Snooty People

I have been working at my first steady job for a month now. For those of you who don't know, I work as a barista at my school café. I work three days a week for a total of twelve hours. I have seen over a thousand people in my line of duty and after a while, you get to know people. Well, this post today is about snooty people ("snooty" for lack of a better euphemism). You know who I'm talking about--the kind of people who are fake nice, fake sweet, and fake tan. The kind of people who give you forced smiles, automatic polite gestures (the automatic part making the polite part meaningless), and quick goodbyes. At first, I always thought you could tell these people from the way they looked--from the way they dressed to the way they carried themselves to their complicated "sugar-free, nonfat milk, and of-COURSE-I-don't-want-whipped-cream" orders.

But no, actually, the people I am talking about aren't that easily recognizable at all. The ones who dress in skin-tight clothes, streak their hair blonde, and take half an hour to order a drink aren't necessarily like that at all. Some are actually nice. Some actually stop to talk to you. Some make you laugh. The feeling is one of humanity and goodwill and what's better, it's mutual. I learned not to judge so quickly on appearance.

The fact remains, however. There ARE snooty people out there in the world, but it is not the heavy makeup, the perfect hair, or the high-pitched valley girl voice. IT'S THE EXPRESSION ON THEIR FACE. While I've met people who I've misjudged to be uppity have turned out to be nice, the ones who dress like normal people and don't stand out in any special way, THOSE are the ones that surprise me by their snootiness.

How can I tell? Plenty of things, but mostly it's the expression on their face. That's what it comes down to, my friend. I can tell when they're being short with me. I can tell when they would like nothing better than for me to just hurry up. get their order, and scan their immaculate credit cards so they can move on.

I can tell when the smile really IS faked, when it's done out of pity or contempt or condescension. I can tell it's fake by the way it makes their eyes crinkle in an unnatural way. Not the way eyes sparkle when they laugh or feel awe. It's just in the subtlety of it all. It's also in the way they speak to me. Their "thank yous" are always cut short, right after the "thank" part. Behind that shortened phrase, there are subtle layers of meaning. Things like "Come on, let's get this over with."

And I never would have noticed from the outside. The snooty people dress like hundreds of my other customers. But their facial expressions always set them apart.

I wonder if it's just me they subtly treat this way. I wonder if it's just Asians. Or females. Or just people who weren't raised the way they were raised.

Or maybe I'm just cynical. Or looking too deep into this. I don't know. Maybe I need to go get my head examined. Maybe I just need to go to sleep. I think I'll do that. Ciao.

Ever had a good day?

I woke up late this morning and just made it to the bus stop in time for the bus to pull up in front of me. Unfortunately, the bus driver held up his hand and said that he could only take five passengers. There were seven of us. Being the self-sacrificing son of a peach I am, I immediately started running to school, hoping I could make it in time for class. I plugged in my mP3 player and was sifting through all the songs to find a good running song when I heard a honk. It was a muffled honk, not the ones regular cars have. I looked to my left and lo and behold, there was another bus there.

Now let me explain something, the buses at my college town run every half hour and if you are walking on the path between bus stops when they pass you (even if they KNOW you need to get on the bus), they pass you by. They do not stop for you.

This one did. The huge bus skidded to a quiet, calm stop right in front of me, opened the doors, and...there was the smiling face of the bus driver lady. She didn't say a word, just smiled at me and waited for me to get on. Thank you, Karma. It's going to be a good day.

And it was. I went to my first class and got my quiz and test back. Made an A on both of them. I have a 95% in the class (and I didn't study for that test either). In my second class, I took an exam. Here's the preface to that story:

Since I had stayed up late studying for the exam, I was exhausted the next morning. Accordingly, when my alarm clock rang that morning, I turned it off and fell back asleep. When I woke up, I had fifteen minutes to get ready before the bus left (I already told you that story) so I had to skip breakfast. Well, I went to my school café to buy a bagel to eat so I won't be distracted during my exam by the soundtrack of my stomach. All this time, I was thinking I still had time to study the last few pages before the exam started.

