Hit-Ons: 0 (or so I think - must be a slow day)
Noteworthy Hit-On Tales: But, my friend did tell me how she was walking to a show at 4pm on Saturday afternoon when a car pulled up next to her. A man leaned over and asked her if she needed a ride (note: in a lascivious way). She declines.
Yesterday, I went to go buy a can of mace (the 3-in-1 kind with capsasin, military-grade tear gas, and UV dye to aid in suspect identification) from 3-D Light on the Commons. The guy at the counter told me how his girlfriend started carrying mace when this guy would wait for her to get done with work and follow her around. Strangely enough, this same logic would apply shortly afterward.
As I cross Cayuga, two young guys in basketball jerseys (probably early 20s or so) head toward me and kind of leer as I pass. I ignore them and continue to the porn store, where I go to buy a gag present for my friend who's leaving town. While I browse the aisles, the two young guys come into the store, see me, and say hi. I say hi back, furrow my brow, and continue to ignore them as I search for a present. Standing behind me, they talk about these two Asian girls they were "going to bang" but couldn't because "they were into it one minute but not the next." I continue to ignore them and go up to talk to the guy at the counter. My friend Shorty, who works there, shows up and tells me about how she's starting a burlesque group and that I should check it out.
I'm interested, but super hungry, so I just give her my number and book it to Diamonds to get my Indian buffet fix. I walk inside and the waitress is no where to be found, so I wait a few minutes. Next thing I know, there's a knock at the restaurant door behind me. I turn around and it's one of the young guys in the entrance, but behind the glass door. I start to go open the door, but then stop and just look at him with a "WTF" expression. The guy smiles, gestures for me to come out, makes a lewd hand gesture implying oral sex, and then waves me to "come on." I am appalled, and shake my head "no" with an "are-you-friggin-crazy?!" expression. And that, folks, is the story of how I was followed this past week.
Look, I'm not saying that I am crazily prudish. I was in a porn store, acting pretty non-chalant about the situation and browsing the lube section. However, that is not a statement that I WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH EVERYONE. So, does the act of entering a porn store thereby make me sexually available? I mean, this is pretty far from consent (to solicitation, in this case). One of the things the mother of my friend (from the car story earlier) asked her was if the guy thought she was a prostitute. It would probably make more sense in my example, but the point is you can't assume "willingness" just by what a girl is wearing or her entering an establishment of ill-repute.
I could go on about the racial implications about Asian sexuality. It seems they saw the contrast between the two Asian girls from their story ("they were REAL Asians, man") who refused them and myself who must be sexually available just by being in a place where sex is acceptable (in a porn store no less!). I don't know what exactly they were thinking, but it did sound much like the "gentle lotus-blossom"/"hyper-sexed dragon lady" motif that is common in stereotypes of Asian women (see "Madonna"/"Whore" motif - basic female dichotomy cited in gender lit). This is why I can't stand guys with Asian fetishes. I am neither. Well, mostly. I am certainly not a "lotus blossom." But, as a "dragon lady," I have standards (like for instance, talking to someone before being asked to engage in sexual behavior).
Anywho, the point is... this should not happen. Why should I feel uncomfortable about where I go? Somewhere along the lines, they thought this was a good idea and that they would have been rewarded for their actions. Did this somehow work in the past? I blame it on the fact that they were young and just being stupid.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Death To Ants! - (Originally Posted March 21, 2008 - on MySpace)
Current mood: Itchy
So I was a little sad when I realized that my roommate was too sick to take care of the ant colony that’s built a trail through my room. I didn’t have time to set the environmentally friendly trap our landlord gave us before I left for Chicago, but now that I’m back a week later... I have a SERIOUS ant problem. Or did rather. They were in my desk, my clothes, my bed, my dresser. I even found some in my clothes a few hours after I had left the apartment. It was horrifying, especially since, well, I hate bugs (especially after living with extra "roommates" in Boston, by which I mean giant roaches). However, unlike my old apartment in Boston, I do not live in any form of urban squalor. The apartment is spacious and has been decorated by the landlord (although the sea foam green of my bedroom was a bit difficult to work with in terms of interior decorating). The presence of ants are a mystery to me as I haven’t resided here long enough to collect signs of neglect. I have no idea what they could consume as I don’t keep anything edible in my bedroom (living next to the kitchen and such).
