this morning on my way to work, I stopped by starbucks to get oatmeal and a drip coffee. I paid for the car behind me too. I hope they enjoyed their free drinks!
hope you're enjoying the free things in life too.
31 October 2010
new: all hallows eve @ bulls head pub
this year, Amy and I both tried something new: dressing up and going out for Halloween! I was a cowgirl, and she was a cat. I was super stoked to buy my boots and denim cutoffs for super cheap-- under $25 for both items-- and I owned or borrowed the remaining parts.
i even curled my hair in little ringlets for tonight!
here's Amy:
we chose the bulls head pub in meridian for our halloween destination. the no-smoking atmosphere was awesome! so nice to come home and not smell like marlboro man's armpit. we split some nachos and laughed at the comedy show--Gabriel something (he's been on comedy central)-- and grooved to the dueling pianos afterward. Amy put on a sad frown until I requested "jet airliner" by Steve miller band for her.
a fun night! so glad to experience something new with a good friend.
i even curled my hair in little ringlets for tonight!
here's Amy:
we chose the bulls head pub in meridian for our halloween destination. the no-smoking atmosphere was awesome! so nice to come home and not smell like marlboro man's armpit. we split some nachos and laughed at the comedy show--Gabriel something (he's been on comedy central)-- and grooved to the dueling pianos afterward. Amy put on a sad frown until I requested "jet airliner" by Steve miller band for her.
a fun night! so glad to experience something new with a good friend.
30 October 2010
new: misc
new: zero calorie, zero sugar, zero taste rating Monster aka poison disguised as canned energy
new: fall leaves make the view from my balcony nearly picture-perfect
new: my first pair of danskos. miracle to solve my aching feet? pending.
new: fall attire. complete with new skinny jeans.
what's new with you, reader?
new: fall leaves make the view from my balcony nearly picture-perfect
new: my first pair of danskos. miracle to solve my aching feet? pending.
new: fall attire. complete with new skinny jeans.
what's new with you, reader?
new: isaiah
dear readers,
i typed a thoughtful and meaningful post last night on my phone that did not post. steve jobs, i fall more and more OUT OF love with you every day. here's my rewritten-- and perhaps less real-- version.
xoxo, -a.
tonight, i attended another friday night bible study at calvary chapel which focused on the sin of false idolatry. the group's regular leader was absent, but i rather liked the lecture-style of this week's leader. as we read passages from the book of isaiah-- which the study leader (is this the right word? it sounds odd) stated is the most quoted book in the new testament and is considered the most "linguistic" book of the bible-- i couldn't help but think of queequeg and his little wooden idol (from moby-dick, for the non-Melville enthusiasts). but the actuality of worshipping false idols is far more prevalent than burning incense and hair in a closet. according to isaiah 45:18-19, "he who created the heavens, he is God; he who fashioned and made the earth, he founded it; he did not create it to be empty, but formed it to be inhabited— he says: "I am the LORD, and there is no other. (19) I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness; I have not said to Jacob's descendants, 'Seek me in vain.'" so the evolutionist in me is a sinner, which i already knew. then, the study leader said:
"it makes no sense that someone would want a God who is impersonal, who may or may not care about you and what happens to you. so when you die, you just poof into the air and become one with the universe?"
wait, has he been reading my blog?
according to the bible, God created everything with a purpose and does not hide from his seekers. curious. so, i dedicated the remainder of my friday night to reading all 66 chapters of isaiah in order to learn more (and honestly, to scope out the so-called "linguistic" features... which i hope are isaiah's true words/meaning and not formed from the creative mind of the translator).
here are a few things i discovered from my self-motivated new journey into the depths of the crinkly pages of my red NIV bible:
- yes, i am a sinner, but i am in good company. God calls out "those who are heroes at drinking wine and champions at mixing drinks" (5:22).
- i am somewhat comforted that isaiah depicts God as an astute and insightful knower of hearts. God can see through the false praise and outwardly "christian" appearances and see to the blackness of humanity: "Woe to those who go to great depths to hide their plans from the LORD, who do their work in darkness and think, 'Who sees us? Who will know?' " (29:15). the best kept secret does not escape God. "what is dark in me illumine," wrote Milton (and which also serves as the inspiration for the title of my blog). so what are you doing to do about it?
- isaiah 53:10-11 caused me much anguish. the message of the chapter is that christians undergo much suffering for God but are rewarded: "Yet it was the LORD's will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the LORD makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand. (11) After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied". sooo... what if i don't want fertile loins and a long life and actually just throw my hands up and say "eff this" instead of wait around for my so-called prizes of children (gah) and universal satisfaction. none of these things really appeal to me... perhaps i could bargain and ask for a free pass to eat all the sugar and carbs i want and not gain a pound. sigh.
