all things magical

goodbye, blogspot!

2010-02-17T21:26:00.000-08:00

New blog here. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

because i suck.

2010-02-04T21:40:00.001-08:00

OK, I'm a bad person. I lied. I never did my trip wrap-up. (Well, I drafted a bit of one, but then I gave up because I got lazy and now it's not timely.)

I deserve to be smacked.

I've obviously gotten way too lazy for this blog. Or I've just gotten tired of it-- the same old picture, fonts, layout, etc.

I'm going to play around with it a bit and see if I can revamp it.

Hopefully it'll give me a resurgence of inspiration.

trip wrap-up coming soon!

2010-01-06T08:04:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I know. I was supposed to blog throughout my trip. But a) I've had NO time b) Internet hasn't been free and c) even when I've had time, I've been 150% too exhausted to get online. I do regret not having documented the trip though, especially since there's been so many freaking hilarious/amazing/crazy stories that could've been told.

Still, I can tell you this much: This has been the best trip ever.

Like, ever.

Complete wrap-up of the trip -- complete with photos-- coming after it's all over.

Promise. :)

longest trip of my life.

2009-12-26T10:59:00.001-08:00

Tokyo lights from above.

30 hours, 3 flights (Cincinnati -> Minneapolis -> Tokyo -> Ho Chi Minh), 2 books, 4 magazines, 400+ songs, countless naps and 1 lonely Christmas later, I've finally landed in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam and I'm 100% pooped.

These, plus an anthology of short stories and my trusted companions

Vogue, Time, Nylon & People kept me busy for 24+ hours of airtime...

Vonnegut gave me things to ponder... at least briefly.

Couldn't tell you what the most amusing part of my trip was... getting assailed for sympathy by a woman in the Cincinnati airport who got her elephant-sized bottles of lotion and perfume confiscated at security (which she made sure to tearfully emphasize was gifted to her by her thoughtful grandchildren; I commiserated but secretly laughed at her stupidity) or getting complimented on "finally getting my braces off" by an TSA official comparing me to my old passport photo (to which I replied, "we don't talk about that photo," and he responded, "trust me, I've seen a lot worse").

Excited to see more of Vietnam tomorrow-- all I've seen so far is masses of people hanging around on motorcycles...

travel tales!

2009-12-24T16:45:00.000-08:00

I know it's been a while, but I'm off to Vietnam, Cambodia and Hong Kong tomorrow morning and I'm going to try (key word here: try) to post photos/updates/stories if the time allows.

Get ready yallz.

i'm obese.

2009-11-06T17:18:00.000-08:00

Me, basically.

I know it's been a while, but don't worry, kids! I'm still alive and kickin'-- albeit a little sick, tired and LOT rounder than before (Jeans are just... unpleasant. Looks like I'm going to be wearing leggings and stretchy pants for a while).

Let's just say October wasn't exactly a good month for my physical health. Not only did I dispose of all willpower and adopt animalistic eating patterns (why does Halloween, and the four weeks leading up to it, suddenly make you think it's OK to consume 5 candy bars a day?), an army of germs hacked into my system and produced a god-awful cold that's been plaguing me with coughs and sniffles for the past two weeks.

But it's November now, and I know it's going to be a good month. Because November offers the glorious promise of Thanksgiving break-- and most importantly, home. Not fake, temporary LA home, but good old Ohio home.

Oh corn fields, strip malls, suburbia and nippy weather. How I've missed you!

On another note, go watch Disney's A Christmas Carol (it's never too early for Christmas!) in 3D. The stunning visual experience alone is worth the ticket price, though the movie itself is super dark and actually really scary. You can read my review here... just ignore the ridiculous spelling error inserted in the first sentence by my editors (depection? The 'e' isn't even near the 'i' on the keyboard. Don't even get me started on my rocky relationship with the Daily Trojan...).

why i love LA... pt. 2.

2009-10-02T21:06:00.000-07:00

Korean BBQ on wheels. Only in LA.

I had Kogi BBQ for the second time on campus today (free both times; the first for a Program Board promotion, today for the Arts Journalism Summit... yeah, the Korean BBQ gods love me) and have decided it is the most brilliant creation on this planet.

It's Korean BBQ with a Mexican twist-- your choice of barbecue short ribs, chicken, pork or tofu wrapped in tortillas and garnished with the most addicting combination of "Korean-style" salsa roja and vinaigrette, cilantro and onions. Basically, a fiesta in your mouth.

It's so good I haven't been able to think about anything else all day. Literally. I've been walking around in a Kogi-induced daze, the spirits of tacos long gone lingering on my taste buds and tormenting my soul. It's like I have one of those Big Boy thought bubbles over my head with nothing but Kogi BBQ in it. I want more Kogi, and I want it now!

Now I know what really fat people feel like after they finish whatever edible item they're consuming: Hopeless, desperate, confused.

I'm going to religiously stalk the truck on Twitter so I can be first in line the next time it's at SC.

why i love LA.

2009-09-30T18:19:00.001-07:00

Whip It! Whip it real good.

The Chinese theatre!

People I saw up-close and personal at the red carpet premiere of Whip It! last night:

Steven Spielberg

Quentin Tarantino

Drew Barrymore

Justin Long

Krysten Ritter

Serena Williams

Olivia Wilde

Edward Norton

Eve

Cast of Glee

Yeah. Fabulosity. Justin even spoke to me (I yelled "I love you"; he replied "I'm very fond of YOU"). That's right, be jealous.

Before the movie started, Drew gave a cute little speech at the front of the theatre (it's her directorial debut). She was all fidgety and nervous, shy and girly and self-conscious and adorable. I sort of fell in love with her.

The movie itself wasn't spectacular, though. It was charming, cute and breezy (sort of like Drew herself), but got by mainly on Ellen Page's tomboyish charm, and the storyline (especially the romance with Landon Pigg) was a bit convenient and cliche.

Still, the whole experience-- watching star arrivals from the front of the fan pit and reveling in just how unfairly attractive they are in person, watching the film in the Grouman's Chinese Theatre amongst so many celebs and cinematic greats, and stalking/meeting celebs afterward -- was brilliant.

Oh, Hollywood.

a spiritual experience.

2009-09-28T15:14:00.001-07:00

I knew Friday was going to be a good night when two girls approached me and Brittany at the Wiltern minutes before the Bon Iver concert began and offered to trade their floor tickets for our LAST ROW mezzanine ones. Why? Because they had spent the entire day walking around LA and desperately needed to sit.

Needless to say, we took the offer. And in an amazing stroke of luck, Brittany and I found ourselves moments later standing in the very front of the Wiltern with a perfect view of the show.

Which, of course, was absolutely mind-blowing. Justin Vernon, I'm pretty sure, is God.

My only regret was that I didn't get any pictures, since my camera has unfortunately passed away. And that I didn't get to follow the Wiltern show with Bon Iver's Hollywood Forever sunrise show on Sunday (which, I'm sure, was amazing).

After the show, we got to chat with the bearded dudes of Megafaun (the opening band), which was really cool. Sadly, we didn't get to meet Justin... though I would've done any assortment of ungodly things to shake his hand (and then ask him to marry me).

Someday...

Read about the concert here.

funniest shit ever.

2009-09-19T01:41:00.000-07:00

What happens when you have a guy with a sick sense of humor, slightly sadistic tendencies, and a lot of time on his hands? Dontevenreply.com, AKA my new favorite website. Basically, this dude named Mike screws with people who post classifieds, e-mailing them ridiculous replies and making them very angry/confused. Hilarious interchanges ensue. Why does he do it? Who the hell knows. The point is, it's brilliant.

Read it and weep (of laughter).

Oh, and along the same vein, check out 27bslash6.com; David Thorne is a comedic genius. The spider drawing e-mail had me in violent spasms. I almost woke up my roomie.

the horror.

2009-09-19T01:10:00.000-07:00

So many questions. So few answers.

A few days have passed since the general clusterfuck that was this year's VMAs occurred, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to get Lady Gaga's frightening bird's nest face out of my head.

This can become a problem, especially when I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep and all of a sudden, BAM!!!, an image of Gaga's horrifying nest head flashes across my eyelids, leaving me quivering under my covers in fear.

dear 12728, i love you.

2009-09-16T00:24:00.001-07:00

An ephemeral moment.

I found my soulmate Saturday on my way home from Venice Beach.

The only problem? I technically never met the man, and he doesn't know of my existence. I sped past his wondrous visage while seated in the backseat of a moving vehicle.

Still, such trivial constraints of time and space did not stop me from feeling a visceral connection with the strapping young gentleman. The snapshot I took, I am sure, will keep the fire of our love strong and well... Forever.

P.S. If you happen to know the fellow pictured in the photo above, please do send him my way.

why i'm excommunicating my cell phone.

2009-09-12T12:59:00.001-07:00

Beware: This thing can snatch up your dignity in the blink of an eye.

