Monthly Archives: January 2013

Winter break debacle: Success edition!

Boyfriend and I have been dating for almost 5 years now, so I’m glad to report that I finally made it to the east coast to visit him during winter break.  I even managed to keep it a secret!

some woman almost forgot to take her dog out of the x-ray boxes.  I was ready to spring into action and rescue him, though, which would have been REALLY fun.

some woman almost forgot to take her dog out of the x-ray boxes. I was ready to spring into action and rescue him, though, which would have been REALLY fun.

If you’re new here, you might not recall that I’ve attempted this trip before: said attempt was marked by a tragic lack of success (as you can see here).  This time, though, the whole thing went off without a hitch.  I got a redeye flight to avoid any delays during layovers (which is part of what screwed me last time).  Once I arrived one of his friends, Coppertop, drove me to his place, then dropped me off at a mall where I needed to find a way to surprise him with some kind of subtly spectacular display of love.

I bought a pretzel (hadn’t eaten in over 12hrs) and wandered around the mall, chatting with attendants, feeling out who would be game to help me do something ridiculous.  I settled on an employee with whom I had a brief conversation about tea selection at William Sonoma.  She seemed nice, and their uniform is just an apron, so I figured if I asked nicely, she would let me wear an apron for a few minutes and hand out samples until Boyfriend came around, at which point I would treat him like any other customer and offer him one (and only one) sample before drifting off to help someone else.

This, however, did not pan out.  I got a text from Coppertop: We’re here.  Shit!  I texted STALL!, scarfed the pretzel and asked the lady at William Sonoma if I could borrow an apron for a loving prank.  She winced.  “You need to ask my manager,” and pointed to the most stressed out woman in the mall: apologizing over the phone to an irate customer, ringing someone up, then dashing into the back room, she clearly wasn’t about to get on board with any shenanigans.

pictured: inspiration

pictured: inspiration

I hustled out of the store, and wracked my brain for new ideas while scanning the very thin crowd for Boyfriend and Coppertop.  Then I heard it: toot toot!  The mall had a children’s train that made a circuit around the mall.  I got in line and fidgeted, eyes darting around, waiting to get caught.  The train pulled into the “station.”  Kids got off, kids got on, but there wasn’t enough room for all of us.  I stayed in line with two more families in front of me while the train pulled away.  I texted Coppertop I’ll be on the train in a few mins, and waited anxiously while the soft toot toot! slowly grew softer then louder.  As I glanced around, excited that I had almost made it onto the train without being spotted by Boyfriend, I noticed a sign: “$2 to ride.”  I froze.  I dug into my purse knowing exactly what I would find: one dollar in quarters.  I had spent my last three dollars on that damn pretzel.

Now I had a choice.  I could wait for the train to come back and throw myself at the mercy of the “conductor,” or beg for a dollar from the mother in line in front of me.

I chose the latter.

I explained how we’d been together for so long, but I had never been able to visit him, and the last time I tried it all fell apart, and now I was only a dollar away from a fantastic surprise, and would she be so kind as to loan me a dollar for the train ride?  “My boyfriend will pay you back, he’s a sweetheart,” I explained, but she was already nodding and reaching into her purse, as was the mother in line in front of her, who had over heard my sob story.  The train pulled in just as I said my twentieth thank-you, and we all piled on.  I pulled my ponytail out, put on some chapstick.  I was ready to wow Boyfriend.

We choo-choo’d around the mall for a minute before I spotted them.  Eventually we pulled right up alongside them.  As we idled by, I sat up straight, waved like the Queen and called, “Hello, peasants!”  He and Coppertop laughed as I pulled away.  Then I became that weird adult on a kids’ train ride without a kid to legitimize my presence.  So that was awkward.

The ride (finally) ended, and Boyfriend couldn’t stop smiling and laughing as we followed Coppertop around (he had some actual errands to run at the mall).  He loves his friends, family and me so much.  It makes him giddy when we’re all together.  He’s a good person.  I’m glad I got him.

