Forbidden City Ballet

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I’m perfectly normally perfect

Monday, March 31st, 2014

Late last year, I went on an emergency kit binge to prepare ourselves for the “big one.” I clearly remember members of my household silently judging my neurotic behaviour with their wide-eyed-side-glances, attributing my eccentricities to spikes in estrogen. But then, only five or so months later, what happened? BAM! EARTHQUAKESAFTERSHOCKSPRESHOCKS! Ohhhhhhhh I could’t help gloat over my spidey senses and tell everyone my “TOLD YOU SO” story. Now I assume prices have went up on anything emergency-related. That’s America for you– RE-active & opportunistic.

That said, earthquakes scare me. I’ll never be totally prepared. There are worse things, though not a whole lot, than your home violently convulsing and purging your belongings, but I’ll never welcome the pounding sound of a momentary collapse of the world. So scary, so scary.

I told my husband the other day that if we all lived in tents in the middle of a dirt clearing, we wouldn’t have to worry about earthquakes.

I remember those distant carefree memories when I was single, selfish, independent, reckless, utterly happy. That’s what it feels like to not have a responsibility in the world besides yourself. Then I bumped into the love of my life, married him, and thus became loved, worried, cynical, vigilant, doting, elated. A few years after, we collaborated to produce the most beautiful specimen in the world. So now I’m a paranoid, neurotic, obsessive compulsive germ-a-phobe who lacks sleep not because my baby doesn’t sleep through the night (she’s a fantastic sleeper now), oh no, because i have to make sure she’s breathing, every second. OK that’s an exaggeration, every six seconds. But I wouldn’t change anything in the my world, not-one-thing. Because that’s what it feels like to mature into a meaningful person.


Short Story: “Shit.”

Thursday, July 18th, 2013

Atop her bed was a heap of conservative wear that did not meet the cut for tonight’s meet-the-parents dinner.  With thirty minutes until show time, Bea frantically sifted through her closet for an intellectual, virginal-looking dress, which, if she had paused to collect her thoughts, would realize didn’t exist in her wardrobe.


Are you OK?”  Bea’s roommate, Janet, had returned home from her fancy investment-banking job.


Annoyed by the disruption, Bea turned her attention from the closet toward her door, armed with a telling scowl when she noticed the simple, black, knee-length dress that practically screamed intact-hymen.


JANET!  Quick! Take off your dress! I need it for tonight’s dinner at Kenny’s parent’s house! PLEASEEEE!”


Janet didn’t need an explanation, as she was familiar with Bea’s impending parental introduction that Bea had been dreading as well as whining about for the past three weeks.  She also knew that Bea did not own a single decent dress with fabric that stretched more than an inch below her butt cheeks.  With that, Janet went into her room to remove her dress.



The dinner at Kenny’s parent’s mansion was going surprisingly very well.  With sincere interest and zeal for getting to know the lucky girl who snatched their son’s heart, the parents bombarded Bea with a host of questions about her life as a street artist.  To her surprise, Bea had discovered Mr. and Mrs. Martinez had earned money for their college tuition by reciting poetry at shopping malls.  This fact definitely alleviated Bea’s anxiety about stereotypical wealthy parents who received JD/MBAs from Harvard University.


At one point, Bea felt a sudden jolt within her bowels, so she excused herself to the guest restroom.  She flipped on the fan and light, tossed some toilet paper into the bowl as a landing pad to prevent streaking, and then sat down to settle business.  “WaaaaHHHhHHHHHH!!!  EEEeeeee!” Bea mouthed as she silently squirmed in pain from the byproducts of last night’s spicy chicken dinner and its untimely decent through her anus.  After the last piece made its exit, Bea leaned back to take a moment to rest her face in her hands as she signed out relief.  Note-to-self: No more spicy chicken a day before important meetings.


DING! A text came in.


KENNY:  Everything OK in there?


BEA:  YES!  Coming out soon.  Are your parents mad?


