Well, That Was Unexpected

Real life is stranger than fiction...depending on which authors you read, of course.

Friday, May 09, 2008

mmmm donuts

argh. my coworker brought in donuts. don't you think it should be somehow physically difficult to pound, oh, like 900 calories in 10 minutes? that one should feel, you know, a sense of fullness. a sense of wow, after eating enough calories to sustain a supermodel for two days, i have a certain satisfaction in my belly. but NO. after having my compulsory chocolate and maple selections i am now fighting off the desire to go in for a glazed or jelly filled. fie on you donuts. my only consolation is that while they are yummy, they are not that particular type of donut--found fresh in *certain* special asian-owned donut dive bars that inevitably involve the words happy, lucky, shiny, or rainbow in their store names--that are dense and doughy and and utterly what i imagine crack cocaine must be like. i mean, once you start, just give up the ghost. you ARE eating five pounds of donuts that day. luckily the very best of said purveyors is on the PCH, far away from me. (i'm having visions of some weight watchers or jenny craig staff finding this entry and using it to describe the sad sad control and addictive property food has over people like me. posting it in 80 point on a projector in a meeting...people ooohing and aaaahing, shaking heads, sympathizing.)

so, i have this weird obsession with cleaning my laptop keyboard. probably because, in a sad and telling analogy, it's like a lover's body--the thing i am most intimate with, the thing i stare at and touch the most. 9 hours a day at least. let's sing some mariah carey "touch my body, roll me on the floor, wrestle me around, play with me some more, you sexy sony vaio...this is an andy samberg skit on SNL, i feel it. anyway, i just want you to know that you should NOT pry the keys off when trying to lovingly clean the keyboards naughty bits. they arent like normal keyboard keys that you can snap off and snap on--they have crazy little apparatuses underneath them. i come from a place of knowing. the better way is to coax out pieces of bran muffin, donut, and ethan-hawke-in-gattaca-exposing eyebrow and eyelash hairs that have been eaten or shed kinkily over the sensitive keys, using a paper clip and some compressed air. heed my warning. My H key will never be the same.

the spaces between the stalls in the women's bathroom at my work are TOOO wide. i should not be able to see anatomy when i just try to discern if the stall is being used. in some magical places, certain public restrooms, these spaces are so small that you have to push the doors to know if people are in them. in my work's case you not only can see immediately, you can see definite colors, styles, body composition, sometimes even identify the coworker. heinous.

i keep listening to this mandarin radio station. it's great for my chinese. but man, karen mok's songs:yawn. sap. or dao lang. i am going to use the space beneath here as a repository for links to songs that i kind of like though. pay no mind--unless youw ant to listen in which case, go for it.

Vivian Hsu--hen hen ai;
Angela Chang --Wo lian ai le;
S.H.E.--Watch Me shine (chinese version of the song from legally blonde);
Angela Chang--Neng Bu Neng yong gan shuo ai;
Chris Lee--wo de wang guo


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