MAB
So after much convincing from my sister, I went to my Doctor today because I’ve had a cough (only at night) and it makes me roll around in my bed because of the force of the hack. My Doctor is a great guy, he’s adorable, informative, Chinese, and totally gay. After some poking around my nose and throat, he told me that I had cobble throat. “Is that the strain of Mono you get after making-out with a Hobbit?”
Apparently not. It’s an allergic reaction to something. He says it’s either a change I have made in my lifestyle or it is seasonal. Then he asked me, “how old are you?” I told him that I was 28 and he nodded, “yeah, so you’re at that age now.” I’m at what age now? What the fuck does that mean? I’m at that age now where I cough like a smoker due to chronic emphysema?
He says that I will have to go on 2 types of medication, an inhaler (I already have one for my asthma and I chucked that out the window years ago) and a nasal spray. The inhaler I should be using everyday and the nasal spray for the rest of my life for 6 months out of the year which is when allergy season ends.
I had to ask myself 2 questions. One, what did cavemen do before Flonase hit the market? And two, how much does Pfizer bankroll in profit each year during allergy season? There are people in this city who are doing more blow than the amount of snow that covers the entire North Pole with their sinuses still in tact and I have to inhale Flucticasone Furoate every night?????!?!?!?!?! I just don’t think that is fair.
As my doctor was leaning over and writing my prescription on his Rx pad, I couldn’t help but frown and wished in the back of my heart that he was really penning me a prescription for vicodin.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Hello. So today is an interesting day for me. I’m in a funky mood but it’s not a bad one nor a good one and there is something about it that is very relaxing, best part is, it’s not self medicated induce. Maybe it’s a “calming before the storm” sort of thing. Also, my head is churning with thoughts of Brian Molko, Edward from New Moon, and this amazing Justice remix of MGMT’s Electric Feeling that I heard while on the bus this morning. I’m also drinking the Chelsea Blend today which always shifts me from mental meandering to deep introspection. And when there is deep introspection, there is always, always, an accompanying mood.
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1. anything that Aleta makes
2. pumpkins
3. avocado
4. Mango curry
5. Coconut in all it’s glorious forms
6. Cacao
7. Hot Chocolate, particularly, mint hot chocolate or mexican hot chocolate.
8. Chai spices
9. Basil and Pesto on my pizza
10. The garlic bread from Bucca di Pippo (how is that spelled?)
11. Walker’s shortbread
12. Ice cream sandwiches
13. Rose flavored Gelato
14. Brussel Cookies
15. Russian Tea Cakes
16. Deviled Eggs
17. The Peanut butter moo’d at Jamba Juice
18. Fish Filet sandwich at McDonalds
19. The honey mustard sauce they have at McDonalds
20. The veggie Burger at the Irish Bank
21. Ahi Poke Bowl at Pacific Catch
22. The Volcano Roll at Sushi Rock
23. Lyche Martinis
24. witbieren
25. Koeningshoeven, dubbel
26. Creme brule
27. Salads with pears and roquette
28. Lauren’s apple pie
29. Pansit canton NOT bihon
30. Sinigang
31. Bi bam bop
32. kimchi
33. ravioli
34. lemon drop martinis
35. filtered saki
36. beaujolais wine
37. stinky cheeses
38. Lara’s mom’s ginger tea
39. Trader Joe’s bedtime tea
40. Tom yum soup
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It’s hard to be a “man lover” when you don’t have to look far in one’s life to see incident after incident that validates your loss of faith in the majority of our friends, the male sex. What is it exactly that encourages them to sexually proposition you AFTER you’ve said “no.”
It’s like the first word you learn as an infant?
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I’ve been spending time with someone who, I think, is pretty amazing. I am completely engaged in the adventures that we have, the very late nights where I see the sunrise due to hours of cupcakes, the constant reminder that there is a world outside my cubicle, and that how we treat each other, matters.
