funny thing happened on the way to H e L L

i'm one of those fraudy asian-americans that use my asianness only when it suits me/ when the identity helps me get away with stuff, or hide behind The Culture. sometimes it's b.s. (like, for instance look at me trying to write my name in chinese characters--holy mess.) ok, i just figured out that instead of trying to pull off "NO ENGRISH" w/ a straight face when approached by panhandlers and harrassing possible scam-artists (usu. at symphony parking lot and powell hall environs)--which never works cuz i'm never ready for the proper delivery (derivery)-- i have decided to just go with my normal, perfect native english and say "NO ENGLISH" just regular, w/o the silly r/l switch (with is sooo offensive har), because it's nobody's business and i look the part and that should be sufficient.

Pandiculation Nation

this morning i came up with genius coping strategy*, a sort of subtopic of the old "fake it 'til it becomes real" and the idea that physical action can provoke corresponding mental attitude. i'll illustrate with some quickie inspirational examples:

aggravating idiot at work? yawn. don't waste my time, moron.

is Stupid standing in your light? yawn. (push)

cute boy not calling you when he said he would? yawn. didn't think u were that cute.

big project intimidating/overwhelming you? yawn. that'll be a snap. take 5 minutes.

confidence-girls. con-girls. whatever works. confidence needs to be upped.

here's a good historical application:

pre-election: barack obama for prez? yawn. yes we can.

*to start the yawn program, ironically you may need to drink several cups of coffee or perhaps take the trendy adderall (which i've never tried, no fair)-- to bolster yourself for all this unprecedented confidence. yawn. that should be easy.

oh my

i just made a kinda-real, kinda-not pact with my friend not to live past 40. h.l. and i are soulmates; here's more proof:

from jan.2009 atpictures.com post:

English actor Hugh Laurie has already survived nearly a decade longer than he expected as a teen--after making a pact with his friends to take their lives before turning 40. The "House" star admits he found the age unappealing, and vowed to take his last breath before growing too old.

(of course he goes on to talk about the "arrogance of youth" and apologizes for his stupidity. i'm not a teenager so for me it's just sad and immature, boo.)

hero

i just read this old article in the u.k.daily mail about hugh laurie's hair (or, absence of) during the writers' strike last year.. like that matters. anyways, his answer to the question, what was he doing during the strike?, once again confirmed my love/obsession: "I've been at home playing piano in my underpants." (have u heard dr. house play? his bach is pure, humble, beautiful.. can he be more amazing?) i hear he has struggled with major depression. i wonder, does he medicate? therapy?

i am vulterine

dear hugh laurie, is it wrong to celebrate the end of anothers' relationship? is it bad to "wait out" (seinfeld) relationships? or can i suddenly claim belief in fate?

i never dared to hope, but now i'm a cat (ferocious, see pic) ready to pounce. my scheming brain is suddenly alive with activity. s'terrible. no, it's pro-active, and that's the word of our generation. i'm like kal penn, quitting HOUSE to work in the obama adminstration, except for me it's like quitting being a typist to go eat pizza in brooklyn. for a good cause. what?
no, it's not schadenfreude; it's survival. now's my chance to move from one cliche to another. as my dear neighbor just texted me minutes previous, "Only the strong survive." back burner to front burner, pronto!

i like people

if some fellow human can come up with this and if another dear fellow human can alert me of its existence, perhaps i should stick around awhile. i recently went to a hunting lodge (in an undisclose-able location) and saw REAL taxidermy everywhere. like even little baby deer and mid-munch cute beavers, displayed amongst all the requisite moose, elk, whatever, and also a zebra, many birds...it was gross. what a decor. death-decor. anyway, feltidermy rules. thanks again, kristin--you are an ace at finding what i will likely go nuts over (basically whatever you go nuts over. btw, you should have your own shopping blog.)

Barky Bark

everytime i watch charlie take a dump on my front lawn ("good boy!") i'm reminded of Demetri Martin and his observation about new yorkers who have dogs: "My need for companionship is so huge that it outweighs my distaste for picking up sh*t."

spock is my kryptonite

the anthony lane review of star trek in the 5/18 new yorker is the best thing ever. is he always this hilarious? and DUH, mr. lane, spock/zachary quinto definitely is "the most commanding reason to see the film" and "the only one to "prepare the grey matter'--ZING! i am also especially gratified (finally!) that someone agrees with me that kirk is a 'tard. in the newyorker intellectual-speak, lane describes him as all-natural "dickhead." oh. how. good. is. that. suddenly, life improves. with one great movie review.

john mayer, lisa-slayer?