- and secondly, i have issues with someone accepting their lot in life as "a guilt offering" of God. here, child who was molested by your step-father, be comforted. here, student of columbine high school who was shot in the face, know you have a purpose. like, wtf.
sometimes i wish we all could just get along. sometimes i wish my brain and heart would work together to find peace. sometimes i wish my constant struggle for purpose and meaning would just be answered. sometimes i wish a bacom guacamole burger with a side of fries could cure not only a rumbling tummy but also a wandering mind.
as always, your thoughts are welcome.
i typed a thoughtful and meaningful post last night on my phone that did not post. steve jobs, i fall more and more OUT OF love with you every day. here's my rewritten-- and perhaps less real-- version.
xoxo, -a.
tonight, i attended another friday night bible study at calvary chapel which focused on the sin of false idolatry. the group's regular leader was absent, but i rather liked the lecture-style of this week's leader. as we read passages from the book of isaiah-- which the study leader (is this the right word? it sounds odd) stated is the most quoted book in the new testament and is considered the most "linguistic" book of the bible-- i couldn't help but think of queequeg and his little wooden idol (from moby-dick, for the non-Melville enthusiasts). but the actuality of worshipping false idols is far more prevalent than burning incense and hair in a closet. according to isaiah 45:18-19, "he who created the heavens, he is God; he who fashioned and made the earth, he founded it; he did not create it to be empty, but formed it to be inhabited— he says: "I am the LORD, and there is no other. (19) I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness; I have not said to Jacob's descendants, 'Seek me in vain.'" so the evolutionist in me is a sinner, which i already knew. then, the study leader said:
"it makes no sense that someone would want a God who is impersonal, who may or may not care about you and what happens to you. so when you die, you just poof into the air and become one with the universe?"
wait, has he been reading my blog?
according to the bible, God created everything with a purpose and does not hide from his seekers. curious. so, i dedicated the remainder of my friday night to reading all 66 chapters of isaiah in order to learn more (and honestly, to scope out the so-called "linguistic" features... which i hope are isaiah's true words/meaning and not formed from the creative mind of the translator).
here are a few things i discovered from my self-motivated new journey into the depths of the crinkly pages of my red NIV bible:
- yes, i am a sinner, but i am in good company. God calls out "those who are heroes at drinking wine and champions at mixing drinks" (5:22).
- i am somewhat comforted that isaiah depicts God as an astute and insightful knower of hearts. God can see through the false praise and outwardly "christian" appearances and see to the blackness of humanity: "Woe to those who go to great depths to hide their plans from the LORD, who do their work in darkness and think, 'Who sees us? Who will know?' " (29:15). the best kept secret does not escape God. "what is dark in me illumine," wrote Milton (and which also serves as the inspiration for the title of my blog). so what are you doing to do about it?
- isaiah 53:10-11 caused me much anguish. the message of the chapter is that christians undergo much suffering for God but are rewarded: "Yet it was the LORD's will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the LORD makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand. (11) After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied". sooo... what if i don't want fertile loins and a long life and actually just throw my hands up and say "eff this" instead of wait around for my so-called prizes of children (gah) and universal satisfaction. none of these things really appeal to me... perhaps i could bargain and ask for a free pass to eat all the sugar and carbs i want and not gain a pound. sigh.
- and secondly, i have issues with someone accepting their lot in life as "a guilt offering" of God. here, child who was molested by your step-father, be comforted. here, student of columbine high school who was shot in the face, know you have a purpose. like, wtf.
sometimes i wish we all could just get along. sometimes i wish my brain and heart would work together to find peace. sometimes i wish my constant struggle for purpose and meaning would just be answered. sometimes i wish a bacom guacamole burger with a side of fries could cure not only a rumbling tummy but also a wandering mind.
as always, your thoughts are welcome.
