Fuuurriiyydeh

Yes.

There's an Obama supporter who blogs here. Because he will walk beside us, as our leader who listens; who understands the human condition. In a political world full of smoke and mirrors, he seems to neither deny nor denounce his past. Has a grace and humility that has been missing for quite a while from our democracy. I want something new. I believe in something new.

Asian Americans for Obama

There are so many tricks and turns of politics that are confusing and time-consuming. Being president is not winning the popularity contest-it is a difficult job that no one should want, but instead feel a responsibility towards. There is so much to be said about how many of Obama's ideas run concurrent with Clinton's - yet he seems to be so much more palatable. And if that runs for me, it will run for the whole international universe as well. No more cowboys, I want a president.

DAMN YOU ANTHROPOLOGIE!!I don't have $228.00 to spend on a dress. Why?!? Why must you be so pretty? And perfect?! And the stupid stock market crashed...again today. Stupid.

Best or worse?

I'm selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes. I'm out of control and at times I'm hard to handle.But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don`t deserve me at my best.
-Marilyn Monroe

Short entry today, too busy, outside, enjoying my dose of Vitamin D. Recent purchases:
USB cord for printer - it's getting a little ridiculous that I don't print because I don't have a cord.
Vitamin E soap (by 302) - best facial soap ever, totally stops my nose from gathering oil.

Little birdhouse in your soul

Have been reading the wiki entry on Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs-based solely on watching an episode of CSI last night; which makes me wish I had taken a basic sociology class when I was in college. Reading the entry, I also feel totally justified in my so-called 'hermit behavior' when all I am doing is self-actualizing. hee.

Esteem needs
All humans have a need to be respected, to have self-esteem, self-respect, and to respect others. People need to engage themselves to gain recognition and have an activity or activities that give the person a sense of contribution, to feel accepted and self-valued, be it in a profession or hobby. Imbalances at this level can result in low self-esteem, inferiority complexes. People with low self-esteem need respect from others. They may seek fame or glory, which again depends on others. However confidence, competence and achievement only need one person and everyone else is inconsequential to one's own success. It may be noted, however, that many people with low self-esteem will not be able to improve their view of themselves simply by receiving fame, respect, and glory externally, but must first accept themselves internally. Psychological imbalances such as depression can also prevent one from obtaining self-esteem on both levels.

(This is fascinating! I always knew there was a word for: enculturation, but was resigned to calling it 'closed mindedness' or 'racism'-when it is so much bigger than that. )

How many people do you know have that special *spark* to them? Like they have a different brand of coffee in the morning or are wearing their super special underpants, EVERY DAY? They seem to love life, no matter what it throws at them. They are not more rich or successful than people who are disgruntled, arrogant or bitter; but for some reason they cherish their successes or riches more. And you win WITH them. When they're happy, you're happy too. They're rarely critical, judgemental, condescending, secretive or unkind. Life is full of incredible surprises, interesting people and page-turning (for lack of a better word) adventure when you're with them.

Striving to be like them; and therefore, MORE YOU (if that makes sense) is the best that you could hope to achieve out of life. At least...it's the best that I could hope for. And notice, how many of these people are around you? A lot? A little? Law of attraction-you are what you're made of.

Bring a little happy into the world today. For you.

Pondering Wondercon

Rain shmain; doesn't stop me from going outside.
Let us make one thing perfectly clear; if I ever once try to deny my dork roots, please smack me into oblivion. Thanks! But how is it that I have never been to the mini-mecca of all things geek, WonderCon? When I was 16, I worked in a comic book store for chrissakes. Mostly for the "cool" factor-even when I was a teen I equivocated geek with cool. Ha. (which is why I seriously don't get people doing the whole 'popularity-I'm better than you' game, even when they're 29 or 30-dude, get over it. I actually don't care what kind of car you drive or how many yoga classes you take-I care more about who you are and how you treat others)
Moward and I met up at Yerba Buena Center after a short delay (Muni trains decide to take nap breaks when it rains), in which time I amused myself by looking at books by the St*rbucks. On the way there, I ran into a Boba Fett outside the Mariott, so I was already chalking the day up as a plus.

When we got to Moscone Center, the rain was threatening but not too awful, and here is the fat line for the Iron Man chat as evidence.

