Tag Archives: photo

My brief encounter with an Olympic Silver medal…

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and greatness…

I took the first flight out to Boston this morning. Right before we took off, the flight attendant announced that we had an Olympic Silver medalist in our midst: Molly Schaus, Goalie on the US Olympic Women’s Hockey team, was on the flight. We all clapped. The flight attendant walked down the aisle with the Silver Medal so that we could see the medal. I so wanted to touch it but of course I didn’t ask…

I was surprised to realize that Molly was sitting in the very back of the plane. For sure, for someone that just won us a Silver medal at the Winter Olympics you’d thought United Airlines would have given her a better seat. But the flight was full, and I’d like to assume that otherwise the crew would have tried hard to set her up with a better seat.

After I got off the plane, I waited by the gate, feeling a bit silly and awkward. I frantically tried to google her name on my Blackberry to make sure that I’d heard the flight attendant correctly. At the same time I was panicking since really, HOW was I going to recognize her?! Then business suits walked past me one after another. No. Not Molly. No. Not her. No way that’s her. Then I saw a young woman by herself, and you could tell by the way she carried herself that she is a professional athlete. Isn’t it amazing someone like me who never ever likes to exercise knows this about an athlete?

This may surprise you, but I am shy, in front of strangers, in public. I mustered up all the courage I had at that moment to step into the middle of the walkway and asked, “Are you Molly?”

She looked a bit surprised, but quickly smiled and said, “Yes.”

I extended my hand, and thankfully she took it.  I shook her hand and said, “Congratulations!!!”

She seemed happy and maybe a bit shy about my putting her on the spot. “Thanks!” she said. Then I watched her walk away.

Imagine that. An Olympic Silver Medalist. And I shook her hand!

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Sorry about the quality of the picture. I didn’t see anybody else taking out their phones to take a picture of this awesome moment, and frankly, was a bit disappointed at my planemates for not making a big deal out of this. This IS a big deal. Or is it just me? Anyway, I am still very excited about this chance encounter. Silly? Maybe. But you bet I will forever seek out the news of Molly Schaus and cheer for her.

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Olympic Silver Medal - US Women's Hockey

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Sundays in My City

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I have not yet participated in Unknown Mami‘s Sundays in My City weekly feature that I so enjoy on her blog. (Actually, I love all her weekly features: the I Comment Therefore I am on Mondays and the Fragmented Fridays) I thought I’d give it a go this Sunday, seeing how I need a good excuse to show off my “AWESOME” (Notice the quote fingers?) photography skills.

Unknown Mami

Disclaimer: These were not taken on a Sunday (as you could see my son was heading to school…) nor in a city (as clearly as the day it was taken we live in a very suburban suburb… I need to learn to not apologize for it…)

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Random pictures I took with my phone because I could

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This post should be filed under “Random pictures I took with my phone because I could” and “I am swamped at work but I need to feed my Tamagotchi aka blog so I am taking the easy, FINE, lazy!, way out” and “I am taking 6:30 am flight out, again, which sucks ass, and I just did grocery shopping because there are only three things in the world that my kids would eat, cleaned up the whole house, did the dishes and the laundry, packed their lunchboxes, left notes all over the house to remind them of trash day, so my kids will NOT grow up to become serial killers, and I needed to go pack for my trip wondering what I could wear that would not make me look pregnant” …

Mr. Monk, my 7 year-old boy, told me to come over so he could give me a very important lesson.
He was very proud of himself. I, like a good mother, was very proud as well.

Mr. Monk gave me "a very important lesson" the other day...

Mr. Monk decided to write a newsletter when he first overheard about what happened in Haiti. Only that he did not know at that time it was an earthquake and not a tsunami that destroyed Haiti. (He was probably also thinking of what happened in Indonesia in 2009…) He also did not know how to spell Haiti then.

Mr. Monk decided to be a Newspaper man...

The 21st Century Phone Booth - What would Super Man do?

Yes, I took this picture in a bathroom stall...

Velcro makes it so much easier to change the price on the fly

“Do you realize the people back here are getting cookies?!”

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Jerry: “I can’t go back to coach!”

This is from the 52nd episode of Seinfeld “The Airport”. The Hyperlink takes you to an 8-minute long collection of the best scenes from this episode. Watch from 7:20 for one of my favorite lines from my beloved TV series:

“Do you realize the people back here are getting cookies?!”

