Archive for July, 2008

Hooked On A Feeling


Hong Kong Noodles Can Suck My Noodly Appendage!

Sean and I have heard racist remarks come out of the mouths of white people in regard to our marriage.

Hell, my own family has made remarks.

Whatever.  I’m used to my own family’s bullshit.  I’m used to white people’s issues. Fuck em.

It’s harder for me to face racism from Asians. I don’t know why, maybe because most Asians I know are very liberal.

Tonight marks the second time Sean and I have been openly disdained by Asians, in an Asian-owned restaurant.

We went to Hong Kong Noodle for the first time today. We sat down. I noticed after about ten minutes that no one was coming to take our order. People seated after us (a white couple) had their orders taken.  Then another couple got their order taken. And another. Both were seated to either side of us.

“Honey, it’s okay, it’s nothing.” Sean said, noticing my glower.

Finally, after about 15 minutes, our order was taken.

By now, the people around us have their food. We waited. And waited. From the time our order was taken until we got our food was about 40 minutes.  New groups were now seated. A group of four Asian students, a white couple, and another interracial couple were all seated around us. I noticed that the students and the white couple had their orders taken. The waitress was pretty passive aggressively nasty to the other interracial couple, though. When the white counterpart of the order told her what he wanted to drink, the waitress pretended not to hear him. He repeated himself. “FINE.”  When the Asian girl ordered, the waitress rolled her eyes at her and huffed when the girl paused to ask the boy what he wanted.

Maybe I was seeing things, right? I should give her the benefit of the doubt….

Oh wait, that group of students? They had their food already. The white couple? They had their food, too, even though both groups ordered a good ten minutes after we did.

By now I must have been giving my death glare*. Sean asked if I wanted to leave, but I said no. I was really hungry, and I didn’t want to give them any more reason to dislike us. Stupid, right? I shouldn’t have to prove that we are worthy of a little decency.

We got our food. It was…meh.  Our eel tasted less-than-fresh, and was burned. The chicken wonton soup?  Sean thought it was mediocre, while I thought it was gross.

Sean asked for boxes for our food. The waitress sneered like he had just asked her to show us her tits.

I don’t know what crawled up her ass. Was it the fact that we are a mixed couple? Was it the fact that Sean is Filipino? I did notice another Filipina in the restaurant, and she didn’t get very speedy service, either.

Whatever it was, fuck em. We don’t need to return.

The other place this happened was Sushi Tango, in Uptown. The waiter there acted like we were scum.

We won’t be returning there, either.

*I guess my normal sitting-around-look is pretty bad already. I had a former employer describe my glare as “A look that could curdle milk.” Another co-worker, whom I hated and evidently glared at, told my manager that I gave her chills. Unluckily for her, the manager was also a good friend of mine. I  made a point of glaring at the girl from then on. When I get my glare on, though…I once made a woman cross the street to avoid me! Ahahahaha. Nothing like the Indian Death Stare, I tell you.

I Don’t Even Know…

boktorpotatox: Morning

me: hello dog decided to play dominos last night they’re all over the place.

boktorpotatox: Lol. I once again must ask; did she win?

me: I don’t know she must have been playing with the cats

boktorpotatox: Ohhh I bet plankton won then

me: yeah, she’s a cheat but you know Antigone was just throwing dominos everywhere like DOMINOS!!!!and the cats got disgusted only Thulu would play with her and they weren’t even playing properly

Mixed Signals

My friend recently told me about a day of hers. She is a CODA (hearing adult child of Deaf parents). I’ll call her L. L was in a mall a couple months ago with her mother, who is Deaf, and two friends her age (24), who are also Deaf.

Anyhow, they were waiting in line for food in the food court, and it was her mother’s turn to order. Her mother has a very distinctively Deaf way of speaking, and some guy behind L started to mock L’s mother.

This is after a day of getting pointed at (Deaf, not BLIND, you idiots!), whispered about, and mocked at the mall.

L. lost it, and decked the guy. Her two friends, S. and N., started hitting the asshole with their food trays.

Anyhow, they got arrested and briefly put in jail. The charges of battery were dropped because the jerk was too ashamed to show his face in court. First, he got caught mocking a Deaf person. Second, he is a big, muscular guy who got beaten down by three tiny women (the heaviest of the three is 104 or so pounds).



Don’t go hailing L. as some saint, however.

Last week, she and her mother were in a different mall. They were looking through clothes, talking as they did. L. noticed the salesperson staring at them.

He repeatedly asked them if they needed any help. L. repeatedly told him no.

She was getting quite fed up with his behaviour, and signed to her mother, “Fat bastard won’t leave us alone.”

The man answered in ASL, “My mother is Deaf, too. I was just trying to find a polite way to enter your conversation.”


A Dozen Eggs, Please

I’m thinking about becoming an egg donor.

The money would take a huge chunk from Sean’s student loan debt, which would be nice.

Or, it would pay for a lavish vacation/honeymoon to France. No, I’m not actually considering that option. I’m much too practical, unfortunately.

I figure I can handle the mood swings from the drugs. Nothing can be worse than Effexor.  Did you know that Effexor is rated near heroin on the horror of its withdrawal? Mood swings? Bring them on!

Plus, my genes will get thrust on the world without any real effort on my part! Muahahahahaha. They’re PAYING me to reproduce?

Here’s a funny little side note: Effexor withdrawal gave me such insane mood swings that I once burst into tears because Sean farted. “It smells so bad!” (sob, sob). I sobbed, then laughed hysterically, then sobbed until I fell asleep. My husband is a saint, he really is.

Twitchy Dude

Dear Twitchy Dude at Cub Foods,

My shirt does indeed mention an “outdoor terrier,” but it means the SHIP, not the DOG, you imbecile. It even has a SHIP on it. I do not want to hear about how you used to have a dog, but ate it, nor about what kind of sour cream you think is best.

Your creepy, snorting little laugh that makes your moustache do a little dance? Please refrain, especially when talking about sour cream.

Thank you,


p.s. you follow me again and they’ll never find your body, LOL!

Baby Crazy

Every month I can always tell when I am ovulating, because I start to get all these thoughts. Thoughts like “Sean’s babies would be so cute. Really, I should start having babies now. I only have two years left of undergraduate.”

I start looking up pictures of Filipino hapa babies and imagining what my baby would look like.

Suddenly, silly videos of my baby cousins become much more interesting.

I envision myself as this young, poor-but-noble mother with her baby strapped to her back, attending class.

It doesn’t help to have friends who have extremely cute hapa children. Then I start thinking, “Well, so-and-so wouldn’t be THAT much older if I get pregnant now, I could still do playdates.”

I start looking up free or very low cost family activities in the area.

Sean’s on to me, though. He always gets this bemused look on his face and says, “Honey, remember last month how you started talking about babies incessantly? You’re doing it again. Wouldn’t it be so much nicer to wait until you have your master’s degree, and I can be a work-at-home dad? It would be better if we both get through college first.”

I know. I know he’s right.

Tell that to my hormone-addled brain, that is all “Start stockpiling baby stuff now! Who cares if you are only 21! You’re more fertile this way! You can have MILLIONS OF BABIES!!!!”