Dim Sum Diaries
I decided to pick up some take-out Chinese from the local PUS. Whilst at the counter...I had the following conversation with the guy taking my order:

PUS Guy: Here is your change, ma'am. Order for Carol!! Order for Carol is ready!!

a few seconds later...

PUS Guy: Carol? Carol? Oh, its Carl. Order for Carl!!!

Carl picks up his order amidst much kitchen noise...

Me: Uh, is my order ready yet?

PUS Guy: *genuinely baffled* What??? Why did you call me an idiot??? I don't even know you!

Me: *arches an eyebrow* I said, is...my...order...ready...yet?

PUS Guy: Oh. Yes it is.

Me: I didn't call you an idiot.

PUS Guy: Oh yeah. I knew that.
Bah, I'm stuck at work today and Blogger was down for awhile. Then I was frustrated because I thought of all these cool things to write about. Now that I'm sitting at my computer, my brain has completely blanked out. Typical. Sigh.

The family Christmas party last weekend was a complete success. Aunt S, taking my cue from last year, went all out to buy some outrageous white elephant gifts. I still had some male-ass wrapping paper leftover from last year, so my contributions of a phallically shaped shot glass and Viagra joke pills were easily identifiable in the gigantic pile of elegantly wrapped gifts. We ate and soon everyone took a number to pick a gift of their choice. My male cousin C got a tube of bright red lipstick (it’s his color) and another male cousin R received an over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder (32B). Hopefully he'll put it to good use. Aunt G was the lucky recipient of the shot glass and I don't remember who got the pills. But it was great fun!

I also went on a book-buying binge, so that my TBR (to be read) pile of books is waist high. If you look in my room, Lo-Gung's side of the bed is pretty neat, perhaps with a book or two and a picture of his grandmother. Sometimes during the weekend I'll lay on his side of the bed to read and I'll see how many romances I can stack on his nightstand until he notices and moves them back to my side of the bed again. I think 7 romance books is the current record. To give you a picture of how bad my book-spree was, I can just imagine the financial news reporter on NPR saying:

And in other news, BN shares went up sharply when a lone buyer purportedly went on a massive book binge, the likes of which have never been seen before!

That was me. :p

I still haven't touched my laptop yet. I've only re-installed the OS, but haven't gotten around to anything else. That's how crazy my life is right now.

And in even other news, Paul's Atomized Jr blog referenced a couple of my entries (woo hoo!). Its always gratifying to see someone who thinks your blog is cool enough to reference. He writes:

Should web loggers strive to be resolutely A-literary in their writing. Carefully compartment themselves as techbloggers, warbloggers, or photobloggers, in order to avoid their motives and aspirations being questioned for their commitment to and converscence in the history of literary ideas. Or like the Brown Recluses I keep finding in my apartment, should we just look for a warm-air draft and try to stand our ground, eight feet on the floor, through the winter of dis(claimed)content.

It made me think about my own purpose in keeping a blog. DSD obviously doesn't fit into the aforementioned categories, nor is it strictly a day-in-the-life-of-Mir blog. There are some literary elements to it. Also a bit of political opinion, but definitely not a political pundit blog. Who knows. At this point I find myself writing to express whatever impulse may be stewing in my brain on a given day. And that's it.

Man, could this entry be more rambly? ^_^
Okay, so here it goes. Remember the mini romance trilogy I wrote, He, She and They?

I'd like to come up with a cool official title for this belles-lettres. So you can post your suggestions in the comments or email me.

The "winner" (aka the person whose title I end up using) will be sent something cool and snazzy. How cool is that? And how can you not enter??? Its so easy! :)
How to properly check a baby's diaper (link via Ernie). Its along the same lines as don't blowdry your hair whilst taking a bath or standing a ladder on top of a frozen pile of horseshit and then ascending said ladder. -_-

In other news, got lots of shopping done this weekend...clothes and books, woo hoo!

Have A Merry Christmas...Now Bend Over...

Overall I had a pretty good Christmas this year. The kids, fortified with what only can be described as a massive sugar rush, had a lot of fun playing with their new toys. My mom kicked my ass at our annual Christmas Monopoly game. But then my sister whupped her butt, so that was cool.

