Usually when I'm chatting online with friends and I get bored I'll ask them to tell me a story, and to make it a good one. Stat. Usual responses include I had a ham sandwich today/ I got no stories or *fart*. But on this occasion, I actually got a good story from a very creative one Mark Hauge:
this one time there was this girl and she was named nimdy karp and she really liked fishing for carp so everyone at school called her the fish lady and she usually smelled bad but one day after school she went to the fish market and of course she went straight to the carp section and one of the carp talked to her and said "don't be afraid of your heritage, you are truly a karp" and she's like no, my family came from carp island, home of the carps then nimdy realized she switched her c and her k and made the mistake of disagreeing with the talking carp which actually meant she AGREED with the carp so she went to carp island and asked father karp if her last name was really carp, and not karp and then he says "nimdy... your true name is..." MINDY PARK you are actually park and then mindy grew up and children climbed all over her and swang on her swing sets because that's what parks do and she lived happily ever after actually she wasn't alive she was a park, by the way this has nothing to do with you end scene fade to black
I have to say this is a simple story, but one of the best I've gotten from anyone, especially right on the spot. It reminds me old korean fables I used to hear as a child. And of course anything about myself is always a hoot. Expect an illustrated version of this tale to come soon.
I had to take the kimchi bucket out for a walk today. I say walk bc the bucket's so big, it might as well have sprouted legs. I didn't tell him where we were goin'. He'd been in the fridge since my folks and relatives came to visit and hadn't seen the light of day since they left. He was however, starting to make his presence known olfactorily and it had to be stopped.
Talking to the H&R block lady for 2 hours today about my new foray into the wonderful world of freelance, brought me back to nights of endless math with dad. When I was a kid, my dad used to keep me up way past my bedtime until I got all 50 of his math problems correct. One slight mistake and 50 new ones appeared underneath my sleepy drool as I struggled to pry my shutting eyes open. My mom would plead him to let me go to sleep but he showed no mercy. Not that Judy, the tax specialist was giving me math problems but just trying to follow along as she whipped out percentages and expense estimations was enough to make my back arch with intimidation and unease. Judy was more patient with me and answered my same questions 5 times over and then the 6th time when I asked it again 10 minutes later. I hate math. And I hate figuring out taxes. But I guess it's all apart of being an adult. And as a part of being an adult, I allowed myself to go to the GAP and buy myself a sweater afterward.
Since I've been at my new job, I've been a frequenter at Starbucks. Once in the morning and once in the afternoon. I don't even drink coffee really, but like my co-worker, I also like to buy stuff. It's crazy how much I go there and it's shameful how many used cups are currently sitting at my desk. I'm seriously thinking about getting those faux starbucks plastic cups. Fun story, I know.
This week I've been trying unsuccessfully to get a co-worker to listen to This American Life podcasts with me. He wasn't biting so I gave up. (I realize the older I get, the less time I spend trying to get people to care about something and how awesome it is. It's not worth it, I can spend my time better blogging about my realizations instead). But anyhoo, it made me think about some of my favorite episodes from the past. I think I've listened to every episode from when I used to work at a place where I needed lots of good stories to get myself through the day. I remembered one episode where they had recorded a story at Lula Cafe about restaurant tipping. So I revisited that one again today; I had forgotten that there's another hilarious story in the same episode called Allure of the Mean Friend. It's just golden. Both stories actually sorta tie into my recent entry about how being a bitch will make you seem more powerful. I'll post the link here in case you want to listen to it. Acts 1 & 2: HERE
Been hanging out with a lot of girlfriends lately. And in talking with them, a lot of theories I've had have only been strengthened by validation from these like minds. Here's a couple:
1. #2s (younger sisters) know the importance of being inclusive and the significance of remembering stupid little details like who you saw that movie with or what stance you took in that one convo 2 years ago. And it's not because we're sad sensitive boobs; it's because as little sisters, we know what it feels like to be shafted and steam rolled. And we want to make sure that doesn't happen to others.
2. You have to be a bitch to gain a little respect and build a sense of intrigue about you. This is especially true in the workplace. When you're bitchy, you get what you want and people are scared of you. Even more so, they want to be on your side and be friends with you. This only works though if you're good looking. Otherwise you're just a bitch. In short, the witchier you are, the faster and further ahead you get.
It's shameful, but I haven't read a book in a long while. Yesterday, I was reading something online and I found myself having to sound out a word a tad longer that I felt comfortable. It wasn't even a big word but it did have a lot of syllables. I started fearing that I'm forgetting how to read. I'd been scanning book review lists and wanted to pick out a good one. But it's been so long and I don't feel that I want to commit to any one just yet; I think I need to ease into it. So today I picked up some magazines because as we know, magazines have more pictures.
Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam...
My sister's getting married this weekend and I'm very excited for her. I hope to see all these months of planning and stress pimples finally pay off and that she has the best wedding EVAH. Above is a picture of my folks on their big day.