Sunday, August 30, 2009

Weekend Adventure: LA Fashion District


Angela deflowered my LA fashion district bargain shopping-self this weekend. This isn't to say that I don't live for bargain shopping, I've just never taken advantage of the fashion district's early morning Saturday shopping. Vendors open super early and sell all the fashion goods that for some reason, be it overstocking or a small detail mistake, never made it to a retail store. It was quite an adventure that reminded me somewhat of shopping in Korea. Figures, since 99.9% of them are Korean-owned. Food everywhere, Korean vendors with Engrish names, nothing over $10. I made quite the killing, and even scored some free Korean cosmetic samples. I don't think I ever want to pay full price for anything. LA fashion district, you'll be seeing more of me often.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Thursday, August 27, 2009

People of Walmart

http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Slipping into someone elses' vomit

My left knee is now the future home of a small bruise I developed after slipping and falling in someone elses' vomit.

Oh, don't worry. You read that right.
The kicker? It was daytime and I was sober. What kind of sober idiot slips and falls in someone elses' vomit? Me. I can liken the experience to the prom scene from"Carrie" -- only I slipped and blood wasn't poured on me. And no one laughed because surprisingly, I was in some unchartered area of shopping mall corridor leading to the bathrooms. I guess you could say it was the reverse Carrie prom scene, with vomit and no laughing witnesses. (Or witnesses at all.) In my defense, whoever produced the vomit, was something of a mastermind probably out to get unsuspecting, harmless, God-fearing women like myself without ever getting caught. The vomit in question, was watery and had camouflaged itself against the linoleum floor. Slippery-when-wet-signs were nowhere to be found at the scene of the crime.

Still in my reverse Carrie state trying to recover, a cleaning lady watched me, horrified. I was out for blood against retail property owning corporations and all of a sudden, in dire need of a shower. So, I filed a safety complaint. I was told someone will, "take care of it." If there is justice in the world, I'm hoping for a mall shopping spree or a free dinner.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

white eyeliner


I've been meaning to show how I've recently discovered white eyeliner as an eye-widening tool, but unfortunately my phone camera is one big fail. I'd also have to clean my room to find my actual camera.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Post-modern dreaming

Older Sibling Appreciation Day. Does that exist? I think it should.
I don't mind a little appreciation here and there. Especially given the events of early this morning. Long story short, my brother got trashed and never came home to avoid possible DUI charges. Upon receipt of the news, I woke up at 4 am to form a mound of clothing resembling a 6 foot tall 21 year old still living at home, on top of my brother's bed. It sufficiently passed. So much so, that if he was ever gone for extreme amounts of time and I happened to miss him -- that mound of clothing would help me cope with his absence.

Well, not really...but you get it.

Speaking of 'getting it,' I had two weird dreams last night that I don't get. Mostly because they're dreams of me waking up from dreams. I know, I'm so post-modern. The first dream is recurring and I'm dreaming that I'm waking up from a dream only to find that I have hornets buzzing in front of my face. I look to the side to find a hornet hive hanging from my ceiling, just chillin'. Buzzing about and being intimidating like it was going out of style.

When I wake up from my dream where I've dreamt that I've woken up to hornets in my face, my head falls back on something hard. My head was up previously as a natural response to waking up from a dream where you've dreamt you had hornets in your face. When I turn over to inspect what the hardness was/see how Ikea had failed me, I find that I was actually resting upon the naked, hardened pectoral muscle of an adonis. And then I woke up, for real.

Hopefully this isn't God's way of telling me that even if I'm not actually going to be stung by a hornet, I'm still not going to wake up next to an adonis? I don't get it.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

can't sleep

  • So, thanks to the California budget crisis, my cardiokickboxing instructor is actually just a football coach who's never taught a kickboxing class. That's like me teaching a kickboxing class. What is it like having me teach a kickboxing class? Not good.
  • I was douche-y today and had someone introduce me in lab by mentioning I was a managing editor of Ningin.com. I don't actually officially start until tomorrow.
  • Not sure if it's obvious, but I don't have a lot going on in the dating department. Or anything at all. Hence, the onslaught of Alexander Skarsgard pictures.
  • Besides that, I have friends who update me often with raucous sex stories. I also attended a wedding not long ago -- I got drunk and made out with the bride's best friend. That'll hold me over until 2012.
  • 7 Eleven's 99 cent iced coffee isn't bad, I just wish it wasn't half creamer.
  • On a superficial note, I saw Zara's Fall 2009 collection in the thread (as opposed to flesh?) and my head exploded and my wallet cried. No damage done obviously because my head exploded.
  • I think praying is effective when people think outside of the box when it comes to answers from God. God's not human, he doesn't communicate like we do.
Now, I am spent. Nite!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Have mercy.


