If it's not FREE, at least it's AWESOME

The Supreme Court heard oral arguments today regarding a First Amendment free speech case that involved the banner above. OMG. These kids are AWESOME!

Here's the skinny:

The case involves Joseph Frederick, a then 18-year-old high school senior in Alaska who was suspended for 10 days after displaying a "Bong Hits 4 Jesus" banner across the street from his high school during the Winter Olympics Torch Relay in 2002. When he and his friends displayed the banner, then-principal Deborah Morse ran across the street and seized it. Morse initially suspended Frederick for five days for violating the school district's anti-drug policy, but increased the suspension to 10 days after he refused to give the names of his fellow participants and quoted Thomas Jefferson on free speech.

Again, this kid is AWESOME.

Does he look like a mastermind to you?

The FBI just reported that Khalid Sheikh Mohammed confessed to "masterminding" the 9/11 attacks and other awful atrocities including beheading American journalist Daniel Pearl. His statement was made after FOUR YEARS of illegal detainment (and interrogation and torture) in Guantanamo Bay.

I don't know. Seems dubious to me.

Yet another 10 year anniversary

Today marks the 10th anniversary of Biggie's death. He was gunned down on the corner of Fairfax and Wilshire, only a couple of blocks from where I reside, after attending a Soul Train Music Awards after-party at the Peterson Automotive Museum. I believe the LAPD has yet to resolve the case and determine his murderer(s).

I remember hearing the news that day and feeling sad. Biggie was one of the best hip hop lyricists EVER. Whether you're a hip hop fan or not, no true music aficionado's collection is complete without Biggie's "Ready to Die." At the ripe age of 24, Biggie's death is a monumental loss in hip hop. No one has even come close to the talents this man had. His legacy remains.

Happy International Women's Day!

(Please note that I started this post on the date indicated above but sadly was too busy to finish it. Don't get confused, ok? I don't want you going around wishing women a happy day and looking foolish and ignorant. You should have done that last Thursday, though it's a good thing to greet someone in the spirit of feminism. Anyway, thank you for your patience.)

To my Sisters in the struggle, this is OUR day. You are special and beautiful, and DYY loves you very much. So shine, bitches, shine!

In celebration of OUR day, a group of my female friends (including Tron, of course) and I went to check out Andrea Zittel's CRITICAL SPACE exhibit at the MOCA Geffen Contemporary. She's the featured artist of WACK! Art and the Feminist Revolution, the latest big exhibition at MOCA. I attended the member's party last Saturday. Le Tigre was dj'ing and they were cool and all but it was fucken crazy crowded and we had to wait in line for a long while before we were allowed to enter the museum to see the exhibition. To my chagrin (since I don't do lines anymore, well, not those types of lines), most of the art and artists were uninspiring... EXCEPT Andrea Zittel who is amazing and is my absolute favorite artist at the moment. Seriously, I wish I could be her.

Andrea was even better and more inspiring the second time around. I encourage everyone to check out her exhibit. You will be in awe.

For a far better description, check out her biography here. But this is why I adore her: She incorporates art in her everyday life and challenges that life with her art. She pushes our conception and construction of time and physical space. For example, she would create these tiny living spaces that incorporate a bedroom, bathroom, or whatever, and maximize the space so that every inch is utilitarian and functional, yet super designy and modern... so when you look at it, you think to yourself, damn this space is small, but I think I can live like this because everything looks so cute and comfortable.

Did you know that many of her structures can be folded into a trunk (which I had not noticed the first time)? Not only does she challenge the fallacy that bigger is better, she also believes in self-sustainable living and makes all her own very stylish clothes, furniture and architecture.

I am once again inspired to learn how to sew! I wish I knew how to make cool shit. Since her exhibit, I have also been thinking philosophically about my own lifestyle and my perpetual quest to downsize and minimize in order to truly expand and maximize. It's a struggle, man... but I've come to realize that the creativity and adaptivity that derives from such a struggle is really amazing and quite fulfilling. It's a natural high.

I can really go on and on about Andrea's pieces as she's quite prolific and diverse. But I know I'm not doing her any justice so visit her website for a glimpse of her genius. By the way, Andrea's a part-time resident of Joshua Tree and creates a majority of her art and conducts experiments there. Now do you see why I want to be this bitch?

Reunions

I generally have no interest in reunions organized by academic institutions. Cared less about my high school and college ones. Didn't even know when they occurred. Definately not going to my law school one. In fact, I try to avoid communication altogether with my law school, but they always seem to successfully track my place of employment (it's the California Bar's fault) and send me endless information via US and electronic mail. Once in a while, they call me at work... probably to solicit a donation that, haven't they realized, I will NEVER give because I FUCKEN HATE THEM? Fortunately, I have an assistant who screens all my calls. Just the other day, I advised her that when I receive mail from UCLAW, immediately throw it in the recycler. Thank you.

But this posting isn't about how much I despise UCLAW though I can go on and on.

This past weekend, the Asian American Studies Program at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign celebrated its 10th anniversary. This means that a little shy of 10 years ago, Asian American Studies did not exist at U of I. And since I graduated a little shy of 10 years ago (fuck!), I unfortunately was not a benefactor. Nor were my friends:

"Old Skool Gang" circa 1997

Asian Pacific Islanders were (and probably still are) the largest minority group on campus, yet we were the only racial minority group that lacked a formal orientation program, a studies program and a cultural center. The administration labled us an "overrepresented minority."

