The State of the Wrah-Wrah.

That Asian-Looking Chick 2 Comments

Good morning! The purpose of today’s post is to update you on the state of the Wrah-Wrah.

For those of you who are new here, Ronnie James, aka the Wrah-Wrah, is the elder of our two little boy cats. We adopted them in France and moved them with us to the States, and now, after being here for about a year and a half, they’re both meowing in English… well, this is true for Nounours. Ronnie James does not actually meow. He talks. In English. He often says, wrahwrahwrahwrahwrah, wrah-wrah!

One More Thing you should know about the Wrah-Wrah is that his namesake is Ronnie James Dio:

 

Ronnie James with my headphones on the left. Ronnie James Dio with his mic on the right. NOT UNLIKE.

Ronnie James with my headphones on the left. Ronnie James Dio with his mic on the right. NOT UNLIKE.

 

One More Thing #2: in addition to talking to us, the Wrah-Wrah loves cuddles, kisses, being held and being with us – as in, physically right next to us – more than any kitty I’ve ever known.

Now for the update!

A few months ago I’d talked about how Ronnie James was diagnosed with asthma. His condition has been worsening despite his inhaler treatments, so the day after we returned from California over Thanksgiving break, we took him back to the doctor. A second chest X-ray revealed shadowy areas on his lungs that completely obscured his heart, whereas in his X-ray of three months ago, his heart was visible. This latest X-ray looked worse than bad. It looked horrible, and I spent the weekend talking myself back down from the edge of despair. But I kept hearing the doctor’s voice. It looks like it could be something attached to his heart, she’d said. Or growths….

It goes without saying that you never want to hear the word “growths” come out of the doctor’s mouth when looking at your baby’s chest X-ray.

So we were relieved to hear the official X-ray analysis and Ronnie James’ diagnosis two days later. He has “collapsed lung and consolidated lung,” a complication of his asthma, apparently. His right lobe is collapsed, along with part of his left lobe. The consolidation aspect means that there’s something in his lungs other than air – indicating, likely, fluid. While none of this is happy news, it’s certainly better than “something attached to his heart” or “growths.”

I don’t have the pictures of his insides to show you this time, so here are some recent photos of him on the outside:

 

Le petit Wrah-Wrah!

Le petit Wrah-Wrah!

 

Wrah-Wrah in his favorite dragon stance on his Mommy's foot.

Wrah-Wrah in his favorite dragon stance on his Mommy’s foot.

 

Oh, yeah… Ronnie James is a dragon.

 

Ronnie James on the left. Night Fury from "How to Train Your Dragon" on the right. NOT UNLIKE.

Ronnie James on the left. Night Fury from “How to Train Your Dragon” on the right. NOT UNLIKE.

 

Ronnie James on the left, Night Fury from How to Train Your Dragon on the right. NOT UNLIKE.

Ronnie James on the left, Night Fury from How to Train Your Dragon on the right. NOT UNLIKE.

 

We were told that Ronnie James’ lungs will never be normal again. I read online that kittens and very young cats can have their collapsed lungs re-inflated in special chambers, but the Wrah-Wrah is ten, so that is not an option for us. What we’re doing is we’re minimizing the trauma with diligent, increased application of his inhaler treatments, and at the moment, we’re also going after any infection that might be present and causing the consolidation of his lungs. The day of his diagnosis, he received an antibiotic injection, and we launched a 14-day course of other antibiotics. I placed a double order of Fluticasone inhalers for his daily dosages (now twice daily), and he has his Albuterol inhaler for rescue situations.

We are lucky. We have a wonderful doctor at the University Animal Hospital, which is the best clinic in town. We have a wonderful overseas pharmacy that offers free shipping. Ronnie James has a wonderful Auntie to take care of him when we’re out of town (which we minimize as much as possible). And Callaghan working as a freelancer means that he’s able to be home with the Wrah-Wrah all day, which is a blessing because the Wrah-Wrah is the happiest when he’s with us, and if he needs his rescue inhaler, his Daddy is here with him.

One more thing… Ronnie James’ blood-work came back showing that his thyroid counts are even higher than before. He hadn’t tolerated his liquid thyroid medication well, so we had our local Diamondback Drugs –another amazing pharmacy! – compound his medication into a gel that we rub onto the inside of his ear once a day. This method of drug administration for kitties is revolutionary, friends, which you can imagine if you’re at all aware of the difficulties of giving kitties their oral meds.

That’s it for the update… thanks for reading and for your support. Ronnie James says “wrahwrahwrahwrah!!”

Happy Friday, All!

What I’m Digging Right Now – November Favorites

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November favorites are here! Let’s get right into it and start with food, shall we?

1). KeVita sparkling probiotic drink in strawberry acai coconut.

 

KeVita! Doesn't that word make you want to dance?

KeVita! Doesn’t that word make you want to dance?

 

Let’s just say that ever since a friend introduced me to this softly fizzy, mildly fruity and lightly sweet probiotics drink, I’ve considered probiotics to be my spirit animal.

 

2). Mrs. May’s All Natural Cashew Crunch.

 

Mrs. May's All Natural Cashew Crunch slow dry-roasted snack (original flavor)

Mrs. May’s All Natural Cashew Crunch slow dry-roasted snack (original flavor)

 

Guys, I stumbled upon this sweet, healthy and wholesome snack at Ross a few weeks ago and literally squealed with delight. I used to go to the airport just to buy this, since I couldn’t find it anywhere else. It’s been years since I’ve indulged my addiction to it, and I’d actually forgotten about it until I found it by accident again. Love.

 

3). Garlic from Gilroy.

 

All hail to the garlic from Gilroy!

All hail to the garlic from Gilroy!

 

We pass through the town of Gilroy when we drive to San Jose, California, and this last time, when we went for Thanksgiving, we stopped and picked up a bunch of garlic from the side of the road. Gilroy is the garlic capital of the world, or something like that, and I’m here to testify that garlic from Gilroy is a whole ‘nother species of garlic from its supermarket cousins. Mounds of garlic sautéed in olive oil and piled on pasta never tasted so good!

 

4). Kashi Go Lean Vanilla Graham Clusters cereal.

 

Kashi Go Lean Vanilla Graham Clusters cereal

Kashi Go Lean Vanilla Graham Clusters cereal

 

Here’s another Go Lean cereal flavor that captured my everlasting affection. When I took my first bite, the first thing I thought was Lucky Charms! Okay, it doesn’t actually taste like Lucky Charms, but it does remind me of them, vaguely, or enough, anyway, for it to trigger all the good memories from my childhood. With 11 grams of protein per serving, you really can’t go wrong with this. It is delightful with almond milk. Do recommend!

 

5). Vega protein smoothie powder in Viva Vanilla.

 

Vega protein smoothie in Viva Vanilla

Vega protein smoothie in Viva Vanilla

 

I’m really not a vanilla fanatic… it’s coincidental that there are two vanilla-flavored favorites on my list this month. It just kind of happened that way. The Kashi cereal brings memories of Lucky Charms, and this plant-based protein powder right here whirled up in the Nutribullet with plain, cold water? Tastes like vanilla ice cream! It’s not terribly high in protein, since it’s the smoothie mix rather than the actual protein powder (Vega makes both)… but you get 15 grams of protein in only 80 calories in that little glass of vanilla ice cream-tasting goodness. Drinking a serving of this is my favorite way to add a low-calorie shot of protein to my day.

Let’s move on to products!

 

6). CeraVe PM Facial Moisturizing Lotion for normal to dry skin.

 

CeraVe PM Facial Moisturizing Lotion for normal to dry skin

CeraVe PM Facial Moisturizing Lotion for normal to dry skin

 

I picked this up because I needed a basic moisturizer to use after those times I take an early evening shower (post-workout), not wanting to put on a thick, rich night cream until right before bed, but I was hooked after first use, and I haven’t used anything else at night ever since. My thick, rich night cream has been collecting dust. I should probably start using it again, too… I’m a fan of layering products… but just saying. This lotion by CeraVe is pretty amazing stuff.

 

7). Cover Girl Ready, Set, Gorgeous Foundation.

 

Cover Girl Ready, Set Gorgeous! in 115

Cover Girl Ready, Set Gorgeous! in 115

 

I really don’t know why I bought this in the first place… I didn’t need it, since I’d recently purchased (and featured on a “favorites” list) a foundation by L’Oreal. I think it caught my eye one day and I remembered that I’d read rave reviews about it, and it just looked so small and cute and innocuous, like, what harm can come from trying me?  Whatever the case, it’s my new favorite. Not only has it kicked L’Oreal out of its spot on my list of favorite foundations, but I’ve also stopped using my Benefit concealer since I discovered that I can spot-apply this as a cover-up, too. It layers really well, feels great, lasts all day and doesn’t cost much.

And finally, entertainment…

 

8). Nightcrawler (film)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-nightcrawlermovie

 

Jake Gyllenhaal. Jake Gyllenhaal in a gritty, dark, intelligent film. We saw this on Veteran’s Day, and it struck us as brilliant on many levels. Does Jake ever choose projects we don’t like? Come to think of it, no, but we found this film to be especially compelling.

 

9). John Wick (film)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-johnwickmovie

 

Okay, now, this, folks, is what film-candy is made of, and finally, unbelievably, here’s an action flick that managed to restore my faith in Keanu Reeves. Loved it.

 

10). Miranda Sings.

 

Who makes me laugh, besides Callaghan? This girl right here! Miranda Sings.

Who makes me laugh, besides Callaghan? This girl right here! Miranda Sings.

 

I started watching Miranda Sings videos and immediately found myself semi-obsessed with her music videos, so when she came to Tempe to perform in November, I had to drop everything and scour Craigslist for tickets to her sold-out show. This girl is freaking hilarious! Go watch her videos!! Here, I’ll get you started:

 

 

Now, let’s see what December brings!

Thanksgiving.

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T minus 24 hours to road trip to California!

I was thinking the other day that not having human kids means that I’ll never have to feel like the Grinch who stole Thanksgiving when my kid comes home from school brimming over with warm and fuzzy stories about the “history” of “the first Thanksgiving” and I find myself unable to keep from explaining the truth behind the myth. If schools could just limit Thanksgiving holiday festivities to cute finger turkey drawings, then fine, but somehow, I don’t see them omitting the fables of the “Pilgrims and the Indians” being BFFs on “the first Thanksgiving” anytime soon.

That bit of cynicism aside, one thing that’s remained true about Thanksgiving over time is its focus on expressing gratitude for a bountiful harvest, which has broadened to include giving thanks for everything that we have, including our good health and each other. This is the aspect of the holiday that appeals to me the most – its focus on family.

Thanksgiving is this week Thursday, and we’re going to be spending it with my family. When I lived in France, I missed the comfortable proximity to my family more on Thanksgiving than at any other time. You always hear people saying, we should give thanks and express gratitude for our families every day, not just on Thanksgiving, and I agree with this, but still… Thanksgiving.

And I’m feeling so grateful for my family… the family that chose me, the one that I’ve chosen and the one that I inherited just by being alive.

We all have family, even if we think we don’t. If your circumstances are such that your actual family members are absent in the world, if you feel isolated and friendless, as long as there are people in the world, you have family.

In Hawaii, you’ll find this concept expressed openly and naturally by the locals, as the family mentality is a part of the local culture. If you’re walking along the beach and a child is playing in your path, it’s likely that the adult sitting nearby will call to the child, with firm affection, “Come over here, Bobby… let Auntie pass.” And you’ll look over at the parent to find him smiling and nodding at you with respect. Auntie. Think of it! A total stranger will see you coming and say to his child, let Auntie pass. (Yes, this happened to me.)

You are family. We’re all family. Humankind is a human family, and I believe this to be true: When there’s injustice in the world, we have to remember that we’re all brothers and sisters, and we have to allow this to give us strength. Being united gives us strength. Our interconnectedness is an absolute, even in our moments of craving our solitude, even while counting our enemies. To me, Thanksgiving is a time to remember this and to feel our bond and connection with others. Being human also means that we can lose patience and hold grudges, but on Thanksgiving, I want to be mindful of our oneness and feel grateful for what that means. We walk the same earth and breathe the same air. We can help each other and commiserate and make each other laugh and offer comfort and support as easily as we can do harm.

 

Reflecting lights... candle flames on a dark morning.

Reflecting lights… candle flames on a dark morning.

 

Happy Thanksgiving week, All.

The Number of the Feast.

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Well. This was bound to happen sooner or later, I suppose.

Here in Phoenix metro this week, someone found “666” swirled with frosting onto her child’s dinosaur birthday cake. Not just any birthday cake, either. The demonic cake was a COSTCO cake. See? I was right… Costco is evil. My Costco-induced panic attacks are NOT due to Costco being a chaotic warehouse of a special kind of too much of a good thing is a bad thing hell in which you’re supposed to be able to find what you’re looking for, frothing over with the ricocheting energy of hundreds of human-shaped mice let loose in a gigantic maze with rows and rows of towering boxes and crates and a million little pieces of cheese laying around everywhere, throwing the mice into confusion as they can’t decide which one to grab first so the pattern within the movement of the masses is schizophrenic as some of the mice wander aimlessly in a retail overload induced state of zombification while others dart hither and thither with varying degrees of harrowing spontaneity as they’re driven by impulse triggered by the things their eyeballs hone in on and ultimately their shopping carts collide like bumper cars and things get knocked over, and since it’s a warehouse, all the sounds in the entire place are amplified and bounce off of each other. Oh, no… the cause of my panic attacks in Costco is clearly written on this ominous cake expelled from the bowels of their bakery last weekend.