I meant to post this last week (as in right after it happened), but I was too busy nursing my psychological wounds to put a coherent thought together. Anyways, I have decided to stop bringing my cell phone to my English class, and here's why:

If your cell phone has ever rung in the middle of class, or your music library has ever spontaneously turned on, you know how much it sucks. You're sitting in class being all studious-like when all of a sudden, seemingly, at first, in the recesses of your mind, and then quite glaringly in your immediate sensory environment, you hear your jolly ringtone pierce the drone of lecture. All eyes turn to you. Blood rushes to your face as you fumble around in your purse to turn it off. Within one or two minutes, though, you get over it: This is why you set your ringtone to a song you like/don't mind others identifying you with. Life goes on.

But what if your phone was handed down from your gangsta brother, you hadn't had a chance to update the music library (95% of which has African-American origins and involves either the word "drank" or "sexy"), and the tune that interrupted class was one that lauds the sexual merits of a female dancing on a pole?

Yeah. It sucks hard.

Which is why I'm never bringing my cell phone to class again.

the play-by-play

Class: *discussing role of religion in immigrant experience*

Me: *underlining some lines in my book, blissfully unaware that T-Pain was about to ruin my life*

T-Pain: I KNOW SHE GOT IT CUZ SHE LOOKIN AT ME LIKE SHE WANT IT DROP IT LOW MAKE ME WANNA THROW SOME DS ON IT

Me: (HAH sucks for whosever lame ringtone that is. Wait. Why is it coming from my purse. PLEASE DEAR GOD TELL ME THAT'S NOT MY PHONE.)

Class: *Stares in my general direction. Prof stops lecturing.*

Me: (Fuck.)

T-Pain: WHATEVER IT IS, YOU CAN'T STOP IT CUZ SHE GET LOW WHEN SHE ON THAT POLE AND THAT LET ME KNOW SHE GOT IT

Me: (OH GOD, HOW DO I TURN MY PHONE OFF? ) *Fumble with phone for a century*

T-Pain: SHE GOT IT SHE GOT IT SHE GOT IT

Class: *Stare*

T-Pain: SHE GOT IT SHE GOT IT SHE GOT IT

Class: *Stare*

Me: (Why, god???)

Guy sitting next to me with huge, obnoxious smirk on his face: Here. *Takes phone and turns it off.*

Me: Uh. Thanks.

Class: *Totally unnecessary awkward silence*

Prof: ANYWAYS...

Now all 30 people in my English class think I'm a raging tool who listens to T-Pain and doesn't know how to use a cell phone.

SUCCESS.

i knew i should've applied to brown.

2009-09-09T03:24:00.000-07:00

Emma Watson is now officially at Brown, attempting the whole I'm-a-celeb-but-I-value-education-so-I'm-going-to-pretend-I'm-a-normal-person-and-attend-college thing we've seen countless times before. In theory, it's a good idea. In practice, not so much (cough cough the Olsen twins).

Stalkerazzi photos of her at freshman orientation show her trying REALLY hard to look all-American and normal, wearing a white t-shirt, jean cutoffs and-- this is the best part-- sneakers.

Mingling. Sort of.

How necessary were the sneaks, exactly?

P.S. Love the nerdy Asian boys in the back-- dayummmm.

Now I know what I'm missing by not going to an Ivy League.

In all honesty, I sort of feel bad for the girl. All she wants is some good old edukayshun and you know she's going to have a hell of a time getting it. I mean, hell, I'd stalk her if I went to Brown. (Understatement; I'm currently on Brown's transfer website. Just kidding. Maybe.).

It's really quite simple, Em. No matter how hard you try-- no matter how plainly you dress or how many layers of tattered clothing you hide under-- you will never blend in with other college kids. People will stalk you on your way to class, sneak cell phone pictures of you in the bathroom, and treat you like a souvenir ("dude, EMMA WATSON lent me this pencil in English today!").

"I just want to be normal," she says.

Girl, I hope you all the best. But you're the face of Burberry. You're on magazine covers. You're one of the stars of the biggest movie franchise like, ever.

You will be many things in life, but you will never, ever be normal.

the case of the HFCS-infected yogurt.

2009-08-31T23:24:00.000-07:00

The perpetrator.

Sorry for the long absence;

the past two weeks have been a chaotic blur of moving in, buying shit, settling in, buying more shit, learning how to cook (I'm now a pro at making omelets, pasta and paninis), learning how to clean after myself, working out (yes, like physical exercise), starting classes, reading for said classes, writing for the Daily Trojan, hating the Daily Trojan, mooping around the apartment,

etc.

While it's really tempting for me to sit here and complain about all the things I really want to complain about, I'm not going to, because I do enough of that in real life. So instead, I'm going to tell you to go see Inglourious Basterds, the latest Tarantino flick, because it's damn entertaining (even with the scalping scenes-- and if you know me at all, you know that I hate scalping scenes). I'm going to tell you to savor your summer while it lasts, if you're one of my lucky chums who attend Ohio State (which enforces a never-ending summer policy). And I'm also going to leave you with an interchange that took place between me and Nitasha (the roomie) just a few minutes ago that, I think, illustrates our relationship quite well.

Nitasha: (runs to the room with yogurt in hand) OH. MY GOD. THERE IS HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP IN MY YOGURT.

Me: Please calm down.

Nitasha: (eats a few spoonfuls) DO I HAVE TO FINISH THIS???

Me: Yes. Can you calm down please?

Nitasha: THERE'S. HIGH. FRUCTOSE. CORN SYRUP. IN IT.

Me:

Nitasha: Those are four words that will NEVER be in my food.

Me: You're retarded.

[Fact: The trivial amount of high-fructose corn syrup in Yoplait isn't going to kill you.

Another fact: Nitasha is an obsessive, born-again, borderline psychotic health freak.

Yet another fact: After finishing her yogurt, Nitasha proceeded to make mysterious noises from the kitchen for ten minutes that sounded suspiciously like she was eating the entire contents of the pantry and refrigerator. I did not ask questions. Another five minutes later, she ran into our room screaming that she "can't stop eating." And that is why we're roommates.]

12 things we've learned from the movies this summer.

2009-08-23T18:27:00.000-07:00

Here.

hometown pride. well, sort of.

2009-08-14T14:54:00.001-07:00

In five days, I will be back in La La Land.

The sheer thought of it is making me feel sort of queasy, like I have this slight bit of stomach fever that just won't go away, which inspired me to write about why I gain so much enjoyment from the Nasty Nati. Read it if you're curious, a fellow Cincinnatian, or shocked that someone could enjoy living in... Ohio.

No, this isn't the view I wake up to, but it's Cincinnati at its finest.

items of journalistic interest.

2009-08-12T22:26:00.001-07:00

Seeing that I spend a good two to three hours a day splayed out on my deck in an attempt to add some pigment to my embarrassingly (for an Asian who spends the majority of her time in California) pale skin, I've been doing some major magazine-perusing lately (actual novels require too much eyestrain in the sun). Items of interest:

1. Joel Stein, columnist for Time.

I've never been a dedicated follower of any single columnist; I tend to just drift to articles that interest me. But this guy can get me to read about anything, including sports, which means that I've officially sold my soul. The dude is freaking hilarious. I swear, he could write a ten word sentence about feet and it would have me on the floor. I have to read his columns in private or else people (namely, my parents) will think I'm high. Too bad he's married, because I'm pretty sure I have a crush on him and his genius wit. We even have the same birthday. (Which makes three: my friend Jill, Daniel Radcliffe, and Joel Stein. Yes, I wiki-stalked a Time columnist. Whatever, judging is for losers.)

2. "The New Trophy Wives: Asian Women" by Ying Chu; Marie Claire.

An investigation into yellow fever. If you're female and Asian-American, you've probably experienced it yourself. If not, you've probably noticed all those Hollywood tycoons with Asian arm candy (Nicolas Cage, Woody Allen, etc.)-- is it love, or a fetish? The ever-elusive question explored, here. (I have some issues with this article, but it brings up some interesting points.)

3. Fashion mags' obsession with the recession.

This is a point of annoyance rather than interest. We all know there's a recession going on. We all know people are in a financial pinch. But fashion mags aren't supposed to be budget-conscious; they're supposed to be a means of escape. When I open a fashion magazine, I don't want to see the clothes I see at the mall; I want to see the creative, fantastical, artistic creations walking down the runway. I don't buy a magazine to see American Eagle and Keds, I buy it to see 3.1 Phillip Lim and Louboutins. So please, enough with the "budget issues," the "everything for under $100," the "money-saving shopping guides." I don't want some diet version of fashion; I want the real thing, thanks.

this is a boy meets girl story... not a love story.

2009-08-08T19:06:00.001-07:00

Love -- or something like it.

Remember when I predicted that 500 Days of Summer would be delicious? I was right. One word: perfection. The movie was practically made for me, from the soundtrack to the choice of actors and the beautifully awkward sense of humor. I am in love. Deliriously, ardently, passionately in love. With Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, my husband), and Summer (Zooey Deschanel, my always-quirky and entrancing girl crush), and the refreshing, charming, poignant story line, and every last amazing song placed so eloquently in the movie. (This is one of those movies that use good music well, like Garden State, unlike the movies I complained about).

But then again, if I've learned anything from the film,

love's just a word.

i live every week like it's shark week.

2009-08-07T21:35:00.001-07:00

Do you?

chi-town times.

