Resolutions
1) I will jog for at least 30 minutes 2x per week.
2) When eating out, I will only consume 1/2 of my meal and take the other half home. Unless of course, the portions are smallish or I'm really really hungry.
3) I will email/IM/facebook message at least one person per day. I'm terrible at keeping in touch and I feel like this will help me reconnect with people that I've let slip through the cracks. If you're one of these people, I'm sorry. It's totally not personal, I'm just really bad at communication of any kind!
Christmas Music
I dislike Christmas music. I don't like the cheesy lyrics. The promise of white winters. The sound of chestnuts roasting on an open fire. The merry tinkling of sleigh bells. Who here has even seen a real-life sleigh, anyway? Certainly not me. I believe that the only OK time for Christmas music is possibly Christmas Day. Not in November. Or during the entire month of December. Not on the radio. Not at the mall. Not at work. And DEFINITELY not the post office, the bank, Jamba Juice, etc.
Am I a Christmas Scrooge? Absolutely not. I love the holiday season. I love my family and enjoy getting a chance to see everyone. I love that it's pretty much the only time of the year where overeating is not only acceptable, but encouraged. I actually like shopping for Christmas presents, decorating a tree, going to see the lights, even making a faux gingerbread house out of graham crackers and Betty Crocker frosting. The whole nine yards. But I can't stand the music.
Maybe it was all those years of being forced to sing in elementary school holiday pagents. Or maybe it's that as much as I love shopping, I hate how crowded malls get during those post-Thanksgiving weeks and due to what's playing over the PA system, hearing even a hint of "Jingle Bell Rock" reminds me of fighting over reduced-priced goods with the crazed sale-hungry masses. Or maybe it was the two Christmases I spent in Japan, where I was forced to sing all four verses (yes, there are FOUR) of "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" in class over and over and over again.
So please, for the sake of my sanity, turn off your radios, refrain from humming these infectious tunes, and keep your CDs of Kenny G plays our holiday favorites away from me until December 24th/25th. I would greatly appreciate it.
Oysters and Pumpkins
Two stories in one entry. You guys are so lucky.
A couple of weekends ago, Jeff invited me to go oyster shucking with him and his friends. I've never been, so I agreed to go, if for nothing else than to try something new. I had my reservations. I've only ever had oysters a few times (cooked) and to be frank, I think they're kinda nasty. And the thought of slurping down a slimy still-living mollusk wasn't really appealing either. I mean c'mon, does this look appetizing?
Ewwwwwww. But you know what? It wasn't that bad. I poured lots of Tabasco sauce on mine, topped it with some pico de gallo, squeezed a little lime juice on it, and sluuuuuuurped it down. Pretty tasty. Jeff enjoyed his oysters, too.
On another note, Happy Halloween folks! Over the weekend, my friend Amy threw a pumkin carving party. Nice pumkins, Amy!
I haven't carved a pumkin since I was like 8, before the invention of all of those fancy carving kits with mini saws and super-sharp knives. I had to do it ghetto-style with a dull steak knife for carving and an old metal spoon for scraping out the pumpkin innards. However, Amy was well-prepared with state-of-the-art tools and artsy stencils, which makes for some really fancy jack-o-lanterns:
And the piece de resistance: my Spongebob Squarepants!
He was a bitch to carve, but well worth the wait.
There are photos of me in costume floating around somewhere. Once I get a hold of them, I'll post them here, too.
So LA
For the momentous occasion that was to be my much-anticipated return to the glamorous and sordid world of blogging, I waited and waited for the appropriate event so that I could use those juicy and exciting story tidbits to weave a tale of intrigue, wit, and humor. Instead, I've decided to write about something stupid and petty. But hey, what are blogs for, anyway, if not to bitch and whine in the most emo-poetic fashion? Woe is me...
Three times in the last couple of months, I have been accused of being "so LA."
LA?! What does that mean, anyway? What qualities--or flaws--makes someone "so LA"? Let's revisit my first "So LA" experience:
Pompous Wino: If I asked for your number, you wouldn't give it to me, would you?
Me: Why do you say that?
PW: Cuz LA girls like you aren't into guys like me.
Me: What kind of guys are we supposed to be into?
PW: You know, movie star types.
Me: Are you saying I'm shallow?
PW: Are you saying you're not?
So I'm shallow. Check. My second "So LA" experience, I have to admit was second-hand information, passed on to me by an equally bemused and mystified friend:
Person#1: Grace is so LA.
Person#2: How so?
P1: She's so insensitive to other peoples' feelings. She totally disregards their emotions.
P2: Are you sure this isn't just all a misunderstanding?
P1: No. She said those things to purposely hurt me. Only people from LA would be so mean and self-centered.
I'm also insensitive, hurtful, and self-centered. Check. Check. Check.
The third "so LA" experience wasn't nearly as fun as the previous two, but nonetheless, three strikes and you're out:
Slightly Inebriated Friend: Look at that group drinking over there in the corner. They're so LA.
Me: Yeah, they're pretty crazy.
SIF: You should know. They're your type of people.
Me: MY type of people??
SIF: You know. You're LA.
Me: What makes me "LA"?
SIF: Uhhhh, you know... You're definitely not from around here. You know the type... You're totally an LA girl... I hope I didn't offend you...
Well, we never got to a concrete "so LA" profile on the last one. But props to "SIF" for not completely offending me. Just makes me wonder what he/she had in mind, but didn't say when I put them on the spot. Hehe.