I miscalculated. The exam started at 11 a.m. sharp, not 11:15. As soon as I got back to class, the teacher asked everyone if they were ready for the exam. What did I do? I spend a frantic 30 seconds looking over the last of my notes and then quickly put away my notebook before she passed out the exam.

Well, guess what? I knew what I was doing after all. The questions seemed familiar and the answers came easy. Thank God it's been good so far. Not only that, it gets better. I go to work and get to do a shift with my best friend. I finish my homework AND my paper. I take a walk with my buddies and we have a long, productive conversation.

Now that's what I call a good day. And to think it all started with a CAT bus.

Caffeine and...love?

I am swearing off caffeine. I had a glass of sweet iced tea with dinner and the caffeine floored me like a freight train. I almost fell asleep during my workshop and I struggled to stay awake while practicing piano.

Caffeine has a strange effect on me. My palms sweat and my heart races and my temperature fluctuates like a malfunctioning thermometer. Now that I think about it, the feeling is similar to how I feel when I'm in love. My palms sweat and my heart races and there's this sudden feeling of exhilaration and terror coming from out of nowhere. Of course, love is more intense than that, but the symptoms are similar.

They say that chocolate releases endorphins in your brain which mimic the same chemicals that are released when you're in love. I guess caffeine is my chocolate? All the same, the side effects are killing me. The ironic thing about my reaction to the substance is that it is usually the opposite of how most people would react to caffeine in their system. It depresses my nervous system, making it slow and lethargic. I feel drowsy and jittery for a while, from thirty minutes upwards to five hours. I become sleepy but not "natural" sleepy (and trust me, I know plenty of the "natural" kind of sleepy). It's more like drugged sleepy. Like when you are in the hospital immobilized with agonizing pain and the doctors give you pills that make you sleepy just so the pain is dulled and you won't complain.

Oh, well. I had to swear off coffee a year ago. Forgoing caffeine altogether won't be so bad, especially considering that it doesn't stimulate my system in a productive way at all.

P.S. I have decided to start leaving a quote of the day or word of the day on my blog. Bit of an educational/humorous side to my daily rants. Today is a quote.

Quote of the day: "Questions or comments? I don't take complaints." ~Dr. Linda Dzuris, my favorite college teacher

A run of good (and bad) luck

The good luck is that I woke up in time to take the practice GRE at 9 this morning. It wasn't so bad; it was just like the SAT. Craig and Johnathon are going to take it, too and if I could do fairly well, then they'll do stellar.

The Kaplan people who were giving the practice test gave us a ten minute break between the math and verbal sections. They had this table with bananas and granola bars on it. I ate one banana and...three granola bars. I need to stop eating like a pig.


Johnathon called me after I finished and said that he wanted to give me a present. I ended up eating lunch with Johnathon, too. We tried out my magic 8 ball (that was the present) while we were lunching at Paws. Johnathon tried to make me eat more, but I had so many granola bars that I ordered just mashed potatoes and gravy. I forgot that I still didn't have my wallet so I had to pay for my meal entirely in change. Luckily, I had just enough to pay for my $1.96 and have three cents left. I went back to Johnathon's place where I asked him about the math problems I encountered on the GRE and I watched with astoundment (is that even a word?) as he solved them. So simple! If you knew the formula...which I didn't. I better brush up on geometry then.

Johnathon drove me home afterwards. I spent the next two and a half hours napping and having strange dreams about Java City.

I made brownies when I woke up and...that's where George and Craig found me when they came to the apartment--on the floor with a tub of brownie dough. I froze while they laughed hysterically. When Craig saw what I held in my hand, he immediately looked confused and repulsed. "What are you doing pouring blood over rice?" Like I was an Asian vampire or something. He soon realized that it was brownie mix.

After I made brownies, I left George and Craig to play magic while I did homework on campus. That...did not go well. I originally went to the bell tower to practice music...just to find some ho bag up there with her family or friends or something. What a...! Cutting into my practice time, I muttered as I made my way down the carillon stairs and the other four flights of stairs to Tillman's first floor.

