Sunday, October 29, 2006

A Weekend as a Blonde.

I love Halloween, and everything about costumes and disguise. However, I'm amazingly lazy and a gigantic procrastinator. Therefore, sadly, I've never had a fantastic original costume.

This year, I was even less motivated because I was not planning on going to a costume party. I decided that I would buy a great wig, and I would go out to Hollywood and that would be enough. It really was. I had never had such a response in my life. Just the color of your hair can change the way people act towards you, and this weekend was a truly fascinating testimony to that theory. I observed the people's behavior in almost an empirical fashion while taking shots and eating olives. (I tend to steal olives from the bar. Sometimes I ask for them. Most of the time, I steal them. )

From the moment I got off the car, I got stares and cat calls. This is not me just talking out of my ass. My companion Peter was equally amazed at all the commotion. I got hit on about 200% more than usual. I got offered drinks a lot more than usual. People asked my name and my number left and right. I had a fake number and name ready. I'm sorry for the person whose number is actually 867-5309, but I am even more sorry for the guys that do not realize the fame of that number. ( It's part of a song, by the way, for you non-80's fan. )

They say blondes have more fun. I think people let blondes have more fun. They approach them more light-heartedly. They ask more fun (and dumb) questions. They feel you take more risks because you let peroxide take over your head. They believe all the ridiculous crap that falls out of your mouth. You know, they eat it all up. It's so easy to trick people when they're not paying attention to your intelligence.

Anyway, if you met a Jenny with the number 867-5309, you've been punked. (I'm kidding. I was not sly enough to say that my name was Jenny. My name was Mia. Mia Lee.)

I liked being a blonde. I think I'm too lazy to keep up with it, though. That's what Halloween is for, and even more so, that's what wigs are for.

Here are some snaps:

For more of The Wig, go to Facebook.


Thursday, October 26, 2006

Metro Stories

About once a month, I encounter some abnormal behaviors on the Metro.

First comes the Flasher with the Afro
I was sitting across from this huge black guy with a bigger afro, which was kept under a fishing hat. The hat's top was missing, so the bush was standing high. He seemed nonchalant. Then, he spread his legs, and held out his penis out of his basketball shorts. The other people sitting next to me were all women, and we were a bit stunned. I couldn't take it so I moved to another seat. He turned out to be a homeless man that kept riding the train. Once we reached the final stop on the line, he got out and went across the track to the train that was leaving to go the opposite direction. Freak.

Then comes The Phantom of Heavy Metal
This guy wasn't very threatening. He didn't attack anyone nor did he show anyone anything one would not want to see. His only offense was singing out loud at 8AM in the morning, and "singing" along to death metal, no less. His exact lyrics were, "Fuck mankind, Fuck my kind, Fuck all man, FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!" He had gloves on (in August) with skeleton hands printed on them. Actually, his other offense was taking up more than one seat by putting his feet up. In the end, I think that bothered me more than the alleged singing.

Then today.

Stalker with the Bible
People making small talk on the train is not so unusual, but sometimes you meet rather "special" individuals. Today, on my way home I was reading my book, when a guy around my age came up to me and started chatting about nothing. I got the sense that he was hitting on me, so I dismissed the whole thing as trivial and nothing to be concerned about. I noticed that the only thing he was holding was the Bible, but again, not threatening. I got off the subway and briskly walked toward the next train, when I noticed that the same guy was walking right behind me. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that he must be going on the same train. However, I was also weirded out so I sped up. He sped up too. I ran up the three flights of stairs and he was on my tail. Eventually, the guy was literally running after me. I got scared so I ran even faster towards the train and finally got on and sat next to someone so he couldn't sit next to me. But, he sat directly behind me. I slightly felt his breath on my neck, and got even more freaked out. I called my friend Naoko and explained the whole thing to her in Japanese. For a moment, because of his Bible, I feared he might be Mormon, and might have gone to Japan for his mission, and therefore would know all the shit I was saying about him. However, I grew up with a lot of Mormons and I was pretty sure he was not holding the Book of Mormon, and for the most part, they're not threatening. After hearing my situation, Naoko suggested that I get off the next station, and catch the next train that comes, as to not reveal my actual location of my hometown to this freak. I did just that, and he didn't follow me, so this story ends with relief.

Naoko asked if it was a possibility that he just wanted to talk about God to me because I looked like a Believer. I doubt it, because if he was, then that was the worst way possible to spread the word of Jesus. It can almost act as aversion therapy. I do not approve.

Not all Metro People are stalkers and flashers. One of the subway conductors greets us through the intercom like this, "Goooooood Morning, good morning, GOOD MORNING!! It's a beautiful day, it's a beautiful Monday. Please don't run in the station because you will fall, and now, why would you want to do that to yourselves? Take care of yourselves. Life is beautiful. Today is a beautiful day." He makes me laugh because I feel like I'm hearing someone from Sesame Streets on the dirty old subway.

That's all that has happened to me in the last 3 months that I've been taking the Metro. We'll see what happends in the next 3 months.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Just for fun...


Kanye West? Just because I got fat lips, they gotta make me into a black man... Stereotypes!! Brandy and that Charmed girl are sad comparisons though. I feel bad that they were picked to fit my fat lip face.

Today's blog was brought to you by the special features on my webcam.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Totally Clueless

I recently watched "Clueless" for the first time in several years. When I saw that movie for the first time (more than 10 years ago.. GASP), I loved it because I thought that was how fun high school was going to be like. I didn't understand most of the jokes, and references, or how socially important it was. I just had NO CLUE.

