I will first and for most state this: I have Asian pride. I am proud to be Chinese, and I have never and will never ever wish that I was any other race. I am proud of my race, despite our flaws. We have come a long way, however, so have other minority races, so this does not make us better than or different from the rest.

Now I say this: I hate going to Asian social events. It's not because Asians go to these things, it's the type of Asians these events tend to attract. From hereonin this entry, when I refer to these types of Asians, I refer to the following: Although most of them were born, bred or raised in North America, they somehow detach themselves from their actual nationality and become stuck-up sons of bitches who feel like we have to band together to fight an imaginary war of foolish pride and petty differences from the rest of the world. I will probably first define myself by my nationality and then my ethnicity, because although being ethnically Asian is part definition of myself, politically- and socially-speaking, I do hold a lot more 'Canadian' values over say, Asian values.

At my age, I am only lucky to find several people who still have the energy and will to go clubbing. I know, I know. Sooner or later my age will catch up with my brain and I will outgrow this phase, but just let me have my stupid fun for now. The select few that I am able to go clubbing with happen to be mostly Asian, and they always want to "go where the Asians are". Here comes my Pet Peeve with Asians #1: Asian guys only want Asian girls. It drives me insane, because not only have they not even bothered to try to even hit on girls of different races, they won't even consider it because they have a pre-conceived notion that there's no point. Apparently being Asian is a losing factor. This is not to say that all Asian guys are like this (and I applaud those who aren't) but I haven't found alot that aren't like this.

Pet Peeve with Asians #2: We all look the same. And I'm not just talking about our basic features: almond-shaped squinty eyes, mono lids, flat faces, unbridged noses, pale yellow skin tone, black hair. I'm talking about how we all present ourselves as individuals (which ironically, makes us become the opposite). On women, thick black winged eyeliner (to hide the mono lid), dyed reddish-brown hair, stick-straight thinned hair, short-ass skirts, tall black heels (hardly see any other colour), fake eye lashes, some sort of black dress. On men: Affliction or Ed Hardy shirts (hatehatehate!)/some other tight t-shirt (black and/or white only), a belt with an obnoxious buckle, spiked black hair, silver chain (are we still rocking these circa 2000?), one earring, and a fucking Blackberry. Individuality will get you nowhere in these crowds.

Every race has their stereotypes, and we would be lying to deny that they are just that. To say that stereotypes are horrible lies, is like denying that there is any weakness in one's race. That's just foolish pride. Too many of these types of Asians have this pride so far up their ass that their perception of a 'real' Asian becomes a monotonous pattern of conformity and in-distinction. I recently had the disgusting pleasure of socializing with said individuals and I wanted to throw punches.

In a nutshell, their perception of how an Asian should 'be' truly gave me a moment of embarrassment that we came from the same ancestors. One thing that really irked me was their notion that Asian women are generally to be a certain height (not much taller than 5 feet) and of a certain size (petite, not much heavier than 100 lbs). I admit, I do conform to most of these ratios (but I have wonderfully shaped boobs and ass, no lyin'), but I know plenty of Asian women who don't and I thought these statements were truly blasphemous and ignorant. We are all creatures of Mother Nature and in the wild, these so-called bigger Asian women would eat us petite Asian bitches alive. If an Asian woman has the same body type of say, a white woman, does that make her less Asian?

Why do flat-chested, no-ass Asian chicks have to hate on us proportionately-size chested and booty-shaking Asian chicks?

Pet Peeve with Asians #3: Materialism. It's not the fact that we want to be seen with certain material goods, it's the lengths that one will go through to at least look it. It's no wonder that Asia is the largest exporters of counterfeit designer goods. The amount of fake Guccis and Louis I see at clubs is truly laughable.

My list of Peeves can go on and on and while it might sound like I am disgusted with my race, I am only really disgusted with certain individuals of my race. Similarly, there are probably these types of individuals in other races, and they would probably drive me as crazy as much as the Asian ones do. I should really cluster these sorts into one category for the sake of argument: Sheeple.

