Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry asian man, books, bus, camera, camping, Canada, celebrity, Edward Scissorhands, feature film, fevers, French, friends, fun, funeral, garden party, grades, Harry Potter, idealism, Jack Kerouac, jacket, Johnny Depp, knight, love, Medieval Times, movies, nature, optimism, parents, Pirates of the Caribbean, schedule, sisters, stress, suburbs, summer, Taiwan, talent, The Perfect Storm, The Road, Tim Burton, trip
My brain feels like it’s being wrenched inside my skull. Why is the end of the school year such a rush?
I love my parents. Of course as I grow older I start disagreeing with them on many things, but whether that is just a phase of life or a permanent thing is yet to be seen. I say “old and bitter” because that’s what it seems like, sadly. Maybe when I was little I just wore rose-colored glasses, but I do think they were happier than they are now. As a young person I’m full of optimism and all of that, so I’m determined to be happy. Get back to me in fifteen years and we’ll see.
MUSIC – I get the feeling you just turned fifteen. I’m a bit ahead of you, but if you want to round almost an entire year, then yes, we are currently the same number. My sixteenth birthday’s in August. Holy god, I’m more than halfway to thirty.
Remember when I was going on about how I wanted to do everything in the world? It’s too much now, because I’m trying to cram all these experiences into the next few years. Starting a new club about making life an adventure in a school where everyone is mainly focused on academics is not very encouraging. This club thing is such a dilemna – because I feel like it’s too broad. I wonder if it will succeed. But then I get the feeling that if you keep worrying and bringing up possible obstacles you’ll never even start the project.
I’d love to take a camera and go on a trip by foot throughout the city with my friends, just taking pictures.
And right now I’d even just love to kick back in a bus and take a cross-country road trip.
I think what I need now is a trip somewhere away from the city, preferably with some buddies. But I doubt that’s happening – this is not a city of teenagers who spontaneously visit a forest together. Too many safety regulations. I’d like to see what a world without so many safety regulations would be like – where people could camp at the beach without worrying about security guards telling them to move because they’ll get swept away. And if they do get swept away, so be it. Makes for more dramatic stories. There’s a reason people avoid watching “The Perfect Storm”.
PS. I know that that would be anarchy, but allow me my idealism for this moment.
All this daydreaming has made me slack off in school too. My chem grade just slipped with this last test down to a B. That means I have to get an A on the comp to bring my grade back up, which means studying hard this week. I’m resisting so much right now – but I really don’t have much choice.
I’ve also decided that I’d love a garden lunch for my birthday – if not the entire party. The more I look at it the more my backyard, however small, looks beautiful. Maybe it’s because it’s the closest to free space I’m going to get from this computer. I’ve never spent so much time staring out the window…well, maybe at my old house. But all I saw there was a wall, a tree, my Indian neighbor’s house, and occasionally a bird. I remember I saw a bluejay once, and I wrote a poem about it. Or was it a squirrel?
I do love Cerritos, it’s full of people who are different from any you would find outside, and they really take care to keep this city looking nice. It’s partially a mix of all the old white people who like to wash their vintage cars thrice a day and the Asians who wouldn’t really mess with the city for no reason. It’s an ideal suburb – but that’s exactly what’s wrong with it too. I’m pretty sure Tim Burton lived in a place like this, because he retaliated with “Edward Scissorhands”.
Sometimes I think that talented people are so modest because they really think they’re nothing special, not because it’s an act. I completely understand their denial, because people rave about my writing and I don’t see what’s so special about it. The other day my church buddy told me she was really impressed with my “Angry Asian Man” screenplay – that she had been surprised, especially since I was a fifteen-year-old who hadn’t had much exposure to scripts. I had handed to her the worst draft of “Angry Asian Man” – the one I wrote in a day because all I had was the story to get down. I was embarassed of it and determined it would never see the light of day.
If you don’t think your work is much, sometimes it is better than you think. Especially with writing and such, if you grow up like that, you never think twice about it until you see everyone else’s work. There’s always doubt, is what someone told me. And it’s true but I hate it. Although, I do think it makes for better work.
I need a good jacket – not a hoody, although that would also be nice. Maybe I should return that $30 outfit from Forever 21 and invest in some good basics.
I’ve been reinspired to write. I’m currently in the middle of my first feature-length. I don’t want to spill much, but it includes celebrity, old love, and a funeral. Sound intriguing? Old love does not mean lost love, by the way, because lost implies that they still wanted it to go on. I’m hoping that in the flashbacks the hazy polaroid-reminiscent small town feel will be captured. I’m excited for this one and I really want the script to turn out well. Who doesn’t want their screenplay to turn out well, but this one in particular. It could just be the excitement of beginning a new story. We’ll see.