People have told me before that I know a lot of information, but that is because I used to be the most naive fuckin bonehead this side of the Mississippi. I'm not kidding. I didn't know any early pop references. New Kids on the Block, Ace of Base, all those things flew past my head. I didn't know what pot was. I had never even seen or smelled it until college. (That quickly changed after going to the most Reefer Madness college in this country.) Sex? Fuhgetaboutit. Well, when this movie came out, I was only 11-12, so it's not completely strange that I didn't get a lot of it. But let me tell you the things that I found out after watching it in my twenties.

First of all, Travis.
Ok, I did NOT know that his name was Travis BIRKENSTOCKS. Are you kidding me with this? And when he donates his box of shit to that flood drive, I had no idea those things were bongs. For at least a good 8 years, I thought he had donated a twisted pepper grinder and a honey bear bottle with a gigantic belly button.

Gay was not in my vocabulary, nor knowledge, so the character Christian was just a weirdo to me.

What undergrad college kid gets to help out on a multi-million dollar lawsuit? And, how tight were his pants? Especially when he kisses Cher.

The word Crimson Tide.
I did not understand why Cher was late to class that one day. Little did I know that the Crimson Tide would curse me as well.

I understood the extravagant life style and how it's not really real, so nothing new with most of the girls, except the transformation of Brittany Murphy. And how little transformation Donald Faison went through from Murray to Turk on "Scrubs". I love him, though.

What a great movie. It gives me nostalgia about my clueless-ness and the generation that I grew up with.

I leave you with a quote that best reflects my opinion about refugees and immigration:

"So like, right now for example, the Hatians need to come to America. But some people are all, 'What about the strain on our resources?' Well it's like when I had this garden party for my father's birthday, right? I put R.S.V.P. 'cause it was a sit-down dinner. But some people came that like did not R.S.V.P. I was like totally buggin'. I had to haul ass to the kitchen, redistribute the food, and squish in extra place settings. But by the end of the day it was, like, the more the merrier. And so if the government could just get to the kitchen, rearrange some things, we could certainly party with the Hatians. And in conclusion may I please remind you it does not say R.S.V.P. on the Statue of Liberty. Thank you very much. "

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

MJ is a woman.

Michael Jackson dressed up as a woman.

Wow. But Wow, as in I-could-kind-of-see-that Wow.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006


The Halloween Season is upon us, so I will start my story today with the next sentence:

It is my understanding that my life was once saved by a ghost.

I used to have a very dangerous habit of lighting candles before going to bed and a very wasteful habit of leaving my DVD player on so I would fall asleep watching a movie. I usually never intended on either of those things happening, but one night, it did. I was watching "You've Got Mail" and lit some orchid candles in my single room, junior year of college. Sure enough, I fell asleep, and the candle light was still dancing in the night. (That was poetic.)
Suddenly, I heard a noise, and I woke up, just fast enough to see a dark figure rush out the door, and CLOSING it. My candle was blown out, with smoke still rising from it. Must be the wind, I thought, and checked the window. Nope. Windows closed. Must be one of my suitemates, I decided, and I went back to bed. That semester, I lived in the same suite with a wild pack of big burly lesbians, a semi-nudist, and a hippie and her 30 year boyfriend. It wouldn't have surprised me if one of them had snuck into my room to blow out my candles, because that's what lesbians, nudists, and hippies do. They take care of one another. I felt relieved and thankful for not having burned down the entire building.

The next morning, I asked my colorful suitemates if any of them had came into my room that night, and all of them said no. I was confused and started thinking about how maybe the candle just went out. However, I was positive that I had seen a something go out the door, and I KNEW that the door closed. What else could it have been, but a ghost? I decided that it was indeed a visit from the supernatural that had potentially saved my life. In my head, I imagine it as a Casper-type ghost, who just flies around to find something to do. I know these encounters are rare, so I now never light candles at night if I'm alone, because I probably won't meet such a generous ghost again.

This was a light-hearted story, but does not go with the true spirit of Halloween. I leave you with her to give you what this month is supposed to be about.

So children, be good, lest this woman haunt you for your wrong-doings! (Cue thunder bolt crash. MUAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA)

I spent last Halloween in mass at a gigantic cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, or as my friend Janet called it, "a huge Catholic orgasm." What will I do this year....?

Monday, October 02, 2006

NASTY (lookin) FOOD

I am a HUGE ( and I mean gigantic, magnanimous, ridonkulous) affectionato of culinary arts. Whenever I talk about food, I advertise about how appetizing something could be. Today, I am going the exact OPPOSITE direction, because I went to the LA County Fair, a place where only the words Fat, Fried, and Deep-Fried exist when it comes to food.

First up, we have a plate of Deep-Fried Oreos. My friends thought they were good. I thought it tasted like soggy Oreos soaked in oil.

Next, the typical fair food: Giant Turkey Leg and Aussie Battered Potatoes. The potatoes were actually delicious.
Next, a rabbit on a cake that looked like a pile of poop.
And last, but not the least disgusting, a Crispy Creme Chicken Sandwich. That is a glazed Crispy Creme doughnut sandwiching a fried chicken patty with Swiss cheese. It takes like what it looks like. Chicken and donuts.
I (accidentally) flung that shit on the ground when it was my turn to take a bite, because even starving children in Namibia would not eat that off of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's hands.

And just for fun, here's a question: what would Naoko and I look like if we had red bobs? Answer: cartoon characters. ( Especially Naoko.)

The End