the disgruntled world of ________ !

i’m going to write a stream of consciousness for about a minute and then i have to leave for class. the weather has been cold, however, i like the cold. i’ve been trying my hand at online dating and thus far have met a couple hits and misses. one, though, has been see-sawing with my emotions. he is physically and mentally the perfect type for me. rugged. white. sarcastic. the problem is that he has 2 kids. i’m not really into the whole insta-family thing, but he is pretty hot. i’m so damn superficial. i hate myself sometimes. anyways, he reminds me of a young Tom Brady and if you know how hot Tom Brady is…you would understand my plight. he has a job, too. he’s a video game tester for disney. how adorable!! a young Tom Brady playing Lilo and Stitch’s Magical Adventure all day. yummy. anyways, my minute is almost gone. peace out. 

So I am in Honolulu…waiting patiently (approx. 3 1/2 hours) to board. Though, I should explain the events that brought me here. Unfortunately, I had to go through Majuro. It sucked. We had to stay in the plane while they run their “inspection”. This wouldn’t be that bad, except for the fact that my fellow passengers and I had to endure the horrendous smells that penetrated the doors of the lavatories.

The stench reminded me of bean farts and insect repellent. The seat that I had was defective, but the flight was overbooked and I had nowhere else to sit. So for 4 hours I had to experience ass-numbing pain brought by the sharp poking of an exposed metal rod. I wanted to shot myself in the face, just so I wouldn’t have to think about the idea that my ass may never feel good ever again.

Anyways, I bear through the pain.

Flashback to before my “adventure” began (location – Guam International Airport): “You’re only giving me a boarding pass to Honolulu?” I asked. The Chuukese ticket agent looked at me and said, “Sorry ma’am, but it says that you’re on standby in Honolulu.” I start to tense and the anger seems to be making its way through my flaring nostrils. “What do you mean STANDBY? I paid for the fucking ticket in advance…online,” I said as I crumple my boarding pass to Honolulu. The Chuukese man looked confused.

“Whatever…so what am I supposed to do now,” I asked. “Well, ma’am it says you have to go to Delta and check-in.” I’m already annoyed, so I atan baba him and check-in my shit. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I hate the C-T-C’s. My parents and I then proceed to Cap for a family dinner.

Flash forward to the Delta Counter:

I grab my luggage. I go through customs. I re-check my luggage. I get my boarding pass. I wait a while to board my LA flight.

EDIT: (Currently in LAX waiting for my Lolo to pick me up)

The flight was fine. No one sat next to me so I had some breathing room. I thought…okay…things are looking up. I arrive at 6:30 am and grab my luggage. I made plans prior for my cousin to pick me up but he is nowhere to be found. Oh, I forgot to mention…I left my cell phone on Guam, so I have no way of contacting anyone except via dirty ass payphones.

I wait and call my mom, who lectures me about forgetting my cell phone at home. She calls my aunt, who doesn’t pick up, and leaves her 6 messages. She calls my cousin and leaves him messages. Two hours fly by and a homeless man offers me a bite of his sandwich.

I struggle to remember my Lolo’s phone number. I finally remember. I call and now they (my Lolo and Lola) are on their way to pick me up. It’s now 10:00 am. I’m going to kill my cousin. He does not get a bag of Chamorro Chip cookies.

EDIT II:

I’m home now. It is approx. 11 am. I hate my cousin.

Let’s tally the length of my trip:

Guam Airport (2 hours)
Flight to Majuro (4 hours)
Waiting time in Majuro (2 hours)
Flight to Honolulu (4 1/2 hours)
Customs (1/2 hour)
Delta Check-In (1 hour)
Waiting at the Honolulu Airport (3 1/2 hours)
Flight to LA (5 1/2 hours)
Waiting for my Cousin (3 1/2 hours)
Waiting for my Lolo (1 hour)
Ride home (30 minutes)

Total of 28 hours

so i’m sitting by my parent’s pool stealing my neighbor’s wifi and watching my mom’s dog vomit on the lawn. i think he ate something that causes doggy bulimia. i think she’s not “sick” per se…i think that “Holly” has self-esteem problems and probably thinks she’s fat.

i am currently trying to counsel my mom’s half boonie/half corgie puppy. my dad is telling me to swim at night because it’s better. i look at him and ask, “why did you blame me for losing the house alarm remote”. He just laughs and walks into the house.