 

This is the Costco dino cake design selected by the child's grandmother.

This is the Costco dino cake design selected by the child’s grandmother.

 

The devil is in the details.

The devil is in the details.

 

Might I add that the Costco in question is the Superstition Springs one, which is near the Superstition Mountains, and we all know that the Superstitions are haunted. I mean, of course the demonic cake came from that location. Maybe an evil spirit flew down from the Superstitions to embed itself into this cake. And maybe if you play the music in that Costco backwards, you’d hear demonic whisperings commanding you to buy everything in sight.

Needless to say, the child’s mother was aghast at the 666 “hidden message” (what a clever visual pun of Satan’s, hiding the sign of the beast in a cartoonish beast’s cake-frosting legs) and took action just as quickly as the person who discovered the Virgin Mary emblazoned on a grilled cheese sandwich. This cake incident is actually unsurprising… if you believe in God, then you believe in the devil, and from this logic it follows that if the Virgin Mary is going to appear on a grilled cheese sandwich, then sooner or later, Satan is going to appear on a birthday cake.

Anyway, the news source carrying the article seems to be a Christian outfit out of the Midwest (judging by the listing of news items in the sidebar, and by the announcer’s accent… broadcast journalists at national stations use non-regional diction); I couldn’t find a hint of this demonic dinosaur cake item in the Arizona Republic/AZCenteral.com or the East Valley Tribune or any other Arizona publication. I’m not sure why Yahoo News decided to pluck this article from the Examiner and insert it into its news feed that day, but they did, and that is how it came to my attention.

On that note, I’m off to get ready for work. Happy Friday, All!

Is there a medieval dentist in the house?

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There’s been an ongoing drama rattling quietly behind the closed doors of our domestic life these last few weeks, rattling like strings of dried-out teeth from an old skeleton. I would tell you all about it, except that it must remain hush-hush (for privacy reasons, I’m not allowed to talk about it).

Yes, a moratorium has been placed on all public discussion of said drama, but I can say that I’ve arrived at a conclusion based on all related events. I didn’t just casually arrive at this conclusion, either…  I was forcibly propelled to it by simple logic. Sorry. I’m being vague, I know, and it seems unfair that I can tell you the punch-line as long as you don’t know the joke. But I do want to share the punch-line, because I’m resigned to the reality of it, and this has been no small feat.

The only possible answer to the gigantic WTF that’s engulfed the last few weeks is… Callaghan was an evil dentist in a past life.

Supporting my theory is the fact of Callaghan’s sinister antique dentist cabinet, which still lurks at the back of la bergerie on the property in France. The dentist cabinet. I wrote elaborately about it, as some of you may remember:

…it occurred to us to peek inside the beat-up old antique metal dentist cabinet that Callaghan accidentally got from a dentist office in Antibes. (Yes, by accident. It’s long story.)

 

NOW IT ALL MAKES SENSE.

NOW IT ALL MAKES SENSE.

 

I’d always thought there was something creepy about this dentist cabinet. The cabinet’s wide, shallow drawers had come filled with all sorts of little instruments and drills – dentistry’s accoutrements of bygone times – that Callaghan had removed for use on various projects. It could be, we thought, that the missing screws had made their way into those empty drawers at some point.  Ghostly, pain-inflicting screws, I couldn’t help but think. I peered over Callaghan’s shoulder with a bit of trepidation; it wouldn’t have surprised me if the dentist cabinet turned out to hold supernatural properties, transforming everyday objects into tiny medieval torture instruments. Contents of its drawers were not to be trusted.

The first thing you’ll notice when reading this excerpt (other than the fact that I clearly had more time to write back then) is that this mysterious dentist cabinet came to reside with Callaghan “by accident.” To which I now say, knowing what I know from these past few weeks, that there are no accidents. That dentist cabinet deliberately came home to Callaghan, who, in his present iteration of being, hasn’t been able to brush the remnants of his past evil dentist-hood off his aura. “Paybacks are a bitch,” my friends. This is karma.

Poor Callaghan. At least now that we know the root of the problem, we know that what he needs is a shaman, not a dentist, as someone astutely pointed out. Yes, others, too, have noted that the only explanation for the epic f*ckery we’ve experienced recently has to be that he was an evil dentist in a past life; that’s how absurdly obvious it is!

(Note to self: Google “shamans who specialize in past-life sadistic dentistry of the medieval persuasion.” That should get us somewhere.

Ass Landing.

That Asian-Looking Chick 3 Comments

Last night, I went to yahoo.com to check my email, and when the page loaded, one of many headlines to catch my eye was one about Kim Kardashian’s recent photo-shoot in Paper Magazine. It wasn’t the same as the last headline I’d scanned on the subject, though. I’m not bothering to count how many different Kim Kardashian photo-shoot-related headlines I’ve glimpsed in the last few days.

“Look at this,” I said. “Yet another article about Kim Kardashian’s photo-shoot!”

“Really?” He asked, distracted. I looked over at his screen. He was reading something about the comet landing… like that matters! Everyone knows that Kim Kardashian’s butt pictures are more important.

“You’ve seen the pictures, right…” I prodded his memory. “You know, she did that provocative photo-shoot for that magazine, and now everyone’s freaking out about her butt.”

This was when I discovered that Callaghan was apparently the only person on the planet who hadn’t yet seen the pictures. Being the decent citizen that I am, I clicked on the article and found a link to the full spread to show him. His reaction? Two words.

“That’s spooky.”

Spooky?

“Why is it spooky?” I had to ask.

“Because look at the size of her butt!”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s like… this big,” he said, holding out his hands to frame an invisible Kim Kardashian butt.

“Well…”

“It’s the size of her butt compared to her waist,” he explained. “Why are you asking me this? You know that it’s spooky!”

“Because ‘spooky’ is a really specific adjective, and its use in reference to someone’s butt is unexpected,” I explained. “When I hear ‘spooky,’ I think of Halloween. Ghosts. Stalkers. You know. Spooky. It means scary in a quiet, obscure way.”

“I am scared, Baby,” he said. “I’m scared by her butt.”

He went back to reading about the comet landing. I said, “Maybe they could’ve landed that spacecraft on Kim Kardashian’s butt.”

This morning, he sent me this picture:

 

One picture. Two stories. You can thank Callaghan.

One picture. Two stories. You can thank Callaghan.

 

Happy Friday, Everyone!

Freedom is Never Free!

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It’s November 11, which means that here in the States, we’re observing our national holiday to recognize veterans of the armed forces – the United States Army, Air Force, Navy and Marines.

At the end of October, I received this incredible email at work:

Saturday, November 8th ASU is hosting Notre Dame at 1:30 p.m.  With a desire to honor all of our veterans at ASU, a limited number of tickets have been made available for our veteran faculty and staff. You served with honor, now we honor you. Thank you for your service!

This came from the Salute to Service committee out of the Pat Tillman Veterans Center, a wonderful campus and community resource for veterans and their dependents at ASU. November 3-14 had been designated as “Salute to Service” week – a week of events with focus on military appreciation built around Pat Tillman’s birthday, November 6, and today, Veteran’s Day, November 11. With this, ASU celebrates the entire week as a way to honor vets and Pat Tillman in continuing his legacy as a heroic Sun Devil and pro football star who sacrificed his life in serving our country.

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-ASUsalutetoserviceweek2014coverpg

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-ASUsalutetoservice2014

 

Callaghan was especially excited about the opportunity to go to Saturday’s game against Notre Dame because he’d never been to a college football game before. Coming from France, he had no real concept of the importance or spirit of athletics at the American university (there’s no equivalent of it over there – no collegiate athletics programs, no mascots, no school colors, no marching bands, no cheerleaders or rivalries or tail-gate parties or events like homecoming or play-offs, etc.), but he had heard all the stories. I mean, he knew about it, but he’d never experienced it.

Man, did he get a first-class education in American college football spirit on Saturday! We walked down to the stadium – the joy of living downtown will never fade – where he dipped his virgin toe into the traditional institution of American college football. His foray turned out to be more of a head-first dive straight into the insanity that was Sun Devil Stadium that day. The game against legendary and well-seated Notre Dame proved to be a phenomenal, exciting, well-fought battle on Frank Kush field (55-31 ASU, final).

As you can imagine, the Sun Devils’ victory parlayed into an outrageous all-night party at the many bars, clubs and restaurants up and down Mill Avenue, the main street of Tempe.

Later that night, the passionate and gracious Notre Dame fans we spotted on Mill stood out in their navy and gold gear as they took in the chaos of the festivities with wide eyes. It was like a UFO had deposited the Fighting Irish fans in downtown Tempe, and they had no idea where they were. We saw them wandering slowly down the street in their unseasonal-to-them shorts and t-shirts, looking around with dazed expressions, and maybe it was just me, but I didn’t think they were thinking, damn, we lost, so much as, damn, now we have to get on the plane and go back to freezing Indiana. Because that’s what I would have been thinking, if I were them. (Aside: I’m certain that Arizona gets some of its transplants because people decide to move here after visiting from their cold places to support their teams playing the Sun Devils in sunny Tempe. It got up to 90 degrees that day. Callaghan and I were in long-sleeve t-shirts because we wanted to avoid getting farmers’ tans, but most people were in regular t-shirts or tank tops and shorts. You can generally get away with that year-round out here.)

Here are some pics from Saturday:

 

Tickets to the game. Thank you, Pat Tillman Veterans Center and Salute to Service committee!

Tickets to the game. Thank you, Pat Tillman Veterans Center and Salute to Service committee!

 

Entering Sun Devil territory. Fear the Fork!

Entering Sun Devil territory. Fear the Fork!

 

Sun Devil Stadium is built into the cactus-studded "A" Butte at the north end of the Tempe campus.

Sun Devil Stadium is built into the cactus-studded “A” Butte at the north end of the Tempe campus.

 

Score!

Score!

 

The game aired on ABC.

The game aired on ABC.

 

The Sun Devils played an enormous game. The spirit of Pat Tillman was with us, and we veterans in the crowd were recognized.

The Sun Devils played an enormous game. The spirit of Pat Tillman was with us, and we veterans in the crowd were recognized.

 

This brings us to today, a day off, and, most importantly, a day to remember and reflect with gratitude. Happy Veteran’s Day, and to all of you vets out there, thank you for your service!

Question: What’s left in the brain after a week of Mondays?

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Answer: Nothing.

I had an idea, and then I didn’t. Then I thought I would wake up early this morning with that same idea or some other idea circulating through my brain, but alas, it didn’t happen. The waking-up early part almost-but-not-quite happened, but the idea part didn’t, and that, unfortunately, was the critical part. I’m idea-less. It’s been a long week, and ALL THE IDEAS have left the building. I got nothing.

Or so I thought. One thing I did want to mention is that Ronnie James’ girlfriend has returned, to our relief. You see, she’d disappeared sometime early Halloween week, and you know that long-rampant (albeit probably untrue) rumor about how so-called devil-worshippers swoop through the neighborhoods around Halloween and abscond with outdoor cats – particularly the black ones – to use for “rituals”?  So I’d been a bit nervous for her, she who roams the ‘hood with no fear. By Wednesday last week, Ronnie James (le pauvre petit Wrah-Wrah! as we like to call him) could be observed at any given time draped forlornly over the table in front of the window, his dragony yellow eyes half-closed and scanning the street horizon in search of his little lady. And finally, two days ago, she made her first post-Halloween appearance.

She returned just as spry and adorable as usual. We wondered whether her Mommy or Daddy (we believe that she’s someone’s kid, and not just a stray) deliberately kept her in during Halloween week, a thought that warms my heart. Even if those black cat rumors aren’t true, there’s a lot to be said for peace of mind. I mean, anything could have happened. She could have been hit by a car or something.

So that’s the report from the neighborhood, folks. All is well.

For a flourish of a finish today, you get a couple of kitty grams:

 

What? I'm the Wrah-Wrah.

What? I’m the Wrah-Wrah.

 

CAPTION ME.

CAPTION ME.

 

Happy Friday, All!

What I’m Digging Right Now – October Favorites

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Thing One: It’s time for October Favorites, which means that this is the one-year anniversary of my Monthly Favorites posts!

I’m not at all surprised that I started this series in October, because I find it easy to enjoy pretty much everything in October. It’s my favorite month, so there are lots of favorites in it.

Thing Two: I regret to say that I have to retract a previously-listed favorite. That Revlon Colorstay Moisture Stain lip color I’d raved about in my September Favorites post? Is no longer a favorite. September was a weirdly humid month here, and my lips didn’t know how to deal with it, I guess. That lip stain (stains are drying products, but that one seemed to be different!) turned out to be a disaster on my lips as soon as the monsoon humidity ended. They just suddenly dried out, and nothing I did could soften them. No amount of exfoliation helped. No variety of products helped.

