The One Where Kendra locks herself outside.

There are some days that are just more eventful/funny than others:

My roommate and good friend, Kendra feel that our lives, separately and together would make for good tv sitcom material.  Our tv sitcom would be called: Our Neighbor, Luigi--  In honor of our eccentric and endearing neighbor, who is 45 years old, lives with an asian man (no relations) and his mother, who frequently leaves the house to walk her poodle (dyed pink, of course), with her hair in rollers, and a cigarette hanging loosely on the corner of her mouth.

Anyway, this morning, Kendra had a friend come over for breakfast. And being a nice friend that she is, she decided to walk her friend out to her car, unbeknownst to her at the time that she, out of force of habit, had locked the door as she closed it.  Kendra realized her dilemma when she attempted to let herself in.  She wasn't too worried, though, because she knew that her trusty roommate, Linell, would hear the doorbell/ knocking and let her back in shortly.

And in true sitcom fashion, where timing is everything, this is about the time that I decide to take a shower.  While I was in the bathroom, I heard the distant clinging of bells,  but since I didn't realize that we had a doorbell--how I missed this, I am not sure--I thought that I was just hearing things. I had been taking a lot of aspirin lately for pain, so I thought I developed a case of tinnitus and made a mental note to quit my pill-poppin.'

So, while I was showering, Kendra decided to walk around our apartment to my bedroom window and started knocking on it, thinking that I was still on my bed sleeping.  Of course, I was in the bathroom, so I didn't hear anything.  Kendra wondered to herself how deep a sleeper I was and also asked the age old question: "Why, God, Why?"  With nothing else to do, but to wait and hope that I would answer the door at some point, Kendra decided to pull some weeds in our backyard.  She also watered the plants on the front porch and emptied water that had pooled in one of the trashcans that we keep outside.

Still unaware of what was happening outside, I was taking my sweet time in the shower room.  When I finished, I sat in the middle of my room and pondered about what to do with my day and why I was hearing bells.  I must admit that I was mildly concerned.   At this point, my good friend Julianne called me.  We were on the phone for some time, when I heard loud knocking at my window.  I froze for a moment, until I heard a familiar voice say, "Linell? Linell? Can you...let me in?"  Then all of a sudden, it was like a lightbulb turned on in my head: "OH. I wasn't hearing bells...there was someone ringing our doorbell. And it was Kendra. Wait, we have a doorbell?"

So, Kendra was finally let in and she filled me in on her eventful and productive morning.  We laughed about the incident for sometime. Kendra saying that her life is like a sitcom and I agreed that funny things do happen to her.  The best part is how she can turn a frustrating situation into something hilarious.

Then we decided to get make the most of the day by getting coffee and beignets at the Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney.  It was also in honor of Team Gordo, a term originating from the fact that Kendra and her cousins love to eat junk food and lots of it when they get together.  I've recently become an honorary member when I joined the family for Thanksgiving dinner this past November.

After we got back, we watched a few episodes of TLC's "Say Yes To the Dress." Kendra watched, while I mostly judged.  I think the woman who needed three wedding dresses was kinda ridiculous.

Haha, what a day. And it's not over yet.  Two new friends from Newport, Josh and Dave, have decided to pick me up and take me to Newport to hang out.  Haven't done anything quite so spontaneous in quite some time.  But it definitely makes life more interesting.

Toodles.

A belated Happy New Year's to you.

Proud to be, a minority: me, the token asian :)

This picture is really funny to me, not only because Sam and I are the only people actually looking at the camera (the other three were looking at Jimmy, who was drunk, who decided he wanted to take a picture, too), but because it was probably the most normal moment we had on New Year's eve.  It wasn't a bad night, per say.  But it was definitely weird.  In New Year's eve pasts, I've kept things pretty low key, but I decided to join my friends in Newport this year, because I wanted to do something different.  And to be completely honest,  I had no idea what to expect.

I guess the weirdest thing that happened to me was that I got kissed by a woman that I didn't know. Yup. After going to a couple house parties, my friends wanted me to experience this really shady bar called Pierce Street in Costa Mesa.  There was also promise of dancing and people watching, two things that enhance my life considerably.  When we got there, and after narrowly escaping a fight that broke out in the woman's bathroom (that smelled more like weed than anything else), my friends and I headed out to the dance floor.  Drunken people were abound, people of all shapes and sizes: cougars and dirty old men, women who wore too much clothing and women who wore too little, college freshmen, gangsta wanna be white men, OC housewives, guys who looked like they were Italian mobsters, standing along the sidelines, eyeing the dance floor greedily for their next prey... and the list goes on. 

