Guitar Hack

Note to self:

When you play guitar, please remember to take off your VivoFit. After a mere half hour of strumming, you will have gained your necessary 10,000 steps from the rapid, nonstop up and down motion of your hand. So it may look like you were really active when in reality all you have done today is sit in front of your computer, eat and then play guitar for a little bit. You probably didn’t even walk 1,000 steps in the 8 hours that you have been awake (which is it’s own sad little problem we will evaluate later). But your VivoFit thinks you were super active today. And for some reason, you feel strangely guilty. Like you are lying. To a machine. And we all know the machines are going to rise up against us one day. So you need to stay on their good side. (But be sure remember this trick for when you need to impress your half marathon running brother that you are seeing next week.)

Putting the Fuse in Confused,



What I Did on St. Patrick’s Day this Year

  • Planned a Happy Hour
  • Canceled a Happy Hour
  • Met a Friend of a Friend
  • Ended up driving to a bar 45 minutes away
  • Met Friends of the cousin of the Friend of a Friend 
  • New friends included people from Barcelona, Germany and Norway
  • Ate French Fries
  • Found out friends at table did not actually order any French Fries
  • Got judged by the waitress
  • Continued to eat French fries regardless
  • Asked for Green Beer but was denied
  • But then got free Champagne from the bartender
  • Exchanged Instagrams
  • Drove for an addition 10 minutes to German guy’s friend’s apartment
  • Compared male and female anatomy in the car
  • Was promised a roof-top hang out
  • Did not actually get to go the roof top but got a cider so was okay with it
  • Met up again with friends from Barcelona and Norway
  • Was given a slice of pizza that Barcelona kids bought on the way over
  • Talked Philosophy and Indian weddings simultaneously
  • Compared school systems in different countries
  • Did a round of tequila shots while saying “Cheers!” in three different languages
  • Realized the time a little too late
  • Took the metro in the wrong direction for 3 stops
  • Felt terrible
  • Went in the right direction the second time around
  • Finally go home after midnight
  • Had a dream about going out on St. Patrick’s Day
Overall, not a shabby way to spend a Thursday night.

Text Blasting

I am 100% guilty of what I have started to call text blasting and I am hoping that I am not the only one. I have never been one of those people with lots of friends, not that I am completely friendless but I am not one of those people that leave their phone at home accidently and come back an hour later to find 20 text messages. The thing about text messages, at least for me, is that they are little bits of instant gratification. Even if it’s just friend asking if I want to get coffee this weekend or furthermore just my mom asking if I got to work safely, I get this tiny little warm feeling in my heart, which sounds absolutely lame but whatever.

I don’t know for sure why this happens but it does. Now, something that I really like about myself is that I am not attached to my electronic devices. Sure I am obsessive about other things in my life like always having the materials to make cupcakes in my pantry or never putting a book down in the middle of a chapter but I am infamous for missing phone calls because I left my phone is a completely different room of the house I am hanging out it. A lot of the people I hang out with are like that actually. But most of these people, my brother included, will come back and see that they have several text messages while if I’m lucky, I might get a butt dial from my grandfather followed up with a 5 minute long voicemail from inside his pocket. Not I know I sound like a hypocrite, and that’s because I 100% am. I criticize those who are too attached to their phones and am jealous of them at the same time. So what do I do instead that is totally embarrassing and really sad. I text blast. I am actually cringing at myself as I write this.

What I do is, I will text as many people as I can about trivial things at the same time. Parents, friends, coworkers, no one is safe. Sometimes it’s reasonable like “Haven’t heard from you in a while, how are you?” or “Just wanted to say hi! How are classes going?” more often though it’s a white lie “Hey, I don’t remember, are we getting dinner Wed or Thurs?” even though the date is circled on my calendar. Mostly, it’s just a meme or picture of an animal wearing human clothes that I found on Instagram with basically no purpose at all. I will send these text messages all in a row and then turn my phone upside down and walk away for a little. When I come back there will be a list of text messages waiting for me and my heart swells with happiness. I know, this is absolutely convoluted and incredibly stupid and I don’t know why I do this. Also to clarify, this isn’t a daily or weekly thing! This is a once every 2 or 3 months sort of thing (not that it makes it any better but still). The feeling I get is like when I go on a diet. I will do really well for weeks, eating veggies and exercising more but then it will be that one Saturday where instead of going to the gym, I give in and eat an entire pizza by myself. I won’t text blast for almost a month and then I can’t help myself. In the moment, it feels so awesome but later on I will ask myself “was that really necessary”. I feel like I need to go to group therapy about this. Not that it’s a serious enough problem but I would like to know that I’m not the only one out there like this. Do other people do this? Is it just me? Should I just sit in the corner all by my weird and creepy self?

