Servings DO Go Both Ways

Upon looking at my previous post and the posts of a certain roommate I have rediscovered something:

I get SERVED...LIFE!

I got served Academia: After spending so much time last year writing about the Aztecs and studying so hard for a midterm I receive an 8/15 and a 10/20, DISrespectively. Our comments:

eulrich16: you got served
de la Rosa 39: ....DURSTON!
eulrich16: oof. he really did hate you!
de la Rosa 39: wow, i didn't think he'd really express it!

Durston was this horror of a professor who acted quite phallic to remain PC. Another instance of this was one time during lecture the class was required to ask questions. I sat in the center of the room and raised my hand the whole time. He did not call on me. He even made the effort to look around me to call on other people. At least it is okay because he is no longer teaching?

I got served peers: There's no real single instance about this. It's a daily thing and sadly enough I'm starting to get used to it. I generally go unheard. Most of the servings resemble this model:
me-"So what are you up..." (person turns around and/or walks away) "no? Okay that's fine too."
Emily- "You got SERVED! HAHAHA!!"

*The title said "both ways." I'll get to the other side...soon. Moving on...

I also got served SOUTH AMERICA. Okay it was "only" Brazil but isn't mentioning the whole continent much more effective? Eighty percent of the continent is Brazil anyway. Imagine- a whole country! Serving me! Okay now that my initial venting is out of the way, I'll explain. So after a night of non-serving, ie. a finance final, good dinner, good wine, and good company I thought flying to Brazil would cap off a week of studying and finalizing.

Yeah. When was the last thing I was right about anything? This was too good to be true. I packed light thinking of filling the suitcase via an extreme shopping spree in Sao Paulo, which made my train ride to O'Hare easier. Then I checked in at the ticket counter. Thinking my passport was sufficient I handed it to the agent in full confidence. That confidence was shot down when I heard the words, "You... won't be flying to Brazil today. You don't have a visa." Boy did I look AND feel like an idiot. After my slow brain comprehended those words I turned around and headed back for the trains back to the city. To put this feeling in perspective, it's much worse than the famed walk-of-shame, one of which I would not know- psh. Thinking that everyone around me knew my story I attemped to portray myself as someone who had arrived in Chicago instead of one who has been rejected out of sheer ignorance. To rub NaCl on the wound I received a text message from a friend saying, "Have a great trip!" as I was on my way back to the city. Still I remained optimistic about the situation. I thought if I could switch my flight and apply for an express visa I could still make it to Sao Paulo and stay there a week. Wrong again, as usual. The Brazilian Consulate had impossible, elusive, and minimal hours; the airline office looks like no one had set foot in there for weeks, and both offices were only "open" during the week. Yikes! Instead of spending the weekend on the beaches I spent it with my family, including my dad who forced intoxication on me with wine...as usual. They left two days later which leads to my next server:

MY FAMILY.
After my parents left my mom called me the next day and said, "Do you want to come home for a few days? I forgot to invite you home!" I don't even need to share my feelings or discuss this statement any further. Really- it's humiliating enough to know that my own flesh and blood forgot about their only child.

I know, I promised some serving on the other end. But it's not as lighthearted as the aforementioned. I think I ruined and nearly ended a few lives. Coincidentally this all came to my attention when I was home.

1. Last spring break I bumped into an old friend, Steven*, and we hung out that week a couple of times with our other friend (his best friend,) Devin*. After two times of hanging out Steven thought he had enough game to get frisky with me. In reality he did not so he blamed Devin for being a cockblock. Steven and Devin did not speak for six months because of me. Their friendship got served....ME!

2. Devin's cousin, Guy*, also took a liking to me- who knows why. When Devin broke the news to Guy that I would not consider long-distance relationships with him especially, he did not take it so well. Instead of the usual moving-on thing he got quite drunk one night and tried to, well, you know...end it by laying out on the street downtown. Since this was downtown Seattle* the only thing one will accomplish by laying on the street is an improvement of posture. Ironically it was Steven who dragged Guy off the street and back to his house. Guy got served....me....and almost a pickup! (I wasn't there but the pickup was just an assumption.)

I like to write about things in threes but I really can't think of a third instance in which I served someone. Except for the time I made an ex-novio cry and almost laughing at him in the process. That's another story, one I'd rather not discuss.