Until I tried… and this brings me to my first favorite “little thing” on the list for October…

 

1). Nivea  A Kiss of Moisture Essential Lip Care.

 

Nivea A Kiss of Moisture Essential Lip Care

Nivea A Kiss of Moisture Essential Lip Care

 

As I was saying, nothing in my arsenal of lip care products worked when my lips dried out. Oil didn’t work. Vaseline didn’t work. The Aquaphor I traditionally use at night didn’t work. The L’Occitane lip balm I’d raved about a few months ago stopped working. The EOS balm I’d been enjoying did nothing but taste good (and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t getting any nutritional benefit from it). So I headed to the drugstore in search of something different, and I walked out with this modest little product by Nivea that’s literally the only thing that works. My lips went from extremely dry and flaky to soft and moist overnight. I have a feeling that this is going to be a favorite for life, not just for now.

 

2). Asymmetrical, geometric, metal statement necklace.

 

Wearing the necklace at Rage in the Cage.

Wearing the necklace at Rage in the Cage.

 

A former co-worker gave this necklace to me for Christmas one year, but somehow, I never wore it until October. I threw it on as we were heading out the door to Rage in the Cage, and I’ve worn it several times since then. It’s funny how our tastes change over time… something that seemed awkward to me at first now interests me with its unusual, unexpected appeal, and I love it.

Shall we move on to food?

 

3). Roasted Brussels Sprouts.

 

Roasted Brussels sprouts with quinoa

Roasted Brussels sprouts with quinoa

 

LET IT BE KNOWN that finally, after several years, I’ve discovered a way to get Callaghan to eat Brussels sprouts with genuine gusto. Brussels sprouts are way at the top my favorite foods list – I love cruciferous vegetables, particularly Brussels sprouts, broccoli, cabbage, rapini and kale – and the fact that he didn’t like them no matter what I did made things challenging. One day last month, I put them in the oven to roast. Callaghan enjoys roasted broccoli and cabbage, so I thought, why not try roasting the ol’ sprouts? And miraculously, he loves Brussels sprouts when they’re roasted! It’s simple… I just cut off the ends, remove the outer leaves, cut them in half length-wise, arrange them cut-side-up on a foil-lined baking sheet, drizzle them with extra-virgin olive oil, and sprinkle them with coarsely ground sea salt and black pepper before putting them in a 425 degree oven for 30 minutes. He demolishes them and then asks for more. SUCCESS IS MINE.

 

4). Organic Honeycrisp apples.

 

Organic honeycrisp apple! Apple perfection.

Organic honeycrisp apple! Apple perfection.

 

It’s apple season, and everywhere I look in the produce section, it’s applicious abundance all over the place! My favorite kind are the Honeycrisp apples. They’re so sweet, juicy and flavorful. I have one every day. I know I need to enjoy them while they last, because they are seasonal.

 

5). Kashi Go Lean Crisp! Toasted Berry Crumble cereal.

 

Kashi Go Lean Crisp! Toasted Berry Crumble cereal

Kashi Go Lean Crisp! Toasted Berry Crumble cereal

 

I’m always on the prowl for protein-rich foods, so when I spotted this cereal on the store shelf, I grabbed it, read the label and brought it home to try. Plus, toasted berry crumble! I had high hopes, and it didn’t disappoint. I eat it with plain, unsweetened almond milk, and it is SO GOOD.

 

6). Clif Builder’s Snack Size protein bars in Chocolate Mint.

 

Clif Builder's Chocolate Mint Snack Size protein bar

Clif Builder’s Chocolate Mint Snack Size protein bar

 

Oh my goodness. If you’re American – and maybe even if you aren’t – you probably know what Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies taste like. Imagine a Thin Mint in the form of a substantial little bar with 10 grams of protein and only 140 calories, and it should be evident why I have to rave about these today. This nutritionally-dense little bar functions as a dessert that means business… the business of supplying me with yet more protein while tricking my taste buds into thinking they’re smacking on Thin Mints. The best part is that you don’t have to wait for Girl Scout cookie season to get them!

Now exiting food territory…

 

7). Arizona sunsets.

 

Arizona sunsets are always beautiful, but they're especially dramatic in October....

Arizona sunsets are always beautiful, but they’re especially dramatic in October….

 

In Arizona, a sunset isn’t just a sunset… it’s an Arizona sunset. The Arizona sunset is a thing, and it seems that October in the desert brings the most unforgettable sunsets of all. Pictures don’t do them justice. I think it must have to do with the cloud arrangement at this time of year. I don’t know. All I know is that every year I’m in Arizona, I take more pictures of sunsets in October than I do in any other month. They are spectacular.

Let’s finish off the list with pop culture!

 

8). Homeland, Season 4. (T.V. series).

 

HOMELAND (Season 4)

 

No spoilers here, but just allow me to say that after the season three finale, we were kind of left with our jaws on the floor, thinking, What could be the point in continuing this? We were intrigued, and we knew we wouldn’t be let down, but we had no idea how not let down we’d be. Season four is turning out to be our favorite so far, and that’s saying a lot, because Homeland is one of our all-time favorite series.  It just keeps getting better!

 

9). The Good Wife (T.V. series).

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-thegoodwife

 

Okay… how is it that we never thought to watch The Good Wife before? We started watching this masterfully written and crafted drama series in October, and it immediately sucked us into the depths of its rich and complex world. You guys, this show is on its sixth season; we’ve been binge-watching it as if there weren’t other things we needed to be doing. We’re half-way through the second season. We’re completely addicted. We’re gone. Bye. See you next year.

 

10). American Horror Story: Freak Show and Stalker (T.V. series)

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-Freak-Stalker

 

T.V. is so good right now, it’s killing me. Between the shows mentioned in this post and Modern Family, I don’t even know what’s playing in the movie theatres right now, to tell you the truth.

So, we had no idea about Stalker until last month. We started watching it at about the same time as American Horror Story: Freak Show, and we’ve continued to watch the two as a double-feature every week, back-to-back. We start with Stalker, then move on to AHS, and by the time that’s over, I’m thoroughly creeped out.

With Stalker, it’s the camera angles… the way the show is filmed helps to build a sharp, paranoid intensity in a short amount of time, and you don’t even realize you’re on the edge of your seat until it’s over. With American Horror Story: Freak Show, it was mainly Twisty the Murder Clown that did it for me… until the other clown emerged. Again, no spoilers here. Just saying. There are two evil clowns, and the fact that the new one is the scarier one to me is telling.

I’ve actually been contemplating this season of American Horror Story beyond its dark surface display of evil and gore, and I might share those thoughts here at some point… probably when the season’s over and I’ve seen the whole thing to its conclusion. (It wouldn’t be fair to draw conclusions before watching the conclusion, right?)

With that, I’m off to enjoy another crisp and gorgeous November morning. Enjoy your week!

Halloween Festivities!

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HELLo! This image-centric post is brought to you by one of America’s favorite holidays, Halloween, which is TODAY. Yay!!

This is just to say Happy Halloween, and here are a couple of pictures I took of creepy sights around town, and here’s another one of Zombie Callaghan, and here’s one of our jack o-lantern (not in that order), and hey, here are a couple of pics of the cake I made last night – the cake that I’m bringing to our Halloween potluck at work today, because I love my co-workers so much!

As for this evening? After celebrating Halloween pretty much all month, Callaghan and I are going to enjoy a low-key night at home. We’re going to watch this week’s episode of American Horror Story and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. THAT IS THE PLAN, STAN, and we’re sticking with it. =)

Let’s start with home…

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-halloween2014jackolantern

We decided to go with a fake jack o’lantern this year.

 

Then to the Melonhead Foundation’s Drag Bingo charity bash!

 

Remember when I was escorted to Drag Bingo by a jovial French zombie?

Remember when I was escorted to Drag Bingo by a jovial French zombie?

 

I don’t exactly have coulrophobia (a pathological fear of clowns), but still…

 

Earlier in the month, I spotted a random clown tucked into a hallway near the entrance of a Wal-Mart.

Earlier in the month, I spotted a random clown tucked into a hallway near the entrance of a Wal-Mart.

 

And in our neighborhood, this house always catches my every-horror-tuned eye…

 

The sequel to the sequel to the sequel of "The Amityville Horror" is going to be called "The Tempe Horror." It's the windows under the peaked roof that do it.

The sequel to the sequel to the sequel of “The Amityville Horror” is going to be called “The Tempe Horror.” It’s the windows under the peaked roof that do it.

 

And for work today, I made this cake, a tradition I’ve done for Halloween potlucks for years:

 

The return of the litter box cake, just for my co-workers!

The return of the litter box cake, just for my co-workers!

 

 

Ronnie James approves.

Ronnie James approves.

 

Happy FRIDAY Halloween, Everyone!

200th Post! Le Deux Centième!

That Asian-Looking Chick 2 Comments

Well. Today marks a milestone for this blog, because today, exactly one month short of two years since my first post, I’m writing here for the 200th time!

 

Capture200

 

*throws confetti*

Of course, I got to feeling reflective as this milestone approached.

This blog began, in part, because I missed LiveJournal, which I’d more or less abandoned several years earlier. Facebook eventually replaced the social aspect of it, in a sense, but I wanted to journal again. Moreover, I was living in France, in limbo, not working, and I could feel my brain cells disintegrating while my writing muscles atrophied. I did write some poems. I also intermittently worked on a big writing project, but fiction really isn’t my forte… I missed writing creative non-fiction. And when I tentatively returned to writing in LiveJournal, it just didn’t feel the same. For me, the old LJ magic had left the room (but that had happened before I’d quit, which was why I’d quit). Something had to be done!

I went to create a WordPress account, and I was promptly reminded that I already had one. I’d just never used it. How convenient! I named it “That Asian-Looking Chick,” bought the domain and jumped in with the goal of posting two or three times per week. It’s been hella fun, and rewarding, and instructive. I never missed a week, but it wasn’t until March of this year that I fell into a twice-weekly schedule that stuck. By April, it’d evolved into a Tuesday/Friday thing, and eight months later, I’m still comfortable with that.

Surprisingly, getting settled in a regular posting schedule coincided with going back to work. In the same month, Callaghan and I established a consistent routine at the gym. It was interesting how once I was anchored at a job, other things like blogging and working out sort of fell into place. It was like a “structure begets more structure” kind of thing.

I typically just glance at my blog stats and search engine terms, since the superficial layer is right there before my eyes, but in honor of my 200th post, I took a more in-depth look. Some fun facts include:

–Since Netflix released the second season of Orange is the New Black in June, hundreds of views have resulted from searches for the Asian girl who plays a character in those episodes, as I’ve already mentioned. Yes, the OITNB Asian girl madness continues to rage on today! It’s been five months now. (I still wonder whether Kimiko Glenn has any idea of the scope of her popularity.)

–WordPress stats include visitors’ countries. I did a country count and found that, as of yesterday, people have read this blog from exactly 100 different countries. I’m ashamed to admit that a couple of the places on the list are countries that I hadn’t even realized were actual countries. This blog has opened my eyes to the world, and that is fabulous. (Also, if I needed any proof that English is a language spoken, or at least read, world-wide? I’ve got it.)

–You’re mostly a silent crowd on my posts, except for when I wrote about the casting in the film Jack Reacher.

–A few of you have commented with helpful tips in response to my posts, and your sharing has been wonderfully beneficial. For instance, thanks to your awesomeness, we’re hooked on The Following (T.V. series), and I found my favorite Korean facial sheet masks – the Epielle ones I’ve raved about several times – at Big Lots! For an amazing price!

 

Epielle sheet masks at Big Lots!

Epielle sheet masks at Big Lots!

 

–Because of the search terms, I also know that I’m far from the only one looking for that old (1970’s) Charleston Chew candy commercial, the one featuring King Louis. I trust that if anyone finds it, they’ll come back here and share it.

So, as I reflect back to the beginning, I wanted to thank you for reading and hanging out here with me over the last 200 posts/23 months, or however long you’ve been here. I don’t know about you, but I have no idea where all that time went!

Those of you who’ve been here the longest remember when I was an American ex-pat in France who had no clue that she’d move back to the States. You were here when I was an Arizona girl in Texas who had no clue that she’d move back to Arizona. You spent two birthdays with me, you share my “Little Things” (monthly favorites) joy with me, and you’re privy to my enthusiasm for pop culture and martial/fighting arts. You tolerate my kitty blather and pics (mostly Ronnie James, aka the Wrah-Wrah) and “NOT UNLIKE” comparisons. You read about Callaghan’s shenanigans, and you read my embarrassing stories. You follow my occasional cultural comparison observations. You hear me out when I feel the need to rant. You’ve been there during more personal moments, too, such as when my Mom set off on her journey to fight cancer (she’s doing really well, by the way)! And you laugh with me, which I love.

Some things I want to do here in the future? Well, I’d love to get more active as a blogger, reading more of other people’s blogs. I’d also like to mix it up more, spend more time writing about topics that matter to me profoundly. While my routine is fixed, time is actually a constraint (as it is, I’m usually up at around 5:00am to write here). I’d still like to find time to carve out for non-blog writing projects, as well – I currently have a prose piece in the works, and I’d love to pick up on the poeting – so we shall see what transpires over the next two years!

