not color-blind

While packing for last week’s road trip to LA, my dad and I were piling on the snacks.  I had neurotically separated everything into matching bags – sweet, salty, and fruit.  Then, my dad had the nerve to come in and mix everything up.  After I stopped staring in abject horror, I managed to pull it together enough to ask him just what he thought he was doing.

Dad: “Organizing.”

Me: “It’s already organized!  Sweet, salty, fruit!”

Dad: “No, I want Asian snacks and white people snacks.”

End of discussion.  But if on our next trip, kids are fighting to get into the wasabi peas AND lychee jellies at the same time, don’t come crying to me.  hmph.  Taxonomy hasn’t been so hotly debated since the tomato: fruit vs. vegetable days.

black venom

I grew up in a household without TV, so I was fairly sheltered from the popularity of teenages dramas such as 90210 and Dawson’s Creek.  Friends wasn’t even really on my radar until college, when I discovered the magic of TV, and more importantly, reruns.  Still, I’ve never really been a fan, restricting most of my viewing to the gym or the few shows that have wormed their way into my brain.

However, TV on DVD is another matter altogether.  I really think this ranks up there with the greatest inventions in the modern science (the human genome project, the airplane, cupcakes).  Far better than Tivo because, really, how many shows do you truly care about?  Plus, while Tivo does allow you to watch whenever you want, TV on DVD doesn’t even have commercials to fast-forward through and it allows you to indulge in Black Venom (ie: an entire weekend of sitting on the couch alternating between Entourage and The OC, only moving to hunt for the next meal.  Which is ice cream or burritos).  There is nothing like the ability to watch an entire season in just one or two days.  Especially for those of us living the unemployed hipster life.  And don’t even get me started on the beauty of being able to watch a full season of 24 in 24 hours.  An electronic object that allows you to live a day in the life of Jack Bauer in REAL TIME?  What more do you need?   I am elated.

Most importantly, as I have been packing for Germany, I realize that when you set your DVD limit at 20-30, but count one TV season as one unit, the possibilities are endless.  Which is okay, because, the space you save in packaging!  So efficient!  Granted, it would be more efficient if I was to take them all out of boxes and use a CD case, but a) who even has CD cases anymore and b) how would guests be able to appreciate my alphabetization system?

the magic of Google

I thought with the introduction of Google Spreadsheets and Calendar, the internet giant had peaked on the rocking of my world.  But that was before Rohit and Smelly started preaching the virtues of Google Reader.  And this really is a life-changing breakthrough!  Never mind saving countless minutes of my web-surfing (because, let’s face it, I’m unemployed) but the lurking potential is fierce.  Now the subjects of my blog stalking will have no idea how often I refresh their pages in the hopes that a new and witty post will be there to brighten my day.  Take that, Facebook.

ponying up

This weekend, my friends and I went to visit some u-pick fruit orchards. Or, as Susan said, we went to toil like migrant workers and PAY for it. You know the people who run the farms must sit there laughing like hyenas about stupid yuppies who pay to labor in the fields. Especially certain yuppies who show up at 3 in the afternoon during the hottest part of the day wearing skirts and flip-flops.

But in our defense, living in an industrialized society forces you to pay for all sorts of things that are crazy. A few that I personally indulge in:

Gyms – paying for somewhere to work out? When space to run is literally everywhere? The idea of paying to exert energy to cancel out the fact that 4.5 hours of the typical American day is spent sitting on the couch in front of the TV, is completely ridiculous. And some may argue that they’re paying for classes, equipment, and eye candy, but please. Who goes to classes for more than a month, likes the gym shower better than their shower at home, or doesn’t think the really hot people are jogging in the park?  Because that’s what I tell myself while shelling out the monthly fees.

Hot Pot/Shabu-shabu -  While some people argue against paying to cook ones own food, I still find it hard to resist that enticing scents of barbecued meat and simmering seafood soup.

Cover charges – This I actually do not partake in, but spent my fair share back in the day.  Really, paying for the privilege of being in a dark basement somewhere?  Or bars that range from overly pretentious to downright dirty?  Forget that.  I dance around in my bathroom now.

While it may seem ridiculous and illogical, there are a fair number of things out there you’d think we could get for free.  But not only is there no free lunch, turns out there’s no free therapy, partying, or working off said lunch either.  At least I can continue to jack free wireless.

being a good sport

Despite my occasional, sometimes near-fanatical, interest in sports (that is, as a spectator), I have absolutely no affinity at all for America’s pastime: baseball. I do, however, greatly enjoy America’s other favorite pastimes, eating and shopping.

Somehow, I found myself going to not just one, but two, baseball games this week, doubling my lifetime record. Which is fine, I enjoy outdoor activities on a summer afternoon. And I especially enjoy activities where sno-cones, ice cream, and hot dogs are brought right to your seat. Most importantly, I enjoy spending time with friends before I’m deported. So in the interest of friendship, we had a little field trip yesterday to the Red Sox-A’s game at Oakland Coliseum and then partook in today’s cross-bay rivalry at AT&T park.

As my tutors, Profs. Ng and Mulligan explained, this so-called “baseball” begins with a “first pitch”. All those clowns down there are supposed to be hitting the “ball” with a “bat” (although, let me tell you, that didn’t happen very often this time). And then people run around “bases”. Which, you know, I’ve seen Fever Pitch.  I know what it’s like to go to baseball games.  I know it’s okay to bring my laptop because Drew Barrymore did it.

My friend Rohit often berates me for being bourgie, which I perpetually refute. But at yesterday’s baseball game, an inspection of my purse revealed a bottle of Evian, the NY Times, and The Omnivore’s Dilemma. So, okay, maybe a little bit.  But at least I left the Powerbook at home.

I was really looking forward to today’s festivities, since Phil dubbed AT&T ballpark “the ballpark for people like you.”  Which means that the majority of people aren’t paying attention to the game and are just walking around eating, taking in the view, and sending emails.  This turned out to be largely true, especially as I went with a group of bright-eyed lawyers in training.  Who fed me and helped ridicule this sign that said “baseball is the fullest expression of freedom of speech, freedom of press, and freedom of assembly in our national life.”  Really?  I mean, really the fullest expression of all these freedoms?  If that’s true, I really have been under-utilizing my constitutional rights.  But in the end, once the distractions faded, I realized I was watching my second baseball game of the week, one that was fast approaching the 4-hour mark, and that it was about -20 degrees (that’s after the wind-chill factor).  So I asked myself, WWMD (what would Martha do), left to buy some eggs, and came home to bake pumpkin spice cupcakes.

unemployed diary

Bonnie: If I had all the money in the world, I would milk cows.

Me: You know you don’t need any money to do that, right?

 

My Dad (watching a movie): All Right! Communism!

 

Me (end of converstaion): Nordstrom’s is having their half-yearly sale tomorrow. 7am.

Melinda: WHAT? That should have been your FIRST SENTENCE. Not hello. Geez.

 

Me: Don’t you think it’s weird to talk about marriage?

The German: No. Why, do you?

Me: Yes. But maybe that’s just because you’re so old, ‘the rest of your life’ isn’t that long anymore.

 

Speaking of which, the movie my dad was watching involved Scarlett Johansson being separated from her family as a baby and left behind in Budapest, only to be reunited with them 6 years later. I guess this is supposed to be a story of tragedy during wartime, but I’m thinking, big deal! Didn’t y’all see The Joy Luck Club? My mom met her sister for the first time when she was in her forties. Six years is nothing!