KENNY:  No, but they think you fell in the toilet.


BEA:  :(


KENNY:  Take your time.


BEA:  Coming! Done!


Bea cleaned herself off and the little bit of poo on the hem of her dress, then turned to flush the toilet.  Oh my God.  Two more attempts at flushing the toilet only caused the water to flood closer to the brim of the bowl.  What the fucking hell?!  She stood back and gawked at the toilet in disbelief that her spicy chicken dinner had clogged the toilet.  She then snapped out of it and tried to find a plunger in every crevice of the bathroom.  Nothing. Shit.


BEA:  Can you bring me a plunger, discreeeeeeeeetly?




BEA:  >:(


Three minutes later a light knock at the bathroom door greeted Bea with a plunger.  “Can I help?  OH MAN! THE SMELL!” Kenny gagged half-jokingly.


“SHHHHHHH… Go away,” Bea whispered and then shut the door.


Bea casually returned to her seat as if it was perfectly normal to spend twenty-minute bathroom breaks during meet-the-parents dinners.


“Oh I should really keep a plunger in the bathroom.  Sorry Bea, hope everything is OK,” Mrs. Martinez sympathized as Bea glared at Kenny with utter mortification.



“So how did it go? Did my dress do the trick?” Janet asked as Bea walked into the kitchen.  Bea kicked off her pumps and walked passed Janet to open the fridge and pull out a box of leftovers.  She then placed the box onto the counter, pulled off the black dress, and then handed it to a dumbfounded Janet as she plodded off to her room with the box of spicy chicken drumsticks.



Eroticize an Object

Saturday, August 25th, 2012

That was my homework task:



My katana is twenty-four inches long.

Blade down, thrust up

It sings its single motion song.

My saya quenches its twenty-four inches thirst.

The tip, sinks down

A dance day after day rehearsed.


Brings new meaning to “camera phone.”

Thursday, July 14th, 2011

Check out the new toy!  Took a sweet picture of my dog, Pebbles, with this new camera.


I’m a little cranky when I don’t have enough sleep.

Tuesday, May 31st, 2011


Google: “dog eating poop”

Monday, May 23rd, 2011

Earlier today, my dog kept sneaking bites from his shite, which compelled me to google, “dog eating poop.”  I found this article in the event your dog has a case of eating-poop.  After reading the article, I concluded my dog has dissociative identity disorder.  He believes he is both follower and pack leader as described in this excerpt: “Submissive dogs will sometimes eat the stool of their dominant counterparts.”

I’ll observe him for the next few days.  Hopefully a few extra treats at night will help curb his appetite for crap.


Everyone has a feel-good charm.  You know, like a necklace that brings about good memories, or a favorite ice-cream or place or palette of colors that evoke happiness.  Well, I have a few charms, and with the exception of marigolds and some other things, they are surprisingly food-related.  One being sesame oil.  The first and foremost memory that comes to mind whenever I buy sesame oil is the salt-pepper-sesame oil dipping sauce for korean bbq–an unequivocal guarantee for glee.  So that’s what happened today while shopping at a Korean grocery store.

Now what is a food blog without food pictures? Photos taken with my blackberry, which is strangely white.

Chicken koobideh with brown rice at Shamshiri Grill

Chicken shawarma with brown rice at Shamshiri Grill. Dude, I love middle-eastern foods.


Toast to Manny

Tuesday, May 10th, 2011

This is how we celebrate a Pacman Fight.

Umami- Wish I focused, but here's a truffle oil burger

Here's a birds eye profile view

I made all the greens to balance out the meat--both edible and.. well, typically not. This is shiraae.

Marc will make someone very happy someday (he's single). I watched him make this pork dish from scratch. Then watched our guests lick the serving plate clean.

Marc also made pork chops. shieeeeet...

And Eoj's succulent, spicy, finger-lickin' ribs.

I tried to blend in with hokey-dokey health-nut-locals and thus bought fresh arugula from the Farmer's Market. Braved the hordes of people just to spend an ungodly amount of money on so-called organic foods. We need to learn a thing or two from the Germans about affordable organic food. I'd rather go to Whole Foods because A.)Closer B.) Cheaper (believe it or not). Except, the Farmer's Market had Chinese chives, which I was really happy about because I didn't have to drive 45 minutes to buy them. I'm trying to find a nursery that sells Chinese Chives so I can add them to the garden. I digress. Beets, fresh arugula (extremely bitter), and candied walnuts.. I made a dressing to counter-balance the bitterness of the arugula. yummmmy


Cucumber/Chinese Chives salad makes an appearance again. I was told Chinese Chives are good for women. Didn't research this, but it's definitely good for regularity. 8)

In honor of Manny, Marc boiled 5 belut eggs. Worst culinary experience of my life...belut egg, a Filipino delicacy. Nevertheless, very interesting.

BLEEHHHHH. We turned Belut-egg eating into a "I DARE YOU" game. Peer pressure in conjunction with Russian water compelled me to eat the yolk, which had the texture of rancid yolk mixed with blood.

Belut egg yolk

The next day we went to Newport Seafood to celebrate Mama's day. There's been loads of hype about this place, but it tastes quite ordinary. Maybe I don't have a sensitive palate for Chinese seafood. Here's an elephant clam dish. I'm not big on clam anything, except for the baby ones.

dou miao or pea tips. Supposedly very good for you--again, I'm not sure why, haven't googled it yet, but they're really delicious.

Clams, bleh. I can only eat the really small ones because I get grossed out when I see and feel the bellies of clams; not to mention the grains of sand that crunch between my teeth.

Peppered beef



Lasered left-eye today. Thank goodness I don’t have a third, if you don’t count the brown one.

Saturday, April 30th, 2011

Stage 1: Slice lens and make bubbles with laser for easy removal


And then they clamped my eyes open to correct my vision with a different laser (see video)

This is a video a portion of my lasik.  Then lens removal is the coolest part.

and now I have x-ray vision.


My right eye was blasted by a laser today and now i’m wearing clear goggles.. aka lasik.

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011

A bee landed on my windshield, so I took a picture of it.

Spicy shrimp pasta at Curry House in downtown los angeles- asi asi

My second iteration of ox-tail soup. I tried to make it as milky white as possible without adding milk like the restaurants do. Will try again later--think my household is a little sick of oxtail soup.

My second iteration of ox-tail soup. I tried to make it as milky white as possible without adding milk like the restaurants do. Will try again later--think my household is a little sick of oxtail soup.

I make breakfast sandwiches

My boyfriend makes a crepe w/vanilla ice-cream, whipped cream, nutella, and a fried banana. Secrets to my heart.

I washed and beheaded strawberries, super delicious.

I saw this salad at Dave's birthday party and had to recreate it. In fact, I just ate the last bit of the batch I made.

I made a bean sprout salad, but overcooked the bean sprouts. Need to try again. Still tasty though. 8)

The most soulful batch of beef stew noodles I've made yet. Added yet another secret

In celebration of my beef stew noodles, Eoj poured a bottle of wine into our decanter.

Post Russell Peters show (my fav. comedian behind Yoshi Obayashi). Got a salad, forgot the name of it, but it was delicious.

Eoj made me a flower out of...flour?

and a star. <3


Sunday, April 24th, 2011

Getty's Debut- Playback shot from a slow-motion camera

Why did I have a compelling urge to put my wallet in its mouth or wear it as a shoe?

My friend introduced us to a Chinese restaurant that was actually quite tasty and local, which never happens simultaneously where I live. You're looking at swit an sowo poh-k

Hollywood Tacos I digested for the next 2 days... ain't no El Taurino

The number 2 reason why LA is incredible. Freshly cut fruit con spice and lime juice you can find at "Mexican" fruit carts scattered in and about Los Angeles during the warm season.


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