A fucken oxymoron, that's what we were.

Despite relentless demands to the contrary, we were often ignored and silenced. It wasn't fair and definately discriminatory. But we students persisted, and learned to be creative and self-reliant.

Ms. Vida (far right female pictured above) created a formal orientation program for new Asian American students called "Asiantation" that I believe continues today. We created our own alumni networks; scholarship/mentorship/award programs; cultural and political events; and leadership/activism conferences. We struggled to build coalitions and a collective consciousness among myriad API groups, all of which we felt obligated to assume leadership roles. Like Tupac said, it's all about you. And truly it was all about us, as it was clearly evident that U of I didn't give a shit about API students.

Despite not having a formal program, I believe there were two "trial" classes in my four years of attendence and I took both. One was an introductory course to Asian American history taught by a wonderful Filipina graduate student. My final paper was about Asian American beauty (or was it stereotypes in Asian beauty?). I also took an Asian American literature class. I don't recall the professor, but I do remember the small intimate class and how we really enjoyed such a unique space for class discussions. Dude, you have to check out the AAS courses now. I am so jealous.

Needless to say, I really wanted to attend this reunion. It wasn't possible for me, though a few of us did attend and reported back. The stories and pictures seem amazing, almost unbelievable that the students now have a full-fledged, university-sponsored studies program AND cultural center. At the same time, I can't believe we didn't have these services in the fairly recent past, and how API students across the nation protested and struggled and engaged in hunger strikes, just so that they could formally learn about our people's history and contributions in America.

Lastly, Vida said something in her very detailed report to us that is very important:

"One thing I said during the [alumni roundtable] panel was that I recall many of us said we would not donate money to the University for as long as: 1) there was no AA Studies; 2) there was no AA Cultural Center; 3) there was the Chief*. Well folks, as of a couple weeks ago, all those barriers have been removed. If you want you can donate to the Cultural Center and Studies Program - tax deductible. Asian American Alumni Network is working on clearing their tax deductible status. Also, I know that we’ve all thrown around the idea of possibly creating a scholarship. Now would be a possible time to start discussing that more?"

Well, I'm sure you can guess which institution will be giving me my next tax-deduction. GO ILLINI!

*OMG. Can you believe that about the Chief? I would have never imagined in my wildest dreams that U of I was gonna give up Chief Illiniwek and its retrograde racist ways. Thank god. Welcome to 2007 yo.

I'm doing it

It's official. Starting today for two months, I am now a lacto-ovo-pesco vegetarian. Excuse the latin. It means I still eat dairy, eggs and seafood. But no beef, pork, chicken, duck, etc. Blu-tooth has also decided to do this with me, but she's going to be strictly vegetarian. I'm actually excited and feel confident that it will not be difficult. I hope.

In preparation of the big day, I ate bacon all last weekend and had Korean BBQ for lunch yesterday. I had wanted to eat tacos from my favorite taco truck last night but Tron made dinner instead and made sure to include lots of meat. Of course that's how he regularly cooks.

Some have asked, why? Why forgo and deny myself the foods of the Gods? Besides the fact that vegetarianism is a more sustainable way of living, I'm just not interested in eating hormone-induced, genetically modified meats anymore. And I'm definately not going to eat cloned meats. So my goal is to try it for a couple of months to see how difficult it would be, if at all. I think it may be easier than we all think.

Why I Love Blacks

Dude, I was near USC tonight and saw that Inferno Affairs is playing at the Magic Johnson Theaters for late Friday and Saturday shows. This is why I love black people... because they appreciate Hong Kong gangster movies. And kung fu movies. And shrimp fried rice.

I say this in light of a recent opinion piece written by Kenneth Eng in Asian Week entitled, "Why I Hate Blacks."

It's pretty awful. But I'm more stunned and dismayed that Asian Week, a fairly political and (once) respected Asian American publication in the Bay Area, actually permitted the publication of Eng's piece. Sure, Asian Week issued an apology. But I think it's too late. Asian Week is fucked.

My first heavy metal concert

As a social experiment, I agreed to accompany Pure White to see the following bands:



Can you believe it? It was actually fun. Here are my keen observations:

1) Heavy metal enthusiasts have perfected the head nodding as well as the devil's horn hand sign.

I wish I could easily whip out a devil's horn sign but it's not instinctual for me. I actually have to think about it. And the head nodding... dude, who said white people don't have any rhythm? They do when they jam to heavy metal, that's for sure. But I do worry for their brains... all that nodding, especially the head twirl, cannot be good for the preservation of brain cells. For true enthusiasts, I recommend fish oil pills before attending a concert. Also, ear plugs are key.

2) Speaking of devil's horns, is that why every lead singer sounds like Satan? I'm sure it's no coincidence that Lamb of God sung a song entitled, "Take a Walk with Me in Hell."

3) There were only like ten women in attendence. When Pure White and I arrived at the Wiltern, I was the only person in the women's security line and had to wait for Jeff to be cleared. The lead singer of Machine Head also made a comment about naked heavy metal chicks... all 17 of us. Ironically, despite the lack of female presence, I still had to wait in line at the women's bathroom!