In short:

1. I am no Latin-American history connoisseur
2. People should stop thinking they're such !33ts and stop SERVING me! (I actually only wanted to throw that in even if it's not used appropriately. Thanks ROB!!)
   
3. Entering a foreign country CAN require more than a passport
4. Wine can significantly soften the blow of realizing #3 too late
5. Apparently my servings are infrequent and EXTREME

What a Karma Chameleon.





...and a horrible way to end a post that should not even be funny in the first place (not that I am implying that it IS funny.)

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent and emotionally wimpy. Don't worry, the changed names rhyme with their real names so there isn't THAT much protection. Think of it as comparable to bad deodorant or using an umbrella with lots of holes during a severe thunderstorm.

Through the years...all two of them.

Isn't it ironic how my update is actually a collection of excepts from my old blog? Since I can't think of anything original except for what I did in the past three weeks (which really isn't much at all nor is it worth mentioning,) I'll just post the old Xangas which made me laugh...out loud

...by myself.

...to myself.

Before I do here's a 30-second update on my life (unless you're a slow reader.)
-I have not gone to sleep before 5 every night for the past six weeks. No joke. One probable cause of this is because of midterms last month and I just could not overcome this "phase" of sleeping extremely late (or early.) Maybe it's the coffee and red eyes (I am not referring to the "newspaper" either.)

-Finals are coming up next week. Because of this I will defer trying to overcome my insomnia until after finals...uh, finalize.

-Currently I am on the market for a condo. This is so I won't have to deal with JANE, my horror of landlord- excuse me, landlady and reduce my chances of getting hit on by random people on the train. Nor will I have to deal with the upstairs neighbors who complain that my music is too loud and that they can hear me (and by loud I mean not at all) yet again it's ironic that I hear them yelling and screaming, pounding through the steps as if it were a grape stomping, and rolling their chairs, thus sounding like they're bowling every day.

-Since St. Patrick's Day is coming up I found it appropriate and sensible to go to Brazil for spring break. Whoo-hoo!! But, uh, wish me luck with the itty-bitty bikini. No, really. It is NOT a good sign when you have to ask which side is the front of back.

...It's okay because it's culture? Ha- yeah, we'll see how this one will turn out.

-I also got hit on by a parking attendant, a large man on Valentine's day on the train, and I received the following message:
Hey MJ,

I think your kinda funny and have good taste in music. I'm from a small town in MI too, you should have witnessed the excitement when Walmart came to town! Oh and our K mart is no longer too. What is your nationality... you kinda look Russian?

Obviously I look Russian. What a fool for even questioning. Also this is the ONLY time I will post something grammatically incorrect. Ugh. On that note, the Xangurrrs. Enjoy.

Tuesday April 26, 2005

So while I was home I ate dinner with my parents (uh-oh....one who really knows can see where this one is going) and while I was eating, this occurred:

mom: hmm, merrrijo likes vodka and tequila
dad: that's not all she likes *cue smartass laugh
mom: well, we've always known she likes dick ha ha ha! *cue victorious laugh for serrrrving me.
me: what?! Oh wow....never speak again, mom.

Whoa whoa whoa! Where in the hell did that come from? You think your parents are bad....well you're probably wrong. I’m assuming not everyone's parents constantly make drinking and sex jokes at their child's expense. But I guess my mom didn't like it when I yelled out "fuck me in the ass" when I made a bad shot golfing. At that point I slouched on my seat and concentrated on eating my rice while my parents snickered at their own joke for the next two minutes. Luckily I was the only one around.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005
So...I’m running errands around town today and three funny things happen in the two hours I was out. First, I needed to go to office max (it's almost a miracle we have one in the first place.). I pull in to the parking lot and I see nothing else besides a horse and buggy tied to one of the posts. Now, call me crazy or naive for saying this but why would Amish people need to go to Office Max? How badly do they need 2.4 GHz cordless phones, copy machines, or ink cartridges? And where could they fit everything in the buggy? Also, I’m in wal-mart, only because we don't have the luxury of having a Target in our town unlike some people, and I go back to my car. I hit the unlock button as usual but the lights to my car don't flash but I just assume I don't see it because it's so sunny out. I open the door, surprised it was even unlocked, and I see a phone resembling my mom's old phone. I look around and I realize that it's not my car. My car was a few steps down from me. it's such a rarity because there are more teeth in Cadillac than foreign cars and to see two white Mitsubishi SUVs in the same area in the same parking lot in the same wal-mart (as if there are other places to choose from) is damn near impossible. I thought my day was over until I’m driving home and I pass by train tracks. I look to my left and I see a young woman walking along the tracks carrying her baby in its little car seat thing, and it was still only 35-40 degrees out. What was she doing walking her baby along train tracks in the wrong part of town? I don't know. Then again, almost every part is the wrong part of town here. I love my town. I really do.

