Hi, soapbox. There’s always somebody that has to go there. I’m an American. I’m an Asian-American. I’m a damn cranky Asian-American at times. Like, say, when I see racist commentary.  WTF. It was a totally decent thread about crappy spelling until one person had to take it there. *growl*

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Grats to the Grad, David!

A quick shout-out to my little brother David, who is a fully-fledged pharmacist now! He graduated this past weekend up at Uni of Pacific, which was a bit further than I could travel on short notice with a gig coming up. However, I’m super proud of the huge levels of time, commitment and hard work that he put into completing that program. Like a few unnamed others, I admittedly thought it was a whim when he first announced he was going to pharmacy school after undergrad. And like a few more unnamed others, I was horrified by the city of …

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In which I’m cheap. Again.

Huh. So I just did something that was vaguely fulfilling in an internet-loitering sort of way. I had this 1-liter bottle of Coke from when I was studying for finals, y’see, and decided on a whim to actually enter the code in the cap. That was worth 3 points, their really annoying scripty-and-slow website tells me. Now, I don’t drink nearly enough soda to actually expect to earn anything through sheer unbridled sugar consumption alone. Nor did I realistically believe I’d sign on often enough that they wouldn’t end up deleting my account from lack of activity anyway — just …

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Life just keeps getting better.

…and what’s more? I have the world’s biggest, most horrific zit on my chin. No, seriously, it’s so freakishly huge that it makes me feel top-heavy. It’s one of those painful ones that’s not quite ready to extract, and I think “it” might actually be a “they”, judging by the topography and size. Yes, they are the Twin Pimples of Doom. Maybe I should pull a Nelly and just slap a band-aid over it. “Sewing accident, flying needles, very traumatic,” I’ll say when asked. Yick. It needs to be gone NOW.

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Party like it’s…

Happy Lunar New Year! Well, it’s not actually until tomorrow, but the partying starts tonight. 4,700 years (well, using this particular calendrical system) and counting, baby. And now, the public service portion of today’s post. This is the year of the Female Black Sheep. Some to say goat, actually, but any horned cloven-hooved fluffy beast should do in a pinch. Why the specificity? It’s a Yin Water year. Yin is female, as most know by now. Water is usually equated with the color black, because otherwise, you get images of soggy lambs in scuba gear. (No. Actually, there’s better reasons …

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Sigh. You know that slightly empty, tired and disoriented feeling you have after coming back from a big trip or having finally finished a really long book that you’d been completely caught up in? Yeah. Going through it now, after finishing an epic fic that took me about a month and a half to read, thanks to various real life obstacles. But it became kind of like a comforting habit, y’know? And now it’s done and that’s sad. *pout* Of course, I should go back to studying, since finals are, like, next week. So naturally, I’m considering getting out the …

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Urgh.

I got my braces off last Friday. My teeth have been kinda hurty lately. Is this normal, for those of you that’ve gone through it? I’m thinking they’re just not used to standing on their own and all the abuse the act of eating has put them through. So I’m going back on the liquid & semi-liquid thing until they settle down. I get my retainer tomorrow, so hopefully that’ll help out a bit. Urgh. *pops a handful of painkillers*

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a conversation

“How many credit cards do you think they have? And like, what’s the limit on them?” “They probably have those cards with no limit.” “True. What are they gonna say? ‘Sorry, we don’t think you’re good for it’? I bet Lance charges the space trip to his American Express.” “The Russians don’t take American Express.” “But they *do* take Visa.”

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Death by cookie.

The last two days were spent in a baking frenzy of epic proportions. Just trying to wrap my feeble mind around the sheer number of cookies we made is giving me a headache. I documented it, though, so once those photos will developed, you’ll get an idea. We sat there staring at them, piled on the counter, on plates, in large tins, on napkins, just about everywhere there was room, afterwards, sort of in dazed horror. At least four batches of a dozen each of seven different varieties, plus ten different icings. And wow, did some of those gingerbread men …

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The blur that was yesterday.

Cats. I remember the cats. And rock operas. And a legion of little brown bunnies. (They’re crepuscular, you know.) And something about using seven bricks of butter to make a dessert flavored of lobster. Hmm. Have to say, though, it wasn’t bad at all. The day, not the lobster mousse. I’m sure the mousse was plenty bad. All right, then, time to Do Something. Back later.

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