this one's for the gents.

do you sport xy chromosomes? do you find yourself underwhelmed by the interestingly pungent (read: offensively sweet-smelling) candles targeted to women? do you wish you could drink alcohol from the candle container once the wick fully burns down?

then i believe manterns were conceived/commercialized just for you. luscious scents include:

• bacon cheeseburger: "The delicious smell of a big, meaty bacon cheeseburger. This candle will ignite the fire within your man as he hungers for flame-broiled beef. This man-scent smells so much like a burger you'll think the grill is on!"
• 4th of july: "The combination of gunpowder and sulfer [sic] gives this man candle the distinctive fireworks smell all guys appreciate. What man won't love the scent of colorful explosions?"
• tennis ball can: "Who doesn't love the scent of a freshly opened can of tennis balls? The perfect combination of rubber and flourescent yellow gives this candle that distinct smell any sports-lover will recognize."

honestly, i can't believe sky mall isn't featuring manterns on their front page, right next to:


(seriously, that's on their website right now. it's a kitty washroom cabinet. DUH.)

i love secrets (!).

just read this in a local restaurant review:

[i'm going to] let you in on a secret, the Moules Frites on the menu is Mussels and Fries.

it is admittedly a secret well-kept from everyone except french people, other people mildly fluent in french, francophiles (btw i have a story about a douchebag who used this word in the WORST. ANSWER. EVER. when i was interviewing him) and foodies.

poor guy.

(the reviewer, not the douche)

megatron must be stopped, no matter the cost.

i think m used to ride bmx with these guys back in the day. that was when they were all about being hardcore and sporting anti-establishment earrings. you know, before they all became emo and started to drink 40s of OE ironically.

what celebrity do you look like?

on any online profile-writing endeavor, this question is always the worst, being an asian female. i mean, how many possible lucy liu/margaret cho/zhang ziyi/pregnant lady on lost replicas can there possibly be? (insert all asians look alike joke here. then put your skills to the test here.)

anyway, i think enough time has passed for my answer to be mildly nostalgic and not totally lame:

that was definitely the hey day of the 10 spot with a SOLID lineup boasting the other mtv classics, undressed and spyder games.

if you have no idea what i'm talking about right now, then your knowledge of obscure, late night mtv programming from about six years ago is sorely lacking.

this is some ingenious ruching.

(sorry gents, this post is for the ladies)

please check out the detailing on the dress below. i could buckle it into a ski jacket (if i skied)! or a high chair (if i was two)! and all the while maintaining a perfect hourglass figure.

i think it will go really well with my carabiner earrings (i know, i can't believe i know how to spell carabiner either):

and hiking boot pumps:

i know it will certainly go over well at da new club conveniently situated in the middle of duke forest.

oh snap! i swear i just saw someone totally wearing those boots (not ironically) on mtv.

it's rather jarring.

for lack of anything better to watch, i'm flipping between pride and prejudice on pbs (the six-hour long, HOT colin firth version) and "i'm a jersey shore girl" on mtv's true life (it reminds me of my deep-seated strip mall heritage). and i've definitely seen both at least two times apiece.

i like to think being able to switch between such drastically different types of programming somehow keeps me nimble. flexible? dexterous? i mean, some good has got to come out of such... diversity.

right?

hibachi + sweet nothings in your earhole.

hawt.

also, please remember when the bears get tough you gotta get tough with the bears.

the ultimate debate: rake, shovel or hand?

brought to you by the association of professional animal waste specialists (no lie):

btw, did you know that the average dog generates 274 pounds of poo each year? because apparently the epa does. can i specify that i want my tax dollars (all $36 of them, cuz i'm a baller) to go towards the crucial exploration of this quickly growing market?

also, can someone explain why is the wsj allocating two writers to covering this? it seems like a story more up offbeat cnn's alley. that, or the insider.

even my undiscriminating tv palate knows this sounds bad.

nbc has just ordered 13 epis of a modern day robinson crusoe-ish tv show. here is the enticing description:

It's part 'MacGyver,' part contemporary morality tale about race and personal discovery, part comedy and part 'Cast Away' meets 'Survivor'.

the only tv description potentially as ridiculous as that is for the vampire character in moonlight that rescued logan echolls from being prematurely relegated to tv purgatory (i don't actually know what that means):

He plays the vampire Josef Kostan,
a mischievous 400 year old hedge-fund trader.

in all honestly, who am i kidding? we both know i'm probably going to watch the macgyver/contemporary morality tale/comedy/castaway meets survivor/destined for success hybrid, just like i dvr/watch a show about vampires in LA just to get my logan echolls fix.

the best use of gratuitous celebrity cameos since band-aid.

in case you've been living under a youtube/late night talk show rock, it's in response to this.

meanwhile, do you actually know the lyrics to "do they know it's christmas time?" because i didn't. the verses are WAY more awesome (read: offensive and amerocentric) than i remember.

At Christmastime it's hard, but when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
And it's a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging
chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you

And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
(Oooh) Where nothing ever grows
No rain nor rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?

(USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA USA)

the developers next door may be trying to kill us.

not only have they put a precious chipotle within several hundred yards of our apartment building (thank you! i will officially be the fattest beeyotch at graduation), but i just saw a sign for a new dunkin donuts/baskin robbins duo that will open for business shortly AND keep its cellulite-aggregating, blood sugar-spiking, fry daddy-loving operations going 24 HOURS A DAY.

if that wasn't enough, our building actually sits nearest to the new TGIFriday's that blasts fucking john mayer songs on its outdoor speakers all day long.

seriously, if/when they downgrade to nickelback, i'm summoning the po po.

i wish i had been invited to this science fair.

since i find it mildly wrong to openly ridicule children, i will now leave you alone with your own thoughts.

(yes, that reads "plants and pop")

and finally, my personal favorite:

(if you don't get it, then you aren't looking nearly closely enough)

source

i'll bet my dad is REALLY glad i'm not seven anymore.

i'm a particularly big fan of the "my dad is stronger than your dad" round. because nuthin says luvin like hurling your kid at a giant bullseye to prove your fatherliness.

this reminds me of when i used to watch family feud when i was little (my parents taught me not to discriminate from the get go) and devoted many minutes to figuring out who our fifth teammate would be based on our nuclear family of four and the fact that 100% of our other relatives didn't speak fluent english. i always planned on relying on the "family friend" loophole to get us through.

that, or go on family double dare instead. we could have been the first trailblazing asian family ridiculous enough to brave the wringer.

p.s. wait. my favorite segment of mdibtyd may now be the assault knock-off where one dad uses a fancy launcher thing to shoot fake newspapers at the other dad, who is armed with goggles, kneepads, a helmet, A FRYING PAN & A TENNIS RACKET to fend off the incoming periodicals. jesus.

p.p.s. dan cortese, really? was bob saget booked? oh wait. never mind.

do you know who anthony mason is?

if so, you've got a leg up on m. if not, it's time for the least athletic person in the world to educate you both:

on the other hand, did you singlehandedly kill two different automobiles on two different days via two distinct methods (flat tire and dead battery via leaving the lights on), all in the course of one week? and in light of the dead battery on the second car, did you ask a (pregnant) friend to drive over and help you jump it only to find that it had miraculously come back to life and now you look like a pathological liar who fabricates car problems to get people to hang out with you by your perfectly uncooperative car?

if not, then you've got at least two legs up on me.

i think my brother got all of the classy genes.

and definitely all of the athletic ones too. anyway, his photograph capturing a little slice of europe on the mean streets of dc was chosen as photo of the day by the dcist (!!):

photography? europe? this has got to be the classiest post ever.

you go, boy!

what "winter sport" means to me.

in unrelated news, maury (hilariously) just told a baby mama (towanna) to stop screaming at the screen showing the potential baby daddy (broderick) and his new wife (dee). i guess you had to be there.

(btw YES, broderick IS the father (!). good thing too, since the baby is named broderick jr. now that would have been awkward.)

necessity breeds invention...?

you know who would love this? all of the people on the subway during rush hour that can't get in the car because no one can stand within 15 inches of you.

actually, instead of positioning it as an umbrella substitute, they should really target the lucrative hypochondriac market by selling it as a real life bubble, a la bubble boy.

i'd buy into that.

a few addendums.

m was unimpressed by the houseflipping buzzwords alone and suggested that the following rules be added to the game previously outlined here.

• take a sip for every $1000 the house is overbudget;
• take a sip for every week the flipper delays his/her open house;
• take a sip for every week the house sits on the market, unsold;
• and finally, chug for the entire duration of the classic kirsten kemp death stare as captured below (seriously, how did we live before dvr?):
  

btw, i would die based on addendum #1 alone. please reference the humiliating zima story below.

a drinking game proposal.

i'm still about infinity years away from owning any real estate of my own, so i choose to live vicariously through the various house-flipping shows on (what else?) tv - flip that house, flip this house, flip it back (the one epi that aired), real estate pros and property ladder (m, interestingly enough, has a definite crush on kirsten kemp who btw, was RHONDA on saved by the bell back in the day).

anyway, despite the constantly rotating cast of characters, there are definitely enough buzzwords bandied about to merit a (ta da!) drinking game. the rules are easy - drink every time you hear the following. if you hear two terms in one sentence, then you have to chug for five seconds.