So everything was cool and I was playing around on my iBook. I love it so much I even named her Priscilla (Priska for short, okay everyone now say awwwwwwwwwwwwww). The Updater thingie said I had some new software to update Priska with, more specifically, the 12/19/03 Security Update. So thats what I did, because I am a good Mac owner and I love my Priska and I take care of her. Everything updates fine, I reboot, blah blah blah.

A few hours later, Priska starts crashing. And when I reboot, my hard drive icon and the Finder is missing. I am totally panicked and my mind is screaming Eject! Eject! Eject!

Luckily, I can still access the internet, so I go to the Mac forums and find there is at least 1 other person who had Finder problems after installing this update. The recommended cure is to go to the Unix prompt and run fsck. Which I do repeatedly to no avail. Apple technical support is closed for the night, so I have to wait till this morning to call in. Which I did.

Apple Techie: Welcome to Apple Technical Support. Your initial 3 month free telephone support warranty has expired. Would you like to buy the AppleCare Protection Plan for $249 so that we can talk to you on the phone about your problems even though it was our fault we sent you a bad update and screwed your computer up in the first place?

Me: I'll just bend over now, shall I?

Apple Techie: *in a Mr. Burns-esque voice* Excellent.

[Whine phase initiated]

After spending one and a half hours with Apple Techie, the recommended course of action was to reinstall the OS X. That took another one and a half hours. I still have to reinstall all my other software. And I have to pay another $6 to re-download Norton Internet Security now.


[Whine phase terminated]

On the bright side, I get to do some serious clothes shopping this weekend.

Update: I called Apple back to complain that I shouldn't have to pay for their warranty because of their stupid update. So after their smooth saleslady talks to me, I'm still getting the warranty but at a reduced rate. My co-workers think its hella funny.
I just want to wish everyone a happy holidays.

I have a lot to be thankful for this year...my family, my health and countless other things. So tonight, the kiddies get their "official" Christmas pajamas from Santa Claus, which they will wear to bed that night. I'll bake some cookies, which will be left out for Santa, along with some milk and M&Ms. After they are asleep, I Santa will leave out a trail of M&M's leading from the tree to the fireplace (messy heh heh). This will be the physical evidence that he was actually in our house.

So everyone have a good one.

And to Spc. Annabel O. and Spc. Michael Z., Merry Christmas to you, wherever you are.

In Which Mir Goes Christmas Shopping And Talks Too Loudly For Her Own Good...

I'm very happy to say that I now have all of my Christmas shopping done. Most of it was done online, so I only had to run to a few stores to tie up the loose ends today. Whilst driving to Walmart, my girlfriend D called me and we were chatting about life, men, etc. etc. etc. As I entered the store, I noticed a Marine standing at attention in full dress blues next to a Toys for Tots bin. Since I find the sight of a man in uniform to be irresistible (guess what Lo-Gung is getting for Xmas lol), and I was talking to D (and therefore quite chatty), I blurted out (rather loudly) the first thing that came to my mind. "Damn, he's hot!"

Cute guy in uniform must have heard me as I passed him, for he glanced askance at me and shifted slightly.

"Who? Whose hot?" D demanded.

"This Marine in dress uniform," I explained rather lamely. "Shit. I think he heard me."

No use crying over spilt milk. I got a shopping cart and went on my way. Then of course we spent a few satisfying minutes discussing the various aspects of cuteness of this poor boy in dress blues.

So anyways, all of the Christmas shopping is done. I just have to wrap em all and set-up the magical experience that is Christmas for the kids. After that its the big family holiday party at the Fah-Poh. All of my maternal relatives get together, we have roast pig and various Chinese dishes. We have a white elephant/gag gift exchange. Last time (during Chinese New Year) my mom asked me to pick a gag gift for her because she didn't have time to get it herself. Read what happened here (Part 1) and here (Part 2). I don't think she'll make THAT mistake again. Hee hee.
Ah, the Thursday before Christmas. This weekend will be filled with much last minute running around and stuff. I watched LOTR: ROTK last night and it was the BEST. Go see it. Eowyn rocks. So does Faramir.

Also, Blogger gives us some hope that the average Jane/Joe bloggist can nab a fabulous book deal and get paids lots and lots of money!!!
What is your BLOGinality? I am an ISTJ! (thanks to Firefly for the link)

Lo-Gung recently asked what I wanted for Christmas, and I said I wanted this latest by James Carville. His is a pretty cool story. He was a key figure in getting Prez Clinton elected. He met his future wife, Mary Matalin, who served as political director for President George Bush's (Senior) reelection campaign in 1992. They dated each other through the campaign (even though technically they were political enemies). After Clinton won, they got married. Sigh. Yeah, yeah I know. Trust me to find the romantic angle of a hard-hitting political book.

Here is one interesting factoid, Mary Matalin called James Carville a "snakehead" when they were dating because of his head shape. He really does look like a snakehead, doesn't he? A snakehead with a make-up job for this book cover! ;)
In another interesting turn of events at work, a co-worker recently quit after getting another job. He will now be managing a local pet store that specializes in reptiles. While I wish him nothing but the best of luck, the implicit message underlying his change in vocation is quite clear.

I'd rather shovel reptile shit all day then work for my old company.

In other news, Lo-Gung and I are going to indian-wrestle to see who gets to watch Lord of The Rings tonight (the other has to stay home to watch the kiddies).
The morning dew glistens on the velvety petals of the pale pink rosebud. Just newly opened, its elegant stem gracefully arches to greet the warming rays of the sun. With a little tender loving care, its bloom would last for some time.

Until the cruel hand of fate viciously rips at the flower. Some petals fall to the ground before their appointed time. Shaken yet steadfastly resilient, the rose continues to survive and impart beauty to those all around. That is, until time withers the dying flower and the browned petals fall to the ground of their own accord.

Makes you think, that's all.

Yet Another Useless But Insightful Quiz

You are an Old Soul!
You are an old soul writer--neither a pantser (who
writes by the seat of her pants) nor a plotter
(who plots out a book before writing it).
You're a person who values serendipity and
spontaneity, but also realizes the benefit of
having an idea where a story is going before
you write it. You may make up an outline or
have a plan for a book, and write something
totally different, but that's OK. You're not
comfortable writing without having at least
some idea of where the story is going, but you
also like the freedom to change the story from
what you originally planned. You're a born
writer who realizes the value of serendipity.

What Kind of a Writer Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
I'm sick. I think I caught it from #1 (daughter) who had it earlier in the week. She got better and I started feeling like bloody hell. I slept all day yesterday and today I felt a little better, but I had to venture out to get some groceries, etc etc etc. Since its very close to Christmas, the market and various stores are alway crowded. People are all in a rush and more often then not, can be rude.

So I wake up from my nap, starving. Its 12:30 pm. I pull on a sweatshirt and some jeans, not even bothering with my hair, so its wildly all over the place. Bits and pieces sticking up everywhere. I have a wild-eyed look, possibly because I'm sick and because I haven't fully recovered from the NyQuill I took last night. My voice is extremely husky, rather like a man's. I don't know if its just me, but for some reason, everyone seems nicer or to treat me like I'm 10 years younger then I really am today. Maybe its because they think I look psychopathic and are nice to me on the fear that if they aren't I might go postal on them. Or maybe I look like such the sad drip, they feel sorry for me.

In any case, I go to Carls Jr and go in to order a burger/fries/drink, which I can't even finish (then you know I'm really sick).

Carls Jr Order Taker Guy: So you are gonna have the #1 combo? Excellent! And have a Merry Merry Christmas young lady!!

Mir: *Cough* Thank you.

Then its off to the market where I buy various items for dinner and stuff.

Supermarket Cashier: How YOU doin, hun? You okay there sweetie? Debit or credit dear?

So maybe I should like wild woman of Borneo more often, everyone will be nicer to me then. So like I don't even know if this entry is funny or not because I'm so out of it. So I've gotten home and The Vicar Of Dibley Season 2 came in by Netflix today, so I'm off to watch that with a cup of tea. Everyone have a good weekend.
She stared intently at the results of her hours of work and was very pleased indeed. It just needed a little tweaking here and there and it was finally done. Now all she had to do was put out a bit of bait and hopefully they would come in droves. To visit HER creation. Her blog.

