journal
01.04.03 the lonliest number
is three.
i'm in bed on a saturday night, taking small curious bites out of assorted chocolates then putting them back in the box. muhaha. and also studying my new book nigella bites. v.good. i am moved to cook something tomorrow. the cookbook by nigella lawson is based on her tv show which is aired, ironically, on the style network. skinny models, skinny models, skinny, skinny, never ate food in all our lives, then lush nigella is on with big golden blocks of butter for smothering at the ready. i like her more than martha stewart. she's not so anticeptic. not so... evil.
one is kind of lonely too.
01.05.03 i am clam. clam i am.
hello there.
my mother and i went to fort lee today to get our haircuts. it's such a waste of money to pay thirty bucks for a trim but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. the lady who cut my hair had too many appointments lined up, so right after the cut she handed the blow drying and styling over to the girl who usually answers the phone. this girl took out a round bristle brush, turned on the dryer on maximum heat, and proceeded to shape my hair into a helmet-like bob. instead of saying, "i prefer air dry", i sat there and let her go all the way. why? why? i am not brave enough. i am too little.
01.05.03
i'm tired. and sick. and not looking so good. it's amazing what a little bit of under eye concealer can do.
so there is to be a sequel to the date i went on several weeks ago with the older guy who shares a room with his sister. is it shallow that i just can't seem to get over that bit? we're going to eat dinner and catch a movie. joe is encouraging me to make some moves, offering me tips on the subtle art of seduction. "wear a very low cut shirt and show cleavage." i wore a turtle neck sweater. it's going to be really cold tonight and i'm already sick. the jeans are a bit tight though, so he can get a good view of my small, flat, (but by no means matronly) ass.
the boss is on a business trip until the 20th and i am pleased as pie about it. i've got my shoes off, legs perched on my computer, sipping a smoothie and surfing around on the prince edward island homepage. i'm going there in the spring to see green gables. i bet there's a little town there for tourists to simulate what downtown avonlea might have looked like back in l.m. montgomery's time. i totally dig that stuff. the ladies dressed up in clothing of the era, making candles or baking bread in a brick fire oven... maybe taking a $25 ride around town in a horse drawn buggy. haha. wanna come with?
01.11.03
okay, so last night was okay. okay the way the first date was okay. ate food. drank coffee at a small place in chelsea where all the tables were taken up by pairs of men and i felt unhip and out of place for not being gay and man. then we watched adaptation which was really good.
he walked me to the train station and waited with me. we talked. about jersians and how they love to come into the city to watch musicals like the lion king. i showed him some pictures that i keep in my planner. he said i look like my mom. i do. he showed some sticker pictures on his driver's permit because, you know, he doesn't have a driver's license. there was a sticker picture of him and his sister. his sister and her friends. his sister, her friends and his exgirlfriend. him and his exgirlfriend. i carefully scrutinized her in the picture and made sure she didn't by any freak chance *look* like me because he could be a weird freaky freak who is still pining for his ex and going out on dates with women who look like her. she didn't look like me though and i am obviously the freaky freak who would seriously consider such possibilities.
then things got physical. he read my palm and said that i had a long "smart" line. i said "well, that's good. make a fist." i pushed in the side of his palm and two little white bumps appeared on his wrist. "okay you're going to have two kids." all this involved touching of the hands but it wasn't very thrilling. we were just killing time.
then, in manner of deus ex machina, dr.e and dr.j appeared out of no where. they had been to watch tim rice's aida and were on their way home to jersey as well. i got all excited and chatty and roses returned to my cheeks. soon our track was announced and i waved a speedy byebye. that was it. but for some reason, i feel bad. he's a really nice guy. he fed me twice. he thinks i'm kind of loopy but again, he shares a room with the sister and has only a driver's permit.
should there be one more date? should i buy him food and thank him for being so nice and extend "friendship"? or is all that really unnecessary? do we just stop talking now? how does it work? i don't get this dating thing. i just talk the talk. sometimes i feel like i'm sexually frustrated. other times, i sit next to my mom on the couch and play with her toes and feel perfectly happy. at the moment, i'm 24 going on 11 and boys. are. gross.
01.13.03join the club
do you know that i have a
fan? does this mean that i get to wear a tiara?
there's something stuck between my two front teeth. i reckon it's turkey because that's what i ate for lunch. though it *could* be a small fragment of pecan from the ice cream. it's irritating me! this might require a trip down to the duane reade for some tooth floss. remember that scene in when harry met sally when sally's like, "well at least your date didn't reach over, pull out a hair from your head and start flossing with it!" i wonder if that would work. i know, it's too gross. i'll just go get the floss then.
