breathtaking

Sailor Lake, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California

Photo by unknown

 Southern Oregon Coast

Photo by Jesse Estes

 Maelstrom in Kauai, Hawaii

Photo by PatrickSmithPhotography

i always do this

Currently scrambling to find something fun to do on New Year's Eve and since sex is out of the question, I'm beginning to flirt with the idea of swimming in drugs and alcohol. Maybe not so much the drugs, but if I impulsively buy a ticket to TAO...

What do I dooooo?

gobble gobble

This weekend consisted of:

• Dinner with family, which was, as usual, devoid of any turkey,
• Moonlight Madness shopping at Citadel Outlets, which was freezing but kind of worth it,
• Potluck with friends, which included delicious deep-fried turkey but I was DD and we all know how much it pains me not to drink, especially if chocolate martinis are readily available,
  
• A job application...though it was supposed to be five,
  
• Indulging in some Starcraft 2 and Naruto,
• Chocolate, cookies, hot cocoa and movies,
• Experimentation with this little thing. Bwahahaha gracias, J.
  

I don't need a holiday to be reminded of how much I have to be thankful for, but since it meant two days less at the depressing hole I call my office, I had absolutely no objections.

so deep, so cool

me: btw, your mom is using your old phone from two years ago

and we were in the car and it started ringing

and the ringtone is still set to "so deep"

many memories came flooding back XD

J: LOL really

thats almost kinda awkward

having my mom's ringtone be something so cool

this blows

This is the last hour I'll have with J before he gets on his 10:30am plane tomorrow. Listening to music together over Skype, making funny faces at each other and trying to come up with a name for a blog that he plans to start once safely abroad. That pretty much sums up how we spend most of our time together.

Now, to be celibate for 6 months...wish me luck!

trick or treat

Too old for it? I think not!

Will let you know how successful it is. With four days left, I neither have a costume idea nor the materials to make one should inspiration strike. Also need to work on procuring a small child to take along. You know, to offset the shadiness of a 20-something-year-old in costume and trick-or-treating. Although I guess it's not half as shady as a grown man in the same position.

no sex, just lust

It's amazing how much stress can dampen one's sex drive. It's been exactly 20 days since I last saw J. Within that time I have, as Leigh likes to call it, "loved" myself only twice, both times in the same day...and that was a week ago.

I'm also waiting on my period. It's a vicious cycle though; it's late because I'm stressed out, but I stress out more because it's late, which ends up delaying it further (at least, that's how I like to think it works). I never thought I'd be stupid enough to let something like this happen, but I'm 99% certain that it didn't actually happen. I'll start panicking in earnest if I skip next month too.

You'd think that I'd swear off even looking at guys until I can breathe easy again, but nope, that is not the case. I've developed a small crush on Ryan Higa of YouTube fame. He's just so damn pretty, but that's why we'd never be able to work out even if he ever looked my way. Still, he's quite a treat for the eyes :P

And then there's Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

Damn you, Claudia Schiffer.
Photographer: Ellen von Unwerth

Mmm.
Photographer: Ellen von Unwerth

This is supremely sexy, in a very strange way. And this is just hilarious. Oh, the things I would do to him...

where did life go?

As grateful as I am to be employed right now, I also kind of miss having a life. I live for the weekends more than ever now, especially since I've been working Monday through Saturday. That leaves Sunday as my recovery day, but all I can bring myself to do is catch up on episodes of Naruto and read naughty fanfics. Sadly, even that has to be spread out over the course of two or three days since I only have a couple hours to myself every night.

I grabbed frozen yogurt with Leigh and Elise yesterday, and they relentlessly made fun of me after I revealed my latest dream in which The Dork propositioned me despite both of us seeing other people. Not exactly sure what my subconscious was trying to tell me there. I think the bitter part of me just dreamed it up to feel superior to his current girlfriend. Don't ask me how they're still relevant because I didn't think they were either.

legs, and not the sexy kind

I was absorbed in job applications last night, filling forms out as fast as I could to meet a deadline. As engrossed as I was in my task, I saw fast movement out of the corner of my eye and before my brain had time to process what the hell I was looking at, I screamed bloody murder and rocketed out of my seat in an effort to get as far away from the thing as possible. I stared at the mass of legs that had appeared on the wall above my desk as my mom came rushing in to find out what all the commotion was about. All I could do was point stupidly and hop around helplessly. She kept saying it was a centipede, though at the time I didn't understand what she was telling me. And I had no idea what it was since I had never seen something so huge and hideous in my life that was not confined in a glass tank, but if I had to guess I would've said a centipede. All I could think about was the legs. Oh god, so many legs...!

