Thursday, June 30, 2005

      ( 9:14 AM ) teahouse
Cyclops Tooth

Today's post will be about someone who's been in the news a lot lately.

It will be about Tom Cruise.

Now obviously everyone has had something to say about him for the past few months. But I have something that's different from what everyone else has been saying.

My dentist told me that he has a strange dental condition where there's a large, prominent incisor in the MIDDLE of his mouth.

Once he told me that, I couldn't stop looking for it.

Here it is, quite prominent.

And here again. Make sure you scroll down on the screen to see the photo.

Now, everytime I see photos of him, that's ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT.


Wednesday, June 29, 2005

      ( 8:56 AM ) teahouse
Oh, Mickey You So Fine

Mr. Insolent Mouse is no more.

I hadn't seen him in a while. It had been about 6 months since the last sighting of him in my kitchen. So I figured he'd gone on to other apartments, greener pastures.

But over the weekend, while I was out getting milk, one of the friends staying with me saw what looked like a little pile of dirt or a shriveled up orchid petal on the floor under my table.

When I returned, there was a paper towel placed over it, and both friends said to me, "There's a dead, uh, Mickey. We would have gotten rid of him, but he's stuck to the floor!!! Waaahh!!"

For the next 2 minutes, all three of us collectively shrieked.

We left it there for a couple of days. Last night, after they were gone, the Boy removed the paper towel. He scraped up Mickey. He used a Swiffer cloth to wipe up the dried blood and fur.

The whole time, I was in my bedroom, curled up in a fetal position, shrieking.

There's still a small stain on my wood floor.

Now that's true love. I need to do something really nice for the Boy in return. Any suggestions?


Tuesday, June 28, 2005

      ( 8:41 AM ) teahouse
All By Myself

My friends have left. It was a lovely long weekend. We ate a lot, wandered around New York City, ate some more, stayed indoors during the worst of the heat, and ate even more.

There's nothing like showing people around the city where you live to make you fall in love with it all over again.

The place seems so quiet now...


Friday, June 24, 2005

      ( 9:47 AM ) teahouse
All Points Converge

I have two high school friends who have separately phoned me to tell me they're both going to be in New York for the weekend, and would I mind if they stayed with me?

Of course I don't mind. I have stayed pretty close friends with one, but the other I haven't seen since our last high school reunion, and before then not since high school. But we've kept in touch via email and letters.

I told them each that the other was staying with me as well. And that they have to share my pull-out couch.

Tickle fight!


Thursday, June 23, 2005

      ( 8:33 AM ) teahouse
Corporately Challenged

My firm is running the Corporate Challenge tonight. 3.5 mile race in Central Park. Top 2 male and top 2 female finishers on each team have their times submitted. Teams with the fastest times get to go to the championships.

My firm has been in the championships for the last 4 years running. But this past year, we lost 3 of our fastest female runners.

Therefore, slow old me may actually be one of the fastest women at the firm now. Sad, I know, considering how slow I am.

The partner I've been working for this week has been cracking the whip (hence the spotty posting).

What's worse, he's also one of the fastest runners at the firm.

So on top of hearing him tell me what to do at work, I have to hear him say things like, "Well, I hope you're ready to run fast tomorrow night..we're counting on you..."

I can't take the pressure!


Tuesday, June 21, 2005

      ( 8:32 AM ) teahouse
Lady UnLuck

The Boy has been in Las Vegas since the weekend. He and some buddies went out there a few days ago for a bachelor party.

I had lots of grand plans for the weekend. I was going to relax, and donate that pile of clothes in my living room to the Salvation Army. And pick up dry cleaning. And catch up on sleep. And maybe go to MOMA.

Instead, I found myself stuck at the office until 10 p.m. both Saturday and Sunday nights. And 11 p.m. last night.

The Boy has called me several times to check up on me. Our conversations have gone like this:

Him: We went to a restaurant called the Pink Taco tonight. Lots of beer! I'm drunk!

Me: I ordered tacos from the local Mexican restaurant when I was working late tonight.

Him: I won $700 playing poker tonight!

Me: I wish I could bash that partner's head in with a poker.

Him: I got sunburned from sitting by the hotel pool.

Me: I'm really pale because I haven't seen the sun in 72 hours.

Him: The other guys are still gambling downstairs, but I came up to my room to relax and chat with my cute girl.

Me: You hired a stripper for your hotel room?

He has handled my foul mood very well. He's flying home tonight, and has promised to take me out to a lovely dinner with his winnings.

As long as he lets me super size, I'll be content.


Sunday, June 19, 2005

      ( 9:35 AM ) teahouse
Who's Your Daddy?

I just ran the WABC Father's Day Fight Against Prostate Cancer. 5 miles in Central Park! I was pretty happy. My time was ok, my legs feel good.

I also called my dad to wish him a happy Father's Day.

I was blessed with a fabulous dad.

He is from an extremely patriarchal society, and felt lots of pressure (as the oldest son in his family) to have a son, but was blessed with two daughters instead.

