Rome. om taook a bus ride at a middle of the night / me. we kissed a lot of saint bones and Jesus stuff, touching the holly things.

took a lot of pics. mom has a good time w/ bunch of her oldies.

bye for now.

Love u all,

Le

Why was it, that one fateful day, my TA asked if I was born in a different country and that my misspellings and grammatical errors were common to those in her ESL classes? Dunno. Can't be because of my mom because she's obviously a Nobel Peace Prize winner in writing. But it was an entertaining thing to read. 

What I like most about my mom is that she's funny on accident and on purpose. She also likes attention. I am my mom. 

She's also good with remembering good stories. Here's one for the Annie chronicles. 

"Once, we got our airline tickets when you were about 4 or 5 and you were looking at them with your dad. Your father showed you the first ticket and pointed to the name. You correctly answered, "Annie Tran". Impressed, you dad showed you the next ticket. He, again, pointed to the name and asked you to read it. You exclaimed, "Tuan Tran"! At this point, he was really excited. "A CHILD PRODIGY! MY CHILD IS GOING TO BE A GENIUS!" Then the moment of truth. 

dad - "Annie, what does this say?" pointing to the name of the 3rd and final ticket

annie - "Mom Tran!"

The hopes and dreams of this father for his daughter came to a crashing end. She's not going to go to Harvard. She's not going to be really good at chess. She won't acquire the ability to play piano arpeggios with her back facing the keys. Or do a no handed triple somersault. She was not meant to be a child prodigy of any kind.

I was born to sound and write like a fob. Awesome.

Cheezus Cripes!

It's not unknown that I don't like a lot of people. I'm pretty blatant with my inner rage when someone who I strangely despise is near (or happens to pop in my mind at the time). I used to not like this girl because she ALWAYS repeated everything I said. She said it "for herself" because it was funny. Which makes absolutely no sense. Why would you even think that made sense? Think about it. When you see a shooting star, it's amazing. when you see another shooting star afterwards...well, that 1st shooting star wasn't so special now was it? I'm not saying that my jokes are out of this world. I'm just implying it so that you can subconsciously think that when I'm really feeding you these beliefs. But seriously, her echo of the funny thing I said was like a diffusion of an explosion's magnitude. I am a hurricane and she is the everglades. How will I break the levies of laughter in New Orleans if she's taking the winds out of my comedic storm? So the moral of the story is... destroy nature? No. I just don't like people sometimes. I get irritated by little things and it's an unfortunate occurrence when a well meaning friend has an irritating idiosyncrasy they have blindly been accustomed to.

Well I think I've gotten better. Usually I try to refrain from sarcastic remarks, but it's so difficult when literally 50% of whatever comes out of my mouth is an exaggeration or the complete opposite of what I am really saying. Awesome. I'm a liar and a hater.

problem? solution!

seriously. this is a 'real' term. :http://24hourhiphop.com/hip+hop+Fashion/HATER+BLOCKERS/1911/

Why am I even bringing this up? Well you can guess correctly, I have recently been irritated by someone. There's a girl in my garden who really thinks she's amazing and is pretty much the most privileged white girl ever. (and there's sooooo many in the world)! Please girl. No one cares about your iPhone 4. Nor do we care about how you life in 'THE CITY" (SF not NY. Please) and no one cares that you are taking 17 units NOT COUNTING THIS INTERNSHIP. PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. this 'internship' is gardening. I'm doing this as a volunteer job so please so not tell me about how difficult your first year as a plants and society major is. SERIOUSLY. and lord have mercy on your soul, you HAD to finish all your work because your boyfriend (really? her?) is coming up from the weekend. Wooohooo. And when I said that I was going to be out of town next week for a marathon and I said how I didn't like running. Please don't jump in telling us how you LOVEEEE running. You don't look like you like running to anything other than an ice cream truck. Run 15 miles and tell me how much you love running after that. Yeah, and you still have 11 more miles for a marathon. KTHXBAI. and way to treat your friends like dirt and yell at them thinking they're stupid because you can't seem to unlock your own bike. Why is this girl gardening? Aren't gardeners good people who love plants like Peter Pettigrew (edit: Neville** my bad was too caught up in the moment.) ? Harmless, awkward, adorable, and confidentless (other than that time he stood up to his friends and won Gryffindor the 10 extra points they needed in order to win! YAY!). But seriously, this girl, shouldn't speak. She's one of those people who leech on and 'slyly' directs you into the conversation about themselves. I don't care about how amazing your boyfriend is. Or how amazing costa rica was. Or how you barely studied and did better than your peers. IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER IN GRAD SCHOOL! I'm tired of hearing you talk about yourself. I rather talk about myself to someone else. thanks.

