Tattoo Who?

Me. First of all, I have to decide which design I want. I've drawn three different ones and...decisions decisions! I've narrowed tattoo parlors down to 4. It was easy enough to go on to seattle.citysearch.com and find the 'best of' for tattoo parlors. I just have to get a quote and pick the cheapest one. Excited and scared!

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The Thing About Straight Clubs...

It's Kyung-i's (spelling?) birthday today and as she's my hairdresser (oh-ho, don't I sound posh!), I, of course, made an appearance (and only because Ryan was going, too). We first stopped by her friend Steven/Stephen's place cuz if we showed up at the club with him, he'd be able to get us in for free. A whole bunch of Asians, all friends with Kyung-i and Anna (a friend I met through Ryan). Ryan and I didn't know anyone there so it was sliiiiightly awkward but at least we could talk to each other and Anna and Kyung-i when they weren't with their other friends. We stuck around for a little and Kyung-i fed me: fried rice. Ah well, beggars can't be choosers (I wasn't hungry when I left but was when I got there). Anna has the cutest wedges by the way.

We ended the night at Venom, formerly known as Medusa. It's a nice place. The music was alright - a bit more 80s/90s than I would've liked - and we got in for free so I'm not complaining. We were ushered into this 'secret' room with its own bar but since we - Ryan and I - weren't drinking, it was a tad boring. We just sat on the couch couch-dancing to the music; enough was enough so we headed out to the floor.

The thing about straight clubs is that it feels so pretentious. Fake. Posed. I always feel the pressure to dance sexy (sexily?), act sexy, be sexy. I always shake off the pressure and say to hell with it most of the time. The other thing is the men. GEEZ. When they get on the dance floor, they are SO all up in your space! They elbow you, bump you and into you, hit you with their arms, elbows, feet, hands, their whole bodies, step on you and do all sorts of violence and they are SO oblivious and inconsiderate. GEEZ FREAKING LOUISE. Can we be a bit more aware of our surroundings?? Do you NOT feel me jabbing my elbow back at you? Take a hint! The clubs in England aren't half as bad. I'm so spoiled by gay clubs.

And now that they've banned smoking in bars and clubs, it's so amazing to leave the club still smelling like my perfume instead of smoke. Wow.

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Give Me Some Tomatoes!

So I can throw it at stupid drivers! ARGH!! There are SO many stupid drivers here nowadays it drives me crazy (no pun intended). If you're turning, use your fucking blinker. If you want to merge and I let you in ahead of me, the least you can do is WAVE a hand to THANK me! GOD! What the hell happened to simple, polite manners?! And get the fuck off my ass! If I can't see your headlights then you're too damn close!! Damn tailgaters!! ARGH!

(I doubt this is healthy.)

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Gowns, Churches, Rice Throwing...Oh My!

Weddings! Did you get it right? Yeah, I've got weddings on my mind. Ever since before Em came back for Christmas, I've been thinking about weddings. So many people around me are getting engaged, married, planning weddings, etc. etc. What's a girl to do but think about weddings?? Em's unofficially engaged and planning her wedding; I can't wait. Russ is engaged and Nadia's planning the wedding as we speak (or as I type, in this case); I hope I'll be able to attend. Kenyatta's boyfriend gave her a diamond promise ring (she's my darling from Vickie's) on Valentine's Day. My eldest male cousin on my mom's side just got married last year and his wife's pregnant. (Another great-grandchild! My grandmother's stoked!) And I just found out that my eldest female cousin on my mom's side is also getting married! This June! Goodness me, so many weddings. It doesn't help that it's also that time of year when all the special wedding editions of magazines are on the stands. I actually looked through one of them and my mind fairly goggled at all the gowns, decorations, tiaras, veils, cakes, rings...the list goes on and on. There are soooooooo many decisions to be made. It's an organiser's dream (or nightmare).

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Exactly 30 days...

...until I'm away and moving on with the rest of my life. I honestly cannot stand any more school at the moment.

