The Comfy Corner

Facebook. Is it really changing our lives? You can say that we don't know how to communicate anymore. You can say that friendships don't mean as much anymore. You can even say that Facebook is making us badder at grammer. But I say that I've been changed for the better. Because I knew you, Facebook, I have been changed for good. I met a French guy at a party once who called Facebook "Book Face." Chris found this hilarious and he wanted to make a note of it in his BlackBerry but, in his drunken stupor, put it in as "Booj Face." That story is just the first example of many in which our lives have been changed by the "Booj Face."

1) We use the term stalker in our everyday speech, a term that used to hold so much dark, heavy connotations has now turned into "Hey, I heard you went shopping yesterday!" "OMG! Stalker!"

2) We no longer care whether or not pictures are on our camera as long as they are on somebody's camera because we know it'll be on Facebook by the end of the day. "Hey lemme borrow your camera for a sec." As if you actually wanted make out pictures of Bill and Sarah on your camera.

3) The word "tag" is probably used 1,000,000 more times a day than it was before Facebook. Before, it was only used on the school play ground and at yard sales. Now it's used in the bar, at parties, practically EVERYWHERE! "Lol, do NOT tag me in that. I will absolutely kill you."

4) One of the best parts of having a birthday is getting a million messages on your profile. It's like you are Facebook queen or king for the day "78 Notifications" :)

5) The word poke now has weird connotations. People now say things like "I'd totally tap that. haha. jk jk. I wouldn't even poke it on Facebook."

So, for all of my rabid fans out there, I have decided to create this post to contrast "Things I Hate" which is currently the most viewed post on my blog! Hopefully this one will jump right up there with it, because we need more love in this world than hate, right?

1) Lists - Clearly. If it weren't for lists I would feel as if my entire world was a random floating mess of tasks and items. I'd feel like the Earth felt during Pangaea. Lists are clean, easy to grasp, they can be long or short, and they can cover a variety of subjects (Is he still talking about lists? hehe.)

2) Quarters- When it comes to obtaining quarters I am a lot like the hooker/homeless woman on the street that makes up stories about her kids being in the hospital and not having enough change for the bus. I adore quarters because when I have an abundance of quarters I can do laundry, and when I do laundry I have fresh smelling clothes, and when I have fresh smelling clothes I have more friends, and when I have more friends I'm more successful in life. So when I have more quarters, I'm more successful in life.

3) Meters With Time Left- It's like landing on the free parking space in Monopoly and getting all the money in the pot. Couldn't be a better feeling.

4) Getting Notifications After I Put Up Photos or Controversial Statuses- I feel as though I'm sparking a mini-drama of my own and it makes me feel more popular (not that I could be more popular than I already am. Girl-honey, please).

5) Long Email Chains- This is kind of a sick fascination. I suppose it goes hand in hand with lists in a way because I love how Gmail organizes email chains. It is so neat and organized! I love things that make me feel like my life is a little less hectic. This is one of those things.

6) Organized Notebooks - Again, it's the little things in life that bring me great joy. I like to know where things are, which is ironic because I'm always losing things.

7) Healthy Snack Options at Parties - I generally go to parties expecting to throw caution to the wind and completely destroy my body for the evening. So when I get to a party and see a nice fruit bowl or veggie platter my heart feels a little happier (I still get wasted and feel like poop the next day, but at least I'm looking great).

8) Making Playlists - This activity combines my two greatest loves in life: lists and music. How can one go wrong? I love figuring out cool combinations of tunes to suit the mood just right. Is it a chill mix? A party mix? A long drive? A bubble bath? A dinner party? So many things to consider! It's absolutely F-U-N.

9) Giving Directions - A lot of tourists roll through my restaurant so I find myself giving directions all the time and I love it. It makes me feel smart, knowledgeable, and helpful. The only problem is that I love giving directions so much that I hate when I don't know where something is. My solution? I make it up! I say something like "Yeah, just keep heading down this street and you'll run right into it." And in my mind I'm saying "I don't have a fucking clue where that is."

