Geisha School Dropout

Another Confession: Corgi Edition

(Because I can't think of anything else to write.)

For all of you who have visited my home, you know the first being to greet you is Maggie, our lovely, well-mannered little corgi.

Well, Maggie has a very shameful secret: she is a pill-popping junkie.

 

Hello, my name is Maggie, and I'm an addict. Hello, Maggie!

 

GASP!!!  For shame!

It all started when Maggie started limping.  At first the vet thought it was normal arthritis and hip dysplasia setting in, so he gave her a prescription for Tramadol, a mild opiate that you can take long-term.  He referred me to a specialist anyway, just in case there was more to the picture, and it turned out Maggie blew out her ACL on her right leg.  We hemmed and hawed about the surgery for a couple weeks, then finally decided to fork over the dough because Maggie was still young, should recover quite well, and enjoy her new bionic knee for many years.

So she had her surgery and the recovery process was supposed to take about 12-16 weeks.  She was supposed to stay on the Tramadol for 4 weeks, then stop.  And when we ran out of pills initially, she was fine for a couple days.  Then something kicked in hardcore.  She was panting, she couldn't sleep, she wandered around the house like it was too uncomfortable to lie down, and she kept vomiting.  I called the vet, afraid that she had an infection or her body was rejecting her new orthopedic hardware.

Turns out she was going through withdrawal!

We agreed to put her back on the dope, at least until she fully recovered.  Then we will put her on a doggy 12-step program.  If that doesn't work out, I wonder if I'll have to send her to rehab!

 

They tried to make me go to rehab, but I said "Bow, wow, wow"

 

One day at a time, Maggie!

Thankful for Thanksgiving, by Isaac

Thanksgiving is a day where families visit their relatives.  It is a day where you can have time to meet and see cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles.  Happiness and joy fills everyone's soul.  This is what I'm thankful for.

For example, I'm thankful for civilization.  We wouldn't be alive if civilization wasn't made.  It's a weird, but important part of how we were made.

Also, I'm thankful for my family.  My mom helps me with my homework, my room, cleaning the dishes, and folding clothes.  My dad entertains me and makes funny face and voices.  Emily, my little sister, is playful with me.

Finally, I'm thankful for education.  We are lucky to have schools.  If we didn't, our brains would be useless.  Sooner or later, we'll graduate.  Knowledge is what makes us graduate.

That's what I'm thankful for.  But, what are you thankful for?

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Happy Thanksgiving from our home to yours!

Maggie would rather read the REAL Thanksgiving story because she gets off on violence.

Watch it, Ombré

The days seem to be flying past as spring turns into summer.  Here's a break-down of what's been occupying our household this season:

1. New Hair

After almost  year of lying fallow, my poor noggin finally got some attention.  I opted for a dark brown to red ombré, and I really like how it turned out!  I can't wait until the more subtle red fades away so I can cast it with something more punky.  (PS: I used this coupon for 20% off services at Carlton salons.  Feel free to take for yourself!)

       

2. Another Avatar

The creators of "Avatar: The Last Airbender" have struck a home run again with their new series, "The Legend of Korra."  This time, the avatar is a 17-year-old girl from the southern Water Tribe, and I freaking love her.  She's brash, hot-headed, stubborn, and confident, which of course reminds me of a certain female quappa member of our household.  They even look similar (although Korra has a water bender's trademark blue eyes)!  As final proof, I submit to you this clip:

Totally Emi, right?  Right.

3. The end of the school year

Speaking of our little avatar, Emi's last day of Pre-K is tomorrow.  I am more than a bit weepy at the thought of my baby girl finally graduating from schools that can kick her out!  Long live public education, where kids are pretty much stuck there (well, at least without a lot of legalese pomp and circumstance).  Whew.  A long, long saga will come to a close tomorrow, that's for sure.

4. Barbie

An old friend of mine just left his job at Mattel, and on the way out he snatched a literal trunkload of toys for the kids.  I expected Emi to be in Barbie heaven, and she is, but I did not predict that we had another Barbie fan:

That's right, Oscar and Barbie are major lovey BFFs.

Their relationship is a bit kinky, though.

So...let me know what you guys are up to!  Is school out for you already, and how are you spending your days?

Animal House

Sorry, I am running out of time for a real post today.  So, here are some recent pictures of the Mang Farm.  Enjoy!

PS: LEAVE A COMMENT ON YESTERDAY'S BLOG FOR A CHANCE TO WIN SOME AWESOME KNIVES!  I WILL DRAW THE WINNER ON FRIDAY!

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Maggie being a charming hostess at our Cinco de Mayo party

 

Oscar being a snuggle bun (little twerp still wakes me up at 5:00 every morning)

 

Rosie and Cheep Cheep roosting on our office equipment (no, this is not typical)

 

3:00 AM, the Devil's Hour

I was blissfully sawing logs thanks to the shot of NyQuil I took at bedtime, when the sound of Maggie growling roused me from my slumber.  However, after a few seconds of sensory recovery, I heard it too: chirping, clicking, and mumbling coming from the backyard.  Blearily, I stumbled into the living room and found Tim sleeping on the couch after a long night of work.  For a second, I thought maybe the sounds came from his laptop, but Maggie lunged towards the patio door, ears pointed all the way up to Red Alert.