Friday, January 7, 2005
I almost forgot about my seatmate in the plane. he was an assistant to some guy in Kansas City, so I talked to him and learned that he was there for a week, when asked why he was there he said, "basically, to propose." at first I thought it was quite sweet until I got into details, the "how did you meet?" "How long have you known each other?" "Is this your first marriage?" none of the answers were what I expected. He met this girl in OCTOBER online, he knew after a WEEK that he'd wanted to marry her, and this was his third marriage. His first one was from Korea, the second was from Japan, and this one is from the Philippines. And he's still only 38. No Asian love for him. Okay, I just had to get that one out. g'nighty!

Apparently I found nothing humorous for six months. Anyway, moving on...

Monday, July 19, 2004
Why helloooo from the white trash capital of the world! So Friday night my girlfriends and I decide to go to the races for some odd reason. These aren't dog races or horse races like they do it in Arlington Heights...It's close though...not horse but horsepower. Yes, we went to Merritt Speedway to watch people race. So my friend, Stephanie, who coincidentally lives near Merritt, and I say something to ourselves somewhere along the lines of "Oh dear, this is definitely white trash central." Let me tell you what I saw, I was immediately unwarmly welcomed by one girl who I went to high school with (the school slut...no, really! we never liked her) getting drunk not talking to us. I had never felt soooo out of place in my life wearing my little jean jacket, earrings, flip flops, and my long wavy black hair and Asian...everything! I felt like I needed to gain about 150 pounds, cut my hair into a mullet, hold two toddlers on my lap, and blow cigarette smoke into her blonde hair. Wow. I endured this for two hours. How did I do it? I have no idea. THIS is the reason why y'all have to come to Michigan or I need to go back to Chicago. Among other things I saw: multiple trucks with full-sized Confederate flags attached, ATVs, the school slut running to the parking lot because her boyfriend was getting into a fight with about 10 4th graders

Sunday July 4, 2004
so I sat in the aisle toward the back of the plane and this couple was coming where the wife was a little bit bigger and you're gonna think this is so mean of me but I thought, "oh, I hope they don't sit here," but I guess God heard me and then I heard the couple mention the same row as the one I was sitting in so I thought, "okay, maybe she'll sit by the window." wrong again. at first it was fine because she folded her arms and didn't take up much of my space, but then they started watching "along came polly" on their DVD player and all of a sudden I find her sprawled out getting a little too close to me. I was very tempted to lean on her arm. So I’m asleep and as mentioned before I was sitting toward the back, where the only bathroom was. This is a very very narrow aisle and people don't know how to squeeze their bubblebutts across the aisles. Every time I woke up or jumped up I saw their bubblebutts (emphasis on BUBBLE) ugh....needless to say I got a little grumpy.

Tuesday June 24, 2004
There's a random story that all you people would enjoy: so I’m paying for gas in lake city (now understand, lake city is even SMALLER than Cadillac and if you breathe the wrong way you'll get some STD) and I went to pay for gas so the guy said "$38." so I gave him my card and the guy behind me said, "oh, you can pay for my truck, it costs $60 to fill that up!" I turn around and much to my surprise (and yours too, I’m sure) he had the cleanest-cut, neatest MULLET! MULLET MULLET MULLET!!! (If that line doesn't get your attention, I don't know WHAT will!) Not only was it clean cut, it was all nice and spiked up and out but not wispy on the bottom...

By the lack of comments I can tell that some of you are a bit distraught from reading this and discovering (or confirming your opinions) of my 1) fascination for mullets, 2) unending love for Seatt- I mean Cadillac, Michigan, and 3) awkward encounters. Ah, to be a Pacific Islander-Asian-American female.