The DJ was playing some pretty fun music and amidst me doing the robot and other fancy moves, I noticed a woman, probably in her late 30's walking over to me.  I am not really sure why I just stood there. I probably should've run away. But it all happened so quickly. She flung her arms around me and said, "I don't know you, but I loooooooooove you!" and kissed me briefly...on the lips. I basically ran away from her, ran from the dance floor and found Sam who was sitting by the bar.  I told him what happened and how mortified I felt.  He looked at me and said, "well, at least, somebody got kissed by a woman on New Year's."  I replied by punching him in the arm.

It's funny now, but still gross. Haha, I got kissed by a girl. And I didn't like it.

Toodles.

Awkward... happens.

My life:

1. Recently, I received a random text message from a "mystery man" from my hometown of Fresno. He claims that he had found my number in his phone and he was wondering if he knew me. Without revealing too much of my own identity, and knowing how to ask the right questions, I discovered that he was a 25-year old Latino, who works at the same hospital that my mom does (he's an ER nurse), he grew up in Monterrey, California and he goes to People's Church (which is about a couple blocks or so down from a church I used to go to). Using my mother as a source, I had her investigate this phenomenon and I found out that Mystery Man actually checked out to be who he said he was. I am a naturally curious person and therefore continued to reply to Mystery Man's text for another day or so. However, it wasn't very long until it became very apparent that Mystery Man was insecure and required constant affirmation from a stranger he didn't even know. Mystery Man also hinted several times that he felt that our "meeting" was "god-ordained" and that maybe we were "meant to be."

yeah. That was the end of that.

2. My little condo was due to be cleaned today by yours truly and I like listen to hip hop music while I clean. Since it was a nice day, we only had our metal screen door closed to allow some "fresh" air in. "Soldier" by Destiny's Child came on as I was in the middle of mopping our wooden floors in the dining room and I started to "get my groove on." It was about half way through the song, when amidst my dancing I heard a male voice say "Knock-knock?" I twirled around, semi-shocked and thoroughly horrified, and saw my roommates' attractive gradschool friend standing right outside the screen door. Apparently, he and some of the other gradschool friends where coming over for a study session (i.e. comparing notes about some Rorshack test). I did know that he was coming, but I had lost track of time. An awkward smirk spread across his face as I walked to the door to let him in. I said a quick "hi" and hid in our kitchen for five minutes, finished my mopping and kind of, ran to my room. I didn't really come out for another 2o minutes. I mean, I know things could've been worse. I could've been naked. I'm hoping that he's forgotten. Then again, it was the kind of dancing that I normally wouldn't do in front of anyone--especially boys.

oops.

HAHAHAHA

the japanese have developed a new technique to help people learn english...

Blogger Confessional.

Confession: I devoured an entire season of Project Runway last night instead of doing anything that resembled productivity. Who wants to do homework on a Friday night when I can watch people max out their creative potential by making amazing fashion forward pieces in 24-48 hours?



And I think I may burn at the stake for saying this but I think Jesus was ok with it.

A.D.H.D

I may be THE most...easily distracted, un-focused person that I know. Do you, beloved reader, want to know how I got to my blog and started writing this post? Well, it was purely unintentional and part of a tangled web of "sidetrackings" that originated from me trying to initiate a journal entry on my much neglected, Target-bought, leather-bound, private, for "Linell's Eyes Only" journal.

Let me retrace my steps that led me to this very moment: I opened my journal, which I haven't written in since December 6th, 2009 for various reasons--mainly avoidance-- and managed to write the date on the top right hand corner. All of a sudden, I remembered that I should write something in my planner (lest I forget), and as I opened to the specific date in question, I discovered a potential conflict! I, therefore, logged onto Facebook to write on my friend's wall, to let her know of the potential conflict and to ask if she could reschedule for a later time (I would phone her or text her, but since her return from Dublin, Ireland she has no access to a phone and Facebook has become her only connection to her friends/family). And as I was on facebook, I managed to see a friend's posting about a trip to Fresh & Easy, which reminded me of my new affinity for the lemon & cilantro hummus that I just purchased from that same grocery store this week. Of course, I felt like I needed to let the world know (and the fact that the name Fresh & Easy immediately causes me to hum Outkast's "So Fresh, So Clean" repeatedly in my head, or outloud, for an unknown length of time)--and I changed my facebook status to tell everyone that I loved lemon & cilantro hummus and it's bizarre connection to hip-hop in my mind. By the time I had finished my facebook status update, I remembered that a friend from Santa Barbara is coming to visit this weekend, so I wanted to look on his facebook to see what his plans were. This led me to a post from another friend, who had posted something on his facebook wall, announcing that she had a new blog. This made me think of my own blog and how I should add her to my list of "Blogs I read" but then managed to forget all that as I found the need to post something about my shameless distractibility and failure to stay focused on one task at hand.