4) Mosh pits are fascinating. There's a certain synchronicity to the hyper-aggressive ritual. At first glance, it seems violent and scary. But after a while, you realize that, what all those stupid boys are doing is simply pushing each other in circles. I now see that moshing is actually a form of dance. In fact, I couldn't stop watching it from above. What's even more intriguing is whenever someone from the audience began to body surf on top of the crowd, the big black body guards in the front row would immediately stop it. Yet they never stopped the moshing. So it made me think that the Wiltern's liability insurance probably doesn't cover negligent falls from body surfing. Injuries from moshing, however, are probably cheaper to insure. God, I get sick when I realize how much I think like a lawyer.

Overall, my first heavy metal concert was enjoyable. I don't know if I would go again, but I'm glad I went. Thanks, Pure White!

Kind of bogus

The Academy yet again for the second year in a row chose the wrong picture for BEST PICTURE. I acknowledge that The Departed is a good film. And, yes, I enjoyed it very much. But is it really Oscar worthy when it's a RE-MAKE of a very well-known Hong Kong movie, INFERNAL AFFAIRS?

To me, The Departed seems less authentic and, therefore, less Oscar worthy. Also, Martin Scorsese pretty much copied the original movie scene for scene. Do you remember the last scene of Leonardo shot dead with the elevator door continuously trying to close but is blocked by Leonardo's feet? In the original, that's Tony Leung dead on the floor with his feet blocking the elevator door.

And yes, in the original, almost everyone dies by the end. I don't understand why everyone was so pleased that everyone dies in The Departed. They're like, wow, that's so original. I'm like, dude, that's how most Hong Kong action movies end. Big fucken deal. You better recognize.

I know what you're thinking... copying a good movie would still make a good movie, right? Perhaps. But Infernal Affairs is better because the directors as well as the actors were able to more accurately capture and convey the deep psyche of Cantonese cops and gangsters-- that (1) we, as complex human beings, are both good and bad at the same time and must struggle with that daily, especially when you're undercover, and (2) don't trust anyone, especially when you're undercover. I think Scorsese tried to convey this but it just wasn't enough. This blogger agrees with me, while this blogger actually gives a detailed side-by-side comparison of both movies.

Although I do not believe that The Departed is Oscar worthy, I think it's cool that Scorsese won. Poor old man, it's about time he wins!*

*Too bad for Peter O'Toole though. He was EXCELLENT in Venus, but I still rooted for Forest Whitaker, who was also EXCELLENT in The Last King of Scotland. It's kind of like how I rooted for Ruben Studdard over Clay Aiken even though both were pretty damn good. That's just the way life goes, I suppose.

It's on!

I don't normally just cut and paste but this one is so good... and by one of my favorite bloggers (a guilty pleasure)... the gossip gangsta himself, PEREZ HILTON:

That little muckraker!

Movie mogul David Geffen has stirred up a whirlwind of trouble in the Democratic party as a result of these comments he made in The New York Times about former President Bill Clinton and his wife Hilary.

Said Geffen, "Everybody in politics lies, but they [the Clintons] do it with such ease, it's troubling."

He added, "I don't think anybody believes that in the last six years, all of a sudden Bill Clinton has become a different person..

According to Geffen, Bill Clinton is "a reckless guy" who "gave his enemies a lot of ammunition to hurt him and to distract the country."

And as for Hilary? He says, "It's not a very big thing to say, 'I made a mistake' on the war, and typical of Hillary Clinton that she can't. She's so advised by so many smart advisers who are covering every base. I think that America was better served when the candidates were chosen in smoke-filled rooms."

He wasn't done with her yet, though.

More on Hilary!

Says Geffen, "Not since the Vietnam War has there been this level of disappointment in the behavior of America throughout the world, and I don't think that another incredibly polarizing figure, no matter how smart she is and no matter how ambitious she is -- and God knows, is there anybody more ambitious than Hillary Clinton? -- can bring the country together."

Not happy at all, Hilary's spokesperson released a statement criticizing both Geffen and Senator Barak Obama, Clinton's chief campaign rival and the recipient of a lot of money from Dreamworks' David.

Said the statement, "While Sen. Obama was denouncing slash and burn politics yesterday, his campaign's finance chair was viciously and personally attacking Sen. Clinton and her husband. If Sen. Obama is indeed sincere about his repeated claims to change the tone of our politics, he should immediately denounce these remarks, remove Mr. Geffen from his campaign and return his money. While Democrats should engage in a vigorous debate on the issues, there is no place in our party or our politics for the kind of personal insults made by Sen. Obama's principal fundraiser."

Barack, not one to shy away from confrontation, shot back.

Obama countered, "It's not clear to me why I'd be apologizing for someone else's remark. I have said repeatedly I have the utmost respect for Sen. Clinton and have considered her an ally in the Senate and will continue to consider it that way throughout this campaign."

And, making things even nastier, Barack's spokesperson said the following, "We aren't going to get in the middle of a disagreement between the Clintons and someone who was once one of their biggest supporters. It is ironic that the Clintons had no problem with David Geffen when [he] was raising them $18 million and sleeping at their invitation in the Lincoln bedroom. It is also ironic that Sen. Clinton lavished praise on Monday and is fully willing to accept today the support of South Carolina state Sen. Robert Ford, who said if Barack Obama were to win the nomination, he would drag down the rest of the Democratic Party because 'he's black.'"

Oh, shit. It's on!

And, it's only gonna get nastier from here!

Update

Commercial Zap is the bomb. No scrubbing required and the mold disappeared. Poof. Died and shit.

Let's pause for a moment to thank the golden pig for such a blessing.

Year of the Golden Pig -- It's hot pot time!

