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tuesday</category><category>maui</category><category>vacation</category><category>kumquats</category><category>fallen down</category><category>tony stark</category><category>dude list</category><category>hippies</category><category>iron man the movie</category><category>assassins</category><category>pavement</category><category>haircut</category><category>friend code</category><category>patsy cline</category><category>honey</category><category>wii</category><category>burning bridges</category><category>fat jack's comic crypt</category><category>sigur ros</category><category>picnics</category><category>windsor knots</category><category>business cards</category><category>star</category><category>hang on tomato</category><category>blog</category><category>animal style</category><category>dark knight</category><category>bubble tea</category><category>wonder woman wizard world</category><category>face</category><category>yellow fever</category><category>chinked in</category><category>coats</category><category>wooing</category><category>old friends</category><category>retro girl</category><category>food</category><category>seattle</category><category>dollhouse</category><category>walking dead</category><category>retard</category><category>exs</category><category>paranoia</category><category>TRKFLD catalog</category><category>snow</category><category>donna troy</category><category>dolly parton</category><category>metrosexual</category><title>the littlest mushroom</title><description>little asian girl in the big city</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>107</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LittleAsianGirlInTheBigCity" /><feedburner:info xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" uri="littleasiangirlinthebigcity" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-1642460927527528687</guid><pubDate>Wed, 08 May 2013 15:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-05-08T11:55:47.039-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">philly</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">goodbye gifts</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">bff</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">art</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">miss you</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">comic</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">drawing</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">LA</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">friendships</category><title>when goodbye gifts become gone gifts</title><description>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hp2X-Kfp8Ag/UYp00moO20I/AAAAAAAAAVc/OX6dbdxVcbQ/s1600/photo%5B2%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hp2X-Kfp8Ag/UYp00moO20I/AAAAAAAAAVc/OX6dbdxVcbQ/s1600/photo%5B2%5D.JPG" mwa="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
it has been a long time since i have blogged and for that my dear readers, i apologize. i promise to blog more often as i do miss it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
anyhow, my best friend and her husband recently moved from philly to the land of blondes and spray tans, yes, you guessed it, LA.&amp;nbsp; even though in philly, they lived 15 minutes from me, i had the comfort of knowing that they were there. right in the city.&amp;nbsp; i could text or call my bff and she would come over to do crafts, draw and watch korean horror movies while munching on dried seaweed. now, yes, we could still do that, but one of us would need to jump on an aeroplane and after a 6 hour flight, the craft night horrorfest would be a go! totally not the same.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
even with skype, IM, chats, texts, emails, instagram, etc. these are all poor substitutes for a bff. i know a lot of people in philly, but i only hang out with a few people, mostly because i hate crowds and i think i am a bit quirky that not everyone can relate to me. but my bff gets me. she understands that i would rather stay in on a friday night and sketch and doodle while watching a marathon of firefly than sitting at a bar where i can't hear anything but limp bizkit blaring. ew.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
when my bff told me she was moving, i think i was in a bit of denial. LA sucks. LA has freeways. who bikes in LA?! why is everyone so tall in LA?! LA is not philly. i remember she told me she was moving at my birthday dinner. it didnt seem real. as the month of may got closer and closer, it sunk in that this was real. granted, i have had friends move and i have moved, but it never gets easier. my other bff (who is the twin sister of my bff moving. i know confusing right? just try to follow along) arranged to have a going away party. it was at the house of a girl who i didnt really know. anxiety hit for me. awkward to show up to a party at the home of someone you dont know. the night of the party, i showed up with my friends marshall and brendan. they were posse for the night. i bought mini cupcakes for the party. we showed up early. after a few hours, my bff and her hubby showed up. which was a relief to me since i had spent the night just eating grilled chicken and asparagus as i believe my chit chat was not cool enough for some. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i got to chat with my bff for a bit and as i left she assured me we would meet up before she was leaving, which was in 4 days. i didnt say gbye then since it wasnt time. instead, i gave big hugs and said let me know when we are brunching since i have a gift for you. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
