This is what happens when you're bored at work with a stapler...
Just kidding!
Excited is more like it. In 4 hours, I will on a plane headed for Ft. Lauderdale. So here's tomorrow's post, today! (Lucky you!)
I'll be dreaming of you all while I sunbathe in the glorious Florida sun. Have a wonderful weekend! Ya'll behave now... that way, at least one of us will. ;)
Here's a story of one man's journey when a situation unexpectedly blocks a main artery of New York City's public transportation system.
I quietly sat on a local 7 train enjoying a breakfast sandwich about to lose myself in today's edition of Metro. The express 7 train line had recently gone under construction and knowing when they run is always guesswork. Today, there would be no express trains. Since I had woken up early in expectation of these delays, I wasn't worried; I would still make it on time to work taking the local train. Read more [+/-]
As I was finishing my sandwich, a beep came from the loudspeakers then a voice overlay with static, "Due to an emergency situation at 40th street, there is no Manhattan-bound 7 train service from Main St."
Excuse me?
Reading my thoughts, the voice repeated, "There is NO Manhattan-bound 7 train service from Main St."
I was in disbelief. I looked up from my paper and saw that other riders shared the same feelings. "You have got to be kidding me", I thought. "This is the only train to and from Main St.!"
Without an alternative, hundreds, if not thousands, of commuters flooded back into the underground tunnels. I quickly gathered my bags and followed the masses. After fruitlessly trying to find someone for information, I decided the best solution was to take a bus to another subway line; the E and F was the closest.
As I boarded the bus that would eventually add an hour and a half to my commute, I watched as Roosevelt Ave and Main St. fill with early morning commuters - confusion, disorientation, and frustration on their faces. Many were on cell phones, probably calling in late for work. Or, maybe because half of the Main St. commuters don't speak English, they were calling someone who does trying to make sense of it all.
I watched their faces as the bus pulled away and wondered how many people would be affected by this; a thousand, maybe two. Each one with their own story. I wondered how I would tell mine.
Now I wonder why wasn't there a quicker alternative.
High school freshman year was a blur. My days were routine and living in my emotional bubble, I didn't take initiative to be social. In addition to hiding my heart, I had a bigger secret to hide: I liked boys. With this revelation, I placed my need to be special on the back burner; I had to survive high school. Read more [+/-]
I used to believe that the eyes were the doors to your soul. If someone looked into my eyes long enough, they would discover all my secrets. When I spoke to someone, I would avoid looking them straight in the eye; perhaps that's why my freshman year was a blur. And perhaps that's why I remember the interior of the school so well. It wasn't very interesting, by the way.
After the friendship between G. and I ended, I didn't make any friends for a while. I avoided the Asian crowd like the plague. The smart ones were too smart and easy pickin's for ridicule. The cool ones intimidated me, not to mention "cliquey". They would only hang out with other Asians, even though the other two-thirds of the school was Black and Latino (white and 'other' made up 10%); boring carbon copies of each other. Fine, I might have been a little jealous.
To be different, I sought the company of the other two-thirds, befriending an amazing group of Latinos. This is when I learned a lot about Hispanic culture - such as you don't want to mistake a Dominican for a Puerto Rican or vice versa - including how to salsa and merenge. Having Michael, Janet, and Madonna as idols back in the day turned out to be beneficial. I was known in my 'clique' as Chino-Latino, and later 'Jase'. Plus, I got mAd ProPz (Those unfamiliar with that term, it means 'a lot of proper respect' - Thanks Greg!)
During the course of the next three years, I became a lot more social and outgoing; it was hard not to be when you're around the loudest people in the lunchroom, classroom, mall, movie theater, on the street, etc (in a good way of course). I also learned that I could still hide my sexuality while developing my social side. My friends didn't care to find out. I was practically an expert at faking straight, it was easy to let the other facets of my personality shine through. To them I was the Asian Sensation who can dance and pronounce the spanish rolling 'R', and that was good enough. All the hot mamitas adored me, guys didn't question that.
After graduation, I lost touch with most of them. Not surprisingly, none of them chose to attend the same college as I did (I was the only one out of the group that took AP Calculus and Physics). Thinking back, I wonder if I chose them as my friends because I thought it would be easy to leave them. I know I still had trouble letting people get close to me, so it was in the back of my mind that I shouldn't let our friendship get too deep; it makes it easier to move on.