 

Monday lunch hour selfie (October 27, 2014)

Monday lunch hour selfie (October 27, 2014)

 

And who knows… I may yet divulge the story of My Most Embarrassing Moment.

Calf Encounters of the Third Kind.

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Wednesday night after Body Combat class, I met Callaghan out on the floor, as per usual. [Side note: have I mentioned that I’m doing Body Combat class three times a week now, since our gym changed its group fitness schedule and replaced Wednesday night Boot Camp with another Body Combat? I love the extra Body Combat, of course, and the instructor is excellent, but “Find another way to get someone to kick my ass with a varied workout combining strength-training, compound exercises, plyometrics and cardio on a weekly basis during a day/time slot that works with my existing schedule” has since been a lingering, problematic item on my “To Do” list. I had relied completely on that weekly Boot Camp class for strength training, and one thing I’d especially appreciated was that the class was different every time. No two Boot Camp classes were the same, so your body never knew what was coming, and therefore, it couldn’t plateau. Plus, that instructor was excellent, as well.]

[Additional side note: Word did not recognize the word “plyometrics” when I keyed it in just now. This, I believe, points to a deplorable deficit in our system somewhere. I mean, what does it say about us as a society when Word doesn’t recognize “plyometrics,” other than the obvious conclusion that the people who develop that software must not work out?]

[Another additional side note: due to a recurring rib injury I was nursing at the time, I wasn’t even able to attend the last two Boot Camp classes, so I didn’t know it was going away until it was gone. I was still attending Body Combat because there I could power through the pain to the best of my ability and simply avoid the weight-bearing (push-ups) part at the end, but there was no point in attempting Boot Camp class at all with that injury.]

Anyway, so I met up with Callaghan – he lifts weights while I’m in class on Wednesday evenings – and as we walked out through the parking lot, he suddenly remembered he had something to tell me.

“Oh I talked to John tonight!” he blurted.

“John? John who?” I was thinking, John? Jean? Who is he talking about?

“JOHN, the Beautiful Calves Man,” he answered, leaving a silent “duh!” hanging at the end.

“Oh.”

“He told me that he’s a massage therapist,” he informed me.

“So are you going to get a massage from him?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Actually, I’m going to ask him if I can massage his calves.”

We laughed at his joke. But I had to follow up.

“To see if they’re real?”

“I’m sure they’re real,” he replied. “Why would he put so much work into his body and then get fake calves?”

I went online last night in search of a video about calf implants, figuring I should educate myself. This was the first one I found:

 

 

So clearly, there’s a niche of jokes about calf implants out there. In a weird way, though, the video gives me additional impetus to find time for another gym session each week. I’ll have to give this challenge some serious consideration.

Meanwhile, Happy Friday!

This and That

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I have nothing to give you today, due to the fact that the saga of my new computer took up every last second of time between Friday and 11pm last night (when we weren’t gallivanting at Drag Bingo or working out in Body Combat class or doing laundry or actually working, that is). Guys, to give you an idea… a new episode of Homeland is available, and we haven’t watched it yet! That is our NUMBER ONE show this season, we’re utterly enthralled, and it’s been driving us crazy that there’s an episode just sitting there, unwatched. But we’re going to watch it tonight after grocery shopping (didn’t even get that done over the weekend) after work, so I get to look forward to it all day.

I’m extremely happy – I would even say thrilled – with my new computer (and this is the second one since the saga began – I had to take the first one back because of major issues), but I haven’t really used it yet. My amazing brother remoted in from California last night to help me set it up, and since then, I’ve been busy sleeping (a scant five hours) and showering, and now I’m sitting here with a cup of coffee and Callaghan next to me and the lights on in the deliciously dark early fall morning and the sound of the sprinklers on the lawn and kitties running around.

Speaking of kitties, have I mentioned that Ronnie James has a girlfriend? She’s an outdoor neighborhood kitty, and she’s adorable. She comes and sits on the table under the window, and she and the Wrah-Wrah gaze and bat at each other.

Aren't they a cute couple?

Aren’t they a cute couple?

Also, here’s a photo from Drag Bingo, which many of you have already seen on facebook. This was actually taken right before we left the house:

Callaghan and I didn't quite coordinate our outfits for the soiree.

Callaghan and I didn’t quite coordinate our outfits for the soiree.

Have a great Tuesday, All!

Addicted to Fear? (PTSD post.)

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Q: What happens when you watch the American Horror Story: Freak Show premiere and the first two episodes of Stalker all on the same night?

A: The next time you’re alone in the house, ALL THE LITTLE NOISES will cause you to jump and imagine that the most terrifying clown you’ve ever seen is creeping around your windows.

And, if you’re kind of warped, like me, you’ll love it.

Twisty the Clown

Twisty the Clown

Fear is a mysterious emotion. It can be taught, or it can be intuitive. It can be provoked by things we perceive with our own senses, or by others’ senses. Fear as a response to external stimuli real or imagined can also be unpredictable.

Twisty the MURDER Clown, that is.

Twisty the MURDER Clown, that is.

I have phobias, meaning that I experience irrational fear in response to specific things. I also have PTSD, meaning that I have a few known “triggers” floating around in a deep lake of more inexplicable, unknown causes of panic. The resulting inner havoc is predictable even if its cause is not… it’s the familiar old Armageddon of panic and stress boiling in my core, rippling outward through my body like a fire spreading through a house. It feels like I’m being consumed. Sometimes, it even feels like I’m going to die, or like I have to die. I actually take medication for this. Throw in the by-product of clinical depression just to balance it out, and there you have the main reason I live for my body combat classes at the gym three days a week. I enjoy them because they’re amazing, yes, but I also need them for medical reasons. Intense physical training on a regular basis helps my brain chemistry better than anything.

So it’s a mystery to me why, when a former boyfriend introduced me to the creepy PlayStation game Silent Hill (the only video game I’d played since the ‘80’s), I quickly became addicted and couldn’t wait for darkness to fall every night so I could huddle in the shadowy corner of the bed with all the lights out, trembling and listening to the discreet yet horrifying sound of snow crunching beneath my feet (leave it to developers of Japanese horror to make the sound of snow horrifying) as I walked through the abandoned town in search of my daughter. You would think the eerie sense of being watched and the unpredictable sightings and attacks would have sent me into PTSD Armageddon, but instead, I found myself craving more.

It’s odd, this thing about the horror genre in pop culture. If scary movies, television shows, books or games manage to provoke fear or stir up the creep factor even a little bit, which very few of them can do, by the way – my favorites are the ones that can – I just twitch a little and then run back for more. Yet, the sight of a sewer roach encases me in fear and leaves me traumatized for days. Why is that?

I would venture to guess that the PTSD lurks behind this incongruity. Fear strikes, and in that moment of skyrocketing adrenaline, I’m instantaneously alert and on edge. Maybe, in some perverse way, I love it because it makes me feel alive… alert, alive and ready to act, and when this response comes in the wake of stimuli that I know is fictional, I can just enjoy the rush. There’s no real-world threat in fiction. (A roach is not a formidable threat, but it is real.) Maybe I’ve become a “fight or flight” response junkie, though I don’t think I’d go so far as to say I’m addicted to adrenaline, a phenomenon that some people apparently experience. For me, in the case of creepy movies and T.V. shows and books, maybe I’m more just hyper-intrigued by the fear of the unknown, and of the (horrifying) possibilities. Neither am I sure that there’s much of a difference between this kind of fear addiction and the kind of garden-variety thrill-seeking that leads people to go bungee-jumping (I am not a thrill-seeker of the bungee-jumping variety). Whatever the case, I find the psychology of fear to be fascinating. Fear is terror-provoking, thrilling, necessary and fun. What emotion other than love covers all of that?

My affection for the horror genre pre-dates my PTSD, so perhaps that’s significant, as well.

I also think that it’s my PTSD that drives me through whatever martial/fighting arts training I’m doing, especially when my energy stores are low, though I’d loved combat sports long before the PTSD, too. In high school, I was the girl who demanded that the P.E. faculty allow girls to take wrestling, because that was what I wanted to do, and I was outraged that only boys could take it. (In the end, they acquiesced, but only because I got other girls to sign my petition, indicating that they would take it with me. We were only allowed to wrestle under the stipulation that we’d wrestle each other, rather than the boys. Haha!) (I don’t think that anyone was surprised when I joined the Army after that.)

On the tail of that tangent, let’s all take a moment to acknowledge that Halloween is just two weeks away. I’m beside myself with glee. We’re in a house now, which means that we get to give candy out to trick-or-treaters. I wonder how many American Horror Story Twisty the Clowns we’ll find on our doorstep Halloween night? I can’t wait to find out!

Happy Friday, All!

Blustery weather and popcorn don’t mix.

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You know that moment you’re sitting outside with a baggie of popcorn, eating it on autopilot, pinching clusters of popcorn from the bag, tilting your head back and dropping the popcorn into your open mouth… and one of those times, when the popcorn is in mid-air between your fingers and your mouth, a gust of wind suddenly whips through and blows the popcorn off-course? And the next thing you know, there’s popcorn in your hair because the wind also blew that everywhere, and then, right at that moment, some people stroll around the corner to find you frantically trying to finger-comb the popcorn out of your hair, and when you realize you’re being watched, you realize you probably look like that gorilla in the zoo you’d observed picking things out of his fur and eating them?

So do I.

But I still ate it all.

But I still ate it all.

“Poor Baby… you’re like a gorilla in the fog,” said Callaghan when I relayed the story to him. Eh. Fog, mist, whatever, it’s all the same when you’re wearing your snacks in your hair.

So, that was yesterday. This mini-edition of Embarrassing Story Tuesday was brought to you by Monday.

La Fin.

An Introvert Dines Out (A Mock Restaurant Review)

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There was no “Please Wait to be Seated” sign – it was a “Seat Yourself” kind of place.

I seated myself at a round stone table near the edge of the balcony. The patio was empty, but that detail appealed to me greatly.

There was no server, but I had a cloth bag containing the lunch menu du jour, or, shall we say, du mois: a peanut butter and blackberry jam sandwich (peanut butter: 365 creamy; jam: Kroger’s Just Fruit; bread: Dave’s Killer Blues), which appeared alongside a Ziploc baggie of popcorn (plain, lightly salted). I’d already partaken of an appetizer… the roasted walnut halves and pieces provided a preliminary protein boost. The beverage accompanying the main meal was filtered water on the rocks in a tall, insulated glass.

I’d give it an “A” for atmosphere. In the aftermath of an almost-hurricane, what would have been the third in a string of unusual, late-season tropical storms, the temperature was mild and pleasant, neither hot nor cold, humid nor dry, windy nor stagnant. The sky was clear, bright and blue.

The view was splendiferous.

The view was splendiferous.

My dining companion was a guy on the phone whose French accent I might have pondered had I been paying closer attention to accents. I was more interested in the mundane details of what he was saying – that his vegetable stir-fry was even tastier than it had been the previous day (aromatic leftovers), that the Wrah-Wrah was fine after two asthma attacks (and being extra-cute), that the new Indian deli’s Grand Opening is on the 23rd (free food!), and that a client would incur additional charges for extra technology work (business as usual).

Outside of the conversation, the soundscape featured the periodic splashing of a waterfall on asphalt, and airplanes cruising overhead, descending for landing every five minutes or so. More distant, the sound of people talking and music playing filled in the void that asked for white noise.

It was a good patio-dining experience. I’d give it 4.5 out of 5 stars.

(Alternately titled “I ate a sandwich by myself on the patio, and I enjoyed it” in 331 words.)

Happy Friday, All! =)

Let’s Talk about Texts.

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It’s likely that many college towns in the States have one thing in common: herds of bicyclists under the impression that the normal rules of death don’t apply to them, protected by a force field that deflects danger, an invisible shield under which they can do any number of things at zero risk.

I’m thinking of the guy we often see around downtown Tempe, riding his bike, holding an umbrella – open, over his head! – and texting. No hands on the bike as he wobbles slowly along in oblivion. But hey… at least his umbrella’s protecting him from the harmful rays of the sun! He’s a comical sight, but he’s a disaster waiting to happen, and he makes me nervous. We call him the Umbrella Guy.

People do funny things while operating their various modes of personal transportation. I once saw a woman knitting while driving, and I knew someone who admitted to polishing her toenails while driving. I’ve seen people eating breakfast, drinking coffee and reading newspapers spread out over the steering wheel – on the freeway, no less. During one of several Defensive Driving courses I’d taken (I have a history of lead foot and was caught on camera several times – though one of those was an actual speed trap), the instructor cited a statistic saying that the documented “number one cause” of inattention-related accidents on the road is “(gender) men who are (activity) eating.” Surprise! Not people falling asleep. Not women putting on makeup. Men, eating. The image accompanying that part of the presentation showed a guy behind the wheel holding a big, messy burger in one hand and fries in the other, with a drink between his thighs.