GRAVITY:

"...dream of waaaays....to throw it allll awaayyy.."

when i hear that part i have to have just fall on the floor, or hopefully something soft..i can't help it. if i could cry i would. it RIPS APART MY INSIDES. john mayer? i thought he was a douchebag. well, this is my kryptonite. john mayer song is my kryptonite. i am WEAK! (no, i am not; listen to this song--seriously, this guy has special powers.) hey gravity! stay the hellll a-way- from- me!

correction

remember back when i said reality disappoints (an hour ago)? i spoke hastily and carelessly--s'not (haha) true. cuz when i met pete hornberger in real life (scott adsit?) it was like the sun was shining extra bright and his face was highlighted in that saintly way, but FOR REAL... when he called me "bles-sed," a fire was ignited inside my soul.. FOR REAL.. how do i become his personal assistant? does anyone know him? wait, does anyone read this?

(also, kristin chenoweth was better--unbelievably; i mean, how could it be?--even better in real life).

now i can't stop

CONFESSION: i saw star trek twice in the last week. i have never seen any other star trek anything. it's all becuz of spock.
[when i googled zachary quinto i was disappointed. i prefer him as spock. reality, as usual, disappoints.]

couple of the year--kirk and spock. so volatile. yet so complementary. such a beautiful example of male-male love, so special and rare that it lasts/exists beyond constraints of time and space...

oh come on

this is really unnecessary. and kind of diminishes him as the cute, sensitive, shy type that i (and i imagine others) imagine him to be. hugh laurie would never pander like this.

i'm off to "opera" and stopping at borders for things to look at, to distract me from the nagging ache that is second-violin-playing.

wha' happened?

my blogging self has disappeared. wha happened to her? i'll just spout random things til she comes back... hmm. wow, and it's been since the 12th? why? oh it's cuz opera started--YES, i can blame opera! that's what everyone does---the fraudiness of stuff started bogging me down. i must remember, mental note-to-self: morons shouldn't prevent me from just doing my easy-peasy job and collecting my easy-peasy paycheck. plus, i like salome and i LOVE marie antoinette, so what am i complaining about? (i used to actually love playing opera, don't tell-- i liked being hidden in the tiny pit, being unseen, playing too loud, wearing black "yoga" pants--> the noticing of the glaring frauds was always in the background, but didn't enter the foreground and start harrassing me til much later, like a few years ago..)
nevermind, this is turning dull... oh i also read daphne merkin's article in last sunday's nytimes magazine that sort of gave me permission to stop faking it by writing stuff that seemed happy. if it takes a pot of coffee and an hour of self-motivational self-talk and self-loathing just to beat the depressing thoughts away, write normal happyish things, do normal errand-y things, etc., no wonder i'm dead tired by like 5pm. so, i decided to give up on everything and see what happens. [ok, full disclosure: i also ran out of STUMPTOWN and didn't want to drink sub-standard (now everything is substandard) coffee.. people from portland or red hook, help a fellow addict! 7330a Lindell, 63130! ]

here's a great quote (and accurate too) about coffee from 30ROCK:

"It's like my heart is trying to hug my brain!!" (kenneth the page)

here's another great quote from golf digest:

"Lick from the lollipop of mediocrity once, and you suck forever" (rory somebody, can't remember his name, not enough coffee--which stimulates your brain ya know)

HOLY--talk about mediocrity: i don't know how to blog, even---someone tell me, please:

1) how do you get out "blockquote" mode? (GET ME OUTTA HERE!)

2) how do you link from a word, instead of pasting the whole link, moron-style? (thank you kva--figured it out. it's the highlighting, durrr)

i gotta end this post and start a fresh one cuz i can't get outta blockquote. yes i went to college, just shut up. (someone help me with these formatting thingies)

can't always get what u want

berryswing is sold out.

look how cute they are, close up!



pandacake is sold out. of course. life=unfair.
pandacake is a japanese tourist.



even pandacake has been to australia. (spotted near sydney harbour bridge with other pecanpal friends). kristin, how do u find these cute things that i can't buy!? i want pandacake!!

forbidden fruit stays fresh for 2+yrs!

he comes from sheep-herders and my family are cattle people, but our twice-monthly (averaged over two years) relationship has lasted longer than most [of mine]. i'm sorry, hugh, but waiting for you was taking too long, so it's come to this. i have attitude of gratitude because it's really helped me connect with the rest of humanity like nothing else. if you care enough to judge, i'm touched genuinely, but...i beg u--don't! YOU CAN'T DESTROY OUR LOVE!*

*quote from house, i think?, 3rd season

early on-set

i totally forgot about the special ABS prize and the special ACCENT prize, addendum to HBCM (hot boyz of classical music). both go to.....richard belcher! this lovable kiwi is boyfriend of cece, sweetest girl on the planet. are these the only abs in the classical music world (besides maybe christine wu)??

