Category Archives: everyday kimli

bite the wax tadpole

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It’s dark in the car, but I don’t want to turn on a light. I don’t want to be seen. I’m hunched over in the passenger seat, trying to be as still as possible while going 120km/h – I have to be careful, or I’ll spill. Precision is the name of the game, and while my tiny elf fingers aren’t exactly known for their grace and nimblility, I steady the plate as best I can in one hand while gently working the baggie open with the other. Carefully, carefully I pour the contents out onto the flat surface and it lazily twinkles back at me; shimmering softly under the streetlights and calling to me with a knowing wink. I feel momentarily guilty, but I shake it off – my need is greater than any regrets, and I’m not hurting anyone. It’s a free country, they say. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

I hold my breath for the next step. A deep breath could send everything flying, and that would be very, very bad. I bite my lip in anticipation as I line everything up in neat rows; not exhaling until I see stars and my heart is pounding. Do I need oxygen, or the rush? I can’t tell.

Last step. One final check. Everything is ready. There’s no turning back, even if I wanted to .. which I don’t. I’ll never want to turn back.

I pick up the tray and push it home with a satisfying click. My phone comes back to life; illuminating my face in the dark of the car. I drum my fingers impatiently on my thigh as I wait for it to kick in – there. A signal. Weak at first, but grows stronger as the triumph courses through my veins. Once again, I’ve successfully changed the nano SIM for my iPhone 5, switching from my Canadian carrier to an American one and vice versa. I was without data for less than 10 minutes in total, but it felt like a million years of isolation and despair. Now that I’m connected, the world is a better place. Shinier, more friendly. Things taste better. People are more attractive. And if they’re not, I can google up some people who are. I feel like myself again, but I know that it’s temporary – all too soon, I’ll have to do everything over again; a shameful secret that keeps me hidden in the shadows until the new carrier kicks in. Don’t look at me until I have the world at my fingertips. And for god’s sake, don’t fucking sneeze.

doesn’t belong in the ear

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As I tossed and turned my way through yet another sleepless night, worried that someone had replaced my ear drops with poison in an attempt to murder me Hamlet style, I realized that I may in fact be getting sick. That is unfortunate, even without the ear poison. I’ve managed to avoid the plagues and viruses that have ensnared most of my social circle for the past few months (the one good thing about most of our interactions taking place online), but I think this latest and greatest disease may have me in a clammy grip of distorted vision, non-stop headaches, and general aching. Normally I’d start whining that I really don’t have time for this, but let’s be honest: there isn’t a hell of a lot going on in my life right now other than catastrophic disappointment and failure, so a cold might be a welcome change.

How are things? Frankly, things have been much, much better. I’m trying to keep my chin up (mostly so I don’t walk into doors), but it’s difficult. There’s so much I want to scream and shout about, but I can’t probably shouldn’t, so instead I am vague and frustrating and frustrated and constipated from all this angst I have going on. I am trying very hard not to know that this Wednesday will mark 8 years since my dad’s mysterious death, that this time last year I was four days away from two weeks in London, that I am both yearning for and afraid of success, that I desperately want to bite off more than I can chew but no one will throw me a bone. I miss Sasha. I miss London. I miss video games. I miss sleep. I miss perks.

Things will get better one way or another, but when I’m already not feeling very well it’s so easy to wallow instead of being upbeat and chipper. So, I’m going to embrace it: today, I am sad and discouraged and hopeless. Tomorrow, I will be better. Things will change. Stuff will be good. We shall overcome.

Also, owning these would help me get over this little pity party I’m having today:

i likely won't be able to walk, but godDAMN i will look awesome

i likely won’t be able to walk, but godDAMN i will look awesome

You can tell I am super sad, because I am looking at shoes.

tick tick tick boom

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Five years ago today (and many more times since then but I’m only speaking to this particular instance), I was on my back with my legs in the air while a stranger fiddled around with my insides; preparing my womb for the installation of a time-sensitive Doomsday Device: the Mirena IUD. This Weapon of Sperm Destruction has been quietly working away all up in my business, blasting foolhardy sperm into oblivion and protecting my carefree, pointless existence from the ongoing threat of responsibility and purpose. Go ahead and splash my cervix with the most potent of your man juices: I laugh at your ejaculate! I sneer at your seminal fluid! Your mightiest warriors of procreation are no match for the chemical wasteland that is my uterus; all spermatozoa look on my works, be mighty, and despair!

Unfortunately, all wonderful things must come to an end: the Mirena has a 5-year lifecycle, and as of an hour or so ago, I am in immediate danger of pregnancy. Even as I type this, I am calmly dodging a steady stream of sperm coming from all directions, trying to take advantage of my vulnerable state. The joke’s on them, though: while the Mirena has a recommended lifespan of 5 years, it apparently will work just fine for up to seven years. I did a bunch of panicked research this morning when I realized my blinking red palm flower was about to go solid black; fully anticipating some sort of explosion followed by a swarm of babies, but .. nothing. I am safe.

