Google-y eyes.

Saw this ad on the nytimes website:Zoom!

Kinda looks like this sucker, eh?


It's 5:14 AM. Do you know where your children are?

If your name is either Horn Tong or Sang Say, then your daughter is sitting at a Peet's coffeehouse updating her blog.  

Why?  Well, after studying at Denny's for the past two hours, a change of pace (and consumption) seemed nice.  Not that I saw much of the decor inside the restaurant.  I was busy reading for my physiology exam. 

I have slept an average of three hours a night these past few weeks.  I'm exhausted, run down, and only a quarter of the way through this semester.  But I look at the flashcard in my hand- this particular one details the mechanisms of an aquaporin channel- and, well, I feel pretty darn good.  I think one day I will probably get tired of all this book learnin'.  But not today, and not right now.  I just don't have the time to get exhausted.  (In a good way!  It's hard to be all eloquent and clever at this time on this little sleep.)  



Ladies and gentlemen,  this just in: I know I am Asian.  You do not have to remind me of that.  

I love gifts.  I appreciate that someone cared enough to pick me up a trinket when they travel.  I feel good knowing someone expended the effort to pick out a birthday/christmas/insert holiday gift during that season.  It warms me that I was in your thoughts when you were feeling generous.  

However, do not feel it is necessary to buy me a gift to remind me that I am Asian.  

Case in point: I had a lovely co-worker at UCLA who showed me the ropes when I was starting out in regulatory management.  She was very informative, kind, and ribald (she spent her lunch breaks showing me pictures of funny penises on Craigslist).  She surprised me with an early Christmas present one year: a Mickey Mouse t-shirt.  She knew I liked Disneyland so, appropriate, yes?  Well... 

"I saw it and knew it was perfect for you!  It's Asian and Mickey!"

Friendly Co-worker, thank you.  I know you have bills to pay and mouths to feed.  It means a lot that you spent part of your meager state salary on little ol' me.  But a shirt with giant Asian-style characters in gold spray paint?  

I did buy her a gift in return.  I don't remember what it was, but rest assured I didn't buy her a grass skirt and coconut bra to remind her that she's Tahitian.  

Even my credit card company feels the need to remind me.  I was reissued a card in the mail, and unsolicited I received one covered in chinese characters.  WHAAAAAAT.  

There are exceptions to this rule.  Par example, fun honeymooning couple got me an awesome tank with this written on it: 

Here's why this is OK:
- It hella cute. No garish asian letters I don't understand. No vaguely oriental emblems, no tired Asian-isms (although if this catches on, it may become one. I will be on the look out for that.)
-It hella true. Let's be honest here guys. I am not a bad looking lady. Also, I own like, four shirts with unicorns on them. When not wearing them ironically, it's pretty darn cute.
-It hella is something I'd expect from them. Bride friend is a huge David and Goliath fan. They both know my sense of humor and picked something not because it was asian (and hey, coincidence, I'm Asian!), but because it was funny and very me.
But certainly, this is the exception that proves the rule. 

So guys, next time you're out there shopping for your friendly neighborhood Asian, no matter the occasion, please, for everyone's sake, don't forget: they already know they're Asian.



When did I decide I needed to make some changes in my life?  The day I achieved this: 

My current high score on Bejeweled.  It took me over forty minutes before I was given the "No More Moves" sign, and this was only after implementing a technique I had perfected through hours- nay, DAYS of intense mental strain (slash trial and error).  

It's not just Bejeweled either.  I have discovered that I'm addicted to Escape-the-Room Games.  I am really good at finding stars, solving puzzles, and earning meat.  I, an early bird, have gone past night owl status into vampire territory because I stay up until 7 am defending my towers.  My mind is affected- I feel like an intellectual sloth, incapable of doing anything other than the basic point and click.  I had goals for this winter break, and I achieved so few of them.  

Truly, it is time to take Bedazzled's advice, and declare No More Moves for Kimmie!  I am declaring an internet curfew of 10 pm in a bid to return to my 7 am mornings.  I will be sharp, productive, quick on my feet.  

Crud, it's already 10: 41.