Some Mush Mash... (eh shit, it happens:)

What is success to you? Success to me is being able to tell your grandchildren a really great story. Something moving, something real, and something passionate... Not just that you have sold 15,000 machines that can copy paper images onto other paper images, or that you've done every single thing that your boss has ever delegated to you; but that you have thought outside the box, leaped without knowing you'd land on something soft, and took a risk knowing that only the greater risks reaped the greatest rewards... "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty well preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, “WOW, What a ride!”

I hope we all get to wake up and do something pretty damn cool tomorrow.

Chickens and Eggs

I think my female doctor is worried that I may be running out of baby eggs... Which worries me that I may be running out of baby eggs. I mean, I definitely do not want babies right this minute (hell, I'm still trying to support our free-loading cat) but I would at least like the option of babies some day...

Maybe my dad really does have a point when he constantly is reminding me that I am no longer a "Spring Chicken" (I'm not even quite sure what that means, do spring chickens become undesirable after they reach a certain age?) I'm not sure, but he says that to me A LOT. Maybe I should freeze my baby eggs just in case something goes down, and the world decides they need my offspring for something world changing. Like curing stupid. But then that would piss me off because I would have had to live among idiots my whole life and I'd be like "Oh NOW people do shit that makes sense... Awesome."

Anyways, so I will keep this short because I have to go to the store and buy vitamins that will some how "preserve" my baby eggs or something like that, I kinda stopped listening to my doctor right after she got all judgmental on me.

Hmmm... I bet this is yet another conspiracy Target has to get me in there to buy a bunch of shit I don't need.

Or possibly folic acid sales are down.

OR... I bet she talked to my dad.

To the Bitch at Blockbuster

Ok, you aren't really a bitch. You are actually really sweet and very helpful at times. I assume though, that this is all a cover up, and really you have a conspiracy with the restaurant down the street that always screws up my "to go" order. Combined, the two of you use your powers of food and entertainment against my weaknesses of food and entertainment to see how many of my nights you can single handedly ruin. It's bad enough that I am spending yet another night behind the TV, and yeah, maybe I should get out of my PJ's to come visit your store. But let's be honest, Im at blockbuster for a reason... And it's not because I am feeling exceptionally motivated that day. Anyways...
To the Bitch at Blockbuster:
PLEASE STOP WITH THE MOVIE SPOILERS!! Seriously, wtf do you have against me and my love for facebook status induced movie choices! You are all Judgy McJudgerson every time I check out. I get social anxiety just walking into the store to pick out my movie of the night thanks to you...
You: Oooooooooh.... You are going to watch THAT movie tonight?
Me: Ummm.... Apparetly I am. I just over paid you for it.
You: Oooooooooh... Well, it's not that great, I mean, I watched it and it had really bad acting, buuuut maybe YOU will like it. Good luck!
Me to myself: [You are lucky I am too lazy to sign up for Netfix bitch]

This is not the first time your antics have spoiled my viewing pleasure. There was 500 Days of Summer where you told me the ending and Paper Heart where you told me the ending and Perfect Getaway where you also told me the ending... I HATE YOU.
I am going to get a job at your favorite restaurant and right after you eat your meal I'm going to be all like " Oooooooooh you ATE the glazed duck?? Why you hate animals so much?!" and you are going to be like "Who are you?" and I'm going to be all like "Don't worry I am here to help" and you are going to be like "Why are you sitting at my table?" and I'm going to be all like "Shit, you ate the goat cheese salad too? You know it causes premature hair loss!" and you are going to be like "Excuse me, my husband and I are trying to enjoy our dessert, PLEASE leave our table" and Im going to be all like "WELL ENJOY THE DESSERT BITCH, CAUSE I POISONED IT! NOW STOP RUINING MY MOVIE NIGHTS!" And then I am going to stab you with your fork so we're even.

Love..........Dad

I apologize to any readers that have not had the opportunity to meet my father. The only thing you really need to know about him for backstory is this: He is Malaysian, he has an accent, he is hilarious and he wears a Scottish kilt and bagpipes in a band. I will write a non-dad related blog later on. But for those of you that do know Larry, enjoy!

This all started when I was telling my sister about how I think our father may have accidently set his email signature as “Love...........Dad”. And maybe we should make sure that he hasn't been sending out his work emails ending in “Love.........Dad”.

A day later she got this:

[Please insert Malaysian accent]

Stephanie,
 
I mailed your stuff last night from UPS. They said it should be there in San Diego by Monday.
 
Here is the tracking number:1z291X9903
 
Love you..........Dad.