I don’t know why. I just loved it even back in 1992 when I had no idea that I would be flying frequently. In coach, nonetheless…

This post could have been titled “WTF Wednesday: How the Other Half Lives”. But seeing how it is already Thursday and I have been cheating via backdating a lot lately, I will just skip a WTF Wednesday post. This should help with my image anyway: soon I fear I will only be posting WTF posts and nothing else. Since my life seems to be full of WTF moments. Or it could just be me: I am wearing WTF Goggles as I go through life…

It suffices to say that Karma delivered. After my not-so-satisfactory-yet-definitely-great-blog-fodder-and-therefore-I-should-be-grateful-all-considered flights to Taipei, I was upgraded to Business Class for the leg between Taipei and Tokyo.

Prior to this, I had ONLY heard of the Lie-Flat Business Class outfitted for the Trans-Pacific flights. (From my beloved husband nonetheless, who will certainly get it from now on if he ever complains about his air travel…) Oh boy, was I excited. When I got to the plane, I was really nervous: I would have been greatly disappointed if for some reason this plane had only the regular Business Class seats. (Yes, one does get spoiled very quickly…) Wait. How come I could not find my row? It went straight from Row 10 to Row 19. Is it a cruel joke? The flight attendant pointed UP and said, “Your seat is on the Upper Level.”

WTF? Upper Level? There is an Upper Level? I mean: I knew there is an Upper Level on a 747 but I thought that was for the super duper Secret Society First Class seats: where they have a hot tub and possibly a stripper pole or something.

As I ascended the stairs, I could hear the angels singing, celestial music playing in the background. “Ahhhhh—–” Much to the chagrin of my seatmate, I started taking pictures as soon as I finished putting everything away. Oh my. So many choices in WHERE to store my shit that it took me a while to figure it out… (He soon exchanged seats with his wife…) I did not know that I would ever, ever, wish for a flight to last longer. Alas. It was not meant to be. The plane actually landed early. I only got to enjoy my Lazy Boy home theatre for a bit longer than two hours. So why couldn’t this flight have been diverted to Alaska? I would have been HAPPY… Very happy.

CODA: Soon afterwards, Karma delivered again. This time to balance everything out my flight from Tokyo back to Washington D.C. was delayed for TWO hours. And of course this time I was back to my coach class for the 12-hour flight. The reason for our delay? AFTER the Christmas Underpants Bomber threat, AFTER the airports around the world heightened security checks by adding a second checkpoint right at the gates for US-bound flights, AFTER we had all been searched and padded down by hand, thoroughly, some Einstein decided that it was a smart move to make a joke about a bomb with the flight attendant. She reported his dumb ass and he was hauled off the plane. Subsequently the cargo area had to be searched to rule out any suspicious material in addition to locate this guy’s checked luggage. Police and security guards were also on board to search the plane before we were allowed to take off.

I am on the Upper Level baby! It’s like a secret club tree house! Elaine was right: Here is your new Classism…
Look at the space! Just look at it! It is bigger than my dorm room!
This is like your own private movie theatre: they even have new releases. Seriously. WTF?!
I want a basement home theatre that looks like this. Complete with flight attendants that smile. A lot.
Are we flying USS Enterprise or something? This thing and the console requires a manual. It even has an iPod dock that I was too embarrassed to tinker with
Between the seats are the magazine racks. You ever wonder where the GOOD magazines are?
Full-size remote control for the entertainment center. So many movies, so little time…
This was the 3rd movie I selected. I kept on changing it. Too excited about all the choices and I couldn’t make up my mind. Therefore I didn’t get to finish any. What an idiot…
It is not enough for us to have the overhead bins all to ourselves. The side is lined up with storage bins that I can raise chicken in…
This is ONLY the first course. WTF?
This is the main course: honey-glazed salmon. Check out the rice. It actually tasted really good. WTF?!
I was so amused by the fact that I could see my feet that I must have taken a dozen of pictures of my feet
I love being able to see my feet. I wish I were wearing Ho Heels. Actually, I wish I HAD Ho Heels…
I was lying down FLAT when I took this picture. Just have to show everybody, “Hey, I am lying down flat on a plane!” and not in the aisle!

Chicken and Egg

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I wonder what the statute of limitations is for going on and on and on about a trip one took in the blogosphere. Bear with me here: there is an urgent whining I need to unload…

WTF ASIA?! What’s up with all the skinny bitches?

If you know me, you know that I’d be the last person on earth to reinforce/subscribe to any stereotypes knowingly. I am the self-proclaimed, kill-joy, party-pooper, stereotype police. But I have to say, I felt totally out of place when I was in that part of the world last week. Actually, I felt TOO MUCH OF ME was IN the place.

