Frugal Gal Gives Money

I had a thought. It is really time for me to do something else besides worrying about my own ass and playing around with the iPod. I've grown to be a more and more concerned citizen and I want to be more active about the causes I care about. I think it's too soon for me to go out and start campaigning or anything, but I need to start taking steps. Eventually, when I have a better footing on my life, I'll be a bigger contributor. But for now, I have decided to become a card-carrying member of the ACLU.

I got all this info about them from my sociology instructor from a few semesters ago -- the same one who planted the idea that marriage is an option not a must (she also embedded some anti-men/anti-marriage sentiments, but that's another story). Just about a year or two ago, I was living inside a tiny box, and sometimes people like that affect me in a way so that my box just becomes slightly larger. Can you believe that until just a year or so ago, I never viewed marriage as an option? I mean, logically, I might have deduced so, but subconsciously, I think it was pretty much set in stone that I'd be condemned to eternal and barren spinsterhood if I am not married before I hit 30. Anyways.

I realized, that a lot of the opinions I had about controversial issues, i.e. abortion and the death penalty, were made under false assumptions and ignorance. I simply did not know enough about them to make an opinion either way and was declaring my opinions openly about them. Now I know better -- I know that there is no shame in saying that I haven't decided either way either because of lack of information or because I just can't come down to a decision one way over the other. But I think that was the time when I started making my way toward the left. And to think, I may still be rooting for Jesusland! (Just joking there!)

Well, although a woman is entitled to change her mind, certain bits of opinions that I currently have are pretty permanent (at least for now, if that's possible), and I agree with most of the ACLU's statements, including reproductive rights and gay and lesbian rights (to marriage) and death penalty, and of course, immigration, and other things too. I'm kinda iffy on the affirmative action situation (and to argue either way about it seems like beating a dead horse), but otherwise, I like what the ACLU stands for. Civil liberties and human rights.

It is actually my ultimate dream to work for these organizations. Something along the lines of Amnesty International, Red Cross, UNICEF, Medecins Sans Frontieres, WHO, etc. I don't think I'll be the next Mother Teresa (I can't even imagine being so selfless), but I really want to give my life (a part of it!) to humanitarian efforts. That's because love can heal the world and make it a better place like that Michael Jackson song. And it makes me so goddamn angry to see that some people on this planet are going without the basic necessities of life -- food, shelter, clean water, adequate health care, to name a few. Ok. It would be nice if everyone on earth can have their own iPods (that would instantly bring world peace, I know!), but honestly, so many people die or get permanent damage/scarring (loss of limbs, loss of vision, etc) for things that can be so easily repaired. It's like seeing people junking their cars because they can't get oil changes or fill it with gas. I mean, malaria? Even something as serious as HIV -- in the US, you can still be expected to lead a full life, but in Africa and much of India and South Asia and rural China, it's a guaranteed death sentence. In the US, there is no such things as a vitamin deficiency (except in rare cases with bullimics and such), and yet, 40% of the world population suffers from anemia and half a gazillion (ok, so I don't know the statistics to everything) children get xeropthalmia (blindness caused by vitamin A deficiency) around the world -- because they are starving. And something like that is irreversible.

I know I just sounded as though I can take on the world's most serious problems. And I know I'm just one tiny person. But there are a lot of people already working on the various problems, and I just think there is a place there for me to do my share. It isn't to say that everyone should pack up their bags and move to the African continent to feed the disease-ravaged villages. But just be aware. You know, it would be an excellent idea to have some kind of program for high school/college kids to go abroad and do humanitarian work, kind of like Peace Corps (which I always read as "peace corpse" until someone reminded me that a corpse is a dead body and the "p" is supposed to be silent) but more approachable. I think it would change the attitude of a lot of young people who are misguided these days -- giving them a whole new perspective would have a refreshing effect. And it would definitely be different from volunteering at the local hostpical doing paper-filing to beef up their college applications.

Oh boy. I can never stay on topic, can I? Well, I didn't digress too badly, and I still remained within the vicinity of the topic I started, so a job well done, eh? It's going to be nighty night for me now.

Also, if anyone has any sort of ideas as to how I can get more bandwidth to host images and other files? I'm currently using ripway (it's free) but with the increasing bursts of traffic due to blogexplosion.com, the images frequently don't show up because I'm running out of the amount of bandwidth given! I'm already paying $5 to villagephotos.com to host the images for the blog template to work, but I'm getting a feeling that I'll need something bigger and better. I'd appreciate any advice! (By the way, moving to typepad would not be an option -- I might have donated some money to the ACLU, but that doesn't mean that my frugal nature melted away!)

Is there an answer to this?

Read this -- click on "Bush Pushes Massive Amnesty Proposal".

Bush Pushes Massive Amnesty Proposal
Bush Offers Amnesty/Social Security to Illegal Aliens

Dear Concerned Citizens

The election is over. The President has declared that the election shows the American people approve of his plans for America. And he has wasted no time in sending his entire Cabinet down to Mexico to negotiate the next amnesty for millions of illegal aliens living in our country.

Whether or not you voted for President Bush, I am sure that you oppose a huge amnesty for 8-10 million illegal aliens. I am also sure that you oppose such an amnesty whether it is called an amnesty or an AgJobs bill or a Temporary Workers bill. It's all the same. It's a huge massive AMNESTY and Americans don't want it.