So, I wanted to see if his “.......” were consistent; and this is what I found:

Lorraine,
Here is your reservation.
Love.............Dad

The following emails are about me sending my dad out to find the Louie bag I want in Thailand. The trend of his emails continue... I think they are amazing. Also, he is yelling at me because I flooded his email with a dozen or so pictures of the EXACT bag I want... (I can’t help that I am a girl that knows exactly what she wants!) He apparently did not find the abundance of pictures humoring.

Lorraine,
I got it. Will try to find one.
Love...........Dad.

Lorraine,
I seen enough of the bag you want. Hope I can find it here. I am now in Changi Airport in Singapore. The time is now 2:00am My flight leave at 9:00am for Kuala Lumpur. I have over 9 hours layover. It's been a very long flight from Pittsburgh.
I love you.............Dad.

Lorraine,
Finally made it to Penang. Uncle Kenny and Aunt Kathy are here. Uncle George will be here by Thursday since he missed his flight on Saturday to fly here with me. Will keep you posted on your bag.
Love.............Dad.

Hey! Girls,

See if these are the purses you like. Please choose the one you like.
Lorraine, the guy said that he will have the bucket purse by tomorrow.
Let me know ASAP.

Love.............Dad.

Lorraine,

Aunt Kathy is here. She is the one who picked out the purses. She know the quality and she said it looked and feel very good. Do you wear watches? They have designer watches like Rolex, Omega, etc. They looked good. I have bought a few for myself yesterday at the market. So far, I have done nothing but eat, eat, and eat. Every night we have been invited out to dinner and eating all the delicious local foods. Your Aunt Kathy has been trying everything too. So far we have ben lucky, no stomach problem.

Will keep you posted.
Love.................Dad.

Lorraine,

It's not me. Uncle Kenny and Aunt Kathy are the shoppers. I got the Louie Vitton handbags. You guys will have to pick out which ones you like.

Having fun so far. Aunt Kathy is going home on Sunday. We will be doing more eating and eating. It seems that is all I have done since I got here other than shopping. I am not complaining, the food are great and so cheap.

Uncle George made it today. He is with his mom and Dad now but will be at the hotel soon. I can't wait. Just kidding. I will have to hear his bitching for the next few days. Uncle Kenny's girlfriend is coming in tonight too. We are all anxiously waiting to see and meet her. She is from Thailand.

Love.............Dad

You get the point.

Rain in San Diego

I love the rain. I speak highly of the limited downpours here in Southern California mainly because I am so spoiled with perfect San Diego weather, that I actually get excited when it rains. Its something different. I get even more excited when it thunders ("thunders" is a word, right?). But my enthusiasm (and urge to immediately build a porch swing) quickly plummets as I realize that the glorifying sound of thunder I thought I heard, was actually our garbage man clearing out all the dumpsters on my street. Hmmm... Whatever. I am sure I wasnt the only one that made that mistake today. This is also coming from a girl that thought she heard a baby being abused outside her window every night for a week, when in fact, it was just a male cat trying to court our female cat. Surprisingly, those two things sound eerily familiar. So make sure you check into any situation throughly before calling child services.

Oh well, live and learn I guess.


PS: I tried to google image a picture of "rain in San Diego" since outside my window is just someone else's window, and this is what I got: So... Enjoy!

The F-word and Ninja's

As a new blogger, I must say it's not easy to stay focused and consistent. I wanted an "overall" theme, but my entries seem to be all over the board. So, maybe I should change my "theme" or have no theme at all, and just leave people saying "Wait, what is her blog even about?" after they read it. At least that way I keep expectations low and I have free range to write about whatever has my mind boggled that day (which can be any number of things). I'm consistently mind boggled as to how "lefty loosey, righty tighty" really works; because to me, no matter how you are turning it, depending on where you are standing in comparison to hand placement, you could be turning it in either one of those directions. I also don't get how drinking upside down cures hiccups or if global warming really does or does not exist. But this could go on and on, I am easily perplexed and being inquisitive by nature leaves me with a lot of burning questions... Most very relevant to human survival and osmosis.

Anyways, I was reading a phenomenal blog today by the Bloggess and her over all theme was "The F-word and Ninja's". Which surprisingly has a magical ring to it. So, now I know why why she has 275,500 followers and I have 12. It's all about the theme.

Shake Free

I can't help but post this... Its a motto I live by and it says a lot about the things we think are important, but really are not even specs in this crazy wonderful world we live in!!

"The last place you'd find most people is where they are. Most of us spend our lives thinking about what's next, who I'm going to meet, who I'm going to be when I get married, skinny, rich, famous. You know, life is what happens while we're busy making other plans.