I didn't let it get to me, I was moving away for college! Dorming, I would be in a new place, with new friends, and a new life. By myself. Again. But this time it would be different; I would take the self-confidence I've learned from my amazing Latino friends with me. This time, it will be easy to make new friends.
This time, I will be able to develop deep, lasting friendships... right?
The adage is true: "Be careful what you wish for, because it might come true."
And when it finally does come true, you're left wondering, "Great, what the f*ck do I do now?" or "What the hell did I get myself into?"
More on this later... (maybe.)
On a totally different note, I've finally bought a swimsuit for my trip down to Florida this weekend! Can you guess what brand it is*?
Also, I'd appreciate it if anyone has any suggestions on the fun people things to do in Ft. Lauderdale; I'll be there March 31st to April 3rd. Just keep in mind I'll be with two straight ladies, and a hot Hungarian export. Sadly, he's straight; But still single... maybe I can somehow convince him to show me his Blue Danube.
Wish me luck!
*Here's a hint: It starts with an 'S' and ends with a 'do', with 'pee' in the middle.
I found this in a bathroom stall as I went to.. uhm.. do my business.
Does anyone else see why this is so wrong?
I had let my guard down in junior high and I had been used. Having the emotional strings ripped from my heart was painful. From then on, I promised I would never fool myself into believing someone wanted to be friends with me because of who I was. I believed everyone had an ulterior motive. Read more [+/-]
This isn't hard when you have low self-esteem; and that's exactly what I had. It didn't matter that I was actually nice, smart, and sometimes witty. And since I had years of practice being anti-social and distant, it all came back naturally. I had rebuilt my emotional walls, and that is how I entered high school.
Brooklyn Tech was a specialized high school. "Specialized" means you had to take a test to get in. There are three such schools in New York City. It was also a public school. Just as it was common knowledge that the educational opportunity was better than most New York City high schools, it was also known to be 'ghetto'. Students carried knives, girls got pregnant in stairwells, and once, I witnessed a teacher being strangled by a student.
As most people will say when they go from junior high to high school, they went from being a big fish in a little pond to a small fish in a big pond. For me, it would be more accurate to say that I went from being a big fish in a fish bowl to a guppy in an ocean. My junior high class had roughly 40 students. Freshman year, I was one of a thousand entrants. And, of course, freshmen got picked on.
Having an anti-social demeanor helped me with the transition. It made me seem older. On the first day of school, someone asked me where a classroom was. Of course, I had no idea, but I played it upperclassman-cool, dismissing him with a "Get out of my face, kid." I guess my act worked because I wasn't harassed at all.
G, one of my better friends from junior high, had also made it to Brooklyn Tech. (And by 'better' I mean who didn't steal from me.) It was only natural that we would became better friends, two guppies looking out for one another.
It turned out that many of his elementary school friends, who went to different junior highs, would reunite at Brooklyn Tech. G ultimately rejoined his circle of friends and I decided not to assimilate; they were his friends, and I was 'the kid who left after first grade' once again.
In reality, I didn't want to be one of those "cliquey Asians". I wanted to be different. I wanted to be special. Basically, I was left being an outcast.
I dispise despise blogs that quote lyrics. It's so unoriginal. But I'm at work and my supervisor's giving me this evil eye as I type this... So I'm going to hand this over to Ashlee:
Got stains on my t-shirt,
And I'm the biggest flirt.
Right now I'm solo,
But that will be changing eventually.
Got bruises on my heart,
And sometimes I get dark,
If you want my auto-
Want my autobiography, baby just ask me.
Update: No time for spell checking either! Thanks babe.
Highlights of the weekend:
Jase and Good Luck Bear wish you a Happy St. Paddy's Day!
For some odd reason, I really enjoy St. Patrick's Day. Maybe it's the only acceptable day to wear green and drink green beer. Maybe it's the warm, inviting Irish culture. Or maybe it's because of my obsession for hot, beautiful Irish guys (especially firefighters). I haven't decided yet.
Grab yourself a green beer and take a gander at my all time favorite Irish hotties! Read more [+/-]
"We're leaving Jason. Say 'Goodbye' to your little friends."