As you may all know, issues regarding immigration hits me right where it hurts. The things is, I am an immigrant (or wannabe immigrant, alien, take your pick). Technically, yes. I am a person who is a non-immigrant alien (let's not get into the legality of these terms -- I just hate being referred to as an "alien" and do not wish to get into all that) because I do not have US citizenship and I also do not have a permanent residency, aka the green card (which is now pink). But also, I have lived in the US long enough to have American blood flowing through my veins. While I feel extremely sympathetic to the illegal aliens, I also understand where the citizens are coming from in their opposing sentiments.

Schwarzenegger has recently denied illegal aliens from applying for a California driver's license/ID. That really gets my blood boiling, because my brother, who has all his papers in order and is completely legal and approved and everything, has yet to get his driver's license because of this. It's been a year since he's passed his driver's test, and he's still driving with a temporary. Furthermore, the DMV has sent a letter saying that proof of legal residence must be supplied to the DMV (which he did last year, and all his papers were complete) AND if a year has passed since he applied originally, he needs to pay another fee to start the process all over again.

OK. So let me see. Oh goody. We did everything the way we were supposed to, and submitted proofs and immigration papers and passports and whatnot, and all of a sudden, we are asked to submit everything again, AND pay some more money.

You see, it is one thing not to grant illegal aliens legal residency -- that much, I understand. But by denying ID's and driver's licenses, and putting other laws in place (some states have a law where hospital/health professionals in a public hospital must report if an undocumented/illegal alien comes to receive treatment), you are crossing the line between protecting Americans and violating common human rights. Why go overseas and invest billions of dollars to bring freedom and democracy to the Iraqis, when you've got plenty of people already on your land suffering from lack of freedom and getting their rights violated?

I know many ignorant fools who prefer to just scream loudly, "GO BACK TO YOUR OWN COUNTRY!" or "GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM!" As though screaming that loudly would block all the problems from gaining visibility. You know, the truth of the matter is, to a lot of these people, including myself, we are home. We can't go back to where we came from, because we are already at where we're from. We're from California. California is all I've known as a home. And some people may say, "well, go back to wherever it is you are a citizen of." I have no home to go back to. Same goes for many. All their families are here, and they have nothing to return to, be it Mexico or Guatemala or Korea. Isn't it just a tad bit cruel to force us to return home when we don't have a home to go to or a job to go to? A lot of people cross the border to escape. Escape poverty. Escape being stuck in poverty. Escape from the restrictions of their society. Because things are better here. Because everybody should be granted the right to pursue happiness and the right to have a better life. Isn't that what America is all about?

Well, I can just go on and on about this, but it saddens me that Americans, most of whom are immigrants or descendants of immigrants, are against other immigrants. Don't you remember the hardships that you faced when you first came to this country? Haven't you heard of the great difficulties of your parents and grandparents when they tried to settle in to this country, so that you can have a home to love? (Sigh) I don't care Bush or Kerry, just do something right about this situation. It breaks my heart everytime I come across these things on the internet.

Also read: The Rights of Immigrants -ACLU Position Paper

Enough with the Insanity

Ok. So yesterday I went a bit overboard with the whole iPod business. I promise to keep it a bit more sane now. It's still lovely and the novelty hasn't worn off (don't know if it would ever!) but enough is enough, right?

It's TGIF finally! I've got a lot to do this weekend, such as projects and research papers (all of which I've procrastinated until the last minute, as always). It is odd that these things are due before Thanksgiving, because wouldn't it be perfect for students to take care of these major projects over the long weekend? I suppose it would be convenient for instructors as well to grade these things over the ample weekend.

Although I have described in detail (as much details as one could have in a blog entry), although it seems I have alienated approximately 75% of all male specimens (according to Christopher over at Californian Sojourn), it really doesn't mean anything. Chris asked if it has been "raining men" but in all frankness, it's not even sprinkling men. It's a full-blown, severe drought, one that is definitely not seasonal.

I have given up online dating. I mean, I ask myself, "why?" It was the severest form of cruelty I applied on myself. Certainly, it gave me much to blog about, but that's not necessarily a good thing. I've met some interesting people, a few worthy of keeping touch, and a handful who I really want to club -- not club as in going dancing, but club as in "carry a big stick." Of course most were innocuous, but still. It has contributed to my diminishing faith in dating ever again. Some people think that I have very high standards or that I'm just picky -- but I assure you, I am not with the problem. I swear! Sure I can go nutty sometimes, but normally I'm not so crazy. Not crazy I tell you! In denial, perhaps, but crazy, no!

Hooked on the iPod but...

I was practically joined at the hip with my iPod. We truly bonded this afternoon, but then I realized, I have to get back to the real world and take an exam in nutrition. Exam on the wholesome goodness of vitamins and minerals -- we're covering weight loss in the next two weeks, so those of you with questions, you know where to direct them!

I longed to get back to the iPod after the exam, but then I realized that I had to have dinner, and I absolutely have to watch ER, as it is one of the few remaining television shows I watch nowadays. So I watched ER, and now I'm back with the 'pod. Is it too soon to refer to my iPod as the 'pod?. Currently listening to... Coldplay's album titled "Parachutes."

