FML might be a bit dramatic, but the facepalm is real.
The moment you realize that your last relationship could be summed up by the 1993 hit:
Those Swedes are wise. Aha moment brought to you (me) by the umpteenth viewing of Pitch Perfect. The truth shall set you free!
My mom texted for some advice during her preparation for her routine endoscopic procedure. My mom is the best kind of patient—she follows instructions to the letter, even when her personal medical counsel (a.k.a. me) advises otherwise. She had texted to ask if she could skip some of her cathartics because they had, well, been too cathartic. I told her it was okay to stop but she decided to only take half my advice and still take half of the prescribed medication for the next day. If I had a dollar for every time I have had to say to my mother, “Trust me. I’m a doctor” I would have as many dollar bills as a stripper during Spring Break. This is her follow-up text the next morning:
Finally! My turn to say…I told you so!!!
Love you Mom!
P.S. She got an A+ on her colonoscopy. #goodforanothertenyears
I love how the Stats page on WordPress gives you interesting data that I frankly don’t know what to do with. Today it told me I had visitors from Japan and India. That’s pretty cool. It also told me that some people found my site through Facebook, which is a little concerning since this blog is quasi-anonymous and I don’t use Facebook. And finally, it told me that one of the search terms that led some poor soul to my site was, “dirty bitmojis.” Umm…
Don’t forget to capitalize the “B.”
It’s my day off but I’m getting ready to go to a mandatory work thingie. These are half-day affairs, usually consisting of continuing education and financial updates, practice improvement announcements and a sprinkle of propaganda. This one is being held at a fancy hotel downtown. I briefly glanced at the agenda last night. An excerpt:
| 9:00 – 9:05 am | WELCOME & ANNOUNCEMENTS | Dr. *. **** |
| 9:05 – 9:15 am | ANAL HEALTH | Dr. *. ******** |
I am assuming we are allowed to go business casual today. My sartorial response:
Blazer by Helmut Lang. T-shirt by Nordstrom Rack.
I knew this shirt would come in handy someday.
*For the concerned, I do have two hands. This is just an intentional optical illusion. Yeah, that’s it.
Over the weekend, I was at my favorite sausage and gin joint and got involved in an animated discussion with my bartender friend (a lady) and Guy at the Bar. We were discussing who should pay on a first date. All three of us agreed that the dude should pay. Lady bartender and I agreed that the woman should always do the reach and/or offer but that a gentleman should not concede. I mean, I will back up my offer if allowed to do so, but chances are, unless you are my unicorn, we will probably not have a second date. It’s not about the money, it’s about the gesture and, in my experience, a pattern of behavior to come. With the caveat: if the girl is being rude and/or the date is a total disaster, both parties have the right to say “let’s split this?” I have offered to split the tab when I do not want to see someone again. But the honest truth is that ladies (in general; I wear pretty much the same makeup no matter where I am going because it’s the only kind I know how to do) spend 10x the cost of a coffee or drink getting gussied up for a date. Not to mention that putting on makeup is kind of a pain:
*As an aside: Guy at the Bar insisted on buying me a cocktail (it was 2pm on a Sunday but what the hell) and then asked me out. He was physically attractive, but there will be no date because he was way too young; I draw the line at 32 35 these days. God forbid I be labeled a cougar (or as my friend I says, “puma,” a slightly younger cougar). Plus, he pulled a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde, to the point where I thought he most likely was on something; not that one has to be high on drugs to ask me out. At least I hope not. But because after my friend F arrived to join us, he clammed up and actually moved down to the very end of the bar. F joked that she was man repellent but I’m 95% sure his cocaine/speed just wore off. Unfortunately, when I am put on the spot, I don’t know how to not give out my number. I didn’t learn from onlybadchi’s experience…
Dreamy and a do-gooder! Image courtesy of Prizeo.com
Ansel Elgort recently celebrated his twenty-first birthday (at least it’s legal to have a crush on him. Appropriate? That’s another topic entirely.) and in lieu of gifts, he decided to start a Prizeo campaign. Prizeo is like Kickstarter for celebrities with a cause; donate and you can win certain prizes like autographed photos, t-shirts, and “once-in-a-lifetime experiences.” In our modern, celebrity-obsessed society, this is a great use of social media, providing an easy platform for celebrities to pimp themselves out for a charity (and I mean that with the utmost respect. For once, no sarcasm-really!) Ansel has chosen the Thirst Project, which works to build freshwater wells in communities without access to clean drinking water.
So of course, I totally donated. Because Oriental Lady strongly believes that everyone worldwide should be able to enjoy a cup of hot, clean water. And the shot at winning lunch with Ansel is okay too, I guess.
I donated at the “Dauntless” level, which earns me a t-shirt, ten entries into the “Lunch with Ansel” drawing and an email from Ansel. Check it out here if you’d like to donate too! If you are donating purely to provide others with clean drinking water and don’t want to eat lunch with an adorable, talented young man who thinks about things other than himself, please feel free to donate your contest entries to me (or pretty much any preteen/teenage girl). Now that he’s twenty-one, I’d love to buy him a drink. ;)
You know you are getting old and/or becoming a curmudgeon when you finally hear yourself utter the phrase, “kids these days…” I don’t get selfies. Part of it is pure vanity; my arm is not nearly long enough to take a picture of myself that would be attractive. Fear of double chin and turkey neck stops me from even considering it. Secondly, if you are on vacation, instead of a pretty vista or landmark in the background, you have a picture of…your face. What, you say? Use a selfie stick? The person who thought of this invention is opportunistic pretty smart but should also be spanked. Every time another museum bans selfie sticks (you go, Versailles and Smithsonian!), the little misanthrope in me does a dance.
Recently, though, I did come across a form of selfie I could get behind: Danish Artist Olivia Muus has created the Museum of Selfies. This is an occasion when a picture is definitely worth a thousand words:
Image courtesy of Museum of Selfies Tumblr page
It’s art imitating life imitating art. So meta. And genius!
I follow UberFacts on Twitter because, sometimes, I just want to enrich my knowledge of completely random but often hilarious subjects. This is what I got when I shared one of these facts with my mother:
Well, I am the one who brought it up. Lesson learned. Do not speak of things you know not do not ever want to know.
*I did not know how to make an “e” with an accent OR an umlaut for the “u”. Please feel free to educate me if you do!
Last week, I waxed poetic about the Bitmoji app that I had heard about on the “Today” show. It literally makes me laugh out loud at least once a day. I have been trying to convince my friends to make their Bitmojis. Several of them have humored me and no one has regretted it (well, ok, they regret it in the sense that they are also becoming obsessed with it):
I need two more for…Bitmoji Hollywood Squares!
This is has been no easy feat. Except for the gentleman in the leotard, my friends and I are technological dinosaurs. We did not have smartphones when we were in high school. Or college. Or graduate school. (Ok, I’ll stop now!) After I kept bugging her, one of my friends above recruited her twelve year-old daughter to make hers. Thanks for indulging me, guys!
Yes, this is a thinly veiled attempt to guilt more friends into joining the tribe. You know who you are.
These will be a collector’s item any day now. Note the original packaging.
For some, spring is heralded by the arrival of warmer weather, daffodils and birds chirping. For me, it is the appearance of marshmallow bunnies and chicks covered in colored sanding sugar. I love toasted marshmallows, s’mores, marshmallow fluff, marshmallow sauce, chocolate covered, floating in hot cocoa, etc. but I don’t like plain marshmallows. I find the coating of flour/cornstarch/whatever they use to keep them from sticking to each other to be a little off-putting. Behold, the genius of Peeps: coat puffy clouds of sugar with…more sugar!!!
Behold, a wand of marshmallow magic.
I’m not sure how it started, but I have an annual tradition of gifting my friend N the coolest new Peeps item I can find. Some past finds: Peeps plushies, a giant hollow chocolate egg with Peeps inside, Peeps shaped cookie cutters (if you are reading this, N, that was a not-so subtle hint for you to bake cookies and bring them to work). I honestly look forward to seeing what the peeps at Peeps come up with and surprising N. Of course, I usually have to buy myself one of whatever I get her. Except for the cookie cutters. Why do I need them if she if going to bake me cookies?
Great with coffee.
I have a threadbare t-shirt in my closet I refuse to throw out: it says “Give Peeps a Chance” and has a cartoon of a Peeps chick with an olive branch in its mouth. If you know where I can get a new one (this one has now shrunk from normal to baby tee to not-suitable-for-public-wear), let me know. But if you think I love my Peeps, check out these folk who love to get their Peeps diorama on!
you look like a nice oriental lady 