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We can't all live the American Dream…some of us don't even like it.
hello, now I am here:
http://angry-asian-girl.blogspot.com/
Please update any bookmarks.
I had a thought today, while entertaining Aunt Flo: why can’t we abort our uterus lining every month?
And by “abort” I mean, have a trained medical professional stick their little vacuum up the vagina and SUCK out all of the uterine lining (or whatever that disgusting clotted bloody mess is)? Why do chicks have to endure 5 to 7 days of this constant drip? We fix leaky faucets, why not a leaky womb? I mean, c’mon, it’d be like scraping out a pumpkin on Halloween!
Tampons are fucking expensive. And tell me, was it a man who invented the different types of tampons? Because why on earth would a woman want her tampons to be “super plus” and “super”? Why can’t they be sorted alphabetically or numerically? If you really wanted to continue to crush any sort of self esteem about physical appearance, you could even number them with dress sizes. “I have a size 4 flow – what is your size?”
But I digress, back to the uterine lining. I obviously don’t understand the biology of the monthly menstrual cycle, but it seems like a constant drip; day and night, night and day. So why can’t we fix this? Is there a scientist in a lab somewhere coming up with a way to vacuum out month-old flesh? And I’m not talking about this birth control shit that stops it up to only 3 or 4 times a year – that stuff is all naturale, and if you stop it up, it’s gotta go somewhere, and that just can’t be healthy. (I envision some 38 yr old woman exploding with blood, after years of stored up periods).
In closing: it is raining out today, and I hate the rain. My pants are wet. And I say “fuck you” to all those people who think they’re so deep because they love thunder storms.
Someone sold me out to a bunch of merchandise catalogs, because lately, I’ve been getting crap from all sorts of places, such as Eddie Bauer, CB2, THE SCOOTER STORE (really?!), and Soft Surroundings. …I don’t shop at any of these places, nor do I have any sort of online accounts with them – must be some behind-the-scenes corporate synergy (although what do scooters have to do with outdoor apparel?).
Anyways, while looking through the Soft Surroundings catalog, I came upon this Hair Matte Powder (you MUST click the link and read the product description). Dude, what the fuck ?! I understand powder make up – it’s “good” for your skin, and an alternative to liquid make up. I understand powder for your eyelids – eye shadow. And for you ass – baby powder. But, seriously, hair powder to hide scalp insecurities? That’s a new one! Now we’re being told that we have to feel bad about ourselves because we have thin hair or because our roots have grown out because we were too busy LIVING OUR LIVES to get to the salon! I guess you can sell anything as long as you can convincingly market to our insecurities – “Beauty is having a high hairs-per-square-inch of scalp ratio.” And it has to be true, because there’s a product for it!
But really, what does Soft Surroundings know anyway? Oh, and did I mention the product is sold by Joan Rivers? …Yup.
Kind of in the process of moving this blog back to blogger, because it’s where I moved my art blog. But, meh, no rush.
After reading back through my posts since I started this blog, I feel that I have become less aggressive, less angry, and less shrewd. (This is also evidence-d by my sparse posting). This may be a good sign for the God-fearing, but this Pisses Me Off!
My friend made a good point the other day, when I told her that I feel like I’m slowly being turned into a Stepford Suburban Woman. I told her how I envied a mutual friend of ours who is still involved in the art scene, who can speak her mind, and be angry and shrewd and magnifty the wrongs of the world. My friend said that since I’m not really in that scene anymore, I’m slowly evolving to fit into my current scene: claims processing suburban hell.
I need a change, badly.
I just ran into this crafty eco-friendly, DIY blog today: {{ Adventures in Dressmaking }}. This blogess makes her own clothing from old/cheap/thrifty clothes. She knows her way around a sewing machine, and she can copy patterns from popular brands like J. Crew and Anthropologie (LOVE anthropologie <3). She also does home decor projects using recycled items and whatnot. This lady crafts creatively on a budget to get what she wants.
I’ve also come across this blog: {{ Anthroholic }}. This blogess loves to shop at Anthropologie, and posts photos of herself trying on Anthro outfits in fittin rooms. She also posts images of items she likes from Anthropologie.com, and posts photos of her “Daily Outfits.” This lady loves to shop and and accessorize.
These two blogesses are interesting foils to each other, because they show two sides of materialism: the recycling, eco-friendly penny-pinching Martha Stewart, and the coveting, trendy consumer who aids the economy. The first lady would replicate a cool ruffled tee for under $10, and the second lady would probably buy the cool ruffled tee in every color.
I will admit that I am jealous of both: the first in her craftiness and thriftiness (I’d love to figure out all of the projects she does and have the time to do them!), and the second for her stylish eye and ability to apparently shop at Anthroplogie comfortably (She has such cute outfits!). I don’t think either of these women are in the wrong — they are interesting examples of the extremes we women go to, to get the clothing and accessories that we want.
