Image Associations

It happens, you talk to several people on msn and when you think the cursor is in the right conversation, you hit send before you realize the mistake.

*All names changed to protect their identity - really, it is only to protect you should you ever come across him!

...in the middle of a conversation about something somewhat random...

Me: Bob* something?

Kit Kat: Wong*?

Kit Kat: the Chicken Wing Dude?!

Me: uh..Say What?

Kit Kat: Oh

Kit Kat: Oops

Kit Kat: READ THE WRONG SCREEN!!
...
Kit Kat: Bob was at a client once

Kit Kat: and he was holding on to a drumstick and chewing it

Kit Kat: when the client walked in and asked him questions

Me: hmm...classy! Should I ever meet said Bob Wong, the first thing that will pop in my head is "HE'S THE CHICKEN WING DUDE!" no matter what else I learn from him from then on!!!

Because he's "Nice"

Golddigger, a source of many entries, (I wonder why sometimes, and I think it's because he enjoys being a rock star, and because he doesn't have a care in the world..or does he?)...he offers his pet peeves and observations on a regular basis...here's one...

GD: I hate it when girls respond with "because he's nice" when asked why they like a guy. Shouldn't the guy be nice to begin with? Isn't that part of the general minimal characteristics/qualities a guy should have?

Me: Yeah, I would like to think so! Bare minimum and the rest is just a bonus. But not all girls think that way, there IS usually more substance behind it. (Some unexplainable...)

GD: Nope, everytime I ask a girl, she responds with the same Nice-factor. Blech. I need more.

Me: But sometimes the one word nice describes many things to an individual.

GD: So then...why would you like a guy?

Me: Hmm...er...only because you keep repeating the word...because he's nice?

"Food" Samples @ the Market

Many people seem to love the food sample stands at Costco. It's a live version of an infomercial and you get to sample the product..and if well made, you're enticed right away to bring the item home. While being at Costco, we're able to read the labels and easily figure out what exactly you are eating - salsa, chicken, mini pizzas...you get the drift. When you get to the Asian supermarkets, that is when the items become tricky, because the labels may not be in the language we are accustomed to. Sure, I can identify a wonton or a green-onion pancake...but something that looks bit more..."exotic" or does not look like anything I've ever eaten before..may not entirely entice me.

After eating at the food fair, we decided to browse inside the supermarket to see what snacks are available. While trying to still digest my lunch, I was walking slowly behind Lemon when we noticed there were many food sample stands near us. Lemon only had a few bites of lunch so she had the munchies but had no particular craving. It's great stuff, similar to sampling a variety of gelato before committing to one flavor (or two). She dives right in to see what was available. However, before the brain sensor tells my hand to move towards Lemon to stop her from reaching for the sample from the paper cup...she throws her head back and swallows the "soup" in one gulp.

Me: Damn Lemon! Do you even know what that sh*t is??? There was no sign anywhere near promoting the concoction. All I saw was a bag, full of nondescriptive dried herbs (I think that's what I saw!)

Lemon: Huh? oh..hmm..

Me: It could've been testosterone-producing stuff, or liquid viagra..or stuff not meant for us females?!

Lemon: Oh well...(and has a good laugh). Iron stomach.

Me: Dear Lord, you sure would be quite entertaining on trips as you would just about try anything and I would have to bring along a first aid kit for your impending tummy troubles!

Walk of Shame

Sometimes incidents jog your memory and you tend to revisit past events...

One summer night a few years ago, my colleagues and I decided to paint the town red...(bonding with colleagues, sometimes it can be fun, sometimes...it just does not work.)...these planned outings, they always seemed to work and one person always ends up being the superstar for the evening. We reserved a couple of hotel rooms close to the scene of the crime and the party began. It was a costume event and everyone decided to bring their clothes to my room and change. Half an hour later and various bottles of stoli sat on the desk empty...and we were out the door.

Venue: Commodore (home of the bouncy danceable floor!)
Liquid Dinner: Shots I never knew existed...and can I actualy say those out loud?!
Time at club: not long...
Entertainment: Honestly can't recall.
Priceless Moment: Having your drunken colleague bust in on you while you are being sick in the closed cubicle because she felt she was sober to take care of you.