Sigh. This is a common occurence in my life. It's 30% funny, but 70% frustrating and is a detriment to my desire to be a vessel of discipline and productivity. But, I'm not throwing my hat in just yet. No way, Mr. Jose. They always say that the first step to growth and change is realizing that there is a problem. And my friends, I have a HUGE problem.

Well, now that I'm all journaled out... I think it's time to post-pone my other journal entry (on my other journal) once again. Instead, I will indulge in some hummus and crackers and watch a few episodes of Smallville.

Thank you and goodnight.

Weird things Happen: a poem

Today, I stood in line patiently,
waiting for my turn to pay,
when all of a sudden, a boy walked up to me
then quickly walked away.

I do not know him at all,
as a friend would know a friend,
I do not even know his name,
or if I would ever see him again.

But I was wrong, you see
the boy came back a second time,
it seemed as though, he wanted to speak--
maybe share a limerick or a rhyme.

Imagine my amusement (or confusion)
when he did not say a thing,
he quickly walked away again,
just as I heard the cash register "ding!"

So, off I went to the library,
to study for Apologetics,
all the while, I could not decide
if what transpired was funny or pathetic.

As I was heading to the basement,
inside the stairwell, I got a call,
so I stopped to talk to Bethany,
as I leaned against the wall.

Suddenly, the stairwell doors flew open,
and to my big surprise--
it was he! the boy, who did not speak!
followed by some ...other guys.

Ironically, Bethany had to go
and I quietly hung up the phone,
standing/feeling very awkward
--feeling strangely alone

I waited for the boys to walk by
i followed, three steps behind,
wondering if I was imagining this,
or if I was losing my mind.

Then at the foot of the stairs,
the boy stopped and opened the door,
Immediately, I felt pressured;
as if the steps were miles away from the floor

But the boy stood patiently by the door,
he held it open as he waited for me,
I could not imagine a more awkward moment,
This one is probably in the top three.

When I finally reached the bottom,
I thanked him for his noble act of chivalry,
then I quickly walked away from his sight,
wondering, "why do these things happen to me?"

End.

R.I.P Sparkles July 21, 2008-Jan 29, 2009

I laugh at myself because I am blogging about this. Yeah, whatever. I'm going to do it, anyway.

I took out my nose ring today (hence "sparkles"). After much consideration, and even though I have endearing affection for the minute sparkle that I have had on the left side of my nose for the past six months, it must go. Because even though I do love my sparkle, I do not enjoy removing it every week for nursing clinicals. Unfortunately, I've chosen a profession that considers piercings to be strictly un-professional. Sigh. So, it' s not like I can keep my nose ring when I graduate from nursing school. I still laugh at the comment, Amy Micu once made when I told her my plans of removing my beloved nose ring: "Just change your major then! Maybe you can be an artist!" Of course, she was just kidding. Wouldn't it be just a kick in the pants, though, if I let my nose ring dictate the trajectory of my life?

I do have this irrational feeling that my coolness factor is quickly being deflated--like when you let the air out of a tire--except my coolness is escaping via the gaping hole that was my nosering. Yeah, I know. That's silly. I don't need a nose ring to be cool. With that being said, I know there are quite a few fans of my sparkle being gone. The fan-club includes: My parents, Tamara Stankevich, my Ukranian brothers and of course, Steven Puente.

But maybe this isn't goodbye. I do have hopeful consideration that maybe I'll be a missionary nurse in India someday. If so, maybe I'll get to have my sparkle back.

But for now, rest in peace. It was fun while it lasted. And I was very fond of you, Sparkles. And really, this hurts me more than it hurts you.

White Elephant!

