Month: June 2013

  • Power Tools & Bandage Dresses

    I'm moving in 6 days. In packing frenzy.

    Some realizations:
    1. Man who are handy, major brownie points. Because I'm simply not. Thank goodness for Mom and her boyfriend. Or I'd be in trouble now.
    2. Being a man is tough, really tough.
    3. I'm starting a new hashtag called #iratherpopbabiesthanusepowertools. Yes, I rather pop babies than use power tools.

     

    I bought my first bandage dress.
    Some realizations:
    1. My girlfriend was right. This thing clings onto your skin tighter than how your psycho girlfriend or boyfriend clings onto you.
    2. Bandage dress is good for the eyes, not good for action. So damn hard to put on and take off. 
    3. As such, bandage dress is not first-time-sex friendly. Imagine you getting frisky. If it gets stuck (and it likely will, especially if the guy's doing the undressing), it'd be damn awkward.
    Profound thoughts I know.
    That is all.

  • Cheers to ESL Classes

    I love ESL classes, for I no longer have to type in Chinese when communicating with my mom.
    This makes trash talking on Facebook that much easier.

    Here's how our conversation went:
    Me, in reference to her profile picture: "This is ugly too."
    Mom, in Chinese, translated: "You have a cute mom."
    Me: "No, you have a cute daughter."
    Me: "Lucky you".
    Mom: "Yes, my daughter soooooo cute."
    Me: "Ok, I approve this photo."
    This sort of conversation could not have transpired prior to her ESL classes.

  • "A" For Penmanship

    I looked over to a coworker's notepad during our annual planning meeting earlier this week.

    He was a highly regarded colleague, very well respected in the organization.
    However, his penmanship was less than impressive.
    "So what?" I thought to myself. 
    So what if he has ugly handwriting?
    ------
    When I was in elementary school, scoring good grades in my handwriting assignments was a big deal.
    I still remember the pencil markings off the dotted and solid lines.
    It meant the world to me when I scored an A, and it saddened me when I realized that my classmate scored an A+.
    ------
    Years later, looking at my coworker's less than spectacular handwriting, I marveled at how much I used to care about something that does not really matter.
    I was graded for good penmanship, therefore, I was conditioned to care.
    But, looking back, who cares?
    ------
    As an adult, just like how I was graded on good handwriting, I'm graded on many things.
    May I have the wisdom to differentiate between things that matter and things that don't.
    To the 6 year-old Ling, good penmanship was a big deal.
    It is not.