"This is Tian. How may I help you?"

Yesterday at work I answered the phone to an anxious woman. She was still in the middle of submitting every portion of her application to our program and was "just calling" to give me the heads up that one part wouldn't make it before the deadline. She continued to explain she would move forward with the admittance process and continue as if she had turned everything in even though her application was incomplete.

Oh, that's so nice of her.

Where do people miss out on such social understanding? I mean, I may be accused of beating to my own drum at times, and I often like to violate the social norm but in good measure. But I don't just walk out of the grocery store with my Canada Dry and processed cookies without paying because the line is too long and I don't have time right then to pay.

After I explained that she must have that portion of the application submitted before she could proceed with anything associated with our department, she insisted on telling me her story, again, which had to do with the fact that she moved from New York. The credentials and endorsement she needed had to come from a previous associate in the Big Apple. And,..."I'm just telling you that it won't get to you before the deadline." And,..."people are busy in New York."

You never know what new things you'll learn at work.

New Look for a New Year

In honor of the New Year, I gave bloggy a new outfit and accessories. This is my way of encouraging myself to blog more. We'll see if that really works. However, I don't think the title "eggs and toast" really suites the sleek black background, or the new pics. Hum. I've been brainstorming new titles, clever ones that make me feel sophisticated and thin, like an Asian. (Stole that from Rachel Getting Married).

The problem is "eggs and toast" is a sentimental yet accessible title. Chenko use to sing the little phrase while shuffling to the breakfast table in the morning, bowls of zoom in hand. Its perky tri-syllabic rhythm made it easily interchangeable with other random phrases. Phrases like "bits of dew" and "walk to school" often spontaneously awoke myself and the elder four in the morning.

And then there's just the nostalgic and satiated goodness that the combination of sunny-side-up eggs and buttery toast brings to your heart. No, no, EGGS AND TOAST forever! Hips and Breasts for women!

My Bacon List

I'm sitting here doing some algebra, because Wednesday nights full of algebra really do something to my ego, and I think to myself, "Ooo, I'd really like to make a list right now." And then I realized that Fuzzy Robot and I already discussed a list today and how that made me feel all Fuzzy Robot type fuzzy and want to say phrases like "little nap."

The reason behind the list-making hanker is because earlier today, Robot told me she gets to see Kevin Bacon tomorrow. This made me jealous, and then really hungry. And then I had to honestly ask myself if I would rather see Kevin Bacon tomorrow or eat an Urban Cowboy from Gandolfo's with the breaded chicken, bacon, and BBQ sauce. At moments like these it's best to distract oneself as much as possible because either answer would have proved myself ridiculous. (I really do LOVE both types of Bacon.)

Then I got on FB and did some socially-approved stalking for a bit, because that's all FB is good for (massive distraction), and decided I really do want to record my LIST that occurred after Robot and I virtually chatted. So, here's my list.

Hollywoodites as great as Kevin Bacon (and we are talking serious prime-Bacon-time):

John Cusack

Molly Ringwald

Elisabeth Shue

Tate Donovan

Johnny Lee Miller

Snow, Snow, Snow

I was properly raised on the Michael Curtiz's classic "White Christmas." In fact, it took me a good ten years before I realized I would never be able to tap my foot as fast as Vera Ellen does in the piece "Choreography." That was a sad day. Heider Head has as thin as ankles as Vera Ellen, but she also can't tap her foot that fast. I know. I've seen her try.



Every Christmas season we (meaning Chenko and I) watch "White Christmas." And every year I realize how hot Rosemary Clooney is. Seriously, Hollywood just doesn't make them like that anymore. Where have all the curves gone? Anyway, I justed wanted to make that quick little plug for humanity during the Chrismas season because Christmas is made of cheer. HIPS AND BREASTS FOR WOMEN!

Maybe I'll make campaign buttons.

What are you grateful for?

"Wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving."

-Kahlil Gibran

The past week I have had the same dream about three times. Now, somebody will tell me that you can't have the same dreams and this whole post will be invalid and then I will take another month and a half hiatus from blogging.

So, back to the dream. In my dream I am reading other people's blogs. Which, I can't remember who is the blogger or what they are blogging about except one particular blog. And the irony is, this person doesn't even blog! It's Barrister Joe.

Hilarious already, right? Plus, to add to the surreal-ness of it all, his blog is completely devoted to discussing and pontificating on pieces of art. Let the laughter ensue. Great, right. The art is so vivid in the dream against his white background and black text that I only remembered today that it was a dream and not real. However, the pieces or are are not works I've ever seen, although they all qualify for particular schools of styles. There is an impressionist piece, one fairly resembling a Carvaggio, and then some modern pieces that I don't like much, and others.