Transferring my music files to my iPod made me realize something. I have an eclectic taste in music. And it's just totally unexpected. I don't know if everyone's music files are as oddly diverse. I have things that are just the cheesiest K-pop and things like Coldplay, Modest Mouse, Chopin, Josh Groban, Thelonious Monk, Yo Yo Ma, Enya, George Michael, U2, Britney Spears, Eminem, Ludicrous (I know it's spelled differently but I just prefer to spell it correctly!), Pink, Love Story sound track, Les Miserables sound track, Craig David, Clay Aiken, Elvis Presley, Eric Satie, Gabriel Faure, and more. Ok. One thing I don't have much of is country. And perhaps punk and heavy metal. But I make up for those with classical baroque!

Well, better get to sleep now. Looks like I'm not going to have a problem getting off the computer tonight -- it's just going to be hard to turn the iPod off!

Life in the iPod

Here's my new baby:

The left is the giantic box the UPS guy handed to me. I expected it to be heavy, but it was surprisingly light. Of course, it was half empty. The UPS guy buzzed in at about 2:15PM-ish. I could have and would have just dived into the box with a paper-cutting knife and rip that box apart, but instead, I took the civilized route, of carefully extracting the iPod from the humongous box, and taking photographic records in detail of each step.

This, on the right, is of course the second box. Looks like the outer box, only smaller and more cube-ish. Looks like somebody had shipped this to Amazon.com and Amazon.com shipped it to me directly. Very compact. Shook the box and nothing rattled, allowing me to assume that there was another box, leaving no space for rattling.

Now, this is the actual iPod box, or at least the top of it, as revealed by opening the top of the aforementioned second box. You can see the Apple trade mark of the white apple with a bite taken out of it. It's an ingenious symbol actually. The designers at Apple are a bunch of hellishly sexy people, I tell you. They know sexy. I mean, it's difficult to make electronic equipment like cameras and computers sexy, but somehow, Apple shocks the world over and over again with their ultra attractive features. Amazing people. Amazing.

This is the iPod box, removed from the brown box. I mean, how great can this be? Even the box is cute! The box is adorable, and it's not one of those open from the top boxes -- no. These people even have to make the box ultra sleek and hot. Did I just call a box, hot? Yes. Hot box it is.

Here is the iPod box without the sleeve. You can see that the decorative sleeve was colorful, and there is a stark contrast, as the actual box itself is just monochrome. There's the best of both worlds -- punchy colors and classic black and white. I can just spend days gazing at the box! Am I going crazy yet? The First Song ever to be played on my iPod is... "Snow Frolic" from the Love Story sound track, which is also my ringtone at the moment (it is the background music I would want if my life were a movie and I was in a romantic relationship). I haven't unplugged my ears since plugging the headphones in. I don't know if I ever want to take them out!

This is the view after the box was split in half. The iPod box, unlike most conventional boxes, do not open with a little lid flap. It splits open in half, revealing two compartments. One side holds the iPod and the charger, and the other side contains the manuals and the various cords -- firewire, USB, headphones, as well as the CD.

Ladies and gentlemen. You have waited an excruciatingly long time for this. Please have the pleasure of meeting my new, ultra cute, ultra ultra fabulous, 4G iPod. (Swoon~)

Woohoo~!

Christmas came a little earlier this year with the arrival of my new iPod. I've actually gotten so excited that I took photos while unveiling the gem from the brown box from Amazon. The box was surprisingly light, but huge. I could fit in both my VCR and my DVD player inside it! Then I opened it to find another, smaller brown box inside it, surrounded by plastic balloon things (I suppose these are more eco-efficient than styrofoam packing peanuts). Then I opened the smaller box to find the colorfully decorated box of the iPod. I took a lot of caution and slowly extracted the box within the box.

First impression? I was amazed by its size. IT'S SO FREAKIN SMALL! I don't know if I had been looking at the previous generations of the iPods, but this one is definitely smaller than the one I saw at the iPod/Apple store. I don't know, perhaps the large box it came in screwed my ability to have clear perceptions. Ooooooh, and the chrome back! So shiny! It was covered in plastic film, and I was even sorry to peel it off. So precious. Could reaching nirvana be more exhiliarating than opening a new box of an iPod? I don't think so! Well, photos will come soon enough (currently I am using my only available USB port to upload some music to test the iPod for its first run, and can't plug in my camera at the moment.) But photos will follow soon. I promise. I know y'all are just rolling your eyes, saying, "not another post about the iPod" but this is just the first of many! I would kiss the perfect little thing if I didn't have lipstick on. Yep. That's how brilliant and fantastic it is. It's just fabulous. FABULOUS.

More interesting links...

Apparently, there's already an anti-Hillary blog.

Nothing can Justify This, NOTHING!

I got this link (Fallujapictures.blogspot.com) from Mr. Crawford Kilian's Writing for the Web. It's really gruesome and heartbreaking.

I know it's a pretty much universal truth that Saddam was not a nice guy. He probably will not go down in history as a benevolent dictator, I'm sure. But sometimes I wonder: are they better off now? Maybe everything will be better off 10 years from now when all the fighting has ceased, but the damage would already have been done. The children who lost limbs during this bloody attack -- what would they say 10 years from now when they are adults? What about the families of the US soldiers who lost lives? It is not to say that they died in vain for a worthless cause. I just don't understand what the US is doing over there. Even a loss of one life is just so precious -- can you imagine all these people, who were alive and perfectly healthy and well -- now they lie still, covered in blood and dirt, just waiting to be buried.

