Thousand Island

The girl I replaced left me a jar of honey. On a whim, I decided to mix some of the honey and soy sauce to garnish (or salvage) what had originally been the dry, bland and pasty chunks of fried chicken I had prepared for dinner, which were barely seasoned with olive oil, black pepper, and salt. You might think that's culinary childplay, but I mean, this is a huge step for a girl who just started cooking raw meat an entry ago. Anyway, the result was delicious, flavorful, mildly salty and mildly sweet, and once further shoved down the palate, a little bit familiar. Then it hit me. While I was delighted by the successful sauce-improvisation, it had occurred to me that what I had created wasn't Lorraine's Soy and Honey Glazed Chicken, but was actually good ol' proper-noun-less teriyaki chicken...which has already been in existence for ages. I'm a little upset by it. 

This could be a giant metaphor. 

sunrise, sunset

Beppu has the worst sunsets. It kind of just turns pink and then it gets dark...brain fart...Land of the Rising Sun, duh. I love spontaneous epiphanies, especially while I'm typing stream of consciousness style. 

I've been having a really good week since the last post. So good that I hardly even want to mention them. Who likes reading about happy people? My blog is entirely about what annoys me...and my profound social commentary (yeah right). I can basically parallel this with an awful and awfully embarrassing Sex and the City reference because that's the only thing I've been watching lately: It's like when Carrie realized that she was unhappy with Aiden because there was nothing wrong with their relationship somewhere around season three or four. I've been cheating on my blog with happiness and contentment. And Carrie ended up marrying Big, now how about that? I think Proust said something about how grief empowers the mind. It also makes you a better writer. 

Since my blog lacks in lists, I've decided to make one about what I've been up to and what's been exciting:   

-I turned 23 and had a fantastic birthday week because...(sublist ensues):

-I hosted two travelers at separate times via couchsurfing.com and had the best time with both of them discovering Beppu, finally. HOTSPRINGS ARE AMAZING. 

-my supervisor treated me to gyoza and champon, or something, whatever it was good and I love how birthdays mean you don't pay for your food and everyone is nice to you. 

-I was only hungover in half the times I went drinking since the last post. 

-I cooked! A sesame-soy-miso, chicken, potato, broccoli, tofu stew. My very own recipe! It needed some salt, but it was edible.

-for winter holiday, I'm going to HONG KONG to see my family for Christmas and New Year! 

  

tylenol cold

tylenol cold is fantastic. i think i'm getting visuals. i'm trying to fight the induced sleep but i'm so going to pass out in about 3 minutes.  

TONIGHT I ATE RAW HORSE: 

It was alright. nothing special about it except that it's equine and i love that i ate my little pony. i think all raw food tastes similar--cold, slimy, could live without eating it ever again. 

m.i.a.

I came here because I wanted to escape from the comfort and familiarity of home, and be on my own for awhile. But unless I'm commuting on the train or, like now, in bed right before I go to sleep, I have had zero time for myself. I want just one day to get settled and discover Beppu City for myself. I don't even have time to vacuum or decorate these sad, empty walls because the job and other obligations come in the way. I have no energy to learn Japanese because I'm so busy. I haven't had the chance to figure out how to beat my cold. And now, with my new phone which I hate and love equally, I have another device connecting me to the world. I feel that if I'm not surrounding myself with people and loading up on plans then I'm missing out and wasting time. All I really want, just for a little bit, is to soak it all in. And clean my barren, dusty apartment. And get some toilet paper.      

Wired...or wirelessed (?)

Lorraine's gotta keitai (cell phone).

Lorraine got hate crimed in class by a little shit Japanese kid named Shoichi. 

Lorraine has a new stalker friend who she's going thrift shopping with this Sunday because new stalker friend has CNN. 

Lorraine cooked spaghetti with marinara and broccoli TWICE since her success with instant ramen. Will move on to spaghetti with pesto and boiled potatoes tomorrow. 