Edit: This post doesn’t sound angry…I’m losing my edge!
If you can’t tell already, I am an Asian girl (a slightly angry one…I hide it well in public). I live in a really white community, I grew up “white” in an all-white family, and I have a really Norwegian/German name. Well, it just dawned on me the other day, that I have “See ID” on the back of my credit/debit cards, and perhaps it is puzzling to cashiers that an Asian girl has a Norwegian/German girl’s credit card…! — “Where’d this yellow girl get this white girl’s card?”
This crossed my mind when I had my [white] friend pay with my card at a fast food drive thru…the cashier didn’t even blink. I cautioned my friend, telling her that I didn’t have my ID on me if the cashier asked. And, well, guess it didn’t even matter. I told her it was because she isn’t a foreigner. I usually get asked when I use my card…?!
Apparently, I am the infidel. God, please don’t let Americans and Asians get in a fight cuz then I’ll be fucked. Yes, this identity theft idea may just be paranoia…but how will I ever know? Can’t erase my fucking face!
Went with my friends to David’s Bridal (aka Estrogen Hell) to find a bridesmaid dress for my friend’s upcoming wedding. We picked out a couple styles and went to a fitting room, but were accosted by a slightly cranky salesman. I guess the employees work on commission, so he wanted to make sure he “helped” us. Well, in the end, he didn’t!
To jump into stereotype land, he was a cranky, condescending gay man (My gaydar was going off…c’mon, he works at David’s Bridal…!). He was a by-the-book-salesman for David’s Bridal (“You should sign up for the credit card…Have you seen our shoes? Try our shoes on…Let’s set an alteration date today-otherwise you won’t get one!“). He had that sort of thin, nasal voice that hoity toity British butlers have in cartoons, but without the British accent. And all that wasn’t too bad for me, until he asked my friends and I if we were comfortable wearing heels, and then lectured us on how to break heels in…seriously? If we want your opinion on heels, Mr. I-wear-flat-shoes-always-because-I’m-a-man, we will ASK you.
He continued to ask us about about trying on shoes several times, even after my friend politely declined. He wanted us to visualize where the hem line of the dress would be. Dude, we don’t even know if we’re going to BUY this dress. He also had to ask *three* times about what “backorder” meant (my friend asked if the dress was in stock, and not “backordered”). Also, this guy had no idea about different dye lots and having all of our dresses made from the same dye lot, so the colors would all match perfectly. To which he basically said: “What? I’ve never heard of that…maybe with other companies, but not with us. All of our colors are the same.” Well, buddy, are you there in Philippines, with the children, hand-dying the fabric? No?! Didn’t think so. The creepiest part was when he unzipped my friend’s dress to pull out the tag and write down the style number…without asking. Touchy, Zip Zip, Touchy!
This guy was just too stiff and stuffy, and seemed to treat us like we had no idea about dresses or shoes. Did our boobs and purses not give away our sexual identity? Guess not. In the end, my friend did pick out a dress style, but we told the Salesman Failure that we would think about it and left the store. We will be going back to order the dresses…but hopefully we can give the commission to someone else.
I don’t think I’m asking too much here, when I want a sales person’s assistance – I just want them to be knowledgeable about the store/merchandise without being condescending…oh, and for them not to be an annoying little bitch!
Fact: you are not allowed to work at the Olive Garden and pronounce Italian as “eye-talian.” NO NO NO !!
Happy New Year !
Now back to the cynicism and sarcasm. Lately at work, since it is such a joy to work at my job, I have discovered some interesting blogs online. They’re the reader-submitter type ones, none of those I-woke-up-and-had-toast-this-morning ones (like mine). I think I have posted a couple of these before, so please forgive the redundancy. But go ahead and peruse at your own leisure and laugh at our fellow humans:
Autocomplete Me
Google users will appreciate this — see my previous post for an example!
Cakewrecks
Because cakes are not always pretty.
Engrish
English as a second language…gone wrong.
Lamebook
For anyone who uses Facebook. Watch out, you may show up on here next…
Look at this Fucking Hipster
The name says it all. You know who they’re talking about, that pretentious neo-emo kid in the tight jeans and day glow shoes, listening to their iPod, ignoring the world…
Overheard in New York
New Yorkers say funny [and sometimes horrible] things!
Passive Aggressive Notes
For anyone who has written a note instead of confronting people.
Regretsy
“Handmade? It looks like you made it with your foot!”
Sketchy Santas
A little out of season now, but still funny.
Why the Fuck do you Have a Kid
Again, the name says it all.
I was hanging out with a fellow Asian friend tonight, and we decided to test Google’s “finish your search question” skills…
Interesting to see what most Google users are curious about. And it is calming to know that we are a progressive society that doesn’t dwell on stereotypes…in public! You can’t even search the internet for your weird/gross/random questions without the whole world knowing it. HA!