Tag Archives: VH1

this week in Asian: I'm awesome.

  • I hepped the ladies at Disgrasian™ to a Salon story on Penn Masala, and their awesome song, “The Facebook Skit”.
  • I couldn’t make myself watch A Shot At Love With Tila Tequila, which premiered on VH1 last night. I said a few days ago that she’s taken the place of Kim Jong-Il in that she is the person who makes me feel ashamed to be Asian, but I want to step back (if only I can give more thought to the question). But the real debate is: who is the Vietnamese American Gallant to Tila’s Goofus? My nominee thus far is Project Runway season 2 winner, Chloe Dao.

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Filed under Asian, race, television

323: am i wrong?

{image onlyolivia.com}1. things on telly

I was watching VH1 Classic last week (shut up, you know you watch it too — and don’t think I don’t know about that Spin Doctors CD hidden under your bed), and I happened to catch a pair of Beastie Boys videos, one old and one new. It was funny to see 21 year old Beasties cavorting on a beach with bikini-clad honeys in the video for “She’s On It”, trying to give a girl a drink spiked with spanish fly and wearing fake moustaches to disguise themselves. Then fast forward 20 years to their latest video for “Right Right Now Now”, which has them jumping around and freezing mid-air in Times Square with Mix Master Mike.

I like this program — it reminded me of how cute the Boys were, and still are. And in video pairs for other artists you can see Mariah pre- and post-’Glitter’! Whitney before and after crack! Michael Jackson before and after the surgeries that transformed him from a totally cute guy into an alien female impersonator.

Oh, and my old U of C classmate Linara is at it again, this time in a McDonald’s commercial where she’s having breakfast with some girlfriends in the back of a car. The car hits a pothole, their breakfasts fly in the air, and each girl ends up with a different item, which they still munch happily. This is totally a testament to Linara’s gift as an actress, as I can totally relate. I love McDonald’s breakfast, especially in the back of a car. Though if everything would have flown up in the air I would have ended up eating it all.

TWoP still isn’t recapping ‘Degrassi: The Next Generation’, though I’ve seen mentions of it recently in the New York Times, Teen People, and the TV Guide web site. I’ll start recapping at http://degrassidish.blogspot.com once The N resumes airing season 4 on Friday, November 26. I know only about three of you will care about this, but I cannot be stopped.

2. clarifications

Re: Mr. Oats’s Noteses — The Noteses are not written by me but by a pop culture think tank known as the Famous Artists Collective. So please subscribe to them, in addition to as opposed to instead of ‘news from the flip front’. They’re two great tastes that taste great together, like milk and cookies, pizza and beer, Coca-Cola and cigarettes.

Re: Kevin’s iBook — I forgot to mention that when Kevin’s computer came back from repairs (Kevin didn’t see Hot Colin at the Genius Bar, in case you were wondering), we went back to his place to test his wi-fi (still working) and send instant messages. To each other. While we sat next to each other on his futon.

3. weekend

a. Friday

Jacinda and I couldn’t think of anything to do, so we drove to Kevin’s so we could bug him. He had some friends coming in to town so we watched television. Jacinda knit and I clicked her clicker whenever she finished a row. Matthew, Natasha, and Tyson arrived around 9pm, after which we all went out to dinner (because they didn’t bring butter burgers from Culver’s damn them). Except for Tyson, who was staying with some other friends and took off.

Walking down Western Avenue to Arturo’s, Jacinda and I hung back while we noticed that both Joe and Matthew were wearing baggy jeans that did nothing to enhance their posteriors. “Hey Jasmine,” Jacinda quipped. “They’re a couple of ass-less chaps!” And boy, how we laughed.

We had to split up into two booths at Arturo’s, so I sat with Joe and Jacinda. Mostly about baby names just because I have to convince them that, should they choose to have children, they should name their first daughter after me. I mean, if it wasn’t for me flaking on this party that I had at Jacinda’s apartment, the two of them never would have met and gotten together in the first place! I’m just saying.

After dinner, we walked to the Map Room, if only to get away from the gang members throwing signs and yelling at a dark SUV full of rival gang members who were also throwing signs and yelling. More yelling ensued at the Map Room, as the music was too loud and I’ve never been much of a screamer (bit of a moaner, actually) so we walked home. Kevin, Natasha, and Matthew continued on to Rich’s and then Big Chicks while I curled up in my bed, and Joe and Jacinda drove back to the ‘burbs.

b. Saturday

Puttered around the apartment. Did dishes, put away clothes in hamper but did not actually do laundry for the third weekend in a row. Put away makeup, ate cereal and watched ‘Tampopo’ instead of the episode of ‘The OC’ that I taped Thursday night. Kevin called me to invite me out to breakfast, so wandered over to his place. Watched the last bit of ‘Fargo’, got in Jeep and drove up to the Cozy Corner. Their pancakes were really good. Our booth was next to the picture window where we saw an elderly Latino man affix a set of speakers to the roof of his car, made fun of a hipster wearing a goatee and an ugly knit cap, and cracked up at a radio station billboard which advertised a program called “Freakin’ Puerto Rican”.