I opened the door, and she dashed away into the night towards a bush in the corner of our yard.  There were signs of struggle, some yelps, and then I saw them: 1...2...3 raccoons raced up the telephone pole in our yard, terrified of the fox-faced, haggis-shaped creature lunging toward them, despite outweighing her by at least 20 pounds each.  She growled at them to stay there, goddammit, if they knew what was good for them.  They waved their eerily human-like fists at her and growled back, "Next time, you mangy mutt!"  

The two smarter ones jumped into the yard next door, foreclosed on and abandoned a couple months prior.  The third stayed up there, whimpering pathetically, not wanting to take the chance to run to safety, in case that corgi knew how to scale walls and climb poles too.

My heart sank when I saw that the chicken coop door was wide open.  We stopped closing it months ago, since the hens had shown us they were much happier going in and out as they pleased.  But now I was cursing my soft-heartedness, since raccoons are notoriously evil chicken torturers and thieves, imagining the bloody scene awaiting me.  By then, Tim stumbled out with a flashlight but no glasses, so he somehow missed the 50-pound creature finally scampering into the neighbor's yard to join his brothers, but despite the fact that he probably thought I made the whole thing up, he nonetheless agreed to check out the coop because I could not bear to see them.  He is good-natured and useful in that way.

Thank goodness, the raccoons were on their way TO supper, not on their way out like I had feared.  Apparently they were so excited about their meal, they could not shut up about it on the way there, maybe swapping recipes for chicken fricassee.  I could see them gesturing with their freaky hands how they would twist our girls' heads off, pluck their feathers out one by one, then sling them behind their shoulders like sacks of loot back to their burrow, where a Dutch oven and a warm fire awaited them.  But at least for today, their plans for a feast were thwarted by an iron-hearted corgi with a moderate case of hip dysplasia and a major case of chutzpah.

I couldn't decide how to show my appreciation, since she usually considers herself well above displays of sentimentality and gratuitous affection, so I patted her head and told her she was a good dog.  She accepted the compliment with what I can only describe as proper British stoicism, so I think the message got through.

Oh, the neverending adventures of the suburban farm!

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I see that it has been a full month since I last blogged.  We shall have to remedy this.

Silent Sunday: This Charming Man

 

 

Early Morning Reverie

 

Oscar wakes up this morning at 4:47, whining to go outside.  This is an hour early for him, but I throw on a sweatshirt and pick him up.  The motion sensor spotlight attached to the garage clicks on to greet us.  The chickens grumble at our intrusion from inside the coop.

The rooftops are covered with frost, the grass crunches underneath my slippers, palm fronds litter the streets, Oscar's pee steams like coffee...now and for the next couple hours at least, it really feels like winter here in Long Beach.  

My heart is heavy because my friend lost his dad yesterday after a long fight with cancer.  I am acutely aware of how the air feels when I breathe it, sharp and cold as it goes in, yet warmed up by the time I exhale.  

And for now at least, I am so grateful to be here, for the opportunity to experience the quiet before the flurry of life and activity that commences when the light strikes the horizon.  I tell myself to remain grateful once the flurry does commence.

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PS: So many things have happened since the last time I truly wrote on here.  Emi is at yet another new school, Tim has a time-intensive new job, Isaac is struggling with making and keeping friends, I am very busy trying to juggle an increased workload with the increased domestic responsibility.  I'm also not feeling very reflective as of late, therefore my radio silence.  I steal blips of material comfort from food, Facebook, and retail therapy.  If left to my own devices, I will turn into one the passengers of the Axium in "Wall-E."  I need to metaphorically get off my hover chair.

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PPS: Tim and I are deep in the grips of LINsanity.  We spent our Valentine's dinner reading up on his game that day, watching this clip over and over again:

Wow, right?

He's amazing.  He will continue to amaze.  And he went to HARVARD???  Be still my ajumma heart!

Tim is absolutely in love.  He even has LINsomnia; he stays up to ungodly hours devouring articles, watching game clips, learning about basketball and how Lin approaches it.  It's cute to see him get into sports.

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PPPS: How YOU doin'?

2012 Thus Far

I have been completely MIA since the holidays, and for this I apologize, especially since I posted up this huge confession which was promptly followed-up by an ill-timed promotional post, then another post that had you imagining me in tacky underwear...then poof!  I disappear.  Totally bad form.  Mea culpa!

Here's the "Reader's Digest" version of what we've been up to:

January 1:

Happy New Year!  The kids bowed to us, their aunts, and their grandparents for money.  We ate rice cake and dumpling soup.

January 2:

We got on a boat!  It was a bit surreal looking at your own city through a tourist's eyes.

January 3:

We saw dolphins off the coast of Catalina!

January 4:

¡Viva México!

...and Emi turned 5!

