9/23

weekend haiku:

Pinky finger cramp
Fifteen-page application
Please give me a job.

Old lady squawking
She must have the squash I picked
Morning Chinatown.

Very determined
Runaway tilapia
Everyone make way.

To give you an idea just how well Disney Store employees are trained, I need only share this: I don't even like lithographs.

Hm. I see the problem with that statement. It's not that I dislike lithographs as a concept, I only meant I don't collect them. Never have. I supposed I've seen some nice lithographs that have caught my eye and that I must have liked. But I've never thought, I must have that lithograph. Yet the lithograph portfolio is what sold me the "Beauty and the Beast" DVD. Evil pre-sale sales tactics. I did manage to ignore the "If you spend $17 more you can get a $10 gift card, and we have some nice plush toys over on that wall." Nice try. Besides, Stitch is the scariest looking Disney plush since Quasimodo.

For the record, all I went in there for was "Lilo & Stitch." After spending four days with the Divas (and their copy) last week, I discovered that "He Mele no Lilo" makes me really happy.

Speaking of the Divas, their mom Katie gave me a strawberry pie last night. It was a beautiful, enormous pie. I ate three Costco-sized strawberries right off the top without making a visible dent. Then I put the box in the fridge, made some soup and took out my homework. I opened all my books, stirred the soup, went back in the fridge and took out the box. I cut myself a little piece of pie. I ate it. I cut myself another little piece of pie. My dad wandered into the kitchen and I hastily offered him some (cuz I knew where this was headed), but he declined. Ten minutes later I was still eating pie. My dad came back and cut himself a piece. I sipped my soup. I ate more pie. I hid the rest. Brother Mart found and finished it.

To give you some idea how well Anna Miller's makes strawberry pie, I need share only this: I like pie the way I like lithographs.

So it's been a painless Monday. I put a card in the mail, went to the bank, went to the mall. I took a long, long nap in the afternoon, starting at about 3 or something. When I woke up it was dark. Everyone else, who had apparently also just woken up, was talking about eating pasta. We went to Harpo's in Kapahulu, where the garlic bread, while not that good, is better than the foccacia. The food isn't that great, period. But it was fun and we were all in good moods, being refreshed from our three-hour naps. Also we were feeling festive because soon my parents are leaving for Vegas and after that Brother Mart leaves for his month-long trip to Beijing.

Other updates:

Eugene's Brother is sick. Thus begins the vicious K-School cycle: The kids sneeze/cough/spit/otherwise fling their bodily fluids at our faces, infecting us with whatever germs they're nurturing, and we get sick. (Or, actually, Eugene's Brother gets sick. Since I was a kid I've been blessed with hardy resistance, for the most part.) So he gets sick because nobody teaches their kids to cover their mouths and noses anymore, but he never gets the chance to recover because while you could take a sick day, someone would just sneeze/cough/spit/otherwise fling brand-new bodily fluids into his face so might as well just tough it out. Full-time teachers build up great resistance, my mom reports. But then, she was a full-time teacher before air-conditioned classrooms (e.g. germ ciculation systems) were common. Eugene's Brother should recover in time to go Christmas shopping with me.

My first exam is this Thursday.

I need a new computer. This isn't news or anything, I just thought I'd beat a dead horse. (Dead for now. Dead until my first meaningful paycheck.) This is how slow things move: Dictionary.com sends me a new word every day but because my decrepit computer is so sluggish, I write down the word, delete the message and look up the word later on in my actual dictionary.

Time to go study. Eugene's Brother already had his first exam (math) -- he got 100%. Can't have him think he's smarter than me or anything like that. Ta.

P.S. I read the funniest thing the other day. This was probably the finding of an old study, but I'm not too sure. I don't even remember where i read it. Paraphrased, relationships in which it is felt by both parties that the man is smarter than the woman are more likely to be successful than relationships in which the opposite is true. Dunno about those "less smart" women, but I'd be happy to let my superior intellect rule things like finances, delegation of housework, etc. Dumb + dumber may = bliss, but there's nothing so divine as being right all the time. Hee hee.