I love Christmas for many reasons: Christ's birth, the nativity, peppermint tuxedo mochas (white chocolate + hot cocoa + espresso + peppermint), making paper snowflakes, How the Grinch stole Christmas, christmas sweaters, christmas lights and A Very Rosie Thomas Christmas (fantastic Christmas album if you're looking for one to offset all the Nat King Cole that's playing on the radio). Christmas is also a season of a bajillion Christmas parties that we get invited to. And Christmas parties means gift exchanges. And the best kind of gift exchanging is white elephant, which is really more like a game than it is about getting presents.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with a white elephant gift exchange, it is simply this: a hilarious event, where people bring random/outlandish gifts instead of store bought, serious gifts under $10 (i.e socks, scarves, picture frames, etc). Apparently this tradition finds its origin from Asian countries-- more specifically Thailand and Burma-- that culturally regarded white elephants as holy beings, believed to bring fertility, prosperity and power. The people believed that, due to the nature of these creatures (and since the death of a white elephant would spell disaster), they needed to pampered and served with special foods, given elaborate housings, etc. However, due to large amounts of resources needed, only Kings were able to afford the "basic" upkeep. Anyway, to make a long story short, the origin of elephant gifts came from kings, when very displeased with an assistant, would give this un-lucky assistant the elephant as a "gift" of honor. And at first, the gift does seem like an honor, however, as the assistant tries to bear the financial (and probably emotional) burden of taking care of such a holy being, the novelty of the gift wears off. Elephant gifts were the cause of financial crippling for many of these unfortunate assistants. This I find ironic since these elephants were supposed to bring prosperity and power. Hmmm. Tsk. Tsk. Well anyway, a white elephant, therefore, has become a symbol of a prized possession, whose maintenance cost, exceeds it's worth.

I was first introduced to this phenomenon in highschool. And I don't mean to brag, but, I'm kind of like, really good at it. Really good at picking out elephant gifts, I mean. I attribute this ability to my quirky personality and having a natural propensity to be random and unintelligible. For example (s), one year I drew a life size portrait of myself (yes, it was 5 feet 4 inches long) and gave that away to a very lucky individual: my friend Stephanie. Another year, I found a chandelier in my garage and after asking my parent's for permission, I put said chandelier in a very large box and Kirk Obermann walked away with that beauty (talk about a prized possession exceeding it's worth.) I think it was the year after that, that I gave a $10 gift card from Baby's R Us, complete with a "congratulations on your new baby!" card. Then there was the statue of a fisherman. It was a very nice statue: picturesque and nostalgic, a lunch box in his right hand, a fishing pole in the left. The best part about him though was that he had a duck head...for a head. Oh and the list goes on and on: a framed poster of Oscar De La Hoya (the boxer), my phone number (haha, a little presumptous, I know), and a pink, heart-shaped dog-tag I had made at wal-mart that said "I've been to 2nd base and back,"--BASE was the name of the floor that I lived on for two years at Biola...it also happened to be on the 2nd floor of the dorm. Hence, the name "2nd Base," and all the immature jr. high jokes that came along with that. JP Robles was the one who walked away with that necklace/dog-tag. I still see him around campus, wearing that necklace, proudly.

Tonight, we're doing a white elephant at the Level 1 Nursing party at Jessika McKay's house. I get to go shopping today for that. How exciting! I am ready. Ready for what the Thrift store has in "store" for me. I am ready. Here I go.

Conundrum.

Kids say the funniest things.

While babysitting the other night, I had to explain to Brody, age five, what the word "conundrum" meant--which he then applied to a real life situation, as you will see further on in the story.

The word had slipped out of my mouth, while I was talking to Brody's baby brother, Brenner, a newly adopted 21 month old Ethiopian baby. Brenner was insistent on reaching for my food, though he had his own bowl of mashed up bananas in front of him--which was his second option, since he rejected his mom's chicken noodle soup. "This is my grown-up food, Brenner," I tried to explain, but Brenner responded with an indignant, "No," followed by some gibberish. Angry gibberish. "Well, what a conundrum we have," I sighed as I tried to think of a more creative way to get Brenner to eat his mush. Brody, who had been engrossed in the construction of his new Lego police airplane, immediately piped in:

"Hey! What does that mean?"
"Hey, what does what mean?"
"Co..non...Conunderum?"
"Conundrum?"
"yeah, co-coh-nonde...rum."
"Um, people say it when there is a problem. Like Brenner not wanting to eat right now. That is a conundrum."
"Co-nun-derum."
"Yeah...and..."
"There! finished," Brody beamed proudly, as he placed the last piece of lego on his airplane. Seeing that Brody was more interested in his plane than a vocabulary lesson from his baby-sitter, I dropped the subject and once again, turned my attention to Brenner.