people who know me know that i do drawings. i do monster drawings. i do doodles. i worked on a ink and pencil drawing for my bff. i went and got a frame for it. i spent time thinking about it and what i should draw. it is an arduous process, but once i am done, i am proud to give the drawing away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
the days went by and nothing. when i did get a text to meet up, it was while i was working and across town. oh phooey. i stared at my drawing that i had done. i felt sad that i didnt get to say goodbye. i got cheated out of that. now as i look at my goodbye gift i feel foolish. goodbye gift? they already have moved away. i remember texting her that i needed her LA addy so i could mail the gift. my cute goodbye gift is now a "youre gone" gift. it doesnt sound as pleasant. well, neither sound pleasant, but good thing drawings dont expire. they keep real well. i just hope so does my friendship. i hope it doesnt expire. :(&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
send me hugs. i miss my bff.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
xo, pearly&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2013/05/when-goodbye-gifts-become-gone-gifts.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hp2X-Kfp8Ag/UYp00moO20I/AAAAAAAAAVc/OX6dbdxVcbQ/s72-c/photo%5B2%5D.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-675666406701698194</guid><pubDate>Wed, 17 Oct 2012 15:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2012-10-17T11:32:02.730-04:00</atom:updated><title>in touch</title><description>for the past few months, i have had several friends from college reach out to me. calling me at work. emailing me. etc. one was an ex boyfriend: the first boy to break my heart.&amp;nbsp; another was a best friend who professed his love to me senior year and i did not feel the same way and i was in a relationship.&amp;nbsp; the third was a friend who had a crush on me.&amp;nbsp; fourth was my first boyfriend in college. lastly, an aquaintance from college who&amp;nbsp;basically emailed me how much of a joke college was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
it was a surprise to hear from all of them.&amp;nbsp; my memories of each all differ. some are more vivid. some are blurry. some are sweet. some are sad. some are both.&amp;nbsp; it is kind of nice to hear from someone from your past who knew you when you didn't know anything, but thought you could conquer the world. that was/is me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i am more comfortable in my own skin now. college was just like high school, except it cost more.&amp;nbsp; as each person from my past called or emailed me, i was brought back to those college days. all of us staying up all night talking, goofing off, the newness of our friendships. it was an exhilerating time.&amp;nbsp; first, my friend who professed his love to me senior year, called me at work. he sounded the same and still had his great laugh. he called to apologize for being a dick to me. i replied, i don't think you were. he said, i was. i was angry that you didnt love me back and wanted to stay with your boyfriend at the time. i paused. it is easier to break up a couple in the movies than it is in real life.&amp;nbsp; true. true. we chatted for over an hour. both of us in happy points in our lives. we made plans to keep in touch. whether or not this happens, not sure, but it was nice while it lasted. he knew me when i would stay late at the art studio listening to beastie boys and pharcyde and be covered in paint. he knew me when i cried when my crush told me he thought of me as a little sister. he knew me when we sit on my porch, he would smoke and we would listen to music. he knew me when i didnt curse and wore silver pants and plaid doc martens. he knew me when i was still trying to figure out me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i heard from my first boyfriend. the boyfriend who i broke his heart. the funny thing about breakups is that no one really walks away without any scars. but, in time, everything and everyone does heal. he is in a good spot and holds nothing against me. it is ironic since i broke up with him to be with the ex who broke my heart. it all comes full circle, right? all of us havent held any grudges or anything. but, it was nice to get an apology. neither of my exes were bad people, we were just not right together. it is funny how these past friends get my quirks and only they would understand the inside jokes we had in college. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
