BLoGGeR PaNDa

Sooo, looks like I did lose my guy to Halo 3.

Kidding.

Stuff happens. It needed to happen. Plus, I need a break from my serial monogamist ways. That stuff is exhausting. The fact that serious relationships are also a gamble doesn’t help either.. You invest so much into something that you can still lose in the end.

Anyways, I can’t believe there’s wildfire in Irvine. Sunday night I came home from work at 10pm and was on evacuation watch the rest of the night. And I had to go to work this morning despite of the smoke and ashes everywhere outside. We could smell it inside and our eyes were dry from it. My boss didn’t even show up but insisted that we continued working until we saw some fire. I think I’m not exaggerating when I say I have the meanest boss alive. I finally left at 2, cos I was going crazy calling the hotline to ask if my house needed to evacuate.

Last night the fire was visible from the major cross streets close to my house but I only have this picture my friend John took this morning:

My bro and I rent rooms at a 4-bedroom house, sharing it only with the owners (a thirthy-something couple) who are away every other weekend. Doesn’t sound so bad, right? However, I’m dying to have an apartment all to myself so I can invite people over or just chill outside of my bedroom, or most importantly, use the kitchen freely. (For you cynics out there, I actually do use the kitchen. Although mostly for the microwave. J/k.) I have kitchen privileges, but I can’t get over the awkwardness when I and my bro are in the middle of cooking strong-smelling Indo stuff and the owners get home carrying buttloads of groceries, obviously wanting to cook too. I also dislike it when sometimes they have people over on a Saturday morning and their noise wake me way earlier than what I prefer (which is 1 pm). (Note: I do remember saying sleep is useless, but that does not apply to Saturday mornings.)

So I may move soon. Right after I get a raise.

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See what I have to compete with here? And when he does put down his Wiimote or Xbox headset to eat:

…a crowd shows up miraculously.

At least the niece and pups don’t see me as a threat. That way I’m not banned from the house and still have a fighting chance.

This week though, there will be an additional contender called "Halo 3" which will take away the hopeless gamehead for at least a month. Good thing my old friends House, The Office, Ugly Betty, Grey’s, Housewives, and Brothers&Sisters will be back this week.

BeachPanda’s Wisdom Bits

Sleep is a waste of time. You could be doing other things such as shop online, watch Desperate Housewives, or eat many, many crackers.
This is why I’m sleep deprived and a caffeine addict.

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Random Pet Peeve

I’m tired of having to upload new pics to THREE different places: Facebook, Friendster, and MySpace! Why won’t everybody just use Facebook!! It’s ten times better anyway!

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Update

For those of you living in a cave or desert island these past 6 months, here’s what you missed. I didn’t get that work visa because a billion people tried out for it even if they didn’t really plan to work long or stay and get married and have kids and grandkids in the States. But of course they’re not the ones to blame, because the government should have given more thought to the quota problem. Apparently the USCIS spent a whole 2 and a half seconds thinking about it, because look at what they decided on: the lottery system. How very intelligently done.

Anyways, I’m looking into a green card process which I’m sure would take.. oh, about 5-10 years to complete. Sigh. Here we go again.

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My Angelina Jolie Lip

Sometime ago, one side of my upper lip was inflamed. (Possible culprit: one too many Flamin Hot Cheetos.)

Pic on the left was my normal side. Pic on the right was my Jolie side.

I thought I looked better inflamed. Don’t you agree? I should get collagen injections. Then I would look like this (the following is courtesy of Photoshop.. ignore the nose though, it got cut off and I’m too lazy to fix it):

On second thought.. I look downright scary.

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Oodles of Thought

After talking to various old friends, I’ve realized that the world has been moving at a lightning speed. And I was just.. sitting there on the sidewalk.. doing nothing but playing with my freshly picked booger. I mean, I might as well be doing that in real life. All I’ve done is waste time and energy worrying and sulking about a stupid visa. (Ok maybe it does qualify as a legitimate concern.)  I just wish I’d used the energy to better myself at what I do, or achieve some ridiculously high goal. Oh well. What’s past is past and I guess I just couldn’t help it. What’s now is now, though. I should start aiming for, like, the stars. I just hope I don’t lose steam mid-way, and fall back down to earth — unto that sidewalk with the booger smeared across it.