2009-08-06T16:58:00.001-07:00

My first (long and wonderfully descriptive ) draft of this blog got deleted. So if this one is slightly more curt than usual, now you know why. Anyways, I spent the last weekend in Chicago with Jenny and Steph ('SC chums). Notable moments are listed below:

1. Harry Potter Exhibit @ Museum of Science & Industry:

Way overpriced (ticket alone was $26), but way worth it. It was almost as good as going to Hogwarts itself (I know because I go there). If you can, go!!! You can see a bunch of costumes, set pieces, props, etc. from the films. You can technically touch them, too, but then you'd get kicked out. I was SO close to touching Ron's hilarious dress robes from Goblet of Fire ("I look like my Great Aunt Tessie! I smell like my Great Aunt Tessie! Murder me, Harry!"), but I chickened out last minute due to the heavy presence of hawk-like guards. Still, thanks to my ninja skills, I managed to sneak in a few illegal photographs (below). Blurry, yes, but beggars can't be choosers.

Outside the exhibit, where pseudo-British museum workers

would ask lame and occasionally incorrect trivia questions to the awaiting audience.

Hermione's robes and casual attire.

Ron's robes!

Costumes and set pieces from Prisoner of Azkaban.

And this was when I got yelled at by a guard.

2. Jenny attempting to get us a rollaway bed at Hotel Felix:

Jenny (on the phone): Hi. Um, do you charge a fee for rollaway beds? Because, um. This bed is not... comfortable. For me. (It was actually so soft and comfortable it was practically a floating cloud.)

Hotel Desk: No, we don't charge a fee.

Jenny (noticeably heartened): Oh!

Hotel Desk: ... But we don't have rollaway beds.

Well, there's one way to raise someone's hopes... and then violently crush them to pieces.

3. Shark Week:

I know it's not Chicago-specific, but since it's Shark Week on Discovery Channel, Jenny, Steph and I spent our late nights glued to the TV screen watching gruesome shark attacks. Colin (Steph's significant other) is currently scuba diving in the Bahamas, and Steph is a worrier if I've ever seen one (love you Steph), so she basically began to pee herself.

Steph: OMYGAWD!!! What if Colin gets attacked by sharks!!!

Guy on TV: ... and then we headed for the Bahamas, one of the most shark-attack prone places in the entire world...

Steph: WAHHHH!!!?? OMYGAWD!!!!!!

5 minutes later, Steph is sitting on the couch with her laptop. Jenny goes over to see what she's up to.

Jenny: HAHAHHAHAHAHHA

Me: What?

Jenny: Steph is just sitting here staring at her Facebook picture with Colin, all sad-like.

Me: HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA HE'S NOT GOING TO GET ATTACKED BY SHARKS

Steph: HOW DO YOU KNOW???

4. Chatting up a decidedly Democratic stranger @ Starbucks:

Need a conversation starter? Say the words "Young Republican" in a big city. Worked for me...

Me (talking about the minimal presence of Republicans at USC): blah blah blah Young Republicans blah blah blah blah. (Random Stranger looks over from coffee counter with creepy grin plastered on his face; I attempt to ignore him) Um... yeah... blah blah blah blah

Random Stranger (walks over, creepy grin still plastered on his face): Young Republicans?? Young Republicans?? Are you one?

Me: Um, no. Ha. Ha. Just talking about how there aren't that many at school...

Random Stranger: Oh! Ha ha ha ha ha! was gonna say, I don't think those exist...

Me: Yeah, ha ha.

Random Stranger: Heh heh heh. Yeah, cuz they're all old, right? Ha ha!

Me: Ha haaaaa, yeah.

*** AWKWARD SILENCE ***

Random Stranger: Okay, then! Well, you have a good day now!!!

Oh, Chicago... and my future roomies (minus one who was very missed). How I love thee.

in other music news...

2009-07-30T15:07:00.000-07:00

When I saw that Scarlett Johansson had partnered with Pete Yorn for a song in the beginning of the summer, I almost screamed (her first stint in music was just plain scary; "Falling Down" was ghastly). But I just had a semi-hesitant listen to "Relator," and guess what? My ears aren't bleeding!!! Actually, they're quite-- dare I say it?-- happy. What a pleasant surprise. The song's actually good. I still don't like the idea of Scarlett singing, though; it's just weird and her voice sort of reminds me of a ghost risen from the dead. On painkillers. So she should probably stop her music career now while she's ahead.

Eh, whatever. At least the song's good.

because twilight ruins everything.

2009-07-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

Bon Iver in the next Twilight movie?

Why???

Read my rant here.

the state of america these days.

2009-07-27T22:18:00.001-07:00

Really?

Can somebody please tell me why the Half-Blood Prince has been de-throned at the box office by a movie about undercover guinea pigs???

Or maybe why a movie about undercover guinea pigs was ever created in the first place?

Anybody?

newsflash: ginny weasley is kind of hot.

2009-07-27T12:03:00.000-07:00

As much as I love the movie, I can't help but grimace when I see Ginny mack on Harry in HP6. I mean, she's so painfully awkward throughout the whole thing, not to mention far from the confident, smokin' hot guy-magnet she's supposed to be.

So imagine my surprise when I discovered that under the pale, gangly, awkward exterior seen in the HP movies is a good-lookin' redhead just dying to get out. I know this is sort of random/late, but look how hot Bonnie Wright (Ginny Weasley) was at the London premiere of HP6 (below).

If they dolled her up like this for the movie,

I doubt her lovefest with Harry would be so strange.

Now, compare those with a still from the movie (below).

She looks like a 12-year-old girl in need of some serious UV rays.

I don't get it. Obviously, Ginny has some major potential... why couldn't they tap into it for the movie?

Here's to hoping they'll put a little make-up on her in the next two HP movies.

a decision, maybe.

2009-07-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

After a miserable year spent in doubt and indecision, desperately exploring alternatives (and thereby wasting a lot of time in worthless classes), and getting awfully close to the brink of my sanity, I've decided to go back.

To journalism.

(At least for now.)

So wish me luck.

"why is he always covered in blood?" - ginny weasley.

2009-07-16T10:55:00.000-07:00

Read my full review here.

asdfghjkl;'

2009-07-12T21:11:00.001-07:00

Two days.

wasssupppp?? i'm bruno.

2009-07-08T11:41:00.000-07:00

Bruno with his adopted African baby, OJ.

Saw an advanced screening of Bruno, became scarred for life. A little too much genitalia for my liking. But Sacha Baron Cohen is scarily believable as Bruno, and the situations they came up with are freakin' off-the-wall ridiculous. Funny, yes, but the kind of funny that makes you wince. (The movie has so many painfully uncomfortable/ awkward/ OMG moments that it actually hurts to sit through it.) But it definitely makes a point of revealing the absurdity of a lot of stereotypes, so I guess it has good intentions. They're just... thoroughly masked.

Read more of my thoughts on the movie here.

"mega watson."

2009-07-07T13:54:00.000-07:00

Made a Barnes and Noble run yesterday to pick up all the HP-related magazines on the stand, but could only find one, the August issue of Teen Vogue with Emma Watson (sadly, they didn't have the August issue of British Elle).

The verdict? Emma Watson is a freaking goddess.

Exquisite.

Teen Vogue always does amazing shoots of Emma (e.g. November 2005; Emma & the crew, June/July 2007), but this one tops them all. She just looks so... regal. Yet mysterious. And so much older/darker/more sophisticated (maybe it's her plum lipstick? the rich jewel-tone palette?), especially when comparing it to her 2005 issue (below).

Aw, she looks like a lil baby here.

The best part? She's quoted as saying, "There's nothing interesting about looking perfect." Right, Emma. Since you never look perfect.

Click here to see the whole delicious TV shoot.

ten days.

2009-07-04T23:25:00.000-07:00

It's finally (almost) here).

10. Ten. Diez.

I honestly don't think I can contain myself much longer.

Mugglenet's been tiding me over, which means I've read every Dan/Emma/Rupert interview on the planet. (Did you know Dan is dating someone? So weird to think of him in a relationship. With a girl. Taller than him. Who isn't Cho Chang. It makes me wince imagining how awkward they probably are together.)

But all I truly want is my much-awaited 2 hours and 33 minutes of unadulterated magical bliss. And I'll finally be able to have it in 10 days. So. Amped. Especially since Half-Blood Prince is my favorite of the series.

P.S. You're going to see a lot of Harry Potter-related posts in the next ten days. Deal with it.

P.P.S. Emma Watson's Burberry ad campaign??? Perfection.

complaining pays off. literally.

2009-07-03T13:11:00.000-07:00

Say no to United.

Unless they send you a $250 e-certificate...

I e-mailed United a long, angry letter the other day complaining about my hellish trip home from Seoul last week (read it below). I really didn't expect them to actually read it; it was more for therapeutic purposes (you bet I enjoyed writing it). But they read the whole thing, and sent me a reply addressing specific points that I mentioned. Better yet, they included a $250 apology. Score. Too bad now I have to fly United again. Oh well...

Dear United,

I am taking the time out of my busy life to e-mail you this complaint because of the sheer monstrosity of my trip from Seoul, Korea to Cincinnati, Ohio last week, which lasted from the morning of June 23 (KST) to midnight on June 25 (EST; a full twenty-four hours longer than scheduled), so I would thoroughly appreciate it if you would read this entire story.