we all impact people, friends, etc. in some small and sometimes in a big way. as i received all these contacts and each explained how i impacted their life, i was touched. i never knew i had such an impact. i would be lying if i said it didnt feel good to hear that i have and still am the same pearly. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SdmHU6lvL_w/UH7PVuTY7KI/AAAAAAAAASo/553pGJ_MJy0/s1600/mug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" nea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SdmHU6lvL_w/UH7PVuTY7KI/AAAAAAAAASo/553pGJ_MJy0/s320/mug.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;change is good, yes. but i aint broken, so why bother fixing? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2012/10/in-touch.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SdmHU6lvL_w/UH7PVuTY7KI/AAAAAAAAASo/553pGJ_MJy0/s72-c/mug.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-172737129980277686</guid><pubDate>Thu, 16 Jun 2011 19:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-06-16T15:46:32.254-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">misseable and forgettable</category><title>misseable and forgettable</title><description>i lead a crazy life. ok, not so crazy, but i am busy with just life itself. i am human. i forget to stay in touch with friends. i am bad that way. i tend to keep in touch with friends further away than the ones who live right here in philly. i do text friends to see what is going on. sometimes i get response. sometimes i dont. sometimes i wonder if my texts go to cyberspace black hole of some sort. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my question is this, dear bloggers, how can people claim to miss you, yet forget to get in touch with you. can one be missed and forgotten at the same time? i think so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;again, we are all guilty of this. but i think we all have to admit, it is nice to be missed by good friends. it is even better when we don't forget why we are good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2011/06/misseable-and-forgettable.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>19</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-2715634793217095363</guid><pubDate>Thu, 10 Feb 2011 22:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-02-10T17:46:17.257-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">in love with love</category><title>do cheaters ever change?</title><description>why are all your comics so sad? me: they' aren't. they have a lot of breakups and heartbreaks. me: but, it isn't sad. just shows it wasn't meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to have issues and i am not referring to comics. :) as far as i can remember, a vast majority of my past boyfriends have all cheated on me. sometimes i knew, but most of the time, i didn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the worse feeling i remember was thinking ok, he cheated on me. then seeing who they cheated with and realizing it wasn't just one, but a queue. for awhile, i thought all guys cheat and if they didn't, they thought about it. for awhile, i thought something was wrong with me. i needed to change. i should do this or less of that, etc. having a guy make me feel insecure when i was already so uncertain of myself made me so timid and frustrated. i remember crying in my room and listing things wrong with myself. i remember thinking how each of these ex boyfriends found some way to put it on me as if it was my fault they cheated. the funny thing is, not one of these exs admitted to cheating on me. it was always through a friend or me walking in on them cheating or the next flavor of the month telling me. i think i would have at least respected them a bit if they just fessed up. but none did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at the time, my heart felt as if it would never heal. it did and i am happy with love and have a valentine, but for everyone out there who doesn't, realize that not all boys are evil or clueless. i don't want anyone to feel sad on valentines day because it is a lame holiday. don't mope and think of your breakups, heartbreaks, etc. instead, know that it really is their loss. i never believed it when friends told me that, but it is true. and know that those ex boyfriends will realize it and are kicking themselves to know they messed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and with that, i wanna say no one cares about valentines day, but we all do care about love. i will and still remain in love with love. cheesy as it is. but, i am no proponent of pink and red. ew. who thought of that colour combo?</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2011/02/do-cheaters-ever-change.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>14</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-7318058322830616774</guid><pubDate>Wed, 12 Jan 2011 18:07:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2011-01-12T14:58:42.762-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">breaking up with friends</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">new friends</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">old friends</category><title>breaking up friendships</title><description>i tweeted a bit ago how i think it is wierd how we "break up" with friends. you can fall out of friendship with someone. i understand we all can through transitions and major event changes, but we all remain friends, and close friends with some people. i can count on one hand my steady crew. i have gone through events and changes and these 5 people all remain in my life and they are integral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you have snow days, you begin to think about stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are people i have known for ages who know me no better than my co workers and there are some people who i haven't know as long, speaking time wise, who get me. quality over quantity. simple math, i get it, i know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that sometimes i am the one who breaks the friendship and other times it just is a mutual fade