Tag Archives: bitching

Specifically Unspecific

To be quite frank, I never had any intention to transform my blog into a political blog.  Fundamentally speaking, this is not a forum solely devoted to political discussion and/or rants.  However, the nomination of Sarah Palin has made it too difficult for me to avoid lambasting the judgment of Johnny Mac.

Yesterday, for the first time since the Gibson debacle, Palin spoke without the aid of a teleprompter.  Surrounded by supporters, she was given the opportunity to finally put to rest the notion that she does not have sufficient foreign policy experience.  The question:

“There’s been quite a bit of discussion about your perceived lack of foreign policy experience.  I want to give you your chance.  If you could please respond to that criticism and give us specific skills that you think you have to bring to the White House to rebut that or mitigate that concern.”

Below, I give you Palin’s response:

So let’s examine the specifics provided by Palin:

1.  She is a “Washington outsider.”

2.  She “thinks” she is prepared.

3.  She is “confident” and has the “readiness.”

4.  She says that people can ask her for specific policies.

So, Sarah Palin’s foreign policy skills boil down to the fact that she lives in Wasilla and is confident that she can take on foreign issues.  And as for specifics, well, she would like people to ask her about specifics because she will then tell you that she would like people to ask her about specifics.

As my blog makes abundantly clear, I love analogies.  Let’s imagine that you have a nasty little tumor that needs to be excised.  You’re looking for a skilled surgeon to take on that task.  You ask one finalist:

“There’s been quite a bit of discussion about your perceived lack of surgical experience.  I want to give you your chance.  If you could please respond to that criticism and give us specific skills that you think you have to rid me of the tumor, and rebut or mitigate that concern.”

And imagine if you received this analogous response:

“Well, I’m a medical outsider.  I certainly think I’m prepared and I am confident that I have the readiness to remove that tumor.  As for specific methods I would employ or techniques I would use to return you to health, you can ask me about specifics so you can Stump the Doc!”

I don’t know about you.  But I’d show this Doc out the door.  Seriously, I’d expect the Doc to tell me how he or she went to Harvard Medical School and did a fellowship in oncology; how he or she had performed such operation with success dozens of times before me.  10-year olds playing Operation probably would be “confident” and think they are prepared to remove a tumor.  Perhaps Barracuda is confused about the word “specifics.”  Tell me Sarah–what are the specific ways in which you will prevent nucular proliferation?

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Filed under Personal Pontification, WTF?

Thank You in Advance

For everyone who has and who will say “Bless You” to me, I thank you in advance. For the last week, I have been suffering from intolerable allergies, causing fluid to careen out of my nostrils and down my throat. My eyes are swollen–if I had a larger forehead and was 1 foot shorter, I perhaps could pass as Christina Ricci. I wonder if any retakes need to be done for the Black Snake Moan movie? . . .

The culprit is the dreaded weed. I am, quite unfortunately, terribly allergic to weeds. When weed allergens were placed on my arm by my allergist’s assistant, my arm proceeded to immediately balloon, making it virtually impossible for the allergist to determine the degree to which I was allergic to each particular weed, as each weal melded into adjacent weals, forming one gigantic and itchy red sore traveling down the length of my forearm. It was sexy, to say the least.

So here is my proclamation. Who the hell needs weeds anyway? I mean, does anyone ever go up to weeds and say, “Oh Junior – look at those weeds! They’re beautiful!” On Valentine’s Day, do you ever see men run down to the local flower shop to pick out a bunch of weeds? I think not! To the next President, I ask that a portion of the budget be devoted to the elimination of the useless greenery that has declared war upon my body. Hell, if Johnny Mac were to make me this promise, I might even consider voting for the Maverick and could possibly be the one Virginia vote that changes history . . .

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Filed under Life, Things I Loathe

O Doctor, Where Art Thou?

I just wasted an hour of my life attempting to find a doctor.  It is May 20.  I was told, on multiple occasions, that a particular doctor’s first available appointment would be in September.

First available?  In September?  Are you kidding me?  The DC area is flooded with doctors and lawyers, and your first available is in September?  Is it that there are proportionally too many lawyers, and lawyers take too much time in your office?  I’d like to tell one of my clients that my first available appointment to talk is in September.

In no other profession can someone legitimately say that their first available is 4 months away.  Imagine you called Gold’s for a personal trainer and was told that the first available would be in September.  Or if you tried to book a flight and the airlines told you the first available would be 3 months after your friend’s wedding in Hawaii.  Or if you needed maid service, and Molly Maids said the dirt can wait until the fall.  And these examples don’t involve your health (ok, maybe dirt and personal trainer do, but whatever).  So doctors, I boycott you.

Damn it.  I can’t.  I need them.  Argh!!!!  I will remain in silent protest then.  When you tell me to open wide and say “Ahhh,” I will do so with the intention of sticking my tongue out at you.  When you ask me take deep breaths as you listen to my heart, my middle finger will figuratively be pointing at you.  And if you need an attorney, my first available is in September, biatch.

Sigh.

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Filed under Life, Personal Pontification, Things I Loathe, WTF?

