sorry, you're a douchebag

So I get that you defriended me because you broke my friend's heart. That's fine. I get that.

You systematically went through your friend list and clicked away all the people that you had had in common. All of her family members and their significant others and friends who were more hers than yours. Basically anyone who would have cause to wish damage upon your cowardly, slimy person--probably wise, because I'm willing to bet there are many more people who like her than who like you. All bias aside, she is like 1000 times more awesome than you anyway. But it's like you thought that if you'd just removed all the people that you met through her, maybe no one will notice you ever existed and that you were a rotten, sleazy scoundrel with balls so small a mouse would be hard-pressed to find your manhood.

Honestly, I'm sorry that you're such a douchebag. Because I actually kind of liked you. You were funny and seemed grounded. I thought we'd be better friends as time goes on. Guess not, b/c you turned out to be a Class A Douche Canyon. I hope you get that, even though you'd like to pretend that we never met, I will never, ever forget what you did. If there is any justice in the world, you will be unemployed, live in a roach-infested apartment and date whore-y cheaters for the rest of your life. As an added measure, you will also develop a severe allergy to all of your favorite things. And kittens will hate you.

trivial observation

Despite an intense fear of salmonella, I willfully ignore all dietary precautions to consume obscene quantities of raw chocolate chip cookie dough. I like it because it eats like ice cream that doesn't melt. And if you know a thing or two about me, it's that ice cream cones carry a certain precariousness because of how slow I eat. Super yummy.

But what I do not like is the Spicy Chicken Nuggets from Wendy's. Yes, it is spicy. And I guess it's technically chicken. But what they don't tell you is that it will burn away your taste buds in a burst of processed fire, rendering you unable to speak or swallow. Your ears will pop from shock and you will then just sit there, blinking rapidly and sniffling as your tummy does a 180 degree back flip as it tries to figure out if it can, indeed, digest chemically spiced plastic. Which is terrific, especially if you're in the middle of a long road trip.

wish i were a little bit taller / wish i were a baller

Yesterday, I tried to capitalize on my recent weight gain as an opportunity to give blood. Being just about 5'1 has its disadvantages: the nurse wouldn't believe that I weighed enough to be a blood donor.

"But I do," I insisted, only lying a teeny tiny bit.

"Sorry," she said, eyeing my driver's license suspiciously. They should put this woman in charge of airport security, b/c she can sniff out the slightest untruthfulness like a shark.

"Nice try, girl!" shouted another nurse from across the room, just to further my shame. This girl is a blood donor wannabe! "Thanks for trying!"

What like, this was a game or something? I just want to give blood, not win a prize! I bet she would've believed me if I were a little bit taller. (And a little bit more baller.)

I think that's a belief that many short people hold close to heart: that things might be a little bit different if only we were taller.

This NYT story, Short? No Worries: Just Ask This Texan, talks about the myths of being short and discredits them. For instance, she says that short people are just as socially competent/intelligent as their peers. (So the only thing that explains all the awkward boys is ASC is that...they're Asian? Just kidding. Mostly.) She also says that short people are just as able to run countries. (Although the examples she gave are Napoleon, Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin...stellar rulers, all of them, yes.) Which is cool, you know, knowing that I can be smart and also commit mass genocide if I ever ruled a country.

She then goes on to talk about some of the advantages of being short, which is where she totally lost me. Just how is asking for a booster chair in a theater a plus? And where are these kindly plane passengers who help put her luggage in the overhead bin? I live in constant dread of the overhead bin! I always try to use a bag that can be stuffed under the seat so I wouldn't have face uncertain death as I try to wrangle my luggage over my head.

So thanks for trying to make being short into a cool thing, but sorry if I'm not convinced. I'm too busy trying to find a booster seat so I can read this screen without straining my neck.

chinese + english = chinglish

According to this NYT article, Shanghai is making an effort to eliminate "Chinglish" from its signage. The article includes a helpful slideshow that demonstrates the dangers of incorrect signage...but also examples of bewildering translations, such as "Jew's ear juice." No, the Chinese are not running around lopping off the ears of Jewish people. Just an inexplicably bad translation. Hei mu er (what they're referring to here as "Jew's ear") is a type of herb, I think. The literal translation is "black wood ear"...I have no idea what it is in English, b/c I don't think it's used much in cooking in the US, if at all.