Oh by the way, great news from former PCC Mailroom Girls: one is getting hitched (HH), one finally got married (IL), and another (MJ) is preggers!!!! Oh my. Lightning speed.

Note to PCC Indos who are probably a little intrigued by the news:
The preggers mailrun girl IS Indo and presently lives in Indo. Once you figure out who that is, let me console you by saying I was also shocked to my core when she told me. BUT ONE THING….. don’t tell her I told you. Because technically I didn’t. : p

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This image combines the two things I hold dear: Norman Rockwell and my favoritest TV show ever.

Btw I created a group sometime ago for the latter on Friendster, and have left it alone all this time. I just went back to check, and it’s got 98 members. This proves a couple of things:
1. that I am DA BOMB
2. that people really like joining useless groups… and that I am DA BOMB.

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My company’s finally moved to our new corporate headquarters. "Extravagant" is really an understatement to describe this place. Check out the results of my moonlighting as an interior photographer on the right-hand side of this page (if you’re using Friendster) (Facebookers, you gotta go to the original post). The album’s called "Slave Labor, Inc"… my first name choice was "Hades".

The place is huuuge! (20,000 square ft!)  From the looks of things, my boss should be able to afford giving me a raise every other month.

The following is an excerpt of wisdom written by a 27-year-old Wall Street-turned-comedian, to the Class of 2007 grads. Take notes.

Your days of frat parties and Facebook are over, and your days
of martinis and MySpace are just beginning.  Here’s what you need to
know. 

-No matter what amount per month you were originally planning to spend on
rent, any apartment you actually like will always cost $200 more than that.

-No one in the “real world” has any clue what they’re talking about. 
Seriously, about 99.9% of people are talking completely out of their asses at
all times.  The successful ones are those that just fake it better than
others.

-The more hours your friends work, the more they’ll lie about how much they
love their job.

-Twenty-two-year-old girls and twenty-eight-year-old guys are roughly
equivalent in maturity level. 

-A college degree doesn’t carry as many expectations as it used to.  For
example, Bank of America’s CampusEdge Checking program offers free checking
while you’re a student for five years – ostensibly implying that most of us are
too stupid to graduate in four.

-If you plan to rage during the week like you used to in college, try to
remember that the people partying alongside you now are actors, comedians, and
the unemployed.  They don’t have to get up in the morning.  You’ll be
the one vomiting in the office bathroom then trying to play it off to your boss
by saying, “I’m fine… must have had a bad spreadsheet or something.”

-I believe that the transition from college to actual society takes about a
year.  The first six months are the hardest, at least until you stop
thinking your roommate is playing a prank on you every morning when your alarm
goes off at 7am for work.  The second six months, you start to get your
bearings – you figure out how often you can realistically rage and become
resigned to the fact that, in the real world, your monthly cable and Internet
bill will always cost way more than seems reasonable.  And by the time the
class above you graduates, and you realize in talking with them how much you’ve
learned over the past year, that’s when the transition is officially
complete.  So, Class of 2007, the clock is ticking.  Your one-year
grace period is about to begin.  Be dumb.  Waste money.  Slack off.  Have fun.  All the graduates that came before
you are watching.  Make us proud.

Prepare for a piece of my mind.

So, the illegal immigrants are taking to the streets demanding naturalization. Does that sound whack to you that they’re here illegally but still making demands to the very country whose rules they violated?

I’m mad.

‘Cause I play by the rules and I get shoved.

Ok I’m understanding the need for illegal workers to be legal (whatever FOR? they’re already here working anyway) so they can work the restaurants/fields/carwashes/etc (in a more fearless manner, I guess). I also get the fact that some of them are here for survival reasons. But is it fair to me and thousands others who’ve taken the legal path, throwing money left and right on student visas/work visas/immigration lawyers, if the government ends up paying more attention to the ones BREAKING the rules?

I’m not bitching about who’s more skillful/educated to deserve the citizenship, because the computer programmers and engineers and nurses/MDs would kick my sorry butt in terms of contributing to the country. My point is that the law-abiding boys and girls are getting sidelined.