Whoops…now my dog is licking her woman spot. GROSS!!!

So we made cupcakes. Cheryl and I created red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. I put way too much water into the mix, so it’s not that great. Though, Cheryl’s cream cheese frosting concoction is dream-like. She’s a good baker. We should open up a bakery/ESL school. It would kick ass.

Char and I swam and ended up with blue shit all over our bodies. It looked like we raped and pillaged a Smurf village (that rhymed). Cheryl is scared of the water and refused to swim. I’m not sure why…she doesn’t have her period.

Moving on, the wonderful Hitosis sisters brought over some delicious food. I LOVE Casava cake. YUM YUM!!!

I’m a fat ass.

My new years resolution: Stop eating like an Obese Family of Four!!

I HEART ROCKBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Theres a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me

- Sweet Baby James

Dark and silent last night
I think I might have heard the highway calling
Geese in flight and dogs that bite
Signs that might be omens say I going, going
Im goin to carolina in my mind

- Carolina in my mind

Been walking my mind to an easy time my back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it’ll turn your head around
Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things
to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

- Fire and Rain

James is always singing about his mortality and with this new year at hand…I guess it’s a topic that is on my mind as well. I’m 25 years old and Lord knows that I am NOT getting any younger, despite my whimsical disposition.

I am on Guam. My New Years was spent in a bright green Paul Frank whale pajama bottom and a touristy England t-shirt (not of the baby tee variety). My dad bought about $100 dollars worth of firecrackers and sparklers for 3 people. That was ridiculous! I asked him if the illegal store that sold it to him had a return policy. He told me to clean the pool. I cleaned the pool while holding 50 sparklers in one hand and the pool vaccuum in the other. The time was 12:30 am. Our house clocks are advance, so we technically missed the countdown. Stupid clocks.

We ate Arroz Caldo, Fried Tofu, and Vegetable Lumpia. I was still hungry. To me that meal seemed like a large appetizer.

My dad and I watched “I am Legend”. I am so irritated with the fuckin locals (i.e. the Cs, Ts, and Cs again – ask me what it stands for…I don’t want to be an online bigot like a friend of mine with Buddy Holly glasses). They came in and out DURING the movie. A man was talking on his cellphone DURING the movie. A family of four were asking each other for more hot sauce (for their smuggled Taco Bell food stuff) DURING the movie. I pay an exorbant amount of money to be disturbed DURING a movie!?!

I talked to the manager and he was like…”Well, they’re paying customers too. Sorry. There’s nothing I can do about it.” What the fuck!!!!! My dad was antsy to go, so the manager should thank my dad b/c I would have socked him in the face with my bag of groceries (yes, we brought our groceries into the movie theatre).

I ate 12 grapes. I drank a bottle of corona. I jumped. I laughed. I cried. I tried to kill a brigade of ants trying to fuck up my computer. I refuse to wear pants. Happy New Year to me!

This past year was insane. I mean in-fucking-sane.

I had to do a ton of rewrites only to be plagued with the difficulty of starting over.
Mike and I broke up.
I did some traveling both for work (NYC) and pleasure (Chi-town, Mexico, Las Vegas).
I gained a lot of weight (20 pounds) and tried to lose some of it (5 pounds).
I bought this diet pill that makes me fart oil.
My friends and I were kidnapped and almost raped in Cabo San Lucas (the picture below was taken before we realized this). Luckily, he brought us close enough for us to jump out of the moving boat. It was intense.
My summer was INSANE (so many things happened). Just an example, my friend and I almost died while riding with a drug dealer at a PCH intersection.
I am in a master’s program that is currently kicking my ass.
I have successfully and not successfully counseled people.
I saved approx. 168 students from potentially being molested from a potential child molester and confirmed coke addict who you may catch on an episode of “Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”

There’s a lot more, but I can’t think of what. I’ll just update later.