When I was 7, we moved and I left my friends behind. We moved again when I was 8. And at 9. And at 10. After a while, I realized that trying to make lasting friendships was useless and so I just stopped trying. Read more [+/-]
Coincidentally, I ended up where I started and saw the kids I haven't seen in 4 years. By that time, everyone had formed their clique and best friend status had been established; I was the kid that left after first grade.
Being in elementary school without a best friend was hard for me. When my sixth grade teacher asked us to describe our best friend's hobbies, it struck me that I didn't know who to write about. I randomly chose a friend, C., knowing full well he wasn't writing about me. I was sure no one wrote about me. I don't think I've ever felt more alone.
I blindly chose to attend the same Junior High as C. because I didn't want to lose his friendship, as did his best friend. In Junior High, I was able to accept not being C.'s best friend because I had made lasting friendships; I had known 5 friends for three consecutive years! That was a record. I even decided to invite R. and G. over to my place.
I lived in a small studio apartment in Chinatown with two, sometimes three, other family members. Hanging out at my apartment meant taking turns sitting in a corner nook to play video games. Needless to say, I didn't host many sleepovers. G. lived in a bigger apartment, so after the first visit, he declined any future invitations. However, R. was always willing, even asking on several occasions. "Finally, I'll have a best friend," I hoped.
"Did you take the money?" my mom asked. I had no idea what she was talking about, so she accused R. of stealing it. Being so close to best friend status, I adamantly defended him. It wasn't until my grandmother interjected that she witnessed him stealing from the apartment did I realize it might have been him. She had kept it to herself at first because she thought my happiness was more important than a silly pencil sharpener.
I didn't believe her. R. wanted to be my best friend; he took the pencil sharpener because he thought I said he could. So I asked, "Did you take my pencil sharpener?" With a straight face, he lied, "No." I felt sick, betrayed. R. wanted to be my friend because I was oblivious to his thieving; that's why he'd ask if he could come over.
What's worse is that I didn't have the courage to tell our mutual friends. It would force them to pick sides and I was scared they would pick him; they had known him longer and they didn't invite him to their house anyway, so why would they care? After all, I was the kid that left after first grade and R. was better at basketball.
Eventually, we got most of the money back from R. We never spoke to each other after that and it took a toll on my other friendships; I started developing friendship/trust issues. It didn't matter though; I wasn't allowed to invite anyone else over anyway.
The front page of today's Metro made my morning.
It has everything: a hilarious photo (from this game) that made me laugh, good news about gay marriage in California [via wired.com] that made tears well up in my eyes, Hello Kitty pendant all blinged out that made me think of Wayne, and a realization I have a really dirty mind when all I could see as the top headline is "Giant gang bang."
Then I get to work to find an inbox and comments full of validating responses. Thank you so very much. Now I have to find out how to get rid of this lump in my throat...
It's Monday. I had a good weekend. I've finally curbed my cold medicine addiction (thanks FARB!), but not before going through a period of emotional instability. However, I have a lot of projects on my plate at work, so you'll have to wait to hear about that.
So what's this post about? To verify the comment system works! Actually, Lee was able to make one, but I could use a bit of validation myself. Won't you leave a nice comment for me?
It turns out I owe Hot Toddy an apology. Since I know his standards are high (at least I think they are), and I couldn't begin to write an apology that will meet his standards under normal circumstances, let alone me currently not being in the right state of mind, I enlisted some help. Read more [+/-]
My email request:
All,
Okay... I'm hopped up on cold medicine and my brain's all fuzzy, and it seems I owe an apology or something to Hot Toddy.. and since you're all a lot smarter, wittier, funnier, (okay, and prettier) than I am, I'm reaching out to you for help.. HELP!
I don't want to feel the wrath of Hot Toddy!! (do i?)
Fidgeting in his seat now,
Jase
Rcktman replied:
Well first of all... What did you do? Because if it's really, really, REALLY evil, it might be unforgivable :)I'm apologizing because I came out after his visit to NY. That's not really, really, REALLY evil, is it? Maybe some missed booty call.. it's not that bad, right?
FARB had this insight:
No, I'm sure it's too late to even apologize, Jase. Toddy is clearly angry to the point where he can't even deal with it rationally.Maybe you're right. Maybe I should only take cough medicine when I have a cough.