It was a nightmare straight out of Twilight Zone. My trip from Seoul to LA went relatively smoothly, so I have no complaints about your international service. The hellish episode only began when I touched down in the states. First, I was forced to sit on my United 0748 (LA to Denver) flight for two plus hours on the ground at LAX due to weather problems in Denver. Nobody can blame Mother Nature for doing her thing, but this delay caused me to miss my United 6080 (Denver to Cincinnati) connection flight. Upon arrival at the Denver airport, I was thus forced to wait in the customer service line to re-book my flight, which would have been tolerable if I didn’t have to stand there for two and a half hours because there were only two (at times, one) customer service representatives attending the mile-long line of people at any given time.

Now, I wouldn't have gotten so frustrated if I were fresh and alert. But all of this happened after I had already flown halfway around the world from Seoul, Korea, with a stop in Tokyo. I was so exhausted I fell asleep in line (some stranger even took a picture of me sleeping, as I found out later). So imagine my exasperation when I finally reached the customer service desk and the lady at the counter told me there were no more flights to Cincinnati that night, I'd have to stay overnight at a hotel, and to top it all off, they wouldn't pay for it because it was weather. They re-booked me a flight for 1 p.m. the night day, but instead of a direct flight to Cincinnati, this one had a layover in Chicago (which would complete my world tour of layovers: Tokyo, Los Angeles, Denver, and Chicago). Despite my irritability, I took the pink hotel slip, called the reservation service, and paid for a night at a hotel out of my wallet.

I arrived at the Denver airport the next morning in relatively good spirits, refreshed and ready to go at approximately 11:00 a.m. But when I checked the departure screen, my mood took a sudden nose-dive. It said that my re-booked flight to Chicago had been delayed—yet again—to 2:22 p.m. And then again to 3:20 p.m. And then to 3:30 p.m. And then to 3:35 p.m. Because this meant I would miss my next connection, I had to get in the customer service line again and waste another good hour of my time in it. The customer service representative then told me matter-of-factly that I would miss my next connection and that there would be no open seat to Cincinnati until the next morning. At this point, I was near tears. Another night in Chicago? After a night in Denver? There was no way.

When I finally arrived in Chicago that night, guess where I was to be found? The customer service line. Again. Where I waited for another hour. After which the customer service rep repeated what the Denver rep told me: Sorry, no more flights to Cincinnati, you’ll have to stay another night in Chicago. At this point, I could do nothing but laugh at my luck. Somehow, though, I composed myself and demanded that they get me to ANY destination within driving distance of Cincinnati: Columbus. Dayton. Louisville. Even Cleveland. Eventually, I avoided the extra night in Chicago and ended up flying to Dayton on a plane with a broken air-conditioner, which, considering the 95-degree weather, made for a highly unpleasant trip (UA 7283). What’s more, my bags ended up in Cincinnati.

Upon arrival at the Dayton airport, I began to file a claim to have my bags delivered to my home, but the representatives informed me I could pick them up at the Cincinnati airport the next day, so I scrapped the claim and planned to drive to Cincinnati the next afternoon. Which I did (I should add that it takes a full hour to the Cincinnati airport from my home). But my nightmare hadn’t ended yet. At the baggage claim service, I was greeted (or not greeted) by a United representative so unfriendly, rude, and just plain mean that I was put in a state of disbelief. He treated me like I was the last thing on earth he wanted to see, nonetheless help. And help he didn’t. After looking up my baggage numbers, he told me that they had apparently arrived at CVG at 3 p.m. the previous day, however they were not to be found. And what did I want him to do about it? Can you believe it, United? After all you put me through? As I continually asked him where I could find my bags, he merely shrugged, scoffed at me, and acted like it was all my fault. He muttered something about “United not being liable” and went about his business, ignoring my pleas for help. Then, he prompted to leave his post, leaving me frustrated and clueless.

Luckily, I located another representative who helped me and located my bags (despite the fact that we cancelled our claim the previous night, the Dayton representatives had filed it and the bags were being delivered to my home).

But honestly, United, after reading this story (which you hopefully did), how could you blame me for never wanting to fly your airline again? All I wanted was to get home, but it took me 2.5 days, 6 airports, 5 hours of customer service lines, a night stuck in Denver, way too many unfriendly customer service representatives and a day spent looking for misplaced luggage to finally get there.

An unsatisfied customer,

Jennifer Lee

oh, city beat.

2009-07-02T20:59:00.000-07:00

The best e-mail you could possibly get from your boss:

Hello interns,

The office is closed on Friday (as in tomorrow). Take the day off and get drunk. Shoot off some fireworks. Just don't injure your pretty little hands, because you'll need all of your fingers to enter in listing next week.

After this, how could I ever go back to corporate?

you found me.

2009-06-30T12:39:00.000-07:00

Read my blog about last night's The Fray/Jack's Mannequin concert here.

I mean, if you want. Not forcing you to do anything here.

two worlds, one summer.

2009-06-30T11:37:00.000-07:00

The great thing about doing two internships in one summer is that you can compare and contrast. Especially when your internships couldn't possibly be more different.

Internship A: LG CNS, Korea. Multinational Corporate Headquarters.

Internship B: City Beat, Cincinnati. Local arts/entertainment/news weekly.

The moment I walked into the City Beat office last Friday, I felt a gigantic tsunami of relief. Goodbye, buttoned-up, middle-aged corporate execs. Goodbye, office hierarchy. Goodbye, 9-6. Hello, alternative work environment, young, tattooed employees, and bringing your dog to the office (I played with three dogs during my short, 4-hour shift).

They handed me over to the assistant music editor, this scrawny, fabulously hipster dude in his young twenties who talks like a washed-up hippie (he favors the words "like" and "totally, man") and is fittingly heading to Berkeley J-school in the fall (I wasted no time confessing my passionate feelings for Berkeley and subsequent jealousy of him). My current job is to update music listings (see what bands and artists are performing at local venues and clubs and add them to the website listings). Which sounds fun, theoretically speaking, until you realize it's just data entry.

Meh, whatever. At least it's not contract translations and I can wear cut-offs to work. Plus, I get to blog for the website, and ya'll know how much I love that.

oh, harry. what you do to me.

2009-06-21T06:55:00.000-07:00

It's T minus 24 days until the release of Half-Blood Prince, and I'm getting anxious. So far, I've restrained from indulging in any HP6-related promos, clips, trailers, etc. (in order to preserve the sanctity of the first viewing experience). But with less than a month left, my HP abstinence is beginning to tear at my insides.

Just looking at the poster gets me all tingly inside.

Last night, as I scrolled through FrontRow's collection of movie trailers, I got dangerously close to letting my primal instincts get the best of me (my mouse hovered for an extra few seconds over HP6).

So what did I do? Distract myself by watching (almost) every single movie trailer in FrontRow... except for HP. It wasn't as satisfying as watching the HP trailer would have been, but out of my painful devotion to Harry Potter blossomed a great opportunity to catch up on movies (considering the fact that I've been isolated from the world for the past... forever).

Here are a few that I can't wait to see this summer season (excluding HP, of course):

500 Days of Summer

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is delicious, and Zooey Deschanel is effortlessly cool, so this movie can only be deliciously, effortlessly cool. Right?? I love me an offbeat rom-com indie flick.

Adam

Another offbeat rom-com indie flick. Although this one bears uncanny resemblance to Dedication. I can never decide whether I like Rose Byrne or not; here's another chance for her to redeem herself.

If you know me at all, you know I'm a sucker for animated films. And I love Tim Burton. So naturally, I'm intrigued by this movie... although it admittedly does look way creepy (even for Burton).

Away We Go

More offbeat, rom-com indie flick fun. So sue me. Plus, John Krasinski... Enough said.

The Brothers Bloom

Con films are always fun. And I've had a quiet love affair with Adrien Brody ever since The Pianist, so.

Transformers 2

So I wasn't totally enthralled with the first movie, but this one looks kinda insane.

Public Enemies

I have an inkling that Johnny Depp might quite possibly be God.

current obsession: fashion blogs.

2009-06-19T08:59:00.000-07:00

Beautiful photography, sick fashion, day-to-day outfit logs (my fave), runway commentary, snazzy writing... what's not to love?

I've been a loyal follower of the Sartorialist for a while now, but after randomly stumbling upon some 15-year-old girl's amazing, sophisticated-beyond-her-years blog the other day (what was she raised on, tofu salads, nonfat lattes and Marni? more about her below), my fashion blog consumption has hazardously increased.

Some sites of interest:

1. http://www.fashiontoast.com/

Lots of pretty, pretty pictures and crazy, crazy fashion. The blogger basically posts a billion magazine-worthy, scenic, modelesque photos of herself. Definitely not the self-loathing type. But maybe I'd do the same if I looked like her. Her style's a tad bit over-the-top (bizarre shapes, sky-high platforms, dangerous-looking jewelry), but definitely interesting to look at.

2. http://childhoodflames.blogspot.com/

The 15-year-old I was talking about. So intrigued by her. Simple, understated, elegant. Perfect combination of vintage thrift store finds, mainstream Target/Forever21/H&M pieces and Nordstrom splurges. Also, she posts lots of creative DIY-stuff and fun collages. I think this might be my favorite one of the bunch (at least of the moment).