My workmates and I are going out to the Melting Pot the Sunday before I fly. It's a fondue restaurant and quite nice, I've heard. It's unique. The girls at work are an amazing group of people. We work so well together and it will be sad to leave because of the fact that we're a good team. Which reminds me of something Jill, my manager, said earlier today. She's a Field Training Manager and while I was typing up the new schedule for March (I felt a small pang when I got the last week and realised that my name wasn't there anymore), she told me that she's training the new manager for our Alderwood store. And about damned time, too. They've been without a manager for freaking too long; Jill and Nina (assistant manager) have been managing two stores without extra compensation and that's just not fair. Anyways, Jill, who's very reluctant to see me go, said that if I weren't going, I could've had the manager position for Alderwood....and that reminded me of something years ago. Back at FAO (Schwarz. The toy store I devoted three years of my life to. *Sigh* I'm nothing if not loyal.), when it was just Doug and me - he was GM and I was supervisor - we didn't have an assistant manager for the longest time. Oh, well, there were other supervisors...wait, no there weren't...not really. Em was there but she never took it seriously and it was partly TJ's fault, damn his eyes, and she always let him get away with shit which annoyed me beyond words; supervisors have certain responsibilities and aren't supposed to be like that!...Kirsten and Airika were only around for the morning weekday shifts (heavy emphasis on only)...Airika didn't even stay around long...and Erica had left...then Kirsten got into a tizzy with Doug and left as well... so yeah it was just me and Doug. Poor Doug. He never wanted to be GM but he had no choice but to step up as Tracey had gotten promoted. But I digress. When we started interviewing for an assistant manager, I half joked that I should interview for it. Doug said he'd give it to me in an instant (and Kristen, our District Manager, liked me enough) if only I wasn't in school. Undaunted by a 19-year-old assistant manager, Doug had a lot of faith in me. We worked very well together. I was essentially his unofficial assistant manager.

Well, the point of my rambling was that this is twice now that I would've been seriously considered for, if not given, a managerial position. If I could've been assistant manager while juggling full-time school, I would've leapt at the chance. I couldn't though, even if I was working almost 40 hours a week; because of my classes, I couldn't be as flexible as an assistant manager should be and that would've been unfair to FAO. And now...well, if I wasn't who I am, then I'd leap at the chance as well. But I am who I am and my future lies across the pond, not here (though I do love Seattle) in retail *slight shudder*.

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Spring is in the Air!

SO? It's still FREEZING outside! Literally! It was 3 below when I got home at 10. As of right now, 1:27 a.m., it is -5 degrees Celsius (that's 23 degrees Fahrenheit to all Fahrenheit people). That's cold.

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Shoes, Shoes, Shoes!

I'm obsessed. And frustrated. Do you realise how long I've been looking for the 'perfect' pair of wedges? I've finally narrowed it down to a particular style - peep-toe (sling-backs are okay) - and I. Can't. Find. It. I've scoured stores and stores and malls and malls...and I've only seen one pair that is even slightly close to what I want. It's at Kenzie and it's a sling-back. Why I haven't bought it and put an end to this misery? It's not a colour I want. They've got (boring) black, (yawn) camel and sea-foam green. Now, sea-foam green is a very, very pretty but it's not what I want. I want something that says BAM! Something like this one from Bettye Muller. Now THAT is what I'm talking about. Bright and bold, it makes a statement by itself. THAT is what I want. Unfortunately, that also happens to be $365 - 25% (remember, I hardly ever pay full price for anything). Wayyy out of my current budget. So I shall sit here and sigh wistfully and keep on searching...

Note: I've been looking for a pair of wedges since last summer. Yes, last summer.

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Crest Whitening Expressions Toothpaste

I've the Citrus flavour and it's gross. It tastes like nasty cough medicine, which I hate as much as onions. The name is misleading. You try it, thinking it's going to taste like oranges and BAM! it tastes like baking powder. Even though I'm allergic to mint, I'd still stick with mint flavoured toothpaste anyday. And Citrus doesn't leave a clean-feeling mouth behind, just a nasty aftertaste.

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I Am A Shoe Whore

Why do shoes have to please me so immensely? Why do they have to bring me so much pleasure and happiness?? Woe is me!

Ha. Most women are separated into two categories: shoe lovers or handbag lovers. She may love both a lot but she has a smidgen more love for one than the other. Anyways, bottomline is I fall into the shoe side. I love shoes. They're one of my most favourite material things, ranking up there with books, arts and craft supplies and makeup. But why? I really could do without this obsession. Why do I feel like I have to have a pair of lemon yellow, pointy-toed, kitten heel pumps when I already have a pair of pretty pink, pointy-toed, kitten heel slingbacks? And why do I want a pair of brown, round-toed, low or no heel, knee-high riding boots? ...Oh...well, because I don't have a pair of brown, round-toed, really comfortable boots. And I don't do calf or ankle boots. Ugh. Most of all, I want a pair of peep-toe wedges, perferrably in a bright, if not outrageous, colour like lime green, lemon yellow or teal. I haven't a pair of those and they'd be so perfect for spring and summer. Sigh. I did buy a pair of new shoes today. They're for work; I really needed a pair of super, duper comfortable shoes since I'm on my feet so much and these are so nice. They're comfortable, sleek, professional black but they pull off the casual look so well, too. They're from Aerosoles. Best of all, they were on sale. I never pay full price for anything. Even though I actually needed these shoes, I was so reluctant to buy them because they were so plain. Oh well. I really needed them and they'll last for a long time and they're totally suitable for wearing to the office. It's an investment.

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Ethiopian Food

They sure like using their spices! After snowboarding yesterday, we went out and had Ethiopian food in Seattle. Heather, just recently back from Guam, was able to come over this weekend (she lives on one of the islands nearby - I forget which one - so it's not very easy for her to get together with us). The food was really good. Spicy but really good. One of the dishes made everyone go 'ohmygod that's spicy' so I, of course, completely avoided it. It wasn't as good as the Iraqi food I had in Hull, but it was good. They also had FRESH mango fruit juice - yummy! Dinner was fun because it was family style; the dishes are on platters and everyone digs in with their fingers. The bread was different. It was unlike any bread I've ever known. It's unlevened but the texture is more along the lines of a pancake and it tasted sour like sourdough. Very different.

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Snowboarding

I am so sore. My arms and shoulders are killing me; I seriously need a massage! AH!! However, snowboarding was SO much fun! Driving up wasn't bad at all. The roads were completely dry and the sun was out all day (rare!); the only downside was high winds. Yeah, the winds were pretty strong and I could feel it shake the car as I was driving. The winds on the slopes weren't terribly nice either; they blew the powder all over and it would hit you in the face (it sure hit Ryan in the face). It also blew us over! We were on the slopes and I had just finally stood up with both boots in the board when the wind picked up and just knocked me over! Stupid wind!

The beginners lessons, full day rental and full day lift ticket package wasn't too bad. Our instructor - Brandon or Brannon, I never found out - was pretty cool. Our bunny slope - too short and too packed, meaning it was too slick and hard for our boards to dig into the snow - wasn't too cool. Of course, being beginners, we kept falling down. HARD. Can we say 'ouch'? Yes, we can. That's why I'm so sore and I've got big ass, purple bruises - 3cm in diameter! - on my shins. Thank goodness I've got junk in the trunk otherwise my ass would be all black and blue, too! However, after boarding all day yesterday, my ass sure did feel bruised whenever I sat down too hard on my right cheek. Ow.

Our lesson was 2 hours. Ryan and I just couldn't get our turns right so our instructor told us to take to the slopes and then come back to the bunny slope and practice again. So we did. My boots made me feel like Bigfoot and we found out that we can still kinda dance in them but we just couldn't get low. Oh well, it's not like I was gonna wear them to a club anyways. The lift was fun, if not a little scary. I have a very slight fear of heights and, granted, it wasn't as bad as when we went up the Eiffel Tower, it was still pretty high up and your feet - one foot strapped into the board - were just dangling in empty air and there wasn't that much seat space and nothing to really keep you in besides your common sense. The second time up wasn't bad and I managed not to fall when I slid off the lift. Go me.

The first time up, we stood at the top debating which slope to take down. The right side or the left side? We ended up choosing the left side (if you're facing the lift) because it looked the softest and smallest. We managed to tumble down the slope and it went something like this: stand up, sliiiiiiiiide for about 10 feet - like, 2 seconds - fall. Repeat all the way down the hill. At some points we managed to go further than 10 feet and to stop without falling. It was so much better than the bunny slope because up there, the snow was much softer, thus providing more cushion when we would fall. And since it was actual powder, not all packed down and slick, it was a lot easier to dig our boards into the snow and practice our moves. I managed to get both boots in on several occasions and slide down for a while until I fell. I had the worst problem trying to stand up again with both boots in, but I managed on the second run. It's so frustrating though and oftimes I just unlocked one boot and stood up that way. Much easier and much more graceful. Around 4 o'clock, hordes of children poured into The Summit. (We were in Snoqualmie.) These weren't the really cute kids that were taking lessons earlier; they were little kids. These kids were in the early teenage range and can be such pains in the ass. After our last run, we got some hot cocoa and left; the entire place was overrun by very loud, mostly obnoxious and rude children.

My inner snow bunny has been temporarily appeased. We go snowboarding again on the 19th and this time, Dem's coming! Yay! Hopefully Mike'll come as well so we'll be an even number when we go up the lift.

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The Hazard with MP3 Players...

...is that it makes me want to dance in public, which isn't really a problem most of the time except no one else can hear the music. So people just see a crazy girl dancing in public and they don't hear the music that accompanies said dance which would thus complete the picture. Another hazard is that I have a tendency to sing out loud along with my music. Now this isn't a problem if I'm in my car and there exists some sort of barrier between my singing and the rest of the world (not saying that my singing is bad. It's just not the status quo...which I like breaking anyways.) But with portable music, people like me who love singing whenever they hear music... Again, no one else is hearing the music... Alas, alas. Must subdue such reckless impulses.

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Swimsuit Season

It's that time of year again: time to start thinking about bikinis and other suitable forms of swimwear. You can tell by the ads that start popping up for swimsuits. Now, I have two swimsuits - one red bikini and one black & white one-piece - but looking at some of the designs out there makes me want to get a new one...a coloured print one! Oh dear. I don't need another suit though; my red one's good enough. But the other ones are so cute...

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My Heart Goes Out to a Marine

I don't like war. I don't like the Bush Administration. I don't like this whole Iraq mess. I don't have a yellow ribbon pin/sticker/whatever. However, I will support one particular Marine. He's someone I've known for years and I can safely say, and bet if I were a betting woman, that I know him better than anyone else in his life. He always gives and never asks for anything, but Lord knows he needs. He knows I'm there should he ever, ever need me because it'll be one of those very rare moments when he asks for anything and also because I promised him that. Russ, wherever you are in the hell hole, my prayers are with you.

...Not that he'd be reading this, but oh well.

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Why I Love Gay Guys

I do. They hold a special spot in my heart. They are the most accepting, open-minded, loving, crazy people I know and, bless their hearts, I love them for it. Alright, I do have several specific people in mind, but they know who they are. Love them as much as I do, I'm not blind to their faults; they can harbour the worst traits found in heterosexuals, too. However, they're unlike men and women and are a completely different species unto themselves. They accept you for who you are and they'll love you for it. They understand that just because it's different doesn't mean it's wrong; hell, they probably understand differences better than anyone. Some people don't. And if you're one of those people who think that something that is different from the way you're used to is wrong and not alright, then you do not deserve to be called 'openminded.' Period. End of story.

So, I love gay guys. Well, except that Fat Bitch from R Place. He was an exception and is one of the non-openminded people.