They say that a woman's sexual prime is 30, and a man's is 18 (or something like that).  I guess I can understand the biology behind the age of a sexual prime, but where is there an age-logic behind a dating prime?

I recently went out with "O" the other night.  We didn't really do much, just the typical first-meeting 'date': coffee and a tour of his studio.  I think it's safe to say I am smitten.  However, I have a feeling that this guy is going to break my petty heart.  I met him online years ago and didn't actually meet him until the other night.  How do I know he will break my heart after only meeting him once (and hundreds of text messages later)?  Because he's so pretty.

I also met a bar-back (let's call him "T") a few weeks ago, and we've so far gone on a couple of dates.  He lives up North and is from a small town.  I like him.  I don't fully know how I feel about small-town folks, but they are of a different breed.

Tomorrow, I've got a date with "S".  He kind of persisted for awhile, and I finally agreed to at least go out with him, at least just this once (what can I say?  I'm a sucker for giving chances).

Before you start judging me for bragging about my so-called exciting dating life, I must mention one thing that all of these guys have in common:  they are all under the age of 22. 

Don't say it.  Don't say that word that starts with a "C" and rhymes with Dougar.  Don't you dare say it.

How?  How does this happen?  Is there a shortage of girls somewhere?  Does it read "Desperate for a Date...any date" on my forehead?  Am I that short (short enough to be a teenager)?

I guess for anyone else, age isn't really a number and would've not thought twice about refusing to go out with someone 5 years younger than them, but hey.  I am willing to try anything once.  Or twice.  Or thrice (three dates is usually how long it takes me to decide if I wanna keep seeing someone).

So far, the 'experience' has been humbling.  They treat me well, and they seem to keep coming back for more.  I just wonder what I can really offer to them.

Guess what? I'm blogging from my phone. Yeah, I caved and got one of those phones. Well, I didn't mean to. I was given the opportunity to upgrade my phone and my LG 360 of 6 months was giving me grief. This is what I get for straying away from my beloved and oh-so-reliable Motorolas. I had a choice between a Blackberry and a touchscreen phone. I like substantiability (is that a word?) and to me touchscreens are the least substabtial technology I've ever heard of. And anyone who knows me, knows that I think Blackberrys are the root of all evils and I would no sooner sport a fake Louis than be caught with one (or as Vicki thinks, I'm just "trying to be different"). So, I settled for an LG Eve. Yes, it is a touchscreen but it also has a pull out QWERTY keyboard, which is what I need, so in a way its a bit more 'substantial' than an iTouch (ughhhh don't get me started on those). I guess I've opened myself up to change for once. Intead of being one of those people who get annoyed at people who have to Google EVERYTHING, I'll be the first to look up random, useless shit just to win arguments, which I'm starting to realize is starting to hinder my social life...

Listen, today makes it a year
Don't you think it's time that you made it clear
You gotta get on your biz
Tell me what it ain't or what it is
I can handle it

I've had it up to here
I don't wanna pressure you dear
I've sent back to back dudes
Away from my door
Thinking I was spoken for
Not anymore

[Chorus]
And I'm tired
I'm tired
I'm tired
Of being your
(Your) Unofficial girl
Unofficial girl
And I'm tired
I'm tired of trying
(Ooh but I'm still your)
I'm still your unofficial girl

(You gotta learn to love me)
You gotta love me in the light and the dark
You gotta give me, give me
All of your heart
I wanna be your official girl
Said I wanna wanna wanna be your (Be your)
Official girl
I wanna be your official girl
I wanna be your official girl
Official girl (Official girl)

[Verse 2]
If you keep this up there's bound to be a mess cause I ain't really like the rest
Put to the test I could surely pass
You better do the math
I'm so stylish
So bossy
It'd be a shame to say you lost me
But if you want that
It's a wrap
And I won't look back
(And I won't look back)

[Chorus]
And I'm tired
I'm tired
I'm tired
Of being your
(Your) Unofficial girl
Unofficial girl
And I'm tired
I'm tired of trying
(Ooh but I'm still your)
I'm still your unofficial girl

(You gotta learn to love me)
You gotta love me in the light and the dark
You gotta give me, give me
All of your heart
I wanna be your official girl
Said I wanna wanna wanna be your (Be your)
Official girl
I wanna be your official girl
I wanna be your official girl
Official girl (Official girl)

I miss you girl
i miss you girl
I'm gonna make you my official girl

[Bridge]
You better act right
I'm two seconds from being out the door

I miss you girl
I miss you girl
I'm gonna make you my official girl

Said I won't be with you unofficially anymore
And I can't make you choose
Long as you're cool on knowing you're bout to blow a good thing
And I ain't making ultimatums I'm gonna tell you this verbatim

And I'm tired
I'm tired
I'm tired
Of being your
(Your) Unofficial girl
And I'm tired
I'm tired of trying
I'm still your (Your) unofficial girl

(You gotta learn to love me)
You gotta love me in the light and the dark
You gotta give me, give me
All of your heart
I wanna be your official girl
Said I wanna wanna wanna be your (Be your)
Official girl
I wanna be your official girl
I wanna be your official girl
Official girl (Official girl)

I miss you girl
I miss you girl
I'm gonna make you my official girl

An excerpt of a conversation I had with a guy I just met...

Me: How old are you?
Him: 21, you?
Me: Guess.
Him: 19?
Me, feeling a little depressed: No, guess again.
Him: 21?
Me, feeling a little more depressed: Okay, I see where this is going. I'll save you time. I'm 26 in one week.
Him: That's soft.
Me: What?
Him: That means it's no worries.
Me: Oh, haha. You kids and your words.

...[awkward pause]

Him: It's just a slang.
Me: Haha, I'm playing. I think even if I was 21, I still wouldn't have got it.

I don't think he believed me. I wonder if that's the last I hear from 'Mr. Softie'...

It's a new year, which means, I turn a year older: I turn 26 in 5 days. Ugh. Ughhhhhhhhhhhh.

And what have I done in my [final] year of my 'youthful' age of 25? Now that I look back on 2009, I probably didn't do as much as I should have. What a waste. I have 5 days to make up for it, I suppose. But if I look back to say, the past 5 years, I really have no regrets (wreckless mistakes and all). I had a good run in my first 25 years of my life, I suppose.

So. A new chapter begins, and oh, how it's beginning.

It's bad enough that I'm reminded that I'm this-much-closer to the very dreaded 3-0, but I'm starting to realize that there are things that now must change, whether I like it or not:

1. Partying

Last week, I realized that perhaps I need not go clubbing every fucking weekend. My hearing has significantly been damaged, the long nights are starting to wear on my skin and I probably will no longer fit into the 'age group' of most of the party-goers who go to the clubs I go to. The partying doesn't necessarily have to stop, but the venues probably have to change...

2. Boys

In relation to the above-noted, last weekend probably gave me a good slap of reality of why going to aforesaid clubs should probably cease. I met a couple of guys and after talking to them this week, I felt like such a fuckin' cougar. All the guys I talked to were no older than 22. However, I did tell them I was turning 26 in a week, but they don't seem to care...

Although I would not completely write it off, my days of 'flinging' are slowing down, but actual dating is picking up. Still casual, but it's a step for someone like me (Vicki calls us types 'obli-phobes'). But if Sex and the City has taught us anything, hooking up doesn't have an age limit. ;)

3. Lifestyle

I've started oil painting classes on Sundays (could I be any older?!) and I'm thinking about taking up writing classes again. Weekends can no longer be days for pissing away.