While in Boston I would tolerate the rat that lived under my sink and to some extent the mice that climbed into our pantry, the idea of co-habitation with insects curls my lip and furrows my brows with disgust. With the larger animals it was a matter of outsmarting them through strategic placing of large objects (bleach bottles in front of the entrance of the rat hole) and food (removing any access to food storage shelves). It’s not that ants are smarter. It’s their sheer numbers and the ability to climb walls (which explains how they got onto my bed).
I spent the first day back crushing them with my bare hands and became desensitized to the carnage of pressing something to death. Eventually realizing that I couldn’t squish the constant flow of a hoarde that lived within my walls, I set up the trap and came back 3 hours later to find a gut-turning swarm of them around the jar of boric acid-laced sugar-covered cotton balls (for those of you who are curious, it’s 3 tsp boric acid, 1 cup sugar, and 3 cups of water poured into a small jar halfway filled with cotton until the cotton is saturated). I left and celebrated Jess’ acceptance into Berkeley’s Law School and drove her to airport at 4 friggin am. I got back at 8am and found a few sluggish-looking ants wandering around the jar... and now 24 hours later, they’re gone.
It’s glorious, but yet somehow I feel a little remorse for the destruction of their, well, entire society. I mean I madly hoped that they would take the sugar back to infect the queen, following their biological imperative to serve their maker. And it worked, or so it appears. But, I feel a little bit of guilt. Their only fault was building a road through my sleeping quarters, and while there was no possibility of co-existence, lest I continue to pick ants out of my hoodie and shoes for the remainder of my lease, I still feel a tinge of sadness for having destroyed their simple lives.
Then again, I enjoy human company with its hygiene standards and would prefer not to explain why I have small creatures living on/with me. Somehow, my feelings of guilt over the ants are not overwhelming enough to propel me to tolerate awkward explanations and potential ostracization by friends and family.
Although I have not seen them for hours, I feel itchy and paranoid. I suppose I’ll just have to live with the guilt of being a mass murderer.
So I was a little sad when I realized that my roommate was too sick to take care of the ant colony that’s built a trail through my room. I didn’t have time to set the environmentally friendly trap our landlord gave us before I left for Chicago, but now that I’m back a week later... I have a SERIOUS ant problem. Or did rather. They were in my desk, my clothes, my bed, my dresser. I even found some in my clothes a few hours after I had left the apartment. It was horrifying, especially since, well, I hate bugs (especially after living with extra "roommates" in Boston, by which I mean giant roaches). However, unlike my old apartment in Boston, I do not live in any form of urban squalor. The apartment is spacious and has been decorated by the landlord (although the sea foam green of my bedroom was a bit difficult to work with in terms of interior decorating). The presence of ants are a mystery to me as I haven’t resided here long enough to collect signs of neglect. I have no idea what they could consume as I don’t keep anything edible in my bedroom (living next to the kitchen and such).
While in Boston I would tolerate the rat that lived under my sink and to some extent the mice that climbed into our pantry, the idea of co-habitation with insects curls my lip and furrows my brows with disgust. With the larger animals it was a matter of outsmarting them through strategic placing of large objects (bleach bottles in front of the entrance of the rat hole) and food (removing any access to food storage shelves). It’s not that ants are smarter. It’s their sheer numbers and the ability to climb walls (which explains how they got onto my bed).