Banner

I needed a banner for blogexplosion.com and I wanted one that was animated. I never knew how to create a gif file, and this would be my first attempt. Not bad, eh? It's not beautiful, but it works.

Japan Expo 2004

I know it's kind of late. But I have two tickets for the Japan Expo 2004. The event is on Thanks Giving weekend, and I believe it is in downtown Los Angeles. I believe you can go either Saturday or Sunday. I don't know much about the event, but there's a bit of info on the webpage. E-mail me and I can mail it to someone. I know I should have sold it on eBay (shucks) but I completely forgot. Let me know soon people.

My Type of Guy

Tinka asked me: "What kind of boyfriend do you want? I know a couple single guys that live in the L.A. area. I just don't know what's your type."

Initially, I was speechless. What is my type? What kind of boyfriend do I want? Then the answer came quickly like a flood, rushing in: I want a perfect one! Then reality settled in. "Haemi, that's not going to be too likely. Is your head screwed on tight this morning?" I asked myself.

Of course, y'all know that I kinda sorta attempted to discuss this very topic a while back. That blog entry can be found HERE. I couldn't find anything conclusive from the discussed points, so this became my conclusion for the time being.

Nearly a year later, I feel that I am ready to tackle this issue again. I think I'll need to eventually find a solution for myself in this regards so that I can weed out the non-qualifying participants out of the race immediately without spending too much time on them and losing focus on the goal. You've got to be goal-oriented about something like this.

So what do I look for in a man? Let's start with the superficial. You've got to look like an average person. You know, I used to plea to the almighty about this. Please god, just please let me meet a guy who's just normal, that's all I ask! Alas, the almighty failed to provide, but it's not like I believed in a higher being, so I considered the whole episode null and void. But really. Superficially, my "type" of guy should be average. Not too hot, not too Shrek-like. Also, he should dress well, or at the very least, appropriately. That means NO RED PAISLEY PANTS! In all seriousness, sometimes the clothes do make the man. I don't expect to be dating a man decked out in Armani or Prada, although there's nothing wrong with Couture, but if you're wearing black trousers that are a tad too short (some may call'em high-water), and they reveal the color of your socks (black slacks and white athletic socks or socks of any bold color, i.e. red, periwinkle are not appropriate), I'll have to report you to the fashion police! I'll never be caught wearing Juicy sweats with words written across the ass-covering portion, or any sort of dress with double-sided tapes. I'm not going to quiz a guy on the details of the newest trends in fashion, but dressing appropriately is almost as important as refraining from passing gas in public! So a guy who recognizes appropriate attires is a major plus.

As I was saying, average. Not really average height (the average height of males in the US is 5'9"!) but I suppose averagely tall, if that makes any sense. Anywhere from 5'10" to 6'4" sounds alright. I'm 5'6" and I love to wear heels, which sometimes makes me a towering 5'9", but at the very least, a 5'8". I like men with hair on their heads. Not a fan of bald men, even if it was intentionally done. It's okay if a guy has short hair, brown hair, black hair, red hair, blonde hair, but if it's longer than my hair, I'd cringe a little. Not a fan of 'fros or that upside down bowl-like hair cut (see right) nor am I willing to date anyone who's greying. Also, no albinos. I would feel as though I were dating Silas, from The Da Vinci Code. So no albinos and no greying hairs and no baldies. I know love crosses all boundaries and whatnot, but I honestly think I should date someone closer to my own age -- so plus points if you're under 40! Yay!

Well, I should be a little bit more clear about the age thing. I don't think I can handle men who are too old or two young. Broadly speaking, perhaps about 23 to 33 years of age sounds about good. But that really depends on the guy -- a mature 23 year old is much better than a spoiled and childish 30 year old, and believe me they exist! So age is another thing I look at with much scrutiny.

Weight. I know this is a very sensitive issue in this politically correct society, but I have to address it. I am unwilling to date someone who is obese. This is not to say that I am judgemental -- I know how tough it is to be "fat" and rough it in the world. I know how difficult it is to control weight. But I don't think I have enough strength, patience, or love in my heart to embrace a person with a disease. And yes, obesity is a disease. Being obese means you're not healthy -- it means more to me than "he's fat." Obesity screams out to me that this man is possible of a plethora of other diseases and conditions: heart disease, diabetes, hypertention, just to name a few. As a person who's about to plunge into a health-related profession, I don't think I can handle those implications. A few extra pounds, I don't mind, and in fact, I encourage (although I guess one can argue how much exactly, is a "few" extra pounds) it. Hate to see a twiggy skinny guy. Rule of thumb, if I can beat the living daylights out of you, then I don't think I should date you (not that I resort to violence or anything!). Being muscularly developed is alright, but if you're buffer than Ah-nold, I'd have to think twice. If your biceps are larger than my head, it really doesn't qualify in my definition of average. Anywhere from 170-200 lbs, depending on height, sounds about right to me, although I don't go out and measure men's weights before committing to a date. Look healthy. Be healthy. Healthy is good.