All of us somehow managed to leave the place soon after, hopped in the cab and returned to the hotel room. My cousin dropped me on the Heavenly Bed and I passed out while she managed to run out for some McD's (I didn't even notice.) She had to leave really early in the morning and when I finally woke up with the biggest hangover ever...I realized that the opened bottles of liquor was making me more nauseous and I spent quite some time by the porcelain god. What was worse in this whole ordeal is having to clean up the mess before I checked out (trust me, being near booze after a night like that...it's enough to make you never want to see the liquor store again!). And all the clothes my colleagues left behind, I figure they would want them back...they left me no bag to carry them in so I had to just pick them all up and left the hotel and walk to my car which was a few blocks away. Hungover, with clothes in my hand and looking much worse than how i felt...in the early hours of the day...

A Walk in My Shoes

If you know me, you know I like to wear heels (actually all kinds of shoes...I love shoes...., just short of Imelda Marcos' impulses because I lack her deep pockets..hehe)...and if I find a nice pair of stilettos, it's a bonus when they are comfy! And luckily for me, I actually own a pair of these! I know I am able to walk in them, dance in them and still feel pretty good after a night out just kickin' it. However, I've learned that there are limits, even with great things.

* * *

It has definitely been awhile since I had the chance to blog, let alone, sleep, eat and do things in my so-called 'past' life since i started a new job. Job, that in itself will be the next blog entry...but let me finish this one...have to think back to this particular night..it is definitely worth noting...and now...giggling about. Looking back and laughing at the things I do, is one of the more amusing things in the day...thankfully!

* * *

So the last-minute change of drinking partners for the night may have been a foreshadowing for the night's festivities. Sometimes you just have to go with it and let it rip. Regardless of not really knowing the crowd at the club, I had my dancing shoes on and was ready to have some fun. Sat down with Militant A to have a bevy...which led to two and then it led to not even remembering how many. The uncertain number was a result of enjoying the conversation and company and then after the music decided to repeat itself, we decided to hit the dance floor.

* * *

Ok, memory is slowly starting to allude me...schedule has been crazy and I've finally got some downtime..ie. sleep..and developed a taste for certain grape varietals...hehe..who am I kidding...work is going to drive me to join AA...fortunately, alcohol consumption is at a moderate pace. So..back to oh..two months ago..

* * *

Oh yes, dancing, that was fun, like the adage of dance like no one's watching goes...we found ourselves surrounded by a couple of young puppies who "just wanted to dance with somebody"..but dude..you're in my space and I just really wanted to dance with my friend! With my stilettos on, the kids haven't grown to their potential. Gotta give them props for bravery tho...the older fellas should take note. After a couple more twirls on the dance floor, we decided (Mili told the cab, "home please) that it would be best if I crashed at her place since it's closer to work in the morning for me (yeah, in a few hours)...good call.

* * *

Some laughter erupted from going through the night's events over instant noodles...disturbed the sleeping roomie who laughed at our semi-drunken state and passed out watching an episode of SATC. Big, Carrie, Aidan, Shoes. Sweet Dreamin'...

* * *

Woke up and got ready for work...why did I decide to work on Saturdays...no change of clothes (oh my, party clothes at work?)...and hmm..stilettos on hardwood floors...need to walk to Starbucks. Need coffee. In what would normally be a 15-minute walk to work, it took FOREVER. In stilettos, in last night's clothes...it felt like a walk of shame...(haha...if you're laughing, you've been there and I can elaborate on the next entry cuz it's a good one!) Walking slowly and in a straight line, hoping that my feet will last me the next 8 hours...the only day I decide not to leave my car downtown but at home....the day that my oh-so-reliable brother decides to head down to the States, the day I may have to take public transit (princess does not take the bus)...the day..oh, my cousin decides to drop in the store to pay a visit and offer me a ride home. My shoes AND my feet were saved.

Stanford...My GBF

Damn...first post in a long time and this news flash supercedes another story I'm working on...just got word that my Stanford is leaving me...my GBF. Yup, that would stand for Gay Best Friend...Stanford a la Sex in the City..however, he's not really gay (altho I'd wish he was, cuz every girl needs a gay best friend)...he's just very metrosexual and has probably been hit on by more guys than yours truly (not even kidding in that he has his own stalker story that has now become a classic legend)...and no, his name's not really Stanford. No warning, no nothing, not even a phone call. Not even an email, just a msn message. Technically, he's not really leaving me, he's moving cities...

Me: forever?
Stanford: nothing is forever...