I left in 1993 and have not been living over there. Throughout the years, I have become complacent. I am 5’7″, so by all measurement, I am of medium height in the U.S.  I “carry my weight” really well and I have the advantage of living in the Midwest, to be more specific, in Chicago, the #13 Fattest City in the US in 2009. In addition, I often wonder whether being Asian automatically makes me look thinner, like, here’s my theory, people cannot believe that there are fat Asian women… When I renewed my driver’s licence last year, the man at the DMV refused to accept the number I gave him for my weight.

“You look like you weigh no more than 150 lbs!” So he put down that number. Hey. I was NOT going to argue with him…

As soon as I got on the plane from Washington D.C. to Tokyo, I felt like a giant. Not only was I taller, I needed more girth. I was in the middle seat, and both of my seat mates voluntarily surrendered the armrests to me. That is the kind of nice gestures you make for the overweight… I looked: neither of them filled up their seats. I could see the blue seat cushions. Like the “air between thighs” test, they also passed the “visible seat cushion” test.

As soon as I got off the plane in Tokyo, I had the vision of Godzilla rampaging through the City of Tokyo in my head. Was I merely imagining the worst about myself? I wish.

“You are so fat now!” My nephew said as soon as he greeted me at the airport. With affection, mind you.

“Have you gained more weight since March?” My mom asked. “Look at your arms.”

When I saw my dad at home. “Oh, ha ha ha. Look at you. You seem to be bigger than last time.”

At the restaurant where I saw my brother and my sister-in-law, because that is really all we do: we get together, we eat, we talk, and we eat some more,

“You didn’t lose any weight at all!… Never mind. Eat eat eat. Eat now. Go on a diet when you return to the U.S.”

My entire trip I vacillated between feeling obese and stuffing my face. Often simultaneously.

“You need to lose weight. Now eat some more!”

I love my family.

So here is the chicken and egg question:

Did I feel the urge to get out of there because I knew I would not fit in, in more ways than one? Or did I let myself grow to fit the space that was afforded me, physically and figuratively?

More WTF moments came when I was at various restaurants, roadside stands, shops, stalls, surrounded by skinny women stuffing their faces heartily with delicious food. So fucking unfair…

One of the best beef noodle in Taipei. There is a line outside on a Monday night...

Deep fried anything tastes yummy

Big giant tapioca balls, oh, how I love thee... So much so that I had 6 of tapioca treats in 2 days...

Dan Dan Noodle - a tradtional Taiwanese dish; I had no desire to go to fancy restaurants. I craved the roadside vendors and night markets...

At the basement of any department store worth its weight, there is a tricked out food court lined with shops offering any style of Chinese cuisine (and Japanese and Korean) one can possibly crave. As if that is not enough to mock the overweight amongst us, on the other side of the food court, there are always fancy pastry shops and bakeries, tempting us with the mouthwatering, intricately decorated, baked goods.

Temptations! Tell me this is NOT a case for "f* unfair!"

Another pastry shop. How many pastry shops does one need? Apparently many.

Another fancy pastry shop? No. Wait... This is good ol' Dunkin Donuts! Upgraded!

View from Above, Literally.

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Happy New Year!

These are pictures taken from the plane when flying into Washington D.C. (IAD), of course, before we were told to “turn off anything with an on/off button”. It was such a gorgeous view. I simply put the iPhone to the window and proceeded to Tap, Tap, Tap to capture these images. No professional photography required.

WTF Wednesday: Year-End Clearance

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I have all these wonderful posts ideas for posts lined up for before the end of the year. Alas, I am in turbo-boost Catch Up mode: In less than 10 days, I had the wonderful experience of flying on 6 different airplanes. Not accustomed to being a road warrior, to rapidly adjusting to different time zones, or to packing/unpacking in quick succession, I feel like I am walking through a mist, on unstable ground. Or it could simply be I am walking through crap collected from my trips strewn on the floor in my house since I soon gave up on unpacking. Nevertheless, I do not want to miss my once-a-week WTF Wednesday feature.

(Naturally I am cheating by Backdating this post. Good thing Sarbanes–Oxley Act does not apply to blog posting…)

So here is a composition of random pictures taken at my random WTF moments:

Considering how you call yours a Chinese restaurant, I surely hope one of you are, or at least, the food is...



A question we will still be asking next year, and the next, and the next...



