Four Bucks and a 35 mph wind chill...

So this morning I ran out of the house and forgot to pack a lunch. And then got to work and realized I only had four bucks on me. Rather than spend four bucks on something substantial (and let's face it, who here knows where I could get something "substantial" for four bucks? - Didn't think so.) I decided to go to the 4th level where there are vending machines.

Ahh yes, vending machines that hold to key to unhealthy living. All the unwanted fat and calories I could possibly ask for in just one package of self-dubbed "Homemade Grandma Cookies" or in "Fiery Habenero" Doritos which by the way comes in a bag no bigger than the palm of my hand and holds about the portion size of a 6-month old. (Doritos are my secret enemy. I LOOOOVEEEE Doritos. I have three bags at home hidden in a secret place for that certain someone who likes to come over to my house and chastise me for eating so much junk food. Take that, John Basedow, Jr!! :-))

I just finished my feast of Peanut Butter cookies, Cheese crackers with peanut butter filling, and Salt & Vinegar chips (I know it sounds disgusting right now but it felt soooo gooooood going down). To balance out the equation, rather than buy my regular binge drinking can of Grape soda, I opted for the 20 oz. bottle of Aquafina. That's right. I went for the 20 oz. Boo yah!

The wind is ridiculous near my building. Most likely because of the water, and how close we are to it - therefore when the winds pick up - they really pick up. Therefore, in the mornings, I grab the warmest clothes I can find. And seeing as I haven't got too many sweaters/long-sleeved shirts on hand (don't ask me but once I moved into Dumb-dalk I couldn't find half my winter or fall clothing that I once had) I tend to grab summer clothes and layer like a crazy woman.

But apparently this isn't good enough for the "semi-business casual corporate" world that I am in. Whatever that "Semi-business casual corporate" nonsense is. I got called in and told that what I was wearing yesterday was too casual and crossing the line. Not in detail, just that - that it was too casual. But this morning, it came upon someone to tell me in detail why specifically my outfit was too casual yesterday. Apparently - the "flannel" material, mixed with the attached "hood" was too casual. Flannel? What if I am cold? I had a decent shirt underneath but I was freezing in this office.

I was also told that my brown cords were "pushing it" that I had on today. Since when are cordoroys "pushing it" with the code? Do they want me to freeze my ass off and get the chills?

It was suggested to me that maybe I should go back and revisit the employee handbook for the dress code... I suddenly feel like I am back in Catholic middle school.

Office Politics...

suck my lil Asian woman ass.

That is all.

Two Posts in one day...

My boss told me that my goal is to get this entire project complete by the end of the year and I'll get a bonus. But I am so unmotivated. I don't know what it is. I feel like everything I do at this job is just ... bullshit on paper. I push paper all day long.

It's so difficult whenever I meet someone new and they ask me what I do. I literally sit there with a blank expression on my face for a few minutes. I want to say "nothing" but I know that's not a truly accurate answer.

I can just imagine the look on my boss' face as she sits at a bar for happy hour (she frequents a lot of bars in this area, mostly because there are a lot of bars in this area and also because she tends to fit the typical happy hour mold.) and some handsome guy comes up to her. They start a friendly conversation, smiles all around and then he leans in and asks her what she does for a living.

With complete and utter enthusiasm she perks up, her head lifts and her eyes widen and she grins wide and says, "I work in Commercial Lending!"

That's how excited she gets about this job. That's how nauseating it is for me to watch her get so excited about this job.

I know I am ready for something else. I am on the verge of jumping on the next employment train that comes into the station. It's just a matter of when and which train.

Easter is gone...a new birth and a new leaf has been turned over...

Well Easter has come and gone. I have no idea where it went. I just remember sitting in the basement of my parent's house, watching my little brother play Wii and wondering why I was there...

Easter just isn't what it was in the 80's. The Easter bonnets were still big then, with the loud ass ribbon print in my hair and the loud floral print on the dress with the extra light pink lace around the collar and the sleeves. Oh Lord, the sleeves were puffed like cream puff pies and my socks with white eyelet with the damn black or white patent leathers that you got at the local shoe store where your parents knew the owners by name.

Now, Easter has become just another Sunday that my family finds it pertinent to torture each other with the other one's presence. Literally, the moment I walked into the kitchen with my older brother the insults started spewing: about my clothes, my jewelry, my shoes, my make up...every single thing. It didn't bother me to the point of tears or being depressed or crawling in the fetal position, nor did it maim me in any permanent emotional distress...it did however get on my nerves and under my skin. But I kept my mouth shut. I just walked around the kitchen, got my plate of food and walked off.

Before Easter, A's baby was born!! Welcome to the world Baby Jackson! You're as cute as all the other adorable critters in your family! J said that he was a super happy baby, so I am so siked to finally get to see him in person and hold the lil' tyke.

