Best Wedding EVER.

This past weekend, my roommate of almost 6 years got hitched. To a great guy. My roomie and her new mother-in-law have the same name. First and last. Random factiod. I guess its true that guys want to marry girls like their mothers. Or maybe not. Either or, it was amazing, beautiful, fun and all around the best party I've ever attended. I was trying to think of how to write about the wedding when I noticed Fort Knock's post so you can go ahead and read it there.

There a few details that do not apply to me but its still a spot-on description. I probably shouldnt be riding on his coattails and write something original but I'm just too tired. Why beat a dead horse? Does that saying even apply?

Either way, my newly nuptialized friend is swimming on a beach in Mexico and I wish her all the best. Thanks for everything.

Going to the Chapel...

So B is getting married in T minus 2 days. I dont really have any idea what the whole T-minus thing means but it sounds very official. I'm standing up at the wedding (meaning in it) so I had to get a dress. A black one. And I did. It was all very last minute and worked out perfectly reminding me that my penchant for getting things done at the last minute is still working in my favor, at least for the time being.

However, I decided to come home to shop for this particular dress because I wasnt having any luck in Chicago (aka. didnt really look hard enough). Something about shopping in my own hometown where I dont have to pay for parking or get accosted by tons of other out of towners coming to the BIG CITY to do the whole shopping thing relaxes me and gives me the space and time I need to do this thing I usually abhore. Plus, my mom can come with me. And we always have a good time. In fact, I do have a particularly funny story about the two of us shopping for some new brasierres but since part of the readership of this blog is male, I dont know if its appropriate to tell the story. Oh what the heckfire, I'll tell it anyway.

Nanny Diaries

So my nanny job is coming to an end. In fact, tomorrow will be my last day. I know what you are all thinking: "Man, that was fast." And I bet I know your next thought: "Does this mean more funemployment?" Unfortunately no, funemployment has been replaced with wedding craze which begins a week from Saturday and continues through September. A note to my friends seriously dating someone, please dont get married until at least after Christmas.

Anyway, today is Thursday which is usually a soccer night. My little man, T, now knows that Thursdays are soccer nights so every Thursday he asks me: "Asiankp, are you going to fall down in your game tonight?" The reason for this question is that 3 weeks ago Friday I showed up with a pretty big scar on my leg when some wanna-relive-my-athletic-days-Lincoln Park-ex-frat boy tripped me. I told T I fell in the game. For the last couple weeks leading up to today, T has dropped hints about me trying to run without falling and wearing pillows on my legs for when the bad people come to hurt you.

So today our conversation:

T: Asiankp, are you going to try not to fall in your game tonight?

KP: Well, lucky me, we dont have a game tonight T.

T: Why? Because you always fall?

KP: No, because we lost our last game...it was the playoffs and we lost in the very last second.

T: (pause) Well, at least you wont have to feel clumsy tonight.

I have NO idea where he picked up that word and equated it with me falling and well, I guess some of my genius is rubbing off on him.

Shun the Non-Believers

Unicornicopia lives.

For those of you too lazy to click:

'Unicorn' deer is found in Italian preserve

A deer with a single horn in the center of its head — much like the fabled, mythical unicorn — has been spotted in a nature preserve in Italy, park officials said Wednesday.
"This is fantasy becoming reality," Gilberto Tozzi, director of the Center of Natural Sciences in Prato, told The Associated Press. "The unicorn has always been a mythological animal."
The 1-year-old Roe Deer — nicknamed "Unicorn" — was born in captivity in the research center's park in the Tuscan town of Prato, near Florence, Tozzi said.

I got new posters for my new room

This one for my love of Chicago and my recent love for Devil in the White City. Havent read it? Read it.

This one for my love of the novel and my love for Atticus Finch.

Obamamania.

So this Obama fellow...he's taking over my city. And its annoying. And believe me, its not just because of the politics. I mean, whether you are a Democrat, Republican, white, black, red, yellow, anytime the media/television/print world focuses on just one, singular thing, its annoying. However, since the man has secured the Democratic nomination, perhaps the public will be granted a reprieve for at least a few weeks. I fear it will only be weeks and not months and years like I hope.

Another pseudo-celeb dominating the print world is R. Kelly. My commuter newspaper, The Red Eye has a little feature called Trial Watcher. Basically it gives updates on the Kelly case and serves to annoy the living daylights out of me. Now you could say, "Asiankp, just ignore it and move on" but since I am a bit OCD and have to read EVERY part of the paper ( I just do, I can't explain it) having to read verbatim cross-examinations is about as fun as getting teeth pulled. On a side note, the Red Eye calls itself a sib of the Trib. Whatever, it's more like the bastard child of the Trib's second cousin.