Lorraine was somehow able to wash her clothes after aimlessly pressing buttons on the Japanese washing machine. Lorraine also realized it takes two days to air dry wet clothing

Lorraine's immune system is fighting a losing battle against the Japanese cold virus. 

I need to buy some toilet paper.  

Gaijins are crazy

People don't lock their bikes here and that offends me. It offended me so much last night that I knocked several over. I unplugged the lit wreaths hanging on lampposts along Christmas lane because the Japanese only celebrate Christmas aesthetically. Last night's gaijin-dance party was so fun and so very successful, not only because I woke up without a hangover, but also because I remember everything that happened and now I know there's a 4 a.m. bullet train from Oita to Beppu.  

I have Wannabe stuck in my head

Firstly, HI JO

And secondly, today was awesome. Maybe it's my diet that's making me so happy. I've been taking a lot of St. John's Wort and everything I ate today either had sugar or caffeine in it. What a great Thanksgiving! 

Speaking of my irregular diet, even though I have my own kitchen, I have not actually cooked anything yet unless you count reheating leftover pizza in the toaster oven. I'm using my stove as a drying rack for wet dishes. And I haven't plugged in the fridge yet not only because I haven't bought any perishable food but also because I'm paying my own bills. 

In other news, I caught myself speaking English with a Japanese accent today in class. I think I'm turning Japanese.

   

 

    

JAPAN 2

The following are merely some thoughts with no transitions. 

Today I bought an electric blanket because it's cooooooold over heres. It's supposed to snow! I don't know what to do with myself.  

I made friends with a Japanese lady at the Beppu tourist office and I'm meeting her tomorrow for supper at her house. She's probably 60 years old. She's wants me to converse with her in English to improve her speaking skills. I accepted because I'm lonely, and I need her to help me get a cell phone, but she doesn't know that yet, so booyah. 

On Saturday I'm going with my new friends Minna and Iris to this gaijin dance party held inside a room. It's all you can drink for some exorbitant fee. I decided to go because I'm lonely and because the possibilities of where the night will end up excite me. The zero-likelihood that I will make the last train home at midnight with no place to crash means that this night is going to be interesting in the least.  

I will probably never write about work because my job is a joke. 

Inspired by previous post, besides recycling, these things also annoy me about Japan. I have striked out the language barrier because that's something I should learn since I'm in their country. 

- How google opens as google.co.jp. 

- Customer service. Construction workers, train station managers, McDonalds employees, every other damn clerk, etc. are so fucking polite. If you have a shit job, you don't have to be nice to me, o-kudasai. I like my coffee served with a side of disgruntled-worker angst. And no, I don't need a bag for that.  

- Taking off shoes indoors. Not only in homes, but in restaurants, dressing rooms, corporate offices, etc.    

- Cell phone charms. Cell phones in general, actually.  

- The price of fruits and vegetables. A cheap head of cabbage is 100 yen, or about a dollar. Actually all food is expensive and come in small portions. A shitty medium pizza cost me 1,700 yen, or about 17 dollars.

- Trendy Japanese male fashion

- Celsius. 

     

JAPAN

So if you're wondering, Japan rocks. I am so happy I did this. I feel free.  

I'm sitting on my tatami munching on potato chips, grape juice, and chocolate cookies and I couldn't be more pleased with myself. 

My job is alright. I teach like 3 hours a day and get paid in gold bullion. I also love everyone I've met through the job. 

Getting around Japan is easy. Trains are straightforward. Everything I need is in walking distance. As for the food, all the menus come with pictures of the meals so I just point at what I want and say, "o kudasai." 

I do miss home, of course. I would kill for an Entertainment Weekly, a fatty steak, or some so-Cal sun. The only thing that pisses me off about Japan is recycling. I really hate separating my trash. Tomorrow I'm going to dump my unseparated garbage in a McDonalds' trash can and walk away victorious.    