But it never bothered him. And he never felt, like some of his siblings and friends did, that he and my mom should keep having kids until they had a son (which I find to be a barbaric custom).

Because my mom has struggled with mental illness for many years, she was often not able to take care of me when I was a kid. So my dad had to fill the gap.

He helped my sister and me with our homework. He came to our tennis and softball and soccer matches in high school. He went to the Parent/Teacher conferences. He helped me with my science fair project. He drove me to music lessons. He bought me a prom dress (even though he complained about the cost).

He pushed me to study math and science, saying things like, "Calculus is easy!" and "Don't let those boys in math class fool you; they don't know it either and aren't any smarter than you" and "It never hurt a girl to have an engineering degree, now, did it?"

He encouraged me to go to law school, and to move to New York, even though it meant going far from home, and even though I had a good job offer much closer to where my parents lived.

So I called my dad today to tell him 2 things:

(1) "Happy Father's Day, dad!!"
(2) "Have you had your prostate checked recently?"

It was my way of saying I care, and thanks for being a great dad.


Friday, June 17, 2005

      ( 8:42 AM ) teahouse
Doilies and Figurines

I went to my friend J's apartment to hang out last weekend.

J is what I'd call a doily and figurine girl. Her apartment is covered in, well... doilies and figurines.

Doily and figurine girls are the grown-up versions of the little girls I played with who had porcelain dolls in their perfectly-matched bedrooms. They had a pink, frilly canopied bed.

They had a bunch of stuffed animals lined up perfectly, color coordinated. And at least one Cabbage Patch Kid that would allow them to nurture their pre-motherly instincts and dream of growing up and motherhood.

They had a dresser with pink trim and a large, heart-shaped mirror. Their hair things would be neatly lined up on it, with some clever contraption for storing the hair bows that matched all of their outfits.

There would be either no posters (because their mothers didn't approve), or at most, there'd be a framed pink painting of flowers that matched the rest of the decor.

Or if they were rebels, there'd be a small poster of Kirk Cameron or Corey Haim, with lipstick kisses on it. But that came in the older, rebellious teenage years.

These girls grew up and became doily and figurine girls.

I, on the other hand, had a mismatched bedspread and pillowcases, dirty socks lying around, and walls covered with National Geographic posters.

You can never tell if someone is a doily and figurine girl until you go to her apartment.

Everything will be very neat. There will be fresh flowers everywhere.

Her dishes and silverware will match (mine don't). You won't trip over her tennis racquet or running shoes in the entryway. Her coffee table won't have junk piled up on it (mine does). She'll have food in her refrigerator for you (I don't).

Her cabinets will be neatly stacked with her beautiful matching dishes, and her sink will look like it's never been used.

She'll even have an honest to goodness china cabinet, full of dishes and figurines that have been passed down to her from her grandmother.

When you stay with her overnight, she'll give you a complete matching towel set. And the sheets she gives you to put on the pull-out couch will match perfectly.

When you drop by the apartment of the doily figurine girl unannounced, she always protests that her place is a mess and she isn't dressed properly.

But it's still immaculate, her bed looks like she never slept in it, and she has a cold glass of lemonade waiting for you.

Doily and figurine girls are more highly concentrated in the South. There are fewer per capita in major cities than in suburban and rural areas.

Yeah, I'm pretty much the anti-doily and figurine girl.

I think that at the very least, my habit of taping my gnarly and sweaty race numbers from all of my races onto my wall in a crooked and haphazard fashion pretty much eliminates me from doily and figuring girl contention.

I was explaining all of this to my secretary yesterday. I said, "Yeah, J is a total doily and figurine girl."

She gave me a LOOK. "Uh...what's wrong with doilies and figurines?" she said.

It was then that I KNEW. My secretary is a closet doily and figurine girl.

I have to be careful what I say. They're all around.


Thursday, June 16, 2005

      ( 8:29 AM ) teahouse
Run Like the Wind

I just got back from the gym. My leg is completely healed, I ran a long way on the treadmill, and I feel GOOD.

I love the feeling of being hot, sweaty, finishing a workout, and feeling my entire body tingle.

I also like to chase people around when I'm hot and sweaty like this.

Come here, you. Yeah, you. Let me kiss all over you!! Let me rub my sweaty self all over you. Come to THB!!!


Wednesday, June 15, 2005

      ( 8:27 AM ) teahouse
It's Too Darn Hotttt

It's been in the 90s all along the East Coast this week.

This is worse than the hottest summer I spent in Texas when I was in school. It's worse than the hot, sticky summers that punctuated my memories of childhood in the Deep South.

How hot is it?

1. It's so hot, that every morning the sunscreen on my face melts and drips into a pool on my collar.

2. It's so hot, that when I get up off a subway seat, I leave sweat stains behind.

3. It's so hot, that I've started taking 5-minute breaks at work to stand in front of the open door of the mini-fridge in the office pantry.

4. It's so hot, that the aromatherapy candle in my bathroom spontaneously melted yesterday while I was at work.

5. It's so hot, that instead of a morning coffee each day, I've been buying a morning Gatorade.


Monday, June 13, 2005

      ( 9:03 AM ) teahouse
No Mosquiters

With the arrival of the hot summer, I've decided to share a secret about me:

I am obsessed with citronella candles.

