A little exchange between me and the second customer I had earlier today. (By the way, the guy looked like there was something off about him…in a creepy, get away from me type of way.)

Idiot Customer: (after looking at me like he’s never seen an Asian before) Do you speak Korean?

Me: No.

Idiot Customer: What language do you speak?

Me: English. (Yes, I said it with a slight attitude.)

Idiot Customer: …You can punch me in the face now.

Me: Gladly.

Okay, so I didn’t say that last part, but I wanted to.

OMG! A whole week without an entry. That’s crazy talk. After a couple of days, I still didn’t feel like updating. Then by day six I realized I had six entries to write…OR! I could just wait a couple more days and finish out the week.

Oh, well. Now that my little run has a blip in it, I’m sure it’ll be more likely I’ll have more blips.

I’ve been feeling really exhausted, and I thought perhaps I need more iron, so yesterday I took an iron supplement. I become even more tired. I go to bed and sleep for longer than usual.

I’ve been reading this book called Why Sh*t Happens, and I’m reading a chapter that is talking about bones and how they work. Well, it mentions that excess iron can cause fatigue, and I had one of those, “…?…Oh,” moments.

Shoe shopping and bra shopping are by far some of the worst kinds of shopping. Well, they mainly are for me because it is really hard for me to find either that look good, are comfortable, and reasonably priced. I had to do both today.

I went to Payless for some work shoes, so I’m not being picky. I just want something that is comfy. Yeah, no dice!

I went to Kohl’s where I usually get my bras. I usually get the Vanity Fair ones because they fit best. There was a section for “full-figured” and another section of the brand in “average size”. I looked high and low wondering where the hell the third section for “almost concave” was. Again, no dice!

I gave up my search for the day because I had to meet my friend for dinner. Afterward we went walking around the shopping center. She suggested we go in Victoria’s Secret since it looked like they had some sale stuff. I hesitated but went in. I remember a decade ago that they never carried my size (which at the time was 32A), so I hardly go in there. I haven’t bought a decent bra in five years, so after measuring myself and doing some guess work (and wishful thinking) I figured my size was now 34B. The bras I have now are 34A, 32B, 36B, 36A. Well, they are all different brands, so it’s like a crapshoot.

I picked up a 34B one in the clearance and realized it looked kind of big for me, but I held on to it anyway. I picked up a 36A one for good measure and another 34B. In the dressing room I kept thinking, ‘Oh, 34Bs, please fit. I don’t want to be demoted!’ Lo and behold, they fit perfectly. Hooray!

You know, boobs to women are a lot like penises to…women. Size matters, but we all like different sizes, and those preferences tend to be an average. Most women big and small tend to think the ideal bra size is C. Same with penises, there is such a thing as too big and too small. I would say women’s preferences tend to be within the 6-9 inch range. Of course there are women who enjoy their DD boobs and men with 18 inch penises.

It seems for most men when it comes to boobs and penises, it’s the bigger the better. But really in the end, you just appreciate what you have. Like if a woman really loves a guy, and he knows how to use it, she won’t mind his four inch dick. And if a guy is getting laid, do you really think he’ll throw someone flat-chested out of bed? Uh, no.

Also, aesthetics are important. Small and perky is better than larger and saggy. Average and dildo-like is better than porn-star size and OMGWTFISTHATANDWHYISITSTARINGATME?!

But again, some may prefer the latter. You never know. It’s better to like what you have and find someone who will like it, too.

I finally took picture of the magazines I have collected that I am now planning on selling. I sat down and read through some of them, and my first reaction was, “Damn, I can’t believe how much has changed in five years.” Another reaction was, “Why the fuck did I read this shit?” Most of the magazines are women’s interest magazines, and if that’s true that this is what women are interested in, then women are interested in shit.

Fashion? Way to feed a bunch of women’s low self-esteem and spending addictions by telling them how much useless stuff they gotta have. It’s like Pokemon for women in their 20s and 30s. Fashion trends. Gotta catch ‘em all! P.S. Most of it is ugly.

Sex? Yes, it matters, but the way they talk about it? Oh, really? Please tell me 100 other ways for me to please my man (which by the way for the women who don’t have one, what a way to make them feel an even bigger need to have one). Honestly, the amount of space in women’s magazines on how to please a man is always much larger than the amount in men’s magazines on how to please women, and quite honestly men are the ones who need more help because if you wanna know how to please most men, two letters: B and J. Read an article on deep throating, and you’re good to go. Pleasing a woman? Even women need seminars on how to please themselves!

Celebrities? Okay, yes, all of my magazines I kept because of the celebrities, but usually it was for the pretty pictures or the keepsake value. Most of the articles are full of the same information even if the cover says, “Stuff You Didn’t Know About Blah Blah Blah.”

Beauty? Uh…is in the eye of the beholder. Half the shit they tell you to do will only make things worse. Most of the high price products they tell you to buy don’t work on most people. It’s like medication: works different on everyone. Gotta try ‘em all!!!

Health? Here’s a health secret they don’t tell you: mind over matter. Mental health has a great effect on physical health. Fat? Need to lose some pounds? Reading shitty magazines directed towards women with a little pocket change and low self-esteem clearly won’t help you feel good about yourself, and if you don’t feel good about yourself, you won’t be able to look good either. Also, you probably aren’t fat, and if you are, those dumb exercises and health tips won’t do shit except make you feel worse about yourself.