so i hate blogging…because blogging (to me) indicates a lot of un-utilized free time. however, since i currently have a shitload i will proceed to write.

this blog is dedicated to my hatred for Guam mosquitoes. i’m pretty sure they picked me because my blood tastes of sweet, sweet nectar. i bought 2 effin bottles of insect repellent, yet i think majority are immune.

my fucking legs look diseased. i look like a fat 25 year old with chicken pox and bangs. my touchable silky legs are a thing of the past (approx. 4 days). i want to kill them all…i see no environmental purpose for mosquitoes to continue living on this earth. they tranfer diseases, such as malaria, dengue fever, and other really bad stuff.

at this point of my vacation, i hate mosquitoes more than my mom’s devil dashund wannabe.

anyways, i still love guam…yada yada yada…..

DAMNIT FUCKING SHIT BALLS CUM FACE….another mosquitoe just bit me as i am writing this. unfortunately, i am outside stealing my neighbor’s wifi.

what i’ve done/eaten so far:

jamaican grill – twice
capriciossa – once
ajiichi – once
buffets – twice
mermaid’s tavern – once

drove to blockbuster – twice
payless dededo – twice
church – twice
cleaning the pool – three times
sex shop visits – six times
wore my silver leather boots – four times (in public) nine times (in private)
walking around tumon in my silver leather boots – once
hung out and chatted with my friends – six times (about the same amount of times i went to the tumon sex shops)

so my friends cheryl “moneybags” dumptruck and char are back, so im sure i will be wearing my boots a couple more times and we will be adding more visits to the above restaurants.

I suppose I should write something cathartic…something emotionally purging. I suppose I should get out of my woe-is-me funk. I suppose I should actually start the healing process, rather than continue to buy alcohol from a beverage warehouse (Thank you BevMo). I suppose.

Anyways, the way that everything went down was not as bad as I thought it would be. We sat in my room with a bottle of Tequila (Sauza) and started talking about where things went wrong. Then, we realized that wasn’t getting us anywhere…we both had different perspectives. So, we decided to reminisce about the beginnning. I think that’s usually the way it goes…whenever you are faced with the end…you start to think of the beginning. I think it’s because the beginning was so fresh and doe-eyed. I think it’s because the beginning meant promise and assurance of good times ahead.

Then, as time progresses, the beginning meets the murky gray middle and the middle is faced with some challenging hurdles. Despite, the path’s decaying “yellow brick road”…the journey itself is coupled with amazing moments of clarity and sheer happiness. As we walked that path together, we realized that we’ve come to an end. We’ve passed all our crossroads…we have gone through the detours…and now…we have come to the end.

I have seen the end and it comes in many forms…an empty room…a box of junk…an empty bottle…and dark shadows that mimicked the familiar. I sit in my room…not needing comfort…not needing words of encouragement…just wanting silence. I want complete and utter silence…because with silence comes no expectations…no arguments…no accountability…nothing. I am forced to process everything…I’m given the opportunity to cry without judgement…to curse without shame…to live without remorse.

I take a couple days off of work. I let the sadness and sorrow set in. I try to heal and purge and purge and heal. I numb the pain with alcohol. I get sick. I get tired. I feel defeated…not by the situation…but by my body. Then…as if reaching the apex of thought…I realized that I can’t force someone to be the person I need them to be…it’s either they are or they aren’t. It’s actually really simple. I realized that no one was really to blame for the dissolution of our relationship. Did we not try hard enough to salvage our relationship? Maybe. Do we regret our decision? Maybe. Are we going to be alright? Yes…I truly believe that we will be alright.

It’s time for a new beginning. It’s time to face life without apprehension. It’s time to live each day like it was my last. It’s time to listen to my own voice and see things through my own eyes.

I’m not looking for a happy ending. I’m just looking for a resolution.

So here I am…at a crossroads. I’ve made a decision. I am sick and tired of his shit. I am angry that he doesn’t take the initiative to become the person I know he could be. He is a selfish bastard. The only thing that has kept me by his side is his passion, his boyish good looks, and his humor. On the other hand, there are aspects of him that keep me at a distance…such as his selfishness, his cockiness, and his blatant refusal to grow up.

