Aaaw yeah! OR, Putting the Magic in Magic Bars

I realized that I don't really document my baked goods (with the exception of the yeast rolls and the giant cupcake.) I am still sad I didn't take any pics of my attempts at making cinnamon rolls from scratch--especially because attempt #2 turned out AWESOME. (Don't worry, I will bake some more. See, I AM learning patience with dry active yeast...)

Here are the crowd pleasing magic bars (a/k/a seven layer bars: graham cracker & butter crust, walnuts, chocolate chips, white choco chips, butterscotch chips, toasted coconut, all smothered in sweetened condensed milk and baked to goodness.)

Mitten Penguins!

My Foray into Savory Baking

I am a dessert baker: cakes, cupcakes, brownies, magic bars, tarts and even the occasional pie. But I saw a recipe for yeast rolls that looked really good and relatively simple so I thought I'd dig up the dough hook for my mixer that I haven't used in the 10+ years I've had it and give it a shot. Here are the results:

These were really tasty fresh and warm, with a little bit of sweetness to them. They were very easy to make, but the 3.5 hours of rising time was a bit much. I know, I know: Patience, Grasshopper.

It's Not a Party Until There's Processed Cheese

The weather was wonderful this weekend and we did a little backyard grilling and games on Saturday night. Vickie brought the leftover Kraft cheese from the barn house weekend. I'll admit it was a little awkward when she put it on the table next to the party snacks.

Sorry, no speakah English

I received a call the other night:

Fortune: Hello?

Telemarketer lady: (in Mandarin) Are you the head of household?

Fortune: Sorry, I don't understand Chinese

Telemarketer lady: Oh. (hangs up)

I had to laugh, because if Telemarketer Lady actually took a second to think about my response, she'd realize that the only way I'd know she was speaking Chinese is if I understood it.

Then I waited a few minutes in fear that she would call me back and call me out on my subterfuge. She didn't.

Strangers on a Train

Uptown 1 train. I couldn't resist taking a photo of this man in an orange fleece outfit.

The Toilet Paper Doesn't Lie

I generally go over to see my sister and the kids a couple of times a week. They have two bathrooms in their apartment and it's pretty random which one I use. However, without fail, and regardless of which bathroom I use, I always end up with an empty or near-empty roll of toilet paper. It's uncanny.

The other night I unexpectedly stopped by after dinner and suprise(!) there were about 5 sheets of toilet paper left on the roll. I mentioned it to my sister and she responded, "You know, I noticed that earlier today, but I didn't think you were coming over. I guess the toilet paper doesn't lie."

Return of the Native

I recently spent a few weeks traveling in Asia. As usual, it was a great trip and I got to spend a lot of time with my family. Also as usual, I toyed with the idea of moving to Taiwan. Like the majority of non-American cultures, it is extremely family oriented and seems so much more laidback. I could easily live with my family, work some random job (English teacher, perhaps?) , hang out with my family all the time (I have a gaggle of cousins around my age there) and spend my free time traveling. Plus, I'd eat well and cheap. I think the 15 cent pot stickers might be one of the most delicious deals ever. But like the idea of moving back to MN, the weather is not conducive to happy living, and there is the language issue.

Besides, I can't deny how much I love New York City. It is my birthplace as well as my city of residence for the last 15 years. Coming back from two weeks with a homogenous population, I was not struck by how diverse this city is, but by how many weird people there are here. Maybe it was my jet lag-induced delirium, but my first subway ride since getting back from my trip almost gave me a panic attack. Every single person on the train looked like they could potentially get up and stab me. Seriously. It takes leaving the city to realize how many NOT okay people there are here.

I have since readjusted and that insulated layer that lets every New Yorker become desensitized to the craziness is back in place. I am still keeping an eye on people who might stab me though...

New Additions

Happy Holidays!

Here's a portrait of my super secret holiday craft project: glove animals.

Happy Holidays!

From the Desk of the Only Fortune Cookie in the U.S., The Sequel

I got forwarded this new site: http://www.pokemyname.com/

It tells me that one in every 8.360 Americans has my first name and it is the 1151.st most popular name in USA, behind Elwood and Garland. I barely beat out Dinh and Kris.

That was a bit disturbing. (Elwood? Really?) But I am still confident I am the only person in the U.S. with my first and last name combination.

The fun thing was that the site also spelled my name out in Braille, Morse Code and Marine Flag!

Spare some change?

I cleaned (okay, fine, I started to clean) my apartment this weekend, and I noticed that I have loose change everywhere. On the floor, on any major surface, in every room. Including the bathroom.