Inside, the geekery began, and I got a picture with four Cobra recruits (I also, and thinking back-this was mean-gave the girl Cobra shit for not dressing up as the Baroness. I mean, cause she was pretty hot) There were not as many people walking around in costume as I was hoping for, but plenty of guys (most of whom showered) with utter post-coital bliss painted on their faces. There were also little kids walking around with huge machete esque swords (I mean, basically a plank attached to a handle), provoking my pondering out loud whether or not a bus from the HP had made a special trip. We walked by plenty of booths and my wallet was sorely tempted by Domo shirts, Star Wars lego figures, cuteshitthatlightsup stuff and other retro goods (and unfortunately, not too many books)-but ultimately I decided against it for reasons that I would have been lugging it around the Treasure Hunt.
We also ran into several friends there:

Mo & the Bean

and also War / Cloud & fam - just completely randomly. heh heh.
It was totally fun. Not something I'd want to do for more than two or three hours, but fun! Amusing, light, cool art stuff to look at. It also felt fun to be part of somewhat of an underground collective. It's like being into Rainbow Brite or musical theater, it's not something you announce in public or in front of work collegues, but when you're finally given the chance to submerge yourself completely in your nerd finery? You go hog-wild: because you have found others like yourself. It's like a gay person coming out of the closet.
I feel no need to defend my love of comics. They're art; sometimes stupid, no plot, anatomically impossible, titanium covered art, but a form of expression nonetheless. They allow us to manifest in greater form the facets of human culture that we try to deny. Captain America or Dr. Doom; they are exaggerated caricatures, but they are in all of us. Neil Gaiman is currently a cultural icon and look at artists like Ikegami or Jim Lee, and try to deny the cultural part and parcel they contribute as well as disseminate for their readers. and that's the educational part of this blog, moving on to shallow stuff ...

What I was really struck by, and god may hate me for this, but first of all: the guys there? Total geekery, but not shy. Several of them were wont to look up at me and smile and also make geek talk quite close to my ear. In fact, had I not been in close vicinity to Moward, I probably would have gone home with a number or two. Maybe it's cause I'm the rarity of a GIRL at a COMIC BOOK CONVENTION-where estrogen is ne'er to be found, except clad in spandex. Or that the simple fact that I would show an interest in comics makes me more attractive-I don't know. In contrast, Moward felt uncomfortable about being at a geek fest with an Asian girl-which always makes me laugh, like when I go out with Nim and he wears his 'konichiwa' t-shirt. But he felt, and sort of understandably, like an ass. I guess I should have cursed more or made explicit lesbian jokes or something.

Secondly: this is what I'm totally going to get smote (smited? smoted?) for-the guys were cute. Not all of them, several were poor examples of hygeine and grooming, but many were cute! They may have been wearing a shirt that said, "I am the kwisatz haderach" (I SAW this guy, so did Moward), but they were above board attractive-at least to me. And this may explain my ENTIRE problem. I am attracted to guys who never leave their houses! I am used to this kind of guy; the slightly skinny, uber smart, twinkle in his eye, dorky guy.Which means I should join an MMORPG or something right? Or maybe guys who have unattainable anatomical expectations just float my boat. Whichever.

Little gold man.

Quickie...

Oscar post! With photos, and opinions. More weekend update later.

How hot is Helen Mirren by the way? She and Daniel Day-Lewis looked positively newlywed radiant as they walked off stage together arm in arm. And were tickled to be with each other. But that red dress? Hawt.

Pregnant people look incredible too:

Jessica Alba looked stunning and poised-if a tad fembot when announcing the winner for the science and tech categories. The color, a winey plum, was fantastic on her. Mymymy thought she needed a necklace, but I pointed out that would have taken away from her feathered decolletage.

Cate Blanchett

is friggin gorgeous when she is pregnant. She must be in her second trimester because she is glowing. I love this shade of purple on her, matched with the emerald greens. And the loose hair completes her look; glam hippie mom.

Nicole Kidman (Mr. Jones and I were all, "She's pregnant? She looks normal.") Even though I'm sure she was restraining herself, and I loved the diamond necklace, there was far too much black on the red carpet this year.

Sexiness = James McAvoy (2 out of 2 W*ng women agree-and the accent? KILLAH!) and Sexiness = the Rock (he's my latest obcession, I watched Walking Tall, just to watch him with no shirt.)

Yay! I got my wish! Marion Cotillard wins for La Vie En Rose! Naysay what you will about Julie Christie, but Cotillard's full transformation in the glamourpuss she is into the frail yet tempestuous Edith Piaf was the most amazing thing I saw last year. She DESERVES this win.