I even feel cheated. Kinda like in school, when I played by the rules [read: keeping the friends code of loyalty] but the same didn’t happen to me and I took the fall, or when I didn’t play the dating game and still got my heart broken.

Nothing in this world is fair, but at least here in the U.S. of A we’re not so quick to be cheated of our rights. It’s good to know that I can sue for sexual harassment if a boss/coworker’s comment makes me feel uncomfortable. Or that if my house gets broken into, the security will be on MY side instead of collaborating with the thugs (trust me, the reverse situation has personally happened).

These rights to protection are what make petite, defenseless-looking women like me feel safe. I can take care of myself, but I need to be empowered by the law and to know that it really works.

When I recently consulted a law firm about possibly applying for asylum, they said angrily that I had no case, as I did not immediately pursue it when I first arrived in the States. Silly me, back then I thought I’d follow the safer/more guaranteed route of the J-1 (exchange student) to a F-1 (student visa) to a H1B (work visa) and finally Permanent Residence. Playing it safe and, again, by the rules.

Let me clarify that I’m not hating on illegal immigrants. I’m just disappointed that my honest efforts aren’t being honored – I’m being reduced to contend in a lottery system, and in the end maybe losing the job, the love, and the life I could’ve had.

::

What’s interesting about this magazine cover is that the silhouette was not computer-generated but rather a regular ol’ photograph. The Contents page says, “On the Cover: Photo by Brevin Blach. Model: April Vasquez.” I can picture [pun intended] this April girl being all excited, showing her family and friends that she made the cover of a magazine, but all of them are staring at the cover going, “Um, you look, uh, great…”

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Bro says my car would look better with black tail lights. Whatcha think?
Vote for:

A) Staying red.

OR:

B) Going black

These are trying times. First the gruesome week-long withdrawals from quitting coffee. Then this.

“150,000 applications for 65,000 H1B visas - that’s what the US immigration services received within the first few hours of opening petitions for H1B visas. Since the number of applications received was already more than double the limit, the US immigration service office has now stopped taking any more petitions for this visa…

The US immigration services says it will now use computers to randomly pick visa recipients from the applications recieved. It is the first time that a lottery system is being used to pick H1B candidates."

Double the quota in one day! Last year I believe the quota was reached in a month. Two years ago: 4 months. How un-shocking that this year became this way.

And then there’s the awesome lottery system. I have never won any type of random drawings in my life, so forgive me if I don’t like my chances. And this is not to RECEIVE the visa, but merely to get processed.

I don’t even have a plan for if my deepest fear came true. And that’s rare. I’m a person with plans. So I find myself a little distracted lately: missing freeway exits, leaving my cellphone at work, drooling… (last one’s untrue)

::

Somebody sent my office this delish bouquet from Edible Arrangements. I’d never heard of them before, but apparently they’re kinda popular. Good idea for Mothers Day (May 13th).

::

Already it’s been a month since I moved to the house my brother lives in. I get the bigger room, obviously. And because we have full use of the kitchen, we’ve been eating a lotta bakso (my specialty) and fried rice (my brother’s). We’ve also had a huge spat. Yes, already. My confrontation style (debating) bugs him and his (silent treatment) bugs me. I’m a blower-upper, he’s a clammer-upper — great recipe for healthy siblingship. NOT. I realize though when I’m stressed at work or about the visa or the masters application, I lash out on that poor boy. I really should work on being nice to him even though he lives in the World of Warcraft.

::

And a non-contender, Ringo. The only reason I’m on it is because, for some odd reason, it’s popular among PCC grads.

Ladies and gentlemen, the award goes to Facebook for letting us do SO MUCH and still keeping things under control. This is how a community website should be. The news feed, mini-feed, pokes, wall, My Mobile, My Events, and my favorite: the Friend Game.

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Watching the series House has helped my eating habit, believe it or not. When I’m munching on total junk, I get this vivid mental picture of my veiny, red heart beating really loud and then foam coming out of it. Or of some kind of ugly stone swimming along and then clogging my blood flow. Or of my brain getting electrocuted. Or of Sarcoidosis, Neurocystercercosis, or other really bad, smart-sounding disease names.
So my appetite for the family-size Cheetos pretty much goes away after all that.