Anyway, he does a really great job expounding upon each artists' strengths and weaknesses. He also explores how it makes him feel and act; it is a very heartfelt blog. This all leads to, in some unknown way to me, gratitude. Hence, the inclusion of Gibran quotables.

Barrister Joe doesn't share my immense like for Gibran , but I felt that the above quote was suitable for the approaching holiday. (Later, he might pout that I gave him that much censure.) Back to the quote...a list in honor of Thanksgiving.

My Selfish List of Gratitude:

Brothers-Barrister Joe and the Head

they keep me on my toes about my education

Sisters-Heider Head and Bunnicula

they help me not take the brothers, or myself, too seriously

A Clean Inbox

helps me measure my state of mental well-being

Elliptical Machine

it works just as great as the treadmill but much more fun

Lip gloss and Black boots

a sure fire way to secure hotness and confidence in a minute

IMDb

my secret pleasure

Opera

makes allowances for ridiculousness and inconceivable plots with out question

Democracy

Prayer

Four Seasons

Spontaneity

Pamchenko

reminds me to keep my "fish in the sea"; she's known for twisting idioms

Podly

will say "I love you" first on the phone

Shakespeare According to Tian

I've been thinking about the following lines from Prince Hal's famous monologue in Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part 1 quite a bit lately:

If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents (events).

(1.2.198-201; Bevington. Necessary Shakespeare)

This isn't the main point of Hal's pontification; it is used to add greater depth and support to his argument that he is purposely being a type of prodigal son: bad now so that when he does change it will have greater impact upon those he associates with.

And, now Princess Tian will add her two bits.

It's like when you don't wear make-up or really don't do your hair for a couple weeks. You resort to jeans, sweatshirts, and tennis shoes everyday and look somewhat like a vagabond. (Do you always think of Elton John when you hear that word? I do. And not because I think he's a vagabond. Music, people, music.) And then...you get dolled up one day and everyone tells you you're beautiful when really you look normal but they're latest impression of you has been terrible and so they honestly are quite taken aback by your appearance in the best of ways.

Well, that's all for today. Stay tuned for the next episode of Shakespeare according to Tian where we discuss how Will S. totally knew Rowling would be a bestseller.

Yi Fu de Wen Ti

I am currently wearing a very worn and faded navy blue skirt that almost hits my ankles and was worn probably twice a week in Taiwan for a year and a half with a light blue polo work shirt accompanied by a brown camisole underneath and bottomed-off with old black sandal wedges that are fraying at the toe from Payless. Which leads me to ask myself: Am I a fashion victim? Could I be chosen for TLC's What Not to Wear? Do others pass me by and sigh regretfully?


NO! (well sometimes I really am a fashion victim, but considering my upbringing, ahem hand-me-downs, you can't really blame me.)


I suffer from what I am now calling the "de-auto mobilized starving student syndrome." I, like the majority of mankind, have to work despite being a full-time student. And I don't own a vehicle, nor do I wish to at this point of my Tian existence. Every morning I sweatily ride my bike to work. (I mention sweatily because it's uphill the entire way.) However, I of course have a work dress code which means I can't wear denim, shorts, or anything that normal students wear.

Now, one of my special talents is riding a bike in a skirt but when I crossed that great blue mass of the Pacific Ocean I turned in my cute yellow girl bike, named Grandma in Taiwanese, with the low cross bar, front basket, and back rack in for a two-toned mountain bike with NO BASKET, no name, and an incredibly high cross bar. (I mustn't dismiss that it has new wheels though, thanks to Podly who likes to dote on the daughters that don't live with him.) Needless to say, mounting this anonymous jiao ta che (bike) in a skirt would prove fatal.


So, everyday I subject myself to ugliness. Beauty knows no pain...and ugliness...does. I use to be such a fashionable person, and then HeiderHead moved to Texas and took all her clothes. Ahhh, now, not only do we know that I am fashionably handicapped (which I heard isn't PC to use that term anymore) but I am a leech. Hum. I should stop writing now before I tell you that I usually wait for someone to invite me to be their friend on Facebook just so they realize how much they need me, and not vice versa.


That all finally released from my special place of pent up frustration, it is obvious that everyday I have to wear two outfits. (Now, if I were still in high school this wouldn't be extreme by any means because I used to wear 'like' four outfits a day.)