I am not sure how this happens, as I'm not rolling in the dough, or throwing my money this way and that as soon as I get home. I suppose part of the problem is that I am lazy and will not expend the energy to pick up a penny from the floor. However, I will stop to pick up a quarter--I need it for laundry and all.

So now I am on a mission to pick up all of the coins I find in my apartmnet. My estimate is it will total between $3.00-$5.oo--mostly in pennies and nickels.

I will keep you updated...

Out of Office Reply

Fortune Cookie is currently in Canada: http://fortunetravels.blogspot.com/

Higher Learning Gets In My Way

I'm all for higher learning, and I realize that I was once a new freshman undergrad with nary a clue, recently moved to New York City. But that was years ago and now I'm older, jaded and holding too many degrees.

The school year has started once again, and that means that my neighborhood is overrun with bewildered undergrads. Last week was Columbia University's new student orientation. I saw many packs of 18 year olds in matching colored t-shirts wandering around the neighborhood and blocking my entrance into the grocery store. And last night I ran into the market to pick up some fruit and the line was ridiculous! Again, I blame the undergrads. Grrrr.

Maddog asked why the NYU kids all had on matching purple t-shirts (apparently they do that at NYU too.)

My sister explained that it was kind of like how she wore her red summer camp t-shirt to camp every day.

Maddog responded, "They're all in camp too?"

Kind of. But with fewer singalongs and more drinking.

Baby and Mama Cupcake

Dispatch from Bike School

It's Summer Streets in Manhattan, which means that for three Saturdays in August, a few miles of avenue are closed to traffic and open to bicyclists, runners, walkers, loiterers, etc.

They are also offering free bike lessons for adults and kids.

Now, I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I don't know how to ride a bike. (No, really, I never learned when I was a kid.) I had my first bike lesson in Minnesota last summer, and figured that I might as well have lesson #2 this year. (I realize that at this rate, I will finally be riding a bike around age 56 or so.)

Overall, I think the lesson went well. They took the pedals off the bikes so we could work on our balance and coasting. We went back and forth over a stretch of slightly sloping road in front of the courthouse. I had my good moments where I felt like I was getting the hang of it. And then there were the other moments where I was not getting the hang of it. I didn't graduate up to pedals. I probably could have, but I didn't want to rush it. I think with a few more lessons, I'll actually be able to ride a bike.

HOWEVER, the biggest lesson learned today? Biking hurts like a mother. The bike seat is not kind to one's tenders. Especially when one is shifting their weight back and forth while learning to ride a bike. I hurt. I suspect I will still hurt tomorrow (wimper.)

From the desk of the only Fortune Cookie in the U.S.

I've seen this site before, but it's given me endless entertainment today: http://www.howmanyofme.com/search/

According to this site, there is only one person in the U.S. with my name. I am going to assume that they are referring to me.

Strangely enough, a few of my friends were listed as not 1, but "1 or fewer" in the U.S. That seems to minimize their significance, especially as we know that each is a solid, full-fledged (and quite wonderful) person. With the right to vote, to boot. Perhaps they are not a +1, but they are unquestionably a 1.

White Castle + Blood Donations = Not Okay

Just saw this new announcement on my work's intranet page:

During the summer months there is a critically need for blood products. Please take the time to schedule an appointment. Win a "free" coupon from White Castle for a burger, chicken, or fish sandwich when you donate in August.

I mean, really? I realize there is a great need for blood donations and I'm happy to give up a pint. But aside from the typo in the announcement, we work at a hospital and they are giving out free White Castle? Gross. There's not even a White Castle anywhere in the vicinity. AND, you can win a free coupon--that doesn't mean you'll definitely get one.

Regardless, I don't think it is part of eating right 4 my type anyway.

Addendum: HMH also noted that to add insult to injury, a White Castle burger only costs, like, 23 cents. Now I feel particularly valued for my blood donation.

NOT a True New Yorker

I went to the TimeOut NY website today in search of some good summery activities. The website is not the most user-friendly (read: too much stuff, yet not easy to find) and I got distracted when I came across the "Are You a True New Yorker" quiz.

I am a sucker for personality tests.

Now, I have lived here for the past 15 years. I like to think that I've been around the city block a few times. I was not concerned about my New York-ness. Hell, I lived here during 9/11, the blackout, the transit strike, that guy with the tiger in his apartment and before Williamsburg was completely overrun with dirty looking hipsters. Even before Target came to the 5 boroughs, for god's sake.