Speaking of diseases. I am also not willing to date people who are terminally ill. Yes, that's cold, I know. But look! I haven't really dated in a long time, and I'd hate to see that my first boyfriend in three years is going to die in the middle of the relationship! So if the doctor gave you a sentence, telling you that you have three months to live, no. Sorry. I want a living body, dammit. I know y'all think that I am so weird to be obsessing over these minute details. But it used to be that I would tell my girlfriends that any guy who's nice and funny is A-OK. Then I had a string of men who were really extraordinary, special even, and by special I mean special as in people who have to wear a helmet at all times to prevent them from hurting themselves. Then this guy had the biggest crush on me and he was about 5'3" and he had no neck. "No neck?" you ask. "Waddaya mean, no neck?" Well, I'll tell you. He was short and stout, much like a tea pot. He was extremely overweight, possibly obese. His chin and cheeks seem to smoothly morph into his shoulders, causing him to look like he lacked a neck. He shall forever be remembered as the guy with no neck to me. So please. Be free of diseases, and please have a distinct body parts. If I can't tell where your chin ends and your torso begins, it is not a good sign. Please see a health professional.

Let's move away from the superficial things, as I am beginning to sound strangely insensitive.

Personality. The most important thing would be that he has a sense of humor. He doesn't have to be Jim Carrey. He has to like "The Simpsons." He has to know when to be light-hearted and when to be serious. He also has to be tolerant. Please, if you're a member of the KKK or the Skinheads, you need not apply. I know everyone's got their share of prejudice in their hearts. I know I've got mine. But it is important that you recognize that it is a fault and you have to strive to fix it. But no blatantly open racists and haters and misogynists. If you have participated in a hate crime of any kind, NO, NO, and NO.

Intelligence. The more intelligent, the better. Someone I can learn things from. It doesn't matter if he has a Ph.D. in rocket science or he just solves crossword puzzles in pen. He's got to be intelligent, but not be snooty about it. None of that "I'm better than you" attitude. I know I'm a snob already, so I know what it's about. If you know you're a snob, fix it. I secretly think that I am better than some people, and it's just so wrong. I know. I try to be humble at all times and think of the embarrassing situations I've faced because I were a snob. So at least I try. The guy's also have to know what's going on in the world. I'm not expecting any political science majors, but he's got to know that Arafat is dead and Saddam has been caught and Rummy has resigned and Condie will take over and he's also got to know some history, like who was the female vice presidential candidate in the '84 election.

Animal lovers. He doesn't have to love insects, and actually, I'd prefer that he didn't harbor any insects, pseudopods, arachnids, centipedes or other multi-legged (more than four) creatures in his home. But he has to like animals. He has to at least like dogs and cats and other furry creatures. He has to be humane to animals, which means no kicking dogs in the stomach because he's angry. Also, he has to love the environment. It's ok if he's not a tree-hugger or drives a Prius. But he shouldn't throw garbage out the window while he's driving. Biggest turn off ever. EVER. E V E R!

Also, I'd prefer men who don't smoke, and I'd also prefer men who like to drink. Not excessively, of course (alcoholism is a disease!), but a man who wants to share a bottle of wine now and then. Believe it or not, some men find it wasteful to have a bottle of wine with dinner at a restaurant. Granted, it's not something I'd do on a daily basis, as I am all for frugality (I am queen of being frugal!), but on a special occasion, a bottle of wine is nice. Beer's good. A midori sour's very nice. What was I talking about again? Oh yes. Men. So if you're going to pass out after a bottle of beer and I have to carry you home because you're wasted, that's a bad sign. Men who can hold their liquor. But don't worry. I won't hold beer chugging contests or anything (ugh, I have incriminating photos of me, with the end of a beer bong in my mouth, so I know what it feels like to be doing something crazy, and have it captured in film!).

Education. Education is extremely important. I'd prefer either a college graduate, or someone who is working on getting there. Someone who studies. Someone who knows the symbol for integration, and someone who knows a line or two of Shakespeare (they're all cliches, so you must remember at least a couple! "Once more to the breach..." "Friends, Romans, Countrymen..." "Et tu, Brute?" "Oh Romeo Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo" "Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York" etc.) and knows what a noble gas is (hint: it doesn't come out from your rear end) and at least faintly remembers what the Krebs Cycle is. He should know what the Constitution is and what the amendments are (I saw an episode of Jay Leno where he went out and asked people if they knew what amendments were and if they knew what the Bill of Rights were -- you can guess how many dead presidents turned over in their graves!).

A warm heart. I am not a lovey dovey person myself, and I don't even like hugging people (having physical contact with people I'm just not that close to urks me, and hello! Germs!). But I'm a warm hearted person, nonetheless. I am compassionate. I'm not going to be attracted to men who like to burn ants with a magnifying glass. That's plain cruelty. A nice guy. Isn't that just what women want?

You know what would be the cherry on a perfect sundae? A guy who buys flowers. What woman doesn't like flowers (except those with allergies)? It's a universal truth, and yet, men still don't buy flowers nearly enough. I've received flowers from one boyfriend on one occasion. My first long-term boyfriend never bought me flowers, because he felt that it was a waste of money. When I griped about it (I was 19, I was young and naive), he bought me flowers on the next Valentine's day. Only, it was a single rose encased in a plastic box, and IT WAS FAKE. I gave him credit for trying. His excuse was that he wanted to get me something that lasts. Uh-huh. I received a bouquet of roses on Valentine's day a year or two later, but that was it. Not even on my birthday have I received flowers. So buy me flowers dammit!