I loved watching the spouses; esp. Francis McDormand wolf whistling her hubby Joel Coen for his two wins. And did everyone have the crazy-eyes reaction to watching their clips or is it just me? See: Cate Blanchett, Ruby Dee. I keep mixing up Isla Fisher and Amy Adams, is that weird? Seth Rogan is kinda cute. Uh kill me, but is that Steve Guttenberg with Marlee Maitlin? Yay! Paul Dano! love.

Full and respectful opinions are, of course, welcomed.

The dance-dance revolution

Today's entry is inspired by *GalaDarling who is always informational & educational as well as self-examinatory. And it's lovely-makes me want to be a better blogger.

Limited time only, Paul Coelho's, "Witch of Portobello Road" available, in its entirety here:
Harper Collins Link

"Do you know what I've learned? That though ecstasy is the ability to stand outside youself, dance is a way of rising up into space, of discovering new dimensions while still remaining in touch with your body. When you dance, the spiritual world and the real world manage to coexist quite happily....During any dance to which we surrender with joy, the brain loses its controlling power, and the heart takes up the reins of the body. Only at that moment does the Vertex appear. As long as we believe in it, of course."

It's been a long time since I was at a rave. Or house party. Or dance hall. The last time I danced may have been at RedHen's wedding, now that I think about it. There are two types of people, as far as I'm concerned, those who dance and those who don't. Let me be clear though, and I am in love with both types-but much more so with those that do dance. Lovers are not the people that 'look good' while dancing, but the people that dance without any attachment to 'looking good'. (which usually end up being the people that look the best while dancing anyhow)
Think about the last time you saw someone dancing, really DANCING. Were they with anyone?
Having just bopped around my room for 1/2 an hour - which I used to do quite regularly; there were a couple of things that are worth mentioning:

1. How easy it was to become distracted. I started glancing around my room at all the clutter and things I wanted to put away. Started staring at the clock, realizing how hot it was. But at the same time, all of the objects in the room started to become clearer. More in focus and I started to mentally keep a list in my head. Somehow, the endorphins had made everything more focused.


2. How hard it was to just dance. There had to be some sort of connection-real or imaginary. I had to stare into the window to try to catch a glimpse of my eyes. After a while I gave up and fell into my easy fantasy-gypsy guitarists with dark eyes and sundry other men. Then dancing, all of a sudden was easy. After a little bit of that, it was easy to fall into just movement. But I needed that impetus.


3. How the different types of music affected the type of connection I entered into. I was using a middle Eastern type belly dancing cd. It was a little hard to get into.


4. How good it feels now, to just be used up. I can go to bed feeling like I did something.


5. How hard it was to stop focusing on the 'look good'-even with the lights off, door closed and nobody here, I kept catching myself trying to do the 'right' movements, which is probably why I danced for as long as I did.

Coelho's novel encourages the reader through imagined interviews about his main character, Athena, to think of dance as more than physical activity or pleasurable activity. But as a way to get in touch with ultimate spirituality (called the Vertex) and therefore purpose in life. As much as I love dancing; this time was different. Because there was an imminent goal, I stepped out of being in the moment. And finally, when I let go of the need to see the 'Vertex', I was able to release into real dancing. Into clarity.

************
By the way: NERD ALERT.
WonderCon is this weekend, featuring Cal alumnus - John Cho - better known as Harold from 'Harold and Kumar' (soon to do comm duties as Hikaru Sulu in the new Star Trek prequel movie) does triple attack as the Con, Chinese New Year Parade and SFIAA Film Festival all come to collide in a huge AZNOMGFest.!!!
ahah. It's less like a yellow fever and more like a yellow epidemic. You know you love it. Yeah...I said it.

*************

Listening to Duffy, 'Mercy' - damn...

That's some good shit right there. Some friggin' awesome, makes my weekend, hot stuff, wish I could look like Brigitte Bardot and sing like Eartha Kitt good shit. (via LittlestYellowestDifferentest)

river deep, mountain high.

*I've deleted parts of yesterday's entry, for those of you who are a little new to the home game today. Not because I'm trying to self-censor (necessarily), but because I had a little think about it yesterday. And venting that way does nobody good-least of all me. Especially when I'm frustrated at so much more than a silly cast party. I'm going to be late; they have to deal. End of story. So my irate anger perpetuated the interwebs for one day. I think that's probably enough.
Here's the truth. I am an easily stressed out person. I am able to hold quite a lot in, but I don't always release it in a healthy or substantive way. So I'll let it build up til I am all awash with the comments, contradictions, fears and tribulations brought up by my own attitude and the failure to address people who irritate me when they arrive. And then it all sort of explodes.

It's really easy to deflate too.

Just come up to me and tell me I'm doing a good job.

