Grace: man, you’re awesome
did i ever tell you that?
’cause you need to be told that
OFTEN
me: not nearly enough, im afraid
Grace: you’re AWESOME

Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who wished me Happy Birthday. It made me feel very special, despite the fact that I apparently share the same birthday with Michelle Obama. But that is neither here, nor there.

This year’s midnight-1am line up:
1) Long (12:04 phone call)
2) Tin (12:13 google talk)
3) Jerry (12:13 text- oooh so close but texts have lag time)
4) Chris Do (12:15 facebook)
5) Michael Ha (12:21 facebook)
6) Christina (12:22 facebook- oooh close one. But you did have a longer message…)
7) Doan (12:26 facebook)

That is, if time stamps are to be depended on. Which, I say they are. Thanks again everyone!

Long: Nah, I already know what I’m getting you for Christmas.
Linh: Ooh what is it?
Long: I’m not telling, but I’ve already decided. It’s on sale at the dollar store!
Linh: What.
Long: Hard times, hard times.

grace:
i saw a girl today on campus
and i know it’s rude
but her outfit kinda smacked me
i had to stop and stare
like… reached out and smacked

me: verbal portrait please?

grace: lol
oh… sit back
and get ready to get smacked

her hair
let’s start with her hair
she was a dark, dark brunette
and she bleached it blonde
with like… 4 inch roots showing
and it was in desperate need of a deep conditioning treatment
like.. if you looked straight at her face
it made a triangle
it was so frizzy the bottoms stuck out

me: i want to photoshop this now…

grace:lol
and to top it off
she had this big … red… flower in her hair
on the side like to pull her bangs back
like…. at least 6 inches in diameter
so you got this red flower in this bleached blonde brunette frizzy hair
like… bird sanctuary frizzy
and she has this really pale complexion
like… extremely pale palor
and she’s like… ridiculously skinny
so roughly a size 0-2
buuuut
blood red lipstick
and a lemon yellow t-shirt
with a denim skirt
mini skirt
and her shoes…
oh goodness her shoes
they were black reebok high top sneakers
with black cotton socks

i… stared
oh i stared
it was like a car accident
i know i should look away, but i couldn’t
i swear, she was just walking
but her outfit just violated my sense of what’s right in the world

me: did she also have some atrocious red crocodile skin purse

grace: hahahahhahaa
silver metallic clutch
and like.. a red backpack i think

grace: oh dang…
that’s…almost a dead ringer
lol
like… creepily so

Almost makes you want to transcibe it into a poem, eh? Tune in next time for another edition of Fasion Police. I daresay we could fill gigs with the atrocities out there.

I will take gratitude over money, ANYDAY.

Unless of course I really really really need money. Even then, that’s 3 really’s.

(not my picture, by the way. cool though, eh?)

If there is anything I’ve learned these past 4 years in college, it’s that pseudo-commuting SUCKS. By pseudo-commuting, I mean I have an apartment at school, but I go home every weekend to stay at my parents place.

To be honest, it didn’t always suck. The whole appeal to the system was that I could have my cake and eat it at the same time. I’m at school an hour away from home. Far enough to justify my own place where I can have the good ol’ college freedom dream. But close enough to head home anytime, do laundry for free, and stock up on food. And it was just that. I had mama’s homemade cake, and I got to eat it how I wished, whenever I liked.

And then year 3 and 4 set in. Granted years 1 and 2 made me a pro at packing light and moving myself back and forth between Dallas and Arlington. I rarely forgot anything, and usually made my whole move in just one trip to the car. Eventually I wanted to streamline my carry-alongs and next thing you know, I have 2 sets of shampoo and conditioner, 2 deoderant sticks, 2 toothbrushes, 2 libraries, 2 piles of jeans, 2 drawers full of underwear–heck, I even have 2 sets of the EXACT SAME camisoles and tanks I like to wear, just because I never know which city I’ll want to wear them in. And of course, I am a little hamster for organization, so it was never a hassle. Pajamas are color-coded. Undies are separated by brand. I know exactly which are to remain in Dallas, and which to bring to Arlington, and just like that, everything is effortlessly divied up between homes.

Fortunately toiletries and tanks are cheap. The snag comes when friends, family, and responsibilities call me to other places–and frankly, I just can’t stop by Walmart at 2:00am and pick up another Linh for them (Cool as that would be. Maybe.). And nobody wants half a friend–which is both comforting and sad at the same time. Arlington buddies who want to hang out on the weekends are telling me to cut the umbllical cord. Dallas friends don’t see me at all outside of church and work. With the exception of a few stolen moments, I’m ping-ponging back and forth before I want to leave.

The overall resulting effect is that I feel uprooted and disconnected. I’m not stressed, I’m not unhappy, there’s just something inside of me that repels this city two-timing life, and like a pimple, I just wanna pop it and make it go away. I also want to know which place I left my brown belt at… kinda wanted to wear that today. =/ I think I’ve realized it for a long time, but it’s not until now that I had the leisure to time to hash out my feelings via blogging. Fortunately these are the years I had Long around. He’s out of town no matter where I am. Which is a nice constant to have. =)

Or maybe my clock is ticking and I just wanna settle down and knit gosh dangit. But I can’t yet! Optometry school is nearing, and be it Houston or Tennessee, there will be no more pseudo-commuting. So to prepare for that time, as a new epiphany’s resolution (New Years Resolutions are SO last year), I am going to train up some young un’s *cough Hobbit, cough Ann* to take up my duties at church, so as to make a smooth exit. And let me take this moment to also apologize to everyone who has had to put up with my… disconnectedness (aka shirking my responsibilities). I will try harder (God willing). Afterall, it is my penance for having my cake and eating it at the same time.

But it really was good cake. You know, the kind that’s not too sweet, real soft and fluffy. Mmm! Or I could start to really commute. That’s a thought. Gas is getting cheap… HmmMm….

As an aside note, this whole experience made me think of those kids I knew whose parents were divorced and they were shuffled between mom and dad’s house every other week all their childhood. I used to think it was cool they had two houses. No. Not cool. Don’t EVER raise your kids that way!