Accepted Everywhere

I got my VISA today. I am now legally allowed to work in Japan as a Specialist in Humanities/International Services. Fancy hmm? I've got my plane ticket booked, I know where I'm going to be staying, I've already made a friend there, and I bought a brandspankin' new backpacking backpack. All I need is some freakin' yen, and I'm set. I'm so ready to leave and conquer. 

 

I'm a winner!

I'm never drinking again. It's 9:05 p.m. and I'm still queasy. Here's how I ended up with the worst hangover of my life...or at least what I remember. 

Arrived at Nader's at 10 with a fifth of gin, a fifth of jack, and tonic water of course. We start drinking immediately. Rainey downs two gin and tonics and about two shots of jack along with a delicious steak dinner. During the course of the evening, I bring up how I want to jump into the Custom hotel pool and get kicked out for good. I hate Custom. I hate the people there and how incredibly pretentious it all is. The only time I have fun is when I'm shitfaced and by the time we left the apartment, I was very merry indeed.

Nader and I exchange pulls of the gin in my car once we arrive. I can't even fathom how much was consumed. The bottle was missing this morning so I'm assuming we drank it all. We get to Custom and Nader buys me a pint of Stella. By the time I finish drinking it, I am completely wasted. At this point my memory of the night is appropriately hazy. I don't remember a single conversation. But I was apparently able to communicate that I wanted to jump into the pool because someone pushed me in! I kinda remember the shock of being submerged in water but I don't remember how I got out of the pool or if anyone helped me get out or if many people were staring. I'm not entirely sure who pushed me in, hell, I thought it was all a dream, but the wet pile of clothes and shoes lying next to me on the couch I passed out on confirmed the abhorrent truth. I vaguely remember going to Oscar's apartment after leaving Custom. I have no idea when or how I got back. 

I woke up this morning with a pounding headache, stomach pains, still drunk and wearing Nader's shirt backwards and no pants. I slept with my contacts in, and I still have no idea where they are. They might be lodged in my eyes or I'm guessing they're somewhere on Nader's couch. I muster up the strength to leave, eat two Advils, kindly accept a a pair of pants and cup of water from James that I end up throwing up into a bush along with the Advils. 

The drive home was dreadful. My face was partially numb so I at least couldn't quite feel the headache, but the bumps on the road were not conducive to my ailing stomach. It was so bad that I threw up on myself while driving on the freeway. Nader's shirt is now covered in my vomit. The delicious steak wasted. I throw up exactly 6 more times throughout the day when I finally arrive home. 

You're welcome.         

**EDIT** oct. 30

Steph helped me piece together some of the evening in our following Skype conversation:

Lorraine Chow  

i still dont know who pushed me

Stephanie
[identity protected]

Lorraine Chow
ahaha

Stephanie
u told him to hold ur purse and to push u in

Lorraine Chow
no waay..
hahaha

Stephanie
and then cordel grabbed ur purse for u and the [person who pushed you in] acted like he didnt know u

Lorraine Chow
who's cordel?

Stephanie
one of the security guards

Lorraine Chow
perfect
and did i get out myself or did someone fish me out?
this is so sad that i have to ask you all this! i honestly don't remember shit

Stephanie
nader was pulling u out
but i knew i was far too weak
so i was next to him suggesting u get out by the stairs
after a few attempts of u getting out, nader fished u out
cuz u couldnt really help with the getting up part

Lorraine Chow
i could have drowned!

Stephanie
u were kind of an asshole that night lol
which im pretty sure was ur goal
not to me but just to others

Lorraine Chow
that was my intention
to leave with a splash

BADUM-CHHHH...

as i'm talking my words slip to the floor

I teeter between oversleeping and...undersleeping? I can go to bed at 10 p.m. and wake up still tired at 11 a.m. Conversely, I can sleep at 6:30 a.m. and wake up 4 hours later completely refreshed. I am currently operating under the latter scenario. I'm am under the assumption my diurnal/nocturnal sleeping habits operate like a credit system. Anyway, this information is hardly amusing and only worth its mention for the also hardly amusing following bits of info:

1. I was up because I drank a medium sized cuppa coffee after 5 p.m. Those who know me might know that that shit affects me like a bunny dosed on crack laced with speed laced with adderall. 

