love the wang

theodore roosevelt made famous the big stick ideology of american foreign policy with the term “speak softly and carry a big stick.” on sunday, i coined the new female bartender term, “giggle softly and demand a big tip.”

women are great tippers if you make them feel great. compliment their hair, their outfit, buy them a round of shots, etc.. women are more likely to compensate your friendliness with the generosity of money. this technique works not only for me but for my male co-workers. to go one (politically incorrect) step further, if you are a male bartender and you make a kinda chubby chick feel good…they will TIP the living bejesus out of you.

men. suck. men want the world from you. they want you to think they’re funny, they want fast service, they want you to flirt with them, they want you to pretend you don’t see their receding hairline/acne/short stature/fat belly. and they don’t ever get the hint. you get a drink from a chick bartender, it’s cause they’re being nice. that’s it. sorry. we don’t want to do you, we don’t need dinner. it’s a free drink. it costs us nothing. and most likely, we’re buying you the drink so we don’t have to keep talking to you during the monetary transaction.

this is the venting session. my title is “bartender.” i serve you alcoholic beverages. sure, if you’re a complete alcoholic and i see you four days a week, we might be on a first name basis, but i am not your friend. i don’t give a FUCK about your problems and i sure as hell am not going out with you (quite frankly if you’re at a bar enough for me to know your name, you’re a looooser.) now, there are occasions in which i meet people i give a general shit about, in which case, i’ll ask THEM about their problems, i don’t need you to voluntarily regurgitate your entire life story while holding on to my hand and keeping me hostage. (we call these people hand molesters. they hold out their hand like they’re giving you a high-five or a handshake and when you extend your paw, they grip onto it, caress it in a creepy manner  and refuse to let go.)

now, lessons learned? i’m a smart ass. i’ll pop off to anyone and everyone, regardless of how much money the supposedly have. (AmEx black/plum/red- seen it all!) i’ll give you a great drink at the fastest speed possible and give you a generally polite salutation. but if i’m in a degrading, work-enforced, football outfit (pleated skirt, football jersey and pigtails. yes, PIGTAILS) and someone is staring at my chest telling me they like my outfit, they will be getting a smart ass comment thrown back into their face. cause that comment is not a compliment, it’s a perverted insult.

BUT, when you work a night shift? it’s a lot easier to make the tips. smile, giggle at everything and once you’ve turned your back, say everything you need to say. since the music is loud, they’ll never know. got a 25 cent tip? smile, give it back to them and walk away. but be sure to make a big gesture when giving them back their quarter, that way every girl at the bar knows he’s cheap. got an asshole waving and whistling at the bar for service? serve every chick at the bar first and when you get to him, smile and say “ladies first” and move on to the next girl. some drunk is asking you out? boyfriend! and point to some other member of your staff and smile (pick a large-statured co-worker…) once in a while you get the fat asshole. and i do mean fat asshole. they are generally caucasian, 250 pounds+ and just a damn fucking asshole. they’ve been lacked love in their life and therefore feel entitled because they have $6 to spend. ($5.75 for the beer and that fantastic quarter left to tip you with.) feel free to fight them. or rather, pretend to fight them. they’ll call you every name in the book and you just laugh in their face. (please, i’ve heard it all.) and then, with a very large security person in front of you holding you back, just LUNGE like you’re a fucking ninja to his fat bastard. they’ll keep talking shit, but fat guys? are always cowards. all talk, no fight (applies only to white guys.) you’ll make their day cause they get to spend the next week talking about how they put you in place (remember, lack of love, no life?) and you get to have them removed from the bar for pissing you off.

i used to get pissed almost every night at work by some random asshole. the reality, i’ve learned to temper my temper. a giggle and a smile will get lots of tips, but never forget to keep the big stick beside you.

it’s that beautiful time of the year. the weather gets colder (or as it translates in the OC, 70 degrees,) the stores are bustling,  the Christmas music is pumping, the people seem to be generally in a happy and giving mood and very importantly, you get to eat fatty foods without people judging (fudges and cupcakes and hot chocolates with teeny tiny marshmallows, come all!)

BUT, there is one place and one place only where the *enter Holiday celebration of your denominational choice* spirit enters and pukes like a giant Rugby player who’s had one too many pitchers of Michelob Ultra after a winning match. and THAT place is….*drum roll please* THE CRAFT STORES.

oh yes, Michael’s and Joanne’s and Tall Mouse. oh my! every one of these stores are bursting with holiday goods in various forms: unfinished wreaths, various ornaments, craft papers/punches/glues/cutters, fabric embellishments and etc. they’re all calling out to you….”make me!” “craft me!” “take me home and make be GORGEOUS!” especially this time of the year, all the stores are enticing crazy martha-stewart wannabes like me with 40% offs and 3-for-$5’s or (my favorite) Joanne’s crazy and kooky Coupon Commotions! and i can’t help it, i’m a crafting sucker. so a normal trip to Michael’s to pick up ribbon and glue usually costs me about $100 and leaving with anything from grommets to a 10,000 piece vellum pack to mountains of yarn.

there is a unexplicable satisfaction to the completion of a craft project; a sense of accomplishement that is so easy to come by. three hours in front of a tv with two sticks and two skeens of yearn and voila! scarf! don’t even mention the soaring sense of pride when you wear it out and someone just HAPPENS to ask you where you got it. you get a certain glimmer in your eye and you pause for dramatic effect before you say, “i made it myself!” and you wait for the gasps and compliments and request for tips.

you can’t really blame me, it’s in my blood. my mom is the craft queen that could give martha a run for her money. she makes intricate Japanese shadow boxes, owns her own mat cutter and can finish a full length waffle-weave scarf in italian wool during a viewing of Mission Impossible 3. the woman doesn’t have to LOOK at her needles, she just kinda knows when to switch from pearl to knit. she once finished a market scene shadow box that required her to cut out each GRAPE in one of the fruit stands. then there’s the vintage beaded clutch i carry during special occasions that EVERYONE keeps asking where i got, the answer? “my mom made it when she was in her 20’s.” the woman BEADED and entire clutch! there’s the sewing and the cross-stitching and the gardening- the woman’s a tour de force a la craft. and i’ve got half her DNA!

unfortunately, the other half of my DNA belongs to my father…the impatient one. so what you end up with is ME. the one with boxes and mountains of craft supplies, but not so much completed projects… during college in the sorority house, i was the go-to gal if you needed emergency craft supplies or some instructions during a mishap (i was VERY popular the night before big sis revealing; arrow-boards and sweaters always seemed to made at 3AM.) but if you looked at my room, you couldn’t tell my dirty little secret. even now, in my apartment, you wouldn’t be able to tell my craft obsession. that’s because like a shameful bulimic, i hide all my binge craft supplies in boxes tucked away behind cupboards and under beds. and there’s a whole section dedicated to half-finished projects…three half-finished scarves, one throw-pillow, one unfinished scrapbook, a collection of unfinished bracelets and a couple of sewing projects i never found the inspiration to continue. they all at one point or another originate from the desire to MAKE people their presents.

and so we matriculate to this point of the year: the hunting season. the season where craft supplies are so cheap, it doesn’t matter that i already own a good 2000 pieces of various glittery designer heavy-weight archival craft paper, the sight of aisles of MORE at 40% off makes my palms sweat and knees weak. i want to buy them, take them all home, roll on the ground with them and admire their beauty…and then hide them in a box like they never existed so i can go out and buy MORE! *maniacal laughter*

but as this blog is to help me self-improve, i am trying to show restraint. this year, i vow not to try and knit a scarf for every person i need to gift (i don’t have my mom’s speediness and/or skill,) i won’t try to make a 26-piece hand-crafted holiday card for everyone i know and i won’t try to bake 14 dozen cookies for all my co-workers and guests(you laugh…but little do you know the truth.) i will limit my trip to the craft store to ONCE a week and resist the temptation of glitter. and i will no longer be a secret crafter, i shall come out from the darkest corner of the closet and yell from the top of south coast plaza: I, THE WANG, AM A CRAFTER. AND I AM PROUD TO BE ATTRACTED TO PAPER, YARN AND ALL THINGS ASSOCIATED WITH THE GOODNESS THAT IS CRAFT AND THE WONDER THAT IS MARTHA STEWART, HER HOLINESS.

