Dim Sum Diaries
Berklee just sent me a funny link, a guy photoshops existing romance novel covers. Hilarity ensues.

And it seems that a stressful work environment cannot completely kill the creative juices. More on that in a bit...
Mir officially has a new hair color now...its frazzled and grey!!!! Bah!!! Have begun mentoring my counterpart on the other side of the country...I am so stressed out right now. Have begun to wander the halls mumbling incoherently with a look of perpetual bewilderment. Many people may ask, "Mir, how is that any different from your usual self?" Right.

A large number of peeps (a big group of males) wandering around the office (prospective tenants?) yesterday. When I had to go wee, found them all congregated IN THE GIRL'S BATHROOM. Men and all!! Were apparently either discussing the merits of the girls' bathroom (this is toilet. toilet good...does the sanitary napkin dispenser really work???) or was possibly doing bathroom patrol (tp roll should hang above, not under). In any case, it was extremely annoying as I really had to go. One of the guys kinda smirked at me. After a pointed look at the group, I used the one on the hella other side of the building.

Oh god, now I'm so going to get fired for blogging about work toilets.
It will the last day for some of my colleagues this Friday. I think I will be going to at least two farewell lunches. Then there is job/resume training as well---five more weeks until the day. More stress, but the end is finally nearing.

In other news, Daughter finds more proof that her mother is a dork. Went to Soup Plantation (an all you can eat buffet place) for dinner last night. I got a bowl of chili and upon my return to our booth, I exclaimed, "Oh, I must away and get the accoutrements for this bowl of chili!"

"What is Mommy talking about?" Daughter wondered.

"Oh, don't mind Mommy," Hubby replied, "She's just means sour cream and cheese for her chili. Mommy's weird that way...shhhhhh..."

Got my revenge later though. How to have fun at 4:30 am? After getting ready for work, whisper a few choice, enticing phrases in half-asleep Hubby's ear, then sprint out the door when he tries to grab for you.
The Daily Show has a humorous take on the whole Jeff Gannon affair, a reporter (this term is applied very loosely) with Republican leanings and mucho access to the White House was outed as a hack who ran several gay porn websites. See the video here. Also funny is a discussion of the growing role of bloggers as an independent news source. Gotta love Jon Stewart.

6 weeks left in job, has loosened the tongues and disposition of many a co-worker. It has been discovered that Mir has a rather prurient sense of humor, manifested yesterday at a birthday lunch for co-worker. In the course of writing L a check (to reimburse for lunch as I am notorious for being cashless at all times), wrote in the memo section, for sexual favors, then howling with laughter as check was passed around the table. L turned a bit red, but took the ribbing good-naturedly. But now that I blogged about it, ha ha ha, who knows...

Mother Will Be So Pleased That She Finally Has Gotten Her Revenge

I hate structure. I like setting my own pace to things, doing things my own way. That's why, to the utter frustration of my mom, I absolutely hated piano. After a few years of taking lessons, my mom let me quit.

"You're going to regret it some day," she warned me.

"No, I'm so hella not!!!" I replied. (okay, my 8 year old self didn't quite phrase it that way).

Fast forward a few years, now Mir the MOM is now inflicting the same piano tortures upon her own daughter. Except said daughter actually seems to enjoy piano, much to the bafflement of her mother. It's been six months since she started...in the beginning it was very easy to help her practice because I remember the basic concepts. However, the other day the piano teacher hands me an advanced looking book.

"Oh, your daughter will be playing SOMETHING LIKE THIS soon, so you'll need to help her practice," she said.

I looked at the book. "But...but...this has...so many notes...in it..."

"Oh, it's easy, no problem for you..." she said confidently, revealing that once again, it is BIG a mistake to bullshit your daughter's piano teacher as to how much musical knowledge you actually possess.

So it seems I am "taking" lessons along with my daughter after all...sigh...
I think I got a little happy with the garlic, and I am now paying the price. Cooked spag last night. Hubby brought home a delicious baguette from Panera Bakery, so I decided to make garlic bread as an accompaniment. Took massive cloves of garlic and chopped/minced the hell out of them. Sauteed the garlic in olive oil, then drizzled over slices of the baguette. Baked for a bit and it was delish (ate massive amounts).

But the downside of it is that I think I must be oozing garlic from every pore. Once in awhile I'll catch a whiff of it (even after taking morning shower). I wince...hoping that I don't smell like a garlic clove too badly...will report more later...

Oh well, at least won't have to worry about being attacked by a vampire today... -_-
Today is the day of luuuuurrrve and all that, so I must away to the store and get something for Hubbo and a little treat the kids. Hope everyone has a good one.