I decided to re-route to the Brooks Center instead so I can practice piano as well. I found out it was closed. At six. On Saturday. JUST Saturday. Every other day, it was open until midnight. WTF, mon?!

I heaved an epic sigh and turned heel to go to the library for research. As soon as I got THERE, I saw the security guard inside the library checking to see if the door was locked.

"Is the library closed?" I asked, half in hope, half in despair.
"Yup, it closes at 8 on Saturday."

It was 7:58 p.m. Curse! My! Luck! Curse everything! A part of me wanted to shout at the lady. ("Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow!") Another part of me just wanted to break down and cry. I was just about to do that latter (and, hence, not make a scene) when someone beside me spoke up.

"Is the library closed?"
"Yes...!" I couldn't help but wail. The speaker turned out to be this girl named Monica. I immediately recognized her. She didn't remember me at all, but we ended up introducing ourselves.

Monica and I went to Brackett to study. She left around 10:00 and I stayed for a while longer. I tried to send out a few important emails but then my computer crapped out on me and I was like, "I've had enough! You can take this and shove it!"

I'm not that angry in real life, I swear. In reality, I just rolled my eyes, logged off, and went home. I retold this entire story to Craig later that night over Hershey's brownies.

Matilda

I'm. SO. HAPPY.

But I'll wait until later to tell ya why.

I woke up at 10 a.m. this morning. Mmmm...now that's what I call sleeping in. Actually, I think I'm the only one who calls sleeping-until-10 a.m. "sleeping in." All of my friends sleep until past noon on the weekends. Anyway, I got up and left for Greenville.

I was worried about driving because of all the rain, but it wasn't so bad. Definitely wasn't as bad as the time I drove through downtown Greenville in torrential rainfall.

After church, my friend Jenny wanted to hang out, but my father wouldn't let her come over to our house so I had to leave her at church. My brother called me while I was filling up on gasoline and apologized for my father's behavior.

"It's just because he doesn't get to spend a lot of time with you and having someone there...gets in the way of that."

Yeah. Like I would want to hang out with my father anyway. I can tell I have no more affectionate feelings for him considering that I call him "my father" instead of "Dad."

"No, I understand," I told him. "He's sick and stressed out and he doesn't want to deal with this." By this, I mean Jenny coming over.

Anyway, I ate lunch with the family and then scrounged around the storage shed for "supplies."

Jenny and I did get to hang out later on. We met up at the mall and hit up all the preppy stores so she could find what she called a "plain shirt." I also dragged her into any store that had a sale but, of course, being the cheapskate I am, I didn't buy anything. I did finally purchase something at the movie/CD entertainment store, but it's...um...things I can't mention here.

I was surprised because Jenny and I were discussing music in the entertainment store and we share several commonalities in our music taste. I have always thought that her music taste was identical to my brother's, but she likes a lot of the same boy bands I do. Huh, you learn something new every day.

Anyway, it was raining by the time Jenny's father picked her up and she asked him to give me a ride to my car. She freaked out when she realized how far away I had parked and the fact that I walked there from the rain. HONESTLY, it wasn't THAT far away. I parked at the next store over. I think Jenny is just so used to being driven everywhere so she thinks ten yards is far away.

"When you walk half an hour to school every day, now THAT'S far away," I told her. Of course, she would never walk that far to school.

Finally, I came back to Clemson and immediately set to cooking dinner. It took an hour, but was well worth it. I also cooked enough so that now I won't have to cook for the next three days or so.

After homework, I finally got around to reading my friends' blog posts. Ben, the modern gentleman, wrote about his gaming escapades. I liked how he used words like "ballin" and "own my face." Very characteristic of him. Melissa's blog posts about today made me yearn for long, rainy beginning-of-autumn days spent with friends around campus. At least I got to hang out with Jenny since I won't see her again for the next six weeks.

Craig's post was full of whatever "blarg" is. He wrote about how none of his friends writes ten paragraphs (single-spaced, left flush) about how awesome he is. Well, I'll show him.

