“I have no idea what Chris’ last name is,” he said over im when trying to set up a man date.

I felt almost insulted. More appalled.

This friend and Chris have met up with each other intermittently over the past few years, especially when I am around. But could there be an excuse?

1. They met at least three years ago. However, any contact that they have had has been through me.

2. We stayed at the friend’s place in the summer of 2008. I didn’t mention his last name.

3. I post photos on facebook tagging Chris. But perhaps the friend never noticed the tag.

4. I send email blasts to many many many friends often cc’ing Chris. But perhaps he never looks at the recepients…even when Chris rarely if ever replies.

And so forth. Well it probably could be possible. Now!

I thought about all the dealbreakers I normally would have for the significant other.
The insistence for paying for cabs. The driving of a two seater. The inability to fix my computer. And more.

But then I thought about it more. Are they even real? Could I deal with it if I compromised…and let my stubborn requirements go?

Probably.

But here’s real dealbreakers:

That’s really it. Because everything else can be adjusted to what will work well for the both of us.

I am in my late twenties…living in the city…still unmarried. And sure I have felt the pressure here and there, particularly from people who don’t live in the city. But other than that, it’s the norm. It’s ok to be female and single. My entire social circle…nearly unmarried even though many are in long-term relationships. It’s ok.

There is one friend who laments the sorrow of not being in a relationship. She and I went to see a chick flick once—not of my choosing, but because I just wanted to hang out. It was…almost offensive to me. To submit to the wills of someone else—especially a male one? Insulting! The thought of that rippled through the angry asian girl inside me.

Every so often, I talk with friends about our intents of relationships. Our expectations. There’s always a story that I tell back in September 2006. The first weekend, a male friend took me out to a nice fancy place for dinner. He insisted on paying. The following week, another male friend “tricked” me into dinner and when the bill came, he dropped his credit card without even inspecting. Then the third week…you see…Chris and I went to a local sushi restaurant and when the bill came, we looked at it and split it evenly. Two credit cards on there. You could say that I was enraptured.

So when I came across a so-called Korean “Sex and the City” on Hulu, I was intrigued. Named The Woman Who Still Wants to Marry…yeah! I sat down and watched the first episode since other trashy shows weren’t as appealing on Hulu. For awhile now, I had been wondering what this fervor over Korean romances and dramas was all about.

BUT it was nothing like I had imagined. My female Korean friend from graduate school…had insinuated that relationships are about where the girl just waits patiently until the guy comes around. But to me, that wasn’t it. I hate being passive aggressive even though I know that I can be. What surprised me was that…it was expected that in Korea that women marry early! And that it was almost a shame to the family when a girl was still unmarried in her early 30s. What happened to career stuff?

I am glad that I live in the states.

Did you know that a flower can be stabby? I didn’t know either. Neither did Toad.

I just discovered this photo now taken originally in a few weeks ago on my macbook pro (purchased just over a year ago)!

A friend over the weekend after hearing about my many urban adventures (scavenger hunts to food truck hunting to sf food wars) suggested that I start a food blog. It has been occurring to me for the past year and yet…where do I put my whimsical stuff. Where do I put my posts about nothing? (Like this one!)

And yet, I do miss the days in college where I had amassed the perfect reader following—people that I did not know IRL, people that followed me for the purposes of just reading. Nowadays, it’s all about niche…I miss the usual readers that I used to have, but I love just writing. Even if there’s not many people reading anymore.

Anyway, this photo is awesome!

This is the second photo of the S90! Because I am pretty sure that I shouldn’t show the first one!

I resist a lot of the conveniences that my social circle often takes.

1. Taxis
2. Smart phones
3. Owning real furniture
4. Cable TV
5. Magazine subscriptions
6. Dry cleaning and/or wash and fold service
7. Cleaning services

Now I don’t know if it’s because of my Asian upbringing, but everything can be a waste of money. And yet am I hypocritical?

But wait let’s back to number 7.

One of the first few potential roommates I interviewed said that he liked having a cleaning service come regularly—every week. He had been perfect up until that moment. I reacted almost too quickly, “Oh I am not sure about that…”

Later, he said that he was going to get his car to try out the garage. I was excited to have the roommate search to be over. I waited 10 minutes, 15 minutes, 30 minutes…then he called to say that he changed his mind and was going to take another place.

So when another potential roommate visited, I held back my tongue and just nodded. But she surprised me by saying that she would pay for it…that she didn’t mind.

Today, I came home to a sparkling oven and range. Squeaky floors. Emptied out trash. It was welcome…and yet strange. Almost uncomfortable. But it was clean. Even though I hated how my previous roommate did non-adequate job of not cleaning, I had done it all. I emptied the trash, scrubbed the bathtub, swept the floor, wiped down the counters, mopped the hardwood floors. But never a completely perfect job. This…today’s cleaning was complete.

It troubled me for some reason. I had explicitly stated earlier that my room was not to be cleaned, so it was the only room in the entire apartment that was untouched—my bed unmade, my wrappers here and there…my desk still the way I left it…it contrasted, but it was mine. All mine. My control.

There was an article I read recently about a study that showed that people who did moderate housework regularly were healthier than those who did not.

I don’t want to be that person who relies on a cleaning service to have a happy home. I want to be satisfied.

Then it comes to this question: why do we have to measure our happiness by the level of cleanliness?

Remember this?

The spoils from a cookie exchange? I got the cookies back in December (of course). But then it sat in my room and Chris’ place for months until one day…

I thought…what can I do with it!

So I put it in a blender…

Then I pressed PULSE.

Which resulted in cookie dust!

Lots of cookie dust!

Making into…a pie shell full of bananas!

Covered with custard…

Into a slice of a banana cream pie!

Ok, the final presentation could have been better, but what with a shaky excited hand could I do?!

It was tasty.