I’ve also been wanting to read The Road by Jack Kerouac. Yes, yet again inspired by Johnny Depp – but it’s my own interest now. It has to be if I’m to attempt such a fat book. I haven’t read anything that thick since Harry Potter. I don’t know how I’m going to do all this though – there are only so many hours in the day, and I’m planning to get my sleeping schedule ready for next year. That means bed ideally by 9 PM and up at 6:30 AM. I have an extra class next year in the morning and I’m not looking forward to the stress of next year. Can I handle a club on top of that, and possibly work?
Who wants to go camping in my backyard? I have such summerlust right now. I hope that’s not a double entendre. Goodness, tomorrow is crazy Tuesday. Thank God. I need the break.
So, summer, now my favorite time of year. Where are you?
What are your plans? I’m hoping to plunk down with some good books and movies, go out frolicking with buddies, and make some good stuff.
Looking at some of my old Word files, it still amazes me how far I’ve come from full-on PotC fan. Yeah, I still usually know Johnny Depp’s whereabouts, but I can stand on my own now, if that makes sense. If you were to pull PotC out from under me, I wouldn’t fall over. Huzzah.
I feel like going on and on. Permit me, s’il vous plait.
That will never be a jumble of words that mean “please” anymore. It will forever be “if it pleases you (polite)”. I love French class and I hope Madame gets better.
I’d love to go rollerblading at this time of day, when it’s pitch black outside. I’d have flashing neon lights on my rollerblades and annoy the heck out of everyone like the fatteh Mexican on the dune buggy who revs by my house twice within five minutes. I wonder if I’ve lost readers because of the replacement of sarcasm by wishful thinking. I wonder if I ever had readers to begin with. Fatteh lurkers. Can’t say anything though, I am one.
Whell. My sister went to Medievel Times today. Good for her, that she went and devoured chicken like a fatteh while watching fake knights prance about below. Like in our time, some of her classmates fell in love with the knight. I think the same colored one too. I must confess, I did secretly scrutinize him as well, but he fell far short of my liking. Huzzah, because there’s no use for an eleven-year-old lusting after some old man who prances about in a green tunic on a horse who spends most of its time behind a glass window.
And both of them have fevers, which means double hand-washing for me. Hopefully they recover soon. I think Jocelyn’s okay now. When did I start referring to them by name instead of my sister and “my younger younger sister”? I wish I had somewhere to go this summer, like back to Taiwan or Canada. I say back because even though I wasn’t born there it’s still a little bit like home. I wonder if my children will feel the same?
That’s it for tonight. I’ll keep on daydreaming but I’ll keep it to myself for the rest of the night. Huzzah, see you later alligator.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry asian man, argument, fun, music, pigeons, SAT, school, summer
MUSIC: What do you call little kids who sit down at a piano and start playing tunes that they’ve heard, without taking lessons? Just curious, because it’s a common scenario.
I don’t think that I’ve stopped being good at violin, just that something was lost during those four years. I used that because it’s really been the biggest thing that’s happened to me. Pathetic, but I think we should put the topic to rest, or it’s going to turn into an Internet showdown, and I hate those things.
As to your questions, I just got them a couple days ago. “Out in the open” means I’m pretty honest with my dad that I have a blog, rather than alluding to it. Yes, that’s my name. Yes, I’m Asian. Yes, I’m probably the same age as you. And yes – just kidding. No. Because if you were a 55 year-old creepy man and I were the same age as you I’d be a 55 year-old creepy man.
We now return to our usual broadcast.
I have never been so excited for summer, I’ve usually been indifferent to it. That’s a shame, because I only have two really free summers left, and this is one of them. There’s so much I’ve suddenly realized I want to do and what with SATs and such taking up my summers, that’s a bummer. Huzzah, I’ve rhymed.
Still, school’s almost over and we’ll have fun. I’d still love to make “Angry Asian Man”. Twould be fun and an awesome experience.
There are pigeons in our roof and their eggs just hatched. The sounds above our heads are driving us crazy, especially my dad. I could here the babies going “EEEEH EEEEEHHHH EEEEEEEHHH” And now there are these claw sounds like their learning to walk or something. It’s really annoying, and really, just think of all the germs.
I’m going to cut this post short so I can start working on what will hopefully be a weekly feature.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: anger, angry asian man, banquet, big girl, blog, chinese, cuisine, cultural differences, Dr. Frank, driving, Final Cut Pro, fun, Ghost Town, girls, happiness, ignorance, King Kong, LA, languages, laptop, life, Lyle the Crocodile, mid-life crisis, music, old movie posters, PC, prodigy, record, Ricky Gervaise, stop-motion, the Cowardly Lion, The Wizard of Oz, violin
I won’t hide the fact that as I read MUSIC’s comment my heart rate increased dramatically and I had to take a few deep breaths. I actually tried to find my happy place, an activity I believed only existed in mediocre romantic comedies. The good news is, I found it.
