The Mochi Way

I know I should be busy packing right now, but my fingers feel the urge to blog.  Yup.  I'm addicted to blogging.  Bunny will not be impressed when he catches me stuck in front of my laptop again.  Earlier this afternoon, he snugged up behind me as I was studying a picture about the Texas urban legend of the Donkey Lady after I read about it from The Cowardly Feminist blog " Glutton for punishment ".  I was thinking that the woman in the picture looked much more like zebra fish lady than donkey lady (but I have to give it to them for the history and story about the crazy ghostie) when he said, "Now what the HECK are you watching now?" Me: Donkey Lady.  It's kinda like that recent horror flick "Mama" but she got that way from being burnt and shit.  This looks like a fish lady though.  Like that character from that Japanese cartoon I showed you where the cute penguin turns out to be a fly devil that loves to eat shit (yes I love to watch twisted

This morning I just realized that more people suffer from this disorder than any other disorders in the world.  It is called KSDmania (also known as kyonskatadiasporamania). What is it, you may wonder? And what are its symptoms?  So let me tell you.  It is very similar to kleptomania.  It's a disorder where people feel the urge to not pick up their dog's poop and get a thrill from secretly committing this crime and getting away from it!  I mean why else would they just not pick up their dog's shit?  The usual excuse is they forgot to grab a plastic bag for such an occasion.  Here I present the evidence that it is just a lie, and that they are really going after that thrive of being caught for not picking up the dog poop.   

Sometimes have you guys wonder why a girl is suddenly acting like she's a love child of Godzilla and Sharon Stone from Basic Instinct, rampaging around without a logical reason ready to stab you any moment?  (Hubby describes it more like The Gremlin has eaten after midnight , The Animal has landed, an evil spirit possession, a dark cloud looming over...he's starting to digress over to the Sauron eye thingie.)  Period or premenstrual cramps are usually the culprit.  Just to scar you mentally for the rest of your lives, I will rely my friend's description of how it feels when a girl is having her period:   "It feels like you are constantly peeing warm jelly and have no control over it especially when you stand up from sitting for a long time.  That pain in your stomach feels like someone has rammed a rusty metal spoon inside you scrapping your insides with the jagged edges of the spoon.  You constantly want to pee and wonder if that sudden "woosh" will caus

After reading Maria Nichol's blog about Chelsea Handler mocking Taylor Swift , I became all angsty when I was this supposedly funny post on Facebook:

So this afternoon there was a knock at the door.  When I opened the door, I was stunned.  I mean how often do you see a guy holding a dead turkey upside down standing at your door?  And when I mean turkey, it was the size of a Jurassic era turkey.  Well maybe not Jurassic era turkey, but it was definitely huge with its plumage all fluffed up from the upside down position.  It looked quite dead as droplets of blood slowly trickled down from its wound. Remember what I said yesterday about people being friendly here?  Well this neighbor of mine thought it was a gesture of welcoming us by offering his first kill of this turkey hunting season to us.  It was really a great offer, but I knew too well to accept this giant turkey.  You know why?  Because I'm Chinese. I'm assuming anyone reading this blog is waiting impatiently for a more "logical" explanation.  Beware, the next paragraph contains gory details of massacring chickens.

That title caught your attention didn't it?  Well that is a summary of this blog, I'm not kidding ya. I did promise to tell all about my "cultural experience" at the community fundraiser for local firefighters from this past Saturday.  For those who have no idea what I am talking about, feel free to refer to " Its-wrap-up-for-this-week ".   Once again, it has been proven that Bunny and time are non-mixy.  Instead of looking up the time of the fundraiser dinner, he just assumed it begins at 8.  So when we walked up to the community hall building, we learned that the roast pig dinner was over judging by the cook and servers all smoking outside next to the roaster.  But hearing the music blaring inside, we guessed the party was still on. So we went in casually only to stop dead in the tracks at the entrance reception desk.  At the moment, I was pretty sure all eyes were fixed on me, the ONLY Asian in the whole friggin' community hall.  Although only two