She ended up smashing it with a sandal and tossing it into the toilet to flush to a watery grave, but before that happened I insisted on taking pictures so I could have a closer look at the monstrous thing. I'm not going to post those pictures because who wants to look at pieces of a squished bug in a toilet bowl? I will, however, leave this for you so you know just how scary this hell-spawn was.

Anyway, my mom is my hero. If I ever get married, I hope my hubby won't be as big of a wuss as I am. Some of the thing's legs are still stuck to my wall, but I can't seem to bring myself to clean them off.

dreamworld drama

Weather's getting hot again and you know what that means...weird dreams!

In this particular episode, J basically told me he was going to sleep with someone else. I don't know how I could've said okay to that, but my dream-self seems to be a huge pushover to the point where it's idiotic. Oh, and I let him sleep with me before he left right afterward to do it with her. This would not fly in real life. I had a similar dream months ago, except that time the other woman was blonde. And he actually told me he wanted to practice with me before going to see her (?!?).

I don't normally have recurring dreams, so you'd think that I must have some deep-seated issues revolving around a fear of getting cheated on if I've essentially had the same dream twice already. But I don't. I've never been more secure in a relationship. The only explanation I could come up with is that my subconscious is trying to sabotage my happiness. Is it because I don't think I deserve him? Maybe. But he thinks I deserve him, so that's all that matters.

Not to mention he'd be crazy to cheat on me! ;D

spontaneity

Le BFF is coming home tonight and crashing at my place for a couple of days. We're hoping to go get some drinks tonight and maybe paint the town...Scarlet. Hahaha you saw that one coming.

HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH!

Friday the 13th has only ever brought me good things. Don't fail me now!

the family bitch

The phone's ringing in the living room, dad's in the adjacent kitchen but his hands are full. Mom's in the sewing room adjacent to that doing goodness knows what.

Dad says, "Phone's ringing."

"What?"

"The phone."

"Scarlet will get it."

"Scarlet's not going to get it, she can't hear it."

Even more annoying than overhearing this exchange is the still-ringing phone, so in defeat I just run out to get it. I pick up and hear the sound of the other person hanging up.

Sigh.

superstitious

My grandma came over today and was chatting with my mom about how my cousin's family is looking for a new house. She mentioned that they found something reasonable close to where my cousin used to go to school, and my mom promptly said, "The most important thing is that the house is clean." By "clean," I knew she actually meant "not haunted."

My mom's solution: "Just have them take the baby inside to play and see if he likes it."

"The baby" is actually my 6-year-old cousin, but for all intents and purposes he is the baby in the family. I guess he's still young enough for the procedure. Apparently, kids and animals can see things that adults can't. Even if this were true, I can't help but feel like it should count as some kind of abuse. My mom tells me that my brother and I were her "cleanliness" meters before we moved into our current house. Fancy that! I'm so glad that my mother would so readily subject us to potentially traumatic experiences at the tender ages of 1 and 4, respectively.

bad taste

My mom and I were talking about my brother and I made a crack about how ugly he is, even though it constituted an inadvertent insult to myself since we look alike (but I don't actually think he's ugly :P). She, of course, came to his defense.

"Your brother's not ugly, he's quite handsome."

Facetiously, I responded, "You're just saying that because you're his mom. He's alriiight."

"No, he's good-looking," she insisted. "In fact, not one of your friends is handsomer than him."

This caught me off guard. I paused briefly, wondering whether she was implying what I thought she was implying with her word "friends." I decided to laugh and answered nonchalantly, "Yeeeah, they're all ugly too."

She chuckled and looked satisfied. I knew what she was going to say before she even said it. "Well no, that one boy you brought home was pretty handsome. He was pale and clean-cut." Oh no, there she goes with the paleness again. She always had a soft spot for The Woman. I wondered if she would feel the same way if she knew him the way I used to and momentarily considered tainting his perfect image in her mind with some careful words but pushed the thought away. I only grimaced at her comments.

"Eh, he was like a woman."