it is here though that i must ask my friends for their support and intervention. events that may occur that signal trouble 1. if i ever turn down a trip to anthropologie to go to Michael’s 2. if i ever wear a knitted BIKINI 3. if i ever give YOU a knitted bikini 4. if i ever give you a homemade scented candle and finally, 5. NO HOLIDAY SWEATERS. EVER. if any of the above should occur, i give full permission to admit me to the nearest crafters anonymous rehabilitation locations. should no vacancies be available, lock me in your closet until my hands stop mimicking knitting motions.

thank you for your continued support and love as i embrace and explore my life as a (trendy-non-cat-lady-like) crafter.

the econmy is bad. that’s why it’s important to save as much money as you can when spending. and that’s why this weekend’s warehouse sale craziness is PERFECT for those in need of checking gifts off their christmas list…

1. RVCA- 919 sunset drive, costa mesa, ca

2. obey- 3500 west carriage drive, santa ana, ca

3. vestal- 730 west 16th street, costa mesa, ca

and more (paul frank, atwater etc.) so if you have lots of loved ones in need of gifts, it’s wise to make a list and get cracking. or if you’re like me, bake everyone some goddamn cookies and go shopping for yourself.

see…SAVING.

on another note:

my dog is a genius. she g-chatted with michelle today. some might say it’s crazy! to let a dog type. but i say it’s freedom of expression. i mean there are things i’m certain my dog’s dying to express. and though we migh not comprehend the vocabulary my dog is typing, it’s likely to be understood SOMEWHERE in the universe. it’s just my job as the owner to let it out.

one more thing that i missed while i was away? my KITCHEN.

i’m not that big of a whiz BUT i CAN make hot chocolate like a pro:

1/2 bar of valhrona semi-sweet (56%) chocolate grated and whisked into 1.5 cups of milk 1 teaspoon of sugar in the raw and 1/2 tablespoon of vanilla extract.

but the topper? homemade whip cream!!!!

i’m so damn excited! my sweatpants, a giant cup of chocolate whipped fat and really bad television on Bravo. EEEEEE!

it’s been a week since i’ve been back from vietnam/taiwan. and as people ask me how “it” was, it almost seems like they expect me to regurgitate all my emotions and revelations in one breath. is it life-changing? of course. but so is every other trip i’ve taken that’s allowed me to realize that life is lived in more ways than one. and i can’t tell anyone how it feels or what’s changed without them actually going out there and experiencing it themselves. and even then, we don’t change or experience things in the same way.

so yes. i feel great. it was amazing and rewarding and miserable all at the same time. and i would do it again in a heartbeat (we’re already making plans for the next trip) and i recommend EVERYONE try it at least once in their life: Habitat for Humanity Global Village 

and yes, louis vuitton was right: the journey is life itself. (btw, GREAT video campaign, but then again, it IS LV.)

so now, it’s back to everyday life and the things that i didn’t realize i would miss so much until they were out of reach:

-pizza (esp. the cheap little trader joe’s ones that take like 2 mins in the microwave)

-carne asada tacos

-my dog (of course)

-a toilet that flushes

-MY shower (MINE. ALL MINE.)

-TIVO

-sunday football

things that i will miss from asia:

-funny (but good!) flavored doritos (cockle flavored anyone?)

-pho, noodles, whatever you call it: long starchy strands of gluten & flour in various broths (preferable served on a folding table with a wobbly stool.)

-dragonfruits, li-chis, sweetsops and really really frickin good pineapples

-being at one (and victim to) mother nature

-never knowing that will happen that day

taken from the team journal entry of Thur 11/13 & Fri 11/14 as contributed by me:

” The goodbyes were emotional as the neighbor whom we’ve used the house of to eat lunch started to cry as we took farewell pictures. Our family was sad to see us leave but I think they are overjoyed with the prospect of their new house being nearly completed. While I cried my goodbyes and walked down the dirt road, I came upon the nighbor’s house again. The woman was sitting in her kitchen crying alone. She had left the big goodbye scene for fear she would break out in sobs. Indeed, when I went to hug her goodbye, the waterworks came. Naturally, mine followed. For two weeks, everytime I got homesick I would go sit on this woman’s porch for a little while and watch her black puppy play with her kids. This chubby little dog named “beep beep” brought me a lot of comfort when the sun and humidity and mosquitoes challenged my physical strength. And this woman’s amazing bright smile and spirit brought me comfort when the magnitude of this experience challenged my mental strength. Halfway around the world, I found a dog-lover like me, whose hospitality and kindness is matched only by the width of her smile. And without ever exchanging a word, we’ve formed an odd bond.

As we stood and cried, she told Annie that life is quiet in a small town and how happy and eventful we’ve made the neighborhood. And now to leave after two weeks would make her really miss us. We told her that we would always try to keep in touch with her. She wanted us to come back again and told us that whenever we do, it is most likely she would still be living there.

And so it is, that the memories of this build, of these families, of my teammates become another stitch in the fabric of my life and my being, never to separate from who I am. And that is more than anything I can ask for.”

my original intention for this trip and this blog was to blog EVERY day while i was in vietnam. and as intentions normally go, it didn’t exactly come to fruition. eight hour workdays in EXTREME humidity tends to cause me to pass out practically IN the shower. so instead i’ll share an email i was able to send to family and friends the minute i got a wireless signal

Hi friends!
 
It’s the end of Day 8 in Vietnam. There is a lot of stories to tell and a lot of pictures to show you. The main points? it’s REALLY hot and HUMID. and we’re making great progress on the house i am building with the teams.
 
The Habitat for Humanity group consisted of 16 people. After we arrived in Vietnam, we split into two groups of 8 people each to build two “love” houses for two selected families. “love” houses are a small sector of Habitat’s international work, which offers qualified families labor to construct houses but requires the family to provide cost for materials. (a larger sector of habitat’s work is building houses for qualified families and having the families repay with mortgage at no interest.) One love house is for an elderly couple who have been sleeping under a structure constructed of wood planks and plastic tarps. The second love house (the one I am assisting in the construction of) is for a couple with two children (one disabled) who have been living in a one-room shack constructed of tin walls and a thatched roof.
 
We arrived with just the foundation set for the house, and now at Day 8, the brick walls for the exterior and dividing walls for the interior of the house are towering over us. We have made exceptional progress through elbow grease, sweat, deet (mosquitos are RUTHLESS) and sunscreen. There isn’t a workday that goes by where the team doesn’t leaved the site DRENCHED in a mixture of mud, sweat, sunscreen, water and deet (and whatever else we’ve put on ourselves.) We’ve split the work up to make efficient use of our time and do everything from transporting building materials (brick, sand, rocks) in wheelbarrow to mixing mortar to laying brick walls to pouring concrete for support columns. It is TRULY backbreaking work (already had 2 massages) but incredibly rewarding. The homeowners and their children work side by side with us and makes this experience really worthwhile.
 
Now….the road is by NO means smooth (and i don’t mean the road we wheelbarrow materials through…) We’ve had team members going down left and right. The first ailment to inflict was a heat rash…which affected three of us. the second ailment to hit was stomach pains (probably from the water and maybe the pho we ate stooped on the side of the street…) that hit like 5 team members. and than there’s me: i have the heat rash, the stomach ailment and i, only i alone, acquired a Ste in my eye. But really nothing some skin cream, Cipro and eyedropes (and giant sunglasses) can’t cure. and today a bug crawled up by shirt and bit me about 4 times on my stomach. But I’m still alive and building thanks to these Vietnamese pharmacies that don’t require perceptions for purchase! *wink wink nudge nudge*
 
Over the weekend we visited a school, a coconut candy factory and we tours a few neighboring provinces including Ben Tre and Canto.
 
Anyhow, it’s been a great experience thus far (ailments aside) I’ve eaten lots of GREAT food and meet a really interesting array of people. I look forward to the rest of my trip and sharing ALLLL my pictures with you upon my return.
 
Love and Misses!