Hi. You are 15. And perfect. K.

3. http://tavi-thenewgirlintown.blogspot.com/

Had to include this because the blogger is... wait for it... twelve. As in twelve years old. Yeah, WTF?! Can you please enlighten me as to how a seventh grader is able to serve up sophisticated, edgy, educated commentary on runway looks, designer collections, and up-and-coming fashion trends? At her age, I think I was still wearing OshKosh. There's also an amusing Teen Vogue interview here if you're curious.

HAHA. You're 12. What is going on here.

my life in three years?

2009-06-18T07:21:00.000-07:00

Shopping, Thai food, and cocktails after work (at a tropically themed, sand-covered lounge sporting wooden swings as chairs): a not-so-bad glimpse into my future. There's nothing like an internship -- or what you do after-hours, anyway -- to give you a taste (pun always intended) of working life.

a letter to an old friend.

2009-06-15T08:28:00.001-07:00

Dear Asia,

You've been good to me these past few weeks, you really have. The shopping has been marvelous. The food, superb. And although I've occasionally had to question your intentions, you have (on the whole) been gracious to me, and I do appreciate it. But to be frank, I'm over you, and I would like a separation to commence. Immediately. (In other words: I WANT TO GO HOME!)

XOXO,

Your temporary prisoner

(But for just one more week!!!)

love me some (asian) gangsta.

2009-06-12T10:03:00.001-07:00

Title got you worried/confused? No need to fear, my friends. I haven't sold my soul to T-Pain or traded my flats for Air Force Ones... but Korea has. Sort of.

Apparently, Koreans have discovered their inner gangsta and they're not afraid to show it. Major area of exhibition: K-POP.

Everywhere I go, I'm followed/haunted by Korean pop music, which is blasted all over the place (in stores, restaurants, on the streets, etc.). A substantial number (like, all) of these K-Pop hits exemplify Korea's oddly entertaining love affair with all things hip-hop/gangsta. Three songs in particular will NOT leave me alone. The music videos take the cake. Watch them: I promise you will be entertained.

1. "Fire" by 2Ne1 - Would it be okay if I came back to the states looking like this? Because I'm really, really tempted.

2. "Lollipop" by Big Bang ft. 2Ne1 - What could POSSIBLY get better than this??? This video wins in so many ways... the neon outfits, the funkilicious glasses, the space-age hairdos... oh, and of course, the song itself.

3. "Diva" by After School - Love when they break out in rap. Also, love the ridiculously bouncy refrain ("diva!diva!didivadiva!"). Oh, and I almost forgot: their awesome outfits (the best part? I've seen actual people dressed like this on the streets).

Oh my Asian.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

2009-06-10T02:59:00.000-07:00

This is what I look like between the hours of 9 and 6.

Except without Pam lovingly gazing at me from behind.

I've never had a real job before, unless you count my 12-hour-a-week job at the library junior year (I barely survived 5 months), or my unofficial but nonetheless lucrative job tutoring grammatically deficient FOB kids ($20/hour will get you through anything), so my internship at LG CNS has been a wake-up call.

A huge, blaring, annoying wake-up call ( like one of these).

Monday through Friday, I find myself in an exhausting battle against a stale office environment (there's not a single family photo or happy color in sight), the mundaneness of my job, and the sheer monstrosity of the 9-hour work day. All day every day, I'm in the same exact place: sitting in my cubicle, staring at a computer screen, eyelids drooping, headache ensuing.

I can now say I've experienced what it's like to be stuck in a job that I hate-- and believe me, it's not fun.

So what's a suffering employee like me to do ? Lots of things, actually.

When times (at work) get tough... it's time to take action:

1. If I've learned one thing, it's that it's better not to fight extreme drowsiness. It will only result in you nodding off like a fool, typing unintelligible phrases (e.g. "lkajcorpoarte contsdactld adte"), and reading the same three words (overseas subsidiary management, overseas subsidiary management, overseas subsidiary management) over and over again. Instead, when your eyelids get heavy, slip out to the bathroom, put down the toilet cover, sit on the toilet (it's not that gross- I mean how many people a day do you think sit on the toilet cover?) and take a short nap. Toilet seat nap sessions can be conducted several times a day without anyone noticing (as far as I'm aware).

2. To moderately alleviate intense boredom, it can help to re-do your hair over and over again. My personal record is 6 hairstyles in a day (a lot can be done with bangs and long hair). Not sure how this will work for the short-haired/bald/male, however.

4. Bring lots and lots of snacks (the crunchier, the better) and eat them constantly. The persistent jaw movement and loud crunching noise will keep you alert. However, be prepared to gain a few pounds ... and lose a few office friends (hey, it's not like I had any in the first place).

5. Stock up on Listerine Pocket Paks/ Mouth Spray. The sinus-clearing, refreshing, tingly sensation is guaranteed to give you a burst of energy just when you need it (they didn't even pay me to write this!).

why, god, why???

2009-06-03T04:07:00.000-07:00

NOTEWORTHY EVENTS THAT MADE TODAY THE BIGGEST FAIL DAY... POSSIBLY EVER (actual accompanying monologue enclosed in parentheses)

1. Turn off painfully loud cell phone alarm: 7 a.m. Actually wake up: 7: 30 a.m. ("Shit.")

2. Spill Frosted Flakes while hurriedly pouring them into a bowl ("Dahhh!"), spill milk on my skirt while hurriedly stuffing my face ("..Really?"): 8: 07 a.m. Realize I was supposed to leave for the subway station seven minutes ago ("Damn it.")

3. Get my daily Americano from a coffee stand. Spill the burning-hot liquid onto my hand/forearm as I hurriedly walk to work. ("OWWWWWfuckkkkkk!")

4. Arrive at work 5 minutes late but decide that nobody cares. Down three more cups of coffee (black) in a 15-minute time span. Don't have as much luck with my fourth: 1/4 of it somehow ends up on my skirt. ("Shit.") Discover 2 Shout Wipes and 1 Tide-To-Go stick in my purse. Utilize Shout Wipe # 1.

5. Go out to lunch with 7 suits, 6 of them middle-aged and male (1 middle-aged and female). Have the time of my life.. not. Get some kimchi on my Longchamp. Utilize Shout Wipe #2 + Tide-To-Go stick.

6. Spend entire day staring at Korean business contracts/press releases that I'm somehow supposed to decode/translate into English. Get a headache. Put head in hands and let out exasperated sigh/groan just as the company VP walks by.

7. Get into elevator, look directly at the random man inside (suited business man, kinda familiar-looking, but then again he's Asian) and indifferently look away. As elevator stops on various floors, observe that everyone getting into the elevator practically shits his/her pants and breaks his/her back greeting/bowing (Korean custom) to him. Realize that he's probably someone important, I'm the only one who doesn't know who he is, and that he probably thinks I'm the scum of the earth. Then, observe his face smiling back at me-- on the flat screen inside the elevator, under the words LG CNS CEO. No wonder he looked familiar. Awesome!!!

7. Have dinner in a restaurant. Alone. ("THIS ROCKSSS!!!" Jk. Obviously, silence.)

8. Spill some bright red soup on my skirt. ("Great.") Utilize Tide-To-Go stick.

9. Spill some kimchi on my skirt. ("... Are you kidding me.") Utilize Tide-To-Go stick.

10. Decide I need some retail therapy. Get happy/calm looking at pretty things. See some really cute flats. Discover I only have $10 left in cash. The flats > $10. Die a little inside. Go home.

Lesson learned: Always carry a Tide-To-Go stick... and multiple Shout Wipes. (I think my poor skirt might have suffered more than I did.) Oh-- and lots of cash, because you never know when you'll need retail therapy.

fun facts about seoul.

2009-05-31T08:14:00.001-07:00

#1. It is impossible to save money here.

Everywhere you go, you are constantly bombarded by cute shoes and beautiful clothes... colorful jewelry and sparkly accessories... and lots and lots of shiny things. Vendors, boutiques, and stores line every street... there are even huge, underground shopping malls inside subway stations, for god's sake. Basically, it takes you 10x the time it should actually take to get from Point A to Point B because you just have to make so many stops (yes, you just have to).

Seoul steals money from innocent, law-abiding people.

#2. Everybody is skinny because getting anywhere via the subway requires so much goddamn effort.

So much walking. So many stairs. So much pain.

#3. Due to #2, Koreans allow themselves to indulge their sweet tooths/carb cravings (yet somehow still don't gain weight).

Joining the bazillion stores are the bazillion dessert shops/bakeries that fill the streets with the most tempting, delicious aromas (and lovingly call out my name wherever I go). I blame these miniature fatty paradises for my rapidly proliferating love handles.

They really love their carbs... maybe a little too much.

More fun facts to come...

um...

2009-05-29T22:59:00.000-07:00

My parents left for Japan this morning, which means I'm now all alone in Seoul. I've officially moved into my place (a foreigners' dorm at Korea University), unpacked, and organized my room...

Now what?

Oh, how I wish I had friends/a life. That would be nice.

(This is when you offer to come visit me. I'm living by myself in a double because they ran out of singles, so if you visit, there's a bed here waiting for you. Yes you. COME ON. PLEASE?!??!)