Lastly, the blogs make me wish I had friends like that to spend time with and share adventures. I feel like Matilda Wormwood sitting in her room reading about heroes and knights and princesses and dragons. How she longed for a friend like those she read about in her books! The only way she could escape her family life was to immerse herself into books, stories that writers have sent out into the world...like ships onto the sea.

Friday night....party? Nah.

I went to bed early. And by early, I mean 10:35 p.m.

I got off from work half an hour earlier, mostly because we were slow and I had two people to help me close instead of one. Well, I was so tired that I barely had energy to shower and cook dinner. After I got off from work, I called Craig like I said I would and actually ran into Will Dukes while I was walking to the bell tower. He offered me a ride home, but, being the doormat I am, I said no. Besides, I couldn't ditch Craig up in the bell tower.

Well...I could ditch him and he couldn't do anything about it, but...I didn't.

Craig was playing "Prince Ali" all over again but I only heard the first few lines because I had entered Tillman Hall by then. It's so weird how they have Tillman Hall all soundproofed so that you can't hear the bells AT ALL, even if they are only four floors above the entrance.

Well, I was even more exhausted when I climbed up the four flights of stairs AND the ones leading to the bell tower. I could only flop down onto a bean bag and listen to Craig play. I was too exhausted to even get up and pick up Craig's phone when it dropped out of his pocket, poor guy.

Anyway, Ben and Melissa wanted to go to Planet Comics in Anderson to look up Magic cards. I was originally going to go home, but Craig convinced me to come anyway. I guess it was just as well because I ended up buying my first Magic core deck--black with vampires. How befitting.

I got home and after cooking dinner, Craig persuaded me to try out my deck. George, being addicted to Magic at the moment, came over when he heard the news and I spent some time with them, too. Luckily for me, I quit having thunderstorms that very night. I played Magic against Craig and I told him about the "no more thunderstorms" before retiring to sleep.

Thursday's thoughts

I went to the Imani winds concert today. Of course, I left during intermission. I only had to have enough material to write a two-page reaction paper for class and I garnered enough material so I don't expect to stay for the entire show.

Gah, I can't believe that I used to spend my free time during sophomore year going to these things. Sure, I enjoyed the performances then, but now I have no patience for them. They don't seem as lively to me. Or as stimulating. I used to think that going to hear classical music concerts broadened my horizons. Or stimulated my brain somehow. Maybe they did and it's just in a way I can't see. In any case, I can only remember sitting in a darkened theater room with a group of musicians playing instruments. I don't remember the pieces at all. The only pieces I ever really liked were "In the Hall of the Mountain King" and the one time the orchestra played the surprise piece of "The Pirates of the Caribbean" theme song. That was awesome. I love the music from the movies and having it performed live in front of me was a worthwhile experience. That's one of the things I would put on a list of "things to do before you die". That and "sitting under a waterfall."

Anyway, I do enjoy the jazz concerts. I think I'll go again this year.

I hung out with Johnathon after the concert. He hadn't eaten dinner yet and so I accompanied him while he ate at Waffle House. Ironically, I spoke more than he did this time because he was running on three and a half hours of sleep. Apparently, he's quiet when he doesn't have enough sleep. I spent the time recounting tales of my class experiences. I told him about how I would write stories with my classmates while we sat right in front of the teacher and how we found a used condom in class the day we started talking about Sexuality in Marriage. Very appropriate.

Anyway, Raven called us as we were driving back to Heatherwood. She had just got out of the concert (the one where I bailed halfway through) and wanted someone to pick her up. "I thought that was why she called," I said shrewdly. Johnathon couldn't stop laughing after I said that and, of course, I couldn't understand why.

"You're just a funny person," he told me. "The way you are is ironic. You're just...ironic," he said, still laughing. Oh well, I thought as I shrugged. If it entertained the peanut gallery then...good for me.