out or it is the other party who breaks it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for example, i believe any of my friends who move from philly to nyc will no doubt be engulfed in the i need to be the coolest person in nyc so i need to diss philly attitude and we will lose touch. it is strange since nyc is only 2 hours away from philly, but might as well be guam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i also think just because you have known someone for a long time, doesn't mean you are good friends. it also doesn't establish a friendship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the best thing is not having or avoiding the break up and just having the friendship mutually fade out. sometimes distance, lack of common ground or you just realize hey this person is an idiot, all point to break up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i am a good friend, but as of late, i have been breaking up with friends it seems. perhaps i am not as good a friend as i think i am. &lt;br /&gt;if i ask my friends, they will tell you i rock. if you ask my ex friends, they may say that or say pearl who? or grunt disapproval. i feel like i haven't changed as a person. lots of things have happened to me, but i am still me. i don't go out looking for new friends, i'll just stick with the good ones i have.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2011/01/breaking-up-friendships.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>10</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-476816941168385052</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Dec 2010 16:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-12-21T15:09:55.698-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">high school days</category><title>holiday run ins</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.navtones.com/media/image/Daria-TeenNick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 406px; height: 270px;" src="http://www.navtones.com/media/image/Daria-TeenNick.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;holidays bring back people. you go to parties. you go to dinners. all these events for me mean i will eventually run into people from my high school. i hated my high school. if mean were a student, he would have been at my school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i purposefully did not go to a college where most of these mean people would go, ie. duke, villanova, pennstate, etc. yet, even in philly, i run into these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;holidays means people are home visiting and encounters are inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fact: if i did not like you in high school, i probably won't like you now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fact: if you bullied me in high school, i definitely don't like you and won't like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fact: if you told people we dated in high school, you are a liar since i wasn't allowed to date anyone until college. so stop telling people we dated. you know who you all are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fact:  just because you knew one of my good friends from high school does not make us good friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fact:  i do not want to talk about what the old gang is up to because i didn't have a gang in high school. i hung out with 5 people and no, you were not part of that 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is odd to me that people wanna talk about their glory days. their glory days involved being mean to people, bullying people. these are your glory days? what a sad life you have.  why would i want to reconnect with these people?! these are the people i escaped from. granted, being in this school motivated me to study harder so i could escape earlier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know, i know. sometimes people change. but, i don't think that is always so. just because you recognize me and wanna give me a summary of everything that has happened in your life since graduation does not mean you have changed. it may mean you are stuck in high school mode.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't mean to sound harsh, dear readers. but, i cannot stand there with a smile and pretend that these people matter to me. they didn't then and they don't know. philly is a village and i understand it is inevitable that i run into former alums. fortunately, my real life is awesome and i don't need to talk about homecoming games and proms. real life is better than high school cliques, dances, and crushes. it just is. and that is my last fact. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/12/holiday-run-ins.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-2431068315739168737</guid><pubDate>Thu, 16 Dec 2010 23:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-12-17T14:13:23.132-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">four eyes</category><title>the trouble with my eyes</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TQu2P_GdybI/AAAAAAAAAR0/AVLEJ8I45b4/s1600/glasses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TQu2P_GdybI/AAAAAAAAAR0/AVLEJ8I45b4/s320/glasses.