10) Getting Out of a Hot Shower in the Summer - O...M...G... if I could bottle up this feeling and sell it on Ebay, I would make more money than the Jesus toast. I absolutely love this. It is orgasmically refreshing, especially if there is a fan involved. I sometimes just stand naked in front of my fan and air dry so I can capitalize on this feeling. The downside? This is exactly the opposite in the wintertime. So this is a seasonal love (perhaps I should create a whole new post entitled "Seasons of Love." Yeah, I'll do that - and then I'll go gag myself.)

11) Chris Holownia - Cause he's awesome.

Chris: I would break my back for you

4:47pm

Me: I would stab my eyes out for you.

4:48pm

Chris: that's so hott

4:48pm

Me: that's love

1) walking in the frog pond- In the Boston Common there is a little man-made pond that is about ankle deep and little kids and adults alike frolic about in the cool water on hot summer afternoons. The other day, I was passing by and my friend Vanessa was like "We should walk through it!" but when we got to it, it was closed. We asked the "lifeguard" why and she said, "Some kid went to the bathroom in the water and it'll be closed until 5:30." This got me thinking - who knows how much fecal matter is in that pond! Who knows how many kids use the bathroom in the pond every day and no one knows! Perhaps homeless people bathe in the pond at night! So walking through it in bare feet: a good idea that just sucks. Especially if you have to put on socks and shoes afterward. Ick.

2) having class outside- ugh, kids are always begging to have class outside but it's just another one of those good ideas that suck. Having class outside is just so horribly distracting. For one, I am a musical theater major and the last thing I want to do is perform my weird, emotional scene or do ballet dancing in front of all the randos in Boston. Also, I get so easily distracted and I'll spend my time tearing up the grass and watching the pedestrians instead of listening (not that I can hear my professor over the traffic noises anyway). Lastly, I need forewarning before a day out in the park so that I can dress appropriately. No white pants on the grass for me!

3) eating on the patio- It always seems like such a nice idea to eat outside when you go to a restaurant but quite often you end up wishing you had decided otherwise. The wind picks up and your napkin goes flying, the sun is right in your face and you start to wish you had brought sunscreen to the meal, flies and other winged creatures land on your food, loud ambulances and trucks interrupt your conversation etc. etc. So many reasons why this idea just sucks.

4) getting day drunk - Sounds like so much fun - until you have a hangover at 6pm. Solution? Keep drinking until you are night drunk as well and then just go straight to bed. Hangovers are for the morning.

5) getting high in a dark forest - Did this a couple of nights ago and I actually had a great time. But now, my back is like a war torn nation of bug bites. Bugs love their Chinese food, I suppose (or they are sort of half and half on the subject, HA!). The other dangers that come with this great idea? Getting lost in the forest, getting paranoid about being in the dark, losing the greens etc. etc. Solution? Bring a flashlight and lots of bug spray.

Today, two women came in and they ordered a pizza to share. And then one of the women said "I'm famished, if I got a wedge salad, would you help me eat it?" The other woman frowned and somberly replied "Michael always ordered the wedge salad..." I stood there pen poised, absolutely speechless and wishing I had given this table to someone else. The first woman had a similar reaction but she quickly said, "Oh should we get something else?" And the other (I assume widowed) woman forced a smile and said "No, no. They are fond memories." Then, they both turned to look at me and I said, "Great! I'll go put that in for you." What does one say in a situation like that? Oof, an un-comfy corner if I've ever been in one. They ended up ordering another wedge salad later.

It fascinates me to no end how much our society is starting to embrace the whole idea of wearing our emotions on our sleeves. Back in the day it was just accepted that you had to bottle your emotions. Being emotionally forward in public was taboo. "Big boys don't cry." Well, all of those "big boys" were going home at night and crying uncontrollably into their pillows. Of course, it is still taboo for men to be seen crying in public, but we've come a long way! We see domesticate disputes in the streets all the time now. And while it is disturbing the peace, I still find it comforting to know that people are really communicating their emotions.

So, this is all leading me to an incident last night where I found myself sobbing uncontrollably (something I would never allow myself to do in high school.) Before I tell the story, though, I should give my theory on why I think I've changed. It's because I'm in acting school. All we do is embrace our emotions and recall things from our past and let go of our inhibitions. We are taught to be messy. So naturally, now I am a very emotionally unstable person. Thanks, college, I've learned a lot! I mean, thank God for my 3d glasses or else everyone would have seen how much I was sobbing at the end of Toy Story 3. I've never cried more in a movie. But the tears streaming behind those cheap, plastic glasses cannot compare to the tears from last night.

For the first time in my life, I was pulled over for speeding. I was driving on the interstate, but apparently when you get into Boston the speed limit jumps down to an embarassingly slow 30 miles per hour. I was cruising along beside a truck going the same speed as me at 68 mph. So naturally, I was the unlucky one that fell into the trap. As soon as the officer told me I was going 38 miles over the limit, I started sobbing. I wasn't trying to get out of the ticket, I was just feeling what I felt. "And that's okay!" my freshman acting teacher would say if she were there. But when the officer came back to tell me that he knocked the 850 dollar fine (!) down to 250 I was a mess. I couldn't speak to him and he was looking at me like I was insane. He was going on and on about safety and how I need to slow down and I was just crying and nodding. I didn't realize until I got home that he was looking at me like I was a maniac because I had just finished a show and I was still wearing eye liner. So I looked like a hooker that had just been beaten and tossed into the street.

So to all the men out there, it's okay to cry. As long as you aren't wearing eye liner.

The people who eat out can be categorized into relatively few stereotypes. Some are as follows:

The Silent Family- I see many families that come in and I feel so sorry for the kids because the parents order them waters with no ice and look sternly at them as they eat their plain cheese pizzas and they eat in silence. This is an awkward table to wait because you feel like you are intruding on some family feud or something. Perhaps it's a messy divorce or something but it always ends the same way: no dessert.

The Cool Dad- This is where my family fits in. My dad always felt the need to put on a show every time we went out to eat (he stills does this). He would joke with us kids and steal bites of our desserts and make terrible "dad jokes" every time the waiter came around. I now realize that there are many dads out there like this. They are bound and determined to show the world that they are hip, with it, and their kids love them.

The Invisible Waiter- This is the table that won't give you the time of day. Never once will they give you eye contact from start to finish. They are sometimes single diners on their cell phone the whole meal, or they are business men who simply cannot be bothered. They already know what they want to eat, if you go up to ask them if they want dessert, they will not stop talking to each other and pretend you aren't standing there. When you feebly attempt to manage a "have a nice day" as you drop off the check, they don't hear you and continue with their lives not ever knowing that you existed.

The Foreigners- They don't speak English, you resort to sign language, they order something safe like spaghetti, and they don't tip.

The Rich Who Don't Tip- This is really a sad case. These are the people who have never worked a day in the service industry and would never stoop so low as to even consider doing so. They don't understand that waiters have multiple tables to attend to, they get confused when you say things like "the egg rolls are pre-made at the beginning of the day so we can't take out the bacon." And then after being really picky, needy and overly judgmental, they tip poorly. Sometimes they'll even say something like "This is a far cry from the restaurant at the W."

The Poor Who Tip Really Well- These are my favorite. These are the waiters who eat out. These are the people who work their asses off in the service industry for very little pay. They understand your life particularly well. They forgive any mistakes you make. They joke with you about other difficult customers and they tip well even if you kinda sucked. This is the category where I fit in.

The Indecisive- This is Table 27.

The Overly Chatty- The really nice table that thinks you want to know everything about their lives. I had a woman once who literally said to me "I am going to tell you why I like eating the crust of my bread and you are going to stand there and listen." It was frustrating. It wasn't a good story ("I had sensitive teeth as a kid and I was never allowed to eat my crust.") but she was nice. These are often very cute, very old people.

Ya know how you have those moments when you suddenly remember a moment from your past and you get all nostalgic and realize that you've changed but you haven't - you're older but still pretty much the same? And then you think, "Wow, I wish I could recapture some of that uninhibited creativity from my youth." Well, I'm only twenty-one so I don't really have many moments like that but, I recently flashed back to a memory from high school which I think captures my odd sense of humor very well.

I was with a group of my friends and I was telling them about how funny it would be if someone ate a Snickers bar with a fork and a knife. No one does that, right? So, of course we decided to do it. But, of course, we had to take things to the next level. We set out the white table cloth, we got out the good china, we lit candles, and my friend Laura whipped out her violin. I sat there at the table and ate that whole Snickers bar with a fork and a knife in the dim lighting accompanied by the violin.When I finished we all laughed and went about our day - we didn't take pictures or videotape it or anything. Just doing it was enough.

And while I miss those weird moments from high school, I still feel like my sense of humor is pretty much the same and if ever I was confronted with another opportunity to eat a Snickers bar with a fork and a knife, I wouldn't hesitate.

My friend Megan recently introduced me to a new term, a term which I have just discovered directly applies to my entire personality: kidding on the square. Urban Dictionary (the most reliable reference source on the internet) defines it simply as "joking, but also meaning it." For example, let's say that it's 9am and you just met up with some friends when you suddenly look at them and say "Hey, we should totally be wasted right now. Wanna go to a bar?" Then you follow it with an awkward laugh and a glance around hoping that the "joke" is met with actual approval. My problem is that all of my jokes have a little bit of truth to them, and sometimes, I end up hurting people's feelings (completely unintentionally) or coming across as a total asshole.

Now, allow me to dig myself out of that ditch. My jokes are usually harmless (I hope. If you are sitting at home right now crying because of something I said to you, please let me know). For instance I comment on someone's sweater or something by being like "Wow, you definitely won't get hit with a car wearing that." Laugh. Awkward pause "I'm joking. The sweater doesn't actually offend me, I was just commenting on the fact that it was a very bright color." OR oftentimes my jokes come across as blatant narcissism. For example, I was walking down the street once with my friend Beth freshmen year and I turned to her and said "Ya know, I don't understand why people have so much trouble getting their work done. I get eight hours of sleep every night and I still manage to get everything done." I was joking, but I meant it. And it didn't come across as a joke to Beth, it came across as a bitchy remark. That moment haunts me to this day. Every time I complain about how stressed I am or about how I'm behind schedule on a paper, one of my classmates will gladly put on a smirk and say "Oh, I thought you always managed to get your work done on time?" To which I typically respond, "I'm sorry, but a lot of things just come to me easily. I can't help being Asian."

So I guess we can safely conclude that the more you get to know me, the more you realize that behind the kind Southern aura and the goofy smile is a sassy bitch waiting to strike. To the untrained eye, however, I'm only joking. ;)

It is a common misconception that Asians are not suited for operating vehicles. I mean, check out this Asian lady in Family Guy. If Family Guy makes fun of it, you know it must be true. I, however, have been very against this stereotype because, well - I'm Asian. And I take pride in my driving abilities. But today, I was not so proud. I felt like a true, stereotypical Asian. In fact, after reading this story, you may refer to me as - a gay-sian.

I had plans after rehearsal to go out with friends at Uno's (ya know, the most hoppin' place in the greater Boston area after 11pm). Our plans to go to "Glamorous Night" at the club were thwarted by the fact that we were all just shipooped (yeah, I went there). The only snafu in the plan was that I didn't know how to get to Uno's, so I was to follow Megan. I started out strong (following her out of the parking lot successfully) but then I got distracted as I so often do. "The Color Purple" popped up on my iPod and when that happens, I have no choice but to act out the scenes (with fervent emotion). So while I was busy saying "Nah, Celie. God not some gloomy old man like dah pictures you seen of him. God not a man at all" (etc. etc. You know the song, I'm sure) the car in front of me was no longer the Honda it used to be, it was a Jetta. I had completely forgotten that I was supposed to be following someone. Where was I going? I don't know. My brain had completely shut off ("Good ruck evelybody erse!!!") I was on Bacon Street and a rush of embarrassment came over me.

I had officially out-gayed, out-Asianed myself. I got distracted by "The Color Purple." Megan called me, "You missed the turn." Ashamed, I was like "Yeah, I don't know how that happened..." but once I got to Uno's I confessed. It was just too funny to let slide.

I am often disconcerted by the ads that Facebook targets at me. They make me feel like a very two-dimensional person. Like, just because I like to listen to Britney Spears on occasion doesn't mean I want to see some other two-bit pop star in concert. And just because I'm gay doesn't mean I wanna meet hot single men in the Boston area "now." Most of the time, though, I am able to look past them and focus on the things that really matter on Facebook (like whose wall-to-wall is the most outrageous, who posted some fun drunk pics, who likes my status etc.) This particular ad, however, baffled me then and continues to baffle me now. I didn't click it for fear of what I would find on the other side... but what in my interest category made Facebook decide that this would be a great ad to throw my way?


No, Facebook, I don't "like." In fact, I dislike with utter confusion and discomfort. Nothing about this makes sense. What is a Morphsuit? Why is it wearing headphones and glasses? What's with the weird quote and the strangely punctuated ". Tom, Poole."? Why did they feel the need to tell me that "it's true" as if I thought anything about this ad was false? I don't plan on getting my Morphsuit today, or ever for that matter, so stop it Facebook.

Me: I'd like to unpack your bags...

Beth: be my guest! ;)

Me: oh baby. I didn't know your luggage would be so quick to arrive.

Beth: oh no, you're wrong, i'm never quick

Me: oh, am I gonna have to file a missing baggage report and have you mailed to me?

Beth: that might be best... even though it's not the speediest delivery, it's always the best quality

Me: alright. wow...I should stop. Your half of the metaphor is much sexier than mine.I was gonna be like "gah, I knew I should've either split you into two bags or just taken some weight off of you and brought you as carry-on"

My brain is quite often on "space cadet mode." Here are a few things I do when I'm in this state. I'm sure many of you can relate (or, at least, I hope many of you can relate).

1. I put the remote in the refrigerator.

2. I bike or drive past the road I was supposed to turn onto (multiple times, usually).

3. I lose everything. I lose my pen/scissors/tape a million times while I'm trying to complete a project. I lose sunglasses, water bottles, and my keys constantly. I've lost my shoes. I've gone through 6 iPods and about 8 digital cameras (I'll stop there. This could be a whole new list.).

4. I take a tray of drinks into the bathroom at work (mentioned this in another post, but still funny).

5. I put balsamic vinegar in my fried rice instead of soy sauce OR I pour balsamic vinegar on my pancakes instead of syrup (the latter was a much worse experience).

6. I lock myself out of my apartment.

7. I try to pay for stuff with my student ID.

8. Sometimes, and don't judge too harshly on this one, I go into the bathroom to just pee or poo but I end up taking off all of my clothes. Once naked, I then have a moment of confusion and decide to either put my clothes back on or go ahead and take a shower (we've all done that, though, right?) I've even taken my shirt off in a public restroom only to have a moment of confusion and put it back on.

People say that dreams reflect our inner desires. We can discover the truth about ourselves by analyzing our dreams. What do you think this one means about me, then? Please keep in mind that I am naturally very dramatic, so my dreams are very vivid and high drama.

I had just committed a high crime and I was sentenced to live out the rest of my days on the side of a volcano. The crazy thing about this volcano? It was housed in a giant warehouse. So there I was, sweating profusely on the side of this volcano-in-a-warehouse, suffering my sins and I was fighting to get to the top because at the top of this volcano was the greatest gift of all: weed that never burnt out. That's right, an endless bowl.

So I finally made it to the top and I grabbed two huge handfuls of the priceless greens and I bolted my way down the mountain to the door of the warehouse. I slowly crept out of the door (apparently the security in this volcano prison was not very high, since they didn't even lock the door) and I started to run. I got a good head start, but I knew that they were going to realize I was gone. Sure enough, I started to hear the sirens sounding, and the dogs barking. I panicked! I knew that if I had the weed on me, the dogs would be able to trace my scent, so I dropped the weed and ran. I found a small trailer and I slid underneath it. I did the classic cling-to-the-bottom-of-the-trailer-so-they-can't-see-you-if-you-look-under-it.

But then, a pair of boots came up right beside my head and a deep, masculine voice said, "You can't get away that easy, boy." And a big hand reached under the trailer, grabbed me and pulled me out. He threw me on the ground. I looked up at him bravely and uttered "You'll never catch me." And I ran into the woods. And the last part of my dream was like the end of a Twilight film or something. I was darting through the woods at warp speed and there was a voice over. I can't remember exactly what it said but it was something like "So there I was, forced to live out my days as a fugitive running from the law. That's just the price you pay when you're" dramatic hit in the music (yes my dreams typically have orchestral soundtracks) ...and then I woke up.

I was not on a volcano. I was safe and sound in my comfy corner.