I’m not looking for the perfect guy. Actually, I am.

However, I am looking for the guy perfect for me. I really don’t think he is anymore. At first, I thought…maybe. At first, I thought…finally. It all leads back to the one guy that really encompasses everything I look for…unfortunately, we are just friends now. That’s life.

I guess I won’t have that happy ending after all…but at least I found a resolution.

bye…you RAT BASTARD!

In a nutshell (a tiny, booger-infested, suffocating nutshell), I taught kindergarten. I substituted for a friend, despite my better judgement. I knew that teaching kindergarten was hell on earth…and she taught in Inglewood (drinking 40s, smoking blunts, and stabbing people with broken shards of glass is pretty much the norm), otherwise known as Downtown Shadyville. The school/kindergarten I taught at was called “Downtown Value”…doesn’t that sound like a hardware store or something?

I, as you know, am a short, chubby, Asian girl with glasses. I am not scary. I am not in-your-face with the ghetto fabulousness. These areas do not scare me. I don’t give a shit about the “Dangerous Minds” type of students that often give me the evil eye or tell me that they want “2 choice – orange chicken and sweet and sour pork”. Whenever I teach high schoolers, it is business as usual. Normally, I would casually show them the middle finger and walk away…often times after I spray them with Mace.

On the other hand, I cannot (legally) spray 4 yr. olds with Mace or show them the middle finger. I’m not allowed to slap a ho or kick a dick. I’m contractually obligated to mind my Ps and Qs. Also, I have never, ever taught kindergarten before. Hell, I don’t even like to babysit anyone younger than 17.

So I wake up at the butt-crack of dawn (5:00am) and get ready. Class starts at 7:30am. I find the school fairly easily (I just followed the sounds of gunshots and crying babies) and park my car. The school is situated underneath a freeway overpass and two miles west of Skid Row. I cringe. I park my car and lock it. I walk two blocks and rush back to my car to make sure I locked it. I walk away and pray that my hubcaps will still be there when I return. I pray that my car will still be there when I return.

I walk to the school and in 5 minutes am surrounded by really, really ugly kids running around the yard. Okay…they weren’t all ugly…just the majority. I hear screams and parents yelling for their kids to “shut the fuck up! Or they’ll get it at home”. I hear my stomach gurgling. I hear the crows cawing and death breathing down my neck.

I head over to the classroom and shake my head as I see red paint (or blood) smeared all over the walls. I smell glue, cheetos, and bug spray. I sit down and wait. I felt like a gladiator waiting to enter the lion’s den. I see a rush of rugrats racing into the classroom like a stampede of diseased cattle.

My knees shake. I introduce myself. The kids introduce themselves (tongue showing, middle finger waving, paper ball throwing). I start the lesson. They ignore me. The day progresses and everything is a blur. The only thing I remember is walking out of the building after school is dismissed and smiling as I felt the sun shine upon my face. I also remember some kids eating wood chips, stealing gold fish crackers, peeing on themselves, pooing on themselves, biting each other, and narking on each other. I do NOT want to have kids.

I will adopt the 17 1/2 yr. old Italian boy of my dreams. Anyways, kindergarten is like a bad prison movie. I was scared, tortured, and ridiculed. On the bright side, my car was not stolen and my hubcaps were intact.

I can pretty much say without hyperbole…that kindergarten is hell…absolute hell.

So, I was tricked, rather forced into updating my blogs. WTF!!! I’m the laziest person alive and I’m blogging. I would much rather use my time sleeping or eating…or both. I mean…just today I thought that I should give my dog a bath…but decided to Febreeze him instead. Also, I thought…hmmmm…my dog’s crying….I bet he’s hungry…so I throw him a bag of BBQ chips and wish him luck in opening it. Plain and simple…I am lazy.

Now, I must stay on track and talk about Chi-Town. My flight going there sucked and wasnt that great. I couldn’t sleep, which sucked because I was on a red-eye. I arrived and soon felt the cold Chicago air piercing my face with its sharp pricks. All I kept thinking was…”Damn that Cheryl…this is not ‘Shorts’ weather.” Then, I waited for her…and talked to a woman who thought I was a runaway/migrant worker.

