Make Out Room Show

The show was great fun. Drinking two drinks during a half hour set seems to work out great. I forgot to play on one of the songs, slipped and fell on the dance floor while trying to show off my running man skillz to my friend, lost the Communicator my friend generously bequeathed to me, and I woke up this morning with my pajamas inside out.

Creepy Morons

I've been walking around the city more for exercise, exposing myself to retards. Why do creepy dudes cat call girls? I mean, I guess I know why but it's really fucking rude. Every time it happens I want to yell, "Go lick your momma's cunt, asshole!" or something.

Just this week I've been gotten, "Oooh, me love you long time!" "Hello my Asian sister, you're looking beautiful tonight," and "Oh, hello there beautiful (up and downy stare)." Last night on my truncated walk home from Latin America Club, a group of guys wanted me to hi-five them. I was working a good buzz at this point and sassily (is that a word?) yelled back, NO. They're all like, "awww, c'mon, why not?" I responded, "I don't know you, so you don't deserve it!" Then they called me an asshole and a bitch, and I told them to fuck off. That's when I decided to end my walk and take a cab home.

I suppose it wouldn't be so gross if they were all hot guys, but even so it's still pretty rude and I'd probably grumble under my breath, "date rape face dicks." Okay, I think I'm done ranting about this one.

Auntie Cho in da House!

I've had 8 hours of sleep since Monday. Driving back and forth from San Pee to Walnut Poop has been tiring, and a little scary at 3 am (I think about the Zodiac killer a lot). Mom and dad called EVERY goddamn fucking hour even during the wee hours of the morning. Mom gave plenty of mom-like advice in the style of traditional Korean tips, driving us all nutzoid.

But I gotta say, my sister is one goddamn fucking bad-ass trooper. And I suppose her hubby is too :).

I've had little experience with kids, at times calling them names like, "ugly," and "bug-shaped." But I've replaced those negative asshole-isms with more positive words like "cutie," "fart" and "burrito." I think I'm gonna be a pretty rad auntie. Actually, maybe not. My only role model is my mom's sister, who made me call her "princess" in Korean, would steal my stuffed animals, and called me "window nose." It'll be all good though, I turned out great, right? Anywhooo, little Benjamin (NOT Benji) is gonna have one hell of a time growing up and I can't wait.

The Plan

I recently had a conversation where I learned about the mandatory volunteer programs that Obama and Emanuel have proposed. Obama proposes that junior high kids do 50 hours of community service in a year and high school kids do 100 hours. This shouldn't be a big deal because most of us have already had to do community service through school - I volunteered at a library! Emanuel proposes young adults from 18 - 25 to complete three months of civilian service where they would learn the basics in emergency situations, like how to evacuate people, what to do if a levee breaks, what to do in the event of a biochemical or nuclear attack... things I'd like to know now, actually. There's also the idea, which passed before Obama was elected, to allow the option for federally approved volunteering to cut student school loans if they have difficulty paying them off.

In the heat of this exciting conversation extreme words were used, which made me really curious as to what the hell all this volunteer crap was all about. My side of the conversation went like, "uhhhh, really? I don't know, that doesn't seem legal...hmmmm, der der der." So with a little bit of googling (that's right, I didn't capitalize "google," should I?) I found the answers I was looking for.

Now. What was I thinking about before all this? Oh yeah, I hope we kick the pants off of North Korea, or that Kim Jong Ill (I looked like him when I was a baby) dies. And over in Iran. My heart goes out to the protesters and to Neda's memory. Dear Khomeini and Ahmadinejad, I don't see you winning this one.

And because I love ending things with "In conclusion," In conclusion, I hope the world doesn't explode from all our explosives or implode from all our crazy-dummy heads.

Here's a picture of my brother in law with his new baby to end on a lighter note. He's eight pounds three ounces. Poor mom was in labor for 72 hours getting this little rascal out!

Grueling Weekend

I started exercising because I'm unemployed this summer and have nothing better to do besides "work[ing] on my fitness" (thank you, Fergie, for such poetic lyrics in your shitty band). I recently learned I can go a full hour on the elliptical without stopping, falling or barfing. So I thought, "hey, it's Sunday and the gym will be packed but I really should work off that half of a roasted chicken with french fries I ate the night before" - apparently the chicken had like 1,100 calories...oops!" So I went for a jog around the Panhandle. Turns out, my body doesn't like real exercising. I came close to barfing, my knees got all rickety and I went out of breath about every other block.

Bando started recording and it's my first time in a recording studio where I play on more than two songs. It's really hard. By the end of last night I wanted to drink some gasoline, barf it on to my viola, and light it on fire with one of those kitschy giant matches you find at Bed Bath and Beyond. A wave of defeat overcame me as I put intonation markers on the fingerboard - similar to frets on a guitar. If every joke has a layer of truth then I understand all those viola jokes:

What's the difference between a viola and an onion?

- You don't cry when you cut up a viola

How can you tell when a viola is out of tune?

- The bow is moving

Why don't violists play hide and seek?

- Because no one will look for them

Mysteries of Poo

So I ate pretty normally the other day - toast, fully cooked egg, fish sticks, strawberries and a plate of buffalo wings with a salad. So how come my poo went from good start to bad, soft serve end? I even had some residual bad poo the following morning! And why does my compy keep underlining poo as a spelling error?! Damnit.

WTF

Things outside my apartment door:

Thanks to the neighbor or building worker who decided that adorning my doorstep with a toilet lid would be a good idea.