I will say that the point of sharing that part of my past wasn’t for telling the world I was a really good violin player. The heart of that post, in my opinion, is the part about how no one is willing to believe that great things are happening around them. And not just in my case.
I do realize how extreme the word “prodigy” is. I use it lightly, as I do fatteh, ugly, and poop. As I was typing, I paused before putting that down – but I get slightly emotional when I think about violin – as pathetic as that sounds, and decided to go through with it anyway.
It’s gotten better, though. Before I thought that I had pretty much wasted my life – bear with my former self here – because I had been given a talent and, well you know the story. I don’t pretend that I’m the only one in this situation, or the only one given musical ability. But the reason for my premature mid-life crisis was that I didn’t really have any other purpose in life – I was still looking for things. If you’ve been following for the past month or so, you’ll know I’ve found something, if not it.
That still didn’t give my friends the right to roll their eyes at my then mid-life crisis. When you’re watching from the outside everything is belittled. Knowing that, I try to see things from the bereaved person’s perspective – maintaining a balance, so to speak. And it doesn’t give them the right to crack jokes about my behavior then either. What someone did in the past is laced with ignorance – because hindsight and all that. They may know they were stupid, but – well, there’s just something very rude about making fun of it.
Back to the happy. We – HOLY GOD IS THAT “BIG GIRL” ON THE TV NO DONT CHANGE THE MUSIC DAMMIT
A human stop-motion is in the works for this summer, and it’s a lot more plausible than “Angry Asian Man” and other stop-motion ideas I’ve had. Once I talk to my buddy, we’ll see if “Angry Asian Man” is happening this summer. I’m pretty sure of the human stop-motion though. It’s for a teenage cast, and it doesn’t take itself as seriously as “Angry Asian Man”.
We’ll be asking people to be in it starting Monday.
EDIT: We left the house – another false start for the San Diego Zoo.
Anyway, it’s pretty much out in the open that I have a blog now. I hope Fatherman isn’t looking for it. He asked me what was on my blog and presented the story of a Taiwanese girl whose blog won awards for its photos of Taiwanese farmers.
My blog – doesn’t have a point. I don’t really want to have a point, but I’d like for it to be more than just my day-t0-day events. Which is why I try to share my thoughts rather than what happens to me that day. Would you rather it have a point or to go on like this…I don’t know, myself. I think I’d feel restricted if I could only talk about food, or furniture.
Although this is my only record of my life, and for posterity there are some mundane things I can’t leave out.
Last night was the Journalism internship banquet. Being with a group of girls and just letting go, having fun – that was really great. I sort of liked the relative anonymity. They know nothing of my old personality, so I could just start over and be a real girl. Sounds weird, but I’m rather reserved about letting my feminine side shine through. It’s a stigma, I think, that a lot of little girls have to deal with. Because every tells them not to be such a girly girl and suck it up.
Permit me to rant a little here – I just finished watching “Ghost Town”, and while overall an ordinary movie, meaning it wasn’t extraordinary, there was just one part that was a bit unbearable for me to watch. Don’t tell me it’s just a joke, or that I’m overreacting. The part where Ricky Gervais makes fun of the Chinese because we have funny names. He tries to justify it by saying it’s not about our faces, but it still reeks of ignorance. Everyone has different languages, and we should respect that by recognizing that things may sound funny – but it means something else, and to a large group of people it makes perfect sense. I’m not usually one to nitpick about racism or whatever. For the most part, I ignore racist jokes because it’s really not worth my time. And I don’t know why this time it mattered, it just really bothered me. I was squirming in my seat, disgusted.
DR. FRANK IS ON TV MIYA LOOK NOW LOOK NOW
I loathe Chinese buffets. And I am only slightly annoyed at the people who go there for the orange chicken and fortune cookies only. Like the couple who exchanged the following conversation today:
Girl: I saw people eating crab legs!
Boy: Ugh.
Thank you, American couple. Thank you for that enlightening insight. I really don’t know what to say to that. I can’t call it ignorance, because then I wouldn’t be any better than Ricky Gervais in “Ghost Town”. I wanted to pick up a crab leg and tear into before their faces, saying, “Mmmm. Yummy.” But sometimes I think that Western cuisine, while good to eat, really pales in comparison to Eastern cuisine. When I want something complicated and a mix of tastes in my mouth, I go for Asian food. When I want just plain good, I go for steak and mashed potatoes.