I don't know why; something about the scent of citronella makes me so happy.

One of my favorite things to do is go out on my fire escape, sit above the street and light a little candle.

During the summer, the New York Philharmonic and the Metropolitan Opera have free concerts in Central Park.

I round up a group of friends, pack sandwiches, bring a blanket and some citronella candles. I can sit there for hours, happy that the mosquitoes are not eating me for dinner.

My leg injury bothered me on Saturday morning, so I chose not to run that 10K. Instead, I sat outside, lit a candle, and read the Sunday Times.


Friday, June 10, 2005

      ( 8:24 AM ) teahouse
Mini Me

The Mini 10K is tomorrow.

It's a huge race, New York City's original women-only race. Always has huge turnout. When I first started running seriously, I set it as my goal.

I kicked butt in last year's race, the first time I ran it. I set a personal best time for a 10K.

This year my training has been derailed. I have a leg injury; I got sick twice and didn't run for 2 weeks.

Plus, tomorrow's high is supposed to be in the 90s.

The Boy has begged me not to run it. "You're going to kill yourself," he said. "Let's just go to the gym instead, and run on the treadmill together. 6 miles in the heat is too much if your training hasn't been good; take it easy."

I don't know what to do. I'm caught between my pride and ambition, and the limitations of my body.

I want to participate in this huge female bonding experience.

But the idea of running on a treadmill hand in hand with the Boy, although cheesy and weird, is yet strangely appealing.


Thursday, June 09, 2005

      ( 8:42 AM ) teahouse
Charity Begins at Home

I recently met up with D, a friend from high school I hadn't seen in nearly 10 years.

We lost touch during college, and recently we got back in touch through mutual friends. She lives in Boston.

She was in New York for the weekend on vacation. We had Sunday brunch, and then she told me she wanted to see my apartment. So I invited her over.

As we walked in, I apologized for the pile of junk in one corner of my living room. "That's all stuff I've been meaning to take to the Salvation Army. The bag is full of clothes I want to donate."

The next thing I knew, she had leaped across my living room, and was sitting on the floor, rooting through the bag.

She held up a sweater. "This would look good on me," she said.

I stood there for a moment. "Uhh, ok...would you like something to drink?" I asked.

She ignored me and kept going through the bag.

By the time she left, 15 minutes later, she had taken most of the clothes from the bag.

"Here, why don't you just take the whole bag," I offered. "You'll have something to carry the clothes in."

Was it just me, or was it all a little weird? Shouldn't she at least have waited for me to offer to give her the clothes?


Tuesday, June 07, 2005

      ( 9:17 AM ) teahouse
We Like the Maguro

Last weekend, I went on my first-ever double date with a lesbian couple.

Since we were meeting in their neighborhood, we let them pick the restaurant.

They chose a sushi place.



Monday, June 06, 2005

      ( 8:54 AM ) teahouse
The View From the Top

I continued my apartment hunting quest over the weekend.

A coworker mentioned to me, "Hey, you know there are new luxury condos going up in Jersey City. They're right on the water, and have a spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline. You should look into them."

I asked, "What's the price range?"

He said, "Well, they start at $700,000 for a one-bedroom."

"That's an outrageous price!" I exclaimed. I can get a one-bedroom in Manhattan for a lot less than that."

He thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, well, you wouldn't have a view of the Manhattan skyline from it, would you?"

I had to admit he had a point.

I guess there are people who'd rather pay a premium for a view of it than actually live in it.


Thursday, June 02, 2005

      ( 10:40 AM ) teahouse
Running on Empty

I can't believe this; I got sick again.

I think it was something the Boy and I ate after seeing Star Wars. I came home, got up in the middle of the night, and was in the bathroom with, er, stomach issues for 2 hours.

Yesterday, he and I lay on my couch for several hours, taking turns using the bathroom. You know how you get the urge but have nothing? Not a pretty sight.

I can't afford to take any more time off from work! I have looming deadlines..I feel like I can't catch a break here.



Wednesday, June 01, 2005

      ( 8:35 AM ) teahouse
Feeling a Little Sith

I finally saw the Star Wars movie last night.

It was ok. I didn't like the painful childbearing scene. Painful childbearing scenes always make me cringe. I guess they didn't have epidurals a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

Oh, and at work someone forwarded me this movie as well. Much shorter, free, and the acting was even less wooden.

I think my favorite line is, "Reach out with your peelings."


THIRTYSOMETHING (!!) year old Asian American New Yorker, lawyer, amateur musician, curious girl taking a bite out of the Big Apple. Don't mess with me - I'm short and I look demure, but I carry a big purse. And I've just embarked on the journey of married life in Manhattan.

Currently Reading
The Labors of Hercules by Agatha Christie

Currently Listening To
Mozart: Sinfonia Concertante

Currently Watching
Poirot: The Clocks

E-mail teahouseblossom

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