We picked up Raven and dropped her off at home. I said goodbye to Johnathon and went home, too. I had dressed up that day--chocolate floral sundress and up-to-THERE high heels. I don't usually dress up for music performances but I felt like it this time. I looked good, too. Yes, it was one of the times I allowed myself some vain thoughts. Actually, I think it was the heels. They made me legs stand out all sexy and animalistic-looking. Dayuuummm, was all I had to say.

Grr...Graduate School

I spoke to at least three different teachers so far (Dr. Paul Merritt today) about graduate school and all it did was make me even more worried. I walked home after class (yes, we did have class. I checked my email twice to make sure there was no "class is canceled" email before I left) and because I was so worried over graduate school, I kept grrr-ring and rawr-ing the entire way.

Burger Studio

I called Craig after class today and asked him how I could find this place called the Burger Studio. He had been raving about it for the past few weeks and after the exam I had just taken (while running on very little sleep), I decided to reward myself and try out the Burger Studio.

Craig directed me to walk through the park. Which I didn't. (I'm bad at following directions.) Somehow, he knew that I would walk around and so he changed his course and met me anyway. We stood in a ridiculous line at Burger Studio and, of course, by the time we got to order, the crowds was practically gone.

We also ran into my friend Matt and I asked him how he was doing.

"You still playing the bells?" he asked me.
"Yes."

We didn't get to talk long because he got a phone call soon after I said hi to him and also because Craig was snickering about something. Later, when I asked him what it was, he said that Matt had been looking at me for five whole minutes and then looked away. When I finally saw him, he turned around like he had just noticed I was there and said, "HEY!" in the most enthusiastic voice he could muster. I didn't pick up on that. Then again, I don't pick up on a lot of things.

Craig and I spent lunch eating our burgers and talking about how Bagel Kid got engaged. Craig also showed me how Bagel Kid made up these humorous lyrics to Arabian Nights.

I can't reprint the lyrics here but let's just say that if I were in an anime right then, I would have fallen off my chair laughing.

Here's what I did today...

Aside from the earlier post of taking twenty minutes to walk to class just to find out that my teacher had canceled class, here is what I did today:

Went to the Salvation Army. Which made me realize that the question everyone should ask themselves is not "To be or not to be?" but instead: :"Should I buy an entertainment center at the Salvation Army or at Wal-Mart?"

Went to lab and actually participated in the discussion. THREE TIMES. I'm becoming outspoken...I like it.

Went to music practice in Brooks Center where some fly kept buzzing around and annoying me. I hurt my hand three times by trying to smack that thing out of existence. Apparently, I repeatedly forgot that my fingers are not flyswatters and that they feel pain when they slam against wooden objects. Either that, or I'm subconsciously masochistic.

Went to work where I was on my feet for six hours serving people coffee, whipped cream, other drinks, and the like.

I was able to work with a variety of my employees today, too, including Brittany, the new girl with short red hair. We didn't get to talk much since she left soon after I came in. I also worked with Gary, Brian, Jamie, Flen, Will, and Eric. Jamie, Gary, and Will are my favorites.

The line was also more insane than usual. Normally, after six or seven o'clock, business gets slow. This time, business was booming around that time. There was a steady stream of customers even after I left. Will came in at nine but I stayed on to do register and ring people up so that there would always be two people behind bar. Even then, we had a hard time keeping up. "Let's get this done," Will said to me after he noticed that I had stayed behind to help. Luckily, I didn't have to do register all day. Gary took care of customers for two hours when I first came in and Eric did register for the last hour. I was put on register for the three hours in the middle.

"Aw, come on, Lan Chi! You love to do register!" Jamie, my boss, said. I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or trying to coax me. Or both.
"Of course I love to do register," I said just as cheerily/sarcastic. "Why do you think I have this job?"

Jamie laughed. I'm glad she likes me.

And then I walked home after work, showered, and helped my brother revise his very first college paper. He made me download something called Skype so we could see as well as talk to each online. I thought it was a strange invention.

Craig came home from George's place and I reintroduced him to my brother. Then Craig went to sleep. As should I.