Today I realized I wouldn’t mind having an old movie poster in my room. A classic would be preferred, just for their aesthetic. I saw a couple today in K-Mart, but only King Kong, which was cool to look at but terrifying, and The Wizard of Oz, which I was terrified of as a child. The Cowardly Lion still strikes fear into my heart. I once made my family change hotel rooms at MGM because there was a “Wizard of Oz” theme going on.
I don’t really have much more to say at the moment. I haven’t been following my favorite blogs lately because I don’t want to risk letting another virus loose on my dad’s laptop. I really want a laptop of my own. Then again, I really want to learn Final Cut Pro – it’s the industry standard – but my dad insists on getting a PC first.
As my activities get more and more hectic, I realize the need for the ability to drive. I need it now – or my dad’s never going to get a moment of rest. But I’m going to miss driving an hour with him to LA every week – and falling asleep for half the drive.
Whell then. How many times have I ended a post awkwardly? Almost every time. Huzzah, goodbye. See you later, Alligator. I want to read Lyle the Crocodile.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: 50's housewife, A Chair for My Mother, actor, amazing, angry asian man, APHG, art, banquet, bees, books, classical music, cool, culture shock, Danny Boyle, director, drama, dressing room, Everyday Lessons, film festival, fish, Forever 21, French, friends, fun, happiness, independent movie, India, interpretive dance, interview, ironing, Keira Knightley, life, magazine, magical, Miya, msn, Nobu, Outsourced, people, personal stories, Phineas and Ferb, Reading Rainbow, shopping, split personality, stick up ass, stop-motion, stuck up, The Duchess, The World is Flat, ugly, ugly flower prints, Vera B. Williams, William Turner, yoga
Whilst shopping with Miya and Nobu Saturday – fun but we got almost nothing done regarding our AP Human project – I suddenly felt like listing things that make me happy on my blog. I know, I’ve done this before, but that list was definitely incomplete. Here are a few more things that have recently made me happy.
1. Ironing. Goodness this is one thing that makes me want to become a 50’s housewife, women’s rights or not. Actually, if I actually think that statement through there is something seriously wrong with it. Ironing caters to my OCD and my love of spraying water with my fingers.
2. Ugly flower prints. I saw plenty of these at Forever 21, and it was while I gazed at Miya punching a mannequin’s ugly flower-print skirt-covered plastic behind when I realized where my desire for an ugly floral armchair comes from. When I was little I read a picture book about a girl whose family goes shopping for a new armchair. They finally settle on this red rose-patterned ugly thing, and her mother loves it. I think they were Mexican. Does anyone recognize this?
Speaking of books that have escaped my memory, has anyone read a book about bees? Not The Secret Life of Bees, but in this book the bees are the characters, like they have conversations and stuff. I read it after waking up from a nasty nightmare.
Oh! I googled it. It’s called A Chair for My Mother by Vera B. Williams. I remember always thinking, “God. Is that Vera B. Williams again? She writes every picture book from ‘Reading Rainbow’”.
Dang, there are all these books I have forgotten.
3. Trying on the ugliest clothes in the store for fun. Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures. Most people go to Windsor with their friends and try on the most elaborate, beautiful dresses. I tried on a grayish fish-smelling maxi dress, strapless blue gingham dress, zebra-print electric blue swim shorts, a denim jumper, and a rainbow plaid skirt. Good god.
4. Magazines. When a magazine page is made well, I actually get excited to read it.
5. Interpretive dances set to classical music. It makes for a very humorous scene, at the very least. It’s also a great workout.
6. Pretending you’re going to wake up early tomorrow and do yoga. Makes one feel accomplished. Gives one the feeling of being hip. You don’t say…
7. Meeting someone who is just amazing. Not a guy, but when you meet a new friend or when you look at your friends and realize they are amazing people, it’s makes you happy and want to hang out with them even more.
Gosh, these explanations are getting shorter and shorter. I’ll just stop here since I’m grasping for ideas now. Let’s skip ahead to tonight’s French Club Banquet. I had some fun, but some stuff happened that gave me things to complain about here.
One thing that irks me about some people is their split personalities. They are, in a sense, bipolar. Not actually, but some days they’re your best friend and others they are just real fattehs. Please, I’d rather you make up your mind.
We were sitting at the same table as KarateTetherballGirl and eventually we became too uncool for her attention. And she turned to the one person who would happily gossip with her about her “drama-filled” life. She seemed really thrilled to have drama in her life. Really thrilled, because she said so herself in a very awe-filled voice.
One thing I couldn’t understand was how talking about everyone you know is more fun than making gay “Twilight” references and laughing about forgetting your parent’s anniversaries.