After answering all of the questions (and there were several pages of them), what was the verdict?

I was one step above a tourist.

WHAT!?

Needless to say, I was deeply offended. I mean, really, WTF?

Here's a sampling of questions:

• Have personal waterbug and rat horror story. CHECK.
• Be unable to leave the house in the morning without watching NY1. (I heart Pat Kiernan.) CHECK.
• Adopt a piece of furniture you found on the street. CHECK.
• Go to the Bronx for something other than a baseball game. CHECK. (shout out to SMark in SoBro!)

Those are fair questions, right? Well, I think these are the ones that demoted me to almost a tourist:

• Order what the people sitting at the next table in the Chinese restaurant are having—without knowing what it is. I'm Chinese, I know what the hell to order. IN CHINESE, IF NEEDED.

• Buy an umbrella that's just gone up in price to $10, and then leave it in a cab. Point #1: See above regarding NY1. Which means that I watch the weather on the 1s. So I know when it's going to rain and thus bring an umbrella. Or use the one I keep at work just in case, thus avoiding the need to buy an overpriced, poor quality umbrella from a man selling them out of a grandma cart. Point #2: I don't leave shit in cabs. I always look back as I'm exiting.

• Be approached by a heroin addict on a bicycle pretending to be a PA on a commercial shoot who has no money to get to work—and be impressed enough with his hustle that you don't mind forking over 15 bucks. Again, I must exclaim, WTF!?
  

Worm Update: Harvesting Worm Excrement

Well, the time had come to harvest compost from the worm bin. It's been many months since I first got the worms. We had our ups and downs and a few casualties along the way. Luckily there were no tears, at least not on my end. Harvesting compost is not quite as straight forward as people make it seem. Sure, there's a good amount of compost in my bin, but there are also worms that are very sloooooooow (or perhaps just resistant) in moving over to the other end of the bin, and there are bits of newspaper and things that aren't fully decomposed. It took a little extra time to clean it up, but I got some!














I know it's technically worm poop, but this stuff smells really good, like the best kind of soil you can find. I mixed it up with regular soil and put it as a top layer of some of my plants. I am a little nervous since over-fertilizing can easily burn plants to death, but I am hoping this will just make my plants even happier than they are now. We should find out in a day or two...

A Good Pencil is Hard to Find

I'll be honest, I don't really want to be at work. It's been a tough few weeks since returning from Road Trip 2008. I've had some serious post-vacation depressive disorder.

One of the things I'm working on at work is an audit. I have forms to fill out and double check against other documents that then get filled into an electronic form. It is as tedious as it sounds, even for someone as OCD as I am.

I decided that it would be best to use a pencil to fill out the forms since I'm not entirely sure what the hell I'm doing. I don't want to commit to ink. But I've realized that it's hard to find a good pencil in the office these days now that I'm no longer in grade school. I started out using one with refillable lead, but the lead kept breaking after every word. Then I tried an old school pencil, but I require a very sharp tip at all times (back to the OCD) and it is counterproductive for me to be sharpening my pencil every 2 seconds.

I looked around in our supply closet and although there were enough post-its to wallpaper my apartment, there was nary a pencil. Finally, my resourceful admin. assistant managed to scrounge up an automatic pencil she had snagged from another department last year. Crisis solved!

Eat Right 4 Your Type

SMM told me about this book, Eat Right 4 Your Type, and how it explains what foods are best for your blood type. It's kind of like reading the description of your zodiac sign: "hard-working," "practical," "magnetic," "confident," "independent" and "hard to resist."

I looked it up today and I have mixed feelings about my results:

Type Bs are "balanced omnivores," with a diet that is balanced and wholesome with a wide variety of foods. Well, thank goodness for that.

It says I should avoid shelfish, which is perfectly fine by me anyway, especially after the flashing-eyed lobster experience.

But then it tells me I should also avoid the following:

• corn (I heart sweet corn)
• chicken (perhaps)
• ice cream (riiiight)
• nuts (this includes peanut butter, which therefore includes Reese's peanut butter cups, which therefore is never going to happen)
• all wheat products (#%*?!)
• tomatoes (on the fence about this one: I'd survive without salsa)
• avocado (ah, guacamole!)
• tofu (for god's sake, I'm ASIAN)
• corn syrup (which I know I should avoid, but I can't help it)
• distilled liquor (for real? but UNdistilled liquor is acceptable?)

Honestly, I don't think I'll be giving up any of the above. I hope this doesn't affect my being "magnetic" and "hard to resist."