I must also make a mental note in the future, do not volunteer for a potluck dish that requires much cooking. Esp if you wake up at frigging 4 am. The Asians at work decided that V-Day would be a good potluck day. I then proceeded to brag all up and down that my fried rice was the best to be had in the Western United States. It was 10:30 pm last night when I realized I had yet to make my dish. And with the Asian emphasis on "must be fresh the minute before eating", it's not like I could make it the night before. The morning of would have to do. So woke up at 3:30 this morning, dashing around like a mad woman trying to make fried rice so I could hold my head high when I came to work (if I did store-bought then peeps would've kept asking me, "Where's the real deal, huh? huh?). Damn, I have another potluck tomorrow where I'm supposed to bring cornbread. Oh well.

Also have a nice screenshot of my character on WoW. I just love my gloves (Craigfist Gloves of the Gorilla)!!
I wasn't on planning on blogging today, but here I am doing it. Went to lunch with some colleagues (for pho), and some interesting facts were revealed about them.

*cue suspenseful music*

I've tried to avoid blogging about work, mainly because I don't want to get my ass fired. The few tidbits that slip through are about L, a female co-worker whom I go to lunch with a lot and always share a good laugh with. So it's L, me, and another two guys, whom we'll call The Mysterious E and also T.

We're eating and having a good time, and suddenly The Mysterious E said, "So I hear you have a blog."

I instantly turned to L (who was the only one who knew about DSD). "You told!" I accused. It's not something I really wanted to get around.

She shrugged. "Well, yeah."

"Yeah," The Mysterious E continued. "Why you be ragging on people so much?"

"When did you read it?" I was trying to remember if there were any recent entries in which I dissed someone (apparently I'm quite gullible).


Sigh. So it turns out The Mysterious E has a blog too. Checked it out and it looks pretty cool. The we talked about all the things I wanted to blog about work---some of the peeps there, the inaneness of the current situation, etc etc etc. But I didn't/haven't. And apparently L is setting up a blog/website of her own.

Talking about blogging to real live people who actually know you (and know what blogging is) is a little disconcerting, but cool. It's like someone who knows the secret handshake to your ultra secret club.
Aye, that is Chinese for Happy New Year. Today is the sacred day of days, so for anyone and everyone who celebrates it, Gung Hay Fat Choy!!

So what does Mir choose to blog about on CNY? Food of course, which seems to be a very important aspect of Chinese culture (second only to the eating of the food, of course). My parents place great emphasis on a Chinese restaurant being good enough to frequent based on its authenticity, and the food must also be very tasty. I've always enjoyed taking my non-Asian friends to Chinese restaurants. One time (back in the day), I took Hubby (then only known as Boyfriend) and my college roomate Marla out to dinner at a Chinese restaurant (side note: Marla asked me what her name meant in Chinese. I told her "monkey" (phonetically it sounds like mah-lau which is monkey in Cantonese but that's just me), she wasn't very happy about that). Both were ecstatic when the waiter didn't immediately bring them forks (a sign that they are not complete Chinese culture noobs). Had to order a clay pot dish containing chicken feet of course, Marla decided she would take the plunge and try it. In the course of her trying to spear a foot with her chopsticks (still newbie at it), she somehow managed to break her chopstick, the shards flying across the room. I was howling with laughter, she was totally embarassed. She turned even more red when the tight-lipped waiter approached her, placed a fork firmly on the table and said, "You need this."

In other news, I want to give Hubby a hearty congratulations. He's published!! Woot! He co-wrote a technical article (he's a chemist) for an industry mag. There is a headshot of him wearing a suit in there. And the editor of the magazine called him an industry giant. So kudos to you, my man (who is still bitter about me telling him wasabi is guacamole)!!!!!!!!
To continue along the theme of blog plugging, please check out My War, a blog by Colby Buzzell who just got out of the army. His writing is raw and powerful. I mention this because he has a book coming out soon (his writing is that great) and I for one can't wait to read it.

For those regular readers of DSD, know how I feel about the whole war situ (yet remained fascinated by actual soldiers themselves etc...is it the uniform?). On my commute to work, I drive by a gigantic base and often see military trucks, etc moving around the area. Yesterday on my way home, there was a convoy of the green trucks (driving the usual 55 mph, everyone else is going 85-90 mph). The back of the truck was open, and soldiers were sitting in the back, dressed in full combat gear. One of them looked directly at me as I whizzed by. He was probably in his early 20s. I instinctively waved, and he actually waved back. Then I was off (driving at 85-90 mph), on my way home. And he on his, probably nearing a rotation to Iraq in the near future. It was a quick moment but I hoped I conveyed that I was rooting for him to stay safe, even though I had no idea of who he was.
Check out Badly Dubbed Boy's blog, an Asian brutha living in the UK. He's quite witty and funny. And may I say that the first time I met a Chinese with a British accent (long ass time ago), I almost fell over with shock. I was like, that is so damn cool! I want a British accent too! But who am I to speak, like you know, I have a Valley Girl accent!!