Being productive. HA

So today I went to class late because I decided that staying in bed and sleeping in was more productive than a pamphlet that is due today. Needless to say, I HAVE NO REGRETS. I was at the computer lab where we get free printing so long as the printer that charges 5c a page stays broken. I'm saving up all my small change. You know, to jam the printer. Oh, you must have thought I was going to say to pay for my prints. NO THANKS. I am here for a 5th year and they're sucking enough money out of me. I WANT MY FREE PRINTS

In other news, I went to the library to do two things. Do Pchem hw. And blog. typical library duties. Well, I went to the computer lab but one of them has been converted into a special needs media center where the screens are literally HUGE FLAT SCREEN TVs. Not wanting to face persecution for using these projector screens to write about jewish people, ;) , I went off in search for a less conspicuous computer.

Today my mom went to europe and I'm very stressed about the whole ordeal. I hope her and my gmama are okay. They're going to europe with a bunch of old vietnamese people who's main concern isn't the pick pocketing, but rather, if a rice cooker is a possible check in item. SERIOUSLY. My mom texted me this morning before she left. She said that it will kinda suck because she's going with my gmama. I wanted to respond with a text that said, "one day, it may be the same with us, what goes around comes around". A message about charishing the time you have with your mom. I wanted to write said message, but I only thought about it. because sleep was more valuable to me than teaching my mom a lesson about loving her mother. Oh the irony.

I keep scratching the bug bites I got from yesterday. There are a lot of things about frisbee that I don't like, namely, the long practices. People suck now because they're just learning so I have to be patient. It's cold. We don't play nearly as much as we should. and the bugs. MY LORD davis needs a spray down like the mosquito sprays (cancer causing misting) in Eygpt.

Looks like a cloud! But don't touch it!

Also, recently, I've been eating a huge slice of pie everyday. 6 dollars for a costco pie. To myself. Why does america have an obesity problem? It's been fantastic except for the fact that I ate some pie and honeyed ham right before practice yesterday thinking that my body is capable of amazing things. Such as containing food consumed 15 minutes before during a ton of physical exertion. It was cool. I didn't puke. that much. and it was really a burp. a watery one. with chunks of pie and ham. I know, it really was more of a November month type of burp. October burps should have been more candy filled, but unlike a pinata, this is a time where you don't want to see the candy come out.

Day One - and so it begins...

Being the narcissistic person that I am, I went to the hits page of my blog half-hearting-hoping (let's be real, I was full-heartedly hoping) that I had people reading. Potentially, someone, out there, somewhere, has stumbled across my blog in the off chance that they typed in a keyword such as "Grandma" or "hoola hooping" (unfortunately not in the same blog post). But no, it looks like one person has visited my blog lately. Oh yeah, it also counts when you read your own blog. Needless to say, I've just been refreshing my page to up my numbers. Whatever, just like that new facebook movie, "you don't make a million friends without making some enemies", or in my case, you don't make (it look like you have) any friends unless it looks like you have (falsely generated) visitors. WOW. There are alot of parenthesis going on. I think because I'm trying to convey what I'm thinking in a way that I talk. If you see parenthesis, please take the liberty of imagining myself saying it in my voice, very coyly, with a raised eyebrow. Or saying it in a very sarcastic manor. Or in pirate talk. It was meant to be said.

Anyways, as my eyelids droop like that of droop dog (heh), I must describe my recent commitment to the Hillel House. Sounds ethnic you say? Sounds like... hill. which is like a tall mass of land... which is like a mountain. mt. saini? yes. Through deduction, you have figured out that it's a house for jewish people. which is AWESOME.
WHY JEWISH PEOPLE ARE AWESOME.

they love money!

 they love stars:

They love the movie, "Inception"

Anyways. The reason I bring it up is because we're making Challah for Hunger which is a project where we're making bread, selling them, then using the money to give to hungry people. Great concept right? I love Challah bread. I swear, it's one of my top breads. French bread will always be number one, but there's a bunch of number 2 breads that I can't decide on. Challah is definitely one of those breads though. You know when you see it, that you want it. It's like that hamburger you want when you're in a foreign country. You didn't want it when you were in America, and now that saturated beef patties aren't readily available in your local drive-thru, it's all of a sudden the ONLY thing you can think of. But the point of the story is that Challah is pronounced, "Hallah" but I like to think it's really pronounced "CHAHLAH". And then I sing "Challah back youngin' (woo woo!)"

