That Time I Didn’t Fall In Love On A Plane

I wrote this in February of 2017 and never published it, probably because it felt too personally revealing to share.  But now that time has passed and I can look back on it and laugh, I figure I’ll share it with you so you, too, can laugh.  I am no longer single so hell has already frozen over, and I can’t even remember what this guy looked like.



Whenever people ask me why I don’t write anymore, I tell them it’s because I don’t have anything to say.  I still sit down and start to try to tap out a story now and then, but it usually falls apart when I stop and ask myself “what is my point?,”, or “who the hell cares about this?” or “is this sharing too much about a person in my life who may read it and be less than thrilled I’m posting about it?” and I abandon it.

But finally, friends, something happened.  A something that made me stop and say to myself, “this may actually get me writing again.” Minimal risk of the person it involves discovering it, but even if he does, my fucks given are lost somewhere in the ether.

And so here it is: my adorable plane love story….. that was not.  AT ALL.

A few weeks ago I ended up going on an impromptu work trip to NYC.  Only 2 nights, and I was scheduled to be out early the following day.  I packed light and my physical appearance upon arriving at LAX for my 10AM flight could best be described as greasy chic.  I sailed through security thanks to the blessing that is TSA pre-check, and took my far too sweet vanilla latte and egg & cheese breakfast wrap to sit at my gate.

As I glanced around, my eye stopped on a guy that was so attractive it made me pick up my phone to text my friend, Kim, about it.  (Hay Kim.)  This is a thing that does not happen often in my world.

There is a hot guy at my gate.





I Don’t Use Humor As A Shield What Are You Talking About

I was not a funny kid, but I always liked comedy.  My cousin and I would get Domino’s and watch Dana Carvey and George Carlin stand up before we were old enough to understand it.  We were drawn to anything that had the potential to amuse us. Our childhoods weren’t all that great, you see!

Back then I was a hideously shy, quiet girl who took everything personally.  I went to a tiny school in a tiny town with a bunch of bored kids.  Bullying was a common pastime, and I was an easy target.  I was too skinny, my ears stuck out, and I never fought back.  I was berated for my looks, for using words that were too big (I carried around a pocket thesaurus for years — the equivalent to putting a kick me sign on my own back), for finishing my tests too fast, and for getting good grades.  This is not a humblebrag – none of that shit gets you liked in school. I had been praised so much for doing well in school by my family that I’d never risk disappointing them by slacking off, but I wanted desperately to be liked and accepted by my peers. (more…)


Pop Tarts Just Got Sexy

You've been bad, haven't you?

Who’s a naughty little pop tart?  You are.  mmmmmhmmm

I’ve had a computer since I was roughly 10.  I used to write all the time, and while a lot of the evidence has been lost over the years, plenty of stuff is still in existence on my current computer.  Examples include AIM conversations from high school, all the way through college (if you’re a boy and we talked a lot, I have so many conversations saved between us still – horrible, horrible conversations), diary entries of sorts, and stunning papers I wrote in college.  I’m going to share one of my crowning achievements with you now.  I wrote the following for Freshman Comp on 9/12/2001 at SUNY New Paltz, one day after 9/11.  Let this be a lesson to everyone that a national disaster can do some weird things to your creative output levels.  Judging by whatever this is, I’m guessing the assignment was to try to induce a boner while describing food packaging.  Here is the completely unedited version of what I came up with: (more…)


My Father, My Aunt & What Their Deaths Taught Me

Christmas - Dad, Mom & I

Dad, Mom & me – Christmas at some point when I was still a tiny, Asian child


My dad passed away in 1993, when I had just turned 10 years old.  His sister, also obviously my aunt, passed away this past weekend.  Both of them died as a result of their own actions.  In my father’s case, it was intentional.  In my aunt’s, years of substance and alcohol abuse had only one exit option – whether she clearly intended for it to happen at the time it did or not, she knew she was slowly killing herself. (more…)


The Pop Up

the pop up text


Women: I’m not going to ask you if this sounds familiar, because I already know it does.

You’re going about your merry business, your phone buzzes and, thinking nothing of it, you glance at it and a name pops up that throws your brain on its ass.  The name of a person with whom you shared some sort of history with, but is no longer a regular part of your life.  Maybe things ended fine, maybe they ended a little ???, or maybe they ended downright terribly.

Regardless of where things were left, their name popping up incites a dizzying mixture of surprise/excitement/nausea/despair/elation/fury/spastic eroticism/heartburn and before you even attempt to formulate a response, you start a new text to one of your friends saying, “GUESS WHO JUST FUCKIN TEXTED ME.” (more…)