Ungu’s Evil Spawn

New York, NY
Rental, 11th FL

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I had genetic manipulation on my mind this morning after checking Facebook, so my mind jumped effortlessly into future-kids-imaginary-scenarios as older unmarried ladies tend to do. What? At least I’m honest. I’m not ready for one but I do think about these sorts of things a lot more than I used to.

Since I had nothing else to do while I ran, and I know I don’t have the skills to genetically manipulate anything, I decided to think about what kind of daughter I would wish my daughter to be if she came out ugly. Was that harsh? Did I just doom myself? Sh*t.

HAYNYWAY~ let’s start again…If my daughter were "unattractive", I’d hope she comes with an elevated sense of self awareness that surpasses her own age and any sort of self-depricating sense of humor.

Example:

Setting: Age 17, First college interview @ Brown (yeah I imagine her to be an art fart cuz she’s not very pretty), Interviewer is wispy-bald

Interviewer: Hi *beep*, welcome to Rhode Island.

*beep*: You are Wispy bald.

Interviewer: Yes. I could use some more hair but let’s get back on the topic of getting you into Brown…so your grades are fantastic and I see that you have a long list of skills such as ohhhh you play the violin! How special for an Asian student!

*beep*: You should not get petty over a fact presented to you on your appearance by a 17-year-old.

Interviewer: Tell me something interesting about yourself…other than this acquired standardized list of skills to get you into college. Say…any other tangible skills that you might have listed?

*beep*: I make hot girls look hotter.

What an enlightened child!

Gu is way gangster. Yes..with an “er”

New York, NY
Office, 17th Flr

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There is ghetto then there is GHETTO. Being GANGSTA further promotes GHETTO-ness to a whole new level. Below picture is the perfect example of being so GANGSTA that you just don’t care.

Of course, convict must be spelled with a "K" because that’s how Hard it is.

How Avatar Has Ruined Gu

New York, NY
Office, 17th FL

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I know I know…I am about three months behind the whole Avatar craze. However, this is completely appropriate in the schematics of my life considering that I sometimes laugh at jokes two or three days after I hear them and spend all night coming up with the best comebacks after a fight even though I fought the actual fight in total silence. (not from zen-ness but from not being able to come up with anything intelligent/coherent/wise-ass to say.) Whatever~ you’re dumb.

This morning as I stood in the middle of the sidewalk on 28th street and watched the white petals snow down around me, I was transported back in time to last April when I was in Tokyo for hanami. New York could be just as nice and romantic I guess but here is what happened in the nano seconds after…

Internal OS:

self-hate ungu: woooo so prettty~~ like snoooow~~~

self-hate ungu: wooo perfect breeze life is so good~~~

self-hate ungu: woaaa~~ so magical~~

self-hate ungu: wooo~~ like those spirits in Avatar~~~ wooo~~

self-hate ungu: AHHHHH~~~~~~~~~ (as images of blue people having sex with their tails invade my mind) <— i can talk to myself AND see images in my mind at the same time. I hope I’m not weird.

Snapping back into reality, I continued my walk to work and proceeded to think about the movie in depth so..

Here are the ways Avatar has ruined my life:

1. I can no longer enjoy hanami w/o thinking about tail sex + tail sex with horse/flying lizard thingys.

2. I feel like a pervert for thinking that the Na’vi people are hot/was kind of turned on at the movies. (BUT ALL THOSE SIDE PROFILE NIPPLE SHOTS!?!?!)

3. Whenever I see Jake Sully in Na’vi form, I think in the "Carebears…Stare" voice, "LOINCLOTH…DROP!" oh wait… maybe this belongs under #2 as well??!?!

4. Whenever a movie comes out in 3D, I feel compelled to watch the 3D version even though it wasn’t made for 3D.

3D movie ticket in NYC: USD$18.00/PC

2D movie ticket in NYC: USD$12.50/PC.

Diff: USD$5.50 That’s ONE FIVE DOLLAR FOOT LONG!! (friendly note to new readers that 5-dollar foot-long subway is my unit of measure for almost everything in life.)

5. Those 3D glasses are too big for my head so every minute spent wearing them is taking away one minute of me being uber stylish and that’s a whopping ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY MINUTES of fugliness!

6. The Na’vi’s makes me feel short and want to curse my parents’ genes.

7. When I threw away a print out this morning, I thought I heard tree spirits cry.

ok. I’m done.

When One Door Closes On Gu, Another Egg Opens

New York, NY
Temp Home, 5th FL

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It’s Friday night and I’m catching up on this week’s Gossip Girl. OK, I’m just trying to see if I can catch the Old Spice commercials. Sue me. I have needs too.