When no one initially came, she decided to bring the mountain to Mohammed. Her first stop was the rt chatroom she frequented. After a few not so subtle hints, the first wave converged. They were the rt chat guys that she frequently hung out with. They buzzed in noisily and with great obnoxiousness, yet they enthusiastically validated her hours of work and effort (It is worth noting that Rand, Ferr, GM, Ender, Effy Weffy, ABA, Cyc and many others were great supporters from the very beginning). As many others were drawn to the web she had created, and began to interact with her on a regular basis, it seemed as if a mini-family within her blog had formed, and it gave her great pleasure and joy to get to know people and write the things she wanted to write...

Read the rest of this meandering story here. Its an interesting commentary on blogs. :)

Shake Me, Shake Me, Baby, Baby, Bake Me

A bit of holiday snowglobe cheer.
Hmmm...this German guy writes fanfic about Roy Orbison and Saran-Wrap. Its so bizarre its hilarious (via Ernie).

Note: its not blatantly sexual or anything, its just soooo...German. Just think of Mike Myers and his Dieter character. Just think of German porn. Just think of...I can't think of anything else related. :(
I have this theory about getting old. Old doesn't come up to you suddenly and beat the shit out of you. No old age is sneakier, more subtle then that. When you are young, you are invincible. But as time passes, a little bit slips here and a little bit slips there. Until one day you look with horror into the mirror and wonder what the hell happened to you?

In my case, this first slipped bit down the slippery slope of old-agedness is my vision. I've always had perfect vision. I'm not ashamed to say it nor am I above bragging either. My mother's side? They all wear glasses. Lo-Gung's family? They are all blind as bats without their eyewear (hopefully Lo_Gung is not reading this). For some reason my dad passed on his "perfect vision" gene to me. Lately, however, I notice that when I spend a lot of time in front of the computer or reading, my eyes get really tired. The muscles in my right eye were twitching alarmingly over the past few days, so I decided to make an appointment with the optometrist at Costco just to make sure everything is all right.

So I'm driving like a mad-woman because I'm already late to the appointment and I missed my exit and had to turn around and drive back a ways. After filling out some paperwork, the Optometrist waves me into the exam room and directs me to sit in a chair. I tell her how I have been feeling recently.

"So you need new glasses then? Or are you wearing contacts now?" Dr. C. asks.

"Actually, I go commando," I say jokingly and not without a degree of smugness. When she arches her eyebrow and begins to back away from my chair, I hastily add, "I mean in terms of not wearing glasses or contacts...er...never mind..." (Okay, I didn't really say that, but it makes for more interesting reading, don't you think). "I actually have perfect vision," I tell her smugly, "but my eyes have been getting tired a lot when I spend a lot of time in front of the computer.

She runs me through the various eye tests, which are a lot more high tech then the last time I had my eyes checked like 5 years ago. It was pretty standard except for when they test for glaucoma by having you stare intently into this machine and they quickly release a burst of air into your eye. I think I may have seen Dr. C. wince at my muttered "Oh shit" after each eye was immolated with air.

So she writes me a prescription then I go to the vision center and hand my prescription to the optician. "Do you want bi-focals or glasses?" she asks me.

"What are bi-focals?" I asked stupidly, non-plussed at her question. I reacted as if she had just asked me whether I used Polident for my dentures.

"You know, for distance and reading simultaneously?"

"Uh, I'll just have the reading glasses thank you."

"Please select your frames then," she suggests. So I go to the area where they have all of the glass frames. There are sections for men, children and women. I head over to the women's section, scrupulously avoiding what I termed the "dear dotty old thing area", you know with the large coke-bottle granny-esque designs. The kind that have the designs by Angela Lansbury, Angie Dickinson and Sophia Loren. Instead I head over to the chic section (well as about chic that Costco can get), that carries brands such as Guess, DKNY etc etc. I favor the tiny, sleek, stylish glass frames. You know the ones you see in pictures at the Eyeglass/Sunglass shops in the mall, with beautiful models wearing these hideously expensive frames, looking soulfully out into the distance. I pick a pair of what I think are cool looking tiny glasses by Guess? and hand them over to the optician.