2. I was up because I bought an iPod Touch yesterday and found myself completely obsessed with syncing every worthwhile picture and song onto (into?) it and scavenging for free applications until the wee-hours. I am such a tool.  

3. I was up because I got a Skype account! Whilst iTouched mineself, I got a call from Kevin at 4 a.m., or 6 p.m. Bangkok time! (By the way, Skype is far superior to any form of instant messenger. Add me if you have Skype: candyraine8)   

4. After hanging up, I continued to stay up trying to claim Kevin's frequent flyer miles through NWA. I failed miserably and lamented my failure in a long e-mail.

5. Facebook inevitably keeps me up no matter what time it is. 

6. Finally, I was up because Adrian texted me from Boston at 9 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, prompting a serious debate on whether I should be kind and text back but suffer from a staggered back and forth until text-convo ends, OR...leave the text unanswered, feign that I was too far unconsciously lost in a REM cycle to hear his text, and reply to him when, I guess, people normally wake up in Pacific Standard Time. I decided on the latter option when the sun started to rise and that I probably should get some sleep before the gardeners wake me up in two and a half hours. 

These things really do keep me up at night. 

MEMEMEMEMEME!

I'm bored. I had a great brunch with my good friend Jean, and now I'm back at home doing nothing. I will kill time filling out these memes.

Don't read this entry unless you're as into me as I am.

General Q&A meme:

1. Last movie you saw in a theater?

Religulous

2. What book are you reading?

I'm simultaneously reading Brave New World and The Selfish Gene.

3. Favorite board game?

Monopoly

4. Favorite magazine?

Entertainment Weekly

5. Favorite smells?

Flower shops, fresh soil, bread

6. Favorite sounds?

Acoustic guitar, clicking on the keyboard, babies laughing

7. Favorite fast food place.

McDonalds

8. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?

...yes.

9. Favorite drink?

Gin and tonic.

10. Do you eat the stems on broccoli?

That's my favorite part, actually.

11. Favorite sports to watch?

Eh...tennis. I'm getting bored of this meme. I'm going to start making shit up. I'm going to have to say artistic gymnastics. I also like watching animals get shot. And lumberjacking, best ninja, and competitive cooking.

12. What's under your bed?

Gypsies.

13. Morning person or night owl?

I'd prefer neither if I'm trying to sleep.

14. Over easy, or sunny side up?

Oh my god, this is so retarded. I want someone to scramble me a night owl with a side of grits.

15. Favorite place to relax?

Someone's fat belly.

16. Favorite pie?

Pot.

The following is a photo meme floating around cyberspace:

-Take a picture of yourself right now.

-Don't change your clothes, don't fix your hair...just take a picture.

-Post that picture with NO editing.

-Post these instructions with your picture.

Only fools rush in

The UCI fair was long, and the drive to and from was horrific. Rush Limbaugh's nut-job ranting didn't make the morning drive any better--in fact it irritated me even more. Road rage, sleep deprivation, and conservative talk radio should never be combined. But on the bright side, the newest Student Traveler is out. I'm published!! My name, three articles, and my mug (I'm second to the right in the pic above) are currently in circulation. As if my ego isn't big enough already! 

In my last entry I asked the proverbial question, "Now what?" mainly due to this quarter-life crisis of mine. I had been beating myself up over this for some time now, and, well, crisis averted! I've concluded that I don't need to pressure myself with an answer, as it all figures itself out. Why do I need to be interning in D.C., or have some entry-level job at a fabulous company, or studying for my first law/business/grad school midterms? I just really don't want any of that now, nor do I even know what I want, nor do I want to pigeonhole myself into someone else's plan because I think it sounds good. I'm gonna let the course chart itself. I'm excited about the possibilities and where it'll all lead--especially with Japan in the horizon. So many of the most wonderful things that have happened to me happened without any premeditation.  