Fabolous

If you are unfamiliar to this rapper's one hit wonder, please click on the reference below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X3yolF8EyGQ

time:0:55

Anyways, I'm reconnecting back to your other roots, Shereen! Awesome right? I'm serving both of your communities. 1st, it was me telling formally religious fellows that their actions were "haram" and now, this. So, your welcome! and tell gmama Ruth I said, CHALLAH BREAD YOUNGIN' WOOWOO!

A new month a new feat

Hello nonexistant blog readers. This is the beginning of something monumental. This is the blog off with one of my best friends, Shereen Masoud. It will be a difficult mission, but I think it will be one that's worthwhile. One not heavily referenced to alcohol abuse (haram) but one that is interlaiden with embarassingly bad puns and geeky references. It's going to be a tough time expressing myself without using other's people's words and picures (Tumblr) but this is a challenge that I have taken on in order to stretch my witty abilities. It's on turban-wearer (hahahahhaha jk. you don't eat curry). But seriously. I hope you seriously laugh the entire time you read this because if puts a smile to my face knowing that I'm going to be entertaining one of the funniest people I know. I hope this is season 1 of modern family and nothing like the premier episode of season 2. but i would settle for a chuckle. or maybe an asthmatic wheeze. Here's looking at you!

Scary films remedy

I just watched Shutter Island and it's a GREAT MOVIE. The only problem is that it's too much of a thriller. I was fearing for my life the entire time. To protect myself, I used the most effective protective stance: I pulled a blanket up to the bottom of my nose and watched the movie through my fingers. The movie never attacked me. Feeling good and a little bit fearful after the movie ended, I made sure to feel better about myself afterwards - I'm watching Monster's VS Aliens. So far, I'm feeling better.

Maybe as a source of dowry, or currency

I swear, at least 75% of the conversation with my grandma involves food. She insists that I never go hungry (and I'm pretty sure I have fat reserves to sustain me for months just in my boobs alone). The most frequent food she insists is fruits. Certain fruits are a special commodity. The Rambutan for example - my aunt recently went to Flo Rida (state not rapper) and smuggled us a bag full. As much as I enjoy these hairy balls, they make my throat itch for I am allergic. I also like Jackfruit, but I get tired of it easily since it's extremely sweet and makes my mouth parched every time I eat it. I like fruits but I'm very particular about the amount. Anyways, I swear, if we're not talking about when I'm going to get married, why I'm not trying to be a doctor, or why my skin is so dark, we are talking about food. And it's usually about me taking some sort of fruit from her. Thanks but Nah, ma.

My mom says I need to stop carrying my cousins because I look like a mom. Maybe it's my uncontrollable maternal beacon but kids seem to like me. Because of that, I hang out with my cousins, niece (just one!), and nephews a lot. This, despite looking younger than my sister and being shorter than the average 12-year-old, makes me feel like I should sign up for 20 years younger on TLC. I would actually like 2 but that's what's hot now-a-days right?

Without children in tow, I can pull off the kid look. I went to YMCA to get a free membership today.  I could get one as long as ! pose as my cousin's (an employee) 20-year-old sister. I memorized her address but what I failed to consider is the actual year I was born in. So first rule of being a con artist, get your facts together!
I got the membership anyways so cool. And if you needed to know. it's 1990.

My family is FUNNY

It's without a doubt that my family is funny. My cousin, Bryce, was the star at the show (unsurprisingly) during his recent one-man-hula-hooping show. I always prided myself on winning the hula-hooping contest in middle school. I won a one dollar prize at the student store. I think I got a water bottle (TROPHY OF CHAMPS). But in reality, I would be dethroned as the best hula-hooper in the Nguyen-Tran dynasty.

Bryce stole the show with his holocaust-resembling body gyrating in interesting feats. Thought you could hula hoop? This kid can double the speed and fast-forward it overtime. You can do tricks? This kid jumps while he hula-hoops. JUMPS! If he wasn't a boy, 9-years-old, and didn't hit puberty yet, he would be the greatest Vegas performer, but alas, God works in mysterious ways.

But enough with Bryce, the greatest stand-up commedian is my cousin Kevin.