Good night,

jumirawings

My teacher just canceled class (again) today. While I'm thankful for the extra hour of free time, I wish he had sent the email before I took twenty minutes to walk to campus.

Also, my poor teacher has bronchitis and is going back to the doctor so I can't be too hard on him, the poor guy.

Thunderstorm

This post is for today.

No thunderstorm warning. No rain.

Also, John is going to give me his VCR/DVD player! Woo-hoo! Now I can watch movies the old school way.

Thirdly, I don't EVER want to be late on homework again. It piles up on me and then I get stuck doing it for hours on end. If only I didn't get so annoyed by that one teacher...*shakes fist*

Lastly, I learned an important lesson today--be yourself. Do what you want to do. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone or infringe on the rights of others, go for it. Don't hold back. Don't hesitate. Don't sit and wait. Time and tide wait for no one and so no one is guaranteed tomorrow. If you can't make the moment last, make it memorable.

Goodnight,

jumirawings

Saying Something

This was an incident that happened on Saturday, September the 18th. I just wanted to write it down before I forget it.

I was supposed to go back to Greenville today, but Craig wanted to come with me to campus for music practice so I waited while he took a shower. We took the walk downtown and stopped by Jugheads so Craig could try out their hot dogs. There, the menu listed things like the Dabo dog (which Dabo Swinney himself ordered once), and something called the Frank Howard.

"Do you guys know Frank Howard III?" Craig asked the Jugheads employees.
"YES," said the blonde girl who was taking Craig's order. "He comes in here and gives us celebrity nicknames. I'm Taylor Swift."

Craig, laughing, recounted his first encounter with Frank Howard III: "He tackled me once."
"Well, he calls me Taylor Swift every time he sees me downtown. 'Taylor Swift! Taylor Swift!'"
She pointed to the other two employees. "What does he call you?" she asked one of them. "T-pain? Yes! It's T-Pain. And you, Brandon, he calls you John Cena."
"No, he calls the other guy John Cena," Brandon corrected, grinning.
"That's right."

Craig ordered a hot dog and something called blue cheese chips. He thought they were blue cheese flavored potato chips but they ended up being fried potato slices with blue cheese crumbles on them. I ended up helping him eat them while I asked him what relish was and who in the world was Frank Howard. Apparently, Frank Howard is a famous Clemson football coach. The stadium at my school is named the Frank Howard Field after him. "In giant, people-sized letters," Craig embellishes. I shrug. I never notice anything.

Craig also called me "very Asian" for not knowing what relish was, too. I think I'll order it next time I eat.

Anyway, we went to Spill the Beans afterwards where Craig bought me a chocolate cheesecake milkshake and we spent time talking to Rick and Calla (who happened to be in there). Katie Mitchum ended up giving an extra chocolate cheesecake milkshake to Craig, who handed it to Rick and Calla instead.

We left Spill the Beans and went to music practice in the bell tower. Practice consisted of playing our assigned pieces for, like, five minutes, and then spending a whole hour playing the gamut of Disney songs out of the songbooks they had up there. And by "they", I mean Dr. Dzuris--my teacher. I just call her Doctor. I used to call her Dr. D, but that reminded me of Dr. Doom from the Fantastic Four and she's too nice to for such a comparison.

Meanwhile, George and Craig were sending "messages of the textual variety" back and forth between our alternating Disney songs. George wanted to pick us up when we were done practicing.

We were going to meet him at Subway and we almost missed him. I was about to walk downtown when Craig waved me towards the stairs.

"We're going this way," he said. I caught the sight of something familiar out of the corner of my eye and it wasn't until I was already up the stairs that I turned around to see George waving at me from his car. I waved back.

"THERE'S GEORGE!" Craig exclaimed.
"Well, yeah," I said dumbly. "I was waving to him."

By that time, Craig had dragged me back down the stairs and George opened his car door to let us in.

"Go! Go! Go!" Craig yelled. He made a dive for the backseat while I calmly seated myself in the front (bit of a role reversal there. I'm usually the hysterical one in situations like this).

