Simple Rules.

{photo credit}

This isn't uncommon.  You meet someone, but things are immediately complicated.  One of you isn't entirely available, location is a hassle, or you're just not into each other enough to make it legit.  So you fall into a casual half-life, seeing each other occasionally without a definition of what you mean to each other or where you're going.  The idea of the Two of You is likely doomed from the start, so instead you entertain the distraction of a Someone to scratch your back and bridge you to wherever you're really going.  Now, I'm not saying this is an innovation in the human condition or anything, but we all do it, and I don't know why certain practices aren't universally understood.  So I shall impart my wisdom. 

Here's what needs to said:  when in casual dating encounters, responsibility is on both parties to remain emotionally neutral and relationally distant.  

My proposed guidelines, or the Let's Have Fun, but..... List:

1. Keep the details.  I don't want to know the sordid specifics of your family dynamics, and I'll spare you the comprehensive list of my food allergies.

2. No ex girlfriend talk.  I don't want to compare myself to your Goddess that Got Away, or think about you using me to fill the her-shaped hole in your life.  We're using each other to feel good, not inadequate.

3. Be polite.  At the very least, we are both people who know each other.  Don't be a d*ck.  Respond when I reach out, leave when prompted.  I'll do the same, and remember that you're still a person.

       3.a. Get over yourself.  I am NOT TRYING TO WIFE YOU.  I know we aren't in a relationship.  I know this isn't going there.  You don't have to intermittently be an ass just so I don't fall in love with you.  Eyeroll.   

4. Keep our mouths shut.  We probably know some of the same people.  We're keeping it light, so let's not broadcast our silly flirtation to the masses.  Do YOU want to explain this?

5. Don't. Get. Romantic.  This is the most important.  I am really well evolved to keep emotions at bay, be light and breezy, but it takes some effort, man.  So we both have to be realistic.  Romance clouds the confines of what this isn't, and confuses us both.  No calling it a date.  

                                          It's not a date.  

The Skinny, Fat, and Smelly.

I've been staring at this screen for an embarrassingly long time, just staring at the sentence 

"I've been staring at this screen for an embarrassingly long time..."

A lot has gone on, guys.  I just can't know where to start and which events are the most important to jot down on this silly little outlet.  After a series of several thousand desperate distractions, I remembered this email I sent to a friend in September.  He had noticed some strange photo patterns on my Instagram, and just sent a "hey, what's going on with you?" text message to find out my deal.  He got way more than he asked for, and I am now gifted with a quick and dirty synopsis of my current state of being.  If you have the patience, this is the recap (mind you, this was written in September.  Should've posted it then.....):

Hey Hey-

6 months ago:

I start to feel.... itchy.  I've never been great at staying put anywhere but LA has been providing needed stimulation and distraction for three years.  I love the standup and my improv team.  I become obsessed with hip hop dance classes.  I also start to loathe my job and coworkers.  Not sure where I want to go or what I want to do, but just feeling discontent.  Tried distracting myself with new activities and people, and it works for a minute.

4 months ago:

I start hearing that 4 years in LA is the point of no return.  I sweat.  I think maybe what I need is a change in neighborhood.  As much as I loved my little place, I spent all of my time in Silver Lake and Echo Park.  I already had arranged a month off of work in July, so I figured I'd pack up all my stuff before I left and find a new place when I got back.  New start, etc etc.  I start telling people that I'm just waiting to be pulled somewhere, in a new direction.  I toy with getting certified in yoga, going off the grid and volunteering on a medical ship in Africa, writing a novel, dating comedians, etc etc

3 months ago: 

My friend Adam makes me read this book, "The Defining Decade".  It's basically a book speaking of the cultural phenomenon that defines our twenties as a throwaway decade, and how that's a load of crap.  Our thirties are NOT the new twenties, and being happy in your middle years comes from learning how to not be an assface and make anything of yourself in your twenties.  My discontent flares into full on existential crisis.  Conveniently, my intended month vacation to Europe trip falls apart.  I end up needing to be up in the Northwest for a few weddings in July, so I decide to take the time to do a long drive up there, take the 101 along the coast, run on my aunts farm, play in canada, unplug my devices and plug my ears, etc etc.

2 months ago:

I pack up all of my shit and leave it in my friends garage.  I set out on my road trip, just blaring Mariah Carey and bawling my bloody eyes out.  The drive is beautiful, and I reaffirm my love for the NW, and come to terms with the fact that I might just want to end up there. Its everything I love, and the place I want to be when I get old and ugly.  One major takeaway from the book is that if you know where it is you want to end up, GO.  Don't wait to get what you will want eventually.  Go get it now.  I get up to Seattle, hike in the mountains, wade in the water, and just decide I'm ready to be back here.  The fear of shame in leaving LA kept me there for a while.  I let go of it in July.  If I have to choose between being 'right' or being happy, I EFFING CHOOSE HAPPY! 