Say hello to Alexander SkarsgÄrd as Fangtasia's Mr. January. Yummy.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

DJ play that song a little louder...

Domestic Wussy


I often like to brag about how I own domesticity. In the book of domesticity, I wrote chapter 10 -- after Martha Stewart, Julia Child, Betty Crocker and my mom, of course. I even own stock in Domestic Inc. There is however, one aspect of domesticity that I am willing to admit defeat. An aspect that completely humbles me because it kicks my ass every time. It also makes me cry like a bitch, literally:

Onion chopping.

Older, much more respectable women trained in the art of onion chopping (my mom) say that it takes time to conquer. It is taking me an abnormally long time. I have reason to believe it's because I get too creative with the stinging-onion-induced tears prevention. Who wears their younger brother's protective airsoft/paintball mask to chop onions?

I do.

This aside, I still think I give good kitchen. I'm just really embarrassing to watch.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Rehab

I may have a serious problem on my hands. I'm awake, way too much. I O.D. on awakeness. For no reason at all. (See post below.) Before this gets out of control, I've made the decision of going to "awake rehab" and it starts at 1 a.m. tonight. Midnight, tomorrow. My ultimate goal is to not be awake past 10 p.m. on weekdays.

Oh, don't mind me...

... I'm just sharing a blissful moment in the park with Robert Pattinson.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Private elementary school reunion

Growing up I was blessed with the most privileged childhood the middle class could offer: Private Catholic school. For 9 years with the same group of kids we lived the Catholic school dream, prepping ourselves to become the best of the best of what society has to offer -- in the most Catholic way possible. Besides my upstanding Catholic morals and values, there isn't much social evidence that shows I attended a private school. My life updates are pretty boring. I'm thinking of these stories to play with at my reunion:

- I invented Twitter.

- I've amassed fame and fortune out of a popstar career in a foreign country.

- I married a professional athlete and am now a trophy wife?

None these are all that desirable, I just thought they'd be the most entertaining. Most likely I'll just stick with the same, 'What have you been up to?' story.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Send me mail or I'll send you mail

Today was something of an emotional rollercoaster for me. At the same time, I found out that 1) My best friend has to leave the country for good. 2) My dad may lose his job as a mail carrier. Enough time has elapsed to find that my best friend doesn't have to leave the country after all. There is still my dad's situation. I'm thinking of orchestrating a Save Our Post Office Campaign, which would be as simple as sending letters instead of emails for a day. These letters shouldn't be sent for business, but for no reason at all. Just because. It'll urge people to practice penmanship -- because Lord knows we don't do that enough! I'll gladly send anyone a random letter. I'll also gladly receive random letters -- all for the sake of my dad.

Why dating websites aren't necessarily a good idea

Saturday, August 1, 2009

One of many Filipino dad stories: Death by flower?

Proceeding an argument over plumeria flowers and their scents, (don't ask) my dad got to telling me stories about Philippine flowers that bear scents that equate to death. Cadena de amor flowers in the Philippines are notoriously unwanted in places that aren't cemeteries. You can only smell Cadena de amor flowers at night. Despite its sweet scent, the night-time olfactory presence of the Cadena de amor meant that you had to go home or start praying. Or at least stop playing in the cemetery.

If you randomly started to experience wafts of plumeria in places that plumerias aren't usually found, that meant drop everything and run. Plumeria flowers in the Philippines were used to accompany the dead in a casket. Either someone broke into a grave, or someone broke out of a grave. I suppose it's not a good idea to be wearing plumeria scented perfume, for risk of smelling like death?

"DAYUMM GIRL YOU SMELL LIKE A SWEET-ASS CORPSE!"

I'm not quite sure where the image on the left is from but it features a couple wearing traditional Filipino garb, surrounded by Cadena de amor flowers. Nothing says awesome like macabre romance.