god i wish i had the energy of a 20 year old again.

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.

i showed them alright…..until i woke up the next morning unable to lift my arms past the 45 degree angle and unable to laugh without abdominal pain. apparently, stripper pole activities are only for people in fit physical conditions- and not for 27 year olds with muscles that have atrophied into fat.

let that be a warning to the rest of you. (cause my arms hurt from holding them off to type so i gatta lay down now…)

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!”

a few things have happened since i’ve gotten it:

1. i’ve getten it to 5th gear, except there’s no gear indicator, so i forgot what gear i was in. and then i just kept down-shifting. but then i lost neutral….that was confusing.

2. the bike fell over while i was trying to move it, thankfully there were no scratchings (thank god for frame sliders) but i was able to pick it back up BY MYSELF!!!!

3. i’ve been practicing taking off my helmet and shaking my hair out in slow motion. it’s looking gOOd.

don’t worry folks, i’ll be rolling up to a driveway near you in a leather jumsuit soon enough.

i think my face says it all…

we mustered up our last ounce of energy to take this photo…

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.

co-worker: you know what they say about girls with big brains?

me: what?

co-worker: they can’t ride motorcycles.

me: …..

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!

but i took her to the dog park this week and she refused to socialize with other dogs. in fact, she look rather annoyed at the other canines. she keep getting this chiuhahua grimace on her face and trot away to a corner anytime someone tried to sniff her butt. she didn’t seem scared! just frickin’ annoyed. she then proceeded to leap into the laps of people who were sitting on the dog park bench and just letting them pet her! like a spoiled brat! it was then that my friend michelle (who’s dog gracie seemed to be in doggy heaven, leaping and running and “bro-ing out” with the other dogs) turned to me and pointed out that my dog was pretty much ME. “ugh, it’s so hard walking amongst the commoners.” and let’s be real, that’s my inner monologue every time i WORK. “ugh, it’s hard being amongst the mentally challenged.”

so i suppose, the moral of THIS post is that dogs are like their owners, and owners are like their dogs. and we’ll be happy together, as long as you don’t make us wear man-made materials.

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.

2. leona lewis’ song bleeding love. it’s catchy. but there’s something about it. one night at work, one of the guys who plays for the ducks hopped onto the DJ set and played it because his fiance wanted to hear it. in the middle of a friday night hip-hop set comes blaring “you cut me open and i keep on bleeding” sung by a soulful woman’s voice. ALL the females in the bar are singing along, word for word and ALL the men just look SO confused (scared too). i mean, it’s a game killer. there you are, macking on some skanky chick and all of a sudden, she’s wailing “i keep on bleeding” i mean, what’s a man to do?

3. sex in the city, the movie. i just came from the MIDNIGHT premier. that’re right. i can’t help it. any movie where the wardrobe IS the headliner, i can’t help but be drawn to. it, as promised, did not disappoint. there were the dior sandals. westwood gowns. and chanel bags. one, more shiner than the other. and the very temptation to just be homeless and spend rent on couture.

4. the fear of woman. i’ve coined a new term due to my observation of men whom i work with. those with girlfriends are very respectful of women, those without? not so much. so, i’ve decided that those who ARE respectful have had “the fear of women put in them.” like the fear of God, but much scarier.

i’ve recently moved into a place by myself and i’ve gotten a severe over-dose of me-time. but i’ve learning it’s about discipline. because when there’s no one to be upset at you about not doing the dishes, the only thing that’s motivating you is YOU (okay and sanitation reasons, but you’re the only one that will know you’re a pig!) there are pros: singing to “bleeding love” at the top of your lungs, watching sportscenter 3 times in a row, NOT putting up the ugly poster your roommate thinks is cool. there are cons: no one to talk to about your day, no one to steal food from, no one to share funny TV shows with. but, it was time. and while i may never FEEL growned up, i can sure SEEM like it “in MY apartment”

ALSO, I’m suppose to be running a 10K obstacle course mud run on June 14th. the training not going so hot. or more like, at all. let’s regurgitate a conversation between my co-worker and myself:

me: yeah, i’m suppose to run a 10K in the mud on the 14th.

co-worker: wait, the mud run? the one at camp pendleton?

me: yeah, that one.

co-worker: i tried to sign up but it was full!

me: yeah, i need to start training.

co-worker: you haven’t started training? isn’t it like an obstacle course too!? IN THE MUD.

me: yeah, let’s stop talking about it. because it we talk about it, then it actually has to happen. if we stop talking about it, it doesn’t exist right?

co-worker: your team is going to KILL you.

oh gawd. i’m going to die.

in closing: things i’ve learned today that are of importance- in the movie, samatha jones says “i’m going to say what i’m not suppose to say. i love you, but i love myself more.” i think it’s a brilliant line. you and yourself. loves can come and loves can go. what you think is everlasting-happily-every-after with someone else can be one skank away from your divorce lawyers fighting over custody of your dog, so what is it that makes women throw their whole identities out the window for partnership? can you be a fulfilling partner if your own identity is so easily swayed? and maybe it’s something about orange county, or maybe just newport beach (maybe the hormone levels are just higher?) but there are couples EVERYWHERE. and they’re like ridiculously attractive abercrombie couples. which makes you think- is there substance in a relationship of just beautiful (yes, they’re dumb) people? i mean, i know sound like the single girl talking, but i like myself. being pompous is part of my character. so i guess, now it’s just a matter of finding someone i could possible love just AS MUCH as myself?

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.  

 I’ve already run into a few difficulties such as

1. keeping eyes on road in front of you instead of trying to stare down the car that cut you off.

2. trying to synchronize all four appendages at once to do different things.

3. clutch, throttle, clutch release, BRAAAAAAKE.

4. the concrete is hard and my flesh is soft:

While my gnarly battle scar allowed me to brag to burly men about how tough i am and study the various shades of purple bruised flesh can turn, it has not deterred me from my ambition of one day rolling down the 55 freeway weaving between traffic and secretly laughing inside my helmet at everyone sitting in bumper to bumper traffic. I WILL prevail!!!!

And this is what I plan to prevail on:

The 2008 Kawasaki Ninja 250: the starter bike of any 5′5″ girl’s dream (turns out short people don’t have that many bike options) The goal is the acquire the bike by April 1st so I may maximize it’s traffic dodging effectiveness during the Newport summer/tourist/909 traffic season.

SOOOOO…clutch, throttle, BRAAAAAAAAKE!!!