That what I'm doing is not easy, but I'm doing a good job.

And then I'm on my merry way.

See, other people's opinions, emotions and attitudes affect me just as strongly as my own. Silly, but true. One person who is having a bad day, giving me lip, can make me have a bad day. I'm just that type of girl. Care too much, I suppose. Weird isn't it? That gratitude can dissolve anger and sadness in a blink of an eye?
Having high standards for activities and practices that I feel passionate about also causes problems. Because I forget that some people have lives. Their high standards are not my high standards. People don't treat others the way I've been taught how to teach them.

• Which is why I will buy RedHen a birthday gift but not someone else.
• Why I will pay for dinner with Moward and Nim, but not someone else.
• Why I will call Jessiera and see her show, but not someone else.
• Why I am friends with some and just aquaintances with others.

Because life is too short to use up on people who are imbeciles.

I'm just sayin'

Taitology = Awesome

Especially inspiring is the 'Profound' list from Stephan Sagemeister's art book, "Things I Have Learned in my Life So Far". The best in my point of view is the first:

• Complaining is silly. Either act or forget.
• Thinking life will be better in the future is stupid. I have to live now.
• Being not truthful works against me.
• Helping other people helps me.
• Organizing a charity group is surprisingly easy.
• Everything I do always comes back to me.
• Drugs feel great in the beginning and become a drag later on.
• Over time I get used to everything and start taking it for granted.
• Money does not make me happy.
• Traveling alone is helpful for a new perspective on life.
• Assuming is stifling.
• Keeping a diary supports my personal development.
• Trying to look good limits my life.

"My asian flame i miss you! When can we meet up?" - my adorable friend Bunnyrillo, who always knows how to cheer me up.

Tomorrow: the MAN Center.

the SMAP strikes back.

*the angry post disclaimer. this is where I tell you not to read this entry if you are uncomfortable reading the spewed contents of my admittedly hot-headed self. I am actually debating posting this, but hey, it's what I feel-and it's true. This means YOU Dario, you may not like what I have to say here, tho' none of it has to do specifically with you.

Ok, explain to me how the T-Labs show could be FINITO for the last two weeks and the details are still annoying the hell out of me? We're trying to schedule the cast party and one of the members said that she was only available on the 3rd-5th (which is suspect if you ask me, but whatever, who is only available on Mon-Wed?) Also, who wants to have a cast party on a weeknight? Hooo...kay.

[deleted section here]

The way I was taught, if you work in theater-you drop what you're doing and you MAKE IT WORK. This means, cancelling classes, dates, dinners; I didn't go to my cousin's wedding because I was in a show. I took a 1/2 day from my actual job to do tech for T-Labs. Which means, I woke up at 6am and went to work and then LEFT to go to tech. [deleted angry section here] The work ethic here, bugs me.

Look, to be fair, we also had actors who were absolutely AWESOME about changing their schedules, cancelling classes, skipping work and being general good sports about rehearsal. People who travelled far, came for as much time as they could, worked long hours, did research, training etc., but there are just THE ones.

Stage managing has probably been one of the most humbling services I've performed yet. To be professional, organized, calm, mature, innovative, thoughtful, timely, diplomatic...is hardest when working with hypersensitive artists-especially when you consider yourself an artist as well. I think from now on, I will never EVER treat my stage manager like a piece of scenery (not that I ever did, but I'll definitely be more conscious). And I found out what I suspected all along; producing is my bag. Every aspect was interesting, necessary, creative. But being the actor wrangler? Not my bag.
Let's just say my response email to the cast was perfectly pleasant-though appropriately biting where it needed to be. I mean, it's a party for chrissakes, I can't be late to a PARTY? Ridiculous-why, are they going to make me a ritual sacrifice?

*SMAP is an acronym for Stage Manager AP

*Special note: some parts of this entry have been deleted.

Fook yu MSN.

How many things can you name in this picture that are wrong?

1) Using plain arial font just doesn't say 'buff n' brawny' to me

2) Red tank top + white work out pants? Come on girl! Fashion party foul.
3) Incorrect hunched over position for quad lifts.

Ok, I'm being blatantly sarcastic here. But seriously, I'm thinking of submitting this to AngryAsianMan. It's sort of ridiculous that the poster child for the scrawny, underfed, pasty ass man who needs to work out is your stereotypical Asian engineer type. Fook yu.

Cause this: and this...

don't really say, 'needs to work out', to me. Plus I think a lot of women these days are going for guys who are lean and strong, not beefcaked out anyhow.