You know how it goes in the VN! karaoke, baby. Kevin's the one spittin' rhymes on the mic

Always quick witted and is a one-upper. My favorite type of funny. During his older sister's goodbye party, we sat through a very moving (read: incredibly awkward) family gathering which went on way too long. Kim was at the center of attention and everyone gave her "words of wisdom". The best was definitely her grandfather who gave an amazing speech on the beauty of a flower is based on the make up of the entire plant and how it correlates to the people in your life. Basically what he expressed in Vietnamese was the fact that a flower is beautiful in it itself, but it's foliage is what gives it true beauty and gives it the nutrients it needs. The roots and leaves are the people in your life who gives you nourishment to bloom into the beauty that you are. You can cut away the leaves, but you no longer have the striking image you had previously with the leaves. "Don't leave (leaf) us". HA. It was very impromptu and was amazing. But this blog isn't about inspiration, it's about being funny and about hurting others in the exchange for our humor. Anyways, one of my cousins is older than me and for lack of better words, she was a bit of a failure. Didn't finish community college and directionless for 7 years after graduating college, she went to a private school to do nursing and we have yet to see any jobs resulting from this. As we were suffering through more awkward words of wisdom (one of the speakers started playing religious pop music) Kevin and I were crackalakin some jokes (as well as farts, our favorite bonding mechanism). As the sun was blazing through the window and straight into our retinas, we took refuge behind the throw pillows. Kevin then suggested (read: threatened) to say something and it went a little like this

Kevin: Be sure to listen to the family because if you don't (lowers throw pillow)
and in our direct line of vision is Van
this will happen to you.

Van won third place in a north american vietnamese pageant. She thought it was the greatest thing ever, but unfortunately, no one cared.... BECAUSE SHE GOT THIRD. I wanted to do it and win second so it would literally dethrone her and it would be hilarious. My mom suggested against it. Pageant girls are notoriously unsuccessful in life.

below is the visual representation of the hilarious moments with kevin in pictoral form.
pillow:

(lowers pillow) - Van

Hilarity 

btw. pictures. SO INTENSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. IT'S SO REAL! PEOPLE ALWAYS WALK AROUND WITH HAIR LIKE THAT. AND SHOES THAT GROSS. AND PANTS THAT RIPPED.

Kevin also suggested taking steroids and getting tattoos. Specifically a Lizard. The Sobe one. With it's tail wrapped around the arm. OH YEAHHH.

In other news, I went running and it was a lukewarm 98 freakin degrees when I started. I also had a run-in with my arch nemesis, cantaloupe which I unintentionally ingested which caused major owies in the middle of the night and in the morning. It's cool, waking up gasping for air is how I usually feel when I swim something more that a 50. While I was running up the hill that is Quimby Road, this hot shot guy was running up and down timing himself while I was slowly trekked up the mountainous terrain. I can't imagine doing that hill more than once, and doing anything more than a jog (let's be real, I was walking most of it)

LG SET ME FREE

I went to visit Mommy Monster during her concert. Oh yeah, no big deal, I only saw LADY GAGA AT HER FULL GLORY. It was a last minute purchase online. Thanks guy! At 80 per ticket, we paid below face value. How did this happen? You may ask. Well Anh scoured craiglist for weeks and took advantage of the opportunity she found online from a guy who unfortunately couldn't go because they were tickets he and his girlfriend was supposed to use.... except they broke up and he couldn't find anyone to go with :( Well, the silverlining of this relationship ending comes in the form of Anh and Annie's happiness. I'm sorry pal, but thanks for the awesome tickets!
It was between these and floor tickets but being a lazy cow, I opted for seats despite standing up most of the time and dancing with everyone. But I didn't really dance, because I was literally in a trance the ENTIRE TIME. Musical + club scene + movie + play + amazing Dance music + gays + everything that glitters = LADY GAGA CONCERT. Before it ended, I wanted to shell out more monays to go the next night.
During the entire show, these awesome gay guys sat in the row in front of me but since LG was in in our proximity (kinda) they were PDA-ing to the max. But the thing was, they looked so hood with the caps with the sticker still on it and baggy pants. They were too good to be true.
Anyways listen to Lady GaGa. Especially while driving, sitting doing nothing, and especially RUNNING. Today I ran 8 miles and it didn't feel like 1/4th of a marathon because Monster and So Happy I Can Die was on repeat. Lady GaGa has healing properties!
be jelly