So beside R. Kelly and Obama, whats up with all this rain? Floods and more floods and tornados??!!

Something is rotten in the state of Illinois.

Life Lessons

Never judge a book by its cover.

I know its an old adage that you've heard from your parents, grandparents, teachers, condescending friends and pretty much any person who likes to lord stuff over you.

But, I have to be honest. Its really very true. And nothing is more sobering than realizing the annoying and obnoxious things that some of your peers say are, suprisingly, the troof. The real troof. I say troof because my ego doesnt allow me to write the actual word. To do so would be to admit to actually learning something from someone else and owning up to the fact that, on a rare occasion, Asiankp is wrong.

So back to the judging the book. I'll start small. A certain friend has been hinting that I should watch a certain television program. She is an accomplished writer and television reviewer and has a number rating system for the various shows that she watches with 10 being life changing and 1 being really not worth a damn and you might actually be dumber for watching the show. October Road falls into this category. But I'll not go into that. She surprised me for a visit about 2 weeks ago and brought along the first season of what is now at the top of Asiankp's list. Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose.

I'll admit, when I first heard about this show, I was tempted. A visit home and my dad's support for the show quickly kiboshed any hopes I had of getting in too deep. I mean, come on, my dad's favorite show is American Idol. How can I trust that? After that, I got too involved with other stuff like looking for a job, blogging and seeing how many movies I could watch in one day, that my interest was nothing more than lint in the dryer. When she told me to watch it, I put it off and put it off and procrastinate and procrastinate. Finally, I relented. If the girl could fly over 300 miles in one day to visit me, she had to be on to something. Let me say, I was wrong. The show is above and beyond what I expected and has my full support and my undying love.

But this is not about my unhealthy obsession with things on the small screen. This story only reminds me of another story where my prideth went before the falleth. Almost a year ago, I embarked on a trip to NYC to see a holy man. I went with 3 close friends. Another girl who was an acquaintance of one in my party was going to meet up with us for a few hours. Now, I had met said girl a couple times before. She was a model. Yes, a model. A runway model. She was no Gisele or Tyra or Heidi but give her a few years and she could be. Lets call her Gitydi.

Regardless, I scoffed at her. I scoffed at her profession and what she was like even though I had only spent about a total of 5 minutes with her and I never directly spoke to her. In fact, I made it a point to avoid her and try to throw withering and judgmental looks her way. When everyone else told me that Gitydi was the nicest girl and so down to earth and really cool in a grounded way, I laughed and said, sure and Hitler was misunderstood. Which didnt really make sense then and doesnt make much sense now either.

So the idea of spending a couple hours in the presence of Gitydi in NYC, her mecca, I assumed, was less than thrilling. I did the brat act for the entire 4 hours before meeting up with her. Throwing out mean comments, being snotty. Basically, I reverted back to the age of 5 when mom and dad wouldnt play the game I wanted to. Here were my friends forcing me to hang out with someone who was going to be perched on a high horse and flaunting her beauty in our faces. Of course, no normal human does that unless you are on a reality show but I firmly believed in the theory that the pretty girls are always mean and bitchy.

To make a long story short, after smoking all my cigarettes and calling all the people I could so I wouldnt have to go and sit with all those adoring Glamazons, I reluctantly headed into the Starbucks and took a seat across from Gitydi. Immediately after sitting, Gitydi focuses her attention on me, "So Asiankp, so-and-so says that you are interested in casting? Thats so great..." I cant really recall the entire conversation but let's just say she was down to earth, friendly, unassuming and perfectly normal. Not to mention that the girl was just plain nice. I learned that she was a few years younger than the rest of us and had a hard time struggling to remain modest and grounded in a profession that does its best to make the polar opposite. We chatted for a few more hours and she even held her own when I threw my sarcastic, dry humor her way.

When we left, I turned to my friend and said, "Never again. Never again will I pre-judge. This was a great lesson. Dont ever let me do this again." So here I am, ashamed to say that I have to remind myself of that mantra again. And not just with TV shows but with life. I like to walk down Michigan Ave, past big groups of people carrying Abercrombie bags and Burberry purses and I like to pass judgements. But who knows whats going on behind those bags and purses. Maybe they are for a friend or maybe they have tastes just like I have certain tastes and while those tastes may not seem normal, they exist to make us each individual.

So there is power in those old sayings. The truth can set you free.