So there are differing feelings about Chinglish. Foreigners/tourists tend to find it very perplexing and funny. Some Chinese people do too, but there are also feelings of humiliation. I think it is a lot to expect another country to put up signs in perfect English--we generally don't have signs up in any other languages, except for the odd Spanish here and there. (My office building has signs in Polish, which is interesting. I can't tell you if they're correct or not, but there they are.)

While I understand Shanghai's effort to eradicate their mistranslated signs, I do think that there is unique culture here. It does give a glimpse as to how the Chinese language/culture works. And also, they're trying! I have a huge soft spot for people who at least try to take on another language. My Chinese is kind of getting iffy, so I speak a form of Chinglish that is more mangled on the Chinese side than I'd like, but I try really, really hard!

And the lost-in-translation thing isn't just in other countries--the US certainly has its share of gaffes when it comes to other languages. I'm willing to bet that there are thousands of Americans walking around in the US with "Chinese" characters tattooed on their bodies and no clear idea if it is actually a real Chinese character or not. Or T-shirts with other languages printed on it...yeah, it's cool to have Swahili on your shirt if no one else around you can read it, but do you really know what it says? A girl in my high school class had a lovely shirt that had "Self-Automated Car Parking" written on it in Chinese. And Six Flags in VA has an Asian-themed restaurant where they stenciled Chinese characters on the wall...except most were sideways, upside-down, flipped in reverse, or just plain wrong. Maybe you can call that ignorant, but it's also kind of funny, kind of human. They get points for trying right?

I guess what I'm trying to say is, mistranslation is something that everyone does, and people shouldn't be belittled for it when it does. Literal meaning might lost through translation, but I think a lot of cultural understanding can be found, too. Which is why I think my relatives can cut me some slack when I make a mess of their language...I'm trying, I really am!

ridiculous row

I was trying to get to sleep around 1am this morning when a man and a woman got into a loud, obnoxious fight outside my building. I didn't meant to eavesdrop, but they argued so loudly and for so long, I couldn't help but overhear the whole thing. I even got up and peeked out at them from between the blinds in case they got into a physical fight and I needed to call the police. The man seemed to be a middle-aged, thin black man in a dark jacket with the hood up. The woman looked to be younger, in-between normal-sized and plump. She was pale and wore her hair in a short bob, had greenish pants and was swinging around a plastic bag filled with something round. She kept running after him as he paced up and down the block (and also around and around a minivan parked across the street), all the time screaming loud enough that I'm pretty sure the entire 1300 block of Chicago Ave heard their conversation, which went something like this:

Man: Get away from me, you hooker! That was the last time I'm gonna to be tricked by an underage woman!
Woman: Baby, please, listen to me! I didn't mean to lie, I'm not a liar!
Man: I don't want nothing to do with you, you red-haired pixie! I am going home to my family and I don't care what the fuck happens to you!
Woman: What about all that stuff you said about loving me?!
Man: What stuff? I don't even know you! You lied to me! Stay away from me!
Woman: But I have no place to go tonight, please don't leave me here! I am begging you, please! Take me with you!
Man: Hell no! I am going home! To my family! I want nothing to do with you!
Woman [frantic]: Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me here!
Man: I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!
Woman: Where am I going to go? I have nowhere to go!
Man [emphatically]: You are a hooker, and I'm not going to jail again.

I cannot even make this stuff up.

todos somos illegales

I went to the May Day Immigration Rally downtown today. But b/c I am a journalistic fail, I forgot to bring my camera, so unfortunately I have no pictures to show for it. The energy was really fantastic, and I don't think I've ever seen so many American flags before in one place--fluttering on sticks, painted on banners, worns as capes. One guy pushed around a small ice cream cart and did brisk business selling popsicles and ice cream to the bystanders. Towards the end, young girls came on and called out for immigration reform. They were brought to the U.S. as small children, and all spoke perfect, educated English. It was very moving, and not to mention, very brave.

Flanking all intersections to the rally were cops. Blue-shirted cops on horseback and on foot, taking away one guy's drumstick b/c it was a "weapon." Cops in green, boots planted wide on the pavement, slapping their scratched-up wooden clubs solidly--and obviously--into one palm, then the other. It was a little intimidating, and I thought, man, those undocumented girls have some major balls to be speaking out in this sort of crowd.

All in all, a pretty cool event. I'm not a huge fan of rallies/protests (all those people shouting and marching in a crowded space makes me little bit nervous), but for their sake, I hope it got the attention that they needed. Obama, are you listening?