That was something like six-seven years ago, and I’d bet the statistics are different now. I’d bet the number one cause of inattention-related road accidents now is texting, and it’s gender-irrelevant. Every day, I see people all over the place walking across streets, cycling, skateboarding and driving while texting, and I’m surprised that there aren’t more casualties.

Not that I’m above anyone for my own texting behavior, mind you. I sometimes text while walking, and it does happen every once and a while that there’s a street to cross while I’m doing it, though I try to be aware and keep it at a minimum. The biggest hazard I encounter while texting is more to my pride than to my person. I’m that texter who, due to my own carelessness, sends text messages to the wrong people… and this is how we arrive at Embarrassing Story Tuesday. It’s been a while!

Back in May, I helped to coordinate an academic competition at an event showcasing the work of students in our department. During the competition, Callaghan was en route from central Phoenix, contacting me periodically to tell me where he was so I could advise him on where to go, where to park, etc. (This was during commencement, and it was a clusterf*ck all around the campus.) Meanwhile, our faculty coordinator for the competition, who was sitting in the back of the large room – I was at the front of the room – texted me regarding something technical, and with my attention fragmented in the confusion of keeping up with the competitors and the judges and the score sheets and incoming texts and calls from Callaghan, whose goal was to let me know when he’d arrived so I could point him in the right direction, I accidentally sent some texts meant for Callaghan to the professor.

Because Callaghan called, and I couldn’t answer. Because the last text I’d sent was to the professor, and I forgot to switch back to my text exchange with Callaghan before texting him. I was beyond mortified when I saw that I’d sent the messages to the professor, who, incidentally, was the assistant director of my department at the time. I called him “Baby,” and I didn’t realize my gaffe until he sneezed and I went to text “bless you” to him.

thatasianlookingchick.com-embarrassingmistext

I wanted to crawl under the table, I was so embarrassed. Moral of the story: it’s not always a good idea to do personal things while working in certain fast-paced, chaotic situations, even if it’s just trying to communicate logistical information to family members.

On that note, I’m off to get ready for work. Have a great Tuesday, All!

What I’m Digging Right Now – September Favorites

That Asian-Looking Chick 4 Comments

It’s time to pay homage to the Little Things that made last month wonderful! The real magic of September, though, is that it brought us to October, my favorite month… so, in honor of fall and the splendor that comes with it, let’s start with home things…

1). Mainstay candle in Mulled Cider.

Mainstay Mulled Cider candle - autumn in a glass jar.

Mainstay Mulled Cider candle – autumn in a glass jar.

This candle turned out to be a big surprise. It’s basically a $5.00 candle with the quality and fragrance pay-off of a $20.00 candle, and it can be found at Walmart, where we go after the gym sometimes, since it’s next door. I was doubtful when I bought it… I’ve had such meh experiences with other cheap candles that I’d stopped trying with them. I’m so glad I decided to take a chance on this one! This candle’s lovely aroma fills the room just as well as a pricier one would. I’m just so impressed. With its intense yet rounded fragrance of spiced cider, the Mulled Cider candle is fall-scented perfection for a fraction of the cost of a Yankee candle, or one from Bath & Body Works, or one from Crabtree and Evelyn, or elsewhere.

2). Eiffel Tower backdrop.

Ronnie James gazing at the Eiffel Tower in our Paris-inspired guest bedroom... don't tell my parents he was on "their" bed, haha!

Ronnie James gazing at the Eiffel Tower in our Paris-inspired guest bedroom… don’t tell my parents he was on “their” bed, haha!

SURPRISE! It’s the Eiffel Tower in our guest bedroom, haha!

What can I say? I love the Eiffel Tower, and I thought it would be fun to do this room with our French houseguests in mind.

When I recently wrote about the abundance of Eiffel Tower-themed things all over the place here in the States and listed a few of the Eiffel Towers we have in our house, I didn’t mention this particular one that’s printed on a fabric panel and serving as a headboard behind the bed in our spare room. This “tapestry” comes from Urban Outfitters. We have three others from them throughout the house… one in our bedroom (forest theme), one in my office (mystical sunset theme), and another in the guest bathroom (wrought iron country gate theme).

Ronnie James knows he’s not allowed in the guest bedroom, so naturally, when we were distracted showing his Auntie Margaret around the other day, he seized the opportunity to dart in the second we opened the door. This photo busts Ronnie James in his big carpe diem moment of the month. He ran in, jumped on the bed and went straight to the Eiffel Tower. It’s not so strange, though… he is French, after all!

Moving along to entertainment…

3). Personal by Lee Child.

Reacher is back!

Reacher is back!

Because yes, Reacher is back, and this time, the shenanigans begin in Paris!

I loved it, and I had an intimately thrilling moment when Reacher took his CIA companion through the Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris and mentioned Jim Morrison’s grave, the subject of my “greatest first-world problem” post! As the two are naming several famous people buried at Père Lachaise, Reacher pointedly adds, “…and Jim Morrison… from the Doors.” I couldn’t believe it… Reacher brought me to the place I regretted missing five times. This is escapism at its finest. Thank you, Lee Child!

4). Modern Family, season 6 (T.V. series)

thatasianlookingchick.com-modernfamilys6

The start of our beloved Modern Family’s sixth season launched our fall television agenda, and the premiere left us cracking up, as usual! The particular humor in this comedy just does it for us, and that makes it pure gold. Comedic timing is a tricky thing to learn… one has to have an innate sense of it. There’s just so much talent on this set, and we just think the show is excellent in all respects. We’re so glad these crazy guys are back.

Now for beauty products! I had a couple of cosmetic item favorites in September that I’m continuing to love…

5). L’Oréal True Match Lumi Healthy Luminous Makeup.

L’Oréal True Match Lumi Healthy Luminous Makeup (in N3)

L’Oréal True Match Lumi Healthy Luminous Makeup (in N3)

If you know me well, you know that I’m constantly on-and-off boycotting L’Oréal, and I don’t think I’ve ever used a foundation of theirs before… but it’s hard to find a foundation that I love (for a long time, I just used BB creams), so I decided to take a suggestion and try their True Match Lumi Healthy Luminous makeup. Frankly, in my opinion, it’s perfect. I love its lightweight feel and flawless finish, and its extensive range of shades makes it user-friendly for everyone. This medium-coverage makeup is a fabulous drugstore alternative to expensive department store brands. I once tried a sample of Chanel’s Vitalumiere Aqua foundation, and the L’Oréal True Match Lumi Healthy Luminous Makeup seems to be a good dupe for that lovely product. Win!

6). Revlon Colorstay Moisture Stain in Stockholm Chic (055).

Revlon Colorstay Moisture Stain in Stockholm Chic (055)

Revlon Colorstay Moisture Stain in Stockholm Chic (055)

This is simply the best lip stain I’ve ever tried, and I do mean ever. It’s light and long-wearing, and it feels like I’m wearing nothing while doing exactly what a good lip stain should do – it leaves color on the lips even after it’s worn off, and, being less drying than most, it doesn’t gunk up in a patchy way when you reapply it. Not only that, but it actually comes in the perfect “my lips but better” shade… Stockholm Chic is a darker neutral that strikes that elusive balance between rust and wine. Sometimes I just apply lip balm over the stain after it wears off, and then it looks like a well-pigmented gloss. This is good stuff.

7). Aussie Miracle Moist shampoo and 3-Minute Miracle Moist conditioner.

Aussie Moist shampoo and 3 Minute Miracle Moist conditioner

Aussie Moist shampoo and 3 Minute Miracle Moist conditioner

I’ve been using Aussie products here and there for years, including their 3-Minute Miracle conditioner that’s been around for a while, but their “Moist” line is newer, isn’t it? Or did they just re-name it? Whatever the case, I’m finding it to be quite wonderful these days. I have another brand of shampoo and conditioner in the shower that used to be my favorite, but I keep reaching for these Aussie products. I just re-purchased the conditioner. That’s saying a lot!

Now, because you know I’m all about carb and protein-packed treats…

8). Lenny & Larry’s The Complete Cookie.

Lenny and Larry's The Complete Cookie in All The Flavors.

Lenny and Larry’s The Complete Cookie in All The Flavors.

Can we just start with dessert? Our gym got us hooked on these cookies by displaying them boldly on their exit counter one week. Thanks, gym. We’ve tried the lemon poppy seed (which tastes like cake), chocolate chip (really good chocolate chip!), pumpkin spice (OMG amazing) and double chocolate, and Oh. My. Goodness. There are no words, my friends. No words. Our gym sells these vegan, organic, high protein and kosher cookies for a ridiculous price at $3.00 a pop, but we actually found them on sale at Whole Foods one day – three for $5.00! – so I couldn’t say I went to “Whole Paycheck” that day. I highly recommend these delicious cookies, but take caution… they’re huge, and the nutritional info label reveals that one cookie equals two servings. To save money and calories, I break them in half and store them in the freezer in individual ziplock bags.

9). Dave’s Killer Bread (Blues Bread).

Dave's Killer Bread Blues Bread... it's to die for!

Dave’s Killer Bread Blues Bread… it’s to die for!

About one-third of the employees at Dave’s Killer Bread are ex-cons. If that right there isn’t cool enough – who doesn’t love a company that gives second chances? – throw in the fact that the bread they make is completely out-of-this-world fantabulous. Our favorite is the Blues Bread. Inspired by Dave’s love of Blues music, Blues Bread® is rolled in organic blue cornmeal, giving it a crunchy crust and sweet flavor. It’s vegan and high in fiber, protein and omega-3 fatty acids. All of DKB’s breads are organic.

10). Clif bar in Sierra Trail Mix.

Sierra Trail Mix Clif Bars.

Sierra Trail Mix Clif Bars.

The classic Clif bars are a bit more calorie-dense than bars I’d typically consume, but they’re designed to supply energy while hiking (I think that’s how they got started, anyway), and sustainable energy means calories. The reason this gives pause for thought is that the Sierra Trail Mix flavor is so good, I don’t want to stop after eating after half the bar… I want the whole thing! We’re hooked on these bars. Clif bar flavors are hit or miss with me, and this flavor is most definitely a hit. Well done, Clif bar people. Well done.

That wraps it up for September… now I can start keeping track of the awesome things October’s bound to bring! First of all, my parents arrive today for their weekend stay with us. They’ll be the first visitors to stay in the Eiffel Tower room. =)

Happy Friday, All!

Lawnmowerpalooza 2014

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

I’d insisted that I’d never write this blog post. I swore it to the point where it became an inside joke, but alas, it has come to pass… I’m writing about a lawnmower, and it’s Callaghan’s fault. He wins.

You see, ever since we moved into this house at the end of August, Callaghan and I have been debating what to do about our front and back lawns. Once we decided to keep the grass, we had to shift our focus to the issue of obtaining a lawnmower, and the never-ending lawnmower discussion ensued. New or used? Off the shelf or online? Online retailer or Craigslist or eBay or Amazon? Manual, thermal engine or electric motor? If electric, corded or cordless?

Riveting.

We’ve talked about lawnmowers more in the last month than I’d ever thought about lawnmowers in my entire life, so when the discussion finally ended and Callaghan suggested, “Why don’t you write a blog post about the lawnmower?” I could only hem and haw a little, like, “Um… yeeeah, maybe I could write about the lawnmower,” then conclude with a confession, “No… no. I really have nothing to say about the lawnmower.” I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or rain on his lawnmower parade, but honestly, he might as well have suggested that I write about a feline rectal thermometer. That would be another thing you’d purchase only because you absolutely need it, and you need it in order to perform a particular task, and that task is unpleasant. Yard work of any kind is my Number One most loathed house-related chore. I blame the Army for this. If I didn’t rake so many billions of leaves during peacetime in Germany, I might be more tolerant now. Anyway.

The end of the discussion was uneventful. Callaghan picked me up for lunch one day last week and announced, “Our lawnmower will arrive on the 30th!” There was no prelude, and a prelude wasn’t necessary, since the lawnmower conversation had been an ongoing thing for weeks. He forged ahead with the technical details.

“It has a Briggs and Stratton engine,” he said with a slight shade of resignation in his voice, “But it was the best lawnmower for the best price I could find.”

I knew he’d been hoping for a good deal on a lawnmower with a Honda engine. Lengthy debates with his Dad and many hours of online research had led him to the conclusion that a Honda engine was the way to go, and this was the part that turned the whole lawnmower thing into a valuable learning experience for me. The world of Honda had suddenly expanded to the realm of lawnmowers. Callaghan’s Dad proclaimed that the Briggs and Stratton lawnmower engines are the absolute worst, and he cautioned him against buying one.

But Callaghan arrived at his educated decision to get a lawnmower that happened to be powered by Briggs and Stratton, and then he ordered it and eagerly tracked the progress of the lawnmower’s shipping progress. On Friday, he reported that the lawnmower had arrived.

“It’s here! We got it!” Unmitigated glee. I was happy for him.

“You mean it’s here at the house?”

“No, it’s here in Phoenix. But it says that they won’t deliver it until Monday. I’m calling them to ask if we can pick it up.”