I really really love steamed egg with caviar. Correction: I really really love eggs…and if you think about it, steamed egg with caviar is really just eggs on egg. I have been craving this dish so I tried to replicate it last week and…well… My steamed egg turned out looking like green curdled boogers and it really didn’t taste much better. (No, I’ve never eaten boogers…it’s a figure of speech…suck it.) ((I think "suck it" was the most eloquent part of my argument.)) Even though my attempt did not yield the result that I wished for, I knew I had to find another way to satisfy my craving.

Thought Process: SHORTEST ROUTE TO GREATEST SATISFACTION aka gurrrrl, what DO you know how to make? pshhhh~

1. Scrambled Egg with Caviar: crack egg beat egg season egg oil in skillet heat skillet OMG OMG OMG SO HARD TOO TIRING HAVE TO SIT DOWN NOW.

2. Raw Egg with Caviar: crack egg…go to bathroom 1000 times and maybe to the hospital but I don’t have insurance OK OK I’M NOT THAAAT LAZY

3. Sunny Side Up with Caviar: crack egg…ok who am i kidding, I’ve never once made sunny-side-up w/o it breaking before it’s even out of the pan.

4. I know how to boil water excellently!!

Dear poached egg with caviar,
Welcome to my world. I love you muchos. You are yummers. ruv, ungu

so here is my dinner and a very greedy dollop of caviar on that egg.

Since there are a lot of flavors on my plate already, a simple beaujolais seemed appropriate.

I let my peach get real ripe….mmm….juicy…..mmmm…..old spice dude….what?!

Peace Outside.

Red and White Gu-p In The Air

New York, NY
Temp Home, 5th FL

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42 degrees, heavy rain, and gusts to up to 60mph, the degree of wind the umbrella I just ordered off of Amazon can withstand before it flips over and the ribs bend out of shape. Patterns. There is no way I am leaving the house today and I feel guilty about ordering delivery so I decided to make Braised Red and White Carrots.

In Mandarin, carrots would be translated as red carrots and turnips as white carrots…I guess since both are root vegetables, they are really just the same thing or maybe all Chinese people are lazy like my family where we slap the word "small" before any color of the object and decide it is a good enough name for whatever the object is. My older sister, M, has since graduated to a more mature degree of naming her pets after video game characters but we have in our lifetimes known an array of little whites, little blacks, little yellows, little blues and they could be anything from a beautiful golden lab to a VW Jetta. So I guess if I should have a child one day and the Hsu family is in one of our lazy moods, he/she might very well be called little yellow for the rest of his/her life…along with the stray dog that our garage attendant feeds everyday.

Anyway, I digress. Red and White carrot is a traditional cold weather dish that fills your kitchen with the smell of a cozy round-table dinner with your family. Watching the carrots and turnip dancing around in the simmering broth, I am mesmerized by how the contrast of colors between the carrot and the turnip is something that adds to the appeal of the dish. The brightness of the carrot implies its rich and full-bodied flavor and the almost translucent turnip guarantees a refreshing taste. This really is a most well-balanced dish for the winter because it is hearty yet not heavy. And of course, no self-respecting Hsu would spend hours braising or stewing something without dropping an egg or two in the dish (even when it’s inappropriate). So there you go.

I made this dish while watching Up in the Air and somehow, I just found it all very appropriate. Nobody likes to be alone and braising such a traditional dish made me feel as if I have my whole family and my entire history with me on the couch today.

Final Product: Dinner for One and my light saber chopsticks.

Is Ungu Penny Smart but Pound Foolish?

New York, NY
Office, 17th FL

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Situation: My office is inbetween the N/R stop on 23rd and 28th street.

Constant: The coffee taste the same to me. (which means it tastes like milk + A LOT of sugar.)

Scenario A: If I get off the train at 23rd street, my coffee costs USD$2.00 but I am only 2 blocks away from work.

Scenario B: If I get off the train @ 28th street, my coffee costs USD$1.00 but I have to go one block west then walk back east towards work. Total time lost: 3 minutes in flats, 5 minutes in sexy hoochie heels.

Brain Flip-out: Savings potential in exchange for 25 minutes of my life/week: USD$1.00*5 = USD$5.00 = $5 Foot-long Subway = 2 extra meals/week. Average cost/meal in NYC: USD$10.00 Total potential savings in exchange for 25 minutes of my life/week: USD$20.00

By Month, this would add up to be USD$80.00 in exchange for over an hour of my life but I can probably get a slightly nicer apartment.

I wish people would take my concerns seriously.

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EDIT: Ungu’s Fate Sealed by Daddy and Mommy Gu

Taipei, Taiwan
Home, 14th FL

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I was milling around my parent’s apartment as usual after our family dinner. My milling about sometimes involves sitting in Daddy Gu’s chair and swiveling around and around pointlessly. Daddy Gu’s chair is situated about a foot in front of the corner where the two walls of bookshelves meet so when I am in my retarded mode, I like to swivel myself to the point where my eyes cannot focus on any of the titles of the books that are whirling by in front of my eyes. As I was in my 7th mindless rotation (yes I count because I am that bored sometimes), I stopped mid-swivel to stare at the spine of a volume called Polymers and Resins.