SONG OF THE DAY: "All By Myself" (Jewel)

P.S. If you aren't going to visit me in Seoul but are still hoping to continue our friendship, wait for me to come home to watch Up. I'm dying to see it, but it's not being released in Korea till July...

musical chairs, seoul style.

2009-05-28T06:40:00.000-07:00

During rush hour, the Seoul subway becomes a ruthless, unforgiving place. All notions of personal space are vanquished. Social etiquette is thrown out the window. Concern for others is forgotten.

Between the hours of 6 to 9 a.m. and 5 to 7 p.m., subway-goers transform into bloodthirsty savages, running, pushing and shoving their way onto trains-- or packed cans of sardines on wheels.

And when I mean packed, I mean booty-to-booty, face-squashed-into-random-sweaty-stranger's-back packed. If you ever want to... you know... get to know someone (nudge nudge), getting on the subway during rush hour is the way to go.

Not for those scared of intimacy.

Anyways, all that means it's nearly impossible to find an open space to sit down. And with so many people competing for a seat at every stop, the whole seat-finding process becomes a vicious, high-stakes game of strategy, foresight, and skill.

I hereby introduce SUBWAY MUSICAL CHAIRS.

How to play:
1. Immediately upon entering the train, quickly scan the area for an empty seat.
2. If there is an empty seat (psh, yeah right), push/shove people out of your way (dignity? what dignity?) and get your booty in said seat AS FAST AS POSSIBLE. In the inevitable case that there are no empty seats, swiftly navigate to the least crowded area.
2. After arrival at this spot, examine/rank all seated passengers in your vicinity in order of probability of impending disembarkment. Strategically place yourself in front of the ones you think are most likely to get up first.

Tips:
A passenger is not going to get up anytime soon if he/she is:
- watching Pirates of the Caribbean on a handheld device.
- watching a sappy Korean drama on a handheld device.
- reading a newspaper.
- talking/texting on a cell phone.
- listening to music with his/her eyes closed.
- looking around with a blank expression on his/her face.
- snoring and/or drooling.

A passenger is prob going to get up soon (so move in for the kill) if he/she is:
- holding his/her handheld device/cell phone, but not using it.
- holding his/her purse tightly (man-purses are cool here).
- clutching a folded-up newspaper.
- leaning slightly forward with his/her feet firmly planted on the ground.
- frequently checking his/her watch.
- staring determinedly in the general direction of the door... as if visualizing the most efficient exit route.

The game isn't so fun if you lose (standing for a 30-minute subway ride blows), but victory is so, so sweet.

why i'll never work corporate.

2009-05-25T06:41:00.000-07:00

So I'm interning at LG CNS (Korea) for a month this summer, and today was my first day. Coincidentally (or not), today was also the day I decided that I will never work in the corporate world.

Those horror stories you always hear about people having to work long hours in drab, isolated cubicles, in drab, desolate workplaces? They're TRUE.

Here's a quick synopsis of how my day went:

7:15 a.m. Wake up full of anger and hatred and frustration (nothing special; this is how I always wake up).
8:15 a.m. Get in a taxi.
8:55 a.m. Realize that traffic sucks in Seoul, and that I'm going to be late for my first day of work.
9:00 a.m. Arrive at LG-- miraculously NOT late.
9:15 a.m. Receive my work laptop and some pamphlets about LG CNS, their manufacturing systems, smart card payment systems, global development centers... yawn. Become acquainted with my drab, dreary cubicle.
9:16 a.m. - 11 a.m. Stare at my laptop/pamphlets. Discover that Facebook and Blogspot are blocked.
11 a.m.-12 p.m. Go out for dim sum (prob the only redeemable hour of the day).
12:01 p.m. - 6:15 p.m. Stare at my laptop/pamphlets. Valiantly attempt to ward off the frequent, overwhelming waves of boredom/sleepiness. Fail. Nod off every two minutes and then freak out that I'm going to be caught sleeping on my first day of work. Try to blend in with my cubicle walls to avoid detection. Curse the bright floral skirt I'm wearing. Stare at the clock. Wonder if I'm stuck in a time warp. Watch the minutes trudge by.
6:15-7:15 p.m. Attempt to take the subway home (which, for the time being, is my parents' hotel). Buy a subway charge card and FAIL at using it (end up having to crawl underneath the gate twice because I can't get my card to work. Go to the help desk and tell them my card is broken. Find out that my card isn't broken; I am.) Get lost 3 different times. Regret wearing heels. Decide that I will never attempt the subway during traffic hour ever again.

Basically, I don't know how I'm going to survive a whole month. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

oh, china. and cabbage patch hair.

2009-05-23T19:21:00.000-07:00

Blame my recent absence on the Chinese government. Or don't, so they don't come after me... and force feed me goose feet. Or scorpions on sticks. Or fried starfish. Or pig tongues. (All of which they eat.)

But seriously, as much as I wanted to blog during my stay in China (about their interesting menu entrees and aromatic toilets and the greatness of the Great Wall and such), I haven't been able to access my blog all week, thanks to their censorship-loving, blog-hating government. (They need to stop sippin' the haterade, man... peace and love.)

Sad.

But more about China later. Right now I'm a little preoccupied... considering

1. I'm currently sitting in a hair salon in Korea.
2. I now look like a Cabbage Patch kid, complete with straight-across-the-forehead, blunt-ass bangs. (November of junior year, anyone???) I SWEAR I didn't even ask for them. One minute, I was a regular person (with regular hair). The next minute, I was suddenly a Cabbage Patch kid. This is where my (lack of) Korean skills begin to bite me in the ass...
3. I start working at LG tomorrow. 9 - 6, every day for a month. This should be interesting...

For now, I'm going to go freak out some more about my newfound Cabbage Patch status.

finals? what finals?

2009-05-11T00:47:00.000-07:00

Things I did this weekend instead of study for finals:

1. Discover that I can fit comfortably inside a cardboard box.

2. Attempt to scare people on my floor by hiding inside said box, waiting outside their doors, and then popping out at them.

3. Fail to scare a single person by taking part in this activity (but enjoy it immensely nonetheless).

4. Run around forcibly placing said cardboard box on innocent, stressed-out people's heads.

5. Take pictures of Jenny wearing a scarf in as many different ways as possible (as a babushka... as a beard... etc).

6. Dress Jenny up as a hipster.

7. Conduct a photoshoot of Jenny dressed as a hipster.

8. Scavenge through a stranger's refrigerator.

9. Find enough minced garlic in said refrigerator to feed at least all of China in the aftermath of a global disaster... and then (of course) take pictures with it.

10. Discover that in closed quarters, people tend to flock to the place farthest from where Jenny and I are located. Also, discover that people who do not know me assume that I am permanently intoxicated.

11. Learn that I fail at building pyramids, but excel in the artistic component of pong.

12. Take starry-eyed lover photos with Jenny to rival those of ____ and _____.

13. Escape a potential underwear-sniffing, Level-5 creepster who tried to get me to share his storage space at the A-American Storage facility. ("Oh, I thought you were my son's friend." Right. And I mistook you for Brad Pitt.)

14. Surprise-attack people with my roommate's Chinese back massage contraption under the pretense of giving them hugs.

15. Consume my last, glorious In-'n-Out meal of the year. (And then experience foodbaby- induced labor pains.)

16. Have a nice long chat with an EVK chef about the significance of churro Sundays and chicken nugget Tuesdays.

17. Take a "Which Sailor Moon Character Are You?" quiz after hearing rave reviews from Jenny and Steph (Venus, if you were wondering).

18. Get back in touch with my piano-playing roots.

19. Run down the halls with Jenny maniacally soaking everyone in sight with a squirt gun ( the one that was hanging from the bathroom door) again.. and again... and again. (Pretty sure it got really old really fast for most involved.)

20. Decide that I may, in fact, miss this place after all.

Because obviously, I had nothing better to do than hide in boxes outside people's doors.

oh, how I love EVK... and the marching band.

2009-05-06T22:12:00.001-07:00

I found this brilliant Trojan Vision video about EVK (the dining hall) on Facebook today and felt the need to share it. (If you read my "10 things prospective students should know about USC" post, you should know how I feel about the dire dining situation here at USC.)

Oh, EVK. How I'll miss you next year (not).

P.S. Whoever thought of Primal SCream should be hanged. (In true Trojan fashion, every word containing the adjoined letters "SC" must be exploited to show school spirit.) For you non-USC kids: Primal SCream is a supposed form of exam-week stress alleviation that involves a) the marching band, b) 20-30 minutes of excruciating, unbearable noise every night of finals, and c) lots of inescapable pain and misery. Otherwise known as... DEATH BY MARCHING BAND.

reasons why i will never be a housewife.

2009-05-05T17:09:00.001-07:00

1. I fail at cleaning. See picture below.

My mom would be so proud.

2. I fail at washing dishes. My entire stock of kitchenware is piled up on my desk, filled with the ghosts of cereals past. Accordingly, I never have a clean bowl/plate/utensil on hand, which, as it turns out, proves to be extremely inconvenient whenever I experience the desire to eat something (a desire that I experience quite frequently). Nevertheless, it never strikes me to actually wash them.

Sad, neglected bowls. If bowls could clamor, they'd be clamoring for a bath.