Lady GaGa - Monster

This tampon isn't the most absorbent thing on my body

What's your super power? Jump really high? Run 6 minute miles? The ability to consume a handle of alcohol and still have the functionality of your major organs? Well, mine's the ability to attract cancerous UV rays into my skin cells to produce copious amounts of Melanin.
You may have heard me proudly proclaim that I'm planning on running a marathon in October, but I am way behind in training. Today I was going to wake up to run early, but I convinced myself that the sun would soon melt the cool overcast and eventually, people would have to peel me off the cement that I've adhered myself to after fainting due to dehydration set on by the buckets I've sweat out. I went running after I really woke up (2 hours after my initial wake-up) and I ran. damnit I should have ran earlier because the weather was perfect up until noon when it got hot and my run became incredibly boring. I ran around my block after running through my usual run path and ran a whopping 7 miles out of the 12 miles that I was supposed to run. It's cool though. Instead of eating a hot pocket, I opted for a lean pocket to cut the calories I would have burned if I ran the extra 5 miles. Anyways, the point of this story was that despite my run being mostly in overcast and I ran for about 1.5 hours. I tanned through my shirt. Don't ask me how I do it, it's an amazing non-beneficial super power I just happen to have that all the white girls across America are envious of. I'm sure I could tan through a metal armor while sitting in a bomb shelter if I didn't wear sunblock.

SPF ∞ (Approximate Estimation)

Convos with Bryce

Summer time means that I have a lot of time, to invest into obligations. I guess I have the option of ignoring my family's request for me to 'do them a favor' but they tend to send over my cousins to guilt trip me into doing something for them. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but daily babysitting two rascals where one is probably mildly retarded (he frequently forgets to wear underpants) is hard to accept when you're being paid lower than minimum wage. Anyways, despite these 'optional obligations' my aunt wanted me to tutor her kids in piano. It's not so terrible if I didn't already have to listen to terrible piano practices for 2. fricken. hours. everyday. I am sure the only others who understand this amount of cacophony are Ke$ha's music recorders and Vuvuzela quality control testers. After saying 'no' in the most direct but politest way many times, my aunt used her kids to ask me. My cold cold heart could no longer stand against these whiny-voiced sticky-handed children. She ingeniously told them to run up to me and give me a hug before asking. That smart bitch. Below is Bryce, the large wave that swayed me into the shore of saying "sure' :(

Don't get me wrong, hanging out with my cousins is a huge perk to this thankless, moneyless job. Also, since they're such noobs, they think piano playing is fun (HAH. just wait...) so teaching isn't so difficult when the student is so eager. This story has a point. I swear.
So today, my usual Friday means teaching them, hanging out with them until dinner, then getting home. The kiddies include Bryce (8?) Izzy (10?) and Cait (4 months). We were all hanging out and feeding Cait but Izzy wanted to play Pixieworld, Neopets gone gay. As a scantily dressed slut with wings, you go around collecting crap like SNOWFLAKES and you go on MISSIONS. It's pure bull and Izzy pours a good chunk of her childhood into it. Great outlook for the future of our children.
the conversation unfolds in the following way:
Izzy : Baby doesn't want to eat dad, she just wants to look at things and smile
The Dad : IZZY, you play all day, feed your sister for like 15 minutes.
Izzy : but DAD, she isn't eating. (whine whine)
Me: Can I do it? You can play
Bryce: you're going to feed her?
Me:yeah?
Bryce : are you going to BEST Feed her?
Me : wait what? no. BEST FEED!?
Bryce : i mean BREAST FEED
Me : NO. Do I look like I can breast feed her?
Bryce : yes. I can't because i don't have boobies
Me : no. i plan on using the bottle.

He is just as funny in person as he is posing for the above photo.

The Start of a New Beginning. Again

Basically, I want to be able to look back and revel in the days of hilarity. Coming from a huge family and a solid support system of friends means an abundance in laughs. I always feel like ease-dropping on people's lives by living through their blogs and facebook stalking their profiles. Some may say it's creepy, but what better way of finding the truth than straight from the horse's mouth? My life may not be written into a biography (Justin Beiber), but I look forward to sharing good times from life: the small details that brings tiny joys that are so easily forgotten in the chaos of everyday distractions, impeding commitments and minor set-backs. Hopefully, this blog will show a skewed view of life presenting itself in the most favorable of lights. Life as a comedy.