Daddy Gu was a nerdy chemical engineer and his nerdiness permeates the world with the silence that usually follows his jokes. But keeping Polymers and Resins?!?! and Analytical Thermodynamics?!?!? That to me somehow exceeded the normal dorkiness level that is expected from Daddy Gu. I mean, I always thought of Daddy Gu as the cool type of nerd because the rest of his bookshelves is filled with Kung-fu novels. (or the equivalent of fantasy books in the western world.) My eyes then glided over to the volumes next to his super dork collection, and I see Mommy Gu’s English literature anthologies. Mommy Gu’s ability to project herself onto even the most tragic romantic characters is on par with how unfunny Daddy Gu’s jokes are to 99.9% of the human population. It was at that moment, I had a feeling that my entry, A Study of Archetypes in Ungu’s Romantic Fantasies/Life , might not be so funny after all….that my entire fate has been set out before me and that my never-ending involvement with nerds will…well….never end.

Doomed, I say!! Doomed!! Somehow, my parents bookshelf effortlessly summarized and dictated my love life with 10 lousy volumes of yellowing papers that they should have thrown out after college. And here I will insert what is one of my favorite websites (no, they are not plugging this blog even though I wish someone would pay me to write): FML(.com)

Dear Mommy Gu, All my self-esteem are belong to you. <3, ungu

Taipei, Taiwan
Home, 14th FL

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It’s about a week before my girly time of the month as my skin kindly reminds me by sprouting a huge zit on my forehead. It’s been a two day stare-down contest with this new third eye in the middle of my expansive brain container so this morning, I decided to pop this said growth.

After the painful mutilation, I slapped on some cover-up and as usual, thought I did a pretty good job. (even though it hardly is…I have problems with womanly skills.) I checked myself out in the mirror in the elevator and was overwhelmed with a twisted sense of pride: No one can tell I’m sure!!

Setting: Office
Time: 930am

Character 1: Ungu
Character 2: Mommy Gu

Ungu: Morning maaaamm~~

Mommy Gu stares and Ungu realizes that the piercing eye contact brimming with much unspoken comments is with her blinded third eye.

With my usual skill of: ASKING FOR IT, I….

Ungu: Wassup?

Mommy Gu: Did someone put a cigarette out on your forehead?

Ungu: …..

Ungu: ….

Thanks mom…all my self esteem are belong to you.

DR. JEKYLL & MRS. GU

Taipei, Taiwan
Simson Corp., 9th FL

Every girl has dreamt of that perfect moment where she looks like the model on the cover of a magazine; it would be a moment when you’re looking good, walking down the street in long, confident strides, and a sudden gust of wind blows just right so your voluminous curls fly up and away, framing your face in the most flattering way. This moment…this moment, that every girl dreams about, happened to me on Sunday.

Before you get too involved in this moment, let me just kindly remind you of the premise of my life. First, god(s) hates me. Second, god(s) hates me. Third, god(s) hates me.

The story begins with my Sunday morning hair appointment, where I decided to end my love/hate relationship with my forehead once and for all by getting some side-swept bangs. I was nervous because I’ve always worn my hair away from my face but it was just getting really boring. (i’m not going to discuss how high my forehead is etc etc even though i know you guys want me to.) So after much discussion and research, I am now sporting some new bangs that I quite like.

K calls wanting to go watch Alien vs Monsters and since I never turn down cartoon, I get up from my nap to get ready. Being the lazy person that I am and completely undeserving of my title as a woman, I look into the mirror and realizes something that fills me up with the same gratitude I felt the first time I saw the milky way: I ONLY HAVE TO DRAW ONE EYEBROW FROM NOW ON!!!

Smirking and giggling to myself as I got ready, I keep shaking my head in disbelief about how no one ever told me that life could be so much easier…exactly quarter of a face easier!! So I get ready in 5 minutes…WOO HOOO~~ and leave the house to go meet K.

With my new hair-do, I am looking good and walking in long, confident strides, when I feel the lick of the perfect breeze hinting at THE moment…MY MOMENT. Maybe god(s) loves me after all!!! Two strides later, my moment happens: my shoulders are back, my leg poised in a beautiful mid-stride, and the wind arrives to gently lift my shiny hair to spread out behind and around me to frame my face in the most flattering way as I catch the eye of the guy walking towards me.

It is at this precise moment, when I realizes that my grossly imbalanced eyebrows are now in the plain view of…well…everyone. I completely forgot to factor in…well…I DON’T KNOW WHAT?!?! NATURE?!?! the way the world has been since a gazillion billion years ago?!?! that we don’t live in a simulated environment ?!?

So, there you have it. This is the story of MY MOMENT, happening only the way it can happen to someone so hated by the big guy(s) up there.