Monthly Archives: February 2009

Struck by shower head

Posted on by
1

I have a love hate relationship with my shower at home. I love to hate it. Wah wah. There is no such thing as “jumping into the shower” at my place unless you’re looking to get doused with either freezing water or scalding water. Adjusting it is a fine art I have not learned despite having used it for 2.5 years by this point. I have figured out that only turning on the hot water takes several minutes to yield hot water. At that point, the cold water has to be cranked on, and the hot water has to be cranked down. Too many twists in either direction results in waiting uncomfortably out of the water’s reach while the temperature adjusts itself. One might think this method is a waste of water. Luckily, there is absolutely no water pressure so if it’s even possible to get a decent temperature going, one much patiently hang out under the dribble of water waiting for enough water to work up a lather and then more to rinse it out.

I had toyed with the notion of replacing the shower head, because that worked for Daniel. When I looked at the shower head, I once again remembered it was a newer, fancier model, and it did nothing to fix the water pressure. I then decided to hold onto the hose, I’m not sure why, maybe to cry out in anguish about the slightly too hot water, but mostly to see if I could even feel the water rushing through it. I couldn’t, and that’s when it happened. The shower head worked out of the holder, and before I could block it went THWUMP! and fell all top heavy directly onto my shoulder. I was surprised by how much it hurt, but I guess my already weakened emotional status could not handle the blunt force trauma. Immediately I thought about posting it to Sad-Sigh, then I forgot until I scratched my shoulder and felt the invisible bruise.

Taunted by my mom

Posted on by
Reply

I got an email from my mom yesterday asking when I was going back home (after having been gone nearly a week) and when I responded, “I don’t know” I promptly got an email that read, “Um, I’d better call Shiao-Chen to give ‘Cash’ to Angela so we will all have freedom to be anywhere :).”

Shiao-Chen is my mom’s friend who has a friend who is giving away her apricot poodle because she supposedly can’t keep it anymore. Cash is the poodle’s name; and I have been teased about her upcoming arrival to our place for several months already. At first, we were supposed to get the dog around November, and then December, and then after Presidents Day. Supposedly, they’re flying back from Taiwan some time this month to bring Cash to the U.S. to us.

There has been some doubt about whether or not we should bother adopting Cash and I, desperately wanting a dog, have argued that a year in the U.S. is better than another year in Taiwan being somewhat neglected (the current caretakers have four kids and Cash’s brother). My parents argue that with us out and about all the time it’d be too difficult to own a dog and be able to travel. So, rather than saying she wants me to come home, my mom feels the need to taunt me about Cash.

As an adult, I’ve already been tricked by the notion of them getting another dog – my mom claimed when we cleaned her house, she’d get another dog. We did that, and then she sold the house. Sigh. Oh to be old and living at home begging for a dog like I’m a kid again.

Watch the smell…

Posted on by
2

I had the worst headache at work, and was spotted continually rubbing my neck while on a video conference call with my co-worker now based in NY (damn those web cams). So, I ran over a few blocks away to Bed Bath & Beyond to get some tylenol. Some areas of SOMA are actually a bit sketchy, and there was a guy with a bucket splashing water from a puddle all over the place but I couldn’t be bothered as I was on a mission. But as I walked by he politely said “watch the smell! someone went to the bathroom… disgusting!” And he was right. It reeked of human shit, piled high in the gutter and somewhat smeared on the tire of a truck. I was already feeling nauseous because of my headache, but this just about made me puke right there. Morettis are known to have weak stomachs. But I kept thinking what a nice guy, warning me about the upcoming smell and taking the liberty to wash away the human fecal matter with rain water and a bucket. But it seemed so odd it make me think what the hell was going on. Was it him that took the shit? Then I thought about the person who owned the truck. Could you imagine coming back to your car and feeling crazy because you swear you smell shit nearby, and swear that there’s watering down shit smeared on your tire, but no clear evidence confirming these suspicions… Just writing this post makes me gag a little bit.

Only Allowed in Public if in a Bubble

Posted on by
1

Soumeya and I took some time out of our busy day yesterday to see the Yves Saint Laurent collection at de Young museum and as I looked at the evening gowns and tuxedo suits without any attention to detail, I became very aware of a noxious odor drifting into my nostrils. I turned to Soumeya and demanded to know “Who wears baby powder to a museum!” baby powder being one of the things that will trigger my fragrance allergies. As Soumeya wondered if she was the smelly beast, I turned to see who the offending person might be so as to avoid standing next to him/her throughout the rest of the exhibition. A few feet away there was a baby strapped into a chest harness, completely oblivious to having caused my discomfort. I found this hilarious on two parts because I had prematurely judged the baby as being an asshole, and because what were the chances that it would be an actual baby reeking of baby powder, and not some jerk who put on a bit too much Secret deodorant or used a bit too much Dove bar soap?