Another thing that irks me is when people have sticks up their asses. There are three types of stickuptheirass people. The first is like William Turner, and I’ve yet to meet another like him. Since he’s fictional I never really get annoyed at him. Yeah, I yell at the screen but I’m never annoyed from the gut. I don’t know if this makes sense. The next kind is like – what was her pseudonym – my French class partner. Where they never really learned to let go and have fun. And they’re hesitant but sometimes you can have a lot of fun saying the most ridiculous things around them. The last kind is like KarateTetherballGirl. The kind who goes through life doing a lot of looking at people and then turning back to their buddy and saying, “Anyway…” or “Okay…”
The ones who savor being “the only sane ones at the table”. The ones who wouldn’t have fun if you dropped them in a field with their friends.
I take that back. They’d have fun sitting in the corner and talking about the guys at school. And no one would stop them from being put in the corner.
She was mad because one of her friends couldn’t make it to the banquet. Get over it and have fun with the people who are there, even if you don’t know them. Why not get to know them?
Enough bitterness. I had fun nonetheless. That rhymes a little bit. The food was delicious and just the right amount, so I’m content.
For MUSIC, here’s your Angry Asian Man update. It’s in limbo right now. In my head, being contemplated every day. If it doesn’t work out, I’m also planning a stop-motion. 
If it’s not made this summer, it will be made next year. Chances are it’s this summer.
Last night I watched “Outsourced”, which was like The World is Flat transcribed into dialogue while stuff happens to a white guy in India to demonstrate culture shock. It was a very obvious independent movie. I’m guessing it’s a debut film.
I also saw “The Duchess”, on which I have no thoughts except that I read the script during Oscar season and there’s a reason I don’t like watching movies with my mom sometimes. “Yuck! Is this movie for children? Yuck! Don’t look! You’re peeking!” Yes, Mother, because I like watching Keira Knightley’s bony back twist about in candlelight. Whatever you believe about whether she’s anorexic or not, one cannot deny the bonyness of her back.
Ooh. I just read this on MSN. “Everyday Lessons”.
“Watch all the movies by one actor or director
If you love movies, have your own personal film festival. Rent all the movies created by one director or about a place or that showcases one actress you love. Become an expert on the things you love.”
I guess I’m on my way to enjoying my life.
The creators of “Phineas and Ferb” said this:
“One thing I’d love to teach children is the fact that there is no right or wrong way to draw. Draw what makes you happy and never worry about somebody saying, ‘Oh, that isn’t a good drawing.’ There are so many, infinite drawing styles out there. Your work doesn’t have to look like it’s straight out of a comic book or straight out of an art book. As long as you’re expressing yourself and you’re getting a reaction, then that’s good.”
My Danny Boyle drawings are good. Hahaha.
I’d love to go interview everyone in the world right now. I’m sure everyone’s got something interesting to say. I used to hate personal stories because I thought they weren’t as magical as fiction. What a fatteh.
Whell then. Sayonara, Japanese goodbye. My sisters’ fish count is down to six.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry asian man, birthday, careers, children's book, conference, Ernest, idea, ironing, La Poo Poo, magazine, memories, movies, novel, projects, public speaking, publisher, sabbatical, screenplay, writing
Alright, disgruntled reader. Here are the answers to your questions. Yes, Ernest is doing well. He has taken a sabbatical to camp, where is he isn’t allowed to bring electronics. It was a surprise from La Poo Poo. All together now, “Awwwwwww.” Secondly, you haven’t heard much about “Angry Asian Man” because not much has been going on. I’m waiting to see what kind of production this is going to end up being, because depending on whether some important people help or not it will either be amateurish or only somewhat amateurish. As for your birthday, huzzah! Happy Birthday!
Once more, with gusto.
Aww, look at little Suzy and Jack. And look at their cake that looks like it’s made of Hawaiian leis. Don’t they look so happy? Oh no, little Bobby is playing with fire! See how the girls admire him so because he’s dangerous. What a lovely scene. So even if no one did much at your real birthday, now little Suzy, Jack, Bobby and friends are forever celebrating your birthday online. They’ll never stop.
On top of that, MUSIC, I have posted here today for you, and now must continue to churn out substance for this post because this is way too short. Did you enjoy my deep/happy essay yesterday? I hadn’t realized it was so long.
I apologize if I sound confrontational, it comes with the face.
I’m putting off any development on any projects for the summer, aside from writing. I haven’t been writing for several days, but I’m starting again today with an old idea I had about robots and Mexican housecleaners. It doesn’t mean I’ve neglected other projects, I jump around from day to day depending on my mood. Idea-making is actually very prolific right now for me, I have about 50 ideas recorded.