The MakJueYee House hosted its annual Chinese New Year Hot Pot Extravaganza on Sunday in celebration of the Golden Pig. Unfortunately, due to poor planning, we didn't purchase a roasted piglet like we wanted to. Still, we did have:

The Pig, which we later fried up as bacon for snacking, thx to Chef Inda:


And for the first time ever, our very own FOB sauce table with an incense fruit plate to boot! Don't you love the table cloth? It's perfect for fob-ing it up. What's even more brilliant is that under the table cloth is a mah jong table!


We celebrated with old friends:








And new ones:




And we even hosted children:



And of course we had entertainment:






And the oddities:

WTF?

Umar cooking Chinese food (and it was real good too!)

Me and my neck pillow that I wear around the house,
especially when I'm blogging!

Happy New Year! Oink, bitch.

Year of the Golden Pig -- Hey Mon!

Red, Golden and Green were the colors of the day at Ragga Muffins' Bob Marley Fest in Long Beach on Saturday. An all-day music festival with ten reggae groups, authentic Jamaican food, shopping and herbal therapy. An excellent way to celebrate new years eve. Yeah, Mon!

Since it's the Year of the Golden Pig, it is hardly a coincidence that while listening to NPR this afternoon, I learned that reggae is huge in Beijing now (this was semi-confirmed by DBB who said the music scene in Beijing is hot) and that, like most things, reggae and China go way back.

More importantly, NPR introduced me to Wang Lei, an indie rocker/dub/reggae Guangzhou original. That's right, bitches, this mofo is Cantonese too... and he's excellent. I heard a bit of his reggae on the radio and I was forwarded by the sounds. Check out his website for a sample. If you can read Chinese, you can easily navigate the website. And if so, please send some sounds to me!

Year of the Golden Pig -- The Return of DBB

My dear comrade DBB returned to Los Skandelous from Shanghai last Thursday night. His first request upon arrival was for pho. So here we are at Pho LA in Koreatown.

Gong Hay Fat Choy!!

Happy New Year! It's the Year of the Golden Pig... a supposedly very special year filled with wealth and riches. So you know my people are geeked.

True to its myth, the year of the golden pig has already begun auspiciously. So filled with fun and fortune that I separated the stories from start of the new year in several parts... enjoy!

Oink, bitch.

Killer mold?

IT STARTED with a series of leaks. Within a year, Melinda Ballard's 11,500-square-foot Texas dream home was quarantined; her 3-year-old son, Reese, was on daily medication to treat scarred, asthmatic lungs; her husband, Ron Allison, had lost his memory along with his job; and the family was living out of suitcases and locked in a seemingly endless battle with their insurance company. The problem? Household mold.

So I convinced Lady Pun and Tron that we must clean the house before Chinese new year. For good luck and shit. And, you know, it would be nice to live a clean house for a change. Anyway, we have a really disgusting mold problem in our bathroom. An army of mold covers the shower ceiling and it's steadily proliferating in the corners of the walls. It's really gnarly. But I had no idea how deadly mold can be. I mean, I heard about killer mold but I never thought I would one day be the proprietor of toxic mold and not even realize it. In fact, I always thought it was some sort of strange urban myth... until Blu-tooth forwarded a variety of links about, not only the extermination of mold, but also extremely scary cautionary tales about how mold kills.

Not that I know for certain whether MY mold is deadly. Stachybotrys atra (pronounced Stack-ee-bot-ris) is the most lethal mold apparently. I hope I don't have that.

Per the recommendation of multiple sites about the subject, I'm going to buy either X-14 or Commercial Zap Mildew or Lime Away. All these products are reportedly "not environmental". Suggested eco-friendly product is vinegar mixed with a little bit of baking soda.

But I'm not making a salad.

ABC and proud!

Here's a video of my favorite freestyle rapper, Jin, who is so fucken talented. And he's Cantonese!!

I began to follow his career when he first appeared on BET's 106 & Park. He was a contestant of Free Style Friday and won seven weeks in a row and was inducted in the show's Hall of Fame because no one could beat his chinaman ass. He was unstoppable. That same night, Ruff Ryders signed Jin to their record label. For real, he's really good... especially when his freestyle opponents get racist and talk shit about him being Chinese, he spits back with greater force and wit. He's my idol.

Here's his latest (thanks Tron, for real!)... he raps in Cantonese about the beauty of being American Born Chinese. Represent, bitches!



PS. He's in LA Chinatown!

RIP: Anna Nicole Smith

Some people don't believe this, but I really like Anna Nicole. I was rooting for her from day one. She deserved all the money that her late husband bequeathed to her. The Anna Nicole show was hilarious. The whole Trim Spa thing was fascinating. She loved pills, and I loved how spacey she was on them. She didn't give a fuck. Anna Nicole is a classic superstar. I'm gonna miss her.

Here's a good article in the Houston Chronicle about her. It shares my complete sentiments.

Ride on the Peace Train

Check it. Word up, bitches.

Fuck Colts

Although I did not watch the Superbowl (I didn't even know the time it was on) and went shopping instead with Lady Pun to the Vintage Fashion Expo in Santa Monica (where we each bought beautiful fabulous purses!), I am writing with extreme sadness and regret that Da Beloved Bears had lost. They were a far better team and deserved to win. Not that I really know (or care) but loyalty is a requisite for Chicagoans. So the Colts can go fuck themselves.