(for someone who turns asian red on her second sip of alcohol and is done after three drinks, five seconds is a LONG time. seriously. ask my friend who witnessed me barfing on a campus lawn after drinking three zimas in college. ok, it may have been two.)

anyway, on to the buzzwords!

• master suite
• (original) hardwood floors
• granite/slate/marble countertops
• stainless steel appliances
• curb appeal
  
• custom cabinets
• fresh paint
• travertine
• french doors
• breakfast bar
• over budget
• pass-through
• recessed/track lighting
• walk-in closet
  
• arch(es)
• mortgage payment
• energy efficient windows
• staging (chug if they define what staging means)
• pedestal sink
• crown mo(u)lding
  

also, i thought i should point out that this is my week of "finals". i go on spring break for about three weeks starting next tuesday. i know. i'm also frightened for me. sometimes i worry that i'll be that lady on nip/tuck who had to be surgically detached from the sofa. you can't stick to ultrasuede, right? RIGHT???

how NOT to memorize anything, ever.

apparently something called pseudonumerology exists and sadly, it doesn't tell you whether you and your crush are numerically compatible like it used to in the early 90s. what it does offer is the most complicated, inefficient way to memorize information that i've ever seen. however, judge for yourself.

so in order to remember US presidents and the years in which they were in office, the process dictates:

1. associate names with images. so john f. kennedy = candy or lyndon b. johnson = a london john. REPEAT 43 TIMES. (please stay with me. it gets better.)
2. then tie the images together in (nonsensical) sentences, like Candy is flushed down the toliet of a London john. (WHAT?) REPEAT 43 TIMES.
3. finally, simply recode the arabic numerals 0-9 with (random) consonants (4=R, 5=L, etc.) and assign these pseudonumes (haha! so clever!) to the last two digits of each president's inauguration year. then memorize any random words containing the assigned consonants (e.g., James Polk became president in 1845. as you can see above, 4=R & 5=L. therefore, the author suggests using "haiRy whaLe" as a way to remember 1845.). REPEAT 43 TIMES.

i think it's safe to start calling for the end of an era. peace out, hooked on phonics, i'm now waiting for the infomercials with small children squealing, "pseudonumerology worked for me!!"

(i literally laughed for 17 minutes straight as i browsed through the website for the first time and then harassed m until he looked at it too. it is THAT amazing.)

dear ashley, i would cut a bitch too.

seriously, starbucks is like, holy.

apparently granny & i aren't the only ones.

according to passiveaggressivenotes.com, "hot pockets are totally the car radios of the communal freezer."

for your consideration:





on an unrelated note, i also particularly enjoyed watching this melodrama unfold:


this is the kind of website i wish i had been inspired enough to start myself. i think i would have had a running start via my old job, which included gems such as:

Hi Everyone,

Just to give a heads up that all of us need to plan working on Sunday January 22nd. As all of you know part of the expectations is that you will have to work a few Sundays (3-4) throughout the school year as part of the job and benefits.

i know. you're jealous. please try to contain yourself.

oooh i love hot pockets!

you MUST start watching my big redneck wedding to be able to witness special moments like the following:

(groom-to-be shares his vows with granny, rocking in a rocking chair)

groom: wanna hear what i wrote?
granny: yeah, let’s hear.
groom: i wish i could put your love in a locket... because you’re hotter than a hot pocket.
granny: oooh i love hot pockets!

it was all in the delivery, i guess (watch it here, fast forward to -2:10 and then PLEASE wait for the thesaurus comment).

back in the day, my mom somehow found the combination of flaky pastry, cheese, sauce and pepperoni an acceptable balanced breakfast before sending me off to survive yet another day in the suburban jungle that is high school.

btw if i told you right now that my family is korean, would that blow your mind? because despite my penchant for cmt and hot pockets, i swear we are.

i ♥ acronyms.

you have to promise to watch these while paying close attention to the lyrics. they are pretty much the most amazing thing you're going to be forced to listen to today.

(you could be a part time model / but you'd probably still have to keep your normal job)

(my eyes are just a little sweaty today)

randomly, if michael cera ever serenaded me with either of these songs, my head would definitely explode (inappropriately).

imagine, if you will.

...that nathan on one tree hill...

...sprouted 10 inches, shaved off 4 years, matriculated at duke, lost his mystic tan, hailed from jersey instead of cali and joined me at the tail end of the alphabet...

