Hire me, goddammit.

I sent Gawker excerpts from Jenny 8 Lee’s new book because I had a review copy from work. I then had a brief email exchange with the book editor there and today she published the excerpts that I had sent, complete with the charming yet inane tags that I had given them. Food porn! I said it was food porn and then she used it!

Here’s my dream: Gawker book editor and I exchange a series of erudite emails establishing my quick wit and abundance of snark. In these emails, I mention that I am moving to New York in April. Gawker mentions they have a free associate editor position. Based on the strength of my carefully crafted emails, I start writing for them, perhaps covering race? I have no idea. Whatever. I want to be a part of their world.

Maybe my next step is to make up lit journals and write some clips and slap together a fake portfolio. Shouldn’t I try to live the dream? I’m not sure what the dream is.

On an unrelated note, I wish I used a zipline as my main form of transportation. Even though I am terrified of heights and the idea of my whizzing through the air clutching onto a small piece of metal, a zipline as transport seems to be the funniest/best way to go about matters. I would wear a helmet. It would rule.

Inappropriate

I was at Shoe Pavilion this afternoon standing on the escalator and listening to my iPod, not paying attention to anything that was going on around me when I noticed a diminutive security guard gesturing wildly in my general direction. I took my headphones off so I could see what he wanted.

“What are you mixed with?”

“My mom’s from Taiwan, my dad is white.” I gave a wan smile and put my headphones back in. He forged ahead. “I was going to guess that. I was going to say Taiwan.” He gave me a thumb’s up. I put my headphones back and walked out.

When did this become an appropriate question to ask? I find it rude, invasive and somehow inappropriate. I understand that the question is borne out of innocent curiosity but I still find it to be a weird one to be asked. There’s no reason for me to have to constantly identify myself to strangers and there is absolutely no reason for strangers to invade my bubble and ask me these things. I try not to make a big deal out of it because I don’t find it to be a big deal. California is hugely diverse, full of different races, genders, social identities, whatever. Great. Awesome. I didnt’ come here to seek out my half-Asian brethren and commiserate. I’m just living here. I’m trying to find a job. I’m trying to live my life. I don’t need or want to be thinking about these things and not because I’m trying to run away from myself. I’ve already dealt with this during my freshman year of college via a series of potentially embarassing ruminations on what it’s like to be bi-racial. This is no longer my trip. Please stop trying to make it as such.

ALERT: Please follow the jump for the addendum to my race relations day.

It’s all so new.

It gets easier every day. At first you feel at odds with yourself, sitting in your empty apartment at 11:30 in the morning, knowing that you need to leave the house but aren’t sure what you would do if you did. There are good things about this. The TV is never on anymore, because daytime television depresses you. Sometimes you go throw your bookshelves and make neat piles of books you wanted to read but never had the time for. You spend an inordinate amount of time plucking your eyebrows. You find yourself engaging in behaviors that are so wholly bizarre that it’s better that they are kept to yourself, in the small hours of the afternoon. You stop using utensils and plates to eat your food, instead opting to squatting in front of the refrigerator in your underwear, picking half-heartedly at a variety of foil-covered plates. You know your roommate would lose her mind if she saw you picking chunks of sausage out of the bowl with your fingers but she’s not here to witness it, so you forge ahead.

not ready for this

arg.

i could turn this into a half assed knitting blog. that’s all i’ve been reading recently because apparently, i am obsessed with knitting. i found myself on the phone to my sister in new york directing her urgently to a yarn barn so she could get me shit for my birthday. i’m telling you, i’m not ok.

oh this old thing

hi.

well.
it’s been a while again. god i suck. how am i ever going to dominate the internet if i don’t update this thing?

anyway. let me provide a bulleted list of what’s been going on in my life. i LOVE lists.

1. i got a haircut. it is short, choppy and i look like a power lesbian. scale of 1-10 it is like a 6.

2. SONIA WILL BE HERE AT THE END OF THE MONTH. THIS FILLS ME WITH GLEE. WE ARE GOING TO BIG SUR AND WE ARE GOIGN TO CAMP AND DRINK AND PLAY CELEBRITY!
3. the chornicle slowly wears away at my soul. with each passing day my youth dies a little more.
4. um! the bay bridge will be closed on our way back into the city. as i know jack shit about how to get anywhere, i am hoping that we will be able to make it home without probs as we will be cranky, stinky and wanting to die.
5. i love jeopardy.
6. this list is really not an update on my life but apparently mental diarrhea.