It’s come to my attention that I drink more often than the average person. This is how you know you’re on my level:

1. When you fill your Brita before you leave and put it next to your bed with a glass for preemptive hangover prevention measures. Plus when I’m drunk and thirsty, my drunkness always wins over, and I won’t want to get up and I’ll end up dehydrating.

2. When you have a lot of broken things that have no explanation to why they’re broken. For example, last week, I ruined the zipper to my favorite shorts. I am a bit distraught about it.

3. When all social events are initiated with the phrases “Happy hour?” or “Let’s drink!”

4. You’re the mayor of a bar on Foursquare. You are reading the blog of the mayor of KTown Bar.

5. When two of your friends become acquainted with each other, and one tells the other that he doesn’t drink, and she says, “How are you even friends with Mary then?”

6. When your friend hits you up on Facebook chat at 1AM with “OMFG you’re home?”

7. When you’re actually not home when they send that message.

8. When people don’t ask you how your weekend was. Instead they ask, “What bar did you go to this weekend?”

9. When you’ve gone to work hungover more than three times in the last month.

It’s a problem, but YOLO.

Needless to say, I’m heading out now to get my drink on.

So this weekend, I celebrated my best friend’s birthday. He turned 22 on Monday. He felt like it was such an unepic age, so he didn’t want to party. I had been asking him for weeks prior to his birthday what he was going to do, and his response was, “Nothing. 22 is nothing to celebrate.” He has a girlfriend so I thought she’d plan something for him, especially since she’s on thin ice.

It wasn’t until a week before his birthday that she decided to start planning. For someone who knows that this is make or break, I thought she took it pretty carelessly. My best friend’s main reason for wanting to break up is the fact that she’s bad at planning, and every date she plans is ruined by her carelessness. Holy shit, was he right. She is SO BAD at planning. She asked me to help her plan, and it was so frustrating.

First of all, I’m her boyfriend’s best friend, but she asks me to help her plan. It leaves a bad impression when you are struggling so hard to plan something. She should have consulted HER best friend if anything. But I digress.

She told me that she wanted to have a dinner for him and his “closest friends.” I ask her who she has on the guest list, and she lists off about twenty people. .____.” I just took charge from there. I cut about 7 people from the list. Half of them were HER friends, and not my best friend’s, so why invite them to a dinner of just his closest friends? I then ask her where she’s thinking of eating. She tells me Ktown. .____.” What place in Ktown is going to hold a large group of people? And why Ktown? There’s absolutely nothing special about Ktown. We go there every weekend to drink/drunkenly eat. I eventually suggest her find something in Lower East Side because she wants to drink afterward, but can’t afford a table at a lounge. There are plenty of restaurant/lounges in LES, so that would probably be the best choice. Dinner, then stay for drinks after. Pop a couple bottles, whatever. I suggest some really good places, but since it was so last minute, there were no reservations available. She finally finds something, but she didn’t do enough research on it, and when we get there, we find out it’s a tapas place… Tapas is so awkward in a large group.

Two days before the surprise, she hits me up telling me to get a cake for him, as she’ll be with him all day because of their six month. Okay… you couldn’t ask your best friend who is coming to the party? She said thanks before I even responded, so I was stuck with this fucking girlfriend duty. I was stuck with ALL THE GIRLFRIEND DUTIES. He’s my best friend, so I don’t care, but still. Fucking annoying.

I went through so much shit trying to get that cake for him. I realized that she probably didn’t order the cake ahead of time, so I call in a couple hours beforehand the day of to see if they had the cake she wanted. They shuffled around looking in their inventory and found three. I asked them to reserve, and they said they couldn’t over the phone. I told them I’d be there in twenty minutes. I show up twenty minutes later, and the cake isn’t in the display shelf, so I ask the cashier if they have any. He tells me that if it’s not in the display, they don’t have any. I told him about the phone call I made twenty minutes ago and asked them to check again. They found one. Then, this woman comes out of nowhere, and asks to exchange the cake she just bought for the one they found, since she supposedly was there half an hour ago and asked for that specific cake and they told her they didn’t have it. Me being the person I am, I fight with her, telling her I pressed for the cake, and that if it wasn’t for me, she never would have known. And she keeps bitching and bitching, and I’m seriously trying so hard to hold down my anger. Now, most of the cashiers are male, and they want to give it to me, but there was one female cashier who wanted to give it to the woman. Freaking women make my life much more difficult than need be. In the end they had to consult the manager, who handed the cake to the lady, and the manager asked me to wait 5-10 minutes. MAGICALLY THEY FOUND ANOTHER CAKE. They definitely had all three but told us they only had one to save face. The female worker handed me the cake and scolded me, telling me that even in twenty minutes they can sell out. I said, “Yeah yeah yeah. I just asked to look again. Treat your customers better.”