People at work are looking at my screen funny. Must save entry before accused of porn surfing.

Easy like Monday morning...afternoon

President's day is probably one of the best holidays ever invented. Ok, maybe not, but anything that affords me the day off of work is good in my book.

As promised, the mice from my CNY dinner the Saturday night came out pretty cute. The trick is to work pretty quickly with the molten rice krispie mixture and to keep your hands a little moist as to prevent extra sticking.
I used regular old gel icing from Safeway for the eyes and noses, Twizzlers for the tails and then, as luck would have it, as I was scanning the candy aisle for licorice, I found this odd tiny baby bottle full of candy pacifiers. Well, awesome, if you stick them just right into the mouse, they look like ears! I'm sure these things are seasonal, so be careful if you go out looking for them. I found the candy at Rite-Aid.

If you want to make little baby seals, you can do that too. (see picture at left for 'naked' mice) ha. Of course, I made mice because it's the Chinese Year of the Rat. I was worried cause my fam usually passes out some gourmet level treats (this year included a sampler box from Charles Chocolates, the special beef jerky, and some homemade biscotti), but everyone seemed to love the idea of the mice, so I felt good about that.

CNY dinner with my family is the only time of year tho', where I will go bringing stuff and leave with more stuff than I brought. The Germ also got to bring home all the leftovers on top of: chocolates, shortbread, homemade cookies, biscotti, oranges, crackers, a bag of mice and plenty of lai see. Oh and some belated Christmas gifts.

Dinner itself was delicious, heavy on the meat and rather bereft of vegetables, but yummy nonetheless. Aftermath pictured here:
You can see remnants of the Peking duck and lobster. Traditional banquet food, but hey, once a year-it's pretty good. I got to sit next to my aunt Ori, and she's pretty hilarious. The interesting thing is that apparently a branch of my grandfather's family was also there last night and people at our table were saying, "Oh, do we say something?" No family is perfect, but I still think mine is pretty cool.


Last night, Mayzie invited me out to her friend's b-day party in the Castro. As her hubby is currently ensconced on the East Coast and she was coming all the way out to the city from the East Bay, she wanted somebody to come along. Well, I'm always happy to oblige; it was rumored that one of the original cast members of 'Legally Blonde' was going to be there-which sadly, never materialized-still plenty of local actors and also, strangely enough, Murtagh and Cozard (singer friends that I know) were there, getting a couple of drinks with their friend. It was good night all around, especially when we started drunk dialing.

"How about Aili?"
"Darn...voice mail! How about Fabala, will she pick up her phone?"
"Fabala? No, she's in tech week."
"Hurmnnh...ooh, how about [casting director for huge Bay Area Theater]?"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure that would go over well. Heeeeeyy Lezzzleeeyyy, whaz sup?"
"ahah. Ok, no."
"Good bar story though. And this one time, I totally drunk dialed a casting director!"
"...and then I never worked again."

The best part of the night for me came when we were getting ready to leave and chatting up the b-day boy. A rather natty older gentleman, carrying a large Nike SLR and with sharped combed back white locks, came up to us:

'I just wanted to say how beautiful you are.'

Disclaimer: being rather used to having GORGEOUS female friends who constantly get picked up while we're out, I thought he was referring to Mayzie who is a dancer and has these stunning aquamarine blue eyes. So she said, "Oh thank you!" but Nattygent turned towards me, and said

"Oh well, I meant YOU. I mean you are also beautiful. (refers to Mayzie) But, I'm totally gay! I mean really! But you're just really beautiful!" and he gave me a hug and then he was gone.

"Well, my job is done for the night. I can go home now." - me, smiling.

Thank you Nattygent, I don't get that compliment very often, so you made my night. Whee!

Wait a sec

BTW please do not read my previous claim of doing

'adult stuff'

as a pennyism for stuff that's dirty. heh heh. I think i definitely distinguish my heart stuff and kid stuff as distinct and different from my adult life. (coincidentally, none of which I did today)

that's it, go about your business. I'll upload stuff tomorrow.

Simple little dreams will do.

So other than making rice krispie treat mice this morning-dropping a pot on my toe in the process (and now I'm waiting for Joolie to pick me up to go to lunch), I also did some adult stuff, like signing some forms for our accountant. And realized something.

I made $$$ last year; by performing.