I'm going to New York City next weekend to live out the rest of my first 25 years and I can't wait. New York City is one of my favourite places in the world, so why not? Although I won't be alone in the city, I am gonna be jet-setting on my own for the first time ever. I absolutely can't wait. Pearson Airport is overwhelming and confusing to me but it'll be an adventure of trying to read a bajillion signs and mad dashes to the gate. Love itttttt. I think I might look into more weekend-only trips this year. Housing-market is going up, so house-hunting for me will be scarce. So much for my Home-Owner-by-26 Plan:/

Dear Blonde-Haired Hoes (from what I could vaguely remember) who sat next to me at 2B shoes at the Eaton Centre,

I hope you're enjoying your new "find", which I guess you'll have to decide between the two of you who will keep the stained and dirty Coach wristlet, the $40 in cash, my now-canceled Visa and debit cards, my Driver's licence, my Health card, various reward cards (thanks for collecting for me), my found-only-in-Hawaii Starbucks collectible card (which is now monetarily useless since I canceled it) and the 3 dozen receipts that I have unreasonably kept.

I have to wonder why you chose me as a target, but I guess I asked for it by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Although I didn't think much of you when you sat rather close to me and felt my purse being nudged, I should have known better than to not keep watch of my shit. It's also my fault for being fairly fatigued from having only 4.5 hours of sleep after a night of partying and a kids' Christmas party to volunteer at the next morning.

I probably wasn't even your only target today, but whatever. You have reinforced my ideas of why I absolutely hate holiday shopping and you have given me a new profound look at humanity and that is that people get more and more petty everyday. Even though an expensive purse doesn't mean much to me in terms of value (although that particular one did have some sentimental value to me), for some reason you believe you are entitled to other people's shit.

In any case, I don't know what horrible thing happened to you in your childhood that has made your mind so messed up that you have resorted to stealing from strangers. I guess I shouldn't bitch, because I've had it pretty good so far (*knock on wood*) and I make no apologies for that. What's done is done, I suppose. I should just be grateful for what I have left: good family, solid friends and reasonably good health (those damn kids might've given me something *cough*cough*).

You probably won't realize the ways in which you have wronged. At least, not until you get caught. So until then,

Merry fucking Christmas.

~Lil.

P.S. In the spirit of the Christmas season, and since they are really of no use to you, would you be so kind as to mailing to me my Driver's license and Health Cards? You no doubt have my mailing address. Thanks.

Does anyone know an easier way to publish photos without using HTML coding? Like some sort of flash player that I can just link to and it will show a slideshow of pictures?

I'm going to stop apologizing for lack of posts, because I seem to be doing it a lot. So. Fuck it. LOL.

A lot has happened in the past few weeks and I'm not really sure where to begin because everything just seems to happen all at once. One thing I can say is that once in awhile, I think everyone needs to take a minute out of their seemingly mundane and routine lives and to look at the big picture. It takes a moment to just realize that we are each just like specks of dusts on this planet and we really don't matter. In a self-absorbed, self-entitled, classless society we live in, it takes one to get a slap in the face of reality to realize it.

I just came back from an amazing week-long trip to Cuba for Vicki's 25th birthday. Okay, I just want to state one thing, even after I just stated that we need to step out of our self-absorbed lives (hey, I didn't say I wasn't): I love my fucking tan. I don't mean to sound conceited, but I look abso-fucking-lutely amazing naked, minus the tan lines that show how baby-ass pale I was before. I think I have some sort of weird fixation with being naked, or as close to naked as socially acceptable. I don't really know why. In Canada, there's not really many opportunities to do it, unless you live on your own or you're up in the Boonies with nothing but you and the bears. In Cuba, I refused to put on more clothing than I needed to. I think it's safe to say that Vicki, Paul and I are now closer friends because of this. :)

We did not have fantastic weather in Cuba (thank you, Hurricane Ida), but that was OK with me. I didn't even mind that for a couple of days we didn't even have running water or electricity or that the food was barely tolerable. My motto: It's all gooooooood. I'm pretty low maintenance when it comes to vacations. Not having any real contact with the outside world and distance from the craziness of work and home is a luxury to me. The thing I like about vacations, too, is that when I come home, I appreciate home just a little bit more. Especially after coming home from a country like Cuba.

We stayed in Veradero, which is mostly a tourist-based resort area, so it was pretty safe, water included. I had more concerns about the safety of the food and drinks than I did about H1N1, thanks to those stupid ads on TV that warn us about Hep and 'the hiv' in South American countries. I guess after a day or so of ingesting drinks and food with no diarrhea or contracting some weird disease, I deemed it OK, especially after I was assured that the water supply to the hotel was privately pumped. Most, if not all, the tourists I met or saw were Canadians, so really, it's like I didn't leave home. I strongly suggest going, before Americans will be allowed into Cuba because commercialism sucks.

After several days of trying to absorb as much UV rays from the overcast skies, we took a tour of Havana, the capital of Cuba, which is vastly different from Veradero, because it's in the city and the poverty of Cuba is just more prominent there. Communism at its best. The tour guide took us around the city and he talked a lot about Cuba, history and the people. Personally, I don't care for history and all that, so I saw Havana with my trusty mp3 player supplying the background music. LOL.

The best day was probably on Vicki's birthday, where we had a day out on a catamaran which was pure luxe. All you can drink, all you can bake, and the weather was absolutely perfect. A strip of sunblock on my shoulders was all I needed and I baked on the deck and on the private beach they took us to. Also, we played with dolphins. That Lonely Island song, "I'm On a Boat" was definitely the theme song for the day, flippy floppies and dolphins, included.

There's a lot more I can say on Cuba, but believe me when I say, WHAT HAPPENED IN CUBA, STAYS IN CUBA. All I can really say on this topic is this: Skinny-dipping in the ocean is better than skinny-dipping in a lake. ;) Oh, and if I don't hear another Pitbull song for awhile, that would be just fine.

On a sadder note, when I came home, I found out that a friend of mine had taken his life while I was away. I am actually still trying to comprehend it, since I will probably never understand why he did it and just the realization of his death will probably take awhile to get over. It's especially harder that I saw him a week before I left and I talked to him a couple of days before he did it, so I've been going over the past two weeks over in my head. I didn't know him for a long time or even that well, but I did have enough contact with him often to know that he was a good guy. The biggest part of this is understanding it all because I don't think I will ever understand suicide.

These past two weeks have just reminded me that I need to really, really appreciate what I have and even question if I even deserve them. The next time I complain about my car, my family and friends, or even the weather, slap me. Hard.

Oh, fuck me. Despite my promise to myself that I would not get sick, as others are around me, I think I am succumbing to the germs...

I blame this past weekend (so far) and my non-stop activities and the germ-y people around me, including but not limited to: handling Poker chips at Casino Niagara on Friday night, Thanksgiving dinner with 30+ friends (and a very sick Kathy!) on Saturday night, football in the unseasonably cold Fall weather yesterday afternoon and clubbing last night until 4:30 am.

I am now lying on the couch with a sore body, while nursing a sore throat with a big cup of orange juice and watching YouTube videos about makeup.

Happy Thanksgiving. *cough**sniffle*

I have always hated Disney. Their movies have a way of 'cock-teasing' young girls' dreams of finding the Perfect Man.

Just when some of us self-conscious girls couldn't find more reasons to hate Disney Princesses, I have discovered that there is more to hate about them, besides their perfectly coiffed hair and airbrushed complexions.

In Sleeping Beauty, Prince Charming took Sleeping Beauty away from the Evil Witch and carried her on his white stead to his castle. But wait. Disney tends to censor the masses by skipping all the truly good parts. What happens between the time the credits are rolled and Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming lived "happily ever after"? What you didn't see was Prince Charming taking Sleeping Beauty to his bedroom in the highest tower of the castle and laying her on the grandest bed... peeled off her petticoat and took off his shirt...and...

In Aladdin, I totally dreamnt of a romantic dusty evening, and Aladdin would swoop me away from my balcony on his grand carpet and take me back to his lair where he laid me down on his futon, peeled off his vest and he looked like this:

And don't even lie. When you saw Lilo and Stitch, did you totally imagine Lilo's friend would look like this in a few years, nipple ring and all?:

This is the stuff childhood Disney dreams are made of...