Salmonella hometownus

There's an outbreak of salmonella going on in 17 states right now, caused by raw tomatoes. The serotype guilty for the 167 known cases is Salmonella Saintpaul. Any GI outbreak is terrible and I totally sympathize with all of the local health departments out there--there is only so much poop a person can take. I just like that it's named after my hometown. Maybe even more so because there haven't been any cases in St. Paul. Or in New York, for that matter.

http://www.cdc.gov/salmonella/saintpaul/

Cute items of the day

My friends know my interests very well: cupcakes, bunnies and mini-donks. Aaron likes to send me "items of the day" related to said interests.

Some examples:




































This last one is a cake shaped like a giant cupcake. He got me the cake mold to make my own oversized cupcake.

Worm Update: Escape from Elsatraz

Well, the worms' productivity level seems to be diminishing. There doesn't appear to be any more compost than there was a month ago. And last week I was in a bit of a panic because the worms were escaping.

Not in droves or anything. That would be really gross and straight out of a B movie. But every day for a week there were 1-3 dried up worm carcasses on my kitchen floor. (Still gross, I know.)

I tried researching causes online but nothing was particularly helpful. Basically, if the worms are unhappy they will try to leave the bin. Well, that's pretty obvious. But the bin could be too wet or too dry, too hot or cold, or they don't like what they are being fed. None of these seemed to apply, but I suspect the worm population grew since I started things and I wasn't feeding them enough. The little guys were hungry.

Now I feed them twice a week and there have been zero casualties/escapees since.

A Donut Tragedy

This made me very sad to see:
















All of those little Munchkins wasted!!!

Happy 2nd Birthday e-money!

Theater Poseurs Anonymous

There are certain things I'll do for money, and pretending to be an avid fan of Broadway theater is one of them. Sure, I like theater--Shakespeare? I'm there. Anything with Patrick Stewart? Make it so. Musicals? Once a year and only when someone is visiting from out of town (and tickets are less than $50.)

Tonight I took part in a focus group on Broadway theater. I figured I could shoot the shit about theater for an hour and earn myself a cool fifty bucks cash. I've been to focus groups before and they usually irritate me. It's always a weird group of people I normally wouldn't be friends with, but could totally be part of an ensemble cast for a very bad horror movie where we each get killed off in a Midtown office building by a disgruntled temp. Regardless, I was totally out of my league--these women were hardcore theater people (note: I wouldn't have been surprised, but would have had a meltdown, if anyone started singing showtunes.) It seemed like these people spent all of their time and money on going to see shows. This was a subculture I knew nothing about. We fear what we don't understand.

Having said that, I've been trying to decide if I relate more to weird worm composting workshop attendees who can't listen or weird theater fanatics who talk incessantly about shows. It's kind of a toss-up, but I'm going to have to go with the worm people.

Worm Update: Making Black Gold

It's been about a month since I started my worm composting bin. So far, so good! There were a few fatalities during the initial days while everyone was settling in (evident by the 3 dried up worm carcasses I found), and I am not entirely sure how they escaped. But other than that, the worms seem happy. I feed them weekly and I try to give them a variety of food. I suspect they would be perfectly fine with salad greens every time, but I try to mix it up. It's the least I can do after harassing them on a daily basis--I like to check in on them and make sure they didn't all die on me. It's very therapeutic. Kind of like how you would pet your dog or bunny to decompress after a long day, except I poke around at my bin of worms. They are more like pets than little compost-making servants.

Most importantly, they are making compost (a/k/a Black Gold)!!! I am very excited. I think my plants are going to be so happy when I can finally use it. And I have a growing list of people who want some of the goods.












compost!

Resignation

I received a forwarded email from a high school friend of mine in which someone inquired after our high school reunion, along with an accusation that I was shirking my duties.

This is where I should disclose that I was actually senior class president in high school. I know, I know, totally embarrassing and lame. Obviously, I didn't really think through my future responsibilities with that position and was more interested in collecting yet another title for my college applications.

Luckily, I am not in contact with many people from high school, except for Dirty (but wild horses couldn't drag him to reunion anyway) and the one who forwarded me that email. Essentially, I am off the grid.

But for the record, I am officially resigning as senior class president. I feel that someone who has more school spirit (Go Scots!)--and interest--should plan our next high school reunion. I planned AND attended my first (and last) reunion and that was enough for me. I remember faux-cooing over endless pictures of children, barely recognizing people in their weight gain, using the bathroom as an excuse to get out of awkward conversation with my former best friend, and being told that I "used to be so nice in high school." I guess I wouldn't get elected senior class president if there was a re-vote. I'm not sure if that's better or worse than my friend who got "Wow, you're so nice. You were such a bitch in high school."