It's like getting paid for breathing.
Cause all I'm doing is being. Accessing the core of my heart and letting it out.
And people pay to see that?
That's sort of cool. (even my fiscally conservative dad agrees)

So I've been asked to put together a short gig for a date in April, and I get to pick all my own music. So far I've really taken a shine to these:
'Say Goodbye' by Scott Alan
'Even Though' by Saltzman and Cunningham (WANT)
'Simple Things' from '110 in the Shade'
'Evenin' Star' from '110 in the Shade'

ps. install Rhapsody. You'll love it, I swear.

For fun: try Morgan's Tarot
Totally unlike traditional tarot, Morgan's Tarot instead focuses on the reader truly interpreting the cards for themselves with a simplified caption for each image that is mostly general instead of specifically a warning or blessing. It simply reminds people to be mindful of the choices they are making and also to reflect on what's going on for them.
It gives me less ooky feelings than regular tarot and is also hosted on Doley's website, Sleepbot (he was the guy who spit whipped cream in ST).

Dang, time for bed.

Nanu nanu

To the sweetly lonely and the lone sweethearts.
Know that there is somebody PERFECT out there for you
Maybe they're not tall, or rich or uber intelligent, but...
Who will love your stinky feet
Tolerate your weird obsession with kermit
Drive for hours helping you find the thing you can't find at IKEA
Laugh at the same parts of movies you do.
Understand your passions
Support your drive
Like your friends
Protect the little squishy, sweet, cadbury egg innards that make you you.
They are NOT, I repeat, not jealous.
Never make you feel like you are weird
Or different
Or on a different planet

Lovers who love you, see...they're from your planet
Nanu nanu.
They know that you cannot order a coconut strawberry crepe from Ti Couz (cause it's bizarre)
How they smell turns you on
They know why kids are important beings
And pets are too
How to grab your hand just right
And stroke your cheek with one finger without even being asked
They are optimistic yet real
They are NOT the naysayers, no matter what your mom says.
They are the extraordinary believers.
YOU have to believe in someone out there who is perfect for you.
In fact, you sort of owe it to them
Because they're believing in you.


(I got the bestest, hugest valentine in the mail today from my darling friend Shmar aka Panda. And it just makes me so happy, you have no idea. sorry I couldn't figure out the mirror option on my iphoto, but you get the idea right?)

Lee boning

oh.my.god.
I am so friggin' hungry right now. ravenous. like, I could eat a whole chicken ravenous.
so I am guessing in the curbs hunger breakfast yogurt does win over bagel.
bah.

i cleaned the bathroom last night. finally.

isn't my life exciting?! whoo!!! hee.

here, watch a video from bigbadchinesemama aka kristina wong (who, incidentally, I went to middle school with and worked on yearbook committee-i was art, she was writing and layout. yeah, nerd central-get over it, i'm not as cool as i look on tv) about how i often feel too when i go to ross dress for less.


except for the teeny shorts. i'm not down with the teeny shorts.

i swear that i will get back into the swing of this writing thing soon. it's like riding a bike, or running 5k or knitting-slow start, quick recovery.

oh...ok, weird chinese person fact. when i was growing up, and i'm not quite sure who told me this; if it was my mom or dad or what. but if you are chinese, did you ever hear that you shouldn't date anyone that has the same last name as you? as in, i - penny w*ng- cannot date john w*ng, because IN THEORY we could be related? so we would have 6 toed, cross-eyed babies and such. but then, tons of immigrants who came to the west coast often took fake last names ie. 'paper sons' in order to get into the us. for example, until 1955 or so, my grandfather was a Lee. sometimes people would keep their 'paper son' name and other times they would change it back. so if my gung-gung hadn't changed it back, i might still be a 'lee' but i could totally bone and marry a guy who was also a 'lee'.
weird right?

I will click my heels three times

Tina Su writes an amazing blog called Think Simple Now-and she, coincidentally, intersecting with my post of two days ago, wrote an entry on the origins of guilt and how to resolve them.
3. The Law of Cause and Effect
“Every action generates a force of energythat returns to us in like kind . .what we sow is what we reap.
And when we choose actions that bring happiness and success to others,the fruit of our karma is happiness and success.”
Example Application:
‘Whenever I make a choice, I will ask myself two questions: “What are the consequences of this choice that I’m making?” and “Will this choice bring fulfillment and happiness to me and also to those who are affected by this choice?”



Nice little coinkydink, no? It sort of answered my question the way I thought I should. Guilt, like any emotion, is strictly a figment of le imagination.

*****************

Want. Big time. From Plasticland.

Maybe these are too reminscent of a shoe from Oz; but I love the color, the ankle strap and double strap in front for the round toe Mary Jane effect, and the wedge. It's too fun.