I'm going to cite one example where flowers are bad. My most recent date, which was I think in August or so, gave me two flowers. It was after a horrible date. He got in his truck, came out, and gave me two flowers. I think they were daisies or something like that. But they were sitting in the truck long enough that they were withered and browning. The stem was also about an inch in length, which was not at all pretty. So dead flowers you picked out from the lawn are not good.

Basically, this is a general guideline. I think more important is that the guy doesn't have a quality that just disqualifies him. For example, he can fit all this criteria, but if he tells me during dinner, "are you sure you should have that dessert?" I'm going to scream bloody murder. There are just certain things that just really freaks me out and makes me run for the nearest exit. It's hard to say what they are -- sometimes I am surprised to find myself getting freaked out over these things. You'd be surprised too, if you came across a guy who didn't know who Socrates was. Just makes me feel like screaming, "where have you been all your life? Do you live in a cave?! Honestly!" So that would be the answer to the question, "what is your type?" Men who follow the above guideline and who don't commit major faux pas (aforementioned black high-waters and white socks) are my type.

Please don't think that I'm just the horriblest snob ever for being so picky and insensitve. I'm not picky and I'm not insensitive at all. But believe me. I have met men who belong in a circus. If you've met them too, you'd be as paranoid as I am. I'm just being careful, that is all. Well now. That was a mouthful, wasn't it? I congratulate all who made it to the end of this entry. Give yourself a pat on the back!

Life in the Pod

I am seriously thinking of re-naming this blog, "Life in the Pod" as my life is starting to revolve more or less around the iPod. It was supposed to come today, and I looked forward to holding it in my hand and clasping it to my heart as though it were the Holy Grail, but darned UPS mysteriously decided to reschedule it to be shipped tomorrow. (SIGH!) But tomorrow, I shall have the iPod (UPS's schedule permitting) and I shall have my music! Until then, my computer will be on and pumping music from its speakers. Oh well.

Saved!

I saw Saved! tonight. It was good -- refreshing! For once I liked Mandy Moore. It was just a level up from the frequent "afterschool specials" shown in my "adolescent skills" class in the 8th grade. It's not a religious movie that offends non-Christians, so don't be peeved by that. I mean, I'm as secular as it gets and I had no problem with this film. So this film gets two secular thumbs up.

Sometimes, I despise the direction I am heading. Not really in my actions, but in my tastes, especially in film. Why am I getting more and more attracted by these "Disney" style films with forced happy endings? I used to be dark and cynical; I was the only 5th grader refusing to accept Disney's ending of the Little Mermaid and protested, rather vigorously that the truth of the tale be told! What happened to that vociferous girl with the surplus of 'tudes?

Recent family-oriented films I have enjoyed were: Shrek 2, Cheaper by the Dozen, Mean Girls, Freaky Friday, among others. Am I falling into that slippery slope into wannabe-soccer-mom-hood? Girl-scout leader? I am becoming a gargantuan softie in my old age.

I've even purchased the "Disney Winnie the Pooh Complete Multi Vitamin: Children's Multiple Vitamin and Mineral Supplement." (Which, by the way, is fraudulent; it says, "Great taste kids love" and it tastes extremely bad and I'm most certain that kids will hate it -- ugh, the aftertaste!) I mean, I had a coupon, but I could have easily bought another brand for the same price. I don't even like Pooh. I can't see why that dumb bear is even popular! The only sane character on that show is Rabbit anyways!

Ok, enough griping. I'm going to try to get to bed earlier tonight (aka before midnight). I'm having a hard time prying myself off my computer, but I'm sure as hell gonna give it a try.

Holy Mother of God!

The Virgin Mary appears in 10 yr old sandwich: Click here for the full article.

I love eBay! So interesting what people have to sell. It is the ultimate flea market!

Synopsis (if you're too lazy to click on the link and read for yourself): 10 years ago, a woman made a grilled cheese sandwich and took a bite. After a single bite, she saw the face of the Virgin Mary staring back at her and became freaked, placed the sandwich in a plastic case and let it sit for 10 years. Fastforward to 2004, when the woman decided to place it on eBay, getting over 100,000 hits and up to $20,000 in bids. Then eBay takes it off for whatever technicality they state.

I have to wonder if the bidders for that sandwich wanted it as a religious relic of some sort, or perhaps wanted to eat a very expensive and freaky sandwich. I'm sure they're a couple of Homer Simpsons in there among them...

Potpourri

The Blogger interface comes in multiple languages now, including French and Korean and more!

I'm having one of the most horrific days ever.

If you visited my site earlier and could not see the images, I apologize. I get free bandwidth from ripway.com and I exceeded my limits due to a massive explosion of traffic (well, what's massive to me is miniscule to many), images were not showing. They should be showing now.

I am re-evaluating my life, especially on the outlooks of marriage; perhaps it wouldn't be so vile. As long as my hubby-to-be isn't a beer-guzzling lunatic; there's only room for one beer-guzzling lunatic in a marriage, and that's going to be me!