...and voila! i think you would also naturally think of brian zoubek, duke's sophomore center.

(as you've probably guessed by now, it's sunday afternoon, a.k.a. awful homework time. to quote angela chase, there's something about sunday night that really makes you want to kill yourself. and that creepy 60 minutes watch that sounds like your whole life ticking away.)

getting punk'd, six sigma style.

apparently "joe herrick" of "gutterman research" has been able to sneak into a slew of earnings calls as of late, seizing the opportunity to ask (read: bore to death) c-level execs random questions about supply chain management.

so exactly how lame is this prank? i submit two exhibits for your consideration:

1. one particularly annoyed analyst who has had to sit through multiple punk'ngs believes "Mr. Herrick is 'some minion' at a consulting firm trying to do clandestine research on companies’ use of Six Sigma techniques." oooh damn. BURN. that there's dem fightin words.
   
2. meanwhile, coca-cola had been tipped off and executed a contingency plan during its earnings call by giving special analysts a super secret password to enable question-asking. and what is the completely random, impossible-to-decode password, you ask? none other than the shocking, thoroughly unpredictable "diet coke". for a corp that prides itself on its marketing, i'm pretty sure they asked the least creative person in the world to think of that one. they could have at least used "sparkling peach citrus fresca" or something (yes, it's real).
   

the wsj article then goes on to point out that this has become an inside joke in the analyst community and has given them "another reason to look forward to a big conference many of them plan to attend in Boca Raton, Fla. next week."

wow.

boca better brace itself with these bad boyz blowing into town. and right now, i couldn't be prouder that i'm going to earn my keep next year marketing alcohol.

i used to ♥ highlights (magazine).

this pic reminds me of the game where you have to find all of the hidden items subtly sketched in (e.g., a tiny pencil in the woodgrain of the bookshelf in the back corner).

only this time it's a pile of dogs being schlepped around like dirty laundry. m and i are debating whether she's corralling 5 (me) or 6 (m). the crux of our debate is around trying to decipher whether that red/pink/striped thing is a distinct animal or just another dog's ass.

oh paris. what would goofus and gallant say?

comparatives & superlatives.

good: moving into a yuppie apartment complex with a "business center" and related amenities.

better: living in what is essentially a gated community with security guards patrolling the premises at night.

best: watching said security guard thoroughly patrolling the internet in the clearly crime-prone business center.

i'm mildly appalled.

on several levels, actually:

• on my way home from my first baby shower (someone else's kid btw), i discovered that if i drove 2 minutes in the opposite direction on the road to the airport, i would arrive at a tiny (but operational) outlet mall. i can't believe my jersey radar didn't pick this up sooner. i'm disappointed in myself.
• didn't someone spread a vicious rumor (to the world) that mbas are supposed to be analytical or some such? the stat exams i've graded thus far seem to be proving otherwise. choice bits include:

...If I built a small video store on a deserted desert island with no DVD or VHS stock available, what would my sales be? All the other models had positive Intercept values, implying that, somehow, people would come from far away (outside my “neighborhood”) to my deserted island and give me money...

...However, the DVD and VHS library has a very high correlation, which means that they are very correlated...

...I an not mathematision enough (any more) to judge...

...So we should leave it out to obtain a presize [ed note: as in, vs. accurate] model...

in their defense, those were from four distinct papers. i'm not sure if that revelation makes it better or worse.

anyway, in the words of the illustrious tim gunn, that is all. carry on. make it work!

(sometimes i fiend for bravo like pete doherty craves meth)

the long overdue return of pop-up video.

(brought to you by the good people at best week ever)

plus the best burn i've read re: higher (and now you've caught me admitting to actually reading up on it):

The vocals would not sound more computerized if they were done by Stephen Hawking. And his dancing ability would be about the same too.

reality show marathons are dangerous.

yesterday, i got sucked into my big redneck wedding. m and i then spent the rest of valentine's day embroiled in a lengthy debate as to whether the couples featured are fo realz. despite the fact that i believe jerry springer guests and the fortunate folks on cheaters are all legit, i just can't wrap my mind around the people on this show. one bride mud wrestled in an inflatable kiddie pool adjacent to the reception in her wedding dress. and then got hosed down. and then soldiered on for the remainder of the celebration.

i also never realized that camo is the next wedding craze sweeping the nation. seriously, it was prominently featured throughout the epis i watched last night, back-to-back-to-back-to-back.

and my favorite quote thus far? it's gotta be the groom who wrapped up his wedding day with something along the lines of "well, i guess it's time to go constipate our marriage."

the international sign for meredith vieira.

i'm pretty sure this means that conan should solely interview via charades from now on, laryngitis or not.

stuff white people like.

if you get me at all, you will ♥ this as much i do. props in particular for the top ten hip hop song list and having a legitimate reason to namedrop paul kariya's dad in #11.