Maybe after he cools down he'll manage to forgive, if not forget. But I think you should take this as an important life lesson: never do things on your own time-table. Make sure every action conforms with the schedules of others.
That, or reduce your dosage of cough medicine.
But then Watersea Wayne thought up a brilliant plan:
Post the picture of US nude!!! ASAP!!! (just remember to black-bar my eyes, in case my mom started to surf the net)Oh! I forgot I had that picture! I'm sure this will make him forgive me!
And in case that doesn't work, Kentucky boy came up with a fail-safe plan:
Why don't you try saying, "I'm sorry."Always the voice of reason. What the heck.
I'm sorry Hot Toddy. You hold a special place in my heart. You helped me build strength and courage to come out. I cherish what we have and the time we shared [pic]. I hope you'll find a special place in your heart for me, and maybe one day, you will be able to forgive me.
Update: I've been told people couldn't leave comments. Blogger knows about it. Hopefully, they'll fix it soon, but in the meantime, you can email me.
At the start of a 40 minute train ride, you find an open seat in an increasingly crowded train, only to realize that the slight, but pungent, body odor is emitting from the man sitting next to you.
Do you (a) stand up, and endure the 40 minutes on your feet, (b) sit on the edge of your seat and lean away from the source as far as possible, (c) tell man he stinks, to take a bath, then stand up and leave the train, or (d) turn to him and tell him that you wished the offensive odor ban in California would apply to NYC subways. Read more [+/-]
If I were smart, I would have chosen (a). If I weren't already running late, (c) is what I would have done. And if I were feeling a little passive-aggressive bitchy, definitely (d).
But I'm sick, so I toughened it out with (b).
Isn't it funny how you can get used to a smell so that, after a while, you don't smell it anymore? Like when you put on too much cologne, you're all fine and dandy, but when people pass by, they grimace as if they're about to be pimp slapped? Same goes for body odor (BO). But with BO, no matter how much you get used to it, when you get a whiff of fresh air, it resets your sense of smell, and the offending smell is as strong and offending as ever.
Doors open, fresh air. Doors close, BO. I even covered my face with my scarf and adopted a shallow breathing technique through my mouth. The only effect that had was it made my mouth dry, my scarf damp, and me feel even more light-headed; and ultimately I'd have to inhale deep through my nose to keep from passing out.
After 50 minutes (damn delays), I pushed my way off the train, bent over and inhaled the deepest breath I could muster. It was such a relief to be rid of the horrid attack of BO in exchange for subway air with its stale, mildewy, urine goodness.
Yesterday, the snow was a bad sign,
Today, there was much more sunshine,
So I posted 'bout whores,
Then went 'round a few stores,
And finally Nutter Butter was all mine!
Update: Okay, fine, it was horrible limerick.. but I really wasn't drunk when I wrote this!
I think there is a time in every bloggers' career when they realize that they've been focusing on who's reading their blog and increasing traffic instead of why they started the blog in the first place. Today is my day. Read more [+/-]
"My name is Jase. I am a hits whore." Everyone together now, "Hi Jase!"
In an effort to help those out there who have fallen prey to the hits whore beast, I'm going to list a few tell-tale signs. Feel free to share your own signs too.
You might be a hits whore if:
If any of these are all too familiar, you still have hope yet! Try the following:
Me? I want to be a better writer. I want to be creative. I want to be able to look at life, find the humor in any situation, and put it into words. I want to find the courage to share my story. I want to find others who can relate and share in their experiences.
What about you?
I can't believe that just 24 hours ago it was 57 degrees fahrenheit. What happened?!
I have a sudden craving for Nutter Butter.
It's funny that people didn't believe me when I told them I went through a physical transformation last month. They wanted proof, but I had promised I'd prove it in person to some people before sharing it here.
So now that that's done, it's time for some show and tell: See it and read the Q & A [+/-]
What's the meaning?
The meaning is simple, it's a Gemini, I'm a Gemini. I'm not a big follower of astrology, but I believe I have some of the traits of a Gemini. And like I said to the half-drunk palm reader at some birthday party, "I'm not two-faced, I'm twice the fun."
Secondly, my first real moniker on AOL was 'Iil GeMiNi' and I still use it today (see email and url of this blog). So there's some significance there.
Why did you get it there?
Because it's sexy, and it's another reason for me to take off my pants.