"What do you think?" I ask her as I model the glasses for her. "Pretty cool eh? It’s hard to pick a pair of glasses by yourself because you have no one to tell you that you look like a fool when you think that you look cool.

"Er...you may want some bigger frames...those may be too tiny..." she suggested as she steered me over to the GRANNY section.

"Just keep in mind that I would like to keep it somewhat stylish," I said a little desperately.

She merely smiled. "No problem." After presenting the various options of what she thought would be a "suitable size" for my apparently gigantic, granny-apropos face, I decided on a pair that looked pretty decent and stylish.

As she was typing in my order, she asked if I wanted my glasses tinted. "Uh, sure, what are my options?" I asked. She showed me a range of colors. As tempted as I was for the bright ass yellow tint, I held back. Eventually, I held up a sample of pinkly tinted glass. "Oooh! How about this? To match my pinky metal glasses?" She shook her head.

"Only grannies pick that color," she advised direly. I quickly dropped the lenses back into the box, and ended up picking the light brown tint, which she thought went nicely with my glasses.

"Your order will be ready in a week and a half," she told me.

I took a deep breath and sighed. Getting old sucks.
Excuse me for a minute while I bitch about my Homeowner's Association. The stupid bastards that work there and can't add for crap seem to think that I don't pay my bills on time. Well you know what? I do. I've already sent all the checks (like way before the due date!) so get with the program and get your bookeeping in order!!

I am soooooooo going to call you and kick your asses tomorrow.

Okay, complaining time is over.

I'm still grumpy. Guess I'll have to head over to Mrs. Giggles and stare at some male num nums for a bit to make me feel better (Kyren knows what I'm talking about!!!). Ms. G. has Dieux du Stade calendars from 2001-2004!!! Although if you ask me, 2002 seems something out of The Village People. :)

Also, for some odd reason, Colymbosathon ecplecticos (Greek for amazing swimmer with large penis) cheers me up. :p
I've been following Margaret Cho's blog and it seems that a lot of her latest posts have been responses to letters people send her.

Then I went into a jealous rage (demonstrated by running to the nearest vending machine for some chocolate) because I was thinking, damn, why don't people send me long ass emails about the evils/non-evils of Thanksgiving??? I would totally post the letter and respond with the wit and wisdom that is Mir!

Well that's what happens when you are an unknown Asian chick living in Southern Cal. with a blog that has about 50 visitors a day. So if someone wants to send me a long email about something, I will respond. I stand at the ready. Bring it on, baby!

Damn, I'm tired. Almost time to go home from work and cook my delicious ham/potato potage for dinner (a recipe I made up myself).
They're mad as hell and they are not gonna take it anymore! :p
First the good news. Kudos to Wil Wheaton for this!

This is the weird news.
It was the final, critical moments. She lay back against the hospital bed, tired and weary. Yet a thread of hope remained in her heart because she knew it almost over. Her eyes were closed, her breathing was shallow. The room was quiet, except for the steady beep of the machines monitoring her progress.

A nurse moves into the room. She checks the the machines. Alarmed by the readouts, the nurse takes an oxygen mask and slips it over the face of the woman laying in the bed.

"Breathe deeply," the nurse says urgently. She walks quickly out of the room and summons the doctor. The doctor comes flying back.

"Its bad," the doctor tells the woman on the bed. "You have to push now."

Clamping down on her rising panic, the woman on the bed bears down with all of her might. A few seconds pass. A baby's head appears. His vitals are down, so the doctor uses forceps to grasp the baby's head and quickly pulls him out. The woman in the bed has been badly torn, but feels nothing thanks to an epidural. The babe is placed on her breast and she marvels at the miracle that is her second-born. He lays quietly, blinking with sleepy eyes.

Three years later, after countless diaper changes, colic, and engaging in the appalling habit of emptying the contents of shampoo bottles and entire rolls of toilet paper into the toilet, this boy still manages to alternately amuse and baffle his parents with his antics.

Happy birthday, my baby boy. Mommy loves you.