28 October 2010
new: being nice
I grew up striving for excellence--in a practical way. I tried to dress nicely, develop my talents (music, writing, ranting), and make people around me proud of what I did. I quickly learned that the majority of society does not think this way, which is probably why I have been called a nerd and a bitch more times than "celebrity"
and "sex tape" have been said together.
perhaps my appreciation for excellence and my own neurotic tendency to decline compliments/unwarranted niceness explain why I rarely compliment others. perhaps I tire of dealing with rude people all day. perhaps I don't really believe people perpetuate positivity-- like my extra efforts would mean nothing and cause nothing. anyhow, today I set a goal to deliver 25 genuine compliments. it went a little something like this:
FAIL.
but I tried. really.
actually my day started out with a "hey, buddy!" from my coworker who is always friendly. then the first customer I rang up today said, "you have a beautiful conplexion. it doesn't even look real." guess she didn't notice my age spots. my mom, after enduring my pathetic complaints, asserted, "they are not age spots! they are...freckles you get when you get older." so... basically age spots. see, I told you I negate all compliments.
back to how I tried. I told a lady her name is pretty, another that he smelled nice, and another that they were great for being patient. I told an old man that his glasses made him look stately and sophisticated. I commented on a nail polish color, a necklace, and a purse.
so I tried.
then as I was typing a prescription for a woman's antidepressants, her husband asked me, "what's your last name?"
dude, really?
"ha, well why do you ask?"
"oh, my friend's sister works here. thought it might be you?"
doubtful my brother knows where I work, so I said, "well... it's probably not me."
"is your last name chu?"
my whole life has been filled with "heeey! are you related to the chongs who live in Minnesota?" and "what does moo gu gai pan stand for?" so this question did not phase me.
"no," I replied simply.
"well you look like a chu."
well, you, fatty white boy, look like a dumbass racist. why don't you ask me why I'm not tending a rice field in my silken kimono to buy fish for my kid sister who had her left leg blown off in a land mine? I mean, let's be logical here.
"oh. well. I'm not."
then I remembered I was supposed to be nice. so I smiled politely. and I said, "your kid is cute." it was hanging limply in its backpack on mom, a steady drool drip about to hit countertop. but cute. in a smelly baby thats leaking bodily fluids kind of way.
I said I tried.
and "sex tape" have been said together.
perhaps my appreciation for excellence and my own neurotic tendency to decline compliments/unwarranted niceness explain why I rarely compliment others. perhaps I tire of dealing with rude people all day. perhaps I don't really believe people perpetuate positivity-- like my extra efforts would mean nothing and cause nothing. anyhow, today I set a goal to deliver 25 genuine compliments. it went a little something like this:
FAIL.
but I tried. really.
actually my day started out with a "hey, buddy!" from my coworker who is always friendly. then the first customer I rang up today said, "you have a beautiful conplexion. it doesn't even look real." guess she didn't notice my age spots. my mom, after enduring my pathetic complaints, asserted, "they are not age spots! they are...freckles you get when you get older." so... basically age spots. see, I told you I negate all compliments.
back to how I tried. I told a lady her name is pretty, another that he smelled nice, and another that they were great for being patient. I told an old man that his glasses made him look stately and sophisticated. I commented on a nail polish color, a necklace, and a purse.
so I tried.
then as I was typing a prescription for a woman's antidepressants, her husband asked me, "what's your last name?"
dude, really?
"ha, well why do you ask?"
"oh, my friend's sister works here. thought it might be you?"
doubtful my brother knows where I work, so I said, "well... it's probably not me."
"is your last name chu?"
my whole life has been filled with "heeey! are you related to the chongs who live in Minnesota?" and "what does moo gu gai pan stand for?" so this question did not phase me.
"no," I replied simply.
"well you look like a chu."
well, you, fatty white boy, look like a dumbass racist. why don't you ask me why I'm not tending a rice field in my silken kimono to buy fish for my kid sister who had her left leg blown off in a land mine? I mean, let's be logical here.
"oh. well. I'm not."
then I remembered I was supposed to be nice. so I smiled politely. and I said, "your kid is cute." it was hanging limply in its backpack on mom, a steady drool drip about to hit countertop. but cute. in a smelly baby thats leaking bodily fluids kind of way.
I said I tried.
27 October 2010
new: Asian market
today, I visited the new Asian market in Boise. it's been open for about 2 months, according to the nice employee who patiently waited on me as I squealed over the Hello Kitty barrettes. I wandered through the market, observing the odd:
the delicious:
the awesome:
the questionable:
the uncanny:
the petite:
until I found exactly what I was looking for:
it's owned by a man named Ray and his wife, and they purchase the majority of their goods from Chinatown in San Francisco-- so rest assured that you are probably not supporting Vietnamese terrorism or pagan black market mobsters. Peace sign, and out.
the delicious:
the awesome:
the questionable:
the uncanny:
the petite:
until I found exactly what I was looking for:
it's owned by a man named Ray and his wife, and they purchase the majority of their goods from Chinatown in San Francisco-- so rest assured that you are probably not supporting Vietnamese terrorism or pagan black market mobsters. Peace sign, and out.
26 October 2010
new: appreciation
today's new was rather emotional for me. after some space from the pen, I decided to sum up my experience with a few sentences instead of a complex narrative through the often overly-complicated musings of my brain.