January 5:

Day at sea...and I went so stir-crazy, I hallucinated that our towels turned into sea creatures.

January 6:

We docked early in the morning and walked off the ship.  We grabbed a cab and were home in 15 minutes.  Kinda nice living in a port city!  I then headed over to my parents' house to pick up Oscar.  Oh goodness.  I don't think I properly introduced Oscar to you all!

This is Oscar.  Hello, world!

January 7:

Mostly spent the day gathering vacation photos and feeling like I was still on a boat whenever I sat down.

January 8:

Started getting ready for the week ahead.  I made the following resolutions:

1. Get back on the weight-loss wagon.
2. Start cooking dinners at home again.
3. Regain my composure; I've been such a worry wart lately!

January 9:

Back to school!  Isaac joined a basketball league, and we had our first practice today.  I already broke resolution #3 because now I wonder if something is just clinically wrong with him...he thought it would be funny, or charming, or something, to pretend to kiss his obviously-uncomfortable teammate...in front of his uber-sports-fan dad.  Wince.  On the drive home, I reminded him for seriously the ten-thousandth time that kissing, touching, peeing and pooing, and private parts are all off-limits for him in terms of jokes and/or gestures, since he obviously cannot handle all the connotations involved.  He agreed, but seriously, he does something like this everyday, and I am getting very worried.

 AAAAAAAUGH!!!!!  Broke resolution #3 again!

Ugh, this might be the year I get my first grey hair; I cannot deal with this stuff gracefully.  I need a hug.  And some advice.  HALP.  ME.  PLEASE.

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Anyway!  Now you're all caught up.  We are, as always, a lively-yet-potentially-explosive mess. 

Merry Christmas!

How are your festivities going?  Ours have been a lot of fun, if not a bit, er, demeaning to certain blogging members of the family, ahem.  

Yesterday I found myself squatting over a bathtub at my mom's place, wearing only a shirt and  underwear, in front of my entire family, who were relentlessly laughing at me.  If I had known that my undies would have been subject to public viewing, I would have chosen a different pair that morning.  This one had a large maneki neko emblazoned on the crotch, with Chinese take-out font proclaiming the reader just might "GET LUCKY."  

Of course it's totally ironic and it was on sale at Torrid years ago for two bucks, but that didn't matter as I heard one, two, three snapshots taken as I scrubbed foamy poop remnants off of an increasingly distressed and repentant Maggie.  Why she chose that day to roll around in cat shit, I will never know.  But now we all have this Christmas memory that will never fade, thanks to Tim's digital camera.  Of course I'm not going to post one of his pics, but here is a pic of the underwear floating in whitespace: 

Go ahead and rinse out your eyes.  I'll wait.

Besides mortification, we served up ham, kimchi fried rice, mashed potatoes and turnips, green bean casserole, corn casserole, and crudite with bagna cauda for Christmas Eve dinner.  My sister and I tormented and squabbled with each other while cooking, which made my mom laugh.  Oscar and Maggie loved getting to visit Halmuni and Harabuji's house, lapping up morsels that dropped to the floor accidentally or not-so-accidentally.  A lovely, simple Christmas.  

I wish you and your loved ones a wonderful holiday weekend!

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

Tim was out of town almost all of last week for business, which is usually not a big deal.  However, around 4 am early Friday morning, I awoke to the sound of our garage door being manually opened or closed.  Our garage door is made of some kind of flimsy pseudo-metal that even Isaac, a 60-pound 7-year-old, can just lift up with his hands.  I assumed whoever was doing this wanted to take stuff, but honestly, there is nothing in there except some of our Christmas decorations, a ping pong table, our bikes, a bunch of crickets, and our chicken supplies.

I debated on whether or not to bother the police, but since the sound was so unmistakable, absolutely no good reason for anyone to mess with our garage at this hour, and I was alone with the kids, I did end up calling.  The dispatch lady stayed on the phone with me for the two minutes it took the 6 cop cars to pull up.  I must live in a good neighborhood for the police to not be busy at that hour, no?  They poked around and checked out the garage and found no sign of anyone.  Whoever it was didn't even take our new bikes!  I almost felt offended!  What, our stuff wasn't good enough to steal?   

My best guess is that this wasn't the work of a professional thief, but rather some punk kid spotting the Mercedes in the driveway and thinking there might be some cool stuff in the garage.  But unfortunately for him/her, we do not keep our gold bars and extra iPads back there, and our bikes probably aren't as nice as the one they came on, heh.  

Nothing happened except for Long Beach's finest boys in blue getting a peek of my nightgown, but because of this incident I've decided to up the security around here.  We'll be installing a motion-sensor flood light back there as well as a latch for the garage door.  In the meantime, a jumper cable clamp looped through where a latch would normally go does a good-enough job, and hopefully that punk kid stays out of trouble from now on and I can resume sleeping well soon.

PS: The next day was the chickens' hatchday!  They turned 1.   Where has the time gone?

Rosie and Cheep Cheep at about 3 weeks old

Rosie and Cheep Cheep at 1 year old!