Kevin dropped me off before he drove Matthew and Natasha around the city for a tour of the south and north sides. Kathy picked me up so we could hit a matinee of “Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason” which was not a masterpiece. I still enjoyed it though, especially the following bits: Colin Firth dripping wet in a fountain (a reference to Firth as dripping wet Darcy in BBC ‘Pride & Prejudice’?); Hugh Grant shirt open at the neck during beachside sunset dinner; Renee Zellweger’s Bridget trying to buy home pregnancy test. Whilst on skis. In a Swiss pharmacy. Too bad she was photographed so horribly in this film. What was the director thinking? In the first movie (which wasn’t so great, either, but I loved it, too), Bridget looked lush while she looked positively lumpy in the sequel. None of the other female characters seemed to fare much better. Theories? At some point, Hugh Grant as Daniel Cleaver talked about what attracted him to Bridget in the first place, and these were things I remembered from the first movie. So wha’ happened?

After the movie, while Kathy used the loo, I people-watched and counted the following: ugly knit ponchos. Pointy-toed heels. Marc Jacobs knockoffs. Newsboy caps. Velour tracksuits. It was awful. Of course, I was clad in Dansko clogs, baggy bootcut jeans, an oversized navy hoodie, and a sky blue pashmina scarf wrapped around my neck. Shut up, I’m a fashion icon.

After Kathy dropped me off at home, I considered wearing that same outfit to Foster and Carly’s housewarming party. I would be comfortable, sure, but I’d also look a bit like a grown-up Asian version of Harriet The Spy. So on went the black trousers and burgundy Dior golf v-neck sweater. Put in the dangling Vegas showgirl earrings. I had tried as best I could to blowdry my hair straight earlier in the day, and got it kinda looking like Jaclyn Smith’s when she was on Charlie’s Angels in the 70s. I put it up, just to get it out of the way, though I did have to admit that it looked pretty when it was down. Parted it down the middle — kinda severe. Parted it on left — made my face look fatter. Parted it on right — um, no. Maybe I should start wearing wigs, I thought, as I moved on to putting on makeup (itemized below for Stef’s approval):

  • MAC eyeshadow in Patina on lids
  • MAC eyeshadow in Aria on eyebrows (applied with MAC brush no. 263)
  • Almay i-Liner in Precise Black on upper outer lashline
  • Cover Girl Fresh Complexion Pocket Powder foundation in Soft Honey
  • NARS blush in Zen on cheeks
  • MAC lip pencil in Stripdown all over lips (after a coat of Smith’s
  • Rosebud Salve as lip balm)
  • Stila lipstick in Salome

I have to admit, I thought I looked pretty damn hot. The skeevy looking guys at the gas station where I bought ice for the party seemed to think so, too. I’m sure if I had seen Jacinda she would have trilled her approval, but she stayed home to do some research for her mom. I felt social, but not social enough to talk to anybody new. I hung out with Joe, Rozi, Andrew, Jen, Jeremy, Helen, and Matt L. by the working fireplace. Admired the master bath, complete with Jacuzzi tub. Ate a great deal of cheese. Mourned Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s death. Checked out the cute boys at the party. Smoked cigarettes with Jen on the front porch. When Andrew and Rozi made motions to leave, I left Jen by the fireplace to cadge a lift from them. I had run out of the cash, and didn’t want to hit the ATM for another $20 for another cab ride home by myself to my couch, my cable, my down comforter and another showing of ‘The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of The Desert’ on IFC. We squeezed into Rozi’s bug, me and Rozi in the front, and Andrew, Jeremy, Matt L, and Helen squeezed into the back. Once we were loaded into the car, I wanted to cruise around and do something teenagery like go to a drive-in and eat greasy hamburgers, but this was Wicker Park, way too gentrified for such foolishness.

c. Sunday

The supas brunch was just me, Kevin, Kathy, Natasha, and Matthew. Instead of cooking or eating very tasty but very expensive lox, we went to Wishbone for pancakes and corn muffins and crawfish cakes and grits and salmon cakes and red beans and rice and cafe au lait. We talked about the election. Or, rather, Matthew, Kevin, and Kathy talked politics while I inhaled my breakfast and just listened. Back to Kevin’s to finish up talking while Matthew and Natasha packed up. Tyson picked them up, and the visitors from the North were gone.

Last night, after I got home and assumed my cozy position on the couch, I watched The Simpsons, read a wedding announcement of a Brearley/U Chicago classmate in the New York Times. Her wedding announcement was correct in listing her myriad accomplishments and degrees, but didn’t tell me anything about the girl I had gone to school with for six years. She had naturally wavy hair that she blew dry straight every day. She smoked Marlboro’s and had her own Tiffany lighter at 16. She never ate at the dining hall except for the three times I saw her, and then we usually just skipped the meal so we could sit outside and smoke. I only saw her wear black or dark brown, usually tight and cut to show off her flat-as-a-pancake midriff.

Jacinda came over after hanging out at her mom’s. We drank Pepsi, smoked cigarettes, and surfed the web for embarrassing pictures of people we disliked. Considering how many people that is, we found very little. I guess we must not have been trying very hard.

*songs*

ELO – Don’t Walk Away; The Pretenders – Don’t Get Me Wrong; Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam – Head to Toe; Ol’ Dirty Bastard – Brooklyn Zoo

*links*

http://www.uppermidleft.com/mpls15chicago

http://www.chengwin.com

http://nytimesweddings.blogspot.com/2004/11/adventures-in-infidelity.html

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