::

A tip for Indo’s who plan to eat durians in the States:
Don’t crack open the fruit in someone else’s house — they will kill you. Or at your own house when you know guests are coming — they will shun you.

I still don’t get why the odor offends some people, who have described it as smelling like "garbage, moldy cheese, or rotting fish.” I’m proud to say my mouth still waters at the smell, no matter how Americanized I may be.

Anyhow, durians are banned from a lot of public places in Singapore:

*I stole the pic and quoted from Han Tan’s Facebook Notes.

Also, speaking of offensive smells, Americans do not appreciate mothballs either (English for “Kamper”). You know that scent coming out of your luggages when you unpack after your trip home to Indo? Yah, they hate that. So don’t even think about putting them kampers in your clothes drawers in your dorm room. My non-Indo roommates would’ve drop-kicked my Indo roommate if I hadn’t interceded.

::

Throwing birthday people into pools never gets old. Not even after college.
The distressed birthday girl — I crack up at how helpless she looks here:

I work at a fine art publishing company. I deal with artwork and the artists and their managers and sometimes galleries. To me, it is the coolest scenario. It’s like if you love sweets and you get to work at a candy store and you get to "sample" the products. Or, if you love computer games and you’re a game tester (this one I bet you boys relate to a lot better). At my job, I get to be one of the first ones to see the new artworks that come in (priced at 5 digits, sometimes 6), critique them silently (and outwardly only after boss gets done with his opinions, so as to avoid tiring debates with him if we disagree), and process them: photograph, photoshop, put on server, yadda yadda. I get to appreciate great art as I work; in fact, they ARE my work. I just love the way things happened in the end. (Well, if given the choice, I could really do without the long periods of joblessness.)

My job obligations include all sorts of true graphic design work too. My portfolio has been piling up intensively in just a little over 6 weeks now, with like, eight 28-page catalogs, posters, invitations, gift certificates, flyers, magazine ads, photo manipulation, chocolate box inserts… you name it. That is why my party life has been put on hold. And by "party" I mean "watching ‘Friends’ DVDs day-in and day-out." I miss that part of my life.

I still can’t believe these people actually trusted me enough to be their sole graphics person (minus web — they hired someone for that so that I don’t kill myself). Granted, this seemingly beautiful trust puts me in a bit of a situation where I can only have 3-minute lunches AT MY DESK so that people don’t freak when they need something done. I am entitled to normal lunch and two 15-minute breaks, though, so I can’t sue them (I read your mind, huh?) but when I do take breaks, the company may crumble to the ground. Ok that’s exagerration, but some days, it’s almost true. One time I was out of the office on an appointment and soon enough somebody calls me on my cell to ask what kind of paper to use for a project I printed that THEY MESSED UP, which got my boss so angry he threw the messed up prints at a wall. Mistakes happen, and tensions were high, but doood was I scared to leave the office by itself ever again.

The coworkers are awesome. The only person I would really have a problem with is actually an ancient artifact. A bit harsh, because she’s only in her MID EIGHTIES. Now we may think, as I did on my first day of work, that this lady is a sweet, fragile woman who likes to share wisdom and fond memories of the olden days. So we tend to like her by default, right? (Did I mention she uses a walker?) But a few days after my first day, I saw that she was occasionally NOT sweet, even if she was physically fragile, and that she’s actually rude to people, especially our gallery advisor who works directly with her and is the nicest guy on the face of the planet. I know this because my office is only an earshot away from hers. To paint a better picture, she is the female, human version of Cranky Kong (if you ever played Donkey Kong Country). She gives old women who live with cats a bad name. I wonder if I would turn into that 60 years from now… but nah, if I’m as sweet as I am right now, why would I be different when I’m old and have joint problems?

::

One night I went home and knew I was seriously tired because I tried to unlock the house door by repeatedly pressing on my car key’s unlock button.