"Hi, George," I said as I got in the car, buckled up, and lied back. (I had left the seat in the laid-back position.)
"You guys walked right past me!" George exclaimed.
"We did?" Craig asked, confused.
"Yes. I was right there and you guys walked right past me. Then I waved hi to Lan Chi."
"Well, I waved hi back," I said defiantly.
"And you didn't SAY anything?!" Craig said, indignant.
"Oh, was I supposed to say something?" I asked, in my meek defense.

Craig just rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. I looked up and didn't see anything there. Sometimes, I wonder what he's looking at when he does that...

My 21st Birthday

My 21st birthday was stressful at first. Locked my keys in the trunk of my car. Spent most of the day doing homework and trying not to fall asleep.

I just wanted to cook Craig dinner for my birthday and then go to sleep afterwards but Ben and Melissa wanted to take me out. To dinner. For my birthday. Whoever heard of such a thing?

Anyway, I had no choice but to consent so we were all going to get together after Craig left lab. He didn't leave lab until 8:42 p.m. but it gave me just enough time to finish homework, do music practice, and shower before I had to meet everyone at Finn's. I chose Finn's Grill because of the three choices, I liked it best. Ruby Tuesday was associated with a less-than-happy memory and Tiger Town Tavern had horrible bathrooms. (I'm a snob about bathrooms). I've never been to Finn's before and it was closer than going to Anderson so we met up there. It wasn't until Craig called me as I was walking there that I found out it was a seafood place. Good thing they served more than just seafood. There were chicken and pork entreés as well. Neha ate beforehand since she was a vegetarian and George didn't eat anything. I originally thought that it was because he had already eaten, but it wasn't until later that I discovered he was living on $1.06. Craig ended up buying him pizza at Little Caesar's right before George took me to Tiger Town Tavern to get my free t-shirt. Now that I think about it, I'm glad I didn't choose Triple T's either because it was loud in there. Plus, there was this male announcer that kept saying, "Four or five? How many Free Willy movies were there? Four or five?"

"Five!" I said obnoxiously. Everyone should know that no movie franchise has ever made above four movies. Not in America, anyway.

Oh, I almost forgot about the gifts. Ben and Melissa had bought me this hilarious birthday card that was meant to be given to a cancer patient. Under any other circumstances, that would have been a very depressing card, but getting one for my birthday was priceless. In the pink Disney Princess gift bag were three other gifts: a kick-ass fedora that I (of course) put on immediately, a collectible tin of Yu-gi-oh cards (woo-hoo! Now I can one-up Craig!), and a tiny chocolate birthday cake with a fairy figurine on it. I can't wait to eat that tomorrow.

The waitress also gave me a gift: a free shot that was, like, the equivalent of three shots. It was in this whiskey tumbler that held fruit flavors, whiskey, and peach schnapps. Definitely much more alcoholic than the sex-on-the-beach drink I had previously ordered. As a matter of fact, she had given HER favorite shot because I had ordered her favorite cocktail. Well, after chugging the shot on an empty stomach, I...don't think I'm ever touching alcohol ever again. Seriously, that one shot made me dizzy for the rest of the meal.

Anyway, we all said goodnight soon after dinner and everyone went home. Apparently, Eric, Neha, and Qiu were all shocked that I didn't tell them it was my birthday dinner...Whoops. They were still nice enough to wish me happy birthday, give me a hug, and pay for my meal, respectively.

I was going to walk home by myself and do that meditative, reflective walk on my 21st birthday like I had planned, but after Craig bought George pizza, he insisted on driving us home. Actually, he was insistent on driving us home whether we bought him pizza or not, but...I digress.

Anyway, the last thing in this post is about..George. He gave me the front seat while Craig sat in the back (cramped, mind you) but that was probably because it was my birthday. When I slipped out of the car, however, I started prancing around in pain and shouting, "My butt hurts!" Apparently, alcohol DOES lower your inhibitions.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I don't censor myself when I'm drunk."
"Did you just say that your butt hurts?" George asked.
"Yes," I repeated.
"Awww, I'm sorry, Lan Chi," George said, hugging my side. By that time, Craig was out of the car and George said goodbye to us.
"You get one more hug," he said, hugging me again. "Because it's your birthday."

