Et tu, Elise?

Having the physical features that I do makes me no stranger to being on the receiving end of mistaken identity (Panera Employee: "You're the [Asian] guy who just ordered the coffee, right?" Me: "No. I'm the [Asian] guy about to order a bagel, though.") and mistaken ethnicity ("Can't you read 'dem Chineez pictures?"). 

And who can blame people, really... I mean, it's a common enough occurrence that websites like AllLookSame.com and its "Exam Room" exist, right? East Asians all kind of do look the same, and we all get a Discernment FAIL -- myself included -- when asked to say who is Japanese, who is Korean, or who is Chinese.

I've learned not to get upset about it or take it personally, for the intent to offend is not there, and I don't personally know any of the people. Most of the time I just wryly smile and chuckle about it, and make sure to log it away for storytelling purposes, because I might as well have my friends laugh about it.

Another case of mistaken identity struck about a month ago. Only this time it came from someone I knew. All of my family was in town and at the mall. I was out picking up a friend from the airport. When we all met back up, Papa D had a story to share:

"So we're all at the mall with the kids. Elise [my niece] then walks up to a young, Asian man with gelled hair, and glasses with frames shaped like yours..."

...oh, no. She didn't...

"...and she just walked right up to him and asks him: 'Are you my Uncle Josh, I think?' And she kept asking him and jabbering away at/with him, and would have continued, had we not pulled her away..."

Like I said, when I'm mistaken for another Asian man or vice versa, I'm usually not offended because I don't know the person. But this was different. I should have felt a sense of betrayal at the hands of one my own, right? Like Caesar with Brutus?: "Et tu, Elise? You mistook a random Asian man for me?"

But then I remembered that my niece is 5-years old, and so I laughed. And laughed. And appreciate that in a random and strange mall, my niece went looking for me.

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RoSA Returns

Goedemorgen. Ik heb teruggegeven.

WHOA. I return from my extended hiatus.

Let's face it -- in a figurative blogging sense, I'm feeling a bit like our Dutch friend, Mr. Rip Van Winkle: Slightly disoriented as I wipe the Blog Slumber from my bleary eyes; my blogging "muscles" are atrophied from sitting idle and have disintegrated into rolls of useless fat; and, as is evident from my greeting, my Dutch still sucks. So getting back into the blogging may require shaking off some rust.

Also, one actual and non-metaphorical thing that Mr. Van Winkle and I both did during our respective hibernations: We grew beards for a little longer than was prudent. See Exhibit A:

Exhibit A

...and, basically, the similarities end there. See, whereas Rip grew an awesome beard during his 20-year slumber, I grew an asymmetrical abomination. Even homeless men looked at me with pity in their starving eyes, thanking the heavens that, although they were without income, food, or lodging -- and possibly hope -- at least they could grow a decent beard.

AM described that "...it was part wolf, part molester, part santa, part amish", but I'm guessing that's just a kind way of saying "fully revolting." Sigh.

So, anything happen with you guys since June? Me? Oh, not a whole lot, really...

I went overseas for a good three months, where I got stranded twice in remote areas in the middle of nowhere and was able to witness the inner workings and daily living of the US Military (the latter basically means eating bad food three meals/day and living in poor housing conditions). It was an adventure.

The Beard in its nascent stages

Immediately after returning to the US, the beard had outlived its stay (see aforementioned homeless men pitying me as a possible reason), and let me tell you, trimming and shaving the thing was EXHAUSTING. The whole epic saga took at least 45 minutes and required the type of physical stamina and resolve that you only see/read about in classics like The Odyssey or Rocky. I unashamedly admit that midway through shaving I took a short break to rest my fatigued arm, and I may or may not have given myself a pep talk in the mirror sometime along the way ("C'mon, man, FOCUS! Don't let the beard beat you" "Pain is nothing. You're better than this!", etc, etc). I collapsed, completely exhausted, at the end of it all.