::

A position as a full-time graphic designer at my church opened up a week ago and the Creative Arts pastor personally asked me to consider! I guess they REALLY liked the newsletter I designed for them few weeks back. About the offer, I told him no but that I’d help during the transition. What an idea: me being church staff. You probably think it would usher in judgment day a lot quicker. I agree with you. But of course I’m still basking in the honor of being wanted for the job, instead of my having to apply. If you or someone you know want to check out the position, e-mail me your resume and portfolio and I’ll forward them. Check out the church website to see if your design style matches theirs. I can tell you that you’ll love working at Newsong — it’s a huge multi-site church (we’re the Irvine site) with highly talented, servant-hearted members and staff. Sound sermons, great worship, and community. Congregation’s mostly young professionals and Asian Americans, but there’s much diversity and they’re very welcoming.

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Guys, beware of ordering through 1-800-flowers.com (what is that anyway? A website? Order-by-phone? How mysterious!)  Your order may arrive in an intricately tight-safe box that takes half-an-hour to rip open. And the flowers are actually buds that will bloom in 3-4 days ("that’s 3-4 days late for Valentine’s", says my irked boyfriend who’s planning to sue). I didn’t mind though, not a bit. They’ll last long, and of course, it’s the thought that counts. Only I don’t think I want them sent to my work next time… I get a little shy when that happens, especially when there’s only one other person in the office who received a dozen reds. Plus they give my boss more ammo to tease me. Speaking of which, surprisingly, he gave every employee tulips in pots. Even a meanie could get nice on Valentine’s Day!

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Would anyone like some fried brain this evening?
I got one, which I didn’t order. The one I had before had mushrooms on it — from lack of use. Give me 3 seconds to think which one I actually prefer.

Mushrooms. With mashed potatoes on the side. ( –> A reference to my couch potato days. Clever, huh.)

So my brain is pretty much over with, thanks to the greatest boss on earth (if he reads this, I’m through — Doubt it though, considering he doesn’t even know who Sheryl Crow is).

I am overworked and, internet-wise, under-privileged. Don’t email me if you want prompt reply; text me. Your email won’t be noticed until weekend comes around.

Vaguely remembering the words of my wise cousin, "Work Hard, Play Hard," I’m beginning to realize that I may be paying off the first part, since the latter part has been used up already.

What a luxury just to be able to have a date with myself. I missed me. Me looked gross for a while. As an example, for a whole week, the polish on all my nails was half peeled begging to be removed, but the most I was able to do was stare at them as I drove on my way to and back from work.
And don’t even get me started on my eyebrows and legs.

::

I’ve been itching to delete my Solara picture. I think my friends would protest and bomb my house, though. Look at their immense effort to generate the many comments that put me in the Most Discussed Photos arena, alongside pictures of booby tramps.

I’d wanna leave the photo up on my galery as a treasure forever, if not for some losers I don’t know who keep posting lame, immature comments such as "What the =bleep= are you doing in my car, b*tch" type of crap. Ooh, how completely phenomenal, let’s bow down to the genius who came up with that one. Sadly though, that is how a lot of adults act nowadays — just because they have no life, they think they can be mean to unsuspecting strangers, to appear slightly cool. (Btw, interesting side note and a little off-topic: not one of them had the guts to post a photo of themselves on their profile.) Even sadder is the fact that for some of them, that is their way of making friends.

So anyways, I think I’ll just keep deleting the mindless remarks instead of the picture. Because, even though my face looks bloated there, that pic is a memento of how my friends tease me mercilessly as a sign of love.

::

Eka stayed at my place this week and we ended up chatting with AnChan of Pennsylvania on webcam — which was SO FUN because it’s my first-ever webcam experience! Yes, I can be tech-challenged in some areas. (Don’t let my Adobe Suite sophistication fool you, dahlinks.)

Later on, us girls got to talking about our friends from junior high who are friggin’ married, and the many engagement occurences. Dang, I used to think that stuff was way down the line, but time zooms by and this thing is now staring me in the face! Either people need to slow down, or I’m wasting too much time. I guess the clock-ticking has begun. Welcome to the pressure cooker. (Soon enough I’ll be blogging about my childhood friends popping out babies. Great.)

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I admire these unnamed Photoshoppers.

http://www.photoshop-folio.com/baby/index.html

http://www.photoshop-folio.com/animals/index.html

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Does anyone else play Loco Roco on PSP? That stuff’s addictive! I love easy, childish games.