"The Dog and Bentley"

This picture may deserve some explanation: I was enjoying a nice bowl of frozen desert with large dark tapiocas aka “pearls” (which I am completely obsessed with and would gladly tell anybody that I had 6 bowls/cups of those in 2 days when I was in Taipei, on top of everything else I ate) at a sidewalk stand/shop. The shop owner during the day keeps his dog on the sidewalk, as you can see, with a makeshift cardboard-box doghouse. Just as I was admiring the very well-behaved dog, I saw that across the street is a Bentley dealership with a fancy showcase room. I found this an interesting juxtaposition. It says so much about Taipei.

Serisouly. How much do you want to discuss your menstrual cycle?

This is the “Menstrual Care” section at a drug store. I have not “lived” in Taiwan since 1993 and I am intrigued by the resurgence, modernization, and popularity of herbal medicinal health culinary supplement drinks dedicated to menstrual care. This belief has been around for thousands of years, that beauty (read: SLENDER FIGURE, YOUNG-LOOKING, GOOD and PALE SKIN) needs to be cultivated from inside. Not the “inner beauty” crap, y’all. You need to take the herbs. And you need to take care of your menstrual cycles. THAT is what I have been missing for living abroad. Seriously. Mine is all out of whack. Only I did not realize that until I was confronted with shelves of herbal drinks. Nowadays it seems to be OK to openly talk about the “condition”, and though I am far from being a prude, the “openness” caught me off-guard. The WTF yet heart-warming moment came when my nephew, who is only 9 years younger than I am, brought me a case of these drinks, telling me, “These are very effective! My girlfriend takes these. They taste really good, she said, and she does not suffer from menstrual cramps any more. Her skin has also improved a lot. You need to start taking these yourself!”

In which I complain about my seat on the plane… *yawn*

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I finished reading the book that I brought with me 3 hours into the flight. What now? Should have saved the book for the trip rather than greedily starting it before Christmas.

With the detour to Sarah Palin’s homeland I now have an even longer flight with no reading material. And sitting in the middle seat of the exit row by the lavatory does not make it easier to fall asleep, and when I did fall asleep, to stay asleep, I have the opposite issue of a claustrophobic: I like to feel enclosed, better if squeezed into a corner like what they say about colicky babies. I know there is a great story of how I prefer to sleep like a gerbil all curled up but I will refrain and save it for another time… But here I am, sitting out in the open, with all the wide open space, and everybody and their uncle done come and stood in front of me at one time or another during the flight.

And I only have myself to blame…

I have gone and changed myself into possibly. the worst seat on the plane. I reserved myself a window seat in the economy plus section when I first booked my flight. I got status on United. Yessiree.  I’d better, after the 40+ segments I done on flying United this past year… But not enough of a status to select the exit row. When I checked in on line the day before, I saw that there were empty rows towards the back of the plane. The plain old economy seats. But I am fine with less leg room if it means I can haz an entire row to myself. Earth to me: too good to be true… I switched myself out of Economy Plus. United.com actually flashed a screen with this question: Are you sure you don’t want Economy Plus? I pity the fool that didn’t listen to the robot…

When I got to the gate, I sashayed to the counter, flashed the agent my most charming smile:

“I am sorry for being a pain, but would you mind checking for me whether this row is still empty?” He laughed but did it anyway.

“The row is no longer empty. Would you like me to change you back to Economy Plus?”

“Oh yes sir please.” I imagined myself batting my eyelashes if I had any.

“Ummmm. Huhhhhh. All we’ve got left are middle seats now. Harrumph. Oh wait. do you want the exit row?”

“Oh yes yes please!” Why you even bother asking? Anybody ever said no? In my excitement, I failed to remember what Seat Guru said about this particular row: The seats are displayed in red on the website because they are right by the bathroom section…

The view from my thrice-changed seat

When I saw my seat I wish I had Seat Guru all memorized. Or that I had the thick skin to say, “Excuse me, I appreciate your help and all, but hold on, while I consult with Seat Guru. Oh no, the exit row you offered me won’t do because lookee here, these seats are in RED! It says here: do not sit here ’cause them by the bathrooms. Oh and this particular seat is in the middle. Why would you think anybody would want to give up their window seat for a middle seat is beyond me? I am sorry if I just sounded like am ungrateful bitch…”

During the excitement of the medical emergency, the three of us sitting in that exit row were asked to move to some other seats on the plane. Nothing but middle seats left in the back. Except one. The row right in front of the kitchen galley that is especially cramped, and the seats do not recline. I sat at the end, after the man on the other end woke his wife up and explained to her that I had to sit where her head was. The lady commented that these seats have got to be the worst seats on the plane, and I thought “I don’t mind sitting here all cozy and secure!” We got to talking and I thought we were having such a good time. I even offered to give her the book I was reading when I’m done. After perhaps an hour, she nudged. “Are you sure you can’t go back to your seat now? Will they let you go back now?”