Sigh.

Off-setting my carbon footprint one worm at a time

So. I have started an indoor worm composting bin. I went to a workshop about it at the public library last week. There were a surprisingly large number of people at the workshop and they were pretty much what you would expect people at a worm composting workshop to be like. Except they were were a little weirder and NOT good listeners. There must have been at least 3 people who asked questions which the presenter had already gone over and was also reiterated in the pamphlets they gave out.

Regardless, here are some pics of my first day of composting:
































Basically, you take a box and drill air holes into it. Put lots of shredded damp newspaper (bedding) in. Throw in half a pound of red wiggler worms and there you go. I gave them a day to settle in and this morning I fed them some lettuce. Supposedly, it will take them a few weeks and then voila! I will have plenty of compost to keep my plants happy.

Oh yes, and my garbage (and carbon footprint) will be reduced since I'll be throwing all of my fruit & vegetable waste in with the worms.

OMG, MEATBALLS!!! redux

The Third Annual Meatball Cookoff was held last weekend, and there were more contestants (and meatballs) than ever before. The prizes included trophies and the specially designed belt buckle.





























This year's roster included:

• Aarons Balls
• Big Bill
• The Sloan Rangers
• White Trash & the Mexican
• No Country for Old Meatballs
• Oh Susannah, Don't You Cry for Meatballs
• Puerto Rican Express
• Spooky Booty
• Jersey City

It was a tough competition, and the two-time champion got ousted in the first round. He was devatasted.

Final results:

• Winner, judging rounds: Jersey City
• Winner, audience favorite: No Country for Old Meatballs (our very own Dirty Cookie)
• Ultimate winner in the final meatball taste-off: No Country for Old Meatballs

Congratulations to the 2008 Meatball Champion!

The flu that keeps on giving

I have been sick for over 3 weeks (but it feels like a lifetime--I've been learning to live with my disability). There have been 3 phases of illness, for each of the 3 weeks:

1. Pain, fatigue and fever


2. Cough and phlegm


3. Congestion and copious amounts of snot (a/k/a more phlegm, just exiting my body by different means)
   

So during this time, I hit rock bottom. I went through numerous bottles of cough medicine. I found myself going home after work every day only to lay on my couch and watch bad television. I got sucked into American Idol. Even worse, I was watching the AI recap show on TV Guide channel. Yes, the TV Guide Channel. I also craved cherry Jello. I hadn't had Jello in years. I found great comfort in the stuff.

Anyway, I'm slowing inching towards a recovery and have resumed my social life. Although, while out, I still think about being home and watching TV. I plan to spend the remainder of my convalescence in Puerto Rico, where the warm sea air will do me good. Mojitos and plaintains can't hurt either.

The case of the haunted hair dryer

The other night I woke up at 1:44am to a constant high pitched buzzing noise. I am no Nancy Drew, but the noise was really annoying so I got up and went into my bathroom to investigate. My hair dryer had somehow turned on (I leave it plugged in, but I know it wasn't on when I went to bed that evening) and apparently it had been on long enough to warm my bathroom by an additional 10 degrees or so.

Very weird.

I flicked the switch a few times until I was sure it was off and went back to bed.

Just as I was falling back asleep, I heard the hair dryer turn back on.

Now we're talking freaky.

I got up again, unplugged the blasted thing and brought it into the bedroom with me. It took me a while to get back to bed afterwards as I pondered the cause of this anomaly: I figured it must have been caused by a weird power surge or something. The hair dryer is pretty old too. Because if it was an intruder, why style your hair before robbing/attacking me? And if it was something of paranormal origin, why not turn the TV on instead? Or the lights?

Invertebrates, ew

It's simple, I don't eat animals without a spine (read: most seafood.) This is one of the main reasons I don't fancy Chinese wedding banquets, which are about 10 courses of invertebrate goodness. I had the pleasure of attending one of these recently.

Here are some of the dishes served:














First course: lobster-slaw. Yeah, you heard me right. Lobster-slaw. Chunks of lobster mixed in with honeydew melon, cantaloupe and globs and globs of mayonnaise. Globs. And if you notice the two maraschino cherries protruding on either side of the lobster's head, they are not the same color because they were also FLASHING LIGHTS. Yep, flashing lights.