You’ll never convince ME that having a foreign hostile object all up in my quivering velvet is a bad idea. IUD? More like IUDeeeeelightful!

Thanks, I’ll be here all week.

poison for profit

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I need Botox, because my face is highly problematic.

I’m not particularly worried about wrinkles or aging – I’m just enough Asian to look 30 until I’m 65, and wrinkles are caused by sun which is only outside – but I need to freeze my face into a neutral or happy expression, and Botox is the least harmful (as non-harmful as injecting neurotoxins into your skin can be) option I can think of, assuming that Joker “Smilex” drug from the first Michael Keaton Batman movie (except maybe without all the death) isn’t available for purchase.

In my head, I’m totally mysterious and aloof. Unfortunately, the opposite is my reality: I am an open book with diagrams and Cliff Notes and cheat codes and level walkthroughs and voiceover narration provided by Morgan Freeman in a pleasing baritone, and I need to change. I could work at it and exercise my face muscles and learn to be more aware of what I look like, but that sounds like a lot of work so clearly I should just poison myself with botulisms so I am nothing but a dopey grin at all times.

Apparently, every emotion I feel and every thought I think is visible on my face. If I’m getting internally stabby, those stabby thoughts are clearly reflected for all to see. If you are stupid and I wish you would stop talking, I am unconsciously playing a game of face charades. If I think something is hilarious, I’m surreptitiously (except not) leaking glitter and rainbows all over the place. It’s no good, and does me no favours whatsoever what with the absolute lack of mystique and glamour and all.

This problematic face of mine was brought to my attention several years ago during an employee review: I’m awesome, but when I’m upset I glare and roll my eyes at things like a petulant teenager. I had no idea I was doing this (and was called a liar when I expressed amazement), but it’s true: I may FEEL those things, but I was completely unaware that the feels show up on my face. My boss at the time didn’t believe me and called me a lying liar who lies, but I really don’t think about my face at all. My thought process isn’t “I’m mad! Time to glare!” – it just happens. I was totally surprised and horrified when I found out that yes, everyone actually does know exactly what I’m thinking, and all those “secret” thoughts I have about flipping the table in a dramatic show of passion and rage are anything BUT secret.

You know it’s bad when you totally wish you had bitchy resting face instead of hyper emotional anime face.

So, where do I get a Botox? Is it something I can get at 7-11?

bring on september

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Well, that didn’t go as planned.

We were to leave for Seattle around noon on Thursday, but just before zero hour, Ed informed me he was sick. I was torn between sympathy and rage, with rage and self-pity winning the battle (I am a flawed individual and the world’s worst nurse). After waffling back and forth for almost 4 hours (“I’m fine! No wait, I feel like hell. No, I’m okay to go! Oh wait I’m going to barf. To PAX! er .. To BED!” and so on and so forth), we were on our way – I drove, while Ed was miserable and stubborn in the passenger seat. We questioned many times his ability to actually PAX and make it out alive, but he insisted on going.

We did one day of PAX, very very slowly. It was fun, but it left me wanting more – having the Saturday would have been nice, but I think I would have wanted the whole thing. Ed and I have been PAX’ing for years now (except last year), but this was the first year I actually knew other people there. Each year I try to talk my friends into going, but each year they bail so we end up doing PAX alone – fun, but ultimately lonely and kind of hollow. I’ve never been to a PAX party, have never been to a concert, have never done much more than one day of wandering .. and I’m tired of it. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to actually SOCIALIZE this year until it was taken away, and then I was sad.

We came home on Saturday, after selling our remaining passes. Ed is better – he was pretty much fine by Saturday morning, but by then it was too late to do anything about it.

I am so fucking glad August is over – it’s been just the worst month ever. I’m not normally one to wallow in disappointment, but they’ve just been non-stop for the last 5 weeks or so: never ending goodbyes at work, rejection, steamrolling, frustration, baffling references to cake and crying babies, small setbacks transforming into mega disasters, a stupid haircut that refuses to grow into something cute .. just bad times, seemingly for 31 days straight. Now it’s September, which is historically one of my favourite months .. interesting secret things are coming up, including something that might change things .. FOREVER.

Plus, those boots I ordered are awesome.