Did it hurt?
Actually, it tickled. Like kittens licking you. But I wouldn't advise everyone out there to just get one. I know people who are allergic to cats.
I heard you designed it yourself.
That's correct. I drew a sketch of what I wanted and had the tattoo artist clean it up. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Another fact that people might not know is that it was a present from my sister. She also got a tattoo around the same time, so it's one of those sibling bonding things.. it's funny how people are surprised we get along. We have fights (with pillows, chairs, scissors, knives, box cutters); but hey, that only makes it that much more interesting, right?
Thank you to those who express concern for me because of my last post(s).
I have 'emotional knee jerk reactions' to situations. I also wear my heart on my sleeve. But as you can tell, I can be secretive and vague. I'm this way because I don't like to impose on other people. So I guess that's really what my last post was about. Read more [+/-]
Something happened last night that made me sad. It was insignificant, but poignant because it reminded me of every situation in the past that made me feel the same way. I probably read too much into it and made too many assumptions, because I'm sometimes irrational like that.
The fact of the matter is that I had a wonderful weekend. For me to rant and rave about something insignificant when compared to all that's happened makes me selfish, greedy, and inconsiderate. It's also unfair to everyone who made my weekend fun.
I was invited out with D., C., and L. on Saturday. What's better than talking about boys with three girls over a brewsky? Maybe having a boy... but talking about them comes a close second! I was even able to convince D. and L. to accompany me to a gay bar. It must have been painful for them to be in a room with all those cuties with them having no chance at all. Come to think of it, it was for me!
I woke up still a little buzzed on Sunday, but excited to take Michael, the Kentucky boy, his Anthony, and his Dan to Dim Sum in Chinatown. After a fully satisfying meal, we had some almond cookie ice cream and I took them on a little tour of Chinatown before heading up to see what remained of The Gates in Central Park. Late afternoon was spent watching that Tad Hamilton movie and having Anthony's heavenly home-made pineapple-upside-down cake with vanilla ice cream. The night ended with a wonderful dinner with my family and an hour at the gym.
So you see, there's really nothing to worry about. I'm just emotional sometimes. And at other times, I can't see the forest for the trees; but I'm learning to focus on the important stuff.
I've tried to write this post about 8 times now.
I want to tell you I'm sad, but that's only the beginning. I want to explain why I feel this way, but it's coming out all wrong. Anything I write turns out to be incoherent and makes me sound selfish, greedy, and inconsiderate.
Maybe it's better if I don't write anything at all.
What happens when you love someone so much that you would give anything in the world, including sacrificing yourself, so that they won't feel any hurt at all... but there was nothing you can do or anything you can say will change a thing at all. The hopelessness, the helplessness...
...you just have to be there for them.
I'm there for you. Know that.
In my never ending attempt at self-promotion, I bring you this recent development: I'm featured on No Milk's "Other Voices"! (Quote from this post.)
At first, I thought it was just one of those 'promote your blog' sections or his way of dealing with MPD. In actuality, he decides what gets featured! Read about the project.
I'm flattered! You have no idea how much this inflates my ego means to me. Thank you! Now be good little readers and visit No Milk Please and the other voices he features. You won't be disappointed.
Speaking of Quotes
While we're here, let me share with you some of my own personal "Life. By Jase." favorites (aside from those under Favorite Posts). Vanity, thy name is Jase. Read more [+/-]
"Wow. These kids are smart! I know I was NEVER that smart when I was in fourth grade. All I focused on were head-lice inspections and making up excuses why I needed another week for my report on Dolphins. That reminds me, I still owe that report." - this post.
"That came from a conversation where I suggested I'd dress up like post-adolescent Harry Potter carrying magical sex toys for Halloween." - this post.
"I've noticed in my (short) lifetime that it's hard for people to say 'Thank you'. They feel proud and self-reliant, as if it is an admission to weakness or helplessness. It's not. You should always say Thank you. Why? Because it's free." - this post.
"Inevitably, they'd hear something, turn in my direction, see me waving, assume I was talking to them, and wave hesitantly with the reply, "Oh... Hi." Now everyone probably thinks I'm the nicest temp around the office." - this post.