Could it be those flashing lights that made me nauseous, or the lobster slaw?















Second Course: Miscellaneous Seafood Platter. Those red things in the forefront are little be-tentacled creatures, possibly calamari. Honestly, those little guys almost pushed me over the edge. The noodle-y looking stuff in the middle is jellyfish. Not exactly sure what the cubed stuff to the left is. And on top is fried pork skin & fat.

We only stayed for two more courses: the gelatinous brown seafood soup with mysterious white bits (crab, perhaps?) and the slices of abalone covered in brown sauce.

Since I knew to expect an all seafood-all evening extravaganza, I made sure to eat some pizza beforehand. Which means that during the banquet, all I did was drink wine. Did I mention we were seated at the head table, up on a stage in front of the 100 or so other guests? I tried to look like I ate a little bit hoping no one got the (wrong) impression that I was the anorexic drunk relative. But that didn't matter once the Chinatown mafia MC and DJ crew got the party started and I saw middle-aged Chinese men put on pink felt cowboy hats and dance with imaginary lassos.

The important thing was that the bride and groom looked very happy and the groom did not remove her garter with his teeth.

Worst Case Scenario: Junk in the Trunk

I've watched my fair share of action movies (Live Free or Die Hard, anyone?), and I've read several How-to's on surviving a kidnapping and other dangerous situations (windmill your arms and run in a zig-zag formation!). They always tell you that if you're stuck in the trunk of a car to either kick out the tail light and wave your hand to alert other cars you're in there or in newer models, to use the escape latch to open the trunk. Sure, that sounds easy enough, but does it really work?

We had the opportunity to test the latter method: we were in a parking garage in Philly and as we dropped off our bags in the trunk of the rental car we told Jamie to get in and test out the latch. As always, he was game:






















You'll all be happy to know that the safety latch does indeed work, and Jamie made it out alive and well. Whew.

Searching for Kicks

Last night I decided it was high time to get a new pair of black slip-on Vans since my current pair have seen better days. I couldn't find them online, so I figured I'd score in any of the stores along Broadway in SoHo since about every third store sells shoes. Instant gratification and no shipping costs!

Just a little blood, sweat and tears instead.

I swear, I went into EVERY SINGLE shoe store on Broadway and could not find them. Either they didn't have my size or they only had patterned ones, which did me no good.

Frustrated, I stopped by to see the niece and nephew and have some dinner. As I am leaving their building, what do I see? An empty Vans box someone had discarded on the sidewalk.

Salt on the wound, my friends. Salt on the wound.

However, something compelled me to check in this tiny store right next to the subway entrance. LO AND BEHOLD, they actually had my size! And for cheap! The guy said they just got a shipment in that day. I told him he had just made my day. I considered buying two pairs, but I thought that might be excessive.

The moral of the story is that good triumphs over evil. Okay, maybe not, but at least I have a new pair of kicks!

Fact of the day

It takes 3 kernels of corn to make the corn syrup used in one kernel of candy corn.

Also, totally unrelated to candy corn (as far as I know), but something I just read: men are 12 times more likely to be bitten by another human than women.

Miscellaneous Tidbits

1. Maddog sees a kiwi fruit on the kitchen counter and says to my sister, "Mommy, that's a really hairy potato!"

That made me laugh.

2. I went to the IT Expo at work and got a lot of free goodies, including this one:

I think it kind of looks like me. In scrubs and with shorter hair. And no lipstick. And fatter. FINE. At least they are trying to represent Asians, okay? Christina said it looked like a man. I wasn't exactly clear on whether she was implying I looked like a man also or that I did not look like the squishee toy. I'd like to think that I'm prettier than the squishee toy and that I do not look like a man, but it's the closest thing I have to a toy looking remotely like me.

Turn the Lights Out on Fat

The other night the light in my kitchen went out. My ceilings are a little high and changing the bulb requires dragging the kitchen table into the center of the room and climbing up on it to reach the light socket (Yes, I could just buy myself a ladder. But why bother when you can stack up the furniture you already have???). It was dark out so I figured I'd wait until it was daytime to do it. My dishes could easily wait another day.

Well, my kitchen was so dark I couldn't properly scavenge for any evening snacks. This made me realize I was onto something: the darkness diet. You can't find the food so you won't eat it! My friend D suggested I write a diet book entitled something like "Turn the Lights Out on Fat."

BRILLIANT! Along with my mini-donk farm, I will soon become a billionaire. Well, except for people who snack during daylight hours and sleep-snackers...