"What, you mean he was gay?"

"No, he just acted like a fussy old lady."

I couldn't tell what she was thinking after that, and I wasn't sure how much more to tell her without revealing the past 8 years of my secret life of dating so we abandoned the subject. I think that's the closest we've ever come to openly talking about my (non-existent up until now) boyfriends. But I don't know, we might still be in denial. I'll let you know.

So um...did she really call me out for having bad taste in men?

If my idea of hot is people like Takeshi Kaneshiro and Dennis O'Neil, I'm kind of hard-pressed to find that outside of the celebrity bubble. Sure, there are plenty of attractive guys that I could potentially meet in the world, but then there's also the issue of being on the same wavelength. It's not easy to find a good combination of physical and emotional chemistry. And I wouldn't be able to stand dating someone hotter than me, so that eliminates a fair chunk of the dating pool.

Sorry, Takeshi, you're too hot for me :(

Yeah, you too, Dennis. Ugh, :9

It doesn't matter anyway. I care more about having someone with whom I can hold a conversation. Besides, love makes everyone beautiful...if it's within reason. LOL.

vindictive

The Dork came up over dinner conversation last night and Elise told me his family doesn't like his girlfriend because she's mean and it would be unlucky to marry someone "with a big forehead." Inwardly, I felt a ripple of satisfaction and gloated a bit in spite of myself. It's irrelevant to my life now since it's been months since I've spoken to her and years since I was in contact with him, but I relished the information anyway. A saint I certainly am not.

The rundown: she was one of my best friends, he was my first love, and we weren't even broken up for two weeks before they were official. Frankly, the last half of that year traumatized me. What is it about high school that makes it such a virile breeding ground for drama and angst?

After all is said and done though, I manage to shove the vindictive bitch in me back into her golden cage because nothing should excuse my malice. The only circumstance under which one might be allowed to overindulge in bitterness is when it takes the form of dark chocolate. Or coffee, if that's your thing.

"3.5 oz of milk chocolate that promises never to lie to you, to be there in the morning*, to never ask your age and to really truly listen to everything you have to say."

*obviously it won't be there for you if you've eaten it all the night before.

lazy saturday

I thought sleeping patterns for my generation (or for young adults in general with nothing better to do than poke around the internet) were trending toward sleeping late and waking up late, which is why I also believed there was an unspoken rule in place that barred any phone calls before noon. Not so, apparently! Leigh just came back from her two week stint visiting family and wanted to grab lunch with Elise, so despite being woken up before I had my fill of delicious slumber, I was excited to see them and dragged my sleepy self out of bed.

I suggested that we head to the Kang Kang food court so that they could try some Shanghainese pan-fried bao (生煎包, sheng jian bao), which are small buns filled with pork and soup.

Covered in scallions and black sesame. Yum!

To my immense relief, they seemed to enjoy the food. We intended to go back to Elise's and make dessert, but we ended up lounging around and having girl talk about ex-boyfriends, marriage, tattoos, feminine hygiene, sex, vacation spots, and moving out instead.

Our conversations reaffirmed two things for me: a) getting married at 28 like my 16-year-old self originally planned does not give me enough time to do the things I want before tying myself down and b) even after having at least four months to think about it and potentially change my mind, I still want a tattoo.

I was a little too embarrassed to admit to the girls what image I wanted to permanently replace a patch of my skin with, but here on aesthetic seduction I am utterly unashamed!

Yeah, from a game. But not because it's from a game.

It'll probably have to be in the middle of my back. Somewhere that I don't regularly look at on the off-chance that I do get it and come to regret it. I tend to change my mind a lot.

P.S. My dreams are beginning to give me orgasms that rival the intensity of those reached in my waking hours. As if sleep wasn't appealing enough already.

here, there, everywhere

Waiting for J to finish his business in downtown so I can meet him for dinner. Feeling pretty restless. Played Wii tennis for the first time yesterday and woke up sore from it. Haha, apparently I was treating it a little too much like real tennis. Seriously though, I've sunk to an all-time low if a Wii game has given me a workout...

Currently reading Anna Karenina and not certain whether I like it yet. I'm less than a third of the way finished, but still not very much has happened. I want to see more scandal! XD

paranoia

I couldn't tell you when it started to happen, but as I got older I started getting a lot more paranoid. Some of the things I do are common sense, like checking over my shoulder when I'm walking alone, keeping my purse tucked tight under my arm (if it has a shoulder strap, then I wear that across my body), and never carrying more cash/cards than necessary.