"Throughout highschool (and college), I've always wanted to work for A&F. What could be better than getting paid to look pretty while folding a washed-out, overpriced t-shirt? I knew I belonged there: the elusive group of hot, muscular guys indifferent to customers and lack any sense of customer service." - this post.
"I printed this [picture] out on my photographic-style printer, and it came out all glossy and nice, like a postcard. If I became mute in his presence again, at least I could still throw this at him before running away." - this post.
"I don't make New Years resolutions. My theory is if bad situations don't run on the holiday schedule, neither does your ability to improve your life. Januaray 1st is arbitrary; and if you think about it, it's like a slap in the face for the Lunar Calendar." - this post.
Second grade.
I was the only child brave enough to 'learn' to cartwheel, and therefore I was cast as the lead, Peter Rabbit, for the Annual Chinese New Year School Play (yes, it was the year of the rabbit). A dance routine, no speaking, but I would have the whole stage to myself! I was excited! I was nervous! And I only had 2 weeks. I practiced everyday at the back of the classroom; my second grade teacher, Ms. Chin, as my Bela Karolyi. Read more [+/-]
The routine was simple enough, with the cartwheel right in the middle.
The day of the performance arrived and I was introduced to my pink bunny outfit complete with button nose and cotton tail, whiskers glued above my lips as the final touch. With pink furry gloves over my hands I was worried that it would affect my cartwheel. Ms. Chin, observing my demeanor, gave me a pep talk and ushered me stage right, behind the curtains.
The lights dimmed. I gulped. Spotlight turned on with a *shunt*. I froze. The music started. A shiver went up my spine. My cue was coming. If my mind weren't totally blank, I might have realized that I was shaking.
"NOW!" I screamed in my head on cue and threw my body out from behind the curtain and started my hopping routine. The spotlight was blinding and I couldn't see the audience, only hearing their cheers and applause overpowering the music. It was euphoric.
I was approaching the trickiest part of my routine, the cartwheel. In practice my success rate was a only 40%, without gloves. I'm going to stick it. Hop, bounce, left, right, cartwheel!
I'm half way! Stick the landing! Wait.. wait.. no!
The adrenaline coursing through my veins had made me rush, undershooting the landing. As a natural reaction, I bent my legs, and with a *thump*, landed on my ass. Luckily, Ms. Chin had prepped me to continue the routine even if I fell; so with laughter in the background, I finished my routine, hopping off stage left, shaking my cotton tail.
I felt bad for falling (and losing my whiskers), but elated that I had the courage to perform in front of the whole school; as the star!
It must have been a memorable performance, because the during the beginning of my freshman year in high school, I ran into an elementary school classmate. She stared at me for a second across the hall before running up to me.
"Hey! I know you! You're Peter Rabbit!"
Blushing at my newfound fame, I replied, "Second grade? Yea."
"Yea! You were so cute as a pink bunny with whiskers stuck to your butt!"
WHAT?!
Since I didn't get hit with that musical meme virus that's been going around, I'm going to do one of these other ones, following in the footsteps of fash mag slag, watersea, and groovetheory.
Musical Meme (4 Q's) Read more [+/-]
1) WHAT ARE YOUR RANDOM 10 SONGS?
"Tennessee" by Arrested Development
"Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden
"Rock DJ" by Robbie Williams
"El Ultimo Adios" by Paulina Rubio
"We Need a Resolution" by Aaliyah
"Queen Bitch" by Lil Kim
"If I Ain't Got You" by Alicia Keys
"Naughty Girl" by Beyonce
"Sunday Morning" by Maroon 5
"Superman" by Eminem
2) WHAT IS THE TOTAL AMOUNT OF MUSIC ON YOUR COMPUTER?
Roughly 600 mp3's and 12 music videos.
3) THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT?
Encore by Eminem
4) WRITE DOWN 5 SONGS YOU LISTEN TO A LOT OR MEAN A LOT TO YOU:
"Always Be My Baby" by Mariah Carey
"Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera
"Pass That Dutch" by Missy Elliot - this always gets me into party mode.
"Take a Bow" by Madonna
"Breakaway" by Kelly Clarkson
Random Meme (34 Q's) Read more [+/-]
1) WHAT IS THE GEEKIEST PART OF YOUR BOOK COLLECTION?
My computer programming books - One titled "Learn xxx in 21 days". Naturally, I stopped after the 2nd day.
