Justin Bieber

So Austin and I have been married for almost 10 months now (yippee!).  In that time, we've discovered that we pretty much only have one thing in common: Television.  We love our TV shows.  Namely: Scrubs, The Office, Castle, Glee (me), and all things Sports-related (very much him).  We recently decided we better try to substitute the pizza that usually accompanies this joint hobby with more healthy eating habits so we can work on losing the 60-some-odd pounds we've collectively gained in the past 10 months but...that's not what THIS blog is about.  I'm fat and I digress...

Anyway, here's what this blog is really about: Justin Bieber.

If reading that name made you roll your eyes and forced an "oh you've gotta be kidding me" kind of groan from deep down in the recesses of your soul, you're in the right place.  On the other hand, if reading that name made you feel things that should only be felt when you take that first bite of Cheesecake Factory Oreo Cheesecake, LEAVE NOW.  You are not welcome here and may God have mercy on your soul.

So, if you're still reading: Justin Bieber. If you don't know that name yet, just wait 5 seconds. Austin didn't know who he was either when we started watching SNL last Saturday night, but that's only because the kid was born no more than 5 days prior to the taping of that episode.  If you Google Image the name, you're gonna get a kid who looks like he's fresh off the Disney Channel emo farm.  I keep waiting for the tabloids to break the news that Miley Cyrus and Zac Efron had a kid together when they were 6 years old and named him Justin Bieber to keep anyone from finding out. But, oh snap!  Surprise!  The kid's got a voice of pure gold! We did NOT see that coming.

Unfortunately for the tabloids though, no substantial evidence has been released to make a claim like that.  YET.  (You heard it here first, folks.)  Actually, what I find super strange is the fact that this kid was founded by none other than what I like to call the King of hip-hop himself: Usher.  Yeah, that's right, freakin USHER.  I mean, come on! Unfortunately for Austin, I'm not an expert in hip-hop by anyone's definition.  But I do know Usher.  And I had respect for Usher.  No more.

Anyway, one of Usher's posse saw some self-made YouTube videos that Justin posted of him singing songs by JT, Chris Brown and others, including an Usher song or two, and flew the kid out to meet Usher.  Then Usher pretty much signed him immediately and now gets the allowance of every kid in America.  Those who still buy CD's anyway.  And officially made JB (that's Usher's cute little nickname for him) Usher's bank best friend.  Usher even makes an appearance in JB's video for "One Time," basically allowing him to throw a party for a bunch of 12-year olds in his own house and get silly string stains all over his perfect white walls. F that man. F that.

There are plenty more things that bother me about this kid that I'm not going to go into in detail because I should find other productive ways of pretending to work at work.  Bubble Blaster won't play itself you know!  But I will touch on those points: For one, through all of this nonsense, where is the "single mother" that raised him?  And who the heck taught him that sucking in your lip after every line in a song would drive the tweens wild? 

But, when all is said and done, I really only need to say one thing: What the heck are all these people gonna do when this kid finally hits puberty?

If you laugh at this, your soul might suffer...

The following is a 100% true story:

My Dad works with this lady in Overland Park that takes care of her 20-something, mentally handicapped nephew.  While at work last week she got a call from him that went something like this:

Nephew: Aunt ___ you have to come home, right now!
Aunt: Why? What happened?
Nephew: I caught a troll!
Aunt: What? What are you talking about?
Nephew: I caught a TROLL!

Naturally, the Aunt just assumed that he was playing around or was somewhat confused so she said she'd just see it when she got home after work.  However, the nephew was so insistent that she come home that she decided she better go see what all the fuss was about.  She told her Supervisor something had come up at home and left work early that day.

When she arrived home, there were a few police cars there and she started to get worried.  She spoke to one in the yard and, after confirming who she was to the 20-year old man, the police told her what happened.

Brace yourself...

Apparently, a Census worker was in her neighborhood that day and stopped by her home.  That man just happened to be a little person; a midget.  Her nephew answered the door and was immediately confused.  He thought he was looking at "a troll."  He grabbed the poor guy and locked him in a closet until the police arrived.

People, for the love of all that is holy, fill out your Census.


PS - The police were able to convince the man not to press charges by reminding him that, if he did, he'd be on the news as "the troll who's suing a mentally handicapped man." 

PPS - Just so you know...my soul is toast.

Raw Fish

So Austin gets struck every once in awhile with these weird hunger pangs for Sushi.  Weirdo.  I mean, come on.  Besides the fact that the stuff is awful, we pretty much couldn't be farther from any body of water worth eating whatever you catch out of it.  Unless you LIKE Clinton Lake tuna...

Anyway, when he gets these pangs, normally, we visit a Chinese Buffet in Larry that also serves Sushi so we can both satisfy our appetite.  We've been there at least 5 times in the past month. But that's beside the point.  This blog is about me.  Here's the real story:

Every time Austin gets Sushi, I have this weird desire to try it - just in case it wasn't as bad as last time.  It always is but I still always want to try it.  He'll see me eye-balling his plate and say, "Are you surrre?" like I'm some dumb kid who knows it's hot but keeps grabbing the stupid burner anyway.  He's right.  Inevitably, I try it.  And inevitably, I hate it.

Here's the problem: I actually CRAVE the crap.  Have you ever craved something you hate?  What's up with that?  Last week, I even got super sick off the stuff but still...here I sit...craving Sushi.  It's so weird and I hate it.  I have this theory that my body refuses to believe that something so minuscule as raw fish wrapped in rice can master it.  I mean, I love brussel sprouts, spinach, cabbage, liver and onions, and most things that would make others spend their night in the latrine.

"You cannot defeat me!" -My body

The problem with that theory is that I don't have the desire to overcome my hate for the tomato.  Those things can just stay as far away from my mouth as possible, thank you very much.

Austin and Marshall both think I'm some sort of Sushi masochist in desperate need of help.  The non-sexual type. They think I enjoy the fact that my gag reflex is activated every time I put some of that seaweed wrapped nasty in my mouth.  Enjoy the gag reflex?  What am I, a model?

Though that would explain why I dated some of those guys as long as I did...

The Princess has Finally Chosen a Suitor

I went to visit Austin in Bowling Green on January 29. When I got there, I picked him up at the school after work and, ignoring his requests to shower and change first, took him straight to BWW for some dinner.

After dinner, we went to his studio apartment so he could change and stop complaining. =) When we got there, I laid down on the bed and he went into the kitchen. The following ensued:

Me: What was that noise?
Austin: I think your phone vibrated. You got a text.
Me: Oh ok.
Austin: ...are you going to see who it's from?
Me: Eh. Maybe later.

After a few minutes, Austin hadn't come out of the kitchen so I jumped up to check out the text. It was from Facebook, letting me know that Austin had updated his status (because I Facebook stalk him even when I'm not on Facebook).

The text said: 'Austin Pratt has updated his status to 'Austin hopes she says yes.'

I turned to ask what it meant and found him on his knee with this:

We met on MySpace and got engaged on Facebook. Technology rocks!!

PS - Now everyone leave me alone! =)

Ok, Fine. I Agree With You, KJ. I'd Be Hot If I Was Someone Else

Apparently, my readers are not ammused by my low-self esteem posts. What's up with that? Friends, this is an attempt to make you all feel better about yourself. My hope is that, if you look in the mirror someday and don't like what you see, perhaps you'll say to yourself, "Well, at least I don't have to go on a face diet." And you don't. You're beautiful.

I, on the other hand, am a whopping 25 points below the average person on the official Asian hotness scale. In America, that means I'm practically a fungus. Amungus. Haha! Ok, I'm done.

But, fear not, loyal reader(s)! There is hope for this unfortunate looking woman child yet. One of my most favoritest friends has made yet another attempt to show me that I have nothing to be concerned about.

KJ has the uncanny ability to see me in the most oddest of places. Namely, on other peoples faces.* Over the years, I've been told by this friend that I look somewhat like the following:

Mary Shannon

What's that? You don't know who Mary Shannon is?! Yeah, me neither.

Apparently she is on the USA show In Plain Sight. She plays the ahem freakin hot witness protection agent assigned to keep all these important people from gettin dead. And she does. So I hear.

Anyway, KJ told me once that this chick reminds him of me. Why? Well, apart from the fact that I never wear brown and it would take one heck of a bra to give me that kind of figure, apparently its a tie between her hair and her amazing ability to make men do anything she says just by pointing a gun at them. Have you ever seen me hold a gun? It's intimidating awesome so cool scary. And I guess that does it for some guys.

Unfortunately, this dream will never come true for KJ because I don't like guns. Unless you're a creeper planning on breaking into my room late at night in which case, I have 7 under my pillow.

Anna Torv

If you're saying to yourself, "Mary Shannon, ha! More like Molly Shannon!" you're right. And it's all downhill from here.

KJ just recently told me that this gorgeous young lady also reminds him of me. Again, citing the hair. (Though I'm pretty sure the last time I saw him my hair was about 6 inches shorter and 3 shades darker.) That's why I like KJ. He remembers the good 'ole days.

Anyway, Anna Torv plays the role of Special Agent Olivia Dunham in the new Fox TV show Fringe. She apparently has Marine Corps, FBI experience and is a little bitter thanks to some unknown betrayal. See a pattern here? KJ has a thing for blondes with guns and a bad attitude. But KJ, I only have 1.5 out of 3.

Needed: One freakin hot chick with a gun and vendetta, who secretly just needs to be held by a loving, funny, really cool dude. Redheads need not apply.

Princess Peach

And here's the doozie. But, believe it or not, KJ is not the only person who has referenced Mario's lost love as my lost twin.

Perhaps it's, again, due the the hair (not even close). Perhaps it's the fact that she's a Princess and, in case you didn't know, I am too. Or, perhaps it's due to the fact that scary monster-type creatures like to kidnap her and she's always waiting on some short, chubby plumber and his stupid brother to jump over the fire balls and weird long-necked turtles and stop rescuing wannabes. I'm just sayin.

Oh well. There are worst female gaming characters to be compared too. At least I got the modest, high-necked dress, gloves and dress to the floor chick. He could've said I remind him of Lora Croft and I would've had to have him committed. She's not even blonde.

So, what exactly am I supposed to infer from all of this? All of these beautiful, fictional characters remind KJ of me. And, by his definition, in a good way. This is supposed to make me feel better about my 35% hotness, right? Well KJ, it doesn't. You totally fail. Why? Because I don't carry a gun. And I don't ever want to be in the military. And, other than that one time, I've never thrown a turtle shell at the driver in front of me hoping to knock him off a cliff. I'm just a plain 'ole assistant with fading blonde hair who drives 80 miles an hour on the highway in a black Jeep. Sorry to disapp...wait a sec, that last part is kinda hot.

Note to self: NEVER sell the Jeep. Thanks, Kev!


*Whoa, that rhymed. My bad.

Smiling = Ugly

Text conversation I had with Romeo this morning:

Him: How are you feeling this morning?

Me: Well I was feeling pretty blah but I just read a comment on my blog that made my day.

Him: What was it?

Me: Remember that post about the face analyzer that said I was ugly? The creator commented.

Him: The creator? What did he say?

Me: "I am Rhee SC, BAPA developer. You seems to landmark facial point or fiducials incorrectly. The calculated attractiveness in general, 60-90 for average peoples. You'd better try to analyze your face with more standardized photo and follow guiding description for better define facial landmark. Thanks."

Him: Haha, nice. Why did that make your day?

Me: It gave me something to blog about.

Though, I gotta tell ya, I'm not completely sure what to blog about. Nothing about that comment really makes me look good. I mean, according to him (or her), I'm not the 25 points BELOW the average on the attractiveness scale.

Instead, I'm so freakin dense I can't even figure out simple "put that pointer here and click" instruction. Is that supposed to be better than being ugly? It's not really working out all that well for Jessica Simpson.

And what does "standardized photo" mean exactly?* I thought it just meant "try and keep people out of the picture that are prettier than you."

Sigh.


*UPDATE: I went back and read the instructions a little further on the site (pardon my moment of male-ness) and wouldn't you know it, there's a link for good tips of a "standardized photo." Tip #2: "Your face is relaxed and lips are closed smoothly." So, that explains the lip index issue. Too bad I don't own a single photo of me without either my mouth wide open or flashing those pearly whites. So basically, if I could keep my big mouth shut, I'd be freakin gorgeous.