And...I end there.

Love Confession Scene

Being the closet romantic I am, I often amuse myself by fabricating confession-of-love scenes in my mind. You know what these are--those scenes in a movie, book, etc. where one character confesses their love to another character. Well, this time I was inspired by looking at a photo and it suddenly sparked this dialogue in my head. "That is awesome," I think to myself and so I elaborated on it. I drew up a back story that led to this confession scene and this is how it goes:

A boy and a girl have been childhood friends all their life and the girl is madly in love with this friend, but never says anything. When they grow up, the boy gets engaged to someone else, but is drafted to go to war. He becomes injured in the war and comes back disabled and disfigured. His fiancee, however, is disgusted with his disfigurement and she leaves him.

He is devastated by this. Sadly, his parents have also died and they have bequeathed him their giant manor house. He shuts himself up in it with only one caretaker to look after him and the house. Unbeknownst to him (but beknownst to us--Spaceballs reference), the caretaker is actually the childhood friend. He doesn't recognize her because he spends all his time brooding about his scars and the love who left him. The old friend still loves him but does not say anything because she sees how much he mourns for his former fiancee. Instead, she does her best to take care of him and the house. Whenever she feels like she wants to be with him, she goes up to her room in the attic and looks through old photographs instead.

The two don't talk often but once, he does ask her if she has ever lost anyone she loved. She replies yes and he assumes that her love must have died. He does not know that she lost him to someone else.

Gradually, this man grows to love his caretaker but feels as if she wouldn't accept him because of his disfigurement. It isn't until later that he realizes who she is--his old friend. This happens when he calls for her but finding her not responding, he goes up to her room and sees her smiling yet crying over a photo album. He sees the photo and recognizes it as himself years ago. That is when her true identity dawns on him. Standing behind her, he asks her if the man in the photo is the one she loved and lost. Startled, she jumps up and shuts the photo album.

"Yes," she replies, getting up to put it away. Long conversation ensues.
"Was he your husband?" the man asks.
"No, he was...an old friend."
"Were you two close?"
"Very."
"And you never told him you loved him?"
"Oh, I love him still, but no, I never told him I loved him."
"Why not? He might have returned your feelings."
"He never would have loved me."
"What makes you so sure?'
"He loved someone else. Loves her still, I believe."
"Is he married to this other love? Are they together?"
"No, she...she left him."
"Ah, then his feelings might have changed."
"But he still mourns for her everyday."
"And how do you know this?"
"I...I still see him sometimes and the look in his eyes, the look of hurt and abandonment...it's still there."
"And you think there is no possiblity he could move past this woman? That he could love someone else?"
"No, sire. I don't."
"And if he had did not love this woman anymore, do you think that there could be a possibility he could love you?"
"No, sire."
"And why not?"
"Oh, please, sire. Let's not speak of this. I do not pour acid onto your pains. Please do me the same courtesy."
"Very well, but do answer me that last question and I will never speak of it again. Why do you think he could not love you?"
"Oh we were friends, yes, but...he doesn't remember me. He hardly thinks of me now. Besides, I don't think he could have loved me. I'm too...homely. Too poor."
"What if he was homely? What if he was poor? What if he was hideous beyond all imagination? Could you still love HIM?"
"Why yes, sire. Love sees beyond the surface."
"And yet you believe he could not love you."
"We are too different people. I don't think he would have taken me for a wife. Besides, I have a sixth sense about things like this and I have never been wrong."
"Never?"
"Never."

And here he steps forth and takes her shoulders.

"Well, there is a first time for everything," he says and that's when she knows that he has figured out her identity.

[Romantic scene deleted]

After I wrote this, I realized that the scenario bears a heavy resemblance to Beauty and the Beast and Jane Eyre. Both excellent stories.