Soon, I see Cheryl and her Rolls-Royce. It was amazing. She brought me some food…which was awesome. We went to her apt. and I met her roomie, Emmy. She was very, very nice and made me some Korean coffee. Cheryl’s apt was super cute (Emmy keeps it clean…with no help from pigsty Cheryl i’m sure) and her room was also relatively cute…in a please-clean-me kinda way. Cheryl did inform me that she cleaned before I came. I surveyed her room and saw her neatly stacked paper piles presed against the wall and gum wrappers spread on the floor like petals on the ground. It was like the Ritz-Carlton, only without the swimming pool. I pretty much spent the day eating (the Deep Dish Pizza was awesome) and hanging with the Hitosis clan.

Afterwards, I met her friends at a bar and we went to another bar and some dude bought me beer. Though taken, I still have game.

Before I proceed, Cheryl was kind enough to take an obscene amount of photos of me. It was great. I was loving it. I mean…my mom needs more pictures of me to add onto her Jean Shrine.

The next day, we went to the Field Museum, the Hancock Observatory, and then we ate at White Castle. We also saw the Magnificent Mile, the big ass Bean, some buildings, some fountains, and a shit-load of parks. We took a lot of pictures…especially at the Observatory…because they had some kick ass props.

Oh, I almost forgot, Cheryl is a speed-walking, bus-hopping sociopath. Despite my pleas, she left me broken and alone on the streets of Chicago. Not to mention, her ass got us lost….that bastard!!!!!!!

White Castle was awesome.

We ate too much and smelled like burger farts afterwards. We also rented a Gay Chinese boy movie at Blockbuster. Cheryl’s choice. It was a toss-up b/w that or the “Weeping Camels”. I think Cheryl’s roomie thinks we are seriously disturbed people.

The next day, we went to the Shedd Aquarium and the Adler Planetarium. I loved the Shedd. It was awesome. I felt like I was the host of some sort of Discovery channel show. I talked to people and taught them about the poison frogs of the Amazon and about the Coral Reef and ways to protect it from predators. I should work there. Cheryl made all the lizards sad. I’m not sure how. It’s her rain cloud. I’m pretty sure the lethargic Komodo Dragon was a bit more lively and ferocious…and then we came…and it looked dead.

I had diarrhea at the Shedd. Moving on, I had a breathing contest with some random dude who dared to challenge me. He lost. What a pussy! I took mad pictures here. They had no props, but they had a ton of turtles. I took like 200 pictures here and Cheryl had like 2.

I fell asleep at the Planetarium. So did Cheryl. I snored and woke myself up. People were staring at me…so of course I placed the blame on Cheryl and told her to wake up. We were watching some Big Bang thing. I think I was tuckered out because some guy earlier farted on us while we were watching some Native American slideshow. I was uber, uber tired.

We left the Adler and ventured back. Her friend, Jessica, was waiting for us by the stoop. We ate a a Thai place (good Pad Thai) and had some coffee and gelato. We were trying to pop Cheryl’s back knotts, but that wasn’t happening. It looked like we were trying to publicly kill her. On our way back to the car, I saw a sign for a prom. Of course, being who I am, I decided to crash it. I went in pretending to look for my friend Margaret Cho. She was nowhere to be found.

I danced a little and voted for Prom King and Queen. Then we left. I wish I had a prom dress. It would have been magic.

We left and picked up Cheryl’s friend Char. She was cool. We went to a Karaoke bar. Cheryl and I dominated the microphone. I love rapping. It’s so fun. Our scores were high. Was there any doubt? We were classically trained by Mrs. Labrando.

It was a fun night. We ended up going back to the bar, so we can see that cute guy one more time. Cheryl got his name. Success. The balding dude wanted to buy me a beer…but we were leaving…so I asked for the money. He laughed. I didnt.

Cheryl was a drunk driver. She basically put my life in danger more than once. Selfish asshole.