Despite our loss, I am still proud of our team and our city. To pay tribute, I present to you fellow Chi-towners Kanye West and Common's Southside Superbowl. I guess no Superbowl Shuffle II this year so this will have to do. SOUTHSIDE!

Dedicated to all you coffee snobs

To all those who have scoffed at my preference for McDonald's coffee, check this:

Consumer Reports magazine said today that in a test conducted at two locations of each emporium, its tasters found McDonald's coffee to be "decent and moderately strong" with "no flaws." On the other hand, the Starbucks brew "was strong, but burnt and bitter enough to make your eyes water instead of open."

The March issue of the magazine, due out Monday, thus advises, "Try McDonald's, which was cheapest and best."

I am NOT promoting McDonalds. It is a disease, just like Starbucks. BUT to those coffee snobs who emphatically believe that Starbucks coffee is the best... Booyah!

Just another manic monday

I was suppose to see this riveting documentary after work. But Tron cancelled on me. For a woman, no less. And no one else seemed interested. I wonder why? For real, why? I think it's a pretty good concept and I'm always interested to see what those wacky Chinese villagers are up to.

So, instead, I ventured to the westside to check out this book reading by Norah Vincent, author of Self-Made Man.

In the book, Norah shares her journey of going undercover as a man for eighteen months. It's kind of like John Howard Griffin's Black Like Me, but unlike Griffin's book which totally confirmed why I hate white people, Norah's book actually exhibits sympathy for men. That's what the audience said anyway. And can I tell you how kooky the audience was! Thank god I had two cocktails at Houstons beforehand, thanks to my buddies Plus, Blu-Tooth and Michael! By the way, why is it so easy to get people to come out for drinks than see a documentary about newly-empowered Chinese villagers with access to modern digital freedom? Fucken drunks.

So back to the audience. Although I was impressed with the diversity of the group, in terms of race, gender and sexual orientation, you could tell most of the folks were academics. And why is it that before an academic asks a question in a public forum, he or she must provide complete disclosure of his/her identity?

I am a middle-class African American lesbian of color born and raised in the melting pot of Los Angeles with an abusive alcoholic father and albino mother and a cat with three legs.

Are you fucken serious? Just ask your stupid question, please. But no.

I was raised as an Orthodox Jew but studied eastern philosophy at a community college and now I perform accupunture on people who are frightened to leave their homes and I find it very rewarding and... oh, I forgot my question.

Then these two ladies get into a heated debate with an obnoxious straight Asian male, a Latino guy, and a gay white man (sounds like I'm starting a joke, huh?) about the differences between hetero-male sexuality and gay-male sexuality. This went on for a while. Poor Norah.

Truth be told, much of it was interesting despite the annoying personalities. Norah made one statement that made me ponder: "The one thing that prevents heterosexual men from freely engaging in polygamous relationships is... the woman." Norah admitted that her statement is an overgeneralization but true in many cases. I've been thinking a lot about monogamy lately and I'm not so sure if it works either, particularly in our day and age when marriage is no longer a necessity of life.

Don't get me wrong. I value partnerships. But why can't you have partnerships with multiple people, especially when it's unlikely that one person will be your everything? Why should you compromise and have less than everything you deserve and desire? Why settle on one person who has only half of everything when two halves make a whole?

You know, four fourths make a whole too.

Gee. Things that make you go hmm.

A little chalk goes a long way

The works of Vija Celmins is showcased at the Armand Hammer Museum between now and April 22, 2007. Her works are mostly graphite (chalk) on acrylic ground on paper and includes exquisite details of her delicate renderings of lunar, ocean, and desert surfaces as well as clouds, galaxies, and nocturnal skies. Her pieces look like black and white photographs. She's that good. It's really amazing live and up-close.

Beware of becoming a garden lady

This morning, Pure White and I volunteered at a community garden at a middle school in the westside. Since I am interested in learning to grow vegetables this year, I thought that volunteering at a community garden would be a nice introduction to gardening in general.

Well, I was wrong. It's kind of like how I thought working as a Project Assistant at a big corporate law firm would be a good introduction to law school. It's not. Fortunately, I only committed to one morning of gardening versus the full year at Jenner & Block where my spirit suffocated.

We were asked to pull weeds. And not the type of weeds I am accustomed to.

It was cool and all but I like the weeds. They are living creatures too and should have an opportunity to survive, just like the rest of the plants. But Pure White said that if we allow the weeds to live, the other plants will die. I suppose so. I'm just not comfortable playing God. So I kept Pure White company while he rigorously weeded an entire section. Check it out:

I was impressed by Pure White's vigor... and a bit fearful too. I had no idea how much he enjoyed rolling around in dirt.

Pure White said pulling weeds reminds him of his childhood when he played with dirt all the time. Now I understand why he often refers to himself as Dirty Jeff. This whole time I thought the moniker was figurative. Again, I stand corrected.

We did agree to Beware of Becoming A Garden Lady if we do decide to continue volunteering or developing our own gardens. Here is a sample conversation I had with the coordinator aka Garden Lady:

GL: Don't you love these plants?

DYY: Yes, I do. Hey, am I pulling the right weeds?

GL: We planted them last year. The leaves are wilting because of the crazy weather, but they are still doing well.

DYY: Uh huh. Hey, where do we throw away these weeds?

GL: If only the school allowed me to do what I want with this space. It wouldn't look like this. (And she walks away talking to herself)

She later returned and asked me to plant these two succulents. Yes! This is what I'm talking about. Giving life, not taking it away!