I barely saw PAX at all, but there were a few things that piqued my interest:

  • Extraction is an FPS made by the guys who did Enemy Territory, and it looks amazing. It brings back my beloved Stopwatch Mode, is set in London (albeit a sad and destroyed one), and will apparently be free to play
  • Neverending Nightmares looks CREEPY AS HELLLLLL and I love the art style. I Kickstarted it right at PAX coz I liked the creep factor so much.
  • New Adventure Time game? An RPG? OKAY!
  • Murdered: Soul Survivor looks kinda cool, and I totally got murdered
  • Maybe it started last year, but it seems like game developers FINALLY realized that nerds have a lot of money they will throw at anything containing references to their favourite games: many booths, small and large alike, had stores set up. I was pleased about this, because I was spending my sad away and also I got a Vault 101 hoodie from the Bethesda booth which I absolutely adore so good on you, game devs.
  • umm .. other stuff.

Tomorrow is Labour Day, but I’m working which is sorta appropriate (if dumb and my own fault).

what, me worry

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Another year, another PAX I am wholly unprepared for. Each year I question why I attend, and each year my reasons (beyond the omnipresent FOMO) seem to dwindle. This year, my main reason for going is downright sad: I want to collect all the Nintendo DS Streetpasses from other attendees. Show me your houses, people, so that I may purchase your furniture. All hail the Happy Home Showcase!

I really need to just hit myself over the head and try to forget about work, and getting out of town to be afraid of crowds is a good start. I’m stupidly worried about my two big projects (and several other slightly less big projects), to the point where I gave some serious thought to skipping PAX so I could stay and work. This is dumb for many reasons, but my ridiculous dedication was winning until I pulled an underhanded move on myself: I ordered new boots from Amazon and sent them to Ali’s place. If I don’t go to PAX, I don’t get my new boots (um and the 80 coconut bars and BMO figurine that somehow also ended up in my cart). Since new boots easily trumps my worrying that the universe will fall apart if I’m not there to be angry, I will go to PAX. I am easily manipulated by myself (and I may have volunteered to work the holiday Monday so we don’t fall even further behind).

I need to turn off my brain for a few days; enjoy PAX and new boots and Seattle. After all, next week is going to be even more challenging .. so why waste all this excellent worrying now, when I’ll have so much more to do later?

I think I may be turning into an ulcer.

the sweetest mystery

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This past Tuesday was probably the worst day I’ve ever had at work. It started out bad and almost immediately escalated to terrible, with some embarrassing Tears of Frustration and many, many things spiralling out of control. When I wasn’t crying with rage and humiliation, I was being steamrolled in a baffling 6-hour meeting. It was a long, bad day.

When I stopped at my desk late that afternoon, there was a card addressed to me on my keyboard: inside, an unsigned, hand-written note with the nicest, most uplifting and encouraging thing anyone has ever said to me. I’m not going to share it – I want to keep it inside my heart to call upon whenever I need a reason to go on – but I wanted to say thank you. I don’t know who left me the note, but it was truly appreciated, and I hope you somehow know how very, very much it means to me.

thank you thank you thank you

thank you thank you thank you

catch them all

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Someone stole my soul on the bus this morning.

I was sitting at the end of a sideways row of seats, talking about salami online. No one was sitting next to me, and only one woman sat across the aisle, two seats down. Suddenly and without a word, she pulls out an iPad, aims it at me, and takes my picture: I know this, because she briefly turned it around so I could see myself on her screen. Then she giggled, sang “Got you!” out loud, and put her iPad away.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Did she steal my soul?

Later, when the bus was more full and she had seat mates, she pulled out the iPad again and showed the lady next to her something. I may be paranoid on account of having no soul, but they both kept looking up at me then back to the iPad as if to compare my soulless reality to the likeness now trapped on her screen.

Seriously, I’m kind of freaking out. This is weird, right? Many strange things happen to me that I consider routine, but this is totally not normal, is it? Am I an item in a scavenger hunt? A Pokemon? Is she playing Dark Cloud? WHAT IS GOING ON?!

Joke’s on her, though: I took her picture right back. SO THERE.

omg wtf.

change

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If I could change one thing about myself – just one thing – it wouldn’t be my fat ass, or my disgusting body, or my broken personality, or my selfishness, or my facial scars, or my deformed feet, or my inability to feel loved, or my overall resemblance to the Michelin Man, or my evidently atrocious self-esteem .. no, if I could change just one thing about myself, it would be that thing where I CRY LIKE A FUCKING CHILD WHEN I’M ANGRY OR FRUSTRATED.

It is SO EMBARRASSING. I would love to be able to hold an adult conversation and use my mouth words to describe my feelings, instead of letting them leak out of my eyeballs. I’m not sad, I’m upset and I have a point and I would like to say these things, but BOOOO HOO HOOOO HOOOOOOOOO sob sob sob ARGH. Embarrassing. Frustrating. Annoying. Undermining.

.. and now I’m angry at myself, and totally in tears about it. :(((((((((((((((((