Why California kicks some serious ass

Although some analysts believe that voters will undo the effect of this ruling, the California Supreme Court ruled today that the state’s ban on same-sex marriage violates the Constitution. Can I get a “duh” please?

I give two thumbs up to the 4 justices who issued this monumental ruling in the 4-3 decision. The ruling went up to the California Supreme Court from Superior Court Judge Richard Kramer, who ruled that the ban on same-sex marriage violated the “basic right to marry a person of one’s choice.” Approximately 50 years ago, when states banned interracial marriage, the California Supreme Court was the first to declare that ban unconstitutional. At the time, no doubt hundreds of thousands of Americans found such a ruling abhorrent and immoral; and the same will probably hold true for this ruling. Different people have different views on marriage. For some, it’s religious; for some, it’s spiritual; and for some, it’s to get a tax break (I kid, I kid). Whatever the reason, the mere fact that someone else’s marriage may be antithetical to what you believe marriage to encompass does not mean that the government should deprive one couple of rights that it affords to others.

And come on. Dumb and dumber can head to Vegas and get hitched by Elvis and create 10 crack-head children. Are you going to legislate that too?

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Filed under Life, Personal Pontification

Restaurant Advertising

I’m no expert, but somehow I think the name of a restaurant can be a make-it-or-break-it factor in the ultimate success or failure of a new culinary venture.  Take the restaurant across the street from my hotel.  It’s called LA Pizza and boasts “real L.A. pizza!”  Umm . . . I lived in LA.  Unless you’re going to CPK to partake of pizza that isn’t really pizza, LA pizza kind of sucks.  It’s usually soggy, overly cheesy, and just kind of chewy.  Although normally I would jump at the chance of eating pizza on a business trip (because you can eat any damn thing you want on a business trip), I avoided this pizza joint solely because of the name.  What other restaurant names would be similar to LA Pizza?

Bobby Joe’s Gourmet Chinese, Wisconsin Lobster Emporium, Mama Ming’s Italian Palace, Bombay’s Best Burgers . . .

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Filed under Personal Pontification

I am bored

Yesterday, at the end of the day, I looked down at my clock to see that it was 3:14 p.m. I sighed in disbelief. After what felt like an eternity, I had only been sitting at my desk for 7 hours. Sigh. Then, to add insult to my self-inflicted injury, I realized it was Monday. And I thought it was Wednesday. Believing it’s Wednesday when it’s actually Monday is one of the most disheartening things–something that can crush your spirit for the rest of the week. Why is it that I never have the opposite feeling, e.g. on a Friday, being pleasantly surprised that it’s not a Monday? Why oh why can’t I go to work one day and think, “Boy, Mondays sure suck. By golly gee, I can’t wait for Monday to be over,” and then have someone tell me at 5:00 p.m., “Hey! What are you doing this weekend? It’s Friday! Get the hell out of here!”

Ugh. Such is life.

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Filed under Legal Woes, Things I Loathe

Banana Republic clothes are made for supermodels

Disclaimer: I am in no way suggesting that I am a supermodel. I am far from it. I eat cows, chickens, pigs, and fish. Hell, I’m Chinese/Taiwanese–I eat parts of that cow, chicken, pig, and fish that you didn’t know existed. I eat ice cream. I eat cookies. I box. I lift weights. And I don’t throw up voluntarily. Supermodel, I am not.

However, I do love Banana Republic. Their clothes are of relatively high quality, but I don’t vomit when I see the price tag (usually). However, I have come to the conclusion that their pants only fit women who are 6 feet tall. I’ve never received a pair of BR pants that don’t require alterations. Now I’m pretty tall for being a chick (5′ 8″ with my shoes on, thank you very much). But when I put on BR pants, I suddenly feel like I’m a 10-year old wearing mommy’s clothing and perhaps with a gangload of lipstick all over my face and curlers all up in my hair. Wait. That’s not me. That’s some movie I saw. I never did the wear mommy’s lipstick thing as a kid. Although, I did do the mini hair-bear thing. You know what I’m talking about–you were alive in the 80s (and if you weren’t, you suck and you make me feel old). I took the front part of my hair and made it go just high enough on my head to create a little wave. Kind of like this, but much tamer (since I have flat, straight Asian hair). Thank you Ms. Jackson, I think you’re nasty:

Ms. Jackson if you\'re nasty!

Then I sprayed a shit-load of 89 cent Aquanet all over that beauty until it crusted over. If anyone touched the wave, the Aquanet would flake off, creating a snowstorm of nasty, crusty, hair product. In fact, if anyone tells you they once saw snow in the California Bay Area in the late 80s or early 90s, that wasn’t snow. It was some pre-pubescent chick’s nasty ass wad of hair. Imagine that on a California holiday card. Just put a bunch of hair bear chicks in a treehouse. Plant the family underneath. Hair bear chicks shake their crusty scalps, and voila! It’s a White F*cking Christmas.

Anyways, I digress. I have to go to the tailor today to get my pants altered. Because supermodel, I am not.

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Filed under Fashion, Things I Loathe