As for the new leaf... I am just gonna start looking to find someone I am comfortable talking to. I think it's just that I need someone to hash shit out with, quite honestly. I completely understand my surroundings, and how people work and how they think (the people I have to interact with on a daily basis) but in terms of how to deal with it, I get lost now and again. Because just like me, those people are always changing. My parents are changing...whether its for the best or the worst I have yet to decide, but now I have no idea where to channel all of my energy anymore. They just drain me just...looking at them. And since they are my parents, there is really no other alternative except to deal - unless I were to move to an entirely different continent and even then, I am sure my mother would try to email me a ten paged letter about how much worse her life is than everyone else's. ...So that's my goal. It's not that I am completely discontent with my life right now ( as I said previously), but that I am discontent with how I am approaching things...the people, rather...my parents, to be more exact. My family to be even more precise.

Besides all that, it's Monday... and I am already ready for the weekend.

There was a reason I loved this blog...

Props to Latoya Peterson, correspondent for Racialicious for this awesome article.

Have you ever wondered "where the white women at?" ...Apparently, Details magazine knew all along. Who woulda thought it?

I think my favorite quote is this:

“The fantasy goes both ways,” he explains. “The women get to fuck our guys while their husbands watch, and we get to fuck rich white women, really mutt ‘em out. It works! But people in this lifestyle are affluent—I’m talking judges, CEOs, FBI agents, important people—so before they invite a bunch of black men into their homes, they want to know they’re safe, they’re not going to get robbed, and everyone is discreet. So that’s what I provide—a gentleman in the street and a thug in the bedroom.” - Art Hammer, head of the "Mandingos"

Ahhh...Jeeeesus, could it get any better? Who is this luscious Art Hammer and how did he know that that's what "rich white women" really want? "...a gentleman in the street and a thug in the bedroom"...Langston Hughes in turning in his poetic grave as we speak for Hammer's eloquent statement.

What better way to spend the last few minutes of my work day by reading "Meet the Mandingos"...

This article goes right up there with my Dad's own recent statement addressing the large amount of bi-racial children in Korea's orphanages (mixture of mostly American soldiers and Korean women):

"You know it wasn't the American soldiers' fault...you know those Korean women were standing there with their tits hanging out and their legs spread saying "Me give you boom boom for a dolla!" on the streets"

God Bless America for allowing my parents to adopt me (their Korean daughter) in all their racial ignorant glory.

Another Jolie-Pitt Addition that leaves that "just-puked" taste in my mouth...

Nothing like a I-just-hurled-a-little-in-my-throat feeling to get through the past week or so:

Poor Pax.

Some points where I particularly puked a little:

"One immediate challenge: the language barrier. Pax, who until now has only known life inside the simply appointed Tam Binh Orphan Center on the outskirts of Ho Chi Minh City, speaks only Vietnamese, while Jolie has learned a few phrases in his native tongue. Dr. Jane Aronson, a Manhattan pediatrician and international adoption expert who became a friend of Jolie's following Zahara's adoption, notes that Pax's years in an orphanage may initially slow his language abilities and that learning English will likely take several months."

A smaller irritating point, but a point at which I spit slightly. My response: No shit, Sherlock. You adopt an older child from a foreign country, it's going to take a while for them to adapt linguistically. I guess I am irritated by this always being made into a big deal. As if it is this sudden surprise that this child from a foreign country could actually speak a foreign language. Jolie/Pitt are not the first parents to deal with this issue. *sigh*

"Pax had not been told he was to be adopted until that day, for fear that "we might put pressure on him and make him more frightened," says Bui Thi Thanh Tuyen, his primary caretaker at the orphanage. When an overwhelmed Pax began to cry after meeting Jolie, she quickly showed her maternal instincts: "She told me she understands – that it's normal for all young children to be scared," says the orphanage director, Nguyen Van Trung. Later, after Jolie had taken Pax aside to comfort him, "he was very cheerful and happy," says Trung. "He even played with his new brother Maddox.""

This bothers me. So I guess a point of hatred can be spared and placed upon the orphanage director. Either way, whether you tell the child one week, or the day before, or even an hour before they are to be whisked away, wouldn't you be frightened, too? I think it's wrong to withhold that information, as if a "surprise attack" would make this poor child all the more pliable to be whisked away in sudden shock and taken to another country with some weird ass lady. Kudos for Jolie at least admitting that she understood that all children become afraid - shame on you, Nyugen Van Trung.

"Abandoned as a newborn by his birth mother at a local hospital, Pax – then called Pham Quang Sang – spent his days in the facility's structured environment: Toddlers rise at 6 a.m., when they brush their teeth and wash up before eating a typical breakfast of bread or rice porridge."

Definitely don't like this. The way they worded it, the fact that they put it in writing in an article...everything. It's bad enough that adoptees have to face some truth about their life as an orphan, but how would you like knowing that you could Google your name and get your entire truths on hundreds of damn websites? And, the whole publicizing of the on-goings of the orphanage (which gets better in the next paragraph) is just so...media-whored. It's bare-minimum, of course. And though I can't place full sentences or words together to express my entire feelings, I just know it doesn't feel right to me.

"Contrary to some reports, Pax's adoption was not fast-tracked, nor did Jolie, who requested a healthy boy – many of the children at Tam Binh are HIV positive – donate money to the orphanage in order to curry favor. "Things just fell into place," says Heidi Gonzalez, the Vietnam adoption program coordinator for Adoptions from the Heart, the Pennsylvania-based agency that arranged Pax's placement. "Angelina contacted me [in late fall] as I was looking for a home for Pax." "

In short: bullshit.