The next day, we sped through the Musuem of Science and Industry. I would’ve liked to stay longer, but we were on a mission. We needed to go to a wedding. Oh, and Cheryl got us lost. You really wouldn’t think that she lived in Chicago. Just kidding. Anyways, we got lost. It was cool though…we had sushi afterwards and I got a free kid scoop from Oberweis. It was gooooood. We went to the wedding reception.It was open bar, which was good. I was pretty much the only non-Korean there. The steak was awesome. It was especially fun to see Cheryl squirm and be all paranoid crazy.

We ended up leaving early and I flirted with the Valet guy. Geez, Chicago has a lot of available men. Anyways, we head over to Eric’s house. He has a nice house. He loves food. He suggested that we eat at Susies. I’m glad we did. The cheese fries were amazing.

I had to wake up freaking early. I like how Cheryl’s alarm did not go off. Luckily, I set mine. The plane ride was uncomfortable and someone had a hear attack mid air, but seemed to be recovering well upon touchdown.

All in all, I had a ton of fun on my trip. I really should thank Cheryl, her patience and her bed.

Pretty much this was an unfinised blog with a catchy title.

The title explains horrifying moments of my past…seeing things that only appear in nightmares.

For the sake of human decency, I will not post pictures. So, I went to Barstow last year aka “The Armpit of California” and stayed at my friend’s house. She gave me the Barstow Tour, which consisted of checking out the Del Taco, visiting an abandoned nuclear testing site, watching a movie at the Drive-In, and hanging out at Rubys. This is not Ruby’s the burger joint…this is Ruby’s the homeless people dancery.

I’m not trying to be an ass or insensitive to our homeless population, but this place is literally a homeless people dancery. Anyways, I walked in (no cover of course) and took in the sights (homeless woman breastfeeding) and the smells (urine, blood, and cheese). I poked my friend and pointed at the woman on the dance floor. She was grinding and bobbing to 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” and breastfeeding her child. It was amazing…amazingly gross. I wanted to throw a huge ass poncho on her so she could stop exposing her girly parts. I also saw two men snorting crack cocaine. I turned to my friend and said “Unless you want to request the Electric Slide…let’s get out of here. I’m pretty sure I contracted Syphillis and Genital Warts, while standing here.” We left. She later explained that Barstow was also the Meth Capital of California. I looked at her…confused…sighed and said “Wow…Barstow is damn classy!”

Now on to the little boy looking at porn. So, I used to nanny this 11 years old boy. I will not provide his name but it rhymes with Bristian…and has a Ch….nevermind. Anyways, I was downstairs making his dinner…Mac and Cheese and toasted bread. He was upstairs “supposedly” doing his homework. So, I ventured upstairs to give him his food. Unfortunately, I did not knock and caught him… pants down looking at online porn. I dropped the food and yelled as I ran down the stairs “Your food is on the ground!” I quickly ran into the bathroom and vomited. It was the absolute grossest thing I have ever seen. I wanted to gouge my eyes out. Then, I wanted to gouge his eyes out. What a pervert!

After the fiasco, he pretended that nothing happened…he pretended that he wasn’t looking at “TEEN TITS and TACOS”. That rat bastard! So, I was like…hell no…he better recognize his unquestionable perversion. I mean that is just unacceptable, especially when someone else is in the house…and especially since he is only 11. I told him that if he ever did that again…his penis would fall off and he’d die a horrible, penis-less death. Also, I told his mom the horrors that I had seen. She gave me an extra $50 (she needed to cough up more than that…I was emotionally scarred) and took away his computer (she needed to send him to a Chinese military school). As she walked me to my car (since my knees were wobbly and my sight had not yet fully recovered), she told me that she had child-blocked sites like that…and that she cannot understand how he unlocked the site and found her password.

I looked at her and thought, “Seriously?”. An untrained monkey could have unblocked those sites. Her password is her son’s name. I’m sure it took him 5 minutes to unblock everything and read her private emails. He’s 11 yrs. old. He’s a product of technophiles and Geek Squad personnel. I left in disgust and severely disappointed in my $50 hush-hush money.

Anyways, two of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen in my entire life. This is saying a lot since I’ve seen cows being slaughtered and someone’s penis being crushed by a bowling ball.

I never, ever want to see grossness like that again. Ever.