Trekked up to my parent's house to celebrate Chinese New Year and spent the night there. My mom was like, "Mir, why are you here this week? CNY isn't until next Wednesday." Had some lovely authentic dim sum for breakfast/lunch on Sunday morning. Mom and Dad kept rolling their eyes as I enthusiastically stuffed my face with things I hadn't been able to taste in a long time. Have forgotten how relational a dim sum meal is, especially if one's father is "in" with the restaurant waitstaff/cookstaff. Each time a dim sum lady came by rolling a cart, they'd hawk their wares and freely comment on the bi-racial look of my kids. Then my dad really really wanted this orgasmically delicious white noodle thingie with shrimp eveloped in it dipped in soy sauce (I have shamefully forgotten the name of it in Chinese). So he asked every dim sum lady who passed by to see if there was any available. Then of course every dim sum lady re-passed by to report the status of desired dish. It was kind of funny.

"Almost gone, they are making a new batch."

"Not ready yet."

"They only have it with beef, not shrimp."

"Almost here."

Finally got it and it was indeed muy delicioso.

In addition plz check out Star Wars costumes gone horribly wrong!!! (I chose to ignore co-workers smart-ass comment, "Mir where are you in this photo gallery?")
So I've been living with this man for nine some odd years now and thought I've pretty much seen everything under the sun regarding him. But last night reminded me that someone you've known for so long can surprise you.

First of all, I leave at hella early in the morning for work (4:30 am to be exact), so I miss the comings and goings of ma familie. It was quite a shock last night to see Hubby get home from work, wearing a charcoal grey (one of my absolute favorite colors) dress shirt and black dress pants. And he was wearing his glasses...he looked pretty damn hot.

But that wasn't what I wanted to blog about. So anyways, his car battery died. He called to tell me about it, but was able to get someone from work to jumpstart his car. When he came home, my car was blocking the driveway (as usual), so he couldn't get into the garage (which he needed the light in order to be able to change the car battery) and he parked on the street. A little later, he yelled for my attention.



"Come help me move the car!"

"But your car battery is dead! How are you going to move it???"

"By pushing it!"

Oh. Keep in mind that Hubby has always been unusually strong and agile. In college, whilst at a graduation party, he clambered up a 20 foot freestanding clock tower with no problem. When everyone was staring at him, he shrugged and was like, "What?"

His name was henceforth, Spiderman.

Back to the story at hand, he wanted me to steer the car while he singlehanded pushed the 20,000 lb Accord station wagon into the garage. "We'll push it all the way back to the end of the street, get a running start and hopefully the momentum will help carry the car into the garage," he said.


But first he had to push the car into position (while I steered). After some grunting and mutterings of "No Mir, turn to your OTHER RIGHT," we (he) got the car into position. Since the street was a slight incline towards our house, it was a little easier to push the car forward. We started and as soon as the car hit the driveway, he began to push with all of his might, and I hit the brake as soon as we began rolling back. It was halfway into the driveway.

He sighed. "We should try this again."

"I'll push this time!" I volunteered cheerily.

"Are you sure you can push and steer at the same time."

"I'm going straight...how hard can it be to steer?"

At his doubtful look, I shot him a mean glare. "Let's just do it."

So we try it again and with MY help, we are able to get the car 3/4 of the way into the driveway. Battery is changed and and all is well that ends well.

"Wow," I tell him as he lay on the floor panting for breath. "That was quite a show of manly manliness."

He gets up and I walk over to him. I run my hand up the lean flank of his torso.

"Come give us a proper kiss then, Spiderman."

No More Being Morose - Friday Funnies!

Got this in an email, thought I'd share it with the blogosphere:

The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls." I told my husband that I would be home by midnight, "I promise!"

Well, the hours passed and the magaritas went down way too easy. Around 3 a.m., a Bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door the cuckoo Clock in the hall started up and cuckooed three times.

Quickly realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed another nine times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.

The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him, "Midnight." He didn't seem pissed off at all. Whew! Got away with that one!

Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock. When I asked him why, he said, "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, "Oh Shit," cuckooed four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."
Got my official letter last Friday, detailing the particulars of the layoff (3/31). I have to say it's a bit of a relief, but at the same time casts me into a state of the already and the not yet, to borrow a biblical phrase. Many stress-filled days at work make me want to howl like a bear with a sore toe. I just want to curl up in bed, throw the comforter over my head and burrow. That's what I would do (if I wasn't playing WoW and getting entirely too little sleep).

I just want it to be over already.