Yes, these magazines are shallow, but when you’re young and naive, you’ll look to anything to tell you how to live your life. I’m still young and naive, but I’d like to think I’m becoming a little more cynical every day.

I started a new blog where I can talk about all the things I deal with when it comes to my bipolar, depression, and other things. It’s actually nice to be completely anonymous and just say whatever. When I started this blog (the one you are reading right now), I decided to write it with the thought, ‘What if my boss found it?’ So I tried to keep it somewhat tame (of course sometimes I don’t). Also, I put my new blog on Blogger, so I can’t easily keep track of how many hits it’ll get. I think it’s better that way. Although I’m sure the searches people do that lead them to my blog would be funny.

I wish you cared a little.

My bestest best friend is someone I met in fourth grade. Even in elementary school, we fought a lot. It would be a lot of her upsetting me and then apologizing to me later about it. In the 16 years I’ve known her, it’s very rare that I’m the one pissing her off. Our relationship is the main reason why I tell people it’s necessary to fight with those you love. If you never fight, how will you know what you have is real? I have had many “friends” I would fight with once, and that would be the end of our friendship. Our bond wasn’t strong enough to last a petty argument.

She told me about another one of her friends who knew her husband was the one when she got really sick and he was there by her side. I told her that’s bullshit. It’s easy to care about someone and take care of them when they need you. It’s much harder to stay with someone when one or both of you are bored with your lives. It’s more of a test to stay with someone when you’re mad at them. What happens when you don’t need each other anymore? Will you still want to be around that person?

One of my friends (J) recently had problem with another friend (K). K basically wrote J a really long e-mail about how she’s a terrible friend. I read the e-mail, and what K said about J seemed true. J is very flaky, and she does a lot of things without explanation. I told J, “Yeah, you are a bad friend, but I love you anyway.” It seemed to me that K wanted J to be something she is not, and that they weren’t compatible at all. J still wanted to talk to K about it. J’s rationality also pissed K off, but I think it saved their friendship.

I also empathized with K because what K and J had been going through seemed similar to what I and another friend were going through. The biggest difference turned out to be that my friend didn’t give a shit about me or our friendship. I don’t even understand what happened or why it ended except that she got new friends and didn’t need me anymore. I told J, “You know, you actually aren’t a bad friend because you talked to K. You wanted to do what you can to stay her friend. That shows you care. Just the fact that you care means you’re a good friend. You’re a friend when it matters.” J jokingly said, “No, I really am a bad friend.” Then I told her about my “friend”, and she agreed that it sounds like she doesn’t care.

All of my closest friends have been my friends for at least five years, and what they all have in common is that they love me and accept the good and the bad. They don’t run away when my crazy gets severe, in fact they all want to help, and some of them are crazy themselves and can empathize. I have had huge arguments and falling outs with most of them, and they all made efforts to make up, and they mattered to me enough that I let them back in. We can talk to each other about anything, and love each other more for the extreme shit that makes other people go, “WTF?” They care about me no matter what and vice versa. I would do anything for them. Some of them have caused me extreme misery, but real friends understand it won’t always be rainbows and butterflies. The point is real friends care, and that’s all that matters.

There are a few things my mom would constantly tell me, and they would be good bits of advice, but for the most part I had to train myself to follow it. She’s a Virgo, and I’m a Pisces, so we are quite opposite. The one thing she said to me most is, “Be humble.” I have a lot of Fire in my birth chart and no Earth, so telling me to be humble is like telling an Air sign to shut the fuck up.

Another bit of advice she would tell me is not to constantly blame others. Her main example for this would be my dad. She said he’s miserable because he always blamed everyone else for his misery. It wasn’t until later that I realized this was true when he basically blamed her for having a stroke and being miserable the whole time they were married and for his kids hating him. All of those are his own fault. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to walk or maybe even be alive if it wasn’t for my mom helping him after his stroke. I stopped caring about him when I found a letter he wrote to my brother in which he calls our mother a whore.

So seeing the truth and importance to what my mom told me, anytime I blamed my unhappiness on someone else, I quickly took ownership of it and blamed myself. This was probably not the best idea since already I was one of those types of people who would feel guilty for anything and everything whether I had anything to do with it or not. It still became a habit, and since I’m a very rational person, even during my severe downs I would still have the same train of thought.

I was talking to one of my best friends recently about something, and after telling her the back story, I said it was really all my fault and why. She kind of looked at me questionably and said, “It’s great that you’re taking ownership of your own life, but come on, not all of it is your fault. It sounds like they had a lot to do with it, too.” All I could say it, “I guess.”

A part of me feels like if I put blame on the other person, I’ll start blaming people for things that really aren’t their fault. I’d rather blame myself for things that aren’t my fault than the other way around. Because what good does it do to blame someone else? You can’t change the other person. You can only change yourself, so at least when it’s your fault, you can do something about it. Right?

While going through my facebook newsfeed, it’s always interesting when people update their statuses with similar things, especially when the thing is completely random.

Today while going through it, I see one of my friends updated her status with: “when will i ever get over it all…?” And right below it, another friend (who doesn’t know the other friend) put: “is so over this”. I just found it really funny.