So I sent a breezy email to a few of my travel nurse recruiters, asking them to just let me know if anything in Seattle or Portland comes across their desk.  No rush, but think of me.  I immediately get a response for Seattle Childrens', which is a dreamy top 5 facility.  I submit for the position but don't hear anything.  I dont stress, wasn't in any rush. 

1 month ago:

I'm on my trip, darting all over the NW to get to all of the events I was committed to.  Had made several plans and re-plans to see my grandma over the span of 2 weeks.  Lost passport, surprise concert tickets, plans and fall aparts pushed and pulled me to finally go and see her on a Friday.  She passed away pretty suddenly that Sunday night.  She was feeling weird after a colonoscopy Friday night, pain came and went all day Saturday, and I finally just took her in late that night.  She had been bleeding from her spleen, and required surgery to stop it and clean out the blood in her abdomen.  She did great in surgery on Sunday afternoon and crashed 2 hours after coming back from surgery.  I was in her room and watched them code her for way too long.  My family was devastated.  I have never felt so much like I happened to be exactly where I needed to be in the world.  I extend my trip another 10 days to attend her funeral.  Hollywood has never seemed so vain or futile.  

Right after she passed, I got a cold call from the nurse manager at Seattle Childrens'.  We talk for an hour, and she offers me a job and surprises me with day shift, which I was not expecting.  Crying again.  Snotty and giggling at the same time.  

2 weeks ago:

I come back from WA to LA, with a dopey grin on my face the entire way because I just feel so damn good despite all the devastation I had just been through.   On my first day back to work, I hand in my two weeks and can hardly be bothered from then on. 

Last week:  I packed all of my shit in LA into a pod, to be stored til I find a place in Seattle.  My friend Coco comes to LA for an OC wedding, and makes the drive back up with me.  

We spend two nights on the Lost Coast, this crazy wilderness conservation area in NorCal. Google it, it is utterly breathtaking.  We hiked and swam and changed our brains forever.  Another night in Salem, OR with my sister, and then Coco and I met our third bestie Molly at the Gorge in Washington.  Dave Matthews does a three day concert series there every year on Labor day, and Molly is a tour manager who was working there that weekend.  We spend yesterday swimming in the Columbia River and hanging out backstage at the most incredible concert venue in the country.  

Today, I was up before the sun and sat on the edge of the river canyon, watching the sunrise and humming DM songs.  We hung out with Molly and the kids, caravan-ed to Seattle, and stopped by a sparkly lake for a swim to round out the trip. 

Tomorrow, I start at Childrens'.  I am exhausted but never happier.  I need to be here.  I also have been starting to think that maybe I do want to meet a dude and have a throng of screaming half-Asian babies in the more-near-than-far future, and maybe that dude should want to be in the NW, also?  So I should be here.  

I just reread all of this and cant believe how fucking wordy I am.  SORRY JOE, YOU ASKED FOR IT.  Let's still be friends even though if you've made it this far, you're probably so annoyed with me that you're currently online, trying to ruin my web reputation.  Leave those pics alone, JOE!

So that's the basic story.  Guess what.  I still have no idea what the hell I'm doing.  As is my life mantra, I have no answers.  Just balls.  

Love Love Love. 

Favorite Texts From Nick Lately.

People should know about these communications with my gay husband, no?

"You shall buy me a few drinks" - I left some stuff at his house when I visited over Easter weekend.  He mailed them to me, and this was his payment in lieu of.

"Peggy is about to get slapped" - Nick is a big deal attorney and he has a big deal secretary whom he only appreciates when I remind him to.  I don't know her name, we call her Peggy.

"Doing a juice cleanse, wish me luck" - I've been harping at him about smoothies and juice for years.  He's into it, now!

"I think I'm buying a Prius today.  I'm so gay." -Just the most precious angel I've ever known.

"Decided to get a much nicer one" -Now THAT'S the GAYdicator, amIright?!

I hope every guy and girl out there have a gay husband with which to correspond in such love. 

My Superclose Cousin Ren

What if....

the way Renee Zellwegger looks....

....is the most elaborate Asian joke there ever was??

I mean, I am as genetically Asian as a girl can get, and I still have to squint in order to impersonate her.

You think she is just sitting at her house, laughing at how no one has accused her of it yet?  She just traipses around Hollywood with those slanty-ass eyes, booking those white girl roles and subliminally bragging to the real Asian girls??  If this is true, it's genius.  Evil genius, but brilliant nonetheless.  

I Cut the Power.

SO, for all of you unaware out there, let me just explain to you a little bit about Being an Asian Girl:  

{illustrated by me, all rights reserved. ha.}

We are not known for our bodacious bods.  The truth is, the bust and butt of my clothing is often full of nothing but air, and my beach looks can only be described as "She Might Be Carrying a Load Back There/Hey Diaper Butt".

So we can't share closets with Beyonce, and sometimes our bodies are compared to that of 12 y.o little boys.  But hey, we have HAIR.

{photo source}

Every gal has her source of power, and for us slantys, it's usually all tied up in our shiny straight locks.  It's always sleek, grows like crazy, and requires no de-frizzing.  As long as my hair is clean, it's done.