Is everyone enjoying the recent string of happily maturing Grapes posts? That sounded like a tutorial on how to make wine.
Have I mentioned how much I love ironing? Miya, on our trailer I call ironing duties. It is a serious art.
As for writing, I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, and I’m not using it as a white person phrase tossed in for effect. Aside from preschool memories, which are dominated by naptime and walking to my classroom, and before preschool, I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t writing. I did it for fun, which I thought was natural, but it turns out it’s not. Oops. Is it too conceited to say that sometimes I amaze myself? What I mean by this is that to see fifteen years, and to see all my experiences and surroundings culminate into a complex person is a marvel in itself. And if I ever got to know anyone as well as I know myself, I’d be wowed too.
Actually, before movies came along and swept me off my feet, I sometimes imagined I would become a writer. But there was that image of a person locked up alone in the attic, typing laboriously. It did not appeal to me, in addition to the fact that one does not earn a lot of money as a writer, generally. Look what I’m going after now – an even higher chance of starving.
So yes, it is a life goal of mine to publish a novel, and a children’s book. I used to want to be the youngest published novelist. Reading my old stuff, I really overestimated myself. I guess I never feel quite secure as a writer, because my ideas are always convoluted. With screenplays I can visualize the action and the angles, and my plots are usually simple themes I’d like to explore that I expand on as I write.
I’ve never completely abandoned writing though. Like my screenplays, I go back and randomly add to whatever I feel like, albeit not as often as screenplays. Maybe there’s excitement in thinking that I’ll soon be able to create this into live situations. With a book you send it into the publisher and you wait. With movies you can take the fate of your script into your own hands.
I’ve been thinking about how fun being a magazine editor would be. Maybe I’ll make one issue for fun. In fact, I’m writing the letter from the editor right now - it helps to plan out the issue. I know this isn’t how the real magazines do it, but whatever.
Tomorrow is the all-day conference for the career development class. I can’t wait, but the butterflies are churning just a little bit. We’ll get to talk about our careers, which is very exciting, because as you may have gathered I love talking about filmmaking. Then again, what public speaking event is complete without some nervousness?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: American Revolution, ancestor, angry asian man, Asian, birth order, dog, friends, happiness, Johnny Depp, MUN, only children, resentment, school, Simple Plan, speech, Star Trek, stinky, white people
At the behest of my readers, “Angry Asian Man” updates will be continued. Although thanks to my teachers, who semi-lounge all year and cram three chapters in the last two weeks of school, there won’t be many of them. I’ve been on a writing hiatus because of school and I can’t wait for summer. Frankly, however, I’ll probably end up surfing the Internet all season and wondering where my time went when BAM junior year hits me in the nose and ruins my precious family heirloom.
I guess the changes I came up with in my state of fluffy-brain and foggy vision are pretty odd. I cringe just thinking about all the sunshine and butterflies in that post. That’s not to say I don’t still believe what I wrote.
Yesterday and today I ran into two of our old gang. God that sounds so white. No offense, white people. In fact, I represented you on Friday during International Day. And if anyone is familiar with our school, it is that white people need representation. We have many Asian children who think they are very white. Stop looking at me.
White people talk differently than Asian Americans. Like “our old gang”. How eloquent, as opposed to what I would say, “my old group of friends.” Stereotypical much, fatteh.
At any rate, twas a poopy group of friends and we have since kablammed. I like sound effects today. Kablammed meaning split up. And thank god, because when I was with them my life was like a bad preteen novel that pretends to know what being a teenager is like. Honestly it’s not the teenagers with the hormones it’s the preteens, when you don’t know much better. Teenagers don’t know much better either but it’s more than preteens. After all, what right minded teenager would blast “Shut Up” by Simple Plan really loud so that their mother could get the message?
I only know one person my age who has even the tiniest appreciation for Simple Plan, and she has a smelly dog and a foggy fish tank. The fish tank doesn’t bother me, because I can’t smell it. And it doesn’t eat my food. And it doesn’t snore during movies, and it doesn’t roll around the floor or tackle me out of nowhere. Most of all, its stench doesn’t sneak into my mouth when I’m pulling an all-nighter hundreds of feet away from it.
Out of the four of us, and we have moved away from the topic of the smelly dog, only two remain at my school. And although the one that remains still pleasantly annoys me with her stubborn ignorance, I am a fairly happy camper. There, another white person phrase. Does spice up the writing though, doesn’t it? Although I shouldn’t be one to talk, because I say fatteh and poop.
Saturday was the MUN conference at our school and old buddy number one was there. I snuck a glance at her feet in the poomps, excuse me, pumps, and they still look like tree bark. Sound bitter? Yes, I was. But as she walked across the floor I felt peace in my heart. God, I should stop taking my happy pills. I did not feel the urge to go up to her and rant about all the horror she’s ever done me from third to eighth grade. I did feel the urge to go and share my life plan with her, but I’d like to do that to everyone. It’s my favorite topic, what I plan to do, and that’s unfortunate for my sister, because she’s at the age when she doesn’t know at all and hates it when people ask her. I love to ask, because that leads to a discussion, and oh joy what fun blazooie.
Then real-fatteh said, “I like her.” And I immediately replied, “I don’t.” But I didn’t even mean it, I was in fact feeling nothing at the moment. It was left over from years of resenting her. Later she said hi to me and I just said hi back, as if I were trying to give away free bags of promotional flyers at a fair. Which I did, a couple weeks ago. That “hi” where your voice lights up and your eyes brighten and you smile like a flight attendant. Not meant to be artificial but not meant to be sincere either. It’s like, “I don’t know you but I wouldn’t mind getting to know you.”
But I’m glad that finally, I can see her and not get that feeling of “one day I will be famous and then you will see!” It just shows that I’ve got my priorities straight, and my motivations for wanting to be a filmmaker. The difference, I think, between my desire to be a filmmaker and my desire to be an actress is that the former is constant and the latter is sometimes only awakened when I’m acting, or when I read an interview with someone in a Johnny Depp movie and they describe how cool it is to work with him. Hopefully taking Theater Lab will help me figure that out.
Today at Wal-Mart I ran into the other one that moved to Houston, the one that introduced me to curse words and not wearing underwear. The latter I did not imitate, thank god. For the sake of all those who might accidentally have seen something. With this old buddy I never hated too much, except when I was her buddy.
It’s good that she introduced me to all those bad words, though, because having been her friend I’m a lot more lenient now. It’s contributed to my whatever, it’s your business attitude. Otherwise I would be screaming “Scandalous!” right and left, and meaning it.
After reading the fifty hundredth article on birth order, I’d just like to point out that not although some only children are loyal and lonely and nice and wonderful, I have only met two that were nice. Almost every person who has ever irritated me to no end was an only child. I think that siblings enhance imagination and creativity, rather than, as the article says, criticize and take away from it. When I think about having kids, and yes, it does happen, I’m a little bit afraid of having an only child. Parents mean well but it doesn’t always turn out as they expect. Then again, childbirth also scares the crap out of me so having a sucky kid versus tearing your vajayjay (LOOOOLLL) multiple times. Scandalous.
Look what I just dug up.
“Johnny Depp
No wonder heartthrob Depp has found himself called to the big-screen role of rebellious Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean—his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather William Depp was an early rebel as well, fighting against the British during the American Revolution.”
That’s not to say it’s true, because the author looked them all up on ancestry.com. Shame about his name, though. He’s welcome to the barbecue, nonetheless.
I would also like to announce that I can make the Star Trek sign now. But only with my left hand, and with some help at that. Woe is me.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: aboriginal, actor, angry asian man, AP, Are You There God? It's Me Margaret, Arizona Dream, Big Girl (You Are Beautiful), Big Girls, birthday, bonding, Cary Grant, Chiranjeevi, couple, deep, director, Ernest, fangirls, flirt, foster children, Hunk-O-Rama Roundup, Indian, James bond, John Cena, John Dillinger, Johnny Depp, Lane Bryant, love, mall, Mika, Miya, mother, passion, perspective, picture, Public Enemies, religion, script, stealthygrapes, Sushi, Taiwan, twitter, ugly, wolf-whistle, yahoo
I forgot to mention that yesterday I was herded into an aboriginal Taiwanese outfit and was wolf-whistled at. The last time I was wolf-whistled, as I’ve recounted many-a-time because it is so rare an occurrence, was in the middle of a lake by three ugly Mexicans. Not to say all Mexicans are ugly, but these three would have been ugly even if they were White, Chinese, or Polynesian.
Also, that one of the foster/abused children may have been flirting with me but I wouldn’t know for sure because that part of my brain has been hibernating since birth. I hope to god he wasn’t.
Today I called another director – this one wasn’t in the schedule, but I called her anyway in NY, and it went awkwardly well. Then she asked me what my favorite movie was and I said, “Arizona Dream”.
I expected the usual, “Oh…” meaning, “I’ve never seen that.”
But goodness she said, “Oh yeah!” The yeah makes all the difference. Turns out it used to be one of her favorite movies too. Huzzah, I have found the one other person in the world who has seen “Arizona Dream” and recognized it for the genius it is. Johnny Depp fangirls don’t count.