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551731351417113010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't get called four eyes, i get called worse things. last week, as i was walking in rittenhouse square (for you nonphilly folks, it is a big shopping district with tourists, townies, the like all wearing too much makeup and with lots of tiny yippy dogs) around lunchtime. i often take walks by myself at lunch to think. i had on my ipod and my winter urban eskimo gear on, ie. hat, scarf, mittens, etc. i was walking on the sidewalk and i wasn't nor do i take up a lot of room. walking my quick pace. being in a city, everyone is in a rush or seems to be. as i continue my thinking and my walking, an older gentleman is heading towards me and as we pass each other, he shoulders me. hard. strange, i thought since we were the only 2 on the sidewalk. as he shouldered me, he says to me, "nice eyes, GOOK!" i was shocked. my reaction? i turn around and say to the pushy man, "excuse me, can you clarify?" now, why did i ask him this? first, it was noisy out and i had my ipod on, perhaps i heard incorrectly? second, wasn't sure if he was complimenting me and the insulting me, (later i realized he didn't say, "you have beautiful eyes, gook" and yes, the use of the word gook does negate any positive comment intended). he turns and says it again clearly and i did not hear wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people amaze me. here is a man, so proud in his racism that he repeats it to me. yes, i did ask him to clarify, but he must have been shocked that i spoke english. his thought bubble, "oh sh*t, she understands english!"</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/12/trouble-with-my-eyes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TQu2P_GdybI/AAAAAAAAAR0/AVLEJ8I45b4/s72-c/glasses.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>9</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-8457830740267189594</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Nov 2010 19:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-11-01T15:52:15.228-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">halloween</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">go go yaburi</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">assassins</category><title>post halloween</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TM8aUeiKgxI/AAAAAAAAARs/rkNcrGCJOfU/s1600/halloween+posse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TM8aUeiKgxI/AAAAAAAAARs/rkNcrGCJOfU/s320/halloween+posse.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534671406157693714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TM8ZkROtYlI/AAAAAAAAARk/y5HixkNvb8c/s1600/go+go.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TM8ZkROtYlI/AAAAAAAAARk/y5HixkNvb8c/s320/go+go.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534670577952711250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;halloween is one of my favorite holidays. it is right up there after chinese new year. granted, i love dressing up, but being of asian descent gives me a limited selection. in the past, i have been connie chung (sans the maury povich), short round, deadly miho, battle royale, bruce lee from game of death, a chinese delivery dude, asami from the movie audition, well, you get it. i go asian, or i go home. this year, i attempted to do lady vengeance, but without old boy and mister vengeance, who would know?! so i went a bit mainstream and was go go yaburi. i assumed this character is pretty recognizeable. i was wrong. but as you can see from the photos, i still loved being in character. for instance, walking to the first halloween party, of course, wrong directions and i end up walking onto a side street that has a dead end. i know, very wrong turn bad movie. i walked past a party where there was about 6 hipster dudes smoking outside. one guy was dressed as a banana. of course, i am certain if i had said, "nice banana costume" his reply would have been, "i am not a banana. god. i'm a plantain!!!!" yesh. so this is the group smoking outside on the stoop and as i walked by, the conversation stops. uncomfortable no? i walked by with my ball and chain in hand in my school girl outfit. then as i get to the end of the dead end and realized i had made a wrong turn, i now have to walk past these same guys again. so i did that. they stop talking and look at me and then i wait for it, the snide remarks. and then they start. i could have just screamed, "WHAT?!!!!" and swung my fake ball and chain and just screamed some high pitch note. instead, i just replied to them, "what costume?" and kept walking, fast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;halloween is great because we get to dress up and just be another character for the night. it reminds me of that buffy episode where the scooby gang dress up for halloween and become their characters, ie. the southern belle, the army dude, a ghost. i stop to think, hmmmm, me as gogo yaburi? stranger things have happened, folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually, those pics of my girls and i, it makes me giggle to say costumes since we wear that stuff anyways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, fyi to the drunks who smashed my pumpkins, you all are lame.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/11/post-halloween.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TM8aUeiKgxI/AAAAAAAAARs/rkNcrGCJOfU/s72-c/halloween+posse.