Well, then I went and did this:

I cut off my source of power.  What can I say, it was a crutch.  Now I really have no physical feminine wiles to display; I'm gonna have to be liked for my personality.  Gulp.  I can't even pretend like I had the idea; I was only inspired when I sat down in Coco's chair for my usual reshape and she asked if we should really just do it.  

Well of course we should!  After all, the benefit of taking risks is usually not in the result of taking it, but in the practice of rocking your nerves, ya know?  I wasn't so much interested in having short hair; I just wanted to make myself feel weird about it so that I can continue learning to tolerate feeling weird.

Let me tell you, I sure ain't gettin fat with this haircut.  Having above-chin hair means that you lose the option of having a supple neck and face.  I just keep remembering that if I get fluffy, I might look like this guy:

{photo source)

                                                     .......and thereby lose powers completely.  Double Gulp.

A Vulcan's Nipples are like Humans.

This is why LA is so cool for twentysomethings, and way too cool for kids: when you go see the new StarTrek film on opening weekend at your neighborhood landmark theatre, your ticket gets ripped by Spock, crazy nipples and all.  Such a tender moment.

So My Husband has a Boyfriend.

{Here we are, watching his BF Aaron do yardwork}

Hey Gals!  Unattached with no prospects?  Yearning for male company without the threat of sexual exploitation?  You need a Gay Husband.  My Gay Husband is the best and I bet you want to know why:

1. He likes to do most everything I like to do.  We love to travel, hike, eat great food, ride bikes, gossip about all of the crazy bitches we knew in college, and argue over which men are more attractive than other men.  
2. He's super handy to have around.  When we went to Peru together, he knew enough Spanish that I never had to worry about getting voluntarily sold into slavery through language barrier induced miscommunications. 
3. He claims he doesn't want kids, but I know he would spoil the crap out of mine.
4. His sister is the same age as my sister, so the "This is the Annoying Thing my Sister is Doing Lately" conversations are basically endless. 
5. He'll tell me when I'm being a dumb wench, and I need that.  I tell him when he's being a snobby brat.  He needs that, too.  

Our Math was Always Wrong.

{circa 2001}

{circa three days ago, 2013}

Well aren't these two a pair?!  Terry Lynn and I have been basically inseparable since 9th grade, when we were paired to learn Trigonometry together.  I admit that I still don't know the difference between sines, cosines, and tangents (BAD BAD ASIAN), but I definitely ended that year with a new best friend.  Since then, we have been through:

1.  Three full length NSYNC albums (No Strings, Home for Christmas, and Celebrity), and all subsequent solo ventures by Justin Timberlake
2.  .....the heartbreak when Lance Bass came out.  He was our fave!
3. The sensation of her epic 16th birthday party.  Everyone at school came, I wore platform white sneakers, she was the belle.
4. Both of us leaving our tiny little private Christian high school, in favor of public funding to head straight to Eastern Wash U for our Jr and Sr years of high school.  We got in lots of trouble.
5. Both of us getting arrested at 4am on the side of a highway during the first snow of the year.  She was indignant, I was devastated that my political career was then over before it ever started or I had ever wanted one.
6. A few engagements to the wrong dude on her part, a few terrible dating stories on my part.
7. A period where we couldn't even like each other, and basically only communicated through our maintained relationship with her mom, whom we always shared no matter what.
8. A reunion and a shared apartment as full on post-grad adults.  Frequent congratulations to each other and reassurances that we already knew Everything.
9.  The birth of my goddaughter. When she told me, "Soooooooo, we have something to tell you...", I snorted and barked "what, you guys are pregnant."  Isn't that such a sweet story?
10. Seeing each other less and less, as I started to run around the country and world more and more.....
11. Picking up right where we left off, every single time.
12. Getting fat (see multiple chins in first photo)
13. Getting fit (see single chin in second photo)
14. Showing her that old photo and she groans, "I see why my mom kept telling me my eyebrows were too thin....."
15. Watching her finally meet the Guy, sighing with relief that he's not like All the Others.
16. ..... and in November, standing beside her as she marries that dude!  I bet I won't even cry.

oh NO.

Mom at age 24.  As endless as my ability to squawk about how I am my own person, that the Chinese people DO have variations in their faces and I'm so much more a evolved human than any other Fresh Off the Boat immigrant.... there's no denying that that's my nose up there.  and chin.  and ears.  Grooooooaaaaann.

I Spelled Sequoia.

I finally got my ass into the mountains and camped in California!  Over Memorial Day weekend, a few lovelies and I wound our way into the Sequoia National Forest for a few days of gourmet camp food, fireside singalongs (no, we really did that), and fricken freezing nights.  We had brilliant sun during the day, but the nights were below freezing.  I slept in two pairs of socks, my Uggs, a sleeping bag, and a heavy blanket.  At an altitude of 5500 feet, I guess that's fair.  It felt so great to get out of LA for just a minute, and reestablish that I am totally the kind of girl that can poop in the woods and like it.  Dirtball for life!  Fellas, please make an orderly line and leave your gifts at the door.