It's when darkness falls that my paranoia spills over into borderline-crazy territory. The wall of my room that separates me from the outside is also what makes me feel so exposed to it. I keep the window up just to let in some air at night, but then the leaves in the alley rustle and sometimes I swear they start to crunch as if someone's stepping on them. Most likely it's just a stray cat or something, but still.

Several nights ago, just when I began to drift off, I thought I heard a noise in the living room and then footsteps outside my door. I bolted up and strained to listen, then convinced myself that it was nothing but couldn't shake the unease. I spent a couple minutes laying in bed deliberating over what course of action to take should it turn out that there was an intruder and cursed myself for not keeping something with lethal potential in my room. As it turns out, the noises just came from one of my parents getting up to pee.

I blame this whole episode of heightened freaking out on another incident that occurred a few days prior, where my land line was tied up for at least half an hour by an unknown caller. I picked up the first few times, but gave up on that when the other end only remained silent every time. Nevertheless, my mind went into horror movie mode and I started looking out all the windows to see if someone could be watching me. I finally had to unplug the line when I got tired of hearing the phone ring. Do people still actually do prank calls? But that also begs the question of why we still have a land line. Hmm.

In sum, I seem to be rather fond of self-induced heart attacks.

wet dreams

Last night gifted me with some really intense sex dreams, involving someone tall, dark and presumably handsome. I actually can't recall what he looked like because his face was lost to the transitional blackout as my mind moved to the next dream...and this all sounds like a drunken hookup now that I think about it.

It was a welcome deviation from what my subconscious has been giving me lately. Most of the time, my dreams aren't based off anything that happened to me during the day, but I do have an idea of what might have been responsible for planting that particular seed in my subconscious.

Naughty fanfics + Hormones + Sexually Deprived = Mind-blowing sex dreams

And for the first time in two weeks, I woke up to a cool breeze and overcast weather, as opposed to stifling heat and blinding sunlight. J calls me a vampire and I don't bother to deny it. But come on, mild weather & hot consensual sex or extreme heat & pirate rape? I wish everyday could be 70 degrees.

Unless one of these two is the pirate in question.

aubergine

It hardly needs to be repeated, but ugh--YouTube is amazing. So much useful information at your disposal! Yeah, the same can be said about the Internet, but now you can imagine how awesome that must be. Anyway, I digress.

I was clicking through some Gordon Ramsay videos, and "aubergine caviar" caught my eye. What in the world is aubergine? I thought. So then I'm watching him give his introduction, and then he pulls out a freakin' eggplant. How anticlimactic. Leave it to the British to use a pompous word like "aubergine" for something that can plainly be called "eggplant." lol But I rather like it.

Eggplant will invariably remind me of one thing every time it comes up, and every time I can't resist telling the story to any poor soul who is willing to listen because it's nearly the stupidest thing in the world.

One silly night, three years ago, I was chatting online with The Woman and somehow we got on the topic of eggplant. I asserted that it looks pretty gross when it's cooked, at least in the ways I've seen it prepared, but also added a disclaimer about never having tried it so I can't speak for its taste. Something along the following lines ensued:

"Hey, you better watch what you say next time because eggplant happens to be one of my favorite foods."

"Well, you can say it's your favorite food, but I still think it looks gross."

This looks delicious to me now, but tell me it doesn't look a little like tentacles.

The argument starts to escalate after a little more back and forth as neither of us would yield. Then, as if trying to concede and put the whole thing behind us (read: make me shut up):

"I guess it's just because Americans aren't as exposed to eggplant dishes."

Bitch PLEASE. Cooked eggplant looks like slimy tentacles because I'm too "American"? lol So then we started arguing about the degree of my Americanization. There were tears, angry tears on my end. We didn't speak for a bit, I took a walk, then I called to apologize. Bleh! In retrospect, I almost wish that had ended the relationship. It really was that stupid.

But I had the last word several months later, oh yes. When he insisted that he had to talk to me in person and handed me 8 pages (some front and back) detailing my flaws, our problems, and away messages he didn't understand, I broke up with him and the poor fool cried. I know, I'm a bitch.