My newly found contentedness is all thanks to this 30-something named Carrie I worked the UCI study abroad fair with. I spent four hours casually talking with her, and in our bantering she was so unexpectedly sagacious in the way that older generations are in their interactions with the generation behind theirs. I can only compare it to me giving advice to an 7th grader, in that having 10 more years of life lived certainly affords you the clarity and confidence someone 10 years younger doesn't. She made my problems seem so trivial. Her twenties were all about fucking up, moving around, taking chances, and losing sight of her dreams, but also stumbling upon the dreams she didn't know she had. How exciting!    

In other news, Kings of Leon was fantastic, of course. My third time being in the same general vicinity as Caleb Followill once again did not result in a makeout session, but at least I got a free poster.

I know, I can't afford to stop for a moment

Just got back from another road trip. San Luis Obispo, Los Angeles, San Diego-- a Mid to South coast Californication filled with miles and miles of good-good people, boozing with good-good people, the resulting hangovers, inside jokes, the best smoked albacore taco in the world, the perfect slice of pizza, smiles, tears, delirious exhaustion, painful farewells, the bittersweetness of coming back to the comforts of home. It's done and over. I feel like I've finally kissed another amazing summer goodbye. It's actually getting colder now. After 100-degree dog day afternoons and nighttime slumbers with thin blankets, it's finally fall. I'm burrowed in comforters and sweaters and my toes are still cold and my skin ashy dry. I feel fleeted. 

Now What? has been my slogan of the season. Now I wait for the What may come. The only tangible things I can think of are returning DVDs, developing pictures, the Kings of Leon concert, cracking open Brave New World, and turning in my assignment on time. I'm too drained for anything else. For Now.  

    

shut up

I'm currently sitting in a semi-deserted courtyard in Cal Poly SLO trying to kill time until my room is ready to check into. Said courtyard was entirely deserted and peaceful until this girl decided to sit three-feet yonder and color her art homework while yaking away on her cell phone. She has a whole fucking yard to sit and color, that bitch. Why the fuck did she sit next to me? I have utter disdain for her. Her leopard print flats are so obnoxious. Her accent annoys me. She is completely uninteresting from what I gather from her side of the conversation. I can't ignore her because I've now committed myself to hating her for ruining my quiet. I refuse to move because I was here first. 

So I dedicate this post to her and to anyone I've had to listen to talk on the phone. It's annoying as fuck. I understand a concise, informational back-and-forth, but actual conversations and useless banter are unacceptable if you're surrounded by other people. I hate when I'm in a car with someone who is talking on their phone because this means the music has to be turned off or lowered, I'm not allowed to talk to anyone else who might be in the car, and I have to subject myself to listening to half of a conversation. I mean if I'm being polite for your sake you might as well inconvenience me as little as possible. And there's no possible way to ignore listening to the conversation. There's been a study on it--people pay more attention when they hear only half a conversation. Now, I can understand if the call is important, but keep it short unless you want me to consider shooting you. This rule also applies when someone is watching TV. ACTUALLY, if that ever happens, do your friend a favor and TAKE YOUR CONVERSATION TO ANOTHER ROOM. There are infinitely many convenient places to talk on the mobile phone, there is usually only one convenient place to watch TV. People have pulled this on me so many times. It seems too obvious to point out that it's rude. Why does it seem I'm the only one who thinks this is annoying? Are cell phones too recent of an invention to have proper etiquette for them?  

Since I'm on this cell phone rant, I might as well list the other things I hate about some people and their cell phones:

1. Ring tones. You should not have to pay money to have your phone ring. It rings for free. 

2. The shitty song I'm forced to wait through just to get to you. I mean, come on, subjecting someone else to your musical tastes is not only annoying but can also be embarrassing.  