On the phone, he learned that the lawnmower was stashed somewhere in the back of a semi, so it would be impossible to get it before Monday. We ended up cancelling the yard sale we’d been planning for Sunday. The front lawn was a jungle and not at all fit for a yard sale. Plus, an aggressive storm system was moving in quickly, and we didn’t know how long that would last. (It turned out to be a good thing that we cancelled, too, because the sprinklers came on automatically at 8:00am on Sunday morning. That would have been an unfortunate occurrence during a yard sale, slap-stick comic relief notwithstanding. We’re still figuring out the sprinkler system.)

Finally, Monday arrived. “Today, we’re getting our lawnmower!” Callaghan sang as we got ready for breakfast. This was yesterday. And indeed, the lawnmower made it to our doorstep in the middle of the afternoon. It was like UPS had delivered the Holy Grail.

Callaghan texted me:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-lawnmowerscreenshot

 

A little while later, he messaged me a picture:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-lawnmowerscreenshot2

 

By the way, could someone explain why lawnmowers are often red? No, on second thought, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.

“You should totally write a blog post about this lawnmower,” Callaghan said, later, for the nth time.

“No,” I said, also for the nth time.

“Genesis thought it was a worthy subject!”

It took me a second.

“Genesis? As in, Phil Collins?” I thought he was joking.

“YES! He says, ‘Me, I’m a lawnmower.’”

“No way! Hahaha!!”

But he seemed to be serious. Later, my curiosity drove me into the bowels of the interwebs, where some things should stay deeply, deeply buried, like these lyrics from the old Genesis song “I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)” (first of all, WTF @ that title?!):

When the sun beats down and I lie on the bench,

I can always hear them talk.

Me, I’m just a lawnmower – you can tell me by the way I walk.

I am so not making this up:

 

 

I just can’t… I’m sorry, Genesis lawnmower song fans. I just don’t think this lawnmower thing works. And I apologize to the rest of you, too. What has been seen cannot be unseen, I know.

You know what does work perfectly, though? Take the Judas Priest song “Breaking the Law” and replace the lyrics “breaking the law” with “mowing the lawn.” There are some parodies already floating around out there – more than one person thought of it before I did – but seriously, it’s not even necessary to re-write the whole song! You can just replace those three little words and leave the rest of the song exactly the same. It’s brilliant:

There I was completely wasting, out of work and down

All inside it’s so frustrating as I drift from town to town

Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die

So I might as well begin to put some action in my life

 

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

 

So much for the golden future, I can’t even start

I’ve had every promise broken, there’s anger in my heart

You don’t know what it’s like, you don’t have a clue

If you did you’d find yourselves doing the same thing too

 

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn!

 

You don’t know what it’s like

 

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn

Mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn

 

If you’re not familiar with this song, you can listen to it here:

 

 

Can’t you just hear him chanting, mowing the lawn, mowing the lawn?

Anyway, I should totally play this for Callaghan while he’s out mowing the lawn for the first time. We’re both Judas Priest/Rob Halford fans, so it’ll work on several levels. For now, though, I’m lawnmowered out.

Will Work for Pants (+ OOTD)

That Asian-Looking Chick 3 Comments

Pants.

May I just rant about pants for a second? I have two pairs of pants – one brown, one beige – that I wear to work, neither of which are particularly flattering or nice. I mean, they’re okay, I guess. In terms of the workplace, they’re only a step above jeans by virtue of the fact that they’re not jeans. I’m always relieved when Friday arrives, because I feel justified in wearing jeans to work on Fridays, though I’ll sometimes wear them to work during the week, too. In addition to the brown and beige pants, I also have two pairs of black pants that I consider to be “work” pants. They aren’t great-looking, either (one is a pair of cords, and the other is a weird pair of black jeans, which I consider to be nice enough to qualify as not-jeans). All four pairs of pants are uncomfortable in one way or another. I’m most comfortable wearing regular jeans or leggings; I’ll actually put on leggings once a week more often than I will the black jeans. During an average five-day work week, I’ll rotate through them… the brown, beige, black, leggings or weird black jeans, and regular jeans on Fridays.

My ridiculous angst over pants is due to the fact that I HATE SHOPPING FOR PANTS. I know that it wouldn’t hurt to invest a little in my work wardrobe, but it’s hard to muster the enthusiasm when I’d rather go to the dentist than go shopping for pants. If my work attire could be anything I wanted, I’d go in work-out/athletic clothing. I do, in fact, have one pair of flowy black athletic pants in some kind of stretchy spandex-blend that I can get away with wearing to work. Unfortunately, they’re old and worn-out to the point where they’ve developed a pill issue.

You can understand, then, that when my eyeballs wandered over an ad for “yoga-style pants for the office” the other day, I clicked on the link with high hopes:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-dresspantyogapants

 

I immediately honed in on the pair I would order. I know what I like. I would get the boot-flare cut in black:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-dresspantyogapantsbootflare

 

And look at that! They’re beautiful, and they’re only $79.20, because they’re 10% off! WHAT A STEAL.

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-dresspantyogapantstwo

 

I partially went through the process of ordering them, just to see. Ground shipping, the least expensive shipping option, is $6.95, bringing the pre-tax subtotal to $86.15. Add an additional $5.60 for (California) sales tax, and these pants cost $91.75.

In my view, it’s a cruel joke to make comfy, work-appropriate yoga pants and advertise them for $80.00. I mean, I just can’t. And this is one of my issues with shopping for work clothing: I’m willing to throw eighty bucks down for some things, but pants aren’t one of them.

I don’t like to spend money on clothing. I’m guilty of spending more than I should on things like skin care products, perfumes, concert tickets and food (on high-quality groceries, and on eating out), and I’ll splurge on a pedicure every once in a while, mainly to get the lower leg and foot massage. I’m not a clothes-shopping person. I’m not a jewelry person or a shoe person, either. I do like bags, but not expensive ones. I like Target, the Goodwill, Ross, Marshall’s, and it’s just painful shopping for pants in those places. The very idea of flipping through a hundred pairs of pants that all look the same (except that they’re not) leaves me cold.

There are other, random places, sure. One store in the mall I venture into every once in a while is Charlotte Russe, because I usually find things there that I like, and often, those things that I find are on the clearance rack. And I like to get jeans at Old Navy (when they’re having a sale)… Old Navy and Target.

I still have many of the dresses and skirts I habitually wore to work a decade ago, but I’m not into wearing them anymore, for some reason. Not only that, but there’d be a strategic issue with wearing skirts to work now: I sit on a physio/balance ball instead of on a chair, and my desk doesn’t have a “modesty panel.” My desk is out in the open, facing people walking into that area. Are you getting a visual here? You know how I’m prone to embarrassing incidents at work? Yeah. That would totally happen to me. So, pants. No crotch shots. PANTS.

While I love the idea of these “Black Dress Pant Yoga Pants (Boot-Flare) $79.20 $88 (10% Off),” there’s just no way I’m spending a total of $91.75 on ONE pair of pants when I could get several from any of the cheaper places for that same price. I guess I know what I’m doing one weekend in the near future.

Here’s what I’m wearing to work today:

 

FRIDAY!

FRIDAY!

 

Happy Friday!

 

 

La Tour Eiffel, she is everywhere.

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

It seems that I started noticing the Eiffel Tower printed on clothing and other things right when we moved back to Arizona last November. That’s when I became aware of the trend, anyway… the Eiffel Tower could have been a popular motif in apparel and home décor fashion for much longer.

At first, I was charmed to happen upon the occasional Eiffel Tower, because the Eiffel Tower is one of my favorite things about France. It’s actually my favorite monument of the monuments I’ve seen in the world, as you may recall me mentioning before. Hence, I own more than a few Eiffel Tower-emblazoned things, myself. A sleeveless t-shirt here. A light sweater there. A French friend gave me a small photo of the Eiffel Tower in a white frame (from the store – I chose it)! A small ring holder in the shape of the Eiffel Tower sits on the dresser. The first Eiffel Tower in my collection, the drawing that Callaghan bought for me when we were there one day (at the Eiffel Tower), hangs in our living room, and of course, there’s the token Eiffel Tower magnet on the refrigerator. And that’s just a sampling of examples. There are more.

So, I started seeing Eiffel Towers plastered all over tarnation last November, but in the almost-year since we’ve been back in AZ? Instead of trailing off into the oblivion that follows a robust trend, the Eiffel Tower not only pressed forward, but it exploded into a frenzy of mass marketing. It’s everywhere, on everything, all over the place… especially, it seems, in the kind of discount stores we favor, such as Target, Marshall’s/T.J. Maxx and Ross. There’s no shortage of Eiffel Towers in these places. If you want it in your house or on your person, you may have it, and for very good prices. The quantities and varieties of Eiffel Towers migrating to the United States from China are staggering.

When I brought this up the other day, Callaghan said, “Yeah. I’m trying to get away from there, and the Eiffel Tower is running after me.”

Here, enjoy some random Eiffel Tower store sightings:

 

The Eiffel Tower on hat boxes.

The Eiffel Tower on hat boxes.

 

 

The Eiffel Tower on canvas.

The Eiffel Tower on canvas.

 

 

The Eiffel Tower on a hook board.

The Eiffel Tower on a hook board.

 

 

The Eiffel Tower on bathroom accessories.

The Eiffel Tower on bathroom accessories.

 

 

The Eiffel Tower on a knit top.

The Eiffel Tower on a knit top.

 

 

And, while we're at it, let's not forget the fleur de lys (more ubiquitous now than ever, as well).

And, while we’re at it, let’s not forget the fleur de lys (more ubiquitous now than ever, as well).

 

I’m not sure if it’s the Eiffel Tower, specifically, or the city of Paris itself that’s all the rage right now. The Eiffel Tower has become synonymous with Paris, so it could be either. And honestly, I don’t mind that Eiffel Towers jump into my face every time I turn around. I could be ambushed by worse things, for sure.

So I’m not complaining here… I’m more nonplussed than anything, and maybe I feel just a little bit like the plethora of Eiffel Towers cheapens the experience of her somehow. It’s like seeing your lover’s face depicted, suddenly, on clothing worn by other people. Poor Eiffel Tower! If monuments were songs, she’d be the most over-played one by a mile. Being everywhere takes the edge off her splendor; it’s hard to be one-of-a-kind and de rigueur at the same time.

On his part, Callaghan is in disgust. He loves the Eiffel Tower as much as I do, and he likes all of our Eiffel Towers, but he rolls his eyes at the herds of Eiffel Towers roaming through stores.

 

The Eiffel Tower on a shopping bag.

The Eiffel Tower on a shopping bag.

MISSING: A Tale of Woe (A Story in Pictures)

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

It was a dark and stormy night bright day two months ago when Salazar vanished. In case you didn’t know, Salazar is the identical twin brother of Umberto. I clearly remember posting this picture of the forlorn Umberto to my instagram:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-MissingSalazar

 

The twin donkeys were close, and Salazar’s disappearance was an utter calamity. Umberto has been devastated, and I, myself, having gotten used to their company after working a good part of the summer in otherwise near-solitude, have also been missing Salazar.

As people began milling around the workplace more toward the end of summer, I’d occasionally ask after Salazar. No one seemed to have a clue as to his whereabouts. In fact, for reasons I can’t fathom, no one seemed to even take me seriously.

Salazar remains missing to this day. Meanwhile, this notice has been affixed to our prominent yellow pegboard:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-CoopersMissingVGA

 

It was there when I got to work yesterday morning. I walked past it all day, and I couldn’t help but think, If that pegboard is now functioning as a message board, I ought to add a notice of my own.

A missing adapter in need of his medication can’t be the only hapless thing to deserve a “Missing” notice on a gigantic bright yellow pegboard that one encounters immediately when entering our space. Surely, Umberto deserves to have a flyer made to help find his brother.

As luck would have it, le graphiste extraordinaire was up to the task last night. Thanks to Callaghan, I shall be bringing this notice with me to work this morning:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-UmbertosMissingBrother

 

But here’s the twist: Callaghan also found that he happens to have the very same kind of adapter as advertised in Cooper’s “Missing” notice. (These things happen when you’re unpacking after a move. Random things turn up in odd places.) He found it with Ronnie James, who was sitting at the table with a look of expectation and a mysterious vibe about him.

 

HAI. I CAN HAZ UR ADAPTER.

HAI. I CAN HAZ UR ADAPTER.

 

The result of which, of course, is this second notice that I’m bringing with me to work today:

 

thatasianlookingchick.com-WRANSOM-NOTE

 

And that, my friends, is why it’s always a good idea to lock up your stuff if your desk is out in the open. This is really more of a cautionary tale than a tale of woe. You’re welcome.

Happy Friday, All!

Fun with sleep deprivation.

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

I’ve been more scarce than usual online these last two weeks, and I haven’t been sleeping as much as I should. This has less to do with the rooster named Moe next door and more to do with the fact that I’m semi-obsessed with unpacking the whole house within a ridiculous (self-imposed) time-frame.

One consequence of not getting enough sleep is a tendency to see things, as in, to look at something and see something else. I’ve been taking quite a few second and third looks lately, checking to see if what I’m seeing is really what I’m seeing.

The other day, I stepped outside and saw this:

 

Callaghan fiddling with the backyard sprinklers.

Callaghan fiddling with the backyard sprinklers.

 

After I realized that Callaghan was trying to troubleshoot a broken sprinkler, I went to grab my phone. He was so intent on figuring out the problem that he wasn’t aware that I was taking pictures as he adjusted the stream of water. He thought I was just being weird, laughing for no reason. (I can’t imagine why he’d think that.)

 

He didn't get why I was laughing...

He didn’t get why I was laughing…

 

Then there was the time I spotted a questionable box in a jewelry store, tucked away behind the counter. This was on Friday afternoon, when I finally – finally! – had an opportunity to take my watch in to get the battery replaced. (I cannot tell you what an immense relief it was to address this issue. My watch had been dead for almost two weeks, and it was maddening to reflexively glance at my wrist fifty times a day only to see “5:20” every time.)

So I’m standing there and my eyes wander behind the counter, and this is what I see on the floor behind the sales representative:

 

Alarming discovery in the jewelry store.

Alarming discovery in the jewelry store.

 

…a box containing a puppy in 14 pieces, “country of origin CHINA.”

The jewelry store lady didn’t see the humor in it, but how was I supposed to know that a jewelry store was using stuffed animals for promotional (or whatever) purposes, especially when there were no stuffed animals in sight?

Then there’s this:

 

This trio of characters is the first thing I see when I walk into work every day.

This trio of characters is the first thing I see when I walk into work every day.

 

This scene changes every day, sometimes several times a day. I never know what I’m going to see when I walk in.

Have a great Tuesday, All!

The First-World Problems of an English Major.

That Asian-Looking Chick Leave a comment

A fact of life: One never knows how many Stephen King books one owns until one moves. And yes, “Stephen King” is an adjective.

Decent progress has been made in the unpacking arena. I’ve now arrived at the books part of it, and… and nothing. I’ve just arrived. And I’ve taken the books out of the boxes – go me! But that’s where my victory dance ends, because now I have to decide how to sort all the books, and for some reason, I’m overwhelmed.

Well, I know why. It’s because this move is the last move for the foreseeable future; as far as I’m concerned, this abode is the forever abode, so my OCD-tendency-leaning self won’t let me get away with shoving books on the shelves every which way “because we’re going to move one day anyway” anymore.

I’ve carried books around with me all of my life. Over the years, I’ve sold, traded, donated and given away hundreds of books. I’ve lost some; I’ve “lent” some. But somehow, I still always move with at least ten good-size boxes of books.  My current collection includes some that I’d left in France (a pile of Shakespeare and some Russian lit, some of them duplicates, mysteriously enough) in my attempt to bring down the weight of our overseas shipping, and I have a small stack set aside for a garage sale we’re planning in the upcoming weeks. Still, I’m now confronted by piles like this:

 

Book piles in the living room.

Book piles in the living room.

 

And this:

 

Piles of books on the desk in the guest bedroom.

Piles of books on the desk in the guest bedroom.

 

And that’s not all of it. I also have a pile of books about Buddhism/eastern philosophy beneath the Butsudan, a pile of cookbooks tucked away in the kitchen, a pile of random books on the big bookcase in the dining area and a smattering of books in my office. And these are all just my books we’re talking about… Callaghan, too, has lots of books in his office.

This is what the inside of my mind looks like when I’m standing before these books:

Should I group them by century? Should I separate the American lit from the British lit? Should I separate them by century and group the Americans and Brits within the centuries? Should I group all the anthologies together, or should I put the poetry anthologies in the poetry section? Should I mix the pocket-size books with the trade paper and hardcover books? If I lump all the pocketbooks together, should I organize them by genre, or alphabetically by author, or both? Should I categorize the books by genre, only? Should I nest genres within nationalities within centuries (i.e. 19th-century British Romantics)? Should I mesh poetry and prose within those groupings, or should I keep poetry and prose separate? And which groups should I position where in the bookcase? Should I group the Russian lit alongside the British lit alongside the American lit, or would the Russian lit make more sense neighboring the philosophy section? Should I line the entire top of the bookshelves with poetry volumes, using them to bridge the two? Should I shelve the poets in alphabetical order? How should I organize the poetry… by era, or by style? If the era and style are inseparable (as with the confessionalists, the post-modern poets, the New York School, the avant-garde imagists, the Black Mountain poets, etc.), should I attempt to merge all the books similarly? What about my textbooks and essays about poetry and prose… should I put them with their authors, or in a category of their own? Should I put the surrealism section next to the magical realism section, or should I put the surrealists next to the poets? Should I put the biographies and autobiographies of poets and authors with the books those poets and authors have authored, or should I make a separate category for biographies and autobiographies? What about the smaller sections like classical Greek lit, medieval lit and non-Shakespearean drama? Should I separate Shakespeare’s poetry from his dramas, or keep them all together in the Elizabethan section? (Would it be weirder to have a poetry section without Shakespeare’s poems, or to have a Shakespeare section without his poems?) What about the contemporary literature? The non-fiction? Should I separate the political non-fiction from the general non-fiction? What about creative non-fiction? What about my western religious texts? The feminist texts? Should I group my books in French together, separate from the books in English, or should I merge them?

Etc., etc., etc., ad infinitum, ad nauseam.

I’ve been staring at these piles of books for a few days now.

I’ve already decided to put reference books and instructional books, including all of my French grammar books and dictionaries, in the big bookshelf in the dining area.

I’m hoping that somehow, my collections of Laura Ingalls Wilder, Nancy Drew, Agatha Christie, Stephen King, Lee Child, J.K. Rowling, Anne Rice and the like, along with random other books, will all fit in the tall, narrow bookcase in the guest bedroom. I like the idea of stocking that room with brain candy for visitors who are on vacation (Callaghan’s going to add some books in French for our visitors from France).

None of these considerations came into play in the apartment we’d just vacated. I knew it was temporary, so I created double rows of books in some parts and didn’t care that the ones in the back rows weren’t visible. In this house, though, I want to be able to see every single book, and I want to be able to find books easily. In the past, I’d typically arranged books alphabetically, by author. I’m craving that level of organization in my life again because I’m craving rootedness. I feel like if my books are in order, then my life will be in order. When I was a kid in grade school, some of my friends used to tease me about my reading, saying, Kristi’s going to turn into a book! Maybe that’s finally happened.

On that note, I’m off to spend the day away from the office, going to appointments, seeing people, running errands, and so on. Happy Friday, All!

Our Halloween Laundry Room

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On Friday, I wrote about the heartwarming qualities of a well-maintained, staffed Laundromat. It’s entirely coincidental that this morning’s post is also about a laundry space. On Saturday, before I’d decided what to write about for today, Callaghan and I stood in our new laundry room at home talking about the most important feature of that room, which is, of course, that it makes me think of the laundry room in the horror film Halloween. Because we all know that no laundry room is complete without the mental image of a masked killer standing outside of it, watching as you blithely go about the business of doing your laundry.

That original Halloween from 1978? Stands out in my memory as being the movie that sparked my interest in the horror genre, which has long since been one of my favorite film genres. I find the laundry room scene in that movie to be a wonderful scene, especially because it arrives at that moment.

You know that moment. It’s the moment in a cheesy horror movie wherein the tension gathers itself into a jagged-edged ball with frayed, stripped wires poking out all over the place before it begins its bouncing, chaotic journey downhill, picking up speed and snagging everything along the way until it slams to a halt with everyone (except that one, token survivor) dead at the end. (Long aside: It’s fun if the survivor is the one person that you’d predicted would escape. Sometimes, a horror movie starts and some characters have DEAD written all over them from the very beginning, right? We like to make predictions within the first 15 minutes. “He’s dead.” “She’ll be the first to go.” “That person’s going to be the one who stays alive.” It’s actually the most satisfying when we’re wrong, though, because being wrong means that the movie wasn’t as predictable as we’d thought it would be.)

Taken out of context, this scene from Halloween isn’t particularly creepy, but it’s brilliant in its place (no gore here):

 

 

I honestly don’t know why this came to mind on Saturday. Our laundry room isn’t especially creepy. Maybe it’s because the start of the fall semester means that fall is near, which, in turn, signals the approach of Halloween, bringing to mind the movie Halloween. Whatever the case, Callaghan and I had the chance to discuss the matter gravely.

“This reminds me of the laundry room scene in Halloween,” I said as we stood in the laundry room. It was empty. The washer and dryer were to be delivered later that day.

“What scene?”

“Remember that scene? The girl is babysitting, she goes out to the laundry room – it’s night – and the killer is there, creeping around outside. This is like that laundry room.”

We were having this conversation because our laundry room is only accessible from the backyard. It’s connected to the main house, but you can’t walk through. The only other time I’d seen a laundry room like that was in Halloween.

 

Our laundry room at night, not creepy at all under the patio's two bright lights.

Our laundry room at night, not creepy at all under the patio’s two bright lights.

 

“In this laundry room,” Callaghan said as he looked around, “the only place for the killer to hide is behind the door. So you enter it by kicking the door in really hard… and then there’s no more killer!” With his French accent, he pronounced it “keeler.”

But the killer would be wilier than that, I thought. I could picture how it would happen. The killer would crouch around the corner, or, if the patio lights were out, in the inside corner of the patio.

 

The laundry room in the dark.

The laundry room in the dark.

 

I’m not really concerned, though. The laundry room is spacious, but it’s narrow, and other than the one on the door, there are no windows. That means that I would have the advantage.

All of this makes me think of American Horror Story: Freak Show with increasing anticipation. We can’t wait for the return of Jessica Lange, Sarah Paulsen, Kathy Bates, Angela Bassett, Even Peters, Emma Roberts, et al! October 8… only a month away!

 

 

Musings in a Laundromat

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It’s Thursday, 7:45pm, and I’m in the Laundromat, waiting. I just put two loads into two washers. Each will take 30 minutes. One is an industrial-size machine for heavy things like the large quilt I’d brought, and the other is the next largest size. I didn’t take the time to separate anything by color today… it’s all washing in cold water, anyway.

I don’t think this will be the last time I’m here. We’re getting a washer and dryer for the house, but I’ll likely continue to use public machines for things like the big, heavy quilt.

 

Our neighborhood Laundromat.

Our neighborhood Laundromat.

 

We’ve been doing our laundry in this public Laundromat for the last few months, since our apartment complex tore down their large one in order to re-build. It’s a spacious, staffed Laundromat, and it hasn’t been unpleasant. Laundry isn’t a chore that I dislike in the first place, but also, it turns out that the business of doing laundry in a Laundromat appeals to me on several levels.

I find the layers of white noise in the Laundromat to be soothing. There’s the murmur of the T.V. in the corner, swishing water and turning dryers, clothes spinning and tumbling, the faint clanging of metal on metal and the opening and closing of machine doors. There’s the casino-like sound of change machines and vending machines, video games, traffic on the street outside, the air conditioner and ceiling fans. There’s the sound of random human interaction like people talking to each other and on the phone, phones ringing, children playing and babies making their baby sounds. There are people singing and laughing. Altogether, the sounds in the Laundromat create a unique and comforting acoustic mosaic.

At this very moment, a Mom and her young daughter – the daughter looks to be 10-11 years old – are folding clothes together and singing “These Boots are Made for Walking,” and I can’t stop smiling. They’ve created a bubble around themselves with music, bonding happily and lovingly over a common chore. They’re enjoying themselves, and that joy is infectious.

In the company of strangers doing their laundry, I’m filled with a sense of connectedness. We’re people brought under this roof by the basic need to clean our clothing, bedding, towels, etc. This is a place of purpose: we’re here to ensure our personal comfort and health, and I know that every person in the room is going to leave this place feeling a sense of accomplishment. There’s something fantastically special about knowing this.

The Laundromat draws in all walks of life, yet the space emphasizes our sameness, and I love that. There’s no rich or poor here. The need to do laundry is a great common denominator, and there’s an unexpected intimacy in doing laundry with strangers. When we come to the Laundromat on a Saturday or Sunday, especially, I often see many people wearing clothing that has obviously been designated for Laundry Day. It’s like we’re all in a big house, padding around in our jammies. It makes for a pleasant non-interactive interaction with folks. Somehow, I feel a profound sense of kinship with humanity in the public Laundromat, and that, in a world that can be so venomous, is a blessing.

I’ll close on that note, because my time is up.

Postscript: Happy Friday!

What I’m Digging Right Now – August Favorites

That Asian-Looking Chick 2 Comments

August was interesting. It brought death, storm destruction, unpleasant dental work and a diagnosis of asthma for the Ronnie James. It also brought much in the way of good times, a new home and a new job for Callaghan.

At work, the fall semester started, and my Monday that week was epic: I started it first thing in the morning at home by spilling a full, large mug of coffee all over myself, the couch, the floor and the inside of my bag, which was sitting (open, of course) on the floor. How to start your day! Bathe in hot coffee! Such literal, caffeinated ablutions sanitize the early-morning mind. That’s how I saw it. Too bad about the almond milk, though.

Coffee scent still wafts out of my bag every time I open it. It’s not a terrible thing.

On that note, let’s start with entertainment!

 

1). The Killing (T.V. series)

 

thatasianlookingchick.cm-the-killing-season-4-poster

 

Netflix released the fourth and final season of The Killing on August first, and we greedily absorbed it all in two days. It’s over now, and we’re sad about that, but I’ll tell you what… rarely has the final episode of a series felt so satisfying.

I think I’ve said this before, but it’s worth repeating: we’re hard-pressed to explain how The Killing’s Linden and Holder endeared themselves to us so completely.  Our favorite aspect of watching the series was witnessing the development of these characters and their partnership over the arc of the four seasons, but in fact, we loved everything about it. We found the haunting crime drama to be intriguing and masterfully-paced. The city of Seattle was depicted as mostly rainy and gray, and it seemed to be cast as a character in and of itself to gorgeous effect, veiled more in lyricism than grunge. The actors’ performances were exceptional. The plotlines for each of the seasons kept us quietly on edge. We enjoyed seasons one, two and four the most, but each season built on the last while revolving around unique plotlines (with the exception of season two, which was part two of the opening season’s storyline). Overall, we would say that The Killing is a brilliant and underrated series.

This brings to mind an incident that occurred in the store the other day: I was approached by a guy who wanted to know whether we had cable at home (evidently he worked for a cable company), and when I said no, he asked why not. I answered, “Because Netflix.” He was annoyed (maybe because I laughed, which was probably rude, now that I think about it) and pretty much stalked away with a black cloud over his head. At least we didn’t upset him more by telling him about the other internet resources we use for watching all kinds of movies and T.V. series!

 

2). Rage in the Cage (August 9, 2014).

 

Rage in the Cage at the Celebrity Theatre was good times!

Rage in the Cage at the Celebrity Theatre was good times!

 

It’d been too long since I’d attended a combat sports event at the Celebrity Theatre, so when our friend and Body Combat instructor said that she could get us a good deal on tickets because she was going to be working the event as a ring card girl, we gladly seized the opportunity. Not only was it fun to see Izzy at the event (it was like a preview of her participation in the natural physique competition she ended up dominating at the end of the month!), but the fights provided rock-solid entertainment. It was awesome to see that two of the night’s winners hailed from Arizona Combat Sports, the gym where I’d trained in Muay Thai back in its earlier days. The next Rage in the Cage event is in October, and we’re looking forward to it!

 

3). White peaches.

 

The white peaches have been so good, we haven't been able to get enough.

The white peaches have been so good, we haven’t been able to get enough.

 

We devoured white peaches all month… the ones at our favorite Fry’s were fabulous (maybe they still are), and we couldn’t get enough of them! You know how it is when you bite deeply into a piece of fruit and it’s just so satisfying on every level? It’s like that with these peaches. They’re sweet, fragrant, juicy and dense. For me, nothing signals or defines summer as convincingly as certain stone fruits – peaches, cherries, apricots and plums.

 

4). Vegan donuts at Whole Foods.

 

Why?! And why do they have to be so good?

Why?! And why do they have to be so good?

 

Leave it to our favorite Whole Paycheck Foods store to start stocking their bakery with vegan donuts. There’s nothing healthy about these deep fried, refined carb- and sugar-loaded delectables; “vegan” isn’t necessarily synonymous with “healthy,” and treats like these donuts are a great case in point. I feel a bit sheepish admitting that I’ve eaten something like five of them since I discovered them just a few weeks ago. Now I need to develop a will power specific to these donuts. Or not.

 

5). Little Ranch House in the Desert.

We’ve been in our new house for two days, and we all love it! We feel like we’re home, and all the space is a wonderful novelty for the kitties. We adopted them from a small apartment in France, and they’ve lived in nothing but equally small spaces up until this move. It’s been funny watching them here… it’s like, they have so much space, they don’t know where to go first. The bed is still their headquarters of choice, though.

 

Day One in the new house: Ronnie James purring in contentment on our bed.

Day One in the new house: Ronnie James purring in contentment on our bed.

 

6). Framed “Not Cal” decal.

 

NOT CAL in a frame!

NOT CAL in a frame!

 

I finally got this second NOT CAL decal framed! I put it in my new home office, of course. I love it.

 

7). göt2b Guardian Angel Gloss Finish Flat Iron Balm.

 

The hair product that guards against heat even when you don't use heat.

The hair product that guards against heat even when you don’t use heat.

 

This is good stuff. I picked this up in August thinking that I would start using my straight-iron again, but I discovered that I like what it does just by itself, as a leave-in treatment on dry hair. It adds a little something (I don’t even know what, really) that I like to my hair.

 

8). Manifesto (perfume).

 

Manifesto, the way to end the summer.

Manifesto, the way to end the summer.

 

In August, I started wearing “Manifesto,” which caught my eye because of its name. It amused me because of the Unibomber. (Not that I in any way condone, support or agree with the Unibomber and his activities, mind you. Just… you know. Manifesto.) Then, of course, there was the fragrance, itself! Made by Yves St. Laurent, it’s lovely with its body of white flowers, woods and vanilla. I think it bridges the summer and fall gorgeously.

(I wear perfume strictly for myself, by the way… because I like it, and because of what it evokes for me. I wore fragrance long before I ever wore makeup. It’s a personal thing.)

 

9). Paws jewelry.

 

Favorite impulse buy of the month: paws jewelry from Michael's. (Photo from instagram.)

Favorite impulse buy of the month: paws jewelry from Michael’s. (Photo from instagram.)

 

We were on an errand at Michael’s when I saw this cheap little set of costume jewelry. Paws. They were near a Halloween-themed display, so they may have been a part of that, which would make sense… I’m more prone to impulse-buying when Halloween things are out than any other time of the year.

 

This brings us to Ronnie James’ and Nounours’ “Favorites” pick for August!

 

10). Feliway.

 

A Feliway'd Nounours on the eve of our move.

A Feliway’d Nounours on the eve of our move.

 

Feliway is a product consisting of synthetic feline pheromones – undetectable by humans – emitted by a plug-in device similar to a plug-in air freshener. Our vet prescribed it to Ronnie James as a part of his treatment plan for anxiety, which was aggravating his asthma and causing him to over-groom himself. It works, and it works really well! Feliway mellows kitties like nothing I’ve ever seen before. We had the first one in our bedroom in the apartment before we moved, and now, in the house, we have an additional one – so, one in the living room, and another in our bedroom. Kitty bliss. =)

 

That wraps up my “little things” favorites list for August. Welcome, September!

Little Ranch House in the Desert

That Asian-Looking Chick 4 Comments

In my “July Favorites” post (that seems all too recent), I mentioned an on-going adventure that consumed the month. It actually started on the last weekend of June, and the situation changed so frequently from the very start that we just decided not to mention it until the end. That brings us to today. We’re moving!

No need for alarm. We’re only moving down the street this time. Heheh.

We loved our apartment, truly. It was peaceful, and we appreciated the unfettered feeling of renting rather than owning our living space. Having lived in many apartments and owned properties in the past, I’ve always felt more comfortable as a renter than as a homeowner. But over the last few months, several compelling reasons to reconsider welled up.

One, we needed more space. Callaghan used the larger of the apartment’s two bedrooms for his studio, but still, the room overflowed with the accoutrements of his multifaceted craft… plus, we also had to use that space for storage, making it even more cramped.

Two, we weren’t properly set up to host guests, and when your guests mostly come from Europe for longer stays, that’s a big deal. Two of our visitors from France slept on an air mattress we put in the middle of said cramped studio room at night, which wasn’t very comfortable for anyone, and the third – a couple and their daughter – stayed in a hotel (yet somehow, they were the ones who accidentally saw me naked).

Three, I didn’t have an office, and I had been sorely feeling that lack of a dedicated writing space. Obviously, I can survive without one, but I just reached some kind of limit after several years of officelessness. I needed that room of one’s own, to echo Virginia Woolf. Since 2010, I’ve been carving out little office spaces for myself here and there by placing a small desk in the corner of a crowded room, usually the bedroom. I longed for an office again.

Four, nearing the end of our apartment lease, we discovered that our rent would be raised upon re-signing. We had to make a decision.

All of this led to the final thing (and the catalyst for everything) that happened: I was half-joking around one night at the end of June when I filled out a form online. Next thing we knew, we were swept into the eye of the house-hunting storm that defined the months of July and August.

It’s a good time to buy, and looking for a house was fun. The twists and turns of our search initially took us out of our preferred area, but eventually, a house right down the street from our apartment appeared on the market. It happened at precisely the right time, and it happened that we both loved it at first sight, and it happened that our inspector found it to be in excellent condition (unlike the previous house we’d almost committed to buying).

Built in 1958, the house is your standard four-bedroom/two-bathroom ranch-style abode so common here out west. It has everything we need, and nothing we don’t. It was critical to us that we didn’t get more house than we absolutely needed. Most importantly, its location is ideal. The appraiser recorded the house as being situated “1.5 miles from the center of the ASU campus, in a highly sought after area of old town Tempe,” and that’s exactly where we wanted to be.

 

Little Ranch House in the Desert

Little Ranch House in the Desert

 

The house-buying process was almost complete when the universe, in a flamboyant move to confirm our decision – just in case we were having doubts! – hurtled a spectacular monsoon into our apartment neighborhood, knocking out our power, taking down trees and permanently altering the botanical composition in front of our balcony. It’s still lush and green out there, but suddenly, the tree house effect that had so captivated us in the apartment was gone! We were sad for the destruction of the trees on our street, but it was a magnificent storm.

 

Our apartment is the in the upper left....

Our apartment is the in the upper left….

 

The storm made quite an impact on our street!

The storm made quite an impact on our street!

 

I don't think anyone was hurt, though.

I don’t think anyone was hurt, though.

 

It was the one good storm of the season.

It was the one good storm of the season.

 

We got the keys last night, and this weekend will be all about the move. It is, in fact, happening, and I’ll be so glad when it’s over and we’re unpacked and organized! I’ve been fantasizing about an organized life with a place for everything for years, it seems. It’s amazing. I’ll have an office, and Callaghan will have a studio that’s just a studio, and visitors will have a guest bedroom and bathroom, and Ronnie James and Nounours will have lots of running-around space, and there will be no shortage of storage space, either.

So, that’s the story behind this latest move into this latest dwelling, which we see as being a Very Long-Term Situation. It’s sweet. It’s a sweet little house, and we’re grateful to have gotten it. We got lucky, is what we got.

Happy Friday!

Callaghan’s new pick-up line at the gym (calves edition).

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Ever since Callaghan started lifting weights seriously… so that would be since March… he’s been in the habit of commenting on the size of the calves he sees on men in the gym. His remarks are always in the context of the proportion of the guy’s calves to the rest of his body, usually to the effect of, “I saw this guy and I don’t understand why guys refuse to work their calves! This one guy’s upper body was massive, but his calves were like twigs! I never forget to work my calves. I don’t want to look like that.” After which we spend a half hour or so debating genetics vs. strength-training for calf muscle shape and development, the merits of various types of calf exercises, plastic surgery (faking it with calf implants) and sheer negligence in training the calves.

 

Random calves in action at the gym.

Random calves in action at the gym.

 

I’ve gotten so used to Callaghan vocalizing his observations that when he starts a sentence with “There was this guy in the gym,” I already know that the guy’s calves are the subject of the sentence. Also, I know that there’s a 95% chance that his remark is going to be unfavorable. Every once in a while, he’ll tell me about a guy he saw with well-proportioned calves. And there’s one guy in particular whose calves he greatly admires. I remember the first time he mentioned him.

“There was this guy in the gym,” he began. He’d just come home.

“…and he had skinny little calves,” I finished for him.

“No! His calves were beautiful!” he exclaimed, surprising me. He went on to effusively praise the beauty and magnificence of not only the guy’s calves, but of his entire physique.

After that, every time Callaghan saw this guy in the gym, I heard about it afterward.

Then Callaghan started working full-time and had to cut back significantly on his weight-lifting. He still does the Body Combat classes with me twice a week, but for now, he’s only lifting weights on Wednesday evenings (while I’m in boot camp class), and sometimes once on the weekend, usually on Sundays.

“I haven’t seen the guy with the beautiful calves in a long time,” he said at one point. But on Wednesday night last week, when I met up with him after our respective workouts, he gushed, “You know how I said I haven’t seen the guy with the beautiful calves in a long time? He was here tonight, and he came up to me and said, ‘Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.’”

“Hahaha!!” I didn’t know why I thought that was hilarious, but for some reason, I did.

“His name is John. He introduced himself. I asked him, ‘Wow, what do you do to have beautiful calves like that?’”

That was exactly what Callaghan said. Imagine it in a French accent. Quite a pick-up line!

“What did he say?”

“That he has to thank his Mom. So I wanted to ask if his Mom had big calves, too,” he said, starting to laugh. “But I didn’t. Although I don’t think he would’ve minded.”

So we know that in this case of the Guy with Beautiful Calves, it’s genetics at play… and maybe it’s the beginning of a beautiful new gym bromance for Callaghan. The immediate effect of this whole thing, though, which I find kind of distracting, is that now I’m always checking out the lower legs on the males of our species. Yesterday, when I was talking to a guy at work, I found myself staring at his calves and thinking, he has nice calves! I laughed, but not out loud.