Plus...little secret? Best sales section in Walnut Creek currently? Urban Outfitters. I am totally diggin' on this light blue dress I found with an all over tree print. I think it will be mine @ $19.00.

Monkey Toes

"We are unavailable to take your call. Please leave your message at the sound of the tone. Beeep!"
"Hey, it's me. WAAAYYYYKKEEE UPPP!! Helooooo?!?!"
" Dayam woman, why you always be yelling in mah phone?"

"We're getting food."

Pen: "Yo, are we getting 2 or 11?"
Mo: "Oh...2."
Pen: "That looks like 11."

5 minutes later, Pen peers over the menu, erases Mo's marks and writes in '2',
Pen: "Sorry dude, it just looks like 11...holy shit!"
Nim: "Wha?"
Pen: "Did you see what Mo wrote 11 by?"
Nim: "No."
Pen looks up evilly and smiles at Mo.
Pen: "I'm glad I changed that, cause 11 of those would have been EXPENSIVE."
Mo had put two line marks next to the 'Shark's fin soup dumplings'

Welcome to our day of lardassery. Mo and Moward recently worked tech for me; and also were my impromptu therapists as I spent several nights wanting to cut the heads off of actors. As a present (or 'positive reinforcement' as Jessiera put it), I took them out for yum cha. After throwing around a couple of ideas, we finally decided on the newly reopened Far Eastern (which used to be the old HK Restaurant on Geary). So we invited our frequent dim sum buddy, Nim, along for the meal. We've also gotten into the habit of eating around 10:30-which is actually not too bad at Far Eastern-where all the treats are made according to order instead of being wheeled around on carts. Some places don't even bring out the good stuff til 11 or 11:30 when they are the most busy, when they roll with the carts.

"My grandpa had a saying. Going to yum cha and ordering cha siu bao is like going to Baskin-Robbins and getting vanilla."

No pictures-too busy eating. heh heh. We had: the aforementioned shark's fin dumplings, siu mai, ha gow, cha siu bow (the white man ordered this), lo mai gai (sweet rice in a lotus leaf), black bean spareribs, dan taht, steamed egg custard cake, stuffed eggplant, shrimp chive dumplings, beef cheong fun, gee bow gai (foil wrapped chicken), fried dough puffs with mushrooms/pork/veg, beef meatballs, xiao long bao, black sesame filled mochi, and a bowl of miscellaneous innards. Oh! And fu jow. CHICKEN FEET.

Nim told me this awesome story about how in college, he once brought some fu jow home and then stuck them in the back of the fridge where he promptly forgot them. Cut to two weeks later he is back at UC Santa Cruz. Nim picks up the phone to incoherent but banshee related screaming out of which he can only make out two words, "MONKEY TOES!" Turns out, his mom had been trying, futilely to find the stench wrecking havoc on her fridge. She found and opened the box of fu jow, now engorged and fuzzy where they had started to mold, and recoiled. The only sense she could make out of it was that her first born child had joined some sort of whack Asian cult where they store and devour primate digits as a ritualistic oriental initiation. Just kidding, Nim's mom isn't racist-she's just not used to opening up a box of moldy chicken feet in her fridge.

Back to eating. The standards were up to standard-hot, juicy, tasty. Is it just me, or was gee bow gai ALWAYS spicy, or did it just start getting that way the last couple of years? I wouldn't count any standouts here. Golden Gate is still the best for dan taht. Shanghai Dumpling King is still better for xiao long bao, the miscellaneous innards didn't taste clean. East Ocean in Alameda makes better egg custard cake. But bitching aside, the food was passable. And I don't often see the shark's fin on a ton of menus. The other disturbing thing was that at either end of the dining room was a large screen HD tv-showing New Year's celebrations from Sri Lanka or Singapore. Which involved inserting what looked like metal arrow fletches into the top layer of flesh in a decorative style. Gross! Not the best thing to be watching while eating; luckily the Chinese have iron wills and stomachs. And a great propiety for active detachment when they're eating.



Afterwards, we stopped by a local comic book shop on Geary. Cards and Comics Central.
I was duly impressed by: a glow in the dark Darth Vader bobble head, a convertible Yoda pillow, the ludicrous amounts of anatomically impossible anime babe figures and the overall size of the store. I bought a peek-a-Pooh. Nim bought some Super Mario apple candies which he promptly had to dispose of when he found out they contained aspertame. Mo bought stuff for the Bean.

ahha: review from Yelp
I had no idea that places like this existed. The comics, sure, I've seen that, and the pokemon and sports cards, OK, fine. The action figures go along with that, that makes sense. What really blew me away was the back room, where the unlicensed games of Magic: The Gathering happen on long card tables with seedy, dangerous looking teenagers. Man, do not mess around with these games. They will CUT you. For serious.