3. Stop talking so loudly. I hate you. 

4. ....That's about all I can think of for now. I've only had 2 hours of sleep. 

Backwards

Look what my cousin got for me to piss me off -------->

Sarah Palin bumper stickers! horray. I don't know what to do with them. Perhaps mail them to Hillary Clinton or NOW, 'cause that would be funny.

Lauren Conrad values my opinion

I Google myself sometimes--it's what I do to entertain myself at 3:30 a.m. when I cannot sleep. Well, ahem-ahem, of the first three search page results, there are two Lorraine Chows (and a sub link!) that are actually me. I will let you guess which ones. Oh, and sorry, only close friends were invited to the wedding.

On page four, this search result caught my attention. It's a really bad article about Lauren Conrad's new fashion collection. Ugh. Anyway, this quotation caught my eye:

"The clothes were really, really cute," said Lorraine Chow, 19, of Irvine. "I thought it was really cool that Lauren Conrad would do a show out here and not just in Hollywood."

I mean, who could deny the fashion ferocity of one such femme fatale from The Hills? But sadly, the opine from name-twin is hers alone. I'm not 19, I'm not from Irvine, and I would never say anything so asinine.

But as I read on, the following quotation tickled my sleep deprived knotty dendrites. It reads thusly:

Chow's friend, Vy Tran, agreed. "I would buy all of the clothes if I could afford it," said Tran, 19, of Irvine. "Especially the blue, one-shouldered dress."

Wait, WHAT?? I went to high school with a girl named Vy Tran.

Coincidence? What are the chances? How many Lorraine Chow and Vy Tran combos can there possibly BE in this dimension? Let alone two in relatively close proximity, who are the same age, and reside in mostly Asian cities?

Or MAYBE (and this is just some liberal speculation) LC's clothing line is bad enough to warrant at least TWO source fabrications.

Zounds. I'm leaning towards the latter. Made up, fo' sho. No one likes Lauren Conrad or her clothing.

So here's to you, Conrad. Go ahead, smear my name to further your opportunism. I don't care because I have faith in fact-based, ethical journalism, and I know my supporters will see through your truth-stretching and slanderous intentions and I will rise victoriously. It would be futile for me to stop it because some people will believe anything the media tells them these days, even if it's made up. Ask McCain supporters; I'm sure they all agree your fashion line was really, really cute.

It is now 4:26 a.m. I will now Google images of fuzzy ducklings.

Ode to Free Credit Report Dot Com guy

Actually, it's not so much an ode but a confession:

I think I love this guy ---->

If you don't recognize this mildly attractive face from those awful freecreditreport.com commercials perhaps this little ditty might tingle your Spidey senses (or make you want to jump into on-coming traffic):

 "F-R-E-E that spells free credit report dot com, baby." 

Still don't?? Well, here's a whole page to refresh your memory! 

I really can't explain why. His voice is more bland than J. Lo's, raps worse than my first generation Asian American mother, needs a haircut and a shave, his friends look like they belong to a third rate Nirvana revival cover band, AND he has already married his dream girl and share blissful matrimony in the basement of her mom and dad's. What a winner. 

Hell, this schmuck has had bad credit for FIVE commercials now. I mean, yeah this fool had his identity stolen and all, but Boy, if you no longer want to serve chowder and ice tea in a pirate costume maybe you should get your credit checked or something...I wonder if there's some kind of Web site that does it for you...for free...

I digress. So yeah, I love Free Credit Report Dot Com guy. My heart doth flutter like an idiot when I see his stupid face on TV. I love how he's always smiling through the adversity of the times and bad credit, singing like his life is a Rogers & Hammerstein musical, and moving forward, not backward, upward not forward, and always twirling, twirling, twirling towards freedom. I like him for the same reason why my favorite actor is John Cusack. He's got this regular dude quality who doesn't care if his shoes match his belt and would write and sing really bad songs for me. 