(additional blog sidenote: since the email, i’ve also FALLEN and bodyslammed myself into some marble stairs. and have a giant bruise on the lower left side of my body…)

enough jabber, here’s pictures:

the main street where we enter our worksite everyday.

day ONE: just the foundation and some concrete columns

day THREE: bunch of rookies learning how to lay brick…

laying brick: easy. getting the whole structure to be level: not so easy

day 5: lots of practive makes perfect; janet and i looking sweaty, tired and proud

day 5: begining of the R&R weekend started at a school, thank god i brought my antihestimine for my allergy against children

day 6: they kind of boat like they drive…traffic jam in a canal

day 7: floating market in the Cantho province, the only thing they didn’t sell on a boat was used cars

day 8: end of day progress for the interior of the house

day 8: end of day progress for the extrerior of the house (you know you’re impressed)

lunch everyday is a styrofoam container of rice and a bagged side of meats and/or tofu

our walk into the worksite every: jungle-licious.

sixteen hour plane rides are no fun. especially when you’ve spend the first 13 with a guy next to you who’s completely unaware of his foot odor.  about 25 hours ago, i hopped on a giant tin can (aka. a 777) in LAX and commuted 13 hours to Taipei (free WIFI at the airport! love my peeps!) i sat in Taipei for about 40 minutes before boarding another (smaller) plane to hope over to Vietnam. during the plane ride, this cute little old man from my hometown started a conversation with me. i told him i was doing a habitat for humanity build and I SWORE he kinda laughed. and then he started talking to other people around us, and i almost certain they were talking about me and my trip because i caught the guy in the next seating group, looking over at me and laughing. i think they were saying “sucker” in vietnamese. haha.

regardless, we landed without anymore humor at my expense. at immigration, the officer made me wait in line with nobody else in it so that this group of four next to me me could find their passports and proceed BEFORE me.  he kept saying, “they were here first” and made me stand there with my passport in my hand while they searched through all their bags. and then, there was the fun game of luggage carousel fishing. you know, the one where you viy for a prime spot to see when your luggage comes out? and to make sure no one snatches it? yeah…only mine never came out. it must have liked taipei because it stayed behind…. thankfully the airline has now informed that they have found my precious cargo, and i will not have to spend the remainder on my time in vietnam in an ella moss baby doll dress and leggings. (not so great for building houses in the humid country side.)

trying not to let the luggage error hinder my first and potential only full day in Ho Chi Ming City, i dragged my stinky, jet-lagged ass out and about:

it’s like find waldo, but with street signs.

vietnam is not unlike other asian countries in this sense: lots of mopeds, no systematic driving etiquette and lots of street vendors!

taking a ride in the bicycle rickshaw. it’s annie & patrick in front of me. sooo…the great story about this is that we ran into these guys while we were coming out of the ben thanh market and they promised us a bicycle tour of three tourists destinations for 15,000 don, which is less than $1 USD. so we agreed, since it would be a great way to see the city (if you don’t mind being honked at…) our first stop was the war remnants museum (which was suspiciously devoid of actual vietnamese people.) they waited outside while we toured the museum, but it looked like it was about to POUR. so we hustled back to cancel the remainder of the ride and pay them for the trip up until then. EXCEPT, they told Annie that they quoted her 150,000 dong. so after much argument, slamming of cab doors (to prevent us from leaving) and threats to call the police, i told Annie (shouting through giant droplets of rain that were about to pick up) to just give them each 100,000 dong and call it a day. annie was obviously pissed, but it was worth the $5.98 USD to get out of the rain and stop arguing with people who were obviously out to scam us. (this is your travel channel tourism warning

anyhow, dinner’s not even here yet but already much has happened. and if the rest of trip guarantees to match today’s excitement? they’ll be lots to write and read about!

the countdown begins!!! TEN DAYS UNTIL VIETNAM/ASIAN!

i don’t think i’ve been so excited about a trip in such a long time. i’ve saved and saved and saved and now i need to buy everything to get me through two weeks of habitat for humanity and one week of my parents (therapy sessons?) toolbelt, small portable digicam, more draw-string pants (when in foreign country, EAT!) alright, and maybe some new sturdy Frye boots to trekk through it all.

i look forward to finding greater meaning than what the glossy cushy lifestyle of orange county provides for me. (pressure to be skinnier anyone?) i know it’s out there…but sometimes i need to be reminded, that life is lived with purpose greater than the latest louis vuitton monogramed canvas etoile bowler. happily, i’ll have annie to get me though the rough-callus-ridden adventure. hopefully this trip will give me much needed perspective and a kick in the ass to get back to all the things i’ve wanted to accomplish!

dammit, sometimes Oprah makes you cry!

http://www.californiawomen.org/betty-chinn/

maybe it’s because she’s a little asian woman, but i just started to bawl buckets.

darn those that make us want to be better!