I spent the first day back crushing them with my bare hands and became desensitized to the carnage of pressing something to death. Eventually realizing that I couldn’t squish the constant flow of a hoarde that lived within my walls, I set up the trap and came back 3 hours later to find a gut-turning swarm of them around the jar of boric acid-laced sugar-covered cotton balls (for those of you who are curious, it’s 3 tsp boric acid, 1 cup sugar, and 3 cups of water poured into a small jar halfway filled with cotton until the cotton is saturated). I left and celebrated Jess’ acceptance into Berkeley’s Law School and drove her to airport at 4 friggin am. I got back at 8am and found a few sluggish-looking ants wandering around the jar... and now 24 hours later, they’re gone.
It’s glorious, but yet somehow I feel a little remorse for the destruction of their, well, entire society. I mean I madly hoped that they would take the sugar back to infect the queen, following their biological imperative to serve their maker. And it worked, or so it appears. But, I feel a little bit of guilt. Their only fault was building a road through my sleeping quarters, and while there was no possibility of co-existence, lest I continue to pick ants out of my hoodie and shoes for the remainder of my lease, I still feel a tinge of sadness for having destroyed their simple lives.
Then again, I enjoy human company with its hygiene standards and would prefer not to explain why I have small creatures living on/with me. Somehow, my feelings of guilt over the ants are not overwhelming enough to propel me to tolerate awkward explanations and potential ostracization by friends and family.
Although I have not seen them for hours, I feel itchy and paranoid. I suppose I’ll just have to live with the guilt of being a mass murderer.
Speeding Trainwreck Is a Bad Description ( posted June 9th, 2008 on Facebook)
Hahaha, ok. So my life is not REALLY a speeding train wreck. I tend to be a little dramatic when I'm sick. Here is a brief rundown of the silliness in my life:
1.) Work SUCKS/IS CRAZY - I'm leaving and not saying anything until I'm out.
2.) Love SUCKS/IS A BROKEN-WINGED BIRD - I don't want to commit right now. FYI I just got out of a 5 year relationship!!!!! I just want a break. Why can't we all just be friends?
3.) Family SUCKS/IS LIKE BABYSITTING OLD PEOPLE - My parents are old and eccentric (my dad is apparently as old as the first patent of the shopping cart - 71 years). My sister is young and stressed out, so I help her out and don't mind. My parents are acting as childish as ever, so I help them out and pretend I don't mind. I am like everyone's parent. I didn't mind so much when I was taking care of my mom during her colon cancer treatment (FYI- this is why I am in Ithaca), but now that it's over... I think I remember something about ... oh right, having a life as a twenty-something.
4.) Being sick in summer SUCKS - I have a cold now that I am back from the wine-tasting trip. I sound like a man with 50-years of smoking AND laryngitis. I cough like I am internally bleeding. Awesome.
5.) Being locked out of your own apartment when you have the keys SUCKS - Someone locked both locks on our back door and I only have keys to one of them; and the front door is broken so I couldn't get in that way either. It was 11:00pm and I didn't want to wake my neighbors so I went back home with the family. I thought it was my mom who accidentally locked the other lock, and we got in a screaming match/ angry driving/ throwing a tantrum fight in the car. We made Susan cry. Sorry babe.
6.) Interrupting your neighbor in the shower SUCKS - I got home and rang my neighbor's doorbell so that I could get in through the front door. No one answered. I rang again. I was hoping for the sweet mom, but I got the pissed off dad wearing a towel and asking why I would just stand there ringing the doorbell for so long. I think he hates me because the only time I see him is when he's pissed off at me (doing aerobics upstairs, parking in his spot, etc.). That, and I never wanted to picture him in the shower.
7.) Dropping the mail off of your porch into the bushes SUCKS - yeah, that was me looking nutty when I climbed into a bush this morning. I still have dried bits of yew in my hair.
8.) My Aunt Ester - She's trying to help in that hyper-conservative Christian, you're-doing-everything-wrong-with-your-life kind of way. Helping her with technical problems (ie how/why/what is the internet and where can I get it?) can be explained by the following equation:
Let Y = My Ability to Help Her
X1 = My Knowledge of the Subject
X2 = My Patience at that Moment
K = Knowledge that I won't have to deal with her for another few months
E= Poor English-Language Proficiency
T= Average Technological Barrier for those 60+
B = Cultural Barrier between Us
C = Her Being Crazy in General
Y = ETB(X1) + BC(X2) + K
Feel free to check my math.
