In progress!

Just kidding.

Guy At Kinko’s: You’re Fired.

I needed to take a passport-style photo to apply for a Visa, so Hairy popped me into a Kinko’s. I’m going to the mothercountry in April for family bizness. Manda said I look frazzled. I think I look pissed. It’s kind of mug-shot-like, non? There’s a nice, washed-out tone to it that gives it a certain je ne sais quoi along with my strong look of disdain.

I don’t know why, but this season, I’ve started watching the Bachelor. I never wanted to be one of THOSE girls who watches the Bachelor. I recall living in Palo Alto with Renee and Patrick, and Patrick’s ladyfriend ran into the livingroom, turned on the Bachelor, and asked me who I wanted to win like it was the most urgent question ever. I was like, HUNH!?!?!

I am mostly in awe that any of these girls could possibly believe they are falling in love with this dude in a matter of weeks. I think he should shag all of them, pick his top 3, and then let his kid pick the winner after a rousing game of UNO. (I choose UNO because I once tried to play this with a small child, and it was one of the most frustrating experiences in my life because 1) I don’t like playing with children and 2) she kept making up her own rules so that she would win. THAT’S NOT FAIRRRrrrrR!!)

Every time I watch the show, all I can see is the Chairman from Iron Chef, which kind of makes the experience even better. Hairy does not see this resemblance. I think it’s pretty clear.

In other news, Hairy and I watched Revolutionary Road tonight. He concludes: “What we learn from the 50s is: 1) drink lots of booze 2) smoke lots of cigarettes and 3) sex doesn’t last very long, no lady orgasms.”

I think the moral of this entire entry is for you to GET IN THE KITCHEN.

We had epic plans for the Horrid Romantic Comedy Marathon Tri-fecta for Valentine’s Day.

Confessions of a Shopaholic, then He’s Just Not That Into You, and then coming home to watch Nights in Rodanthe on Pay Per View. We know how to do it up, right? Richard Gere FTW!

I was actually really curious about what my mental state would be like after such abuse, but alas, we woke up a bit too late to execute this properly, since any SMART person should know that you can’t gp watch a romantic comedy on VDAY at 8pm without buying advance tix and getting there really early.

AAANYWAY, we decided to go eat something instead. HOWEVER, a SMART person should also know that you basically shouldn’t leave the house on VDAY because there’s no parking anywhere and all the restaurants are packed. I tried to think of a place where NOBODY would go to eat.

I picked: 37 (degrees Celsius) Dessert Cafe in the Sunset, a tiny hole in the wall Chinese dessert cafe where white people dare not tread. It’s probably the least classy and romantic place I could think of besides fast food.

Hairy tried some epic Yucky eats this night.

First up was his strange beverage: SALTY LEMON 7UP? WHAT??!?!?!?!

We didn’t even have any idea what it was until it came. Apparently they put a pile of salty preserved lemon chunks at the bottom of the glass, and then you fill the glass with 7Up. Hairy said it was strange but not terrible, and a mix of salty and sweet. I declined a taste.

I had tea and pork cutlet ramen. Hairy also got ramen but opted for the BACON-WRAPPED HOT DOG ROLLS ON TOP!!

We finished with a baked tapioca pudding with a ribbon of red bean paste running through it, but I didn’t get a picture of that one, unfortch.

All in all, it was my idea of the perfect Valentine’s Day…. i.e. it was just like any other day and not a big deal. And I still plan to experience the Horrid Romantic Comedy Marathon Tri-fecta at some point soon!