Archive | May, 2010

Amoking kills happy fun times please

30 May

There are few things in this world that bring me more enjoyment than seeing Chinese (or any other non-English speaking) people wearing nonsense English shirts. I saw a lot of them when I was in China last summer. There are the ones that don’t make sense at all (like “Beautiful things are happy when you”) as well as the just plain random. I remember seeing a girl with “Orange slices” written in large letters on her shirt.

Today we had lunch and did a little grocery shopping in Chicago’s Chinatown. Our cashier was wearing a shirt that read something along the lines of “Keep with like-minded people to prevent others from amoking.” It had a picture of a happy white dog on it. (I’m still trying to find the connection.) I found it especially interesting since amoking–or smoking, rather, is so prevalent in China.

And to prove I’m in it for the humor, not the hating, I’m tempted to buy this shirt and wear it around China, just to give the Chinese some amusement (and all the more reason to sneak photos of me). (For you non-Chinese readers, the characters mean “White people don’t understand.”)

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Hey there, Mr. Blue, we’re so pleased to be with you

28 May

You know that phrase “There’s not a cloud in the sky?” I always thought it was just a–well, phrase, but it turns out, it can actually happen. I went outside today and there was nothing but blue sky. It was incredible. I haven’t seen that in ages. So naturally I went shopping and visited the library, where I had another random person sighting. This guy walked in with a sombrero around his neck, a guitar case in his hand, and a full-size plastic trick-or-treating Jack-o-Lantern hanging from his belt. I can only assume that he is a musician who specializes in Cinco de Mayo and Halloween songs.

The price of frozen yogurt

27 May

I am all about frozen yogurt these days. I wasn’t always. I remember when Red Mango opened in Evanston two years ago. I think my roommates and I even had a countdown, we were so excited. But when the moment finally arrived and I had a cup of real fro-yo in my hands, I believe my exact words were, “Man, this crap kinda sucks.” I was expecting vanillay-creaminess and instead got sour bitterness. And it cost me over $4! I was sorely disappointed and decided to write off frozen yogurt for the time being. Then last year Stephen started raving about a place called Berry Chill. So on a nice day we walked two miles so that frozen yogurt could redeem itself. And it did. Berry Chill’s various flavors tasted much better than Red Mango’s original, plus they had mochi as a topping! Suddenly I was a frozen yogurt fan again. Since then a variety of frozen yogurt places have sprung up in my neighborhood–Starfruit, Yogen Fruz, and more. I love them all, but I have one gripe–they are all so freaking expensive!

I got a medium passion fruit frozen yogurt with mochi and yogurt chips (yes, I put yogurt chips on my yogurt) today from Berry Chill and it was $7.25. Over $7 for a frozen treat! I don’t spend that much on lunch! I remember 10 years ago my family went to California on vacation. It was a time when Ben & Jerry’s ice cream wasn’t prevalent in Kentucky so we HAD to get some in Cali. I don’t remember how it tasted, but I still remember my dad complaining about the $4/waffle cone price tag. I wonder what he would think of Berry Chill.

But why do all these yogurt places start their prices at $4 (for a small, plain, with no toppings. And who orders that?)? Because they can get away with it. Because stupid people like me will buy it. On the weekend Berry Chill often has a line out the door.

Sadly, this is why I don’t eat healthily as often as I should. $1 vanilla cone from McDonald’s vs. $7 frozen yogurt…it’s a tough decision.

Final note: is anyone else creeped out by the “live and active cultures” yogurt places advertise? I know it’s supposed to aid digestion, but I feel a little squirmy thinking about something “active and alive” in my intestines. I think i can feel them moving and setting up shop now.

Interesting…

25 May

I saw this shirt on Perez’s site.

My question is: should this shirt come in a size 2XL? Is that what they call irony?

A post about tweezers

24 May

I spent a good amount of last night and this morning looking for my tweezers. The last time I saw them they were on a shelf above the toilet (you can already see where this is going, can’t you?). I even went as far as to dig through the garbage, thinking they may had fallen in. I eventually shot Stephen an email, thinking he might had done something with them. This was his response: “I dropped it in the toilet. now is gone.”

So I found myself at Target this afternoon in search of a new pair. It’s been a while since I bought tweezers. The ones I had had a bit of sentimental value–I bought them on my very first day at Northwestern at the Osco Drug, back when Osco Drug existed in Evanston. And now they are somewhere in a sewage pipe. I’m getting sidetracked though.

Why are there so many types of tweezers? I had no idea. The prices ranged anywhere from $1.02 to $22 with most being around $4-$6. I stood there forever trying to decide which ones to get. They all looked about the same, except for the pink and the gold ones. So I threw the $1.02 regular silver ones into my basket. Hopefully tweezers are tweezers and they work just the same. If not, I can always flush the $1.02 ones down the toilet (or better yet–throw them away in the garbage) and head back to the massive tweezers aisle.

Voting under the influence?

18 May

Today was primary election day in Kentucky. The explosion of campaign signs that greeted me the minute I got off the interstate yesterday clued me in. But I’m not here to talk Tea Party, I’m here to talk booze. I was “Krogering” with my mom this morning when I saw a typed sign hanging over the beer display: “Alcohol will not be sold until after 6 p.m. on Election Day, Tuesday, May 18.” Granted I don’t know if I’ve ever been in an alcoholic beverage section of a grocery store on election day in any other state, but this rule struck me as a bit odd. Is it just a Kentucky thing? And what are they trying to prevent, drunk voting? I’m stumped.

Chicago to Cincinnati in stages

17 May

I decided to go to Cincinnati for the week to visit my family and friends. I just now realized that since I discovered Megabus last September, I have not made the drive to Cincinnati on my own. I forgot the various mental and physical stages that accompany a 300-mile solo road trip.

Stage 1: Initial excitement and relief that everything fit in my small car. I get a little thrill hopping on I-94 E. I even got excited when I drove my first mile. “Woohoo! I’m 1/300 of the way there!” I thought. I kid you not.

Stage 2: The realization that I’m only 1/300 of the way there. I only drive on 90/94 for 32 miles, but it always seems like so much longer. I hate the way the road feels and especially hate the ever-present construction.

Stage 3: Happy to be off I-90, only to realize I have to go 150 miles on I-65. It’s stage 2 all over again.

Stage 4: I accept my fate and try to relax. I put on one of my mix CDs I made for the occasion and get lost in the music (while keeping an eye on the road, of course). I also call my mom and talk to her for an hour, despite the fact that I am driving to see her so that we can talk even more. Also included in this stage is the excitement over the vast amount of windmills as I draw closer to Indianapolis (pictured).

Stage 5: Yeah! I just finished driving 150 miles on one road! And I’m in Indianapolis! What a nice city! Yeah! ::fist pump::

Stage 6: Crap. I have to go 80 more miles on I-74. There’s still almost two hours of driving left. Why can’t I be from Indy?

Stage 7: I completely lose it. I blast my music so I can feel it on my skin and completely ignore the fact that my windows are not tinted in the slightest bit. As much as one can dance while driving a car, I’m on it. I’m also belting the lyrics as loud as possible. This stage is the one stage that makes the whole trip worth it.

Stage 8: Crap, the Awesome Driving Tunes Mix CD is over.

Stage 9: Those 80 miles went surprisingly fast. And the 17 miles on 275 did as well! Now I’m at the exit! Yeah!

Stage 10: Why do I live so freaking far from the exit? Alas. At this point any song sounds good and the end is near. I also have to pee like a racehorse.

That was my trip, in short. It rained most of the way, which added an additional stress element (but also made Stage 7 ever more pleasant because the skies had finally cleared up). I’ve made the drive so many times that I know the exact amount of miles to drive on each highway. I also know which exits have the cheapest gas. It was fun for a bit (a very short bit), but I am happily taking Megabus next time.