I’ve been taking photos of the pretty ladies that I live with in Las Vegas. If you like looking at pretty ladies, re-visit this blog in the next few days. There will be photos of pretty ladies.
I’m in Las Virtuous.
if your parents offered you a nice condo overlooking the South China sea, keys to a little red car they call ‘Cooper’ and a club membership card that allowed you to choose from twenty-four pools, six tennis courts and many alleys on which to bowl?
What would you say if they told you they’d have contractors to have the place looking just the way you want it and that they’ll send over that five thousand dollar childhood piano of yers?
What would you say if mum said “Come home, get a good i-banking job, marry a doctor. A good Chinese doctor who will treat you like a princess. And plays the cello too.”?
“I love you,
but no thanks.
I’m really enjoying this dollar seventy-five Vietnamese sub right now.”
That’s it, I’m committing myself to return to my British tongue the moment I am with child. Also, encouraging them to recite great texts on video which I will proliferate over the youtubes.
For every asshat, is an angel.
I have the best friends.
When I learnt how to spell, and subsequently had to tell others how to spell my surname – a near impossible one to pronounce – my father would explicate it as such: “En Gee, like Naughty Girl“. It was funny then. When I was three turning four.
Pubescence hit and my dad transitioned into scolding me with “Joey Ng! En Gee. No Good!”
Now that I’m twenty four, neither of them seem quite appropriate when conducting business over the phone, spelling out my e-mail address or life at large. I’ve resorted to “Nancy George” which I believe is Anglo-Saxon enough to comprehend across the board. Although, not without slight hesitation; I find myself stopping short of saying something awkwardly sexual or self-deprecating. Ideally, the English-speaking world will progress to a state of cultural awareness where the Ngs within it need no further explanation.
Or I could shack up with a Smith.
2002 results showed that I am allergic to dust, dust mites, cats, dogs, cockroaches, cow’s milk, bananas and celery.
Of the aforementioned allergens, I try to avoid the latter three. As I can not do much about the prevalence of the rest, my nose is often found buried in papers most accessible at any given time and not in your beeswax.
Photo by Carl W. Heindl
I am deeply egocentric. I can guarantee you that I can and often do spin, twist and wry any event as a manifestation of the universe and its people unto, because and about me. Also, I believe that I am being watched and scrutinized by others.
Frankly, this is simply untrue.
“Indeed, close inspection reveals frequent disparities between the way we view our performance… and the way it is actually seen by others.” (Gilovich et al., 2000)
“I think you’re crazy” – Michelle
I need to let go of it. At least some.
Gilovich, T., Medvec, V. H. & Savitsky, K. (2000). The Spotlight Effect in Social Judgement: An Egocentric Bias in Estimates of the Salience of One’s Own Actions and Appearance. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 78 211-222.