3. For the life of me, I cannot figure out the damn laundry machine. You would think that a whole year of doing laundry by myself would have made me into a washing-and-drying-pro, but alas, this is not the case.

Various ways in which I have failed at laundry this year (just a representative sample):

1st fail (initiating laundry experience back in September): Did an entire load of laundry without help. Proceeded to become euphoric with pride and satisfaction, thinking that I passed the first test of collegiate independence. Soon realized that I forgot detergent. Had to do it all over again with head lowered in shame.

2nd fail: Put detergent into wrong compartment. Poured another cup full of detergent into the right compartment. Panicked that the excess detergent would cause machine to explode. Machine did not explode, but clothes turned out suspiciously smooth and silky (probably because there was leftover detergent all over them).

3rd, 4th, 5th fails: Stuffed too many clothes in the dryer. Had to run the drying machine multiple times to dry entire load.

6th fail (today, 8 months or so after my first fail): Spotted someone's Downy in the laundry room. Decided it must be my lucky day. Poured a generous cup full into the detergent compartment. Soon thereafter, realized that Downy is actually not detergent, but fabric softener.

Good thing housewifery has never been in my plans for the future.

you know the world of academia isn't right for you when...

2009-05-04T14:01:00.001-07:00

... all you can think about during a prestigious leadership luncheon/discussion about journalism, communication, and new forms of social media is not the future of the news, or the cultural implications of online media, or possible business models for the journalism industry, but how you would much rather be at home playing Meerca Chase II on Neopets.

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.

it's a zoo in here. literally.

2009-05-03T16:15:00.000-07:00

I've witnessed/experienced so many bizarro things this year that I've learned not to question anything.

For example: I've had a homeless-looking man sketch me on the LA Metro (see picture below)... a homeless-looking man spit on me on the street... a homeless-looking man compliment me on my nails (verbatim: "I like your sexy black nails, mama")... You get the point.

Call me a sketchball for taking this picture, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't the sketchball in this situation. And that bike? The purple kid's bike with sparkly streamers and 3 different locks attached to it? Yup. That would be his (my portraitist's) bike.

I don't even raise my eyebrows anymore in reaction to the random, weird things that seem to occur with alarming frequency in my life/on campus/in LA... like the gigantic, useless foam parties that materialize at random times in the middle of the Quad (pictured below)... or the strange items I often discover in even stranger places, like the squirt gun I found hanging from the bathroom door several days ago (it's still there; also pictured below).

I actually walked into a clump of bubbles on my way to Spanish.

Someone is apparently stockpiling weapons in the women's bathroom.

But somehow, I was still taken aback when I saw what I saw in the Leavey Library fountain the other day: two frattilicious guys standing knee-deep in the water, playing with a tiny, adorable little pet duckling as if they were a gay couple spending a day in the park with their adopted child. (Let me remind you that USC, which is located in downtown LA, is not exactly vibrant with wildlife.) It might not compete with the sketchball on the LA Metro, but it was by far the cutest "WTF" thing I've seen all year.

Yes, I out-sketchballed myself and took a pic of them. (Blue Shorts is holding the duckling.) I wanted to get another picture of it swimming in the fountain, but people were already starting to look at me questioningly, so I decided against taking more pictures and promptly fled the scene.

Apparently, the New/North dorms (AKA the party dorms, which, like all dorms, outlaw pets, but which are constantly filled with such foul, unidentifiable odors that you could probably hide not only pets, but decomposing bodies, in there) are currently home to the following creatures: the aforementioned duckling, two turtles, a kitten, and a hedgehog.

I mean, I'm all for whimsical, illegal dorm pets, but really? A hedgehog?

Why would anyone even want a hedgehog?

if you ever need to seek sweet, sweet revenge...

2009-05-01T19:15:00.001-07:00

Present your victim with a platter of Atomic Chicken Wings from WingStop. Or, if you're the type that derives pleasure from excruciating, tear-inducing pain, eat them yourself.

Deceivingly tasty-looking yet mind-numbingly painful, these little fuckers could probably replace waterboarding as America's go-to form of torture.

After just one bite of these satanic little wings, I was almost in tears. Jenny was forced to submerge her face into a tub of ice cream. And after a few (she's obviously one of those masochistic types I was talking about), Felicia proceeded to make sounds I've never heard her make before (and never knew she was capable of making).

Since I'm a) not white and b) Korean, I'm pretty sure you can trust me on this one.

obviously, i win at college.

2009-05-01T17:04:00.000-07:00

College is supposed to heighten your academic standards and push you to achieve at a level befitting the expectations of higher education, right? Wrong.

Case in point:

I just finished and turned in a term paper 20 minutes after the deadline- a deadline that was already extended by almost two weeks. Lacking black ink/the time to find someone with black ink, each page of said paper was printed in a different color: purple, red, blue, grey, and faded combinations of all of the above. And on top of all this, since I obviously couldn't print any additional copies, I fixed the typos I found in bright blue gel pen. Can anyone say epic failure?

This atrocity is just the cherry on top of a gigantic, fatty-sized ice cream sundae of term paper-related failures that occurred this week.

If you'd like some evidence, let's play a fun game called Find The Errors I Discovered In My Term Papers... After Turning Them In. In case you are even more of a pathetic failure than I am, I bolded them to help you out.

1. both had their minds on one goal, the ver same goal that

In Spanish, ver is a word. Sadly, in English, such is not the case.

2. Many of these societal fears and anxieties were expressed in dystopian science fiction films like The Sixth Day (2000). In The 6th Day, Roger Spattiswoode explores

Two different movies, or blatant failure? I'm gonna say... blatant failure.

3. the clones were initially raised in terrible conditions, treated them as sub-human, and

Grammar at its finest. Can you believe I came into college as a Print Journalism major?

4. in response to rapid innovations in medical technologies as genetic engineering and cloning

This is just stupid.

5. Indeed, persuasion s an incredibly important element of human communication

Another important element of human communication? Completing your words. Oh, the irony!

... And these were just the few that I noticed.

Obviously, I spent a lot of time on these papers.
Obviously, I read them before I turned them in.

Obviously, I take my college education very seriously.

erm... is that even a major?

2009-04-30T12:34:00.000-07:00

"There are too many people who choose their majors and their careers based on what their parents want, what their friends say is good, and they end up realizing at forty-two years old that they hate their lives. Don't do that. Follow your own passion. Your passion is what makes you the happiest, what you're an expert in, what you spend all your time doing and thinking about, what you love the most."

- Professor Ken Sereno (Comm. 200)

... Looks like I'm in for a prosperous career in Harry Potter.

Speaking of which... I've been driving myself mad in my efforts to avoid Half-Blood Prince exposure (set photos, trailers, sneak peeks, etc.). It's really quite difficult when you spend as much time as I do on mugglenet.com (and I say this with no shame).

But it will all be worth it come July 15th.

So, so worth it.

New photo from Empire Magazine...

Does anyone else get the sneaking suspicion that Dan is turning into a vampire?

for anyone considering coming to USC.

2009-04-28T11:19:00.000-07:00

It's college decision crunch-time for a bunch of seniors, so I thought this was appropriate.

10 Things Prospective Students Should Know About USC

(Before Sending In Their $300 Deposit)

1. It's called the University of Spoiled Children for a reason. (If you don't know what "Citizens" are, don't own an iPhone or a Blackberry, and/or think "True Religion" is the title of a spiritual self-help book, do yourself a favor and go to state college instead.)

2. It's also called the University of South Central for a reason. (Here, not even frat bros are too manly for pepper spray.)

3. If standing for 4+ hours in a colossal solar oven, repeatedly being obliged to do the SoCal spell-out (really? must we spell out the inanely long "Southern California".. again?) while watching brute-like men throw themselves at each other as if in some Neanderthal homoerotic fantasy does not sound like your idea of sheer and total bliss, you will not survive football season. Or if you do survive, you will come out of it a weaker, sadder, sorrier person.

Did I really pay $160 for this?

4. USC is located on a very small, trapezoidal-shaped, ghetto-locked piece of land. This virtually guarantees that its students live in a tiny, insulated bubble. Accordingly, on the extremely rare instances that you will see puppies, small children, and/or people from the outside world, you will freak the hell out.

USC's small, trapezoidal campus is comfortably cushioned on all sides by... South Central.

5. #4 also guarantees that if you ever need to avoid anyone, which you inevitably will, you will fail at doing so. Encounters of the most excruciatingly awkward nature thrive beautifully at USC.

6. If you are a girl who also happens to be a normal human being, USC will take your self-esteem and break it into millions of little pieces. If you do not have at least 1-2 full hours each morning to devote to perfecting your immaculate, boho-meets-hipster-meets-LA-chic look, don't even bother. You might as well affix a paper bag onto your head before going out in public. (Unless you're a science major, in which case this does not apply.)

USC: an army of Lauren Conrads...

... and bohemian/hipster, Urban Outfitters catalog types.

7. There are only two dining halls. EVK, the one you will most likely frequent, serves approximately three edible items per day: marinara pasta, pizza, and salad-- or "my daily meal of noodles and leaves," according to EVK regular/hater Nitasha R. (I should, however, concede that EVK does occasionally show faint glimmers of humanity, e.g. their grill and fondue days.)