My fabulous iPod is set for arrival on Wednesday. Toni notified me that some new wireless iPod is in the making, but I think I'm satisfied with my purchase. I was dumbfounded with the release of the iPod photo which comes with a color LCD and the ability to view photos, but it was much too expensive, and I don't need that much hard drive space when even my desktop computer has less space! I honestly don't even think that I have over 5 gigs of music/audio files.

My decision to purchase the pearly white iPod over the iPod Mini in pink was mostly for status. An iPod is a status symbol, and as a status symbol, the white reigns supreme. Also, I will be listening to my Pimsleur's French, which actually ends up being nearly 3 gigs. Also, my brother kept singing in my ears that I'll regret it if I get the pink because I'll get tired of its color. Which, actually, is completely untrue, because I love the color pink and I'll never get tired of that color. It's the ultimate feminine color and there is just no way to downplay that. Anyways. I got the 4G iPod 20GB, and that's what's coming on Wednesday. It will join my Canon S400 digital camera as two of my most cherished possessions -- my car being number one possession, and my computer being second. I think my camera and the iPod can comfortably share third place.

Is it weird that I rank my personal appliances? I just do it so that when there's some disaster (i.e. earthquake or terrorist attack or anything in between), I'll know what to take with me on the run. Of course, if there's no time to save my computer or iPod or camera or car, I'll just have to grab my kitty and go, because push comes to shove, nothing beats a living, purring companion. But if time permits, I'll grab Nabee, throw her into the car, gently place my computer (as it doesn't always land on its feet as my cat does) and the remaining items in order of their ranks. Sure, it's weird, but at least I'll be spending my last twelve hours during the apocalypse listening to my favorite tunes with my cat. What would you do?

Trans fat is bad for you. Avoid it at all cost.

Most of my classmates in my political science class are too young to remember who Paula Jones is. Which means, I'm getting old.

I was supposed to register for Winter semester classes. I completely forgot.

Shrek 2 is one of the rare movies that is just as good, if not better, than the first film.

I started on my first (and possibly last) novel this month. I was so horrified by my product that I deleted it permanently off my computer. I think it's the first time I've allowed myself to delete/destroy/throw away anything, as I am the queen of all pack rats. It was quite refreshing.

I need a drink.

My Blog is a Book

These days I frequently read my own blog. It's interesting. I see that column of links to my weekly archives, and click on a random one, and see what I had blogged that week. As y'all may know, I've written well over 200,000 words which adds up to nearly 700 posts, and I've been doing this for close to two years now (second anniversary on February 1!), so there's plenty to read.

I am always astonished by what I find -- I know I wrote them myself, but my blog is practically proof that people change over time. Like, for example, why did I pick out baby names for my future children, if I don't plan on having children at all (possibly)? I know it's just my thoughts now and that could change, but I'm not too excited about being a mom anytime in the next, say, 10 years.

There there was that time my work got burglarized. I remember that morning when I walked into work, so vividly, and it springs back into my mind everytime I lock up to go home. That week, I was so traumatized, I just blogged once in the whole week!

A lot of things have happened in the last two years that I've blogged about -- my blog isn't quite like the Diary of Anne Frank or anything of that caliber, but it's an important chronicle detailing the happenings of my life. It could very well function as the raw material for my autobiography. I'll be compiling my autobio when I become important and famous -- if Hillary can write one, and if Madeline Albraight can write one, and if even Bill can write one -- so can I.

I yelled at myself again today. Because I spent the entire day web-surfing, when I really should have studied for tomorrow's Philosophy exam, Tuesday's English exam and political science exam. Now I'm sleepy and tired and want to go to bed! I make myself sick like that. I scolded myself on not reading -- since my computer came back to life, I stopped reading. I can't believe that it takes a dead computer to get me to crack open and read! But I did barely finish "The Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown -- I'm just at the epilogue. I think the first 2/3 of the book is exciting as hell and just sooooo unexpected and so thrilling, but the rest was so-so. The final ending twist was nothing short of miraculous though, but I did guess right about Sophie Neveu -- I don't want to give anything away, so I'll just stop there. But I think it's definitely worth the hype and worth the time to read. I'm moving onto Dan Brown's other book, Angels and Demons, which features the same main character, Robert Langdon.

Robert Langdon is just sooooo Harrison Ford. You can just see the resemblance. Of course, Harrison Ford may be too old to play Robert Langdon in the movie version (I hear they're working on making a movie out of the novel), unless he can somehow go back about 10-20 years or so. But very Indiana Jones-y. I love Indiana Jones (here we go digressing again). He's smart, he's educated, he's passionate about his work, and his courageous and brave, AND he's sexy and just slightly rugged! I don't need a prince charming --I want my Indiana Jones. I'm not easily swooned like this -- I must be getting a tad lonely in my old, decrepit age. I let out a deep sigh every time Tinka or Toni use the word "boyfriend" in their blogs. I'm gettin' old.

Well, it's that time again (to sleep). I'm going to need a crobar to pry myself away from my computer -- ever since it was revived, I have been just completely glued to it! Practically joined at the head/monitor. I'm on the verge of crawling inside it, so I better just turn it off and jump in bed while I'm still sane. Nighty night.

Talk about Ironic!

Click to enlarge

Am I the only one seeing the irony in the advertisement for this article?

Ominous Sunday

Ugh. It is not a good Sunday. I felt it when I woke up. I've been procrastinating, but because I am tired. I just realized a couple of days ago that there is only a month of school left! When did the time go?