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49 Days

Not that I'm counting... :)

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Pink

Yes, I love pink. It's not my favourite colour (burgandy is) but I do love it nonetheless. I seem to be obsessed with it anyways, but I don't like bubblegum pink because it reminds me of bubblegum pink flavoured bubblegum, which I don't like. I only like grape flavoured bubblegum...and I haven't had bubblegum since middle school I think...I should go get some.

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I Love England and Bill Bryson is Priceless

He is, really. I just finally finished his book, Notes from a Small Island, and it was fantastic (yes, Nick, it took me that long to read it. I was distracted by my numerous romance novels that seem to take precedence over everything else...)! It really had me laughing out loud and as I was always reading it in public (on the bus, before class, when I should've been studying...), I bet people around me were quite intrigued and curious to find out why I was seriously laughing out loud. Or, they might've been thinking, 'Freaky brown people, laughing to themselves.' Anyways, it was great!! And I must quote something from it; at the end of the book, at the end of his journey, he has an epiphany as to why he loves England:

Suddenly, in the space of a moment, I realized what it was that I loved about Britain - which is to say, all of it. Every last bit of it, good and bad - Marmite, village fetes, country lanes, people saying 'mustn't grumble' and 'I'm terribly sorry but', people aplogizing tome when I conk them with a careless elbow, milk in bottles, beans on toast, haymaking in June, stinging nettles, seaside piers, hot-water bottles as a necessity, drizzly Sundays - every bit of it.

Gardeners' Question TimeWhat a wondrous place this was - crazy as fuck, of course, but adorable to the tiniest degree. What other country, after all, could possibly have come up with place names like Tooting Bec and Farleigh Wallop, or a game like cricket that goes on for three days and never seems to start? Who else would think it not the least odd to make their judges wear little mops on their heads, compel the Lord Chancellor to sit on something called the Woolsack, or take pride in a naval hero whose dying wish was to be kissed by a fellow named Hardy? ('Please, Hardy, full on the lips, with just a bit of tongue.') What other nation in the world could have given us William Shakespeare, pork pies, Christopher Wren, Windsor Great Park, the Open University,, and the chocolate digestive biscuit? None, of course.

The fact is that this is still the best place in the world for most things - to post a letter, go for a walk, watch television, buy a book, venture out for a drink, go to a museum, use the bank, get lost, seek help, or stand on a hillside and take in a view.

It's all true. I love that country.

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Just Call Me Ms FixIt

One of the things that annoy me the most in this entire world is not having the right tools to get a job done. One of the sockets was broken in my room and it short-circuited the entire room, causing much disruption and inconvenience (I couldn't turn on my computer, floor lamp, TV and video games!). I called Dem's dad because he, likes, knows everything, and asked him. Diagnosis: broken socket. GAH. He gave me a new one, bless him, and taught me how to replace the old one. It's very simple really - basic physics - and you know how I absolutely hate physics with my entire being (one of the few things I truly hate in this world. Another one is metallic ocher. I mean, what the hell were the colour people thinking?! Oh wait, they weren't thinking! HAH!) so if I could fix it, anyone could. Granted, I am a very logical and intelligent person. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that any logical and intelligent person, whether or not he/she harbours love/hate for physics, could fix a broken socket. All he/she has to do is remember to flip the switch for the particular broken room on the circuit breaker box thing (technical terms, those) so he/she doesn't fry him/herself. (Damn PC'ness; it makes everything sound wordy, though traditionally, I could've just used 'he' and 'himself'.) Anyways, I fixed it, my room is up and running again and I am a happy kitty.

So, returning to my rant... It took me bloody forever to fix that damn thing because we, for some damn reason, do not have a flathead screwdriver (another technical term) so I had to get all creative with out to unscrew them damn screws. Nails, fingers, metal mail opener were all called into help and finally, after about 30 freaking minutes, the damn socket was replaced and the power was back. GOD! If I had a proper screwdriver, it would've taken me 10 minutes to fix it. When I get my own place, I am SO buying a decent set of tools. ARGH!

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