Tag Archives: humor

I am Obsessed with Bitmoji

I heard about this new app called Bitmoji from watching the “Today” show last week. It is genius. You make an avatar of yourself and then it creates a myriad of emojis (cartoons, really) with “you” in them. Some of them are so random and/or ridiculous I have actually laughed out loud (I am a dinosaur and refuse to LOL) while sending them. Such as this one I sent to a friend who texted that she had food poisoning:

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There is a good one of “me” sitting on a toilet too but a lady would not post that publicly. I have been trying to convince my friends to download it, because the cartoons are hysterical and to be honest, I just want to see what they look like in Bitmoji. So far, three of them have caved. And yes, they are now obsessed too.

In case you were wondering what I really look like.

In case you were wondering what I really look like.

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Autocorrect is Completely Inappropriate

I was trying to tell my friend about my blog today. I mentioned that I am keeping it anonymous because of the nature of my work. I also like that it is my creative outlet separate from my day job. Autocorrect managed to mangle an innocent text into this:

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While we are close, my friend Paul is my BFF’s fiance. My BFF is gay. His response:

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That Buddha, He Sure is Smart

If you can do something about it, do not worry.

If you cannot do something about it, do not worry.

                                                                    —Buddha

This quote comes in handy when my mind is wrangling things that cannot be changed/aren’t my desired outcome/are completely beyond my control. One of my new year’s resolutions (Chinese and otherwise) is to cut down on complaining at work (it’s hard–try it for yourselves!) or at the very least, avoid non-constructive complaining, i.e. try to come up with a solution, not just complain for the sake of complaining. Having said that, about two seconds after I announced my resolution to my colleague/friend N, I starting ranting about the ridiculousness of some recent office politics.

N: That’s not complaining, is it?

Me: No, it’s just me pointing out an objective fact.

N: (laughing) Just checking.

Oh, Buddha. Give me strength.

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I Love Hot Water

I'm S'well, thanks. How are You?

I’m S’well, thanks. How are you?

I am just full of love these days, apparently. But in all seriousness, I love hot water. I hate ice water: room temperature and higher only please. Even in high school, my friends would tease me about being an eighty year-old Asian lady when I would ask for hot water in restaurants. To be fair, it is pretty comical to see a seventeen year-old asking for a cup of hot water at TGI Fridays. (Hot water? Yes, hot water. Tea? No, just hot water please. Would you like lemon with that? No thanks, just hot water.) What can I say? I was raised with the idea that ice water is bad for digestion and I have sensitive gums. I swear I am not actually eighty.

I like to bring my own water to work, partly because I am too lazy busy to walk down the hall all day to get refills and partly in an effort to be environmentally conscious. I already feel quite guilty about using my fair share of non-latex gloves (mind out of the gutters…I work in a hospital) that probably take about a hundred years to degrade. Enter the S’well Bottle. Its website promised: “Drinks stay cold for 24 hours and hot for 12 without any condensation on the outside, ever.” I was intrigued, but skeptical. Plus, my inner FOB balked at the thought of paying $35.00 for a thermos. But they came in such pretty colors and textures (they have “Glitter” and “Shimmer” lines–I love sparkly things!) that I caved. I love my S’well Bottle! It really is awesome. I have actually burned my tongue at 4pm because it really does keep stuff f***ing hot for 12 hours, as promised. And they donate to various charities like the Unicef Tap Project, helping to provide clean drinking water to children in third-world countries. What’s not to love? I swear I do not work for them either, nor do I own their stock (but only because they are still privately-held, damn it), although the FOB in me would not refuse if they wanted to send me a gift bottle for my product-crush gushing. That’d be S’well :)

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I Love Trader Joe’s

I got carded last night while buying a chardonnay at Trader Joe’s. I’m not a wine drinker, but I’m having company and I’m serving fish so I basically picked one of the two white wines I’ve tasted and can remember the name of (Edna Valley, 2013 if you’re wondering). It’s probably a sign I’m well past the drinking age when my face lights up and I’m excitedly digging out my driver’s license. One perk of being an Oriental Lady is that we tend to appear younger than our stated ages but let’s just say that it is physiologically possible for me to have birthed a child who would be of legal drinking age today.  I’m not sure what the kids are drinking these days, but I would hope that if you did get your millennial hands on a fake ID, chardonnay would not be on the top of your list. Unless it’s cool because of that whole hipster irony clause. A few years ago, I was carded for buying dry cooking sherry and parmesan crisps (I know how to party). Again, I was flattered and giddy, but also thinking…seriously?!