Sweet, huh? But planting only took two minutes to do. So here I am entertaining myself while I waited for Pure White/Dirty Jeff to complete his labor:

Whatever it is, I suffered emotional distress (and should be made whole)

Readers, I have suffered a great ordeal. This past Tuesday, while eating canned tuna fish, I inadvertently consumed what appeared to be tiny shards of broken glass. Upon inspection of the tuna, I found three more pieces.

By the way, the tuna can originally belonged to Tonkhero. Prior to his extended backpacking trip over the summer, he gave me his leftover canned foods and other provisions. Thanks, Tonk.

Anyway, I totally freaked out because I had ingested what I believed was glass. I asked my co-workers to inspect the pieces and they agreed the pieces were glass. So I frantically called my doctor. He ordered that I go to the emergency room. However, like usual, I sought a second opinion.

I have two doctor friends. I called the first one and got her voicemail. Fuck. I called the second one who is a pediatrician and he assured me that I was fine. He said I'll just poop it out. He's seen worse. I asked, like what. Oh, I've treated kids who have eaten nails, razor blades... and on and on. My chest began to constrict. I interrupted him and asked once more, are you sure my insides aren't going to get cut up? Like my esophagus or my colon? Am I going to die of internal bleeding? He said no... and not to waste my time or money at the ER.

I also found this on the web. So I began to feel better even though my chest felt constricted for the rest of the day. Pure White said the constrictions were anxiety pains. And he should know. But he told me not to worry... because "you're going to be rich!"

The next day, I called Customer Service of a very well-known grocery store that exclusively distributes the tuna. I shall preserve the store's anonymity (for now) while my claim is being processed. Anyway, the representative said I probably swallowed struvites. I was like, what the fuck are struvites? So she put me on hold to retrieve her corporate memo. When she returned, she read aloud all this scientific jargon about canning seafood, and how struvites are minerals that are left over from the canning process. For the most part, 99% of the struvites are removed. Lucky for me, I am the recipient of the 1% of struvites that weren't properly removed.

Again, I needed a second opinion. Thank god for the internet. This is what I learned. But if you are not interested in reading it, struvites are crystallized tuna urine. They are also considered kidney stones. Basically, fish waste. Gee, I feel much better. But, it's unclear. It could be glass... or it could be piss. Who knows? The store offered to conduct an investigation.

Shortly soon after, I drafted and sent a letter to the customer service department and the general counsel of this very well-known store. That same day, Pure White announced our next Dumfries Cup Competition. This is the Dumfries Cup:

My co-workers and I vie for this cup. It proudly sits in the office of the winner for a few weeks. Then the winner has to announce a new competition. We bet on upcoming sport games or award shows or really anything. Once we had to name the Time Person of the Year... this is a story for another time because I was cheated. CHEATED! I will definately share this story in another post, but for now I apologize for digressing. So... Pure White shared my traumatic experience via email with the department and asked, What, if anything, will XXX offer Rebecca as compensation for her ordeal? Closest answer wins the cup.

What do you think?

Here is my letter to assist in your analysis:

Dear Ms. XXX:

On January 23, 2007, I consumed albacore white tuna from the XXX's brand solid white tuna fish in a can (with bar code number 00181990). While eating the tuna, I chewed on something crunchy and swallowed the substance. Upon inspection of the tuna, I discovered shards of glass on top of the tuna pieces. The roof of my mouth also began to bleed.

I am extremely disturbed that glass shards have injured my mouth and are currently in my body. I do not know what the adverse health consequences may be as a result. Because I ate the tuna and swallowed the glass during my lunch hour at the office, my workday was disrupted as I was forced to make phone calls to doctors and emergency rooms. Additionally, I am concerned for my cat who may have also consumed glass as I gave him some of the tainted tuna for his meal. This type of product irregularity is unsafe and unacceptable.

On January 24, 2007, I called Customer Service at XXX's Corporate Office. A representative named Lauren advised me to request an investigation by taking the can and the shards to the nearest XXX's store and completing a product complaint form. Please keep in mind that I have taken photographs of the can and the shards, and also kept one shard in my possession while an investigation is in process.

While we wait for the Quality Assurance Report, I still expect that you will remedy this situation at once. I am very distraught from this experience. Please call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx.

I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you in advance.

Sincerely,

DYY
Attorney at Law

Cc: XXX, General Counsel

Awright, fools. Pray that I at least get a gift certificate!

PS. Today, one of my co-workers left this on my desk and attached a slender piece of tape coming out from its bottom that spelled S-T-R-U-V-I-T-E.

Hilarious. I love it.
This gesture has helped reduce my pain and suffering... but not entirely.
Money and a gift certificate may help more, I think.

The Last King of Scotland

Of all the significant Oscar-related movies I've seen thus far, this one is the absolute best. It's GOOD. All I need to still see is Letters from Iwo Jima, Blood Diamond, Venus, and Volver, and I'm done. I refuse to see United 93, Pursuit of Happyness, and The Devil Wears Prada because, well, I don't believe in wasting time or money.

Hopefully I will get to see the ones above before the actual Oscars. If so, reviews and predictions forthcoming.

By the way, I am currently obsessed with Idi Amin... just like how I was with Marie Antoinette after watching Sophia Coppola's movie and Florence Ballard after watching Dreamgirls.