So at the restaurant, I end up planning everything for the cake. I told the waiter when to bring it out, tipped the waiter for it, and everything. The fucking girlfriend doesn’t even thank me or offer to pay me back for the cake. The thing is, I don’t mind paying for it, but out of fucking courtesy, she should have offered. She’s so fucking incompetent. She has no sense of common courtesy.

The reason she couldn’t get the cake was because she was going on a date with him for their six months. She planned a date to go to Central Park and ride the boats. 1. Koreans (like my best friend) think riding a boat with your girlfriend is bad luck. 2. She didn’t plan well enough, and the boats were closed for the day. WORST PLANNER EVER.

But through this, I realize I’m a much better girlfriend that most out there. Just saying.

It’s been generally accepted that women wear revealing clothing so long as its cleavage or leg. It’s socially acceptable for a woman to wear a mini skirt or short shorts as long as her ass isn’t showing. Same goes for for a woman wearing a low neck shirt. As long as there is no nipple, it’s cool. But the thing is, those are two assets I do not have. I have a nice stomach and a nice ass. But I seemed to be judged quite often when I’m bearing my stomach, and it’s extremely inappropriate to show a bit of ass cheek. Why must I hide my best assets when busty, leggy chicks can bare all?

UNFAIR. I WILL CONTINUE TO BARE MY MID-DRIFT UNTIL IT BECOMES SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE.

Outfit of the day. Time to get Shake Shack! I have such a bad craving.

Happy Father’s Day to the most badass dad ever.

Ping pong champion awwwh yeah.

@Benelliman tagged me, so here I go.  It was pretty hard since I’m terrible at lying. 

1. My favorite drink is gin and tonic.
2. I recently started playing Gunbound, and I’m a bit addicted to it.
3. I would never ever ever ever get plastic surgery.
4. My first “boyfriend” was black, and by “boyfriend” I mean one in high school that doesn’t count.
5. I have dabbled in online/LDR dating.
6. I used to debate in high school.  I went to debate meets every weekend.  As a freshman, I was runner up to go to Nationals.
7. On weekends I didn’t debate, I did quiz bowl, and went to National Science Bowl.
8. Most of the guys I’ve been interested in are Korean.
9. I’ve never been to Vietnam.
10. I used to be the most popular member on a now defunct asian Myspace type site, and the founder personally thanked me for being a part of the site.
11. I’ve only received flowers three times in my life: once when I was in the hospital, once on a first date, and once as a “please don’t break up with me” gesture.
12. When I was 15, I had surgery to remove an ovarian cyst.  It was 10 x 15 cm and 10 lbs.
13. I used to swim and figure skate. 
14. I can’t watch KDrama unless both the male and female leads are attractive. 
15. I’m the fattest out of all my siblings.
16. I hate school, and I hate work.  I just want to drop out of school and marry a good looking, successful man.  #housewifeystatus
17. I don’t work out.
18. Raffles are basically the most exciting thing in the world.
19. I have a crush on a Xangan.
20. I slept in my parents bed until I was 9.
21. I deathly afraid of ghosts.  I’ve had three encounters with them.
22. One of the biggest reasons I don’t care to have a boyfriend is that my guy friends treat me much better than any of my boyfriends ever have.
23. I have an obsession with lingerie.
24. I can cook pho.

I’m not going to tag anyone because it’s so bothersome, but if you want to do it, I tag you. I’m probably not going to post the answer publicly. If you wanna know just ask privately.

@flipguy31o sent me a postcard. He offered me food if I ever come to LA. He’s officially the best Xangan until a better offer surfaces.

I don’t remember who I told this to, but this is the asshole that verbally harassed me about his apparently huge dick.

So, I’m blessed with very very many awkward moments in my life. Aside from the situations I get myself into, I have other really hilarious stories of shit that happens to me. Here is installment number one.

I’m returning to NYC after my winter break, and like always, I overpack like an idiot. I didn’t even go out at all during break, but I just had so much fucking clothes. I had to reapportion my stuff in Nebraska, so I end up coming back to NYC with my obnoxiously huge, hot pink suitcase, a carry on, a shopping bag, and my purse.

Because of security reasons, the taxi can’t drop me off right in front of my apartment since I live on Wall Street. I tow my luggage about three blocks uphill, which usually isn’t bad, but with that much luggage, I take about three breaks before arriving in front of my building. There’s a kind man taking a smoke break or something outside and helps me with my luggage. In the course of this, the shopping bag falls off my luggage, and of course, because I was too lazy to pack my bras in my carry on, I stuffed them in this shopping bag. The contents of this bag spill out. BRAS EVERYWHERE. The man reaches for the spilled contents, then soon realizes that they’re bras. He hesitates, then reaches for them faster than I can compose myself and stop him. Awkwardness ensues.