So what conclusions did I come to? I hope the majority of you don't think I'm shallow, insensitive, and bitchy. But I guess if you do, there's nothing I can do about it. Although I'd be inclined to tell you that you're totally WRONG. Which means I'm completely disregarding you're opinions. Which makes me pretty self-centered. How very LA of me.
Biofuel
Wanna know what I've been up to for the last few months? Curious about what my company is trying to accomplish? The San Jose Mercury wrote an article about us for the Sunday, June 10th paper and also put this fun
video online. I'm famous!
Playlist Tag
Tagged by Danny. The instructions are as follows: List seven songs you are into right now — no matter what they are. They need to be songs you presently enjoy. Then, tag seven other people to see what they're listening to. Here's my seven...- Halo Friendlies: Disappear
- Yellowcard: Lights and Sounds
- AC/DC: You Shook Me All Night Long
- Feeder: Lost and Found
- Limp: Far Away
- Veruca Salt: So Weird
- Scissor Sisters: Comfortably Numb
- Lily Allen: LDN
I tag: Eva, Joe, Shan, Evy, Chrissy, Anju, Jeff
We Are Now Accepting Applications
Eva and I have decided that Bay to Breakers will probably be much more fun if done in costume. Not just matching outfits. Full on costumes (a la Wolverine or the Flash in the previous post). And we also decided that it would be exponentially more fun if we found others to share in the dress-up game.
Therefore, we are recruiting 3 more women to come and join us so that we can participate in Bay to Breakers 2008 as the Village People. Since it is a 12K run and since we don't want to be overburdened with cumbersome clothing, expect costumes to be comprised of short shorts and tank tops (I know, I know... I'm gonna have to do a LOT of squats and sit-ups to sculpt my butt and mini-muffin top into buns and abs of steel!)
As for available positions, Eva has dibs on the policewoman and I'd like to go as the biker (no, I will no reprise my J-town role as the cowgirl), so there are still openings for a cowgirl, a construction worker, and a Native American. If we get a 6th enthusiastic member, we could probably swing a sailor-type thing because no one ever remembers that a sailor is not actually an original Village Person.
Fingers
Look at your hands. Take note of which finger is longer, your ring finger or your index finger. Also, think back to your SAT scores. Which was better, your math score or your verbal score? Now read
this article and let me know if you fit the mold. I do. My ring fingers are considerably longer than my index fingers and my math score was 100 points higher than my verbal. I guess there was a lot of testosterone floating around during those crucial 9 months.
Bay to Breakers
I had a blonde moment yesterday.
Today was the 96th annual San Francisco Bay to Breakers 12K. Unlike most races, this one is particularly notorious for being a fun free-for-all. More like a crazy parade rather than a 7-mile run through the city. Eva came down yesterday to spend the night since the starting line is conveniently situated on Embarcadero, next to the Bay, and relatively close to where I live. We were looking at the map of the race course last night and I noticed that the race finished right at the coast. I was like "Look, it ends right at the beach. That's so cool!" Eva gives me this weird look and was like, "You just noticed that now? Why do you think they call it 'BAY to BREAKERS'?!" For some reason it had never occured to me until that point that the reason why they call it Bay to Breakers was because they started on the bay side of the city and ran straight across to the Pacific Ocean side.
Anyway, on to the photos.
Eva and me. (this one's for you, Anju) We're MATCHING!
For some reason, there were lots of people throwing tortillas. It was a good thing I was wearing a hat. I got smacked in the head a bunch of times.
They're like ants! Let the race begin!
Spongebob (in jail??) and Eva.
Superheroes galore. The Flash and Wolverine decide to participate in the festivities. Surprisingly enough, The Flash did not win the race.
The Legion of the Kings of Rock n Roll.
And of course, no gathering of crazy alternative people in San Francisco would be complete without the presence of right wing conservative Bible thumpers. Thank you so much for educating me about my disgustingly sinful lifestyle. I hang my head in shame.
But moving on... Eva and I finished in an hour and 44 minutes... not bad considering we ended up walking most of the first 2 - 3 miles (it was supercrowded). Oh, and we tried counting all of the nekkid people, but lost count at like 30-something. Ah, only in San Francisco!
Liposuction
Don't worry, I'm not thinking of getting any. It's just that I have a liposuction-related addendum to my last post. If you are of the faint-hearted variety, or are easily grossed out, you probably shouldn't read any further.
Apparently, a company in Norway has struck a deal with a Miami hospital so that in can receive 3000 gallons of liposuction fat. And you'll never guess what they're trying to do with said fat. That's right, they're gonna try and convert it to biodiesel. Mmmm, tasty.
According to
the article, 3000 gallons of human fat can be converted to 2,600 gallons of biodiesel. With the average diesel engine running at 27 mpg of biodiesel, and 3,000 gallons of liposuction fat = 2,600 gallons of biodiesel = 70,200 miles driven, that creates a grand total of 23.4 miles per gallon of liposuction fat. Again, the VP of my company wanted to take it one step further and calculate miles per pound of fat. So here goes:
"Body fat has a density of 0.918 grams per cubic centimeter. There are 453.59 grams in a pound and there are 3,785.41 cubic centimeters in a gallon. Thus, a gallon of liposuction fat would weigh 7.66 pounds. And 23.4 miles per gallon would translate into 3.05 miles per pound."
So there we have it. One chicken's fat provides enough fuel to propel a diesel engine car 1 mile, but a pound of human fat will get it 3 miles. And with Americans becoming more and more obese, I'd say we have a renewable energy source on our hands!