I wrote a letter to my high school English and creative writing teacher. two events sparked this: 1) I saw him while I was working and felt overwhelming shame/embarassment/guilt for abandoning my passions in life while being faced with the person who so inspired me to write... I cried under my blankey when I got home (when in doubt, always always blame ridiculous outpourings of emotion on birth control. always.), and 2) I saw a student of mine from my first semester teaching while--again--working and she said, "I liked your class," an unsolicited compliment revealed as if we were talking about them Broncos-- like, what, my composition clas was not a total failure or waste of time and, well, maybe I just projected my insecurities onto teaching the young and impressionable minds at my fingertips. her nonchalant comment made all those late nights at IHOP responding to unit projects completely worth it. and I thought that maybe my high school English teacher would appreciate a short note saying thanks for inspiring me to invest in an education that would shape my perspectives on how I observe and interpret and question the world around me.
after I sealed the note, I felt like tearing it up. what if he thinks I'm crazy? but I promise I will send it tomorrow. because, really, I am a little bit crazy. who isn't?
I wrote a letter to my high school English and creative writing teacher. two events sparked this: 1) I saw him while I was working and felt overwhelming shame/embarassment/guilt for abandoning my passions in life while being faced with the person who so inspired me to write... I cried under my blankey when I got home (when in doubt, always always blame ridiculous outpourings of emotion on birth control. always.), and 2) I saw a student of mine from my first semester teaching while--again--working and she said, "I liked your class," an unsolicited compliment revealed as if we were talking about them Broncos-- like, what, my composition clas was not a total failure or waste of time and, well, maybe I just projected my insecurities onto teaching the young and impressionable minds at my fingertips. her nonchalant comment made all those late nights at IHOP responding to unit projects completely worth it. and I thought that maybe my high school English teacher would appreciate a short note saying thanks for inspiring me to invest in an education that would shape my perspectives on how I observe and interpret and question the world around me.
after I sealed the note, I felt like tearing it up. what if he thinks I'm crazy? but I promise I will send it tomorrow. because, really, I am a little bit crazy. who isn't?
25 October 2010
new: combat training
when I joined golds gym, I was both intrigued and intimidated by the fitness classes offered there. so today, I decided to try one out: combat training. i figured it would be similar to my canceled turbo kick class, and the brochure pushed the high energy workout environment. so I showed up in the group exercise studio at 9:29 this morning, nervous but excited for my new workout.
four girls had already assumed their place on the wooden workout floor. a 7-months pregnant woman whose waist size is still probably smaller than the majority of american women was cuing up the stereo and affixing her headset. she chatted with the girl in front of me... just another monday...
my heart started racing with anticipation.
the music started. the beat echoed off the walls and reverberated in my quivering guts.
then I noticed that everyone was shifting their weight from side to side. guess I missed the memo to warmup. so I mimicked the movements, getting a feel for the music.
"forward shuffle!" boomed from the instructor's headset.
wait, what?
"and back!"
wait, what?
everyone--except me-- moved forward and back in unison. pretty sure I've seen wolf spiders pull this exact same move with me.
"and forward... now right hook!"
and in a swift movement of elbows and fists, I knew I was lost. so, Im standing there still bouncing back and forth and the instructor shouts, "and right punch! in the jaw... in the jaw... in the jaw! punch your attacker in the jaw!"
the girl next to me was staring angrily into the mirror punching the air like mike tyson and scowling like a woman scorned. I had a very strong desire to laugh. so I did. but then the instructor shouted, "now reach... and reach... and reach!" as the girls stretched their arms around like handcuffs... except at that moment, all I could think about was how they looked like sweaty earwigs trying to look tough with their reach around.
"and left hook! in the jaw... in the jaw... in the jaw... hit him square in the jaw."
my laughter progressed into shaking my head, so I gathered my water bottle and headed for the elliptical. there is something to be said for comfort. I caught glimpses of the class; the girls starting kicking and lunging in unison. obviously, I must have missed the BASIC combat training class for these choreographed self-defense moves.
I mean, maybe golds should teach how to defend myself against crazy ex-strippers from Texas who threaten me because her husband who I dated briefly in high school commented on my Facebook picture. because I'm pretty sure shuffle forward and left hook isn't going to work.
perhaps I already possess the necessary skills inherently present from my ninja ancestors.
and spider monkey... and spider monkey... and spider monkey!
and power ranger... and power ranger... and power ranger!
what I learned today: I am not cool enough for fitness classes. hi-ya.
four girls had already assumed their place on the wooden workout floor. a 7-months pregnant woman whose waist size is still probably smaller than the majority of american women was cuing up the stereo and affixing her headset. she chatted with the girl in front of me... just another monday...
my heart started racing with anticipation.
the music started. the beat echoed off the walls and reverberated in my quivering guts.
then I noticed that everyone was shifting their weight from side to side. guess I missed the memo to warmup. so I mimicked the movements, getting a feel for the music.