People do see the empty seats next to them as a god-given right as soon as the plane is in the air. Don’t even think about moving into someone’s empty seats an hour into the flight. You will forever be known as the jackass that took THEIR seat.

Later the plane started making high pitched noise bbbbbbbeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppp near the exit door. It was so loud that the flight attendants noticed and asked us whether we’d like to move to other seats IF we could find one. So I walked to the back of the plane as I was told. Sure enough all the empty seats have been occupied by horizontal sleeping bodies. I walked back to my seat. Like a fool. I was not going to move from my seat again. Bathroom or not.

Dude. close the friggin' door! And yes, I got up and closed the damned door BUT not before I took a picture of it...

Ok, Sarah Palin, you got me! Now what?

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I am in Alaska. More specifically, I am sitting on the plane on the runway. In Anchorage. We have to make the emergency stop here because a passenger passed out en route to Narita. Although he looks rather young, he apparently has suffered a heart attack recently. He is also traveling by himself, with TWO young children. After they revived him, they decided that he needs to be checked out. So off to Alaska we go.

Sigh. I am praying so hard I don’t miss my connecting flight that I am on the verge of crying.

It must have something to do with me making fun of Sarah Palin. Or me making fun of my father-in-law getting the book Going Rogue as a surprise Christmas present. Or in fact, me making fun of him wearing a hat from Alaska this morning.

“So the hat. Are you wearing that to honor Sarah Palin?”

“Oh yeah. I even went to Alaska to visit her.”

“So did you see Russia when you were there?”

Well, I can tell ya, I cannot see Russia from where I am sitting.

Sigh.

Update: It is 3 am on 12/27 in Taipei. I have been here in the apartment that my parents live with my nephews since 11 pm. They wanted to feed me all sorts of food. I just wanted a bowl of white rice. And ramen noodles my mom cooked. Here is the view from the plane overlooking the snowy mountain when we flew into Anchorage. It is majestic. I guess this must be the silver lining if any could be found for the detour… I pray the man and his children are ok, that they also managed to find some silver lining to this awful and stressful experience…

The view from the plane when flying into Anchorage

Christmas Day Rambling

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The presents were all opened, displayed, oooo-ahhhed, ridiculed, and appreciated. The floors have been cleaned up, except the piles of new possessions pushed against the wall around the corners of the small family room in my in-law’s house to make room for foot traffic. And for Zhu Zhu pets, which my husband discovered online (specifically at Slickdeals where mostly MEN take to bargain shopping as a competitive sport)  to be HAWT this year. He got the children some even though they were not asking for them, probably did not even know about them JUST because everybody’s looking for them, apparently, and HE found some…  Oh, he was so excited. Score one for daddy. Yeah! (… I wish you could hear the enthusiasm in my voice…)

This post really should be called “Insert Foot in Mouth”, in reference to my earlier post “WTF Wednesday: Christmas Presents Don’t” which poked fun at the drugstore’s suggestions for “Great Stocking Stuffer!” Well…

Tis the morning of Christmas day, we jumped out of bed as soon as my youngest child, the only one who still believes in Santa, opened his eyes and sat up in bed. He rushed downstairs, looked at the presents surrounding the tree, and went into the other room to snuggle up to Grandma. Alas, Mr. Monk has learned to wait for his cousin (who along with her mother keep an entirely different schedule from the rest of us) to wake up and come downstairs before he can open the presents. Can you even imagine? A 7-year old, patiently waiting to open the presents that Santa brought, NOT even holding them up and shaking them?

As we dumped out the content in the stockings to while away the time: Candy, as usual. Mini flashlights. COOL. Chap sticks. Very useful for my unwashed, bare face. I put it on right away, laughing quietly at the post I wrote. My brother-in-law exclaimed,

“Wish we had some mini deodorants too!”

I burst out laughing. Too bad I couldn’t tell anybody why…

There is something pure and magical about how a young child’s favorite presents often turn out to be the ones least expected… Mr. Monk’s favorite items this year:

Kichen timer and mini flashlights (aka "bomb" and "detective tool")

Grandma hung up Mr. Monk's "silver ball" ornament as soon as she was presented with it...