apparently i was tagged.

The Rules (as copied from dave's blog):
-We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
-Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
-People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
-Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
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1. every night while in bed, right before falling asleep, i do a quick mental scan of the kitchen and fridge, and i plan my breakfast for the following morning.

2. ray has a tendency to keep empty cereal boxes atop his fridge. this throws my #1 all off balance. and then i get grumpy.

3. if i had more spare time, i would use it stalking the olsen twins.

4. i am secretly embarrassed that I don’t want pets. Like it means I’m un-motherly or something. But seriously, what’s the big deal about owning an animal, then feeling guilty every time you come home late?

5. i am the most even-tempered person i know, but i’m also super jealous. I’m not quite sure how that works.

6. i spent nearly 2 hours on sunday looking for my favorite spoon. i've had it since i was 7. i think it's lost. meh.

7. i am currently addicted to The Larry Sanders Show and The Wire.

8. i am a dizzingly lucky gal.

hello diana lee!

streamers and sprinkles

in a few weeks, my gals and i will transform into raunchy, loud, and drunk bachelorette-party crazies. some call it a last hoorah to spend some quality time with your best friend before she is coupled for life....FOR LIFE. others call it an excuse to be annoying, squealing, stumbling, and neither noticing nor caring how incredibly dumb you look. i call it an excuse to be vomiting and dry-heaving all morning long, thus finally reaching my goal weight. go team bulemia! whatever the reason, it will be an unforgettable trip to the greatest city in the US. Yes, the citizens and japanese businessmen have voted. it was unanimous.

Save the Cheerleader, Save the Blouse.

It's hard to tell from the above photographs, but she's wearing DL originals.

Super Speedy Movie Reviews

Come this weekend, a good majority of the blogs i read will be divided into two: one side nitpicking at shortcomings, the other side nutting themselves for 140 minutes straight. Yes, Spiderman 3 will hit the big screen this weekend.

And because i'm too lazy wait in lines of eager fans, and because i have not yet forgiven Sam Raimi for creating a Power Ranger out of Willem Dafoe, and because i'm not particularly skilled at critical movie reviewing, i've created my own review called the Super Speedy Movie Review...specifically for those who might be interested in other movies and those who don't like to read.

Very Good.

Very Good.

Very Not.

she invented the game of playing hard to get.

ma and pa, circa 1975.

the skinny

was i the only one who didnt get the memo that april was apparently 'pack on the pounds' month?

chip chip cheerio.

Ray recently started using a fairly clunky, white-plastic-bottle flask that bears an uncanny resemblance to the plastic canteens found locally in the stolen shopping carts of your neighborhood homeless.

This does not bode well with me.

Flasks should be shiny, sleek, stainless steel (or leatherbound), and, ironically, reek of old-money alcoholism though its main purpose is to trim down the bar tab. Even so, it has an air - something debonaire. And, as astutely observed by Tesauro & Mollod's The Modern Gentleman: A Guide to Essential Manners, Savvy & Vice:

"Carry a flask in a breast or coat pocket... if this is not possible, you are underdressed for flasking."

it's late. i should sleep.

This is a travesty. already april and so few posts. i guess it's bc i've been busy. crazy busy.
high: working with my best friend
low: my nice grandma isn't doing too well.
and somewhere in the middle, my best friends cooked me fatty spaghetti, i was denied entry back into the US from Canada which resulted in $3000 in legal fees, $4000 in travel expenses, $300 in roaming charges, and i renewed my love for grapenuts with honey.

it's been a hard year, and it's only april.

Things I still need to learn: optimism, simple arithmetic, how to pick the most savory dish on the menu, sleeping in silence (i need the tv on), anticipating how much to drink to get it juuuust riiiiight throughout the night (vodka sneaks up on you, people.)

Things I am an expert at: sudoku lightning jet speed (lightning sold separately), being even tempered, losing things then finding them under the passenger seat of my car five months later, making my mom laugh.

In response to some complaints from our last event, i had to make these signs for our communal dressing rooms:

Running a denim sample sale = Not for the faint of constitution.

we Marvines love our hair.

Every now and again, my brother participates in a rather short stint of goatee-growing, despite my negative reviews. If he stopped shaving altogether in an exercise of sheer laziness, I would be ok with it. But no. instead, he opts for a grazed patch of hair on his chin, which leaves him looking, dare I say, inexplicably semi-retarded.

Reciprocally, my brother hates the hair on my head, often pushing my bangs back in an attempt to get the messy mullet off my face. Last night, he did it again, while I was doing a load of laundry (mind you, i was wearing pjs, doing laundry...who was i trying to impress?). I calmly walked to the bathroom, turned the hairdryer on, and exited the bathroom bearing a striking resemblance to sonic the hedgehog. He was not amused.

i wouldn't really mind them if they actually fit properly on my head.

December ended nicely. Treated ray to a relaxing mid-week getaway to big bear. Was reciprocally treated to homemade spaghetti (my all-time favorite), pro-status Wii bowling tips, and late-night Jacuzzi-romping. As been forewarned, better in theory than in execution…except for one bonus: the jets & the water drown out those weird noises from random body parts. oh you know.