"forward shuffle!" boomed from the instructor's headset.
wait, what?
"and back!"
wait, what?
everyone--except me-- moved forward and back in unison. pretty sure I've seen wolf spiders pull this exact same move with me.
"and forward... now right hook!"
and in a swift movement of elbows and fists, I knew I was lost. so, Im standing there still bouncing back and forth and the instructor shouts, "and right punch! in the jaw... in the jaw... in the jaw! punch your attacker in the jaw!"
the girl next to me was staring angrily into the mirror punching the air like mike tyson and scowling like a woman scorned. I had a very strong desire to laugh. so I did. but then the instructor shouted, "now reach... and reach... and reach!" as the girls stretched their arms around like handcuffs... except at that moment, all I could think about was how they looked like sweaty earwigs trying to look tough with their reach around.
"and left hook! in the jaw... in the jaw... in the jaw... hit him square in the jaw."
my laughter progressed into shaking my head, so I gathered my water bottle and headed for the elliptical. there is something to be said for comfort. I caught glimpses of the class; the girls starting kicking and lunging in unison. obviously, I must have missed the BASIC combat training class for these choreographed self-defense moves.
I mean, maybe golds should teach how to defend myself against crazy ex-strippers from Texas who threaten me because her husband who I dated briefly in high school commented on my Facebook picture. because I'm pretty sure shuffle forward and left hook isn't going to work.
perhaps I already possess the necessary skills inherently present from my ninja ancestors.
and spider monkey... and spider monkey... and spider monkey!
and power ranger... and power ranger... and power ranger!
what I learned today: I am not cool enough for fitness classes. hi-ya.
24 October 2010
new: apple raisin cookies
tonight, I bought the ingredients for a new recipe from "everyday food" magazine (I bought a subscription for myself and mom last year for Christmas). I spent a little over $5 for everything-- plus two yogurts for tomorrow. I LOVE and so appreciate winco's bulk foods section.
cooking lesson moment #1: wow, I must not cook with nutmeg and raisins and etc much because I had to buy it all!
of course I had to treat myself to a caramel hot chocolate (quite a cup of happiness for 38 cents).
and then the baking started.
cooking lesson moment #2: I have absolutely no counter space in my kitchen. giant sad face with small tear.
cooking lesson moment #3: after all these years, I do not own a spatula. yes, that is a rice paddle. it worked just fine. high five to my people.
this is actually two "news" in one. I'm taking my cookies to work tomorrow to share with my coworkers. pretty sure everyone but me has brought in a handmade goodie... so eat up, kids.
cooking lesson moment #1: wow, I must not cook with nutmeg and raisins and etc much because I had to buy it all!
of course I had to treat myself to a caramel hot chocolate (quite a cup of happiness for 38 cents).
and then the baking started.
cooking lesson moment #2: I have absolutely no counter space in my kitchen. giant sad face with small tear.
cooking lesson moment #3: after all these years, I do not own a spatula. yes, that is a rice paddle. it worked just fine. high five to my people.
this is actually two "news" in one. I'm taking my cookies to work tomorrow to share with my coworkers. pretty sure everyone but me has brought in a handmade goodie... so eat up, kids.
23 October 2010
new: cinnaberry Asian
not quite a ginger but I'll settle for anime-worthy.
conversation:
mom: ok, stick your head under here.
[I place my hair under the faucet until all is wet.]
mom: why is it dripping?
me: because it's wet.
[mom rubs my hair with towel and then runs her fingers through my matted mess.]
mom: it's not very wet.
me: umm probably because YOU JUST DRIED IT.
mom: no, you didn't get it wet enough. let me do it.
and process repeats.
giving a plastic bag its fifteen minutes of fame.
red tint on my hair's infinite blackness. I smell like cinnamon.
conversation:
mom: ok, stick your head under here.
[I place my hair under the faucet until all is wet.]
mom: why is it dripping?
me: because it's wet.
[mom rubs my hair with towel and then runs her fingers through my matted mess.]
mom: it's not very wet.
me: umm probably because YOU JUST DRIED IT.
mom: no, you didn't get it wet enough. let me do it.
and process repeats.
giving a plastic bag its fifteen minutes of fame.
red tint on my hair's infinite blackness. I smell like cinnamon.