I bet he's deep.  

But whatever, I'm going to marry a senator. 

The New Facebook

Don't Like:

1. Lumping of friends in all networks. I can't easily tell if I have more or fewer friends than you at LMU. And now I realize I have fewer combined friends than some of my friends and that makes me slightly annoyed. 

2. Lumping of tagged and self-tagged photos. You can't easily tell that I had hundreds upon hundreds more pictures other people tagged of me than I had tagged of myself. Now I can't tell if you're a picture whore or not, now you can't tell that I'm not. 

3. Combining the news feed with the wall means I can't easily tell how many wall posts you've gotten. Vice versa. You're only cool if you have over one-thousand wall posts..obvi. 

4. That people (myself included) are actually taking the time to debate the new Facebook in the first place. I've got an actual assignment to write for work. And the amount of effort from the millions of new Facebook haters probably would be better served solving, I don't know, the crises in Sudan, Darfur, Zimbabwe, domestic economic troubles, curing cancer and AIDs, the slowly disappearing bees, climate change, world hunger and poverty, the idiocy of creationism possibly being taught in school, that somehow aborting a fetus is not as touchy as sending people to fight, hurt and kill others, and possibly die in useless WARS, or whether my new hair color suits me better than my old one. Actually I rather like my new hair color, scratch that. 

Like:

1. Info+Applications are on separate tabs. This means I don't have to scroll through anyone's favorite movies and work history just to write "Happy Birthday" on the wall. Also, if I want to see which Disney Princess you are, that you slapped someone with a sheep, or managed to save a .06 pounds of carbon offset, all I need to do is click once on a separate tab! It's so easy! THANKS, NEW FACEBOOK!!

2. Photos. The pictures are bigger! And scrolling through them is easier. Oh, the sliding-through-various-pages feature is neat. 

3. It's cleaner and has more white space. Bumper stickers, although cute and gosh-darn funny and sooo represents whatever one can possibly say better than words, took forever to load on the old Facebook profile page and inspired a rage inside of me that caused me to like my some of my Facebook friends less because of them. 

4. Ever wonder which tagged pictures your Facebook friends can or cannot see in your profile because of various friends' album privacy settings? Well, with the new FB now I can see how my profile looks like to any one of my friends! (It's under Settings and it inspires a new stalkerish tendency in me which I adore.) Nifty! Now it's verified that my FB-using younger cousins can see those pictures from 80s-prom and know I'm an irresponsible drunk. Horray!

5. That so many people hate the new Facebook, that I'm willing to like it just to spite them. 

**EDIT** oct. 6

6. PIRATE SETTING. AMAZING. 

It's a bananar!!

BEHOLD:

I don't know why this show was canceled.  

Look at what was #20 on Entertainment Weekly's 20 Dumbest TV Shows Ever. Contestants try to contort their bodies into cutouts in a foam wall or else they're pushed into a pool of water. Canned by Fox (what's new?) faster than, well, any other inane reality show on Fox. Please, please watch this gem of a clip I hyperlinked above. It's the Australian version, but the accents make it all the better. The contestants realize how absolutely fucked their buddy is.     

 

Favorite line: 

"That's not a bananar, that's a T." No shit, Aussie! Thanks for the laugh, indeed. 

 

"I have made myself more complicated than I really am"

"I have read books like The Unbearable Lightness of Being and Love in the Time of Cholera, and think I've understood them, I think (they're about girls, right?)..." quoth Rob Gordon in High Fidelity.

I think I've understood them too, they ARE about girls. And about dudes too. Tomas, Florentino Ariza, Rob Gordon: I'm convinced they are all the same neurotic guy (in different times and locations), each consumed and plagued by excess of love, in fidelity or infidelity, boohoo, yada-yada, I'm freaking out. I'm so sick of Arcadia.

In other fabulous news...I'm going to continue reading American Psycho, and well, nothing. Miserable contentedness. I think I'll go for some ice cream and return videotapes. 

 

 

 

hard to live in the city

I'm trying to make this connection about human nature, so read this one out. I intern at Student Traveler magazine and I've been assigned to write four country profiles: Argentina, Ireland, India, Holland. Part of the assignment is to ask actual locals from the assigned countries about what are the best places to go and things to see, the point being a local knows way more about their country than someone who has never been there. To do this I created a profile on CouchSurfer.com (BTW, awesome site, check it out, sign up, and can I sleep on yo' couch??) and found and messaged about 40 natives from the respective countries this query: 

Subject: Question

Message: Hi, I'm with Student Traveler and we are doing a write up on your country based on where locals go to see and do in their own country. I know there are probably a ton of things to do in your city and country, but if you have a short list, we will publish them as highlights in our next print issue (out in a few weeks) and mention you. Also if you have any photos of you and/or guests that have stayed with you in your country, can you forward them to me for possible publication. I look forward to your reply. Thanks.

I got about THREE completely useless responses in two days' time. I messaged people who have 100% response rates and seemed perfectly friendly. I even joined groups of the respective countries and posted the same thing with the same dismal responses. Who wouldn't want to be published and their pictures put in a magazine??

Deadline approaching and desperate for some replies, I changed my game plan entirely. So just this morning I sent about 60 other people this message:

Subject: Can you help me?

Message: Hi there! I'm about to go to your country soon, and since you're a local, I was wondering if you could send me a short list of places you like to go, places you like to see in your own country. It can be clubs, places to eat, hidden treasures, anything! Thanks, Lorraine.

I've received 20 thorough and helpful responses in the space of 4 hours. And counting! What's going on here?? I'm the same person asking the same information, minus the fact that I'm using their responses and pictures for my articles. I guess the CouchSurfers would rather help out a newbie traveler than a silly intern sucking their soul of information they don't want shared with the Student Traveler readership. 

THANKS SUCKAAAS.   

People, from Argentina to India, don't like it when their hidden treasures become public knowledge. Like the time I witnessed folks nodding their heads with musical familiarity to "Kids" at a frat party one night and another frat party the night after. A one too many "I love this song!" & "Me too!" combos later, I stopped liking MGMT. I mean, these people routinely praise "Jumper" and that damn Journey song with the same enthusiasm. And imagine the disdain when I learned that Albert Hammond Jr., my latest fascination, can be found on the Gossip Girl soundtrack. What I was doing at said frat parties and why I was going through the Gossip Girl soundtrack shall not be discussed. 

   

i'm a loser baby so why don't you kill me

If all goes to plan, I'll be in Japan by the end of October. Tutoring English to Japanese children. For a year. It frightens me, as any sort of major change would. Somehow I think blogging will keep me sane. Who knows. I give it a month. (Not the tutoring thing, but then again...)

Those who are reading this already know about this far eastern endeavor of mine. So essentially this blog is self-congratulatory and purely vain, but what blog isn't? 

I write the occasional diary entry, but it's always way emo, illegible, and hey, that's private, foo'. I regret not thoroughly recording my life. So many stories forgotten, abbreviated, or exaggerated. I mean, what the hell did I do this past year? I know I had fun. I can certainly say it was the best year of my life even, but all I have are (appropriately) hazy memories. I guess we're all like that. What do you even remember doing today, hmmmmmmmmmm? 

But the regret regards something I didn't care for at the time, so suck it, self. You start this shit now.

Today I passed out things at USC for some fair. I also learned how to use the bus thanks to my co-worker Brett. Or Brent. I think it's Brett. Turns out it's a lot like a subway system. Ironic because I've only used subways outside of SoCal. Then I dropped off my mama and auntie to the airport, came home, sat on my bed for a period of time not worth the embarrassment to mention 'cause it's a Friday night and started a blog. 

There. It's gonna be a good year.