Then made our way to SF to celebrate the new year. The backyard bonfire + single-barrel whiskey seemed like a good idea at the time. But the whiskey + 1.5-mile-uphill-tread-home proved otherwise. Legs sore, sidewalks soiled, words exchanged. We both ended the night feeling unwanted and unappreciated, but I guess that's just how relationships go sometimes.

It's a good thing new year’s eve is not indicative of the rest of the year, bc that would really suck. and those annoying little glittery hats would be everywhere.

our journey to brain cancer.

We decided to spend our 2 year running from store to store in the SGV, comparing cell phone plans and ogling over unnecessarily complicated overseas phones the size of my fingernail. It was a frustrating day, but at least each and every store had at least 9 chinese employees picking at their Styrofoam take-out rice platters, which left us smelling MSG-delicious. 'tis the aroma of romance.

We decided on a 1-year family plan together, despite our better judgement. We tested dropability, durability, and antenna breakability. He preferred prettier phones. I wanted better coverage. Go figure. And finally, after six hours of listing pros versus cons, whinging, moaping, hair-pulling, arm-wrestling, and a handy in the parking lot, I finally got my way.

No touching. No sucking. No licking. No biting. No wiggling. No stroking. No drinking out of. No sticking anything into anything.

in thinking about doro's upcoming "crazy" bachelorette party, I've wondered if I would/could get turned on by a beefcake-stripper shaking his ass and grinding my leg.

The answer : I highly doubt it.
maybe it's the shaved pubes (not a fan), or the strain of herpes lined up on his upper lip, or that I'm more concerned about drinking out of this shot glass for fear of where it's been (or rather, what it has been inside).

and I wondered, when I am enfianced, would I want to know the details of his bachelor party? No. I don't think I could take it. But I'd leave him with the Golden Rule: whatever you let her do to your penis, I'm letting him do to my clit.

That's fair, right?

i work too much.

Correction. I come into work too much.

Last night was a treat. I got a free pair of Levi's in the mail from a coupon thing I had filled out 7 months ago and forgot about. this was a shocker in the best possible way. Not a fan of the butt-pockets, but it was free so whatever.

I smuggled a few bottles of Hefeweizen in my backpack for my work-weekend in san diego. I think this is the best decision I've ever made.

And now to business: if you don't already know, I work at a place o'denim, with lots o'brands and lots o'sizes, for both o'sexes. If you need some jeans, are looking for a specific something, or want to come to the warehouse and try on some jeans, let me know. i can hook it up. plus, my office doubles as a dressing room.

romance is in the air.

the rain left ray's apartment electricity-less. no tv. no computer, no cooking - just us two in a room full of romantic and flattering candles. so papa johns by candlelight was the natural course of action, along with my very first 40oz.

malt liquors were served. butts were pinched.

and then i fell into a coma.

my friend the photog

www.andrialo.com.

"I cried like a child at the end of Terminator 2, y’know, with the thumb and the molten, y’know."

I recently started watching Spaced(quoted above) and Green Wing. i wish american tv were this good.

I also have season 1 of both 24 and Lost cued up in my computer, but I have yet to see any bc i can’t stand to listen to suspense background music. I blame the duum-dum duuum-dum duuum-dum Jaws soundtrack and my resulting fear of toilet sharks.

Useful information: Halloween falls on a Tuesday this month.

Useless query: how many email accounts do you guys have? I have 5 gmail accounts, 1 yahoo, 1 hotmail. i use all except for my yahoo. this seems excessive.

my good luck charm.

so, i guess my brilliant idea of rubbing ray's penis for good luck is starting to pay off.

the job has been much more bearable since my last vent. the hours still suck, but at least my bank account is finally acknowledging my presence. the people are warming up, though only after a gigantic tub of store-bought cookies. cookie-sluts, i call them. my boss still has a stupid dog that wears stupid plaid outfits, but nothing short of murdering that stupid thing would solve that stupid problem, and i may be a horrible person who points out fashion disasters and stares at people in wheelchairs and eats her roommate's food and only likes people with nice teeth, but i am NOT a dog-murderer goddammit.

My Uncle, ladies and gentlemen.

Uncle: Hello sarah, are you home right now?
Me: No, but I should be after 8PM. Why?
Uncle: I want to come over and drop off a gift for you and your brother.
Me: Aww, really? you shouldn't have, but thank you. What is it?
Uncle: It’s a cd I recorded of myself karaoke-ing.
Me: Oh.

So he came over carrying 4 cds – 2 for me, 2 for my brother - one full of Taiwanese songs, one Christmas songs. Turns out, he's a fantastic singer.

Still, unless I sang "Feliz Navidad" better than God himself, i wouldn't exactly call it a "gift".

i call hitler!

my best friend just got engaged and has announced that she wants a crazy wild bachelorette party filled with cocks and balls and code words for when things get overbearingly crazy. On a scale of one to ten, it’ll be a crazy.

i'm not exactly a crazy type (and even less so, the crazy-party-planner type), but i can't fucking wait.

