“I once got into trouble when I had lunch with a female friend,” he said. “The wife wasn’t too happy.”
I was caught off guard. Lose all my male friends when if I ever settle? Even as platonic as they are. Or even if I think they’re so idiotic that sometimes I wouldn’t let them hug me?
“The boyfriend said that you couldn’t just have guy friends stay over,” a friend said recently. “It’s something that I was supposed to know—things that you’re not supposed to do in a long distance relationship.”
In some way, I don’t understand the concept of how people can disappear once they’re in a relationship. How do they deal with the lack of space? How do they fulfill all aspects of their life since one person cannot adequately do it all? How do they become jealous of the unknown? Or is it because it’s unpredictable? Should they get mad at the significant other or the unknown person…who caused the damage?
Or is it the sex part?
Do you think you know me? Or do you really know me?
I admit that I am not a naturally surprising person. I have never died and then came back life. Nor have I gone to the moon and back. Furthermore, the countries besides the United States are still on my to-do list.
Some answers can be found on this blog. Others can be found from my personality. And even more so, some you may have to just guess.
I am now officially Yelp Elite!
Now to figure out what that really means…
Today, I said to Joe, “My phone battery never dies. Unlike some people…”
I was alluding to the fact that I always kept my phone charged and diligently used the phone so that I never got the “battery dead” message.
As I said that, I wanted to say “knock on wood”, but thought I was getting superstitious in my pretentious moment. How could I jinx my phone?
Well apparently I did.
I was talking to my sister on the phone walking along Valencia. I hung up as I crossed the side street and dropped my phone in the process. The back of the phone and the battery popped out. I thought cheap phones just can’t stick together and promptly put the phone together, expecting that it will work.
Unfortunately it did not.
Everything was fine. Except the screen. It lit up, but nothing displayed. Just a white empty screen. I figured out that I could call people by using my speed dial, but nothing more.
I thanked my luck stars that I was incredibly anal about copying my phone numbers to my digital address book.
So now, I will carry a screenless phone…like before the days of caller id. Feel free to call me, because I won’t know it’s you. In fact, telemarketers can also call me, because I won’t know it’s you.
“Hello?” I’ll answer instead of the cherry “Hi [insert name here]”.
“He’s dead,” a friend imed me.
Then a few minutes later, another friend imed me “Did you know that Heath Ledger died?” and provided a link to a news article.
In my email, I got an email with only the subject sad and a link to the news on Defamer.
And then another im with the same news.
Chris at first thought it was a piece of viral marketing for the Dark Knight.
He was great in Brokeback Mountain and should have received the Oscar.
“Excuse me, if you don’t mind me asking, are you going to use your transfer later tonight?” the guy with tight jeans asked as he held onto the pole on the 14. He looked at us innocently.
I stared at him with growing reluctance, but we gave him the transfer anyway. Then I whispered, “why does he need a transfer if he got on the bus.”
“Maybe it’s for a friend at the next stop.”
But the thing was…it was a simple innocous question from someone who almost seemed trustworthy.
I remember a time I was walking to the grocery store. A pair of girls stopped us and asked us for change for the pay phone. They said they needed to make a call. Without thinking, I just gave them the change and saw them walk right past the pay phone.
Am I pansy? Can I not see through deception? Do I have trouble seeing past face value?
How do we say no to something we almost find fundamentally wrong? We were going to toss the transfer into the trash the moment we got off the bus. We weren’t going to use it. But it was so easy. A fellow person asks you for a simple favor. The time. Pick up that piece of paper for me. And suddenly, you can’t help but say yes.
I am a pansy as would the author of Influence say.
And about two days later as we were standing on Market waiting for the F line, a guy with a scruffy beard showed us the transfers he had and said, “Want one?”
We looked at him in confusion as he pushed one into our hands. “It’s a dollar,” he added.
And sometimes I thought the day would never arrive.
The movie will have your head spinning. Figuratively and literally.
But I would label my tapes with an address so that my tapes wouldn’t be classified under the US Government.
It was a War of the Worlds, Godzilla, The Blair Witch Project, The Host, Felicity…all in one, but better.
As we walked along the Embarcadero, we suddenly heard a loud noise.
Something falling and crashing, I thought.
But then it happened again.
Echoing against the tall buildings of downtown San Francisco. I was frightened and looked at my friend as we walked. Everything kept going normally—the cars kept driving, the street cars kept moving. The lights seem to shudder, but everything was as if nothing had happened.
And it happened a few more times. Echoing loudly against the buildings as if a bomb was landing.
But as we turned around the corner of the Ferry Building, we spotted people looking out into the Bay.
There it was.
Fireworks exploding upwards from a ship. A cruise ship? Of bright colors and light, thundering against the buildings of downtown San Francisco.
I felt old as my discomfort grew, disliking the noise as it echoed. With my friend, we ran into the restaurant we were heading toward…and stayed inside even when the restaurant staff ran outside in glee to watch an old-fashioned unexpected fireworks display.
You see, my baby powerbook was everything I wanted. Lightweight. Thin and small. Eye-dazzling. Sexy. And the this powerbook is with me and not you bragging rights. Unfortunately years passed (almost 4) and my baby powerbook is becoming slower and slower. And gaining all this unnecessary bangs and marks.
The baby powerbook is still chugging.
But I laid eyes on you. Thin. Dazzling. Light. So many fans. And you were going to be mine for a tiny price of $1799.
Then I realized you had no disc drive and you stole drives from others.
That’s like borrowing toilet paper from your next door neighbor every single time, because you couldn’t afford to get your own.