Yes? Okay

Putting the Fuse in Confused,


Another List of Happy

  • Really Shiny Crisp Red Apples
  • Tiny Animals in Tiny Clothing
  • That weird phase where it’s sunny and raining at the same time
  • The first sip of coffee in the morning
  • Little kids who can’t pronounce S’s
  • People who pay for other people’s meals at restaurants S
  • pace Heaters and Electric Blankets
  • Getting flowers just because
  • Burning Christmas Candles in the summer
  • Cookies so fresh out of the oven, they literally melt in your mouth
  • Watching a Disney movie you haven’t seen in years and still knowing all of the songs

The Time I Rode Home in a Police Car

I have, once in my life, been taken home in a police car. And no, this will not be as story I one day tell my kids…. because it’s super lame. It happened my first time going out during my first year of college. And it wasn’t because I was drunk, or doing drugs or because I was being belligerent or even because I was remotely associated with any of these things. It was because I was a n00b. I was free and living through my first year away from home but not in the way I should have. I was doing freshman year very wrong. I was not trying to make any new friends (which was beyond silly because I basically had zero friends at that time of my life), I didn’t want to try new things and I basically wanted to hang by myself all the time. So when I hear that one of my favorite country bands was coming to our school and student tickets were only $20 I bought one immediately only to discover… I had no one to go with. In addition to that, the concert was during my birthday weekend. That’s right. I was going to spend my first birthday at college going to a concert all by myself.

Also, the concert area was technically still on ground but was about an hour walk or a 30 min bus ride away. But I was determined, I mean I had already picked out my outfit. I wore my one and only, considerably too small, plaid shirt, complete with lace running up and down it, my little bit too long denim shorts and my fake cowboy boots that I had gotten from the 10-13 girls section at Payless (and if you already think the image forming in your head is really weird, just a little reminder that I am a small Asian girl. So to say the least, I stood out). I got on that bus and because I get lost super easily I left way earlier than I needed to, resulting in my showing up an hour too early, and I mean, an hour to early for the opening act. I found my seat and watching all of the other groups of girls talking and having a good time with each other all around me. I pretended to text people on my phone for a bit until the people sitting next to me arrived. Two much younger girls, maybe 15 but more likely 13. The first thing I hear one of them say was ” Look at all these stupid college girls. Don’t they know that wearing cowboy boots and jean shorts make you look like a slut?”  I slipped my feet further under my seat. “Where is your group?” The other one asked me. “Just me,” I replied cheerfully with a smile. “Really?”  “Yeah, I really love this band and didn’t want to miss it just because none of my friends really wanted to go.” The girls looked at each other and then both gave me the same look of pity. “Well, if you need to pee, just let us know and we will move out of your way darling.” Yes, this 13-15 year old girl just called me darling because she felt sorry for me.

On the plus side, The band was awesome. I didn’t even care about anyone else after they opened with one of my favorite songs. The 2 and a half hours flew by. At one point, me and the little girls sang shouted lyrics and each other and danced. I had a great time. I left the arena floating on air and waited at the bus stop to take me back to my dorm. 10 minutes passed, then 20, then 40  and more than a hour and no bus. I started to panic. It was dark and tall drunk guys kept passing me. I called the one suitemate’s number I had in desperation only to have it cut out after my first sentence because my phone died from all of the pretend texting I had done earlier. My panic had reached maximum. I saw blue and red lights in the distance and raced for them. A lady cop was leaning on the hood of her car, looking unimpressed. “Excuse me.” I squeaked.”Yes.” “When will the next bus come?” She looked flabergasted.”The bus? You waiting for the bus?” I felt a drop of sweat actually slip down my face. “…Um, yes?” She shakes her head. “Sweetie, the buses skip this stop after concerts. Too many people, it gets complicated. Didn’t you know that?” “Oh.” was all I could manage. She looked me up and down. “First year?” she asked. “How could you tell?” I asked trying to be funny. She didn’t laugh. But she did put a hand on my shoulder and for some reason, all suddenly I could see was her gun. “Get in the car, sweetie. I’ll take you home.” So there I was. Sitting the back of a police cruiser headed to my first year dorm during my third week of college.  She let me out right in front and passerbyers looked on curiously. But upon seeing I wasn’t intoxicated quickly lost interested. I walked into my dorm suit feeling really ashamed and embarrassed when suddenly the suitemate I had called ran in right after with a few of my other roommates looking alarmed. “You are back! Are you okay?!” I was able to tell my story and somehow found it funnily enough to laugh with them. They best thing about that story. That very girl who I called? I lived with her all 4 years of college and she is still one of my best friends today. So yes, I was taken home in  a cop car my first year of university, but I also have a true friend who I met my first year of university and 2 valuable lessons under my belt. One, don’t be afraid to step outside of your comfort zone. Two, always look up bus schedules before you go anywhere.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,



Leap years are supposed to be a gift. You get an entire extra day in the year to do whatever you please (according to the Mayans) so you should cherish it and live your life to the fullest. Some people actually take the day off of work. Others see it as an opportunity do activities that they normally wouldn’t or to get around to all those unfinished tasks they forgot about. That’s the point right? To use the extra time wisely and not just waste it away. So what did I do on my leap day? I forgot my wallet at home, had to turn around and then showed up 20 minutes late to work. Close enough.

Putting the Fuse in Confused,