01.14.03
it is COLD this fine day on the island of manhattan. i had to wear tights under my pants which is something i do not enjoy doing on so many levels.
1) any sort of spandexy fabric that *encases* you like a sausage is not comfortable
2)tights are not silky so the fabric of your pants will cling to the legs and make you look frumpy and unkept
3) most tights feature the "control top", a built in tummy-holding-in-panty that results in unwanted butt flattening. still, i guess i'd rather be warm.
01.16.03
my grandparents were over when i got home yesterday from work. my grandmother's hair is looking more and more like beethoven's. soft, unfurling grey waves of musical-genius hair. she tells me, as she does each time she sees me, of her fear that a madman will push me off the platform while i'm waiting for the train. "it happens *all* the time. stand as far away from the edge as possible." so i laugh and say, "okay." she laughs a little too because she knows i think she is a paranoid old lady, but she says it again with more seriousness. and then, one more time.
my grandfather is concerned about other matters. he thinks i ought to get a perm because his idea of what a woman might want to do to make herself look prettier and more mature, is by ways of a perm. he says i am too little and childish looking. how am i to find a husband? certainly a perm would rectify the situation.
they are very cute though. my grandmother's knees are in bad shape and she needs help getting around, so they're always walking with linked arms. that is the most affection that i have seen pass, between a married couple in my family. or between anyone in my family for that matter. poeksy, you think i'm black and dead? you should meet sarah k. there's no saving *her*.
01.17.03welcome to collingwood, san francisco: the house of ho
my friend poeks lives in the house of ho. as the name suggests, it is a house full of hos. (note: according to me, a ho is a person who has a lot of sex with a lot of people and actually enjoys it). ho-activities take place daily, in any room, at any time, give or take a few hos. through the thin walls one can hear ho-sounds, so if you ever plan to visit the house of ho, it might be a good idea to bring a discman. i'd say the "madame" of this establishment is poeksy's roomate lucy. i met madame lucy last august in san fran. he is a very nice person and one would never suspect that he is a raging ho by just looking at him.
the question is, would those who enter the house of ho eventually adapt and become a ho as well? if sassy cho, dr.e, and lin entered the house of ho at the same time, who would be the first to turn ho?
how about a poem.
You fit into me
Like a hook into an eye
A fish hook
An open eye
-Margaret Atwood-
01.18.03
i'm not sure that even close friends know this about me but... i talk to my self alot. at least 3 times a week. it's not really talking to *myself* though. i don't indulge in corny pep-talk (i.e. "you rock lin."). no, they're just imaginary conversations where i'll put myself in a certain situation. it can be a confrontation of sorts where the tension is real thick. someone has totally wronged me and i am angry inside, but manage to remain cool and collected. my face takes on a blank and unaffected expression as i sternly say, "i think you'd better leave now." if i'm pretending to be extremely angry at this person it could be, "you're dead to me."
sometimes i'll just repeat conversations that i have retained from movies like love story or bridget jones diary. the perfect time to have such talks is while i am driving. i used to get a little paranoid of being seen by other drivers but that doesn't bother me now. i could very well be talking on a cell phone with an ear piece.
01.19.03
am very vexed. i spent half the day looking for something. in the process i made a huge mess in my room. the other half of the day was therefore spent cleaning aforementioned mess. you know how most people have a box of crap? well i have like five of them. in any case, i still haven't found it. where could you be???
agent bristow vs. hot-shark
as you may or may not have heard, ALIAS is the best show on non-cable tv. it is *way* better than buffy and smallville *combined*. if you read this post before sunday 9pm eastern time, i highly recommend that you turn on the tube and join me for yet another kick-ass episode. also, if you think sarah michelle gellar is hot, then please explain. i can't seem to see past her cartilaginous nose.
01.20.03
what a nice morning. it wasn't below zero, the streets were less crowded due to the holiday, and i had abba blasting from my headphones. it took every fiber to restrain myself from singing along to "waterloo". oh, i wanted to sing along so badly! how could we live without abba songs? i know i couldn't.
minhee park.
that is my youngest cousin. he is a cutie petutie. i hope my kids are going to be cute too.
