July 31, 2012

Childhood Regrets- Mass Murder of Aquatic Life, Toxic Chemical Ingestion, and Misinterpretation of a Shampoo Ad

I did several regrettable things as a child.  However, since none of these things actually ended up killing me or had serious repercussions I think they’re probably acceptable, although I am still wondering if they are normal.  I think a lot of people wonder if they were more stupid as children than everyone else, so it’s probably safe to say we all were and it’s okay because we turned out okay for the most part. 
Exhibit A: Mass Aquatic Murder
When I was five, my brother who was 10 at the time had a massive tropical aquarium that was the envy of all that had the good fortune to be invited over to play at our house.  It was a wondrous thing- brown gravel, plastic seaweed, and driftwood made up the environment claimed by several colorful fish, snails, a crab, and a frog. 
That aquarium provided a good chunk of my five year old entertainment - it was always the place to be when I wasn’t belting Chicken Soup with Rice (a kindergarten favorite about the months of the year) or playing with my plastic doll family (of whose formerly blond heads were colored over with black Sharpie by my mother and were now “a Japanese American family”, so as to provide me with more culturally-relevant playthings).  The aquarium was exhilarating - from releasing the frog on the carpet and trying to catch it to witnessing the miracle of our crab’s shell-shedding, I loved every new experience the tank brought. 
(it was like this but better.)
So I’m not really sure why I destroyed it all.
One day at a family gathering, my cousin (also five at the time) and I were crouched in front of the tank, trying to catch an unaware fish with my brother’s net as we usually did.  But, while this was pleasant enough, we for some reason were not content.  We wanted to do something exciting, something extreme.
And so we made the fateful decision to dump an entire can of fish flakes into the water.  This, of course, immediately made the water un-breathable, effectively killing every living thing in there, fish, frogs and all.
To this day, I’m not sure what motivated us to commit that mass murder.  I think at the back of our minds we knew what was going to happen, but the satisfaction of seeing thousands of flakes fill the water like some glorious brown and orange confetti show at the time won out over our concern for aquatic welfare. To our defense, they hadn’t taught us about “priorities” yet in kindergarten.  I just remember barricading the door to my brother’s room with furniture and books to protect us from the furious storm that was sure to come from our relatives, and we hid there until I had to pee so badly that we were forced to surrender.
My brother still hasn’t forgiven me, but I hope that one day, he will be able to find solace for his loss.  And that we’ll get a dog, because that would be effing AWESOME.
Exhibit B: Eating a Glow Stick
That’s right.  A few years after the fishtank incident, I was stupid enough to EAT a GLOW STICK.
I was sitting on the floor of our pantry, hoping to find a stray Fruit-by-the-Foot, when I thought it would be a good idea to crack one of the glow sticks we had to see if it tasted good.  I guess I was reasoning that it would be kind of like a liquid Pixie stick or one of those gross liquid candy squeeze tubes.  Well, it was the shock of the century when I quickly discovered toxic chemicals actually taste like toxic chemicals and not Pixie sticks, and upon this realization tears filled my eyes and I sobbed hysterically with a fluorescent mouth in that pantry for a good half hour, sure of the inevitability of my imminent death and already in mourning for my unlived life. 
Spoiler alert: I didn’t die, but this was probably just a small form of revenge enacted by the ghosts of fishies past!
Exhibit C: FUCK YOU Loreal Kids
Who doesn’t remember this commercial for kids’ shampoo? It would annoyingly make its smug ass appearance about ten times throughout the course of my Sailor Moon episodes.

You probably know where I’m going with this- seeing the “tear free!” part of the commercial I got really excited about the potential of this wondrous super shampoo and decided to pour the bottle’s contents directly into my eyes.  Needless to say I did not end up wiping the soap from my face and smiling like a champ like the kid in the video, but experienced a remarkable amount of stinging, searing, blinding pain that was definitely more traumatizing than the glow stick was.
After reading through the comments on this youtube video, though, it seems like this happened to several thousand other kids around the world.  Now I’m coming to the conclusion that this wasn’t really my fault after all- several thousand damaged eight year old eyes weren’t a result of our stupidity, they were a result of LOREAL KIDS’ STUPID ASS AD.  What were you expecting, Loreal? For us NOT to test your dubious claim? So were the laughing children in your video really there to mock all of us, knowing perfectly well what the terrible consequences of “Tear Free” would be? Or maybe “Tear Free” had another meaning:
coolguy0291: “they said it was TEAR free because when it got in your eyes in soaked up all the moisture and stung like hell so you couldn’t cry”
Anyway I’m going off on a tangent from my original post but I don’t care because we, the thousands of victims of the 1998 misleading shampoo commercials are going to rise up and start a campaign to GET OUR DUE JUSTICE from the satanic Loreal Kids.  Those of you applying to jobs be on the lookout because I’ll be posting a field organizer position up soon.

July 28, 2012

What Do I Have to Lose?

^ This is my new favorite phrase, uttered boldly during a (usually somewhat intoxicated) excursion as rationale for doing something potentially unconventional (or crazy. you could also say crazy). I used to prefer YOLO until someone pointed out the acronym's other meaning, "You Only Liver Once", and the phrase's appeal was somewhat diminished. 

(Some unconventional things, however, I actually don't recommend doing no matter how fun it seems at the time, like chugging a water bottle filled with questionable liquor offered to you by a nice but nevertheless random ass stranger on the streets of Berkeley at 1AM on your birthday. Who did that? I don't know. Hmm.)

Anyway, the reason I wrote this post is to share with you a small but significant story from yesterday.  I was at a cafe with three friends and they somehow cleverly decided I should go up to the hottest guy there (a deep tanned, brown haired cutie with an A's jersey) and talk to him.  Because we're 15 years old.  But I said no, because I was shy and I don't go up to guys they go up to me!

I think a lot of girls have this mindset- it's socially not really normal for girls to go strike up a conversation with a cute guy; we expect the guy to approach us because "that's just how it is".  But, hey- why does it have to be that way?  We're just reinforcing our own stereotypes and hindering our own fight for gender equality.

After thinking most thoughtfully about this, the real clincher was when my friend challenged me with the following question: "What do you have to lose?"

What did I have to lose? Surely not my dignity, that was gone years ago when I got into a fist fight with a 40-something year old mother at the High School Musical concert over getting a better view of some Disney Channel stars. 

image
I was going to say this was a dark period of my life, but you know what? It was actually FUCKING AWESOME and you WISH you mastered the "We're all in This Together" dance to the extent that I did.

And if the guy wasn't into it, so what?  I wouldn't be any less guy-less than when I started out, right?

So, keeping this in mind, on our way out of the cafe I tapped the guy's shoulder (he was surround by 9 other bro-y looking ones) and when he turned around I smiled and said,
"Hey, I think you're really cute.  I just wanted to let you know!" 

He smiled slowly and said "Really?" rather more incredulously than I had anticipated. "What's your name?"

I told him and we shook hands; he held it a little bit longer than usual.  "I just wanted to pay you a compliment on my way out" I smiled and left. 

Even though I didn't stick around, I felt a sense of triumph in talking to the hottest guy at the cafe (a little bit out of my league in my opinion) and overcoming a gender norm in the process.  So to my fellow women, the next time you spot a hot guy don't just whisper to your friend about it, take control of the situation and get at that! Because, honestly,

What do you have to lose?

PS: I am SO COMPLETELY STOKED that I have 13 followers! That's a huge motherfucking deal compared to yesterday when it was just me appreciating my own posts.  I promise that I'll treat all 13 of you with reverence and I will try really hard not to let you down.

July 27, 2012

Things I Did Not Tweet

I was singing Katy Perry or something equally top 40, and this girl I know joins in.  It sounds like she’s singing a harmony (a 3rd below) so I ask her “Oh, you know how to harmonize?” and she says “What’s that?”.  And I paused, and realized she was just really tone deaf.  So I said “never mind” and felt a little bit awkward, but not awkward enough to stop singing. 
I wish I knew how people stay with their first boyfriend forever.  How do you know if you don’t know anything else? How do you know what you don’t like and what your dealbreakers are?
High school coursework was more challenging than college material, and college was more demanding than my current full-time job. Does this mean my intellectual capacity peaked at the ripe age of seventeen? It’s all downhill from here?
I always stare at a girl’s outfit if I like it a lot, and I really want to say something to her but I feel like I can’t compliment it unless I am looking fashionable that day, or else it would be taken as more of an insult.
I hope I can still have sleepovers when I’m a grown up.
Does anyone else feel like they have recently developed ADD because we have so many distractions n- hang on I got to check that (1) notification.
Last Sunday, I ate a weed lollipop, read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for the 13th time, and started a new blog called “Gets High, Reads Harry Potter then Blogs About It”.  It was probably the best night ever. I’m probably not going to get as famous from the blog as I thought I was going to, but I will release it if anyone would want to read it. 
Actually fuck growing up, I never want to grow up.  That’s why I still party like I’m a freshman in college.
I would probably be content reading harry potter, drinking, and singing karaoke forever.
Who am I really? I feel like the answer is changing every day.