Pen: "Wow, it's totally weird that even the music they play hasn't changed." (it was some version of KFOG)

Cards and Comics Central
5424 Geary Boulevard
San Francisco, CA 94121
415-668-3354

Far Eastern Restaurant
Geary & 17th (look for the seagreen awning)

Subtly standing.

So...

The interwebs has decided to give the webmaster a hard time. There is some clearing out to do and some formatting issues to figure out with WP aka 'the platform of evil, version 2.0'. Plus, she is a pretty busy lady herself and personal blog maintenance comes fairly low on her priority list.

Determined to publish my idosyncracy come hell or high water, I have come up with 'Pentemporary'. Clever aint' I?

There's been a lot going on the last couple of weeks, but now that my stage managing gig is up, I finally have some free time. To just...chill. (so this is where my long ass entry was about actors and ego, but that's just wrong. I'll save that for another way)

So here's what I was thinking today; what is the nature of guilt? I mean, does guilt actually exist if we don't create it?

For example, there is a birthday party over the pond (and I mean, the Bay) that I'm currently not attending. It's for a guy in the cast, Hob, that has been very sweet to all of us. He commuted to SF from Vallejo for the show for Christ's sake. He came to see ST in the Mission...in the rain...at 10pm...with flowers. He's a great actor, amazing graphic artist (you should see the kick ass posters he made) and all around great person.

and I'm being a douche and not at his b-day party. Even though I told him last night I would be there. And I was an even bigger douche, and called him at 6pm...when his party was starting...to tell him I wouldn't be there...but happy birthday. It's not even a good reason for not being there. It's the fact that today's Sunday. And work is tomorrow.

Vallejo to SF: 1hr 15 min. + traffic (x25)
SF to Berkeley: 30 min. + traffic (x1)

After hanging up the phone, I felt this intense wash of guilt sort of just take over. Clenching in the gut, tightening the back of the neck. A cold creep. The need for some sort of absolution. To confess in a little booth to a guy wearing a white collar. See, I'm a big believer in karma. That what I do today will affect what happens to me tomorrow. Three fold.

But here is what it true; I would have stayed for roughly 45 minutes before wanting to get the hell home and jump into a pair of jammies. I would have stayed about 1-1/2 hrs. to be 'polite'. I would have used 1/8 tank of gas. The 'social intercourse' face would have had to stay on for that time. (and she uses approximately 3x the amount of energy that 'crankypants' face or 'lazyass' face does) and most of my store of 'outgoing' had been used up earlier in the day.

These are all excuses of course. What else is true is that JammyPenny was so much more attractive than PartyPenny. But JammyPenny also has to accept her serving of guilt. The attempt at feeling not guilty was tried for roughly 1/2 an hour before the need to blog crept in.

So I'm not asking for absolution from you kind reader. But whether or not guilt exists because we make it so. Paris Hilton wouldn't care about missing a birthday party. But I'm not Paris Hilton. Is guilt then created by who we want ourselves to be and what standards we hold ourselves to? Or is is socially wired into our bodies in order to not fall into a chasm of chaos?

Hmmm...

**********
I saw him yesterday. On the loveliest day in a while. Bright, breezy, warm. At the entrance to Trader Joe's of all things. A flash of green track jacket catches my eye and suddenly, he is there. We hug, but I try to be brief. The body remembers all too well, the feeling of another solid underneath. He is still sweet and I still lose all time when I am with him. Mr. Jones has filled his cart by the time he finds us, my basket still swinging freely on my arm-free of any item. I am so determined that my father and his parents will connect in some way. Mr. Jones is busy shopping to the point of bemused detachment(I literally roll my eyes cause I think he's being rude) and his parents are on the lookout for tapenade.
They leave, and it is all over too soon. I want to grab him and talk to him for three hours. Want to leave with him, hand in hand and find his mother the perfect olive mushy spread to eat with baguette. (He of course has no idea what it is) But we hug; he is off to Arizona next week for a competition. And I ask myself, do you still feel the same way about this man? The guy who is shopping aimlessly with his parents and wants to show you the back of his throat and tell you his digestive stories?
I can only tell you, I take another 15 minutes frantically pacing the aisles, endorphin levels racing, looking for an appropriate appetizer and end up with nothing.

My father and I walk back to the car in the bright sunshine,
and everything is alright.