2) WHAT DID YOU DO ON VALENTINE'S DAY?
Went to work. Blogged. Went to night class.
3) WHAT DID YOU GET ON VALENTINE'S DAY?
I got an e-card.
4) WHAT IS YOUR SECRET GUARANTEED WEEPING MOVIE?
Probably Titanic. Why'd she throw it into the ocean?!
5) IF YOU COULD HAVE PLASTIC SURGERY, WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?
Nothing that hard work and dedication can't achieve. I'm going to echo jon's answer.
6) DO YOU HAVE A COMPLETELY IRRATIONAL FEAR?
I'm a very logical person, so being irrational is rare for me. How about fear of rejection? And spiders.
7) WHAT IS THE LITTLE PHYSICAL HABIT THAT GIVES AWAY YOUR INSECURE MOMENTS?
Taking a sip of whatever I'm holding and avoiding eye contact.
8) DO YOU KNOW ANYONE FAMOUS?
I know a fabulous famous author!
9) WHAT DO YOU CARRY WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES?
Aside from the necessities (wallet, cellphone), lip balm.
10) WHAT DO YOU MISS ABOUT BEING A KID?
What I don't miss is being picked on. I miss coloring when lines were just suggestions and how purple clouds just made sense.
11) WHAT WAS THE LAST SONG YOU WERE LISTENING TO?
"I'm a slave 4 u" by Britney Spears
12) HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A PLAY?
2nd grade I was Peter Rabbit. And then as dancer for a few high school productions.
13) HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE?
Does being in lust count? I've felt like I've been in love, so yes.
14) DO YOU LIKE YOURSELF AND BELIEVE IN YOURSELF?
I like the person I've become, and I like the road I'm taking to be the person I want to be.
15) DO TRANSIENT, HOMELESS, OR STARVING PEOPLE SOMETIMES ANNOY YOU?
Yes, depends on my mood and their attire.
16) WHICH MUSICAL INSTRUMENT DO YOU WISH YOU COULD PLAY?
The piano, guitar, and violin - in that order.
17) FAVORITE FABRIC?
Cashmere or cotton - I love jersey sheets.
18) WHAT'S ONE LANGUAGE YOU WANT TO LEARN?
I have a lot of linguistic interest. French, then read/write Chinese.
19) WHAT DO YOU ORDER AT A BAR?
Sapphire Tonic
20) HAVE YOU EVER PIERCED YOUR BODY PARTS?
Yes - it's somewhat hidden.
21) DO YOU HAVE TATTOOS?
Yes - it's somewhat hidden, too.
22) DO YOU DRIVE A STICK?
I don't know how to drive stick. Plus, it's hard to find a Benz with a stick in America. (That totally sounded snobbish; but hey, if you got it, flaunt it.)
23) FAVORITE TRAIT OF THE OPPOSITE SEX
Personality - it's easier to flirt with people you have no sexual interest in. I love strong, opinionated women with fun, flirty attitudes.
24) MOST FRIVOLOUS PURCHASE?
Most of the computer books I 'plan to read'.
25) WHAT ARE YOU BEST AT COOKING?
Instant Ramen.
26) WOULD YOU EVER GO OUT DRESSED LIKE THE OPPOSITE SEX?
For an event, yes (i.e. Halloween, drag party).
27) WHAT'S ONE CAR YOU WILL NEVER BUY?
A hearse. Impractical sports cars that fit 2 people and nothing else.
28) WHAT KIND OF BOOKS DO YOU LIKE TO READ?
Gay essays and autobiographies. Satires, dark comedies, and most everything on bestseller lists.
29) IF YOU WON THE LOTTERY, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
Take care of my family. Spoil my friends. Travel around the world. Pursue creative careers while opening a restaurant/cafe/lounge/bar.
30) DO YOU CRY IN FRONT OF YOUR FRIENDS?
No. I'm a closet crier.
31) WHAT'S ONE THING YOU LIKE TO DO ALONE?
Have conversations. Seriously, what's this question about?
32) ARE YOU A GIVER OR A TAKER?
A giver. I have a hard time receiving favors or acts of kindness without being compelled to return the favor.
33) WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Probably last week.
34) HOW MANY DRINKS BEFORE YOU'RE TIPSY/SLEEPY?
Three.
