So it started with me turning in early last night because I needed to wake up at 9 this morning because I was afraid my parents were going to spend the holiday sleeping in and I didn't want to deal with them staying in the house with me all fucking day. I managed to get lucid quickly, but not before I heard them leave for work. Phew!
However, I did want some coffee for breakfast, and I toted my laptop with me. But before I went out the door and into temps that got as high as 0 -- think about it; there was a total absence of degree outside today ... that has got to have some meaning -- I saw the new calendar my parents brought home. It's very Chinese, so I thought, hey, I might as well plan ahead and find out when Chinese New Year is. It falls on February 14 this year, exactly on Valentine's Day. You want to know what else it falls on? The trip to St. Louis I booked Christmas Day. So I decided to change my ticket on Southwest to two weeks later. I wanted to catch a couple Blues games before they broke for the Olympics, but now I'm going while they're still on their sabbatical. My Plan B weekend was the first weekend in March; there's the Missouri Valley Conference men's basketball tournament then, and I thought that would be something I could do if I couldn't do anything else. But the prices crept up beyond their sale prices for their nonstop flights; I could get the same price ticket if I stopped over in Chicago. With weather potentially fucking everything up, and with stopping over in Chicago always like playing russian roulette with getting anywhere on time, I decided not to do it. I love the Loo, but now I'm going on a dead weekend. What the fuck am I going to do?
Another question that arises from this, one I don't have time to dissect now: How could an Asian man make plans without first asking himself when's Chinese New Year?
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I wanted to go to the museum today. (Better to avoid all those meaningless bowl games on TV.) Unfortunately, the exhibition I wanted to see, a special loaner collection from the Lourve, was sold out. I was told I had to reserve a spot before it left next Sunday. Reserve a ticket for an art show? Really??? Never heard of that before. Well, when the "Bodies" exhibit was in the cities for the first time several years ago they went 24/7 and I got a ticket for 5 a.m. But I never thought I'd have to buy a ticket in advance for paintings. Whatever, there are other paintings out there, so I spent a couple hours at MIA being cultured anyway. A productive way to start 2010, no?
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Through the cold I drove around downtown because I thought about taking advantage of the free parking meters and diving into the downtown Hooters for a quick beer. But the sun at 3 in the afternoon hangs real low this time of year, and it was like I was driving directly into the fucking sun. Plus, I realized that the only sporting event on TV was the, ugh, Rose Bowl. I decided to go to the mall close by my house because I didn't want to go home too early. Would otherwise confront my parents, who definitely would be home early, and I didn't feel like getting into an argument over cleaning.
I wanted to eat something that counteracted the oogy feeling I had in my stomach after drinking a mocha and cookie this morning. Hadn't had Orange Julius in a long time, so I decided to stand in line, something I had never done before at an OJ. Pretty soon I realized things were pretty fucked up. I was fourth in line, but we lined up in two separate lines. Only one cash register was working: the one I wasn't lined up in front of. And the two employees there, both short Asian kids, looked absolutely flummoxed. The one helping the people two people in front of me was pouring popcorn into this huge tin they bought (this OJ is connected with KarmelKorn). Then for some fucking reason the mom and daughter in front of me asked not only for popcorn but mini-donuts. They sell mini-donuts here? That obviously backed me up enough for a group of younguns that happened to line up in front of the working register to basically cut in front of me and order before me. I swear, in a social situation like this, people should know that everbody is queueing up in one line; first in line, next to get served. This is something I know I will have to address later in the year, because it'll raise its ugly fucking head once again.
Anyway, I get my small piña colada smoothie. I start walking around, eventually going to LensCrafters to check on prices for new lenses. But then I catch something in my straw. I'm sucking, hard. Nothing comes out. I'm just sucking up the straw up into my mouth, not drinking anything. So I disengage suction, swirl the straw around, and do it again -- Standard Operating Procedure. But the straw clogs again. And again. And again. And again. I've never had so much trouble drinking an Orange Julius ever. What the fuck?!
I had to sit down, open up my cup, and start examining what the hell was happening. I look into my cup of OJ as I start sucking and immediately catch something that's too big to suck through the straw. So I lift up the straw and see it's a huge chunk of ice. I have to use the straw as a chopstick now so I bat it up to my mouth to eat it. Maybe that's the problem ... no, I suck and it does it again. Another large chunk of ice, again. So I have to gather it up into my mouth and chew it.
This happens for the next 20 goddamn minutes. Virtually the entire cup has these floating ice-chunk mines ready to ruin my OJ experience. I wasn't drinking this; I was digging and picking through it like I was panning for gold. And all I got were these icy nuggets. And the fucking drink wasn't even fucking good, either! Once I realized what I had to go through I had half a mind to go marching through the mall and rip these girls a new asshole for fucking up my drink. But the only thing they probably could give me was another drink, and I wasn't hungry for that. Besides, I might have had to wait in line. So I just negotiated my way through The Worst, Most Labor-Intensive Orange Julius Smoothie In My Life. And once I was done, it was about five minutes to five -- closing time this New Year's Day at the mall.
I had to pass by the OJ again on my way to my car. There was a line.
I'm so pissed that I looked up the Orange Julius website. Did you know they're now owned by Dairy Queen? Sent them a complaint e-mail. Will it work?
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And by the way: Father, I was just trying to be proactive when asking for tuition money. I know I can sometimes be a pain, and I probably was asking in a way that made you subconsciously gird yourself for what I was about to ask because it's a decent bet it'd be something that would annoy you. But this is a new year in the western calendar, and I was hoping that you wouldn't be reacting like a child. Sadly, when I thought it was a good time to ask for money during dinner when everyone seemed to be in a good mood, that's exactly what you did. You got off on the wrong foot for 2010.
Thanks for the money, though.
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