As you can see, my Auntie Ne in the Philippines sent Penelope a little belated Birthday gift. Really, she is the cutest thing in the world. Oh and Penelope too. :)

After hearing so much about my co-worker's boyfriend for the last year, I finally got to meet him this past weekend when he came and helped out at an event. Its funny, since it's just the both of us most of the time at the back of the shop, Sarah and I pretty much talk about EVERYTHING, so when I finally met the infamous Chris, I wanted to pepper him with questions about all the stuff I had heard about him. I was even ready with my greeting of "Hi! I've heard so much about you!"

But, he beat me to it.

Upon meeting him, he shook my hand and replied "Nicole! I've heard so much about you!"

What!? Wait a sec. No no no. I've heard so much about you. YOU!! You don't know nothing about me. You're the boyfriend. I'm just a lowly co-worker who's anal about folding things. I'm no one. I'm boring. What has she been telling you about me??? I hope she isn't talking crap!! I hope you don't think I'm a loser. OH.. everything I said is completely false and I'm a pathological liar...

Unless she said something nice and cool, then those things are true and well, yes, I AM that adorable.

HA!

Anyways, the Olympics are over. Sad. I was getting addicted to it because it was on ALL THE TIME. Hmmm gymnastics on normal NBC, or do I want to watch some sailing action on CNBC? Hot swimmers in speedos... or hot divers in speedos... or somewhat hot short gymnastic guys in unitards.

OH, but its not all about getting hot and bothered about eye candy! Who knew that watching MARATHON RUNNING could be so interesting! You think, "They're running! They'll be doing it for 26 miles." and really, the commentary for it seems asinine. Really, Brazil is in the lead. Gee, I couldn't tell because that's all you've been saying for the past 2 hours. BUT even before the crazy Irish priest came and attacked Brazil, it was so interesting. They're RUNNING. And running. AND running. I can't run. My shoes aren't meant for running. But its interesting for some odd reason and we sat there for a good hour watching them run. Its not like I can sit back at the gym and watch someone do their thing on a treadmill, because that isn't interesting. Even if they were to do it for 2 hours.

Actually that would be sorta gross to be running a marathon on a treadmill at the gym for 2 hours because imagine how sweaty that person would be. Just dripping about on the equipment. And then imagine watching the people's reaction around him if he started shaking his head a lot, whipping that sweat about, AND if he were really stinky...

I'd totally watch that.

Tonight, I saw 2 kids dressed up as Harry Potter at Citywalk. Well, I wouldn't call them kids. They were more like teens I think. One was a boy and the other was a girl. Or at least I think it was a girl. Well the boy, the one I'm sure was a boy, was dressed up as "Harry" although I'm not too sure because the accent color they had was green, and well Harry Potter doesn't wear green. He wears burgandy and gold. But this boy was wearing black and green. And despite the fact that he had Harry Potter-like glasses on, his hair was a bit too long for my liking. If he were taller, he would have made an interesting Snape.

To the public, they were probably viewed upon as "weird."

I just thought they had the look all wrong.

Just a random observation.

A more important random observation... I need a life. :P

Lets take a look at a page of my life...

Scene: The kitchen. MOM is cooking dinner just as a NICOLE at age 6 comes running into the room, crying and holding her left hand out.
YOUNG NICOLE: Mom!! My finger!
MOM: What? What happened?
YOUNG NICOLE: We were playing outside and when I touched a piece of wood, it hurt my finger!
MOM: Oh... it's a splinter.
YOUNG NICOLE: It hurts.
MOM: I know... we'll take it out. (Opens a drawer, pulls out a pair of tweezers, and proceeds to take the splinter out of Young Nicole's finger.)
YOUNG NICOLE: Ooowww!
MOM: It's not coming out.
YOUNG NICOLE (panicking): What happens if I can't get it out?
MOM: It will get infected and your finger will fall off. Hmmmm... let me go get a needle.
YOUNG NICOLE screams

Now... lets look at the events of today.

Scene: At a wedding decorating warehouse. NICOLE, many years later, is putting away fabrics in a hurried manner, and in the process of doing so, she bangs her hand against a wooden roller and yelps. SARAH, her co-worker looks on.
NICOLE: Oh f*ck! I have a splinter!
SARAH: Does it hurt?
NICOLE: (clutching her finger, staring at her wound, and wimpers) Yes... you don't have tweezers by any chance?
SARAH: Nope.
NICOLE: (wimpers more and calls out to her boss) Doug? Do you have any tweezers?
(DOUG enters room and walks over to a bookshelf and takes out a first aid kit.)
DOUG: Maybe. What for? (Looks inside and finds a giantic pair of plastic tweezers that shouldn't be in there in the first place because they're absolutely useless.)
NICOLE: I have a splinter... (Tries to take splinter out with tweezers, but like I told you already, they're uselss.) Aww... it hurts and it won't come out.
DOUG: Let me try (trying to take splinter out of Nicole's finger)
NICOLE: (Babbling to herself) ...and if it gets stuck, it's going to get infected and my finger is going to fall off!!!
DOUG: This isn't working... lets get a needle. You can try cutting your skin open...
NICOLE screams

We later were able to take it out eventually with a pair of pliers. I nearly passed out.