Did you know that during his rule, Amin gave himself the title His Excellency President for Life, Field Marshall Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea, and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular?

Amin was one bold motherfucker.

How to Talk to a Climate Skeptic

The other day I had inadvertently entered into a heated discussion about global warming with a friend of mine. He simply doesn't believe that global warming exist. He thinks someone is "pullling the wool over our eyes" in order to get more funding to do research about something that is myth. I believe he also used the word "propaganda." I responded with words like "right-wing" and "Christian fundamentalist," but I can't be sure. I was already too upset. I guess I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I mean, I had heard of people who attempt to debunk global warming. I just didn't realize any of them were my friends. It's kind of like when another good friend of mine (who shall remain nameless for her safety and protection) told me she voted for Bush in 2004. That admission rocked my world. I was in shock for weeks. I still shudder when I think about it.

Anyway, Grist Magazine just released a very comprehensive guide on HOW TO TALK TO A CLIMATE SKEPTIC. It's very good. I plan to study this and advertently enter the debate with my friend again.

No offense, but...

Some people are idiots.

So I bought this fabulous shirt last week to add to my great collection of tees. Here is the design:

It's pretty awesome, huh? And it's totally cute on me. I love it. I was SO excited to wear it. But on the day of inauguration, there were quite a few idiots who asked me what it meant. I was like, are you serious? They were like, yeah. I'm like, dude, there's a double meaning. They're like, which meaning are you referring to? I'm like, hello... both. That's what double meaning means. That's what makes this t-shirt so special.

Anyway, I was disappointed at the simpletons' reactions but pleased with the people who understood immediately and promptly furnished compliments. I do it for them, you know.

Here's a picture of me with the t-shirt on. I'm at the Redwood Bar in downtown. The bar is wonderfully pirate-themed. Redwood and my t-shirt made my day.

Me and my bitches.

Happy birthday, ATG!

The Super Bowl Shuffle

You can thank me later.

Dude, I love youtube. It's the best.

Victorious

I don't follow football, but Blu-tooth alerted me that my hometown football team totally creamed the New Orleans Saints by 39-14. Damn. Yeah, yeah... I know the New Orleans Saints were the underdogs and everyone besides Chicagoans were rooting for them because of the tragedy the city had experienced, but... you know, cry me a river. Winners win. It's as simple as that. And can I tell you how we are such awesome winners... and perhaps win the Superbowl this year? I still remember our last Superbowl victory in 1985. I was in fifth grade and EVERYONE in Chicago was Bears crazy. Even I was Bears crazy. So crazy that I had a crush on Jim McMahon (eww!) and also memorized the Superbowl Shuffle. I still remember the lyrics to this day. If you give me a quarter, I will rap it to you. If you give me a dollar, I will rap it and do a little dance too.

In honor of today's win, I present the chorus of this masterpiece to you:

We are the Bears Shufflin' Crew
Shufflin' on down, doin' it for you.
We're so bad we know we're good.
Blowin' your mind like we knew we would.
You know we're just struttin' for fun
Struttin' our stuff for everyone.
We're not here to start no trouble.
We're just here to do the Super Bowl Shuffle.

Very classy shit.

Colbert v. O'Reilly

This is hilarious. I love this shit. Enjoy!

Here's Stephen Colbert as a guest on the O'Reilly Factor:


Here's Bill O'Reilly as a guest on the Colbert Report:

Sometimes simple is sweeter

Christopher totally scored on his birthday gifts. He received clothes, games and tons of toys. All of the board games were boring (since he's still four) but the toys were very flashy. I was jealous. For example, he received:

• battery-powered "Shake N Go" race cars and delux race tracks with flashing lights and loud obnoxious race sounds;
• a remote-controlled monster truck, also with obnoxious sounds;
  
• a complete set of "Home Depot" plastic power tools (interestingly, he received two of the same set... I guess there was a sale at Toys R Us);
• a miniture-size Harley Davidson motorcycle and motorcyclist that operates on an actual foot pump.

Per the recommendation of my sister who said the boys are obsessed with Thomas and Friends, I bought the boys wooden Thomas trains and Thomas toothbrushes and Thomas swimming trunks and pajamas. However, the item that Christopher played with the most is the construction paper I brought along with me:

I taught Christopher how to fly paper airplanes last summer, but we were limited to lifeless notebook paper. So this time I purchased construction paper with cool designs and colors. We already spent two afternoons making and flying airplanes. We even made spaceships by taping two airplanes together and fastening ribbons at the bottom to give an illusion of fire shooting from the engine as it soars through the air. My brother-in-law also joined in on the fun and began folding other types of airplanes. As you can see above, my skills are limited to one style.

Trapped in a Cuckoo Nest aka 4 year old bday party

Everyone knows I adore my nephew. He turned 4 yesterday and today is his big birthday celebration. The theme is Cars from an ostensibly famous Disney movie. I don't know, I haven't seen the movie nor have I read about it in the trades. So I asked my sister (his mother) if kids are going to come dressed as cars. She said no. I thought to myself, what kind of booty theme party is this? Well, actually, I think I said it out loud. Regardless, Christopher and I were excited all day. We love birthdays. I teased him all day that it was really my birthday and my party and my cake and my gifts and my guests. He didn't believe me and responded that the guests are "my people." He also insisted that it's a 4 year old birthday party and surmised that I'm 13. He's a smart kid.