In the tradition of all things moi, it is without a doubt, tongue and cheek. What is also very traditional is the fear of rejection. I don’t know if I knew it at the time, but Adrian accepted me for all that I am and the Muffin, well, it felt like he rejected all that I was. But what is nice to know is that I’m not that person anymore, I’m less afraid, less naive, and more grateful for the things that surround me. I’d much rather be rejected for me than to be accepted, temporarily, for someone else’s impression of me.
To be honest, I care less about what the future will bring, I care less if I’m good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, and successful enough. I care more about the moments, I mean, isn’t that what life really is at the end of the day? Just a bunch of moments and what we take from them?
Unfortunately I am at a quandary, I’m still behind the glass, I still revel a lot in the distance, and I’m not sure if my past experiences have softened or hardened me. Whateva… I can tell you this, I’m saying a lot more “yes” and a lot less “no’s” and forcefully, I’m trying my best to not use my shyness as a crutch and to speak up for myself so that I can be myself, whomever she may be 
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“Emotions are the mind’s near-instantaneous evaluation of a perceived fact or idea as either good or bad for the individual.” -unknown
Have you ever mulled a question in your mind and then something independent of those thoughts occur to answer that question?
Have you ever felt like someone was smoking so much crack that they failed to notice that the blank look on your face is actually a retort?
At least pumpkins are in season!
“But there are some people, a small percentage of people, who organize their every waking moment around music. They give up relationships over it, pass on decent food & housing in order to afford it, and they rarely talk or think or dream about anything else.” -Angela
She’s very right.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Home Decor, Minimalism, San Francisco, Scandinavian, Storage, The Container Store
I appreciate minimalism. I agree with the Scandinavian sensibility and moderate temperment.They say that when the eye has less objects in a space to take in, it relays that back to the brain and conveys a sense of calm. But this week, as I unpacked my things to put them in the smallest closet I have eva had to date, I felt sad and crammed.
Thursday night, I ran into a random store on Market and purchased the first container I saw and then ran out! When I got home, the container did not fit into my nightstand! I returned said container.
Today at The Container Store, I committed to remedying this cramming situation. Ironically, this store is sorta self-defeating? It creates more space in your space so that you can purchase more shit?!?!?! It’s not like you’re going to contain yourself from purchasing more things? I stood in one isle for what seemed like an hour, staring and touching baskets and boxes. I’d take one off of the shelf and then place it back where it was. Frustrated, I paced back and picked it up again. I felt dizzy, there were sooooo many containers. I went up to the second floor where they have “containers for things that do not need” containers and I thought about how neat the things were and then I came back down the second floor.
After laboring for another twenty minutes back in the box isle over price and color. I went with the container that was functional, collapses, and minimal in design, but ultimately, the reason I chose this container was simple, the texture of the canvas.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Gossip Girl, relationship, Romance, Sex and the City, Television
All week long, I have been consuming large quantities of television. And like anything addictive, at it’s height, television is like crack. In the back of your head you know that it’s not the best consumption of your time, but you’re willing to settle for a mediocre high because it requires minimal effort, a sense of escapism, and a warped version of reality you wish would just magically fall into place in the course of 30 minutes.
One thing I love about television is that men tend to be on the same “emotional plane” as women; especially those who are romantically involved in relationships. Television also reinforces and fullfills the fantasy that if women are persistent enough, they can change a man. It provides structure and order to many of life’s grand quandaries. It’s like western religion without the side serving of guilt and obligations.
Let’s take Gossip Girl for example! Chuck Bass, once the un-amicable commit-a-phobe, couldn’t keep it in your pants for two seconds, waking up in bed with two girls narcissist, is now a docile, castrated, tenderhearted cuddly bear that has stay ins with his girlfriend and that is “one” girlfriend. All this after watching Blair pursue, not pursue, demand, not demand, widdle and dwindle for 2 whole seasons!!!
And lastly, Sex and the City. What did we all learn from that? That if you let a man yarn you along using only his wit and charm, treat you like shit for 5 years, and leave you at the alter, you will get your Happily Ever After.