All i know is, if the (male) stripper is willing, it'd be cool if he could stick around to join us for our pre-prepared assortment of salty carbs and rich desserts while wearing fake stick-on mustaches. then at the end of the night, he can jut out his bloated stomach and pretend to be pregnant. i kinda always get a kick out of the man-fake-pregnancy bit.

my ugly office.

i was given a $500 budget to decorate my new small 10 x 10 office. so far, i've taken out the florescent lights and replaced it with 2 lamps: one for the floor, one for the desk. and i bought a really annoying rug that keeps bubbling up (see previous post). so, in short, my office is ugly.

now, i'm a total pro when it comes to things like proofreading an essay for grammatical errors or maintaining cowlicks...but wall decor and furniture placement? not my thing.

help.

i'm a girl of simple dreams...a life of leisure...

slippers to keep my feet warm.

freshly laundered sheets.

a stocked fridge & clean water.

also, i would like for the rug to stop bunching & bubbling up in the middle of my office.

smartest man ever.

last night i came home from work absolutely drained, walked straight to my bookshelf and scanned the shelves for a particular paragraph that had been on my mind.

"what more could he want? it was an incredibly stupid question and when he failed to answer, i was reminded of just how lucky i truly am. movie characters might chase each other through the fog or race down the stairs of burning buildings, but that's for beginners. Real love amounts to withholding the truth, even when you're offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone's feelings." -david sedaris

you like me, right?

i am generally likeable person.

it started at a young age. i was really good at math. my dad liked me almost immediately, even with my cowlicks.

in 8th grade, the "naughty kids" liked me too, and i totally fell for it. i went from straight A's to 3 C's, got suspended twice, and was kicked out of honors math.

in highschool, i ditched the bad influences and became a cheerleader, but only for 1 year, as i quickly discovered that i am not the peppiest of people and the uniforms were itchy.

later in highschool, i decided to live out my Sweet Valley High dreams and got in good with the most popular and the bitchiest Wakefield twins of San Marino, except their names weren't elizabeth or jessica, they weren't bitchy, and they were the Chen sisters. we liked to kareoke.

first year of college, san & i had the social room. some might argue that it was purely a locational thing, but lemme ask you this....why did nobody ever go into neighboring steph or anu's room? huh? huh?

in my second apartment, the landlord loved me and my roommates, even after the fire hazzard situation of filling stairwell up with cardboard boxes. my apartment was small, but my roommates were goodlooking so i couldn't complain.

so my point is...i'm likeable. which is why this is so puzzling....



SOMEBODY EGGED MY BEDROOM WINDOW.

awesome amy.

breakdancing footage from Planet B-Boy (2007), a film produced by andria's big sis. check it!

Planet B-Boy
Run DMZ clip

good news/bad news.

the good news is i've been on a relaxing month-long vacation before starting my new job.
but the bad news is, this indulgence, though relaxing, makes me feel pretty guilty.

the good news is, during my vacation, i've trained my body to stay up into the wee hours of the night.
but the bad news is that i have yet to master sleeping in. somehow, the break between my two curtains manages daily to let the sunlight seep and burn a hole into my cursed cornea, no matter my positioning or location on my queen bed.

the good news is i've had lots of time to keep my room clean.
but the bad news is, i never want to be in my room alone bc i'm quite sure that a ghost has taken residence there recently. twice, my TV has spontaneously turned on when no one was near the remote control (my friends can vouch for me!); plus, the whole sunlight-curtain-eyeball thing...it happens too often to be coincidental.

the good news is, a few weeks ago, i woke up sweat-drenched and screaming at the top of my lungs and realized that it was just a nightmare.
the bad news is, nobody responded to my scream. so if i was, like, raped or abducted or pecked to death by a parrot, my brother would not be in the know. (FYI: wild green parrots are a staple in the bird population of the SGV.)

the good news is, i walked into Old Navy and won a free Ipod nano, which came in the mail today.
the bad news is, my friend, whom i was accompanying, won free goldfish crackers, but the crackers can only be redeemed on wednesdays at participating locations.

and that explains my month of august in short, after you take out all the secrets.

The debut of my artwork collection that i've been slaving over for the last half hour entitled "Wouldn't it Be Nice".

mrs. theyskens


mrs. o'brien


mrs. corddry


mrs. bluth


mrs. cross


geek #4

where everybody knows your name

after my final exit interview from my job, i took a leisurely stroll to commemorate my last 2.5 years, thinking about how much i'll miss some of my coworkers, wondering which friendships will remain strong, visiting my frequented restaurants and mail stop, and of course, having one last look at my favorite neighboring superstructure:



'twas a classy area of studio city, clearly.

yet another wedding weekend.

boys at church.


there was velvet on the ceiling.


here is a person for whom a 'highschool friend's wedding' translates into shock, anxiety, and, at times, sheer panic.


me, slumped over in gratitude of a full open bar, a lively dance floor, and abandoned (untouched) cakes free for the taking.