Then later she said, “…you have a unique perspective on things, which you must because you like ‘Arizona Dream’.” I must, I must, I must increase my bust. Shut up, Margaret. No one cares about you. Go put on a pad.
She also said that “Angry Asian Man” sounded pretty good. Huzzah, it’s not as odd as I thought it would be.
Dr. Frank did not show up. I live to see another day.
I went to the mall with my mother, who lovingly ended the mother-daughter bonding with “Your face is ugly, like Mulan’s.” Mom, you are so bipolar sometimes. Of course, you (readers, not my mom) would know this if you followed the play-by-play on my twitter. What’s this? Another chance to blatantly advertise my twittar? Why yes, it is @stealthygrapes.
Follow me and we will become a religion. I only need five more people.
What is important about the mall is that I waited for my mother in Lane Bryant, a store which no longer contains cushy chairs to sit in while you wait for the Big Girl in your family to decide whether or not they want to buy clothing. Big girls are sensitive and undecisive, so they take a long time and usually end up not buying anything at all. I stood in the middle of the store on my blackberry typing up parts of a script while an old woman sat on a bra display and stared at me. Huzzah. They played this song that celebrated larger women, and I wanted to march up to the counter and ask if they’d ever heard of “Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)”. I even contemplated hooking up my blackberry to the speaker system and playing it from there.
I wonder what old people think when I whip out my blackberry. “What a nice gir-oh, she’s just like the rest of them pesky teenagers, always on their darn technology. Probably doesn’t even eat dinner with her family.”
Ooh, what’s this on Yahoo? Hunk-O-Rama Roundup. Whell. Johnny Depp better be in this. John Cena? Oh yesh, he was in that movie where he pulled a girl out of a building, it exploded on him, and he lived. Poop.
#8. kafjksfjkljweklfjew. They picked a bad picture too. Who picks pictures for these things? They’re always horrible pictures of Johnny Depp, or the one where he’s on a stool with his fedora smiling slightly creepishly at you.
“Deep down, we have a sneaking suspicion that Depp’s kind of like Cary Grant — he just plays variations of himself over and over. Still, we get suckered for his aloof charm every time. He’ll pull the wool over our eyes again as outlaw John Dillinger in “Public Enemies“.
Although, it may be true.
Why have I returned to blogging about Johnny Depp again? This is bad. I should go get Ernest ready for his birthday.
I saw an Indian couple today, actually acting like they were in love. Which is rare, but it made me think of Sushi and Chiranjeevi, if they had lasted. Of course, I still can’t decide between Sushiranjeevi and Sushi/James Bond.
Wow, now I’m going to go deep and say that if I were in Sushi’s position it would be a difficult choice. She obviously loves Chiranjeevi a lot, and they’re very passionate about each other, but James Bond loves her so much too – he’d do anything for her.
Oh Sushi. You are pretty odd.
Miya, I need mine script. And we also need to start actor hunting – which I’m intimidated by but is necessary for a good movie.
Huzzah huzzah huzzah. Everyone have a good day and AP week.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: angry asian man, ass, birthday, comment, directing, Ernest, failure, film, Gandhi, happy, inspiration, Meryl Streep, oprah, party, PMS, post, preproduction, script, sixth grade, spam, The Devil Wears Prada
I was going to be a butt and not post, but that’s when I received the awesome, heart-felt comment in my inbox. If it wasn’t heart-felt, then I am a real poop, but I won’t care. It’s more about how things affect you than how they were intended.
At this rate, I’ll become Gandhi and spend my whole life spewing quotable inspiration while sitting on a bamboo mat and not eating. Although starving myself would not help my goal to become Oprah.
It is pretty sad that I’ve had to approve spam comments in the past to keep myself happy, but that only makes the one real comment even more awesome. Much more awesome – sorry, I couldn’t control myself.
Thanks so much, MUSICizmyLIFE.
I have just been surrounded in a bubble of happiness. Expect the monthly broadcast of grouchy to return in a few weeks. That’s being a woman for you.
Miya – I dare you not to say anything about that last sentence.
Ernest’s birthday is coming up, and yes, I am really planning a party for my paper bag. We were thinking a pool party. Don’t laugh, it’s his lifelong dream.
Also, I believe we are now in preproduction of my angry asian man script. I’ve found that the best way to pitch this story is by saying that it’s about first impressions rather than an angry asian man. Sounds much more poetic. I’m so excited, and determined not to make this like my old sixth grade attempts at making movies. Of course, that was sixth grade, and I was more excited about acting like a film set than making the film. And yes, this statement could come back and kick me in the ass. It’s not a hard target.
That is all, as Meryl Streep said in “The Devil Wears Prada”. Huzzah.