01.21.03tapioca redemption
jane and i both agree that today is an annoying day. people are seriously grating on my nerves. a boba tea can make things better. so very desperately craving a taro boba tea. but chinatown is far! and it is too cold to walk around. a boyfriend right now would be ever so helpful. "hey it's *me*. pick up boba tea. meet me in the lobby. 5:15."
a kind, smart, good looking boyfriend would say, "you got it!"
a mean, lazy, ugly boyfriend would say, "how about a soda?"
ask the doctor
dr.e said if you're ever in a situation where the person you're seeing is about to say "i love you" and you really don't want it to be said, a good way to divert his attention would be to maybe force out a fart. muhaha. that's so gross. but it would probably buy some time.
*note: farting can only be helpful in thwarting delcarations of love. it can't be used, for example, to hold off project deadlines.
01.23.03
it was 9 degrees this morning. i couldn't tell that it was much colder than yesterday though. i mean, once it dips below 20, the coldness feels pretty much the same. being cold isn't so bad. i find heat and humidity much more objectionable.
01.24.03
i am so hungry.
so there's this really pompous guy at work and he has a big, hard belly. i feel that pompous and big, hard belly go hand in hand, don't you? anyway, so this guy walks around the office like he's the "head honcho" (when he's just started a couple of months ago), talks the talk, makes lots of expenses (i mean spend-400-on-dinner-at-bouley type of expenses), and sometimes waves to me in passing. waves with his fingers. he raises his hand only half way, horizontally, and then wiggles his fingers around as though to say "too-dooloo!" too odious for words!
brighter thoughts. oh i've already begun planning for our summer trip to prince edward island. i am trying not to get too excited about it in case i can't go. but once i get there i'm sure it will be truly wonderful. they call the area where l.m.montgomery used to live, "anne's land". isn't that romantic? (as anne herself would say). there are really quaint cottages for rental and the inns are also nice. dr.e said the rooms at the inns look "grandma" and that no one would believe young girls in their twenties are going to prince edward island instead of cancun or some other typical thong-alcohol-sex filled place. but i know that deep down she's pining to go as much as i am. dr.e is afterall a kindred spirit. emi (who is really the japanese version of diana barry, dimples and all), is rather dubious about the trip because she thinks there will be nothing to do but gaze at cows and watch me get hyper at the sight of green gables. well, there is still time to convince her otherwise. perhaps i may tempt her with prospects of "violet vale" and "the lake of shining waters" and "marilla's plum pudding".
i know. there are still times when close friends, friends i have known for years and years will look at me with furrowed brows and ask, "why are you so weird?" i can't help it. i get obsessed with things.
01.25.03
jane and i were eating our usual lunch at the deli the other day, gravely discussing how *old* we are and how we're beginning to feel our age. but i, being of the happy-dappy-optimistic breed said, "oh but jane, we're not so old! i think i'd really start to feel old, and i mean *really* feel it, when i turn twenty-four. i'm not there yet."
jane stared at me for a while. "you are twenty-four..."
blank staring and blinking ensued for a quiet five seconds. "no, i just turned twenty-three. wait. WAIT! okay i'm twenty-three."
"do the math. this is the year 2003. 2003 minus 1978 is 25. so you'll be turning 25 this year. we're the same age, remember?"
the mathematical proof of my real age hit me like a ton of bricks. how could i have forgotten something like that? i must have known on my birthday three months ago that i was turning twenty four. in any case, it felt like i had aged one year during that brief moment of *truth*. in conclusion, i am indeed a twenty-four year old, apparently delusional and bad at math.
announcement
i have appointed j.s. to be the president of my site's fan club. he is now the founder, president, and the only member of this club.
01.26.03
i'm not a big fan of leonardo dicaprio. not since titanic anyway. i just hate that movie with all my heart. but in catch me if you can he plays a vulnerable young boy and it reminded me of his gilbert grape days. he was kinda cute then.
01.27.03the day emi was born
on this very day twenty four years ago, yoko gave birth to a freakishly hairy girl-child and named her emi. emi was the most cutest baby in the world (after the shoulder hair shed off). no baby could ever be as cute as baby emi was.
i was over at her house tonight for the traditional strawberry shortcake that yoko makes for her children's birthdays. a large white cake with "2" and "4" shaped candles, lit and perched on top, was carried out to the living room where we were seated and gently placed in front of us.
"ha-ppy basu-day!" said yoko. all of a sudden, emi started laughing and pointing at the cake. there in the center of the lovely white confection, encircled by a happy ring of strawberries and piping, were the neatly squeezed dec-a-cake gel letters that read, "EMI HAPPY BATHDAY". to yoko "birth" is pronounced "basu" and "basu" is spelled "bath".
when we told her, she started heading toward the kitchen for a small spatula knife and more red lettering gel, shouting, "i can fix it!" we didn't let her. it was delicious of couse and i ate an unforgivable amount of fresh whipped cream and eggy cake at half past nine. oh oh oh. why must fat taste so good? fat is like the perfect paradox. on the one hand, it tastes so good. and yet... it is so BAD!
so the fanclub has some new officers. poeks is to be the v.p. and dr.e is of course the md on call here at linisnice. thank you officers for all your hard work. we will have our first real meeting in june on prince edward island.
01.28.03
my site has not been itself lately. increase in g.b. entries, appearing and disappearing of journal blurbs, not to mention the addition of a fan club. it's all very well- poeks always said i was on my way to cult sensation. muhaha (maohaha in chinese). i'd like to announce that linisnice will soon be moving to a new address and going under major construction. there will be more pictures and features (like site restriction so as i can write as freely and meanly as i want). ain't that grand?
01.29.03dining out
dr.e and i went to rene pujol for dinner tonight to taste their restaurant week menu. this is what i had: very good glass of white wine, house salad, seared cod with buerre blanc, and chocolate mousse. dr.e had the same but with beef medallions in green peppercorn sauce for main course. the cod was overcooked and chewy and the mousse kinda reminded me of the frosting from a sarah lee layer cake. it also came with this sesame seed pizelle that tasted extremely unpleasant when paired with the mousse. sometimes weird things taste good together but not chocolate and sesame seeds. rene pujol's restaurant week fare ranks two stars out of four on the linisnice eats rank. and don't be fooled by the $30.03. with wine tip and tax, dinner for two is between $95-$100. the food was a bit disappointing, but it was certainly in good company, and was overall a fun night out.
dinner conversation revolved around questions that started with, "what if..."
dr.e: what if you called the waiter over and said 'excuse me, this dish tastes ... fishy. i believe i ordered cod, and yet here you've given me fish.'
lin: (pointing to the sides with knife) 'the potato, good. carrot, good. the bok choi, also very good. but the cod- very fishy."
why is that funny? i don't really know but we laughed for the longest and hardest, and therefore the best.
01.30.03an apple for miss.jun
jaz was gloomy when i went over to tutor today. i had even brought her a packet of gummy bears to celebrate the 85 she scored on her social studies exam- a real leap from her previous grade. but the otherwise peppy 9yr old was v. quiet until finally, half an hour into math she said,
"i was supposed to have a sleepover but no one wanted to come."
"oh?"
"i invited all the girls but every single one said she didn't want to come."
"hey... you know, sleepovers are actually pretty boring. it's more fun to do... other things." as you can see, i have a way with the children.
"but i never had a sleepover before. i've never been to one ever."
"oh well, they're not fun. okay so seven times nine is not seventy-nine."
"do you know who the biggest loser in our entire grade is? it's mary carrigan. and do you know who the second biggest loser is? it's me." she pointed at herself with her thumb.
"and who told you that?"
"all the popular girls."
"tell them to eat shit."
except i didn't actually say that. i said something hokey like, "don't let it get to you too much. you are certainly NOT a loser and those girls were just being mean and stupid. they have no reason to call you names."
piaget would be proud.
the thing is, i know jaz has no friends. her family is unattentive. and her teacher is a total floozy. the woman sends me emails that start with, "linda, how is life in the big city. go watch the musical movin out. it is all of billy joel's music and 2 hours of song and dance. very good. jasmine did her homework for today."
but what can i do? i am no "captain my captain". no "to sir, with love". still, i felt compassion for her bruised little 9yr old spirit and promised a field trip to the museum next saturday. poeks says going to the museum is a form of punishment for any child but jaz specifically said she wanted to go- she had never been. besides, i LOVED the museum when i was little and it will be fun. if you want to come with, i'll send you a permission slip.
on an entirely unrelated note, the most comfortable bras are the homeliest ones. not sexy. and the best fitting panties are the matronly, full-seat coverage ones. again, not sexy. for me, sexiness and comfort can never coexist.
01.31.03
tomorrow is feb. so soon! anyway, i'm having a massively crummy day so far. everything is irritating me and i have really bad uteral pains. i know i'm not the only girl who gets cramps but honestly, i feel like if there was a pain measuring scale where 0 is no pain and 10 feels like child birthing, my cramps would score a 9.
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