Anyhow, thank you Trader Joe’s cashier lady, you made my night! Did I mention I love Trader Joe’s? Great prices, huge selection of (sometimes odd but always interesting) items and carding? I swear I don’t work for them, but I would buy their stock in a hot minute if they weren’t a privately held company. Yes, I actually looked into it :)

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I Love Ansel Elgort

Matt Lauer just interviewed Ansel Elgort on the “Today” show. He is adorable and I have a mini-crush on him, even though I am old enough that it would be way more appropriate to have a crush on Matt Lauer. I am not ashamed. If you haven’t seen him as Augustus Waters in “The Fault in Our Stars,” you should indulge your inner teen and do so (I am a physician, so I watched it as research on cancer patients. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.) I recently found out he is the son of Arthur Elgort, the famed fashion photographer. I stared at his photos in Vogue as a teenager, daydreaming about how cool it would be to be a model (bummer that there were no high-fashion Asian models back then and I also stopped growing at 5’7″. Again, that is my story and I’m sticking to it. I wanted to be a model so Simon Le Bon of Duran Duran might want to date me.) In summary, if you read this, Ansel Elgort: you are the cutest thing ever.

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Out of This World

I wonder if E.T. ever got his green card.

I wonder if E.T. ever got his green card.

When I was eleven, I found my grandma’s green card sitting on her dresser. It looked like a driver’s license except it said “Resident Alien” across the top. I ran excitedly to my parents, half-intrigued, half-freaked out: was I actually 3/4 Chinese and 1/4 extraterrestrial? They had a good laugh. In her late eighties, my grandma actually became a US citizen. She told my dad that she wanted to be a citizen of the country that had welcomed her as a grieving 64 year-old widow. If you are over 55 and have lived in the US for over 15 years, you can take the Naturalization test in your native tongue with a translator. One night, I overheard my grandma reviewing her study materials. She kept repeating “Bill Kuh-Linton” and “San Quai Man Tou” (my dad had taught her to say “three pieces of steamed buns” –which sounds remarkably similar to “Sacramento”– in response to “What is the state capital of California?”). It was one of the most touching things I have ever seen.

This weekend, I was talking to my new friend, O, and discovered he does not have a green card. He has lived in this country for almost 20 years, attended college here, works here, contributes to taxes and his community here. I was shocked. The average Chinese waiter’s 2nd cousin thrice-removed who doesn’t speak English has a green card. Apparently, it is more difficult when you come from a European country and don’t have an extended family or job that will agree to be your sponsor. Curious about this process that has allowed me to be a US citizen (I was born here, but my parents emigrated as students in the 1960s), I looked up the government website. And I found this little gem above. An Alien with Extraordinary Abilities? Like if you have frickin’ laser beams shooting out of your head? I don’t know about these criteria. Obama, I think we need some revisions here.

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Best Medicine

Lost in Translation?

Lost in Translation?

This reminds me of the clothes my relatives used to send me from Taiwan when I was in grade school. My mother didn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to wear perfectly nice tees with pictures of cute animals. That were also emblazoned with pithy sayings such as “Love Me Beautiful Dog Friend” or “Tea Time is Nice for Rainbow Day.” This was way before hipster irony would make these even remotely cool.

Happy Friday! Or for fellow working-through-the-weekenders, Happy Hump Day!

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Not for the Faint of Heart

Yes, this is a real sign.

Yes, this is a real sign.

Yesterday, I found myself driving in the crowded parking lot of an Asian (not so) mini-mall. On Saturday night. There should be signs clearly stating: “ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.” It was every person for themselves while looking for a parking space and trying to dodge pedestrians crossing willy-nilly. There was an Asian woman in a white sedan who kept making last-minute changes in the direction she was turning: left, no, right, no, left, while waving a hand and mouthing “Sorry!” Okay, that might have been me. Regardless, as I turned back onto the main road, unscathed, I felt a sense of accomplishment. It occurred to me right then that this would make for a good video game. Like Frogger but more PETA-friendly, if a little politically incorrect. I’m just sayin’.

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Tough Crowd

I recently taught my septugenarian parents how to text. I was ambivalent, but it has turned out to be great fun.  My father doesn’t quite get the concept, he tends to text long letters that start with “Dearest B,” and sign them at the end (umm, I know it’s from you, Dad!) but my mom has really taken to it. It’s been a win-win, because she feels hip and we have a way to keep in touch even when I am working a lot and have zero desire to talk on the phone. A recent gem:

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Bradley Cooper should be thankful my mom is not an Academy member.

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