people always say work hard, play hard. but HOW? everytime i work hard, all i want to do is go home and sleep or watch tv and be still….completely still.
god i wish i had the energy of a 20 year old again.
my friend ashton turned 24 yesterday. and for his grand celebration, ash ordered a party bus complete with a 4000 watt sound system, three stripper poles and karaoke! the bus took us to the hustler club and canyon inn where the birthday boy got thee lap dances and about 140,000 shots.
first off, let me say that girls love stripper poles. maybe it’s the gymnastic element to it ( i mean, which one of us didn’t try and recreate carrie strug’s heroic 1996 olympic vault in our living rooms?) so when there’s three on a bus, there’s bound to be some heroics. AND since we had gone to a strip club, i was somehow inspired and convinced that i could hang upside and spin from one. PLus, all the girls on the bus were like 24 and UNDER, so you know- mama had to show them a thing or two.
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it’s here! it’s here! my motorcycle!
bob, this little pudgy short guy called me from champion motorsports two fridays ago and told me my 2008 kawasaki ninja 250 was here! and i had one day to decide if i wanted to buy it. i called my mom (she said i shouldn’t) i called my dad (he said “want some money?”) and by saturday, i had a shiny black motorcycle in my possession. we’ll disregard that i haven’t learned to ride it yet, but i LOVE it.
i walked in and bob, my little motorcycle friend led me into the greasy garage to see the mechanics fine-tuning my bike, and in the room full of men in jumpsuits, i squealed “it’s SO SHINY! and PRETTY!”
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we did it. mud run 2008. i feared for it. i dreaded it. and while we were driving there, i felt that everyone had bigger calf muscles than me. but we made it through without dying. and even though three days later i’m still having trouble regaining control over my theigh muscles (trying going down the stairs), i’m proud that i completed it. sure, maybe i should have trained (this thought entered my head about a mile into the run) but “rambo”-ing it is just so much more fun. and i have to thank alice, michelle, carissa & kristin for running with me, cause if it was just me by myself, i would have stopped at the first marker, popped a beer open and just kicked it with the marines. plus, i busted my knee on the first wall i had to scale and ran the remainder of the race with blood dripping down my leg. it felt good to look like a bad ass (even if i couldn’t walk the next day.) so who knows? maybe the nike run for women half-marathon is next? (i’ll train for that one, of course)
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um. de la soul is playing at sutra on thursday. DE LA SOUL. if that isn’t worthy of getting off the couch, nothing is.
me: how’s the new girl?
co-worker: not that cute.
me: good. maybe she’ll work harder.
co-worker: *silently stars at me*
me: i just have a big brain. that’s why i work hard.
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my dog doesn’t know she’s a dog.
my mom always joked around that my dog thinks she’s human. it’s true that kiraa insists on sleeping on couches and beds, eating warmed food and believes that food comes from the fridge (not by hunting) she also always insists on going into the designer stores when i take her shopping and she hates t-shirts that aren’t made of natural fibers (i know you guys think i’m kidding, but the only shirt she’s ever ripped and chewed on was a little polyester blend hawaiian dress i bought her!)
but i never believed it! i mean, how could she not know she’s a dog? she’s like 8 inches tall! and she licks her butt!
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so i’ve been harassed these past months about my lack of activity on this site, so here we go: today’s topic- women. inspired by a few things
1. my urge to kill myself when having to choose which sale to shop in- neimans, barney or net-a-porte. they’re all having a sale, they’re all showcasing christian louboutins like they’re going out of style. and we all know about my sickening addiction to those red soles. i mean, i don’t NEED them. i just want them. ALL of them. and the manolos. and the diors, okay, and the chloe’s too. yeah, and throw in the jimmy choos while you’re at it.
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A new year, a new ambitions. No, this one will not be like the time I tried to learn the guitar (never got past twinkle, twinkle, little star. christian the guitar now sits sadly in his case in the corner of my room at my parents’ house.) Nor will it be like the time I tried to learn to play Halo on XBOX (or what i’d like to call my very expensive DVD player.) And it definitely won’t be like the time I tried to pick up golf (why would you need all the different number clubs when a 7-iron gets you from tee to hole?)
This time, my hobby’s gonna stick. I, J. Wang, master of driving way too fast for safety, am learning to ride to motorcycle. That’s right. I’m gonna look cool. But not in the Japanese Anime ninja girl in black leather riding Tokyo drift style, but in a behemian yuppie who happens to ride a motorcycle kind of cool.
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