(you're welcome)

love is a mix tape.

...not to be confused with life, which is a highway, at least according to tom cochrane.

this reminded me that m's first gift to me ever was a mix tape.

of hardcore songs.

that he listened to while riding bmx around west philly.

while sporting a small hoop earring.

seriously.

ah, the good ole days.

when in doubt, make a list.

better yet, make a list about the best tv couples ever so people can debate in/exclusions. my personal favorites include:

however, two of my all time faves will always remain:

(jordan catalano, i will always ♥ your illiterate ass.)

(yes, still obsessed. i think the better question is, why aren't YOU?)

egregious exclusions (outside of others already in the top 20):

sydney & vaughn

felicity & ben

and of course, rita & chris

(did you also illicitly watch silk stalkings when you were little?)

is it april yet? i really need some new tv to watch.

i'm usually not a big fan of eating salt chunks.

...or labor of, well, any kind really. so imagine my pleasant surprise when i made this fleur de sel caramel recipe this afternoon and found it both delectable and effortless (photo borrowed from the recipe source):


if you like butter, sugar, cream, salt or light corn syrup (i may be judging you right now if you actually like the last one), this is the perfect dessert for you. if you like savory + sweet things chocolate-covered pretzel style, this is the candy for you (this is starting to feel pretty much exactly like if you like giorgio, you'll love primo! designer imposter perfume!). anyway, i'm not going to go all rachael ray on your ass and stand on my soapbox shouting YUMMO in your face, but you get the idea.

this would also be the perfect (read: cheap) gift to give that food snob friend of yours that prefers haricot verts to green beans and only eats canadian bacon ironically.

topics that came up in (one) discussion yesterday.

strategic modeling featured a guest speaker who talked about system dynamics and global warming. awesome. talking points (largely audience-initiated) included:

• colonization of mars (raised multiple times)
• syphilis
  
• copernicus
• alien invasion

trust me, it wasn't nearly as interesting as it sounds.

just in case you were wondering.

here's how the writers' strike has affected the future of your favorite primetime shows.

i am taking the call to refresh the page quite seriously. we're talking about the future of my nightlife, here.

(why is one tree hill still on the air? does anyone really believe chad michael murray as a novelist? i dvr it, but still. that doesn't mean it should be on the air)

what i like-like about valentine's day.

like any good american, i ♥ the presents of course! especially when they consist of creepy dehumanized body parts as stand-ins for actual human interaction:

i'm not judging.

what i love this valentine's day.

...is being (price) discriminated against myself. apparently yahoo bizarro c (recipient of the offer on the right) has way more money to throw around than student bizarro c (recipient of the offer on the left).

i can only hope that i one day live up to my aspirational yahoo lifestyle. word.

there must be something they're not telling us.

sometimes i wonder if the good people at pottery barn have a secret internal competition to see what they can dupe the mass market into buying. this is how i imagine the go-to-market conversation going down...

the champion of the giant wooden scissors would kick it off with a sales pitch:

"you will not BELIEVE the scale on these things! thin is in, am i right? well these giant scissors will make any book you own look downright TINY. while also offsetting your yuppie blueprint wallpaper."

then the compass guy would chime in:

"you amateur. you obviously haven't harnessed the power of nostalgia that will inspire people to buy ANYTHING they used as a child. even mathematical instruments. nevermind that it has two points and no giant pencil like an actual compass would. these dummies don't care about faithful reproductions. because it's A HUGE COMPASS. and AWESOME."

feeling the need to trumpet her own contribution, the clothespin lady would weigh in:

"some people might think we're trying to go high brow and create a claus oldenburg reproduction for the middle class. and i guess we're ok with that."

"but really, we just want to show that sometimes, you forget that the laundry room is a laundry room despite having a visible washer/dryer set and a giant hamper in the middle of the room. sometimes, you need four huge, obsolete clothespins on the wall to remind you. i'm just saying."

finally, the wing man puts an end to the debate:

"FACT: my freshly harvested angel wings on a stick are sparkly. FACT: americans love sparkly everything. GENERALIZATION: therefore, americans will love my gilded wing-on-a-stick. and double therefore, i own you."

(this random act of sarcasm has been brought to you by my 37th attempt to dodge doing any homework today)