Our conversation today:
Me: I don't think I can help you today. I am at sick at home.
Aunt Ester: What? You at home? How about I come over right now?
Me: No, I'M SICK. I am calling to see if we can do this tomorrow.
AE: Tomorrow? No. I come now?
Me: No, I'm SICK.
AE: But the office close at 4:30.
Me: I thought you wanted me to check something online.
AE: Yes. They close at 4:30.
Me: But the WEBSITE does not close at 4:30
AE: You sure?
(INSERT CONFUSED DIALOGUE FOR ANOTHER 5 MIN)
Me: If you just want me to check it online, I can do it right now.
AE: I give you address, you find online? Ok, Albany, NY. Zip code 12201.
Me: No I don't need their actual address.
AE: What? I repeat? OK...
(INSERT 10 MORE MIN OF CONFUSED DIALOGUE OVER POSTAL ADDRESSES VS. WEB ADDRESS)
Eventually, I find nothing and send an email to request the information.
Me: I think that's it.
AE: Thank you so much. God so helpful send you.
Me: Um, you're welcome?
AE: You get master degree. He help you find PhD. You need ask him and he will help you (as if recited).
Me: Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.
AE: You need pray him and accept Jesus because he die for you sins.
Me: Well that's... awesome. Thanks for the advice. Is that all?
AE: You pray Jesus for PhD. He help you.
Me: Could you tell that to admissions?
AE: Who? Who is...
Me: Nevermind, I'm going to go... I'm...
AE: When you get PhD, you find husband with PhD. You have to pray for him too. PhD husband make LOT more money than husband have no PhD. But you have to ask God, "Please God, give me good Christian PhD husband."
Me: Thanks. That's great to know. I'll make sure to... ask.
1.) Work SUCKS/IS CRAZY - I'm leaving and not saying anything until I'm out.
2.) Love SUCKS/IS A BROKEN-WINGED BIRD - I don't want to commit right now. FYI I just got out of a 5 year relationship!!!!! I just want a break. Why can't we all just be friends?
3.) Family SUCKS/IS LIKE BABYSITTING OLD PEOPLE - My parents are old and eccentric (my dad is apparently as old as the first patent of the shopping cart - 71 years). My sister is young and stressed out, so I help her out and don't mind. My parents are acting as childish as ever, so I help them out and pretend I don't mind. I am like everyone's parent. I didn't mind so much when I was taking care of my mom during her colon cancer treatment (FYI- this is why I am in Ithaca), but now that it's over... I think I remember something about ... oh right, having a life as a twenty-something.
4.) Being sick in summer SUCKS - I have a cold now that I am back from the wine-tasting trip. I sound like a man with 50-years of smoking AND laryngitis. I cough like I am internally bleeding. Awesome.
5.) Being locked out of your own apartment when you have the keys SUCKS - Someone locked both locks on our back door and I only have keys to one of them; and the front door is broken so I couldn't get in that way either. It was 11:00pm and I didn't want to wake my neighbors so I went back home with the family. I thought it was my mom who accidentally locked the other lock, and we got in a screaming match/ angry driving/ throwing a tantrum fight in the car. We made Susan cry. Sorry babe.
6.) Interrupting your neighbor in the shower SUCKS - I got home and rang my neighbor's doorbell so that I could get in through the front door. No one answered. I rang again. I was hoping for the sweet mom, but I got the pissed off dad wearing a towel and asking why I would just stand there ringing the doorbell for so long. I think he hates me because the only time I see him is when he's pissed off at me (doing aerobics upstairs, parking in his spot, etc.). That, and I never wanted to picture him in the shower.
7.) Dropping the mail off of your porch into the bushes SUCKS - yeah, that was me looking nutty when I climbed into a bush this morning. I still have dried bits of yew in my hair.
8.) My Aunt Ester - She's trying to help in that hyper-conservative Christian, you're-doing-everything-wrong-with-your-life kind of way. Helping her with technical problems (ie how/why/what is the internet and where can I get it?) can be explained by the following equation:
Let Y = My Ability to Help Her
X1 = My Knowledge of the Subject
X2 = My Patience at that Moment
K = Knowledge that I won't have to deal with her for another few months
E= Poor English-Language Proficiency
T= Average Technological Barrier for those 60+
B = Cultural Barrier between Us
C = Her Being Crazy in General
Y = ETB(X1) + BC(X2) + K
Feel free to check my math.
Our conversation today:
Me: I don't think I can help you today. I am at sick at home.
Aunt Ester: What? You at home? How about I come over right now?
Me: No, I'M SICK. I am calling to see if we can do this tomorrow.
AE: Tomorrow? No. I come now?
Me: No, I'm SICK.
AE: But the office close at 4:30.
Me: I thought you wanted me to check something online.
AE: Yes. They close at 4:30.
Me: But the WEBSITE does not close at 4:30
AE: You sure?
(INSERT CONFUSED DIALOGUE FOR ANOTHER 5 MIN)
Me: If you just want me to check it online, I can do it right now.
AE: I give you address, you find online? Ok, Albany, NY. Zip code 12201.
Me: No I don't need their actual address.
AE: What? I repeat? OK...
(INSERT 10 MORE MIN OF CONFUSED DIALOGUE OVER POSTAL ADDRESSES VS. WEB ADDRESS)
Eventually, I find nothing and send an email to request the information.
Me: I think that's it.
AE: Thank you so much. God so helpful send you.
Me: Um, you're welcome?
AE: You get master degree. He help you find PhD. You need ask him and he will help you (as if recited).
Me: Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.
AE: You need pray him and accept Jesus because he die for you sins.
Me: Well that's... awesome. Thanks for the advice. Is that all?
AE: You pray Jesus for PhD. He help you.
Me: Could you tell that to admissions?
AE: Who? Who is...
Me: Nevermind, I'm going to go... I'm...
AE: When you get PhD, you find husband with PhD. You have to pray for him too. PhD husband make LOT more money than husband have no PhD. But you have to ask God, "Please God, give me good Christian PhD husband."
Me: Thanks. That's great to know. I'll make sure to... ask.
It's About Time I Told Everyone on the Internet Exactly What I Think
How gloriously narcissistic! A blog... of what I think/feel/have been doing/find interesting. Now, I suppose I can stop pestering my friends with the random articles I find online... or blabbing to them about the inane details of my life.
Things I Intend to Include:
1.) Daily Roster of Hit-Ons - plus any noteworthy comments - please share your stories as well!
2.) The Weekly/Daily Hit - who I want to snipe
3.) The Weekly/Daily Assassin - props to whoever suits my fancy
4.) Consumer Whoredom - The product of the day/week
5.) Eating Ithaca - I may not be a professional food taster, but I am a bon vivant and indulge in many gustatory pleasures (several times per week). I'll rely on the ladies for drink recommendations.
6.) Link of the Day - usually stolen from Digg and Boing Boing but occasionally other people
I'll probably do a rotating schedule... or whenever I get around to it.
Things I Intend to Include:
1.) Daily Roster of Hit-Ons - plus any noteworthy comments - please share your stories as well!
2.) The Weekly/Daily Hit - who I want to snipe
3.) The Weekly/Daily Assassin - props to whoever suits my fancy
4.) Consumer Whoredom - The product of the day/week
5.) Eating Ithaca - I may not be a professional food taster, but I am a bon vivant and indulge in many gustatory pleasures (several times per week). I'll rely on the ladies for drink recommendations.
6.) Link of the Day - usually stolen from Digg and Boing Boing but occasionally other people
I'll probably do a rotating schedule... or whenever I get around to it.
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