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ALL my favorite beauty products keep getting discontinued! Lotions, body sprays, lipgloss…. It’s like, if I like a product, I’m death-sentencing it. Not that I have poor taste; lotsa people compliment the things I use. So what’s the deal?! It’s annoying that I keep having to find new favorites, and then lose them, again. *Trying to cope with the tearful fact that I’m never ever gonna have a signature look/scent.*
(What, I can’t be dense and superficial?)

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The vacation before my slave labor began was filled with hanging out with people’s pets.

I contemplated on getting a bunny after playing with this furball. See the blue cast on his leg? Awww, a hurt bunny’s even cuter than a regular one.

.

Taka here (hmmm, name ridiculously similar to Jaka.. Coincidence? I think not!) belongs to Eka and her housemates. He chews on anything tangible, including gnawing off his own collar after collar. And my delicate skin.

Good thing he’s such a beautiful beast.

.

Simba needs no introduction.

.

Aaaand.. my future pet.

"Messages Hidden in Yuletide Carols" — article from Reuters:

Some of the best-loved English Christmas carols bear more than
tidings of comfort and joy, expert Ian Bradley believes. Some, he says,
could be coded calls to revolution.

Bradley said recent research suggested the much-sung carol, O Come,
All Ye Faithful, may have been written to rally to arms supporters of
18th-century Scottish Prince Charles, who led the Jacobite uprising
against the English.

Another favorite, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, was inspired, at
least in part, by the 1848 revolutions in France and Germany and
Chartist uprisings in Britain, said Bradley.

A third carol, Angels from the Realms of Glory, first appeared in a
radical English newspaper in 1816 and was written by James Montgomery,
a man jailed for supporting the storming of the Bastille during the
French Revolution.

::

Anyways, that was just a side thing. Sorry if I bore you non-historians. I know I almost fell asleep myself. Btw, speaking of Yuletide, Yul won the "Survivor"! If I had any celeb crush right now, it’d be him. Also, I was thinking, a million bucks is a lot to handle, especially when it comes with public expectations. When you get that kind of money on national TV, people who know you as well as random charity organizations expect a piece of that. By the time they get done with you, there’s probably not much left besides tax-deductibles. But I’m sure with Yul’s shrewdness he’ll make them his puppets and get his way in the end.

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My birthday was mind-blowing! I thought it was gonna be the lamest ever, since 24 is a really blah number, ya know. But nooo.

As you see in the above picture, I got a full set of Friends DVDs Seasons 1-10, which I’ve been wanting ever since the series wrapped, but always thought I’d buy it when I’m 40 and own a parrot and have nothing more important to get (DVDs aren’t that high on my priority list). Now it’s MINE and I can’t go to sleep without lovingly gazing at it!

Also, this came in the mail and I squealed for a good 5 minutes:

Brilliant, you guys (you farm people know who you are, I hope). I realize that it very much affirms my FOB status. It also fits the holiday colors. And totally feminizes my mean-machine Solara.

P, the guy responsible for the Friends gift, took me out and I got to put on some serious evening dress so we could chow.

This was my half-rack lamb entree. Fine cuisine these days really tries to present veggies in their natural forms, I’ve observed. I recommend Bistango (Irvine) for the food, modern-art ambiance, and the live music after 8.

My coolest SG ever, Popcorn, helped celebrate the big day. I’m getting flashbacks.

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It baffles me how the working class survives holiday season. Do they have time to even pick their nose? I don’t work or go to school but still haven’t had time to watch my Friends DVDs, no matter how hard I try! Ok so I may sleep a little too much (give or take 12 hours — that’s half of 24). But when I get up, I get so busy job hunting, apartment hunting, Christmas shopping, and getting back to my peeps whose calls/emails I’ve, er, missed. *If you’re one of them, trust me, you’re on my subconscious. Constantly yelling at me for procrastinating.*

::

Once upon a time,

A Korean boy and an Indonesian boy got into an argument about who can handle hot sauce better. A spice challenge ensued.

Each boy brought their own hot sauce (and more) and almost drank them if not for wise intervention. It was determined that they’d simultaneously chomp on a huge glob of hot sauce on tiny finger foods, slowly working from mildest up to strongest sauce. Without having a drop of water. He who gets water first, loses.

