More Mom & Dad Tales

Tonight, my dad expounded on the controversial topic of modern day Korean pop stars versus the classical Korean singer-performers of his generation, and doled out valuable counsel in between shots of Bek Se Ju, a tasty Korean rice wine that tastes like ginseng tea. He is a very wise man for someone who made so many mistakes in his lifetime- or I guess, because of the mistakes. He is also a fun person to drink with.

The other night, my mom and I stopped by at a Chevron. Filling the tank took no time, so afterward, I sat in the car waiting as my mom carried on with her newest obsession: wiping down the car with her dollar-store glass cleaner every chance she gets. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe.

Suddenly, about 30 feet to our right, this dude sprints to the car parked there and starts kicking the hell out of the car door, while the girl inside yells and curses her brains out. I'm sitting in the car in severe shock and thinking somewhere in the folds of my gray matter that I should dial 911, but I seem to have lost the ability to move to look for my phone, so I just stare stupidly. I think the Hamburger Helper hand, or even the Paper Clip from Word would have been more helpful than me.

Luckily, the girl herself brings out her cell and starts dialing 911, mute curses still streaming out of her mouth a mile a minute (her window was rolled up so I couldn't hear what she was saying, but her eyes and arm gestures said it all). Then, I guessed that the dude had taken enough of his anger out on the car because he ran away, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

But then, 30 seconds later, dude sprints back to the car, this time with a sledgehammer-type weapon in his hand and starts wacking the window with it! Bam bam bam! Pieces of glass start flying everywhere, and I'm thinking oh shit, phone phone phone oh shit! But then I realize it's the head of the weapon that's breaking into bits and flying everywhere, not the window. The guy I guess realizes the same thing, so after he wacks the shit out of the car window, he runs away again. For good this time.

Finally able to tear my eyes away from this scene, I look for my mom and realize that she's still cleaning the car window with her dollar-store imitation windex. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe. Spray spray spray. Wipe wipe.

Hoo hoo hoo lord! Every time I think of that night I burst out laughing as I picture my mom, this little Asian lady calmly wiping away at the stains on her car window while a full blown act of violence is taking place 30 feet behind her.

Musings and Tips

Smoke from a chimney: it's filthy, it pollutes the air and our lungs, it smears the sky black, it's not natural at all, but for some reason, it's pretty,...romantic,...the perfect touch to a sunrise over the city scape.

The best way to occupy your time during a layover at the airport:

If you have >= 3.5 hours, take the train to the city and take a whirlwind tour.

If you have<= 3.5 hours, go to the nearest newsstand and catch up on the latest events. Pick up at least 1 local paper, the Wall Street (where on the left hand column of the front page, they give convenient bullet point summaries of the goings-on in the world), the NYT, and USA Today (read the Life section to catch up on pop culture- movies and such). Don't buy them, for Chrissake, just stand there for 45 minutes or so reading. I used to do that with the NYT at Wawa every morning before work, after purchasing my daily jug of Wawa diet iced green tea.

Pre-E-Ticket Days of Yore

Does anyone remember how we booked flights before the advent of e-tickets? Because I sure didn't. This question randomly popped into my mind as I dazedly traversed the Columbus Airport (due to a long long red-eye flight, I am presently existing in a state of extreme zombieness). I vaguely remembered that we had to bring the ticket to the airport on the day of travel, but that's all I remember of those pre-historic days. The only way I could think of was that we called in to book tickets. But that was crazy, I thought. That would clog up phone lines. Or something. It just sounds crazy, calling in to book tickets.

But, as I discovered through a quick online search, that is exactly what we used to do before the advent of electronic tickets! I can't believe it! How quaint were our ways! Amazing...

Also, I was reaching for a paper towel in the bathroom- it was one of those sensored ones that just zoom right out when you reach for it. Next to me stood a little blonde girl on a chair as her mom helped her wash her hands.

"Kid, we didn't have those when I was a kid," I said to her, gesturing to the sensored paper towel ejector. Man the things that can change in just a couple decades.

Umma-ism

Here is another hilarious umma-ism (umma=mom in Korean):

"You should eat a little something before we go out to dinner."

And:

Umma: Who's this?

Me: Leonardo DiCaprio.

Umma: Lehnodacabbri?

Me: Lee-uhn

Umma: Lee-uhn

Me: -ar

Umma: -ar

Me: doh

Umma: doh

Me: Leonardo

Umma: Leonardo. Leonardo.

Me: Dicaprio. Di-

Umma: What there's more?! Sick!

Instructions for drawing a picture of Angie's dream house

1. Take a crayon.

2. Draw a fancy treehouse.
a) Winding staircase entrance.
b) Skylights.
c) Fireplace.

3. Add a swing set.

4. Color in a sparkling lake.

5. Add a canoe.

Sarah and I took a day trip to Poulsbo to visit a friend who lives and works on an organic farm there. She took us out canoeing off Bainbridge Island, and it was the most wonderful adventure. There's nothing like the feeling of being so close to the water, just like the ducks. References were made, or images swam in my head, of Life of Pi, Tom Hanks and Wilson, canoeing in Sarah Finseth's backyard pond (and getting lost), Ariel and Prince Eric, the Row row row your boat nursery rhyme, the whaleship Essex (and regrettably, those math story problems that go: "If you're swimming against the current at x mph, with the speed of the current being y mph...")...as we paddled through the harbor, winding through the ferries and bobbing alongside the ducks, with the pink-gold Seattle skyline behind us and the blue sky above us. The moments are rare, when my ideal world aligns with the real one, but when it does...whew! It's marvelous! I felt inexplicably content, as well as slightly sweaty under that life-vest.

Regression

After a marvelous day spent in downtown Seattle, Sarah and I are back home watching Cinderella. Sup sup! Trap trap! Cat cat! Gus Gus! Apparently, mice speak doublespeak too.

Oh my god, I just noticed foreshadowing! There's a scene where Cinderella climbs the stairs to take breakfast to her ugly stepsisters, and she loses a shoe- just like when she runs away from the ball later! I knew we should've watched this in English class.

The most popular version of Cinderella was written by Frenchman Charles Perrault, hence the French surnames announced at the ball. According to the wikipedia entry, "One can argue that this is one of the greatest stories in the history of story-telling times." I suppose anything can be argued in this day and age.

Mood Ring

I'm irritated from trying to understand mangled English while being congested, fatigued, and constantly cold. Bleh. But I am also still slightly caffeinated by the doubly spectacular Bourne Ultimatum. So I think I can get through the rest of this editing process without blowing a fuse. Only a nose maybe.

Home=Free Food+Extravant Doting

I've only been home for 3 hours, and my mom's already trying to stuff me like a turkey until I wind up a statistic (one of the 60% of overweight Americans).

Mom: Angie, taste this!

Me: Ok!...Mmm, it's delicious!

Mom: Want to have some with rice?

Me: Tomorrow, mom. I'm not hungry right now.

10 minutes later...(repeat above dialogue).

15 minutes later...(repeat above dialogue, yet again).

10 minutes later...(you know the deal).

Mom: Tomorrow, tomorrow, it's always tomorrow. I thought your name was Angie, not Annie!

Me: Mom, that's cuz you keep asking me the same question over and over again. I'm not going to answer the same question 3 different ways!

Alas, reason fails in the ears of a mother who misses coddling her younguns. Also, yet again, I embellished the dialogue with the "Angie, not Annie" bit.

Double the Pleasure, Double the Fun, and Double the Clothes

One of the terrific benefits of having a twin sister is that we can borrow from each other's wardrobe, so really it's like having twice the wardrobe. Most of the time, thought, I'm the one who borrows from Sarah's wardrobe, so I dunno...should I be insulted by that? Whatever, so not only can we borrow from each other's wardrobe, but sometimes I get clothes for free once Sarah gets tired of something, so sometimes I get to actually come to own one of her cool outfits.

But usually it takes at least 6 months for her to tire of an article of clothing, so it takes patience, this acquiring of sister's clothing thing. But I tease her about it all in good fun all the while. Take the following incident, for instance:

Two weeks ago, Sarah bought a beautiful blue summer dress at H&M patterned with a lighter blue heart-star-flower petal pattern and a poofy skirt part (sorry, I don't know the technical term for that). One week after the purchase, she wore it, and it looked gorgeous on her.

"Oh my god, Sarah I love it!" I gushed all girly-like. "I can't wait till you get tired of it so I can have it!"

"Oh, har har," she laughed rather sarcastically. "Is that how you look at all my clothes, you vulture?"

"Yeah, isn't it a great system?"

Today, two weeks after the Purchase, I'm lounging on the bed while Sarah packs in a flurry. Going through her mountainous clothes pile, she holds up the beautiful blue summer dress she bought two weeks ago at H&M, and said "Ann, do you want this?"

It was something beyond my wildest dreams. Two weeks, not even a month before she decided it wasn't "her"! I couldn't believe my luck. But all the same, I really couldn't believe she was giving up on it so soon.

"Are you sure, Sarah? But it's so pretty, how can you be tired of it already?"

"Really, you think so? Maybe I sh-"

"No no no, actually you're right, it's not so great! I'll take it!"

We both rolled on the bed laughing hysterically.

Hoo hoo, oh man, how lucky am I to have a twin sister with decent taste in clothes? Oh, and I'd like to note that she did not actually call me a vulture. But I thought it would have been funny if she did, so I took some liberty with the dialogue. Sue me silly!

On another note (G#), I have a four hour layover in Atlanta, GA tomorrow, yall!! God I love airports- as I was trying to tell someone earlier, but couldn't think of the right words, it's the hub of transition! And it's a great place to catch up on reading since there's not much else to do, so for that, I've got...Dun dun dun: Quantum Mechanics Demystified! I don't usually like the dummies/idiots/demystified books, but I figure it's better to know the dummy version than no version at all, right? Don't worry, I've got some good ole Sherlock Holmes adventures if I get too boggled down in whosits and whatsits and other weird physics.