8. If you live around the Quad (and most freshmen do), you will be woken up and driven to violent and/or suicidal thoughts on random Sundays by terrible "rock," "rap," and occasionally "Christian" concerts, none of which are actually attended by more than 3 people, yet all of which persist intolerably for at least 6 grueling hours.

9. Whether you want it or not, USC will provide you with a quality classical education... in Greek life. Not only will you learn the Greek alphabet, you will also be able to name and describe every sorority and fraternity in existence, possess the lowdown on every invite, exchange, and/or frat party that is going on at all times, and acquire the highly intellectual skill of being able to sort girls into their respective sororities by the color of their tote bags (and frat guys by their bro shades).

DG- and I didn't even need to cheat!

10. The Spirit of Troy (the marching band) and their head-splitting, maddeningly repetitive tunes will haunt you forever, no matter where you go. Even if they're not blasting the fight song right outside your dorm, rest assured that they will always find you (they've cropped up in such unlikely places as American Idol, the Grammys, and my worst nightmares).

*Note to any humorless, SoCal spell-out loving, USC-adoring readers I have undoubtedly angered: Don't get angry. This was all written in good humor. Obviously, USC isn't an entirely useless, blinged-out intellectual wasteland.

i think i just sold my soul.

2009-04-27T17:32:00.000-07:00

So I'm gathering my stuff to leave Comm 339 this afternoon when, in my peripheral vision, I see this random kid in my class walking towards me.

To help you better imagine the situation, here's a short rundown:

Appearance: Tall, built, short brown hair. Wears fitted v-necks, mostly in dark colors, and designer jeans (today, they're Seven). Possesses the "I'm paying $40k a year to go here, but who gives a shit, I'm taking over my dad's company anyways" attitude of the typical moneyed 'SC kid.

Class attendance: Sporadic. Most likely a senior.

Class participation: Minimal. Pretty sure his most noteworthy moment in class occurred when he fell out of his chair on accident.

Smart phone of choice: Blackberry.

... You get the picture.

So anyways, as I see him approaching me, I'm slightly confused, because while our class is pretty small (20, 25 kids?), he and I have had no previous history of conversation.. or even mutual acknowledgment.

Me: (looking blankly at him)

Him: Hi. Um. Can I.. pay you for your class notes??

Me:

Him: You obviously pay attention and participate more than, like, anyone in this class, and you seem to do all the readings, and I mean, I don't do anything, so I'll pay you for your notes. How much do you want? Whatever sounds reasonable... Thirty bucks?

Me: (thinking how funny it is that he thinks I do the readings) Uhh... I really don't take that great of notes, I mean... they're pretty basic. (they are)

Him: I'm sure they're perfect. (it is quite obvious by this point that this kid is going to epically fail the final without my notes, and I almost feel bad for him.) Does thirty bucks sound good??

Me: Uh... (thinking I could probably jack up the price if I wanted to...)

Him: Like, I'd really appreciate it.

Me: (internally laughing at how pathetic this guy is) Sure, okay..

So he types in my phone number on his Blackberry, and we plan to talk later. Meanwhile, I'm beginning to ponder:

1. Whether he expects me to photocopy forty pages of notes for him... (fat chance).

2. How I can best blackmail him in the case that I let him borrow my notebook... and he doesn't give it back.

But he didn't give me much time to think it over. Because one hour later, after randomly running into him outside my dorm (I'm telling you, this place really is too small), I'm handing this virtual stranger my PRECIOUS notebook, containing an entire semester's worth of notes, in exchange for a crumpled up twenty. (He promised to give me the last $10 when he gives me back my notebook, which, when you think about it, makes absolutely no sense... but somehow sounded okay to me at the time.) Can you say SKETCHY?

Sure, it might be just a notebook. But I feel like I've just sold my soul (which, apparently, is only worth $20). Plus, I'm 85% certain that he is going to steal, lose, or desecrate it in some way or another.

Which basically means I'm fucking screwed.

10 surefire ways to sever ties with your roommate.

2009-04-25T15:49:00.000-07:00

In light of my recent promise to Felicia (the roommate) to dedicate my next post to her... here are 10 guaranteed ways to tick off your college roommate (all in good fun, of course), inspired by a year of hilarious (or not so hilarious) roommate exchanges.

1. Make disparaging comments about everything your roommate puts on as she gets ready in the morning. Example: (Roommate puts on a shirt.) "Uh... are you sure you want to wear that?" (Roommate tries on a different shirt.) "HAHAHA" (Roommate begins to get angry.) "Just leave it on.. I don't think anything could improve this situation."

2. Stand right behind your roommate and read what she's typing, as she's typing it, over her shoulder... whenever she's trying to write a paper.

3. Frequently lock yourself out of the room. Your roommate will be forced to open the door for you so many times that she'll either begin to check for you whether you have your card before you or she leaves the room (if she's nice), or accumulate feelings of spite against you and begin to purposefully lock you out every time you leave the room, even if you're just going to the bathroom (if she's REALLY nice).

4. Mount/jump on your roommate every time she is lying on her bed attempting to do work/sleep/rest. Scream "MOUNT!!!!" every time you do so.

5. Buy a bag of Naked Pita Chips. Proceed to eat them loudly and in rapid succession right next to your roommate as she attempts to fall asleep. Remember to crinkle the bag each time you reach for more chips to ensure that you reach your maximum volume potential.

6. Blast "The Call" by the Backstreet Boys on surround sound speakers at least once every one or two weeks, and make sure to put the song on repeat.

7. Every time your roommate changes clothes, enthusiastically egg her on. Example: (Roommate begins to unzip her pants) "Yeah, (insert name here)!!!! Take it all off!!!"

8. Sing along to everything, even songs inside your head. When your roommate begins to sigh in annoyance, you know it's time to increase the volume and add an interpretive dance routine.

9. Every time your roommate opens the refrigerator, tell her that she's fat. Example: (Roommate opens the refrigerator) "You're fat."

10. Laugh and point at your roommate as she struggles (in vain) to get up each morning for class, and then struggles (in vain) to locate her glasses. Invite all of your friends over to watch your roommate get up in the morning, promising "the best twenty minutes of your life."

*I am personally guilty of committing only acts 3, 8, and occasionally 9. As for the rest... yup, you guessed it...all Felicia.

#4. Mount your roommate whenever she's trying to do work on her bed. For added enjoyment, take over her MacBook and start taking obnoxious Photobooth pictures.

in other words, i'm a softie.

2009-04-24T10:49:00.000-07:00

As I was thinking morbid thoughts, conspicuously but unapologetically (front and center, baby) doodling the words "SAVE ME NOW" in various fonts and sizes all over my handouts, and downing my milky coffee while sitting through my intolerable Comm 200 discussion this morning, I came upon the following conclusion:

California (and college) has made me soft.

Proof:

1. A lifelong black-coffee-only person, I now take milk with my coffee.

2. I flip a shit when it's anything less than 75 degrees outside.

3. I have nostalgic thoughts about Ohio and high school, two things I used to abhor, at least once a day.

So yeah. It's true what they say: Socal makes you soft.

In other news, every Angeleno should pick up a copy of LA Weekly's People 2009 issue, because it's freaking sweet. Anybody who is ANYBODY in L.A. is profiled in it, it's super well-written and designed, and it features some amazing photography.

Who doesn't love pretty pictures?

hello, world.

2009-04-23T13:06:00.000-07:00

Today, I finally succumbed to the epidemic that is the blog.

It might've been L.A.'s recent, weirdly Ohio-like shifts in temperature (Monday, it was a hellish 99 degrees; today, it's a frigid- in the Socal sense of the word, of course- 68), which have put me in a panicky state of disorientation and emotional trauma. (Getting dressed in the morning has never been so stressful... Strapless sundress or fur-lined parka? Flip-flops or suede moccasins?? OH GOD, TAKE ME NOW!!!)

Left: Me on Monday. Right: Me today. Basically.

Or, come to think of it, it could have also been the freakishly healthy, suspiciously squirrel-food-esque Trio bars (the package reads: Vegan/0g Trans Fat/Kosher/No Additives/No Cholesterol/Free of Gluten, Dairy, Wheat, GMO...ew) that my ever-considerate mother (for more information, check out www.mymomisafob.com) recently shipped me in bulk and that, after hesitantly nibbling this morning, left me feeling very confused.

Nutritious snack, or food for the bushy-tailed? We will never know.

In all reality, though, this blog can probably owe itself to the fact that I have three 10-12 page term papers due next week, only one of which I've started, and have thus entered into that ever-familiar phase of procrastination in which you're so deep in denial that you start having the illusion that you don't have anything better to do with your time than, say, create blogs or watch marathons of Millionaire Matchmaker (or worse, Spanish-language infomercials).

Who watches this? Oh wait, I do.

...I don't even speak Spanish.

This might not make much sense to you, but that's why I'm a failure at life and you're not. (www.fmylife.com, anyone?)

Whatever the reason, the urge to start blogging hit me today like that school bus that comes out of abso-freaking-lutely nowhere and hits Regina at the end of Mean Girls. And, choosing not to question inspiration's strange and mysterious ways (did you know it could come in the form of squirrel food?), I obeyed.

Happy birthday, blog.