After chomping down my dinner in hamster mode, I picked up my dishes and walked into the kitchen.  There they are again -- dishes piled NOT in the sink but on the chopping board close to the sink.  So I turned to Bunny who was busy stuffing his face full of cinnamon buns that I made just for him last Friday (Yup that's how much I love him.  I made 3 dozens of cinnamon buns of various tastes and didn't even eat one bite at all). Me: Why do you never put the dirty dishes in the sink? Bunny: I don't want to overwhelm the sink (as if the sink would burst into tears any moment from the dirtiness surrounding it). Me: There is nothing in the sink!  Plus those dishes are really dirty.  I mean you just left them on the floor after you ate so that Max could lick on them.  Now you are putting them on the board that I chop food on.  Basically you're eating dirt off the floor. Bunny: Wha?  You're not suppose to chop food on that board.  Plus I always chop food on this b

Here I sit on my make-shift work desk, I am already fantasizing about next week's move and finally getting a room as my own office!  As I have learned, sharing an office sucks when one person (all I can say is that it's not me) is a litter pig and a spreader while the other person is territorial and a bipolar neat-freak (it's a all-or-none theory I have when it comes to being tidy). I'm sensing that the missing picture to our problem is wine.  LOTS of wine. Needless to say, this ideal picture of us working in the same room?

With a full schedule to juggle, I often find myself multi-tasking a lot in my daily life for different reasons.  One reason is to mix in some fun with some dull mundane tasks like doing laundry or mopping the floor.  Second reason is to boost productivity obviously such as listening to the news while I'm cooking or squeezing in some running while I walk the puppy.  The third reason is to reward myself from a busy day.  That usually revolves around two things that I love to do and combine them together; for example listening to some great music while I take a bath or watching my latest favorite shows while I eat a very satisfying meal. You see....it seems like lately watching my latest favorite show while I eat offend my Bunny greatly.  As recently because Bunny is busy with a project and needs his own personal working space (meaning kicking me out of my office like a sparrow taking over a martin's nest and I have to set camp in our living room), we have been having dinner in

Sometimes I think that Bunny and I have been spoiling our puppy a little too much.  Ever since we've adopted him at 4 months old, he has never been totally alone by himself.  We always bring him along to wherever we needed to go (yup, even to the grocery stores where Bunny plays with him on the grassy patches next to the parking lot), or we simply give up the thought of going somewhere where he is not allowed to go and we have to leave him in the car all by himself.  Whenever we tell people that we haven't left him for the 11 months we've had him, they just look at us as if we've gone boinkers.  Yes, we know our Max is not a baby and can be left alone.  But we also know that leaving a puppy by himself can lead to bad habits and bad psychological trauma.  Up til now, Max hasn't chewed up any furniture or destroyed any house items.  He doesn't bark unless there is a stranger at the door.  And he has never raided the garbage cans.  Even though he looks like a Germa

Looking out my bathroom window this morning and seeing those beautiful pear blossoms, I realize spring is here. At that moment, I feel grateful that I am well and content. At that moment, my heart goes out to all those who are affected by the Boston bombing.

This past Sunday was my bunny's birthday.  And being the "non-processed food nazi", he wanted a homemade birthday cake instead a store-bought one (that meant much more work for me...yah!!).  Since he was king of the house for the day, I had no choice but to comply.  As I googled for online recipes, I pondered on whether to make him a simple cake or to go over the top and make him a three layer chocolate-addict's utopia cake just to show him how much I love him.  At the end, my over-achieving super-ego took over. That began the process of baking three layers of different chocolate flavor cake, cooling them down, icing the top of the layers with chocolate butterscotch icing, carefully stacking them very so neatly on top of each other without breaking them, and finally icing the shit out of the outer layer of the cake (all the while batting my bunny away as he wanted to take a bit out of the corner of a layer of the cake). At last after all that were done, I too

Yup.  That evil time is coming up soon where most people in the country bow their heads in their palms and shamefully regret that they didn't keep their receipts and records.  And I'm pretty sure that almost everyone wonders why there isn't an easier way now that we have all this technology?  The truth is there is.  But it's like signing a contract with the devil, except with less chanting and blood and gore.  By asking the help of the tax consultants, you are basically handing all your dark dirty secrets to them....say like you spent $400 dollars on a pair of heels and try to write it off as medical/business expenses (not that I have recently!).  The reasons are the following: