07.03.12

Monday Dare: Let’s do this shit

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. You can click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or learn more about its origin.

This week: Do it up big

I was faced with a difficult decision this morning. I could pony up $13.99 for Internet access to post this Monday Dare in a timely fashion. Or, I could use that money to buy six churros and wait until the afternoon to jack free access from my homegirl’s place of employment. Anyone who’s experienced the crispy-but-also-surprisingly-chewy goodness of a churro would agree that I made the right choice. This is also why I haven’t answered last week’s comments yet. Tomorrow, y’all. My value-seeking ways really fuck up my life sometimes. 
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As a kid, I noticed a trend among the other Korean immigrant families at church. No one Did It Up Big for holidays or birthdays. No ice cream cakes. No snowflake-shaped string of lights. No Candied Sugar Plum candles from Bath & Body Works flickering in the entranceway. Most disturbing was the lack of presents. Some people believe that the real joy of any special occasion is the company of loved ones and an abundance of laughter. You must be kidding. I would take an elaborately wrapped Memory Foam bath mat over my Uncle James’s jokes any goddamn day. How do a few chuckles compare to the pleasure of a mat that provides almost an inch of cushion against a cold bathroom floor while simultaneously wicking the moisture from my feet?

The family across the street Did It Up Big. They had a colorful flag for every special occasion. And not just the Big ‘Uns like Christmas or Thanksgiving. Every April 23rd, you better believe the custom-made “Celebrating ___Years of Love” flag with the delicate fringe around the edge would come out. I admired Mrs. Cameron’s forethought. Instead of ordering a new flag every year, her special creation sported velcro strips, allowing her to swap out just the numbers.

Everyone in the neighborhood looked forward to the Camerons’ Fourth of July barbecue bonanza. The invitation beckoned: “Show your spirit! Don red, white, and blue!” One year, I tried to convince my parents that all anyone really needed to throw these shindigs was a 12-piece patio set from Wal-Mart and a yellow water-resistant boombox. They insisted there was a lot more to it. I voiced my suspicions that perhaps my parents were really just being cheap and lazy. Important Lesson: Lobbing insults is NOT the best way to get what you want. Actually, maybe the Important Lesson here is not to be cheap and lazy.

It’s probably because the Universe has a twisted sense of humor, but I’m now guilty of the same offense: I am lazy about celebrations. I let holidays and other special occasions pass by with little fanfare. And Cal, just like her ma back in the day, thinks it’s bullshit. Well, she’s never actually said those exact words, but I assume that’s what’s going through her mind when she points to the seasonal decorations at the grocery store and gives me a sideways glance.

I got two days. Watch out, Wednesday. We’re going to celebrate the fuck out of the Fourth of July.

Do you make a big to-do about holidays and special occasions? What are you doing for the 4th?

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July 3, 2012
06.25.12

Monday Dare: Whatchu gonna do when they come for you?

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. You can click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or learn more about its origin.

This week: Face a fear

I’m afraid of cops. There, I said it.

Also, I never call a cop a “cop” to his face. I don’t think it’s derogatory or anything, but it seems a little too friendly and familiar. It’s always, “Yes, Mr. Law Enforcement Official, I agree it IS a bad idea to use my hands to act out a rap song rather than keeping them on the steering wheel,” or “No, Officer, I most certainly did NOT steal this Dora the Explorer doll from the little kid crying like a bitch in the corner.”

The few times I’ve been pulled over, I’ve never tried to finagle my way out of a ticket. I have my driver’s license, insurance, and registration in hand by the time the cop knocks on my window. Do I behave this way because I’m a good citizen? No, ma’am. It’s the fear all up in this motherfucking weenie heart of mine. It’s kept me on the straight and narrow though. I always come to a complete stop at stop signs. I’ve never murdered anyone. And even if I’m really hungry, I’ve never robbed a pedestrian for their sack lunch. 

So where does this unnatural fear come from? Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve never been to jail. You know how you inexplicably feel in your gut that you’d be good at something even though you’ve never tried it before? Maybe you’ve never been to a casino, but you know that you’d be an excellent poker player because the burned area on your toast looked like an ace of spades last Tuesday. “That’s the universe talking,” you say.

In that same way, I just know that I would NOT make a good prisoner. Sure, I would buddy around with a guard here and there to ensure decent treatment, but what about the inmates? I would have to learn French braiding or Shiatsu massage really goddamn fast because I suspect that without a special skill, them crazy bitches would gang up and steal my slippers. Then I would have to walk around prison barefoot. I shudder to think how long it’s been since those cement floors have been Swiffered.

I equate cops with jail. If I were smarter, I would know that cops don’t necessarily lead to jail, it’s getting into trouble. But that’s not how my mind works.

Unfortunately, I’ve passed my fear down to Cal. Years ago, when I rolled down my window at a checkpoint one night, she shouted loudly enough for the officer to hear, “PO PO NO!” Ever seen a five-year-old duck down in her Graco booster seat trying to evade the law? Well, someone in the Los Angeles Police Department has now witnessed it. Now, I make positive statements like, “Oh, look at that NICE policeman,” when she’s in the car. I assume that’s what Good Parents do.

I don’t know how I’m working through this Monday Dare. There’s a precinct not far from my house. I suppose I’ll just bring some rice krispies by and hang out and shoot the shit. And I assure you, that’s all I’ll be shooting.

Any irrational/unnatural/unexplained fears?
Run-ins with the law? Both good and not-so-good.

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June 25, 2012