After a long period of exceptional laziness when I basically lived out the life of a hibernating bear, when the most productive thing I did in the span of an entire day was chew some food... I finally decided to not further waste away my life, and actually DO something. So earth-shattering it's shocking.
My best bet? Put the piece of paper I got from my university to good use... by that I mean turn it over and brainstorm on the backside... OR use it to apply for a job. Hard choice, but I was pressured into the latter. Indeed, four years of studying is not a total waste after all! It got me an interview at a private lab company!
Interviews are disgusting. I despise them. It's all about pretenses and facades, all to try to sell yourself. I suppose it's a necessary evil... like government... but still, I hate it. Nevertheless, I donned a fresh suit, crisp shirt, put on my lady heels, did my hair nice, painted my face, and hobbled to the office.... all in the hopes that my first impression would be a hire-me impression. I tried to sound competent, I nodded a lot, furrowed my eyebrows as if his words were the most innovative thing I've heard in all my life. To much my surprise, it worked. Who knew?! I should flatter myself and say that I was hired due to my overwhelmingly qualified abilities and exceptional charm. But, I know better than to think that... I was hired because lab rats are easy to train, and I am a trained lab rat. :)
I'm excited to do something new, to be productive, and to learn. I'm excited to contribute something, even if it's to some bigger corporate company where my existence equals that of plankton. I'm excited to meet new people, and learn new gossips.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Elizabeth Tailor
I have two older sisters, and the greatest tragedy we three see in our relationship is the terrible fact that we each are a different size. Even in shoes! In an ideal situation, three sisters should be able to triple each others' closet size... naturally. Not so much. My oldest sister is most womanly, my middle sister used to be no bigger than my pinkie, and I'm somewhere in the middle. Such a tragedy indeed.
Anyhow, I had helped my oldest sister clean out her closet. In the process, I managed to get her to admit her addiction with shopping and her high affinity for pants. (The first step is admitting the problem, right?) I also managed, to my great surprise & hers, to find some of her old pants that were actually decent on me! It looked like it only needed to be taken in some at the waist. They were too nice to be thrown out, but too small for her to ever fit again. We figured that it would make much more sense for me to get them altered, then if I went out and bought new pants... as I'd probably have to get those altered as well. Oh the woes of being a girl... blech.
We got to the tailor with my bag of pants... she was a friend of my sister, and supposedly super talented. We gossiped on the way there, and my sister warned me that Elizabeth, the tailor, was very tiny. In her own words, she said Elizabeth was only slightly bigger than my 6 year old niece.... a gross exaggeration, but it made us laugh like hyenas in the car.
When we got in the shop, the front desk was empty, so we just waited. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spied a figure emerging from a room... and I was sure my eyes bugged out of my head. It was a guttural reaction... at meeting someone so small. At most she could be 4'7... give or take an inch. She's also nearing 50, minus one or two years. Her body certainly doesn't show her age, and her face is very beautiful. She carried her long black hair with great pride, you can tell... from the way she swished them about.
As I stood there to be pinned and tucked, I thought: here was a woman who greatly valued youth. Her height, or lack thereof, had actually become an asset. She couldn't change what genes she inherited, so she embraced them and made the best of the situation. Her face was taut. Her hair was long and shiny. Aside from genetics, what really convinced me of her devotion to youth was the way she dressed. She glided about almost weightlessly in what I imagine can be girl's jeans, folded up at the hem line. She wore a bubble gum pink & white striped thin sweater, which is not unlike one of the shirts I've bought for my niece. In the dead of winter, she had simply flip flops on her feet... with some socks. I'm positive that a stranger who saw Elizabeth from the back would no doubt mistaken her for a 13 year old girl. The kicker is not how young Elizabeth could pass for; the true kicker is that Elizabeth gets a kick out of such situation!
I think she's one of the few Asian people I know whose age has not catch up with her youth. I think in her old age, she will still be mistaken for a young girl, if not by her natural looks then by the way she presents herself. That's something to be proud of, I suppose. Women all over the world want to keep their youth as long as possible. We slather stuff on our faces, pop pills, inject toxins in the lines, pump our lips with butt fat, spackle on the make-up... all in the hopes of stemming the aging process. Who doesn't want to look younger?! Seriously!