wherever you are, there you... cry yourself to sleep?

wait, but but but that's not true!! i'm not miserable everywhere! if i were with colin firth, i'd be happy anywhere. also, i have been happy in (1) new haven, (2) japan, (3) palo alto, (4) salzburg, ... ok, that's it. but see, i have been happy.
last night, after i helped perpetrate a fraud on the mor--i mean, masses, i honked at slow old people as i tried to escape the parking lot. now that makes me a bad person, undeserving of 'happiness'. yet, i still blame others--i officially call for the dismissal of the main culprits, the major players hastening the demise of classical music: (i am immoral and also a WUSS, so i will only post their initials:) D.H. (big-time felon-crimes against humanity, and music) and A.H. (merely a moron--oblivious, lazy, irresponsible--but still deserves credit). i post this on my blog because someone must speak out about idiots in authority positions. well, shouldn't someone? of course this is, duh, all my opinion, i suppose. yet it feels like absolute truth. someone (not me) should do something.

lie to me, part deux

lie to me

i am so drawn to these self-made people-as-art people. it's such a commitment, and so...i don't know....i just LOVE it that they are so synthetically authentic. or, they commit so wholly to this persona, this unreality. why do i love this? i don't know. i think it's beautiful; it's art, it's fantasy, it's mysterious. "POKER FACE" is a stupid song, but who cares. Look what she says in monday's nytimes:

"Lady Gaga is a lie,” she insisted. “I am a lie, and every day I kill to make it true.”

it's brave, heroic. to me: it's liberating. also: inspiring, idealistic, original, interesting. life is mystery, right? people are mysteries. self is mystery. by admitting everything she says and is is a lie---that's the ultimate telling of the truth. how cool is that. (btw, nonsequitur--ruth rendell mysteries are the BEST. )

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/04/arts/music/04gaga.html?scp=1&sq=lady%20gaga&st=cse

HOT BOYZ of CLASSICAL MUSIC

piotr anderszewski, pianist

richard belcher, cellist, enso quartet

peter otto, ass[ociate]. concertmaster, THE cleveland orch

anthony mcgill, clarinetist, MET

justin berrie, flutist (w/hot korean prop--sorry y.k.)

ken ueno, composer, ucberkeley prof

cornelius dufallo, violinist, composer, ethel, ne(x)tworks

gustavo dudamel, boy-genius/big-hair conductor

satoshi okamoto, bassist, nyphil

jun markl, saint/conductor

DR CHASE! (jesse spencer)

courtney lewis (dr. chase doppelganger), conductor

shawn weil, actor/model

ward stare, conductor/hair-model

salivation is imminent

that is not a typo, people. the highly scientific polling data has been analyzed, lab results confirmed, and the results will be posted tomorrow (HOT GUYS of CLASSICAL MUSIC).

i can smell all that bated breath (i stole that from house i think), so in the meantime enjoy some paul rudd...no, it's my pleasure.

sundays are the enemy

sunday = laundry and actively dueling depression. this morning (too early--7?) i was so doggedly fighting off the demons that while i was wheeling out the garbage bins to the curb(makes me feel better, preparing for trash day--monday--to the extent that i do it earlier and earlier on sundays as another antidote) i failed to notice someone completely slumped over on the grass next to the sidewalk right in front of my driveway. when i got to my front door i finally saw a police car driving up and the man trying to get up, but staggering around and lying back down. i still don't know what happened, but it seems he was exercising, then...got dizzy and fell in the grass? i just have this weirdo image of this man curled up like he was taking a nap, right by where i put my garbage lingering in my head. i am oblivious! i am terrible!

here's some cool "house-money" that KVA sent me. totally unrelated to my early-morning weirdness. can u believe how self-absorbed i am? even now, i'm so absorbed in my self-absorption.

simplification to believe in

i share my birth date with this lady. am i secretive? will obsession w/secrets end up hastening my demise? doubt it.

anyway, here are my over-simplifications for today:

1) people who smoke pot/people who don't (have speedy preferences);

2) people who drink coffee/people who don't;

3) people who have naturally fast vibrato/people who have slow.

__________

there you go. oh here's another: people who love hugh laurie too too much, and people who don't get it. example: i happen to know that mr. laurie's birthday falls on june 11th and i will celebrate in my own private way. don't judge. don't judge what you don't understand. i don't judge you, do i? HA.

sharing is caring

just in case you haven't seen this (i emailed it to everyone, seems like, plus it's my new profile pic on FB)--my new fave picture!

(btw, charlie quickly bored of violin and is now on Pilates for Dummies)