My excitement soon dissipated when the children and parents arrived. The once tranquil suburban San Jose home turned into a 1950's mental institution. I couldn't help but to transfigure myself from a normally outgoing party person into a quiet observer of a scientific social experiment. Let me attempt to explain:

(1) The four-year olds are the schizophrenics. They chase each other around, yell for no reason, and expect others to satiate their demands at once... or they will show you how crazy they really are. They tend to hundle in groups and when they do, they are extremely dangerous.

(2) The two-year olds are the sociopaths. They prefer to play alone and hardly notice each other... until one of them wants the toy of the other and then the blood match is on!! Having no ability to share, they will cry, scream, hit, kick and bite your hand off if you interfere with their primal interests. They look super cute, but I wouldn't trust them.

(3) The parents are the staff. Some are administrators, so they just sit around and complain (likely due to incompetence), and sometimes entertain the patients. These are usually the fathers. The others are the nurses. They feed, clean, and comfort the patients. These are usually the mothers. Both are overworked, understaffed and completely consumed. They often engage in shop talk.

(4) I am the hot Ph.D student who occasionally visits and studies the institution as part of a thesis. Everyone is cordial to the student, but no one can really relate to her. She can't relate to them either. So instead of engaging in trite small talk with the staff, or in a wacky incomprehensible conversation with the patients, she chooses to sit alone with her laptop and pretends to work on her thesis.

Unlike a true mental institution, however, there is no psychiatric medication available at a four-year old birthday party. Curses.

Suzhou architecture

Suzhou, China -- Hometown of I.M. Pei
Courtesy of my main man, DBB. Come home, fool!
But I guess this is much prettier than the strip malls of LA...
Okay, I'll come to you.

A letter from Gitmo

Reading this today made me so sad and angry.

Did you know?

While California has one lawyer for every 240 people, there is only one legal aid attorney for every 8,373 poor people.

Damn.

Doh!

This first video is entitled "The OJ Simpsons: The Lost Episode #1 - If I Did It". Yeah, it's sort of funny. More interesting than anything else. Also, here's the director's cut on Broadcaster.



Here is a Simpsons parody of the intro to Da Ali G Show. It's wicked. Booyakasha!

While searching in google images...

for a flying bird in the post below, I found this:

Dude, it's soooo cheesy, it's awesome. I want this as a T-shirt. Because all you need is love.

Time for Me to Fly

My co-worker Pure White and I were having a very serious discussion about the elements of a "break-up song." He believes that a good break-up song must give you a feeling of empowerment at the finale of the song. I kind of disagree. I think empowerment lyrics are good at the later stage of a break-up. A good example is Heartbreak Hotel by Whitney Houston. But how about songs that allow you to wallow in sorrow and self-pity? Like Gone by N'Sync or Stevie Wonder's Lately? Both are excellent break-up songs, by the way. Regardless, Pure White suggested that I post the lyrics to this cheesy yet empowering break-up song by REO Speedwagon as my anthem for the new year. He's fucken ridiculous, you know. But since I think the lyrics are funny, here it is:

I've been around for you
I've been up and down for you
But I just can't get any relief
I've swallowed my pride for you
I've lived and lied for you
But you still make me feel like a thief

You got me stealin' your love away
'Cause you never give it
Peeling the years away
And we can't relive it
I make you laugh
And you make me cry
I believe it's time for me to fly

You said we'd work it out
You said that you had no doubt
That deep down we were really in love
Oh, but I'm tired of holding on
To a feeling I know is gone
I do believe that I've had enough

I've had enough of the falseness
Of a worn out relation
Enough of the jealousy
And the intoleration
I make you laugh
And you make me cry
I believe it's time for me to fly

{Refrain} Time for me to fly
Oh, I've got to set myself free
Time for me to fly
And that's just how it's got to be
I know it hurts to say goodbye
But it's time for me to fly

Oh, don't you know it's...
{Refrain}
It's time for me to fly

Because I eat funky food, like, all the time

Blu-tooth forwarded to me this GUIDE TO FUNKY FOOD IN YOUR KITCHEN. You should check it out as I found it very educational. Although I do not agree with all the suggestions, especially about refraining from eating pizza left on the counter overnight, I intend to follow the advice. After all, it's about a healthy 2007... though I would dare to argue that ingesting some bacteria actually keeps you healthy...

It's official

I am the only person in United States who does not own a cell phone.

I learned today that my brother and sister-in-law purchased cell phones for my parents for Christmas. This is big. My parents are not technological. At all. Let me illustrate:

(1) Their microwave has a dial.
(2) They do not have cable. My MTV consciousness was not developed until after I entered college.
(3) They do not own a computer, and therefore, do not use email or the internet.
(4) They do not know how to leave an outgoing message on their answering machine. They refuse to leave messages on answering machines as well.
(5) They do not know how to use an ATM machine. They must see a bank teller in order to retrieve their cash.

Yes, my parents are total old school immigrants. And that is why my dad said he only intended to use the cell phone on weekends and weekdays after 9 pm because the calls were free! Ah! Thank god they're still keeping it real. I was afraid for a tiny moment.

Welcome to 07, Bitches!

Instead of specific new year resolutions that I never seem to follow, I create a theme that governs my life for the new year. My theme for 2007 is MAXIMIZE HEALTH AND WEALTH.

Past themes were:
2006 -- Make time your friend, not foe
2005 -- Live consciously and deliberately
2004 -- Decadence

Happy New Year!