Champion was Indo boy (OBVIOUSLY). Korean boy declared, "I’ll be back with a vengeance!" as we await round two, which will happen once K-boy gets over his trauma.

This report was brought to you by a very biased source.

A weekend in San Diego and I MUST go back there again! There’s so much left to be gobbled up!
Visited Seaport Village and its quaint little stores. Went downtown to the famous Gaslamp Quarters which is basically a hub of restaurants, clubs, and.. more restaurants. I guess you just go for the "party" atmosphere. And people there are noticeably better looking, in addition to having more style. I don’t know why. Maybe they’re just tourists like me who dress up to pah-tay ‘cos it’s downtown San Diego, baby! The only difference is they put in immeasurable effort to look good, whereas I just throw on a little somethin’ and I’m smokin’ hot. *ROFL*

A brunch stop pre-San Diego was San Juan Capistrano’s Ramos House Cafe.
The restaurant is in an area with an old town feel, which usually grosses me out because I think of rust, shrubbery (with bugs/snakes/ who-knows-what living underneath it), moth-eaten planks, and cattles making schtinky "deposits" everywhere. But this particular countryside adventure turned out quite ok.
They restored this house (made in 1881 - practically prehistoric) and turned it into a restaurant, in which the owner lives and works. The wines are kept in the cellar, herbs are grown in the garden, ice cream is turned out back, and everything is made from scratch. Food was delicious, mm-mmm.

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Last weekend’s Lexus event verdict: Lexus kicks butt. I like to call it elegant power. Elegant cos it’s luxe, but also powerful cos it got me driving like a stunt woman. I drove all models (fave is still the SC) except for the SUVs, obviously, and I liked them all. The IS is so cute — it’s like a car version of me! Too bad we didn’t get to test but only watch the LS doing its magical parallel parking thingy.
People hated going after my turn because I always adjusted the seat to be like 5" away from the wheel.
Driving experience aside, the whole tent showroom thing was awesome too: food and drink and even free dermatology consultation & samples.

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Last Wii’k was crazy for two reasons. (Did you catch that reference? Nice huh?) I don’t have to state what two reasons  because you might already know some gamer who’d lost a couple, if not several more, good night’s sleep. Understandable though, I just played tennis on Wii and it’s totally worth the camping out. Well, someone else camped out but lucky Steph reaps benefits also. What’s not so understandable is the PS3’s going for $2000+ on eBay, or paying people hundreds of dollars for their spot in line.
This online ad may tell the story a little better, of how the geeks-gone-mad phenomenon is like:

"SONY PS3 PLAYSTATION 3 CAMPER WANTED, PAID IN CASH - $200

IF SOMEONE IS WILLING TO CAMP OUT FOR ME IN FRONT OF A STORE IN ORDER FOR ME TO BUY THE NEW PS3 I WILL PAY THEM BECAUSE I HAVE SCHOOL I DON’T HAVE TIME TO BE THERE, I WOULD BE BACK ON THURSDAY NIGHT AT 10PM, OR YOU YOU CAN WAIT TILL THE FOLLOWING MORNING FOR AN EXTRA 50 BUCKS. PLEASE LET ME KNOW, YOU CHOOSE THE STORE, I BUY THE SPOT FROM YOU, THANKS!! CALL ME ANYTIME!!"

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I’ve been coughing for a while now. I wonder if the rumor that tea really neutralizes medicines is true. Is milk also bad? What about chocolate-covered caramel & cream peanut butter bars? (Ok the last one I actually know the answer to.)

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I’m polishing up my pool skills (the billiards kind, not swimming). Combined with a wifebeater top and a Corona, I’ll soon look pretty tough.
Speaking of sports, playing tennis and golf on the Wii may constitute for the real things, since they require the same movements/posture (kind of).
The pro and con: I get to skip the nasty farmer’s tan (pro) but running around the tennis court is also taken out (con).

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Can you spot the frickin huge error on the above ad? It’s pretty easy!
Advertisers nowadays just don’t care anymore, do they? Spell-checking a 3-word ad is sooo time-consuming!
This is how I feel about it: