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Oh the holidays

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PART I
When I tell people that my family exchanges Christmas presents, they imagine a fresh crisp tree brimming with bright lights, ornaments, and candles, and a warm welcoming home for the holiday gift exchange, where big boxes in red wrapping wait for the special morning.

In reality, this is the photo I took on xmas eve 2003, when I got home for the holidays. The box in this photo (blue, in the center) was given by a coworker of my father's -- he put it under the houseplant in the back corner of the living room, for lack of anywhere else to put it.

Since then, the presents at my house have always been stored, exchanged, and opened under the potted schefflera plant. This year though, I'm not sure where the houseplant went (died? moved?) but the plant wasn't there for it's gift storing duties. This holiday, in respect for tradition, we stored and exchanged our Christmas presents on the floor in the back corner of the living room, because it's where we've become comfortable celebrating the holiday... because it's where the schefflera used to be.


PART II
After the holidays, my friends often ask me what I received for xmas. This isn't out of politeness -- I have a reputation for receiving bad presents, and they are hoping I got something terrible so they can have a good laugh.

For years now, I have been trying to solve the problem by sending my family xmas lists. After receiving a porcelain cow in 2005, I tried sending a list in 2006 with only one item on it, and a very specific item at that: Cranium the board game. (They got me Cranium in Spanish.)

Last year, I tried a new tactic, where I sent an email with specific links to specific items on amazon.com. This sorta worked, but not quite.

So this year, I tried the opposite strategy: I told them what I DIDN'T want. The email read something like this:

For Christmas, please do not purchase me any things, as my apartment is microscopic and cannot hold more objects. My list:
- An oil change
- A haircut
- Vehicle registration
- Donations for my IRA

Apparently, this xmas list makes me sound poor, but I didn't realize it at the time. In the end, I got four things (two are objects): a sweater, a jigsaw puzzle, a gift certificate for a restaurant, and money. Well it's not what I asked for but hey -- cash in a red envelope, the Asian family classic.  ¶ 6:33 PM 0 comments

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Crash Landing

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Questions you would have asked if you'd seen me yesterday:
(1) "Why is your arm in a sling?"
(2) "Why is your sling so ghetto?"

The answers to these questions begin with understanding Sean, and his enjoyment of motorized vehicles. Or more specifically, his tendecy to pretend to be a motorized vehicle.

Vehicle 1: Tank
I first noticed this tendency about a year ago, when Sean was in the presence of some small children. It began with him putting a kid on his shoulders, making his hands into fists, and holding those fists up near his temples. The kid would be instructed to hold onto these fists, which would make Sean's forearms similar to joysticks, much like the levers that control the two treads of a tank.

Then, "BRRRRRRRRRRR. Kachunk kaching rrrrrr wiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee! BRRRRRRR..."

Sean would let the kid pull/push his forearm levers, and he would move around accordingly, the way he'd imagine a tank would move if the levers were put into those positions. I assumed he did it for the kid, since they usually enjoyed the tank game. Recently of course, I learned otherwise.

Vehicle 2: Airplane
This tendency evolved recently into a new form. Unlike the tank model, Sean realized that he could give airplanes to people that were bigger than small children, so long as they were significantly smaller than he. This is convenient for him, of course, because a significantly smaller person is regularly at hand for him to give airplanes to. (By 'airplane' I mean that thing where you balance someone on your feet, as if making them fly.)

Sean: Hey Laura, want another airplane?
Me: No.
Sean: Please?
Me: [sighs] I'm eating lunch.
Sean: [pouts]
Me: Ok fine. I'm going to finish my bagel, and then you can give me an airplane as soon as you've cleaned those dishes.

Sean always has a new idea for his airplane ride, that is always a surprise for his airplane passenger. The first flight, it was radio communication with the tower for take-off and landing. ("This is Tower to LC678X, repeat Tower to LC678X. You are clear for take-off.") Other scenarios included lightning, troubled radio communication, bad weather, and general turbulence. So far, all flights were successful, until the most recent idea he had, which was Crash Landing.

This wasn't a very long flight, as you can imagine. We had some troubled radio communication with the tower ("LC678X to Tower, we are having an engine problem") and ended with me unexpectedly free falling and flailing and "OWWWWW!!!"

I made him make me a sling for my right arm (without which I am completely useless) , which was all bruised up and sore when I moved it. He agreed, using a grey t-shirt tied together with some rope and a few knots, which I swear was designed to make me look like a war victim in a 3rd world country.

Anyway, my arm is better enough to type things now, which is good because it took me like 5minutes to brush my teeth with my left hand, and jars just couldn't be opened at all.

Next time I'm coaxed into being a motorized vehicle, it's going to be with Sully Sullenberger, or no ride at all.  ¶ 2:00 PM 1 comments

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Holidays

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Ghetto -- aka virtual homemade holiday card drawn in microsoft paint. Ah, only the best for my friends!

Not that my holidays are un-ghetto or something. The "Christmas tree" at my apt is a chair w/ a green-ish blanket hanging over it. We added some LED's, strips of red Saran wrap, and earrings on it to make it look more authentic. Classiest of the classy.

Happy holidays :)  ¶ 10:55 PM 0 comments

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Or do you only date White People?

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A family reunion on my mom's side of the family just passed last week, when some of my relatives were passing through town. I had a meeting which prevented me from attending the beginning of the event, so I arrive to find a giant circle of Chinese people sitting tightly around a humongous table, except for a single chair which awaits a last person to arrive.   ¶ 4:32 PM 1 comments

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Torture

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It's been consuming me.   ¶ 12:10 PM 0 comments

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Inhibit Your Ability To Ride Simulators

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Someone I know (whose identity I will protect considering the extreme embarrassment of this blog entry) sent me an invitation to an official Star Trek event. Some excerpts:

STAR TREK: THE EXHIBITION
Transport into parallel universes of the past and future!
* The actual shooting model for the Borg Cube, as seen on Star Trek
* A chance to ride through a Star Trek adventure in a full-motion flight simulator (extra fee)
* And lots, lots more!

My favorite part:

We encourage costumes but for the safety of you and our other guests and employees please abide by the following guidelines:
1. No masks.
2. Elaborate costuming may inhibit your ability to ride simulators.
3. No weapons. Phasers, shields or any other accessory that may be perceived as a safety concern in any galaxy by any species is prohibited and must be left in your space shuttles.

Maybe with some friends and a six pack, I'll just go sit in front of the place, to get a glimpse of the attendees.  ¶ 11:36 AM 0 comments