But at least I won't loose my finger to a tragic splinter infection. Thanks a lot Mom for instilling the fear of "infections" in me. That and the fear of "too much sodium" because too much sodium means that you can get kidney stones and I was scared of peeing in pain. That was the reason why we weren't allowed to get LUNCHABLES growing up.

"Do you want to pee rock salt? It's going to hurt!"
"No mom."
"Ok. You can have a piece of bread with mayonaise on it for lunch at school."
"Yay!"

Weekend Roundup

Thursday, I said "Bon Voyage" to my dear homie for life, Laura who'll be leaving for jolly ole England this week. I swear, she's gonna come back married to an English sailor, say phrases such as "chop chop" or "care for tea", and wear hats... frilly ones with flowers on the side. But for now, she was wearing normal American clothing as we went movie hopping... a delinquency I haven't done since I was in high school. Well, not completely "bad ass" seeing that one of our movies was "The Princess Diaries 2" which was just a tad bit too cheesy for 2 hoodlums like ourselves. *I liked the first one better*

On Friday, 5pm, Jean and I were fortunante to be able to participate in the last WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE attraction at California Disney EVER... and while you think "woah... that's pretty nerdy of them" really, we were far from it. Apparently we missed the "crazy disney fanatic memo" to wear our disney Millionaire shirts, hats, and pins, and chant the names of the hosts and stage crew like the dozens of folks who... were. At one point, Jean and I figured that there would be no point in us playing with the "fanatics" because they probably knew EVERYTHING! But in a way, their crazy dorky antics were sweet, especially for those disney employees who obviously were having their own last day of "work" at the thing. And although we never made it to the hot seat ourselves nor did we ever get to witness anyone get to a million... we did get to witness a possible love-match for 2 random Canadian teenagers on vacation.

Good luck you crazy kids.

Anyways, the rest of the weekend was pretty family orientated, which was really nice. Saturday was Mom's birthday so that night we went to have a delicious dinner at the gorgeous Mission Inn over in Riverside. Oh Riverside, you never expect to see anything there sometimes, and yet when you come across downtown and the Inn, you realize what a jewel it is and you're actually a bit grateful that it's so far from civilization because that makes it even more special because in a way, it's a little more "yours." Does that make any sense? Well, it does to me. We spent a good portion of the night exploring the hotel, playing "when I get married here", and wishing for a lottery win so that I can spend countless nights just basking in its charming glow. :)

I gush and I gush, but really, it's lovely....as is the Toyko Lobby in vintage San Dimas where we had dinner with Dad earlier tonight. And while I don't have any adjectives at the moment to illustrate how lovely our usual Japanese food spot next to the newly built Albertsons, its lovely in its own way.

Had my first job interview today. I can't say that I KICKED ASS... nor can I say that I SUCKED ASS.... so we'll just say that my ass is alright and just waiting. I personally think I should have prepared more. But the thing is that my interviewer was asking some very thought provoking questions other than your usual "tell me about yourself" and "what are your weaknesses?" What exactly are my management attributes? How do you answer "What motivates you" without sounding greedy or incredibly cheesy? Did he really need to know what 3 people dead or alive I would like to have dinner with? For a moment, I felt like I was completing one of those stupid online surveys or in a pagent of some sort. For fun, I like to hang out with friends, talk on the phone, go shopping at the mall, and BOYS! World peace yay!

Oh well. If it doesn't work out at least it was an experience. Plus there's that old saying that always gives me hope, "When God Closes A Door, He Opens A Window." So I'll just have to wait and see what happens. :)

Hot diggity dog!! It took me 3 years and 9 months, but this is my 1000th post!

I can hear the chanting of "NERD" in the backround... like in that final scene of "Revenge of the Nerds" when the giant crowd of dork, dweebs, and geeks chanted "NERD" around the bonfire. It was empowering... in a dorky kind of way.

Still... this is pretty exciting.

Sorta. :)

Anyways...

The other day while I was at the Nordstrom Rack, I was in the dressing room and surrounded by a group tweens in my neighboring cubicals. Oh what a delightful conversation I got to overhear...

"Oh my gosh... this is so cute."
"Oh yeah! That is so cute!"
"I'm sooo going to get this."
"Oh yeah... you should. What do you think of this skirt?"
"That is so cute!"
"That top is nice too..."
"Oh I know, but I think I need a bra for it?" *giggles*
*serious* "What do you need it for?!?"

Oh to be 12 again. Actually, I wouldn't. 12 sucked. And if I were the girl who just got moted by her friend in the dressing room, I'd start to cry because although I did look cute in skirt (totally!), she didn't think I was "booby" enough for a bra... and lord knows how important "first bras" are to girly girls. I was *this* close to swinging the curtain open and teaching the poor chestless girl some "I must I must I must increase my bust" moves... followed by "for fear for fear the boys will think I'm queer" because lord knows they worked for me. Or was it the bananas? I remember Jenny Reyes telling me that eating bananas helped your boobs grow...

Remember the days when you stuffed your bra with tissues and you were conviced that that extra layer of fluff really did something for your chest... when really it just matted down into nothing... and yet you felt "chesty" and grownup because that was what all the girls did... or so you thought.

Yeah... at 12, you weren't very smart.

You aren't smarter at 24, maybe a bit brighter... but at least you can fill out a bra.