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When people walk up behind me at work

ADRENALIN

ADRENALIN

My desk at work faces a wall.  I have two coworkers whose offices open to the area behind me.  As soon as I decide I deserve a mental break, I start checking out Facebook or reading LA Times, and I hear, “Hey, quick question,” but it sounds more like, “HEART ATTACK TIME, MOTHER FUCKER!”


Dracula, my love

The original Dracula is my favorite ghost story.  It’s easy to see that it’s not the ultimate literary novel of its time, but it’s a fun read and a creepy story set in a time where if you were stranded somewhere, you were totally fucked.  If you get sick in a foreign country, you’re screwed.  If you don’t know how to kill the thing that’s coming after you and your loved ones, get your affairs in order, because it might be time to die.

nice job, google

nice job, google

Obviously I’m not a fan of how prominently Christianity comes swooping in to save the day (of course the Count can’t enter a tomb that’s been sealed off using putty mixed with the holy sacrament, DUH), but that’s sorta part of the charm of this story; it’s full of silly superstition and stolid, antiquated reliance on the impregnable defense afforded to the faithful.  It’s pretty cute.

And the action!  Fight scenes!  Storms!  Abandoned vessels washing up on shore!  Giant wolves!  Hypnosis!  Seduction!  Hidden treasure!  All this and more!  Written in the style of the turn of the century, who wouldn’t want to read it?

SPOILER:
The part on the ship is what makes this a truly horrifying story.  It’s the strongest part of the story in my opinion.  If that part doesn’t hook you, you have my permission to stop reading, and continue your inevitable march toward the end of an unfortunate, unremarkable life.  You schmuck.

READ ME, PUNY MORTAL

READ ME, PUNY MORTAL


Dogs!

In case you didn’t know, dogs are the best.

Here are some dogs having an awesome time pulling sled.

they seem to be enjoying Scotland as much as I did

they seem to be enjoying Scotland as much as I did

I rest my case.


Shades of no-wait-nevermind

I almost died when I saw how Draw Something dealt with the 50 Shades of Grey craze: “shades of red, shades of yellow, shades of blue… GRAYSCALE PACKAGE” LOL

alternate: shades of light-ish black

alternate: shades of light-ish black


Sweet chocolate lies

I, like most Westerners, have been led to believe that a woman wants chocolate like a man wants sex. But I’m not nuts about chocolate; I am outside the sisterhood of the travelling truffle. After a long day at work, I don’t want Godiva and a glass of wine; I crave bread and cheese with tea, or ramen with friends.

So I wonder if this is what women who have intense chocolate cravings actually picture when they eat chocolate, or consider when deciding which chocolate to buy: Was this lovingly made by a handsome foreign chef who, if we ever ran into each other in a market on a sleepy Sunday morning in a small hamlet in France, would have something to talk about because I saw him on this box at Ralphs that one time? Yes. I will buy and eat this chocolate over all others because this one was made my the gorgeous, Caucasian, whisk-wielding father of our inevitably brilliant future offspring.

dashingly handsome chef says, "I love chocolate almost as much as I love you..." *wink*

dashingly handsome chef says, “I love chocolate almost as much as I love you…” *wink*

This doesn’t strike me as a reasonable thought process (especially since I think we all know that there is no way in hell every single piece of this chocolate was pain-stakingly filled with more chocolate by some high-paid chocolatier with a fucking whisk), but it’s chocolate, not rocket science.  Reason is not exactly part of the equation.


Neighborhood watch

There was an orange and black neighborhood watch sticker on on the window next to the back door, in the laundry room of the house I grew up in.  It featured the silhouette of some creepy guy with a popped collar and a fedora for some reason (gotta look out for those Baby Boomers, they’ll git’chya!).  I thought it was just a limited issue thing, but then I saw this outside one of my favorite ramen restaurants (Daikokuya in Little Tokyo), and it made me wonder if this image was more highly distributed, and therefore better-known than I had previously thought.

Regardless, it was nice to see a familiar face 🙂

LA's most wanted

LA’s most wanted

UPDATE: 11:40pm
This guy is everywhere!  A quick Google search for ‘neighborhood watch’ and this guy pops up all over the damn place (although occasionally he seems to be wearing a mask, and strongly resembles Homestar Runner).

 


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