At 23, I don't have many woes of aging... just yet. I do play with makeup & what not because it makes me feel pretty. But I can't help but see an incongruity in Elizabeth... a 40-something woman who could pass for a teen. Somehow that doesn't seem all that glamorous to me. When I'm 40-something, I would consider it a compliment when someone tells me I look great... maybe I'd blush when they think I'm a few years younger than I actually am. I think I would actually turn tomato red and be completely mortified if at that age, someone stops me in the store and asks me if I'm allowed to be there without my parents. Youth is awesome. But being carded past a certain age is just ridiculous. But that's just me.
I get my pants back in a few weeks. I hope they fit.
Anyhow, I had helped my oldest sister clean out her closet. In the process, I managed to get her to admit her addiction with shopping and her high affinity for pants. (The first step is admitting the problem, right?) I also managed, to my great surprise & hers, to find some of her old pants that were actually decent on me! It looked like it only needed to be taken in some at the waist. They were too nice to be thrown out, but too small for her to ever fit again. We figured that it would make much more sense for me to get them altered, then if I went out and bought new pants... as I'd probably have to get those altered as well. Oh the woes of being a girl... blech.
We got to the tailor with my bag of pants... she was a friend of my sister, and supposedly super talented. We gossiped on the way there, and my sister warned me that Elizabeth, the tailor, was very tiny. In her own words, she said Elizabeth was only slightly bigger than my 6 year old niece.... a gross exaggeration, but it made us laugh like hyenas in the car.
When we got in the shop, the front desk was empty, so we just waited. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spied a figure emerging from a room... and I was sure my eyes bugged out of my head. It was a guttural reaction... at meeting someone so small. At most she could be 4'7... give or take an inch. She's also nearing 50, minus one or two years. Her body certainly doesn't show her age, and her face is very beautiful. She carried her long black hair with great pride, you can tell... from the way she swished them about.
As I stood there to be pinned and tucked, I thought: here was a woman who greatly valued youth. Her height, or lack thereof, had actually become an asset. She couldn't change what genes she inherited, so she embraced them and made the best of the situation. Her face was taut. Her hair was long and shiny. Aside from genetics, what really convinced me of her devotion to youth was the way she dressed. She glided about almost weightlessly in what I imagine can be girl's jeans, folded up at the hem line. She wore a bubble gum pink & white striped thin sweater, which is not unlike one of the shirts I've bought for my niece. In the dead of winter, she had simply flip flops on her feet... with some socks. I'm positive that a stranger who saw Elizabeth from the back would no doubt mistaken her for a 13 year old girl. The kicker is not how young Elizabeth could pass for; the true kicker is that Elizabeth gets a kick out of such situation!
I think she's one of the few Asian people I know whose age has not catch up with her youth. I think in her old age, she will still be mistaken for a young girl, if not by her natural looks then by the way she presents herself. That's something to be proud of, I suppose. Women all over the world want to keep their youth as long as possible. We slather stuff on our faces, pop pills, inject toxins in the lines, pump our lips with butt fat, spackle on the make-up... all in the hopes of stemming the aging process. Who doesn't want to look younger?! Seriously!
At 23, I don't have many woes of aging... just yet. I do play with makeup & what not because it makes me feel pretty. But I can't help but see an incongruity in Elizabeth... a 40-something woman who could pass for a teen. Somehow that doesn't seem all that glamorous to me. When I'm 40-something, I would consider it a compliment when someone tells me I look great... maybe I'd blush when they think I'm a few years younger than I actually am. I think I would actually turn tomato red and be completely mortified if at that age, someone stops me in the store and asks me if I'm allowed to be there without my parents. Youth is awesome. But being carded past a certain age is just ridiculous. But that's just me.
I get my pants back in a few weeks. I hope they fit.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
All that is gold does not glitter
- All that is gold does not glitter,
- Not all those who wander are lost;
- The old that is strong does not wither,
- Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
- From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
- A light from the shadows shall spring;
- Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
- The crownless again shall be king. -- J.R.R.Tolkien
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