I decided to let Brenner out of his high chair since he didn't seem to0 hungry at the moment, trusting that when he did get hungry, he would eat his mush happily. As soon as Brenner's feet touched the floor, he made a bee-line for his brother's newly constructed Lego airplane and "CRASH!" with one fell swoop, Brenner knocked the plane onto the floor. I quickly looked at Brody, who looked more shocked than he was angry, and then I looked at Brenner, who was smiling awkwardly, knowing he had done something bad. Before I could say anything, however, Brody screamed, at the top of his lungs, "CONUNDERUM! Brenner! CO-NUN-DUN-DERUM!!!"

I remember the Gellieman

It's almost sad because this guy is actually being serious. He calls himself the Gellieman and this is his very own rendition of Outlandish's song, "Aisha." I remember a time when Pastor Paul would play this video after Tuesday night Bible Study in the Upper Room. It's still so funny.

A follow up on the egg story...

Today Emily "Deave" Deaver, who is staying with me for the week while she works at the Biola music camp, made the most amazing feta-cheese, spinach and tomato scramble using none other than my cage-free vegetarian eggs. We would like to thank Heather Fedbetter for truly feeding us better. I would also like to thank Trader Joe's for providing the spinach, tomatoes and cheese. It was a meal of complete organic GREATNESS:

we're happy cause we're healthy!

Last night, Deave and I-- after returning from a frozen yogurt run-- sat in Deave's car by her friend Song's house, waiting patiently for the boys to arrive for a much anticipated Nerts tournament. If you don't know what Nerts is, well then, you are missing out on the best and most addicting card game ever. Deave, Song, David Burrows and I played for a grand total of 3 hours before we finally stopped with Deave in the lead with 400 points. Not to worry, I was only a few points behind her. Poor Burrows was at a grand total of -67. But that's ok, he was a good sport about it.

Anyway, while Deave and I were waiting in the car, relishing our sugar free, fat free strawberry banana yogurt, we started talking about the guys that we admire. Unfortunately, these guys were fictional characters, a discussion brought on by my unashamed crush on Christian Bale as Batman and...Harry Potter. Deave started naming the men in her life--Gilbert Blythe (from "Anne of Green Gables"), Rochester (from "Jane Eyre"), Heathcliff (from "Withering Heights") and Lord Peter Wimsey (from the series "Gaudy Night" by Dorothy Sayers) and to this list I added Mr. Darcy, from Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice." After a moment of silence, Deave and I realized that we were gushing about men that don't exist. Here we were, sitting in her car, eating frozen yogurt, giggling about fictitious men! It's funny, yes, but SO SAD! But funny. Really funny. As Amy Kuney sang in her song, "Love is Trippy" we're "overdressed, undersexed, starved for a yes, or maybe always tired of being ignored..."

we're really not that desperate. we're just girls. I blame it on the frozen yogurt and Christian Bale.

Eggs-cellent...

Earlier today I went to Albertson's on a quest to buy eggs. As I browsed through the many selection of eggs, I came across "Cage Free Vegetarian Eggs: for the lacto-ovo vegetarian." Immediately my inherently curious nature was raised as high as both my eyebrows. Interesting. In fact, I was so interested that I bought them! I mean, hey why not? I'm not a vehement pursuer of poultry rights (unless you count their right to feed my chicken-loving belly), but I also don't think we should treat animals inhumanely. More importantly, these eggs were a $1 cheaper than normal, chicken-hater eggs.

Upon opening the package I found a letter of appreciation from a kind-looking chicken named Heather Fedbetter-- it just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? The letter said:

"My name is Heather Fedbetter and I want to thank you for giving my sisters and me a wonderful home. When you support the Egg Innovations Brand, you are supporting a company that:
- will not market any caged eggs under our brand-we are the cage free company!
-They do not feed me or any of my sisters drugs, antibiotics, or animal-by-products because when you are fedbetter, you feel better.
-They give us a home on family farms not factory farms because YOU have a choice.

...have an Eggscellent Day!
Heather Fedbetter."

wow. I'll be sure to remember Heather Fedbetter and how much I've helped her and her sisters as I eat their unborn young. Scrambled. With a side of tomatoes.

Oh, the irony.