But life doesn't happen in the future - or the past. It happens right here, right now. That's why it's important to start each day wherever you are.

Today, shake yourself free of any expectation of arriving. Encourage yourself to be fully in the moment-to enjoy your transformations and to seek out new obstacles. Sink your teeth into the endless dessert that life is serving up every moment of the day."

Does luck exist?

If it does, I am going to go ahead and accept that I am not lucky by nature, by nurture, science, or any other way for one to be deemed "lucky". I kind of always knew I was unlucky; I always got the short straw, I never won at bingo, and my parents kept having more kids (kidding, I love my siblings:). However, I feel I would have gotten a lot more presents at Christmas if I didnt have to share the spotlight.
I did cheat at bingo once as a kid, yeah pathetic I know, but I really wanted a piece of candy. The worst part was that I didnt even feel bad for cheating, which was just a foreshadow of my life, showing me that I would do just about anything for a piece of candy.
Anyways, its quite simple really; just write down the numbers as they are called, yell "BINGO" and then read off the numbers you wrote down. I mean, who is going to question a second grader anyways? No one could possibly want a piece of Bit O’ Honey that bad... Apparently I did.
Does luck exist? If I could define luck, I would say that it is an emotion that someone places on a particular situation where someone "receives" a better outcome or opportunity than another person of equal ground. Luck pisses me off, mainly because I do not get to experience it... I believe in luck though, because if I didnt believe in luck then I wouldn't understand why some lazy idiot would get a promotion before me or why that 24 year old down the street won 46 million from our local 7 Eleven Mega Millions and I just ended up spending 5 more bucks on my 12 pack to contribute to his winnings. Complete Bullshit. Some like to argue though that luck does not exist, it's just a mere coincidence that some people are just given better opportunities than others. Why not just call "a mere coincidence that some people are just given better opportunities than others" luck and stop arguing... Im too tired to argue, I am still bitter about that 46 million... And bingo.

Baby, please hand over the scissors NOW

You always hear "Don't drink and drive" Don't drink and text"... Try this one on for change, DONT DRINK AND CUT YOUR OWN HAIR. I experienced this a few weeks ago, after a few glasses of Pinot Noir and a shot of vodka (Hey, no judging. It was a Wednesday). Anyways, long story short, I had split ends... And if anyone knows me well, they know I can be a tad bit neurotic at times... With that said, this night I must have hit my spilt end limit, so I took matters into my own hands (literally). And well... Now I look like a 13 year old Chinese boy with a bad bowl cut (no offense to 13 year old Chinese boys with bad bowl cuts) So for future reference: Never drink and cut your own hair.

Productivity

So here I am again, it’s my first Monday back to work in 2010 (exciting stuff, I know). I am going back and forth on what I should be doing to make myself look most productive today… Since banning Facebook at work, I have had to be very creative with my time online during the day. Yes, I could be working harder, but I am a firm believer in working smarter not harder. If you do things right the first time, you shouldn’t need to work harder. But being “productive” in the eyes of corporate is very different than actually working smart. If I can get done in 5 hours what they want me to get done in 8, why must I “fill” those last 3 hours doing anything as long as I am at my desk “looking” productive… I owe a lot of my “productivity” to gchat in this case. None of this makes real sense to me, sitting in this 5 x 6 cubicle pretending like its an office makes to sense to me either… I guess now I know why I haven’t been promoted.

I know, I know… “Things could be worse”, but why should I have to lower my standards of what I find satisfying just because I know that I COULD be starving in some third world country right now, rather than sitting here in my work box eating oatmeal that tastes like wet dog food. Of course things could always be worse, why do we even accept this as a train of thought?? Do we go up to terminally ill children in ICU and say “Stop complaining about the pain, it could be worse! Little Timmy next door just died”… How about trying this outlook, “Things could be way better than this shit, so get out there and do something about it already!”… Personally, that’s way more motivating.

Two things you should never cook in the office:
Popcorn and Bacon… It’s just bad business people.

Presents from HR

After being out of work for a week due to horrendous chronic migraines (ironically caused by work) I came to my desk to find that HR had kindly given me a chocolate santa for Christmas. My first thought was, "awesome, this will be going straight to my ass" and my second thought was, "one bite can't hurt though, right?". So I unwrapped chocolate santa like there was going to be gold inside, took one bite and swoosh, in the trash! As I turned back to my computer, with my mouth full of chocolaty goodness, I started to realize that this was no regular chocolate santa, THIS, this was in fact chocolate peanut butter santa! Well, this changes everything.
Instantly I was knee deep in the trash... Because no one, NO ONE should ever throw away Santa.