I have a Statistics project and homework (from last week!) and a philosophy midterm, and I have an English research paper, and a political science exam. I'm really behind and worse yet, I am starting to panic. I am not as doing as well as last semester when I was truly on top of my game. This semester I am struggling, and most of it is because I am just so tired. Stressed. Worn out. Somebody should've warned me when I popped out of my mother's womb that this life thing ain't gonna be easy! Somehow, I feel a bit deceived by the way life has turned out.

Just to explain what is going on -- I've gotten some bad news that will affect me immensely. I really don't care to share that with the world on my blog of all places, so that shall remain unknown. And I don't like the fact that I would be admitting its happening in writing. As far as I know, it did not happen and will never happen and I'm going to live in denial. It would just be one more thing for me to endure during this mess called "life" and I can't carry more on my shoulders as it is. Have I mentioned that I feel like the Greek mythological character, Atlas? You might have seen him -- muscular guy, holding up the Earth on his shoulders? Well, that's me. Only I wouldn't be holding up a globe naked. Some may call it nude, but I say "NEKKED!"

Anyways. I've only lived 24 and half years. It's not much to look back on, but somehow, it's not the straight and narrow path I've always thought it would be. It's gnarly and full of thorns. It's a rough course. And I think back and ask myself if I could have done anything in my power to change the course of my life. And the answer is, yes. It's my fault. But I did what I did and I just have to suck it up and accept it, right? Well, moving on.

You know, you're not supposed to fear anything but fear itself, but I always have this fear. And it's pretty big. It's the fear that one day down the road, I'll wake up and see myself so off course from where I've wanted to be, and I'll be just so totally lost. That's my fear. My 100 Things #22 explains that! I mean, it's an example. But I really do fear that one day I'll wake up and realize that I am not living the fabulous life I should be living! I mean, it won't happen, say tomorrow, although I do feel it to some extent, because I consider this part of my life as some sort of a training period -- I am preparing to live a grand life. Perhaps when I'm 35 or 45 years of age, and I'm still doing some 9-to-5 I hate, married with a bunch of children of hell, just barely trying to make ends meet -- I'll scream.

Have you seen that movie, Family Man starring Nicholas Cage? He wakes up one day (it's kind of like a dream) to find himself living a totally different life -- in reality, he's single, and he's successful in his job, and in the dream, he finds what he missed out on, which is a lovely wife and kids and loving family and home (although he works in some sort of tire selling business?). Well, in his case, he found what he was missing in his life, and he was given a chance to make it right. Well, that doesn't happen too often in reality, does it?

It's like spilling milk. Sure you can try your best to scoop it back up into the cup, but not much of it will be saved. And furthermore, not much of that will be drinkable. Life goes by like that too. One month of bad choices will take eons to reverse, if it can be reversed at all. For example, if I decided to get married tomorrow to a man who could barely support me and himself, and decide to pop out some kids, what would happen to my life? Would I still get a shot at the life I envisioned for myself? I'd have to be the soccer mom who clips coupons AND shops at Walmart. Can I go to Africa and save continent from the AIDS epidemic? Can I devote my life to teaching and learning? If I'm struggling to pay the electricity bills and phone bills and griping about my-manager-who's-younger-than-me-but-has-a-higher-degree-and-has-a-bitchy-attitude, can I be all that I can be?

I'm an optimistic person, and I would like to believe that anything's possible. But I also believe in repercussions. Sure you can have your cake and eat it too! Sure you can. But you'll gain another ass cheek and become overweight and your cholesterol will be higher and increase your chances of heart disease and diabetes (extreme, but intended for impact). I can balance myself between work and the bills and the two obnoxious kids and the beer-guzzling husband, so that I can go to school and get higher education and have my mom watch the kids while I go to another continent and save the world or march to Washington, DC and demand for a woman president (or whatever) and do the great things I should be, but I'll have to pay the price for that. My husband will hate me because he's a beer-guzzling alcoholic misogynist, and my children will need therapy because their mother is busy trying to save the world while leaving them alone and vulnerable and motherless, and my mom will hate my for making her watch my children from hell, and my dog will die from starvation because no one will feed him and it'll be all over town that my husband is seeing another hussy on the side!

Of course, then again, I can always marry a rich handsome prince who loves me for me and encourages me to pursue my dreams and my children will be so supportive of who I am and what I want to do and they'll be such darling angels and my dog will learn to survive on bugs and grass in the yard and the aforementioned hussy will revere me and become my new and fab assistant. But knowing my life, that cannot be counted on to happen. In accordance with the other happenings of my life, my husband should be abusive, and he'll beat me and the kids and they'll be taken into foster care where they'll be abused even more and they'll grow up hating me and I'll hate myself for living the life I hate and my mom will wonder what went wrong in my rearing and my dog will choke on poison ivy and die. Yep. That sounds like my life.

So that's what I worry about most. I'll just sit and say, "hey, I can get by without doing that stat homework" or "I can spend another year working at the cell phone store" and I'll just keep compromising with life and end up shooting down the slippery slope. I can hear the hellish kids screaming and the dog barking and that hussy with caked powder and tasteless red lipstick laughing at me with my ugly, fat, good-for-nothing husband. And that frightens me half to death.

Don't tell me you didn't know that I was neurotic!