The two weeks after returning home were complete chaos, but I suppose it was for a good cause, because at the end of it all, I got married, which was all pretty awesome. It was all a blur of dresses and flowers and having my picture taken (ugh), but most importantly, a day spent with my lovely wife (formerly AM and now Mrs. RoSA, who I'm sure you'll hear from from time-to-time), my family, and all of my closest friends throughout the years.* Honeymoon involved flying to London to hang out for a bit, then catching a Transatlantic Crossing from England back to the US. You know, just like the Pilgrims did in the olden days!

*The whiffleball games played at my bachelor party were some of the funniest moments of my life

So yeah. That's been the last bit of the happenings here. Now it's back to normal life, and normal life involves blogging. Like I said, gotta shake the rust off, so bear with me.

PS Apparently this video going viral was the biggest development back in the States whilst I was away? This is brilliant, and I'm proud that -- despite a still-recessed economy and Sarah Palin actually being taken seriously as a political figure by some -- America was able to come up with this:



So run and tell that, homeboy.

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Extended Hiatus

RoSA Readers,

Unfortunately, the time has come -- at least temporarily -- for me to stop blogging.

I will be busy with work for the next four months and will not have the time nor means to blog. Again, the hope is that this is just a hiatus, and not THE END.

Three years and almost 300 posts later, thank you to you, loyal readers: For your suggestions; for your feedback; for taking two minutes out of your frenzied days of ADD-propelled internet surfing to read the posts; for claiming to enjoy what I've written. Most of all, thanks for indulging me in what began as a need-for-catharsis project and morphed into something that taught me how much I love writing. It's been a nice run.

(Writing this, I realize this probably doesn't sadden you as much as it does me... or perhaps Case: "i thought my kid's first words read were going to be from that blog." But hey: No one enjoys writing about and recounting my various moronic deeds more than I do, so I know I'll want to get back to it when things settle down.)

I have no other words to convey my sadness, so I will use this man to express how I feel:



It's like in Empire Strikes Back when Han Solo gets captured and frozen and Chewbacca is distraught and wailing like only a Wookie can. This kind of highly emotional crying would also apply to me during the last episode of LOST; or, whenever I think about David Archuletta and his sweet, crooning voice not winning 'American Idol.' (<-- BLATANT AND SHAMELESS LIE)

So, for the time being, keep me on your RSS feed. We'll continue rambling around Oct-Nov. Until then, enjoy the World Cup, Inception, and whatever else your summer has in store for you.

Peace for now,
JD

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Why Do We Have Spoilers, Again? -- Photo of the Week 7 June 2010

This one came in from K Swiss on his morning drive today:

I took this photo using [my wife's] Blackberry this morning on the way to the Metro. Yeah, this happened in my neighborhood

First of all, nothing screams "bad-ass speed" and "I need a spoiler to stay on the ground I'm so fast" than a '93 Accord with "turbo" placed on the back right of the trunk.

But really, if you're going to the trouble of slaping a piece of wood onto your trunk, wouldn't you want to go with something classier than plywood? Like a nice, dark cherry wood? Maybe put a nice dark stain on their to at least make it appear that your spoiler wasn't just a skateboard ramp for a bunch of teenagers? I don't know. Despite my Asianness, I am no expert on Rice Rocketing a car.


Happy Monday, all.

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The Double Down -- Photo(s) of the Week 1 June 2010

So, I'm assuming you've at least seen, and been disgusted by, the commercials for KFC's Double Down -- the sandwich that was marketed as having "so much meat, there wasn't room for a bun"? It's the two fried pieces of chicken holding together cheese, bacon, and KFC's "special sauce."

Chunk had been talking about giving it a try. So we decided to go for it:

My recommendation: Bring lots of water with you when you try this thing, because I think it contains your weekly value for sodium. I was dehydrated for the entire day following eating this thing. And I only had two bites...

Hope you had a good Memorial Day weekend. Have a good week!

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