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-1504931955279501897</guid><pubDate>Tue, 03 Aug 2010 19:44:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-08-05T13:43:35.953-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">swoon</category><title>things that make me swoon</title><description>i am afterall a strange little girl. i cry at almost everything. i giggle at inappropriate times. i don't just laugh, i snort. that being said, there are a few things that without fail make my little heart skip a beat. here's an inkling:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) chubby asian babies, especially halfies! =)&lt;br /&gt;2) ice cream dates&lt;br /&gt;3) seeing little birds bathing in street puddles&lt;br /&gt;4) holding hands&lt;br /&gt;5) cranking the a/c high and piling two blankets on and watching horror movies all night&lt;br /&gt;6) sitting and reading together in comfortable silence&lt;br /&gt;7) hearing someone say "wicked awesome" and not being sarcastic or ironic about it&lt;br /&gt;8) being called darling&lt;br /&gt;9) when i get the last bite of dessert&lt;br /&gt;10) when i don't get corrected for all my mixed up metaphors&lt;br /&gt;11) being told i miss you even if it's only been a day apart&lt;br /&gt;12) eskimo kisses&lt;br /&gt;13) tom selleck mustaches&lt;br /&gt;14) people who aren't afraid to dance, even if they dance badly&lt;br /&gt;15) glasses&lt;br /&gt;16) freckles&lt;br /&gt;17) the smell of pipe tobacco&lt;br /&gt;18) love letters&lt;br /&gt;19) people who appreciate my swatch collection&lt;br /&gt;20) anybody who can beat me in tekken, mortal kombat or gauntlet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, this list is always ever expanding...</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/08/things-that-make-me-swoon.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-2886672257508687604</guid><pubDate>Mon, 14 Jun 2010 19:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-06-28T15:51:59.579-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">knives chau</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">wizard comic con</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Philly comic con</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Scott pilgrim</category><title>Philly Comic Con, you broke my heart</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TCj9Qb8kDYI/AAAAAAAAARQ/VoaV79OXrxY/s1600/phillynote.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TCj9Qb8kDYI/AAAAAAAAARQ/VoaV79OXrxY/s320/phillynote.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487914604772461954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TCj9BOyvYYI/AAAAAAAAARI/Ehb6TG69Q8Y/s1600/knives.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TCj9BOyvYYI/AAAAAAAAARI/Ehb6TG69Q8Y/s320/knives.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487914343543562626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to the Philly Comic Con every year is a treat for me. i look forward to it. i plan on what i want to buy, who i want to meet, what games i want to play, etc. it is an exhausting weekend, but one filled with my dreams of wizards, centaurs, elves, warlocks, klingons and link. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;philly comic con is smaller than NYCC and SDCC, but to me, it is comfortable. people here do more cosplay and everyone is laid back and chill. there is no air of pretentiousness. just people who like to read comics, role play, video game, or the like coming together in a huge convention center with no ac on and browsing comics and trades and swords in the stench of body odor and hot dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this year, my friend andy hooked me and my peeps up with VIP passes, so we got to bypass the line, which was INSANE! it went into freaking chinatown! all these lines and no organization! wth wizard world?! bypassing people with our wristbands, i felt like people in the line were gonna jump us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this year, i decided to go as KNIVES CHAU from the scott pilgrim series. i figured with all the hype with the movie, there surely would be a ramona flowers there. NO. i did see a big girl with a blue wig. but she was not ramona, just blue and big. so here i am dressed as knives chau, based on the comic, i haven't seen any clips from the movie, so i didn't base my appearance on the movie version. i spent 2 hours cutting each letter of my shirt by hand and then hem gluing them to my shirt. this is a tedious and arduous process. i do not recommend, but all 4 art stores i went to did not have iron on letters. argh! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as you can see from the pic, i managed to pull off knives chau. i was pleased that a handful of people there recognized who I was and would shout, "knives!" a few people even managed to come up to me and talk about the Scott pilgrim series and upcoming movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even so, it seems if one isn't dressed as a character from marvel or DC comics, no one had any clue. The world of comics expands beyond those two labels!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon entering comic con, I was shocked by the downsizing. I didn't see the usual cosplayers there, no fat spiderman with his fanny pack. If you are reading this fat spiderman, know that you were missed. There were a lot of blades/daywalkers. No shazam or aquaman. Ha. I guess we can live without aquaman. He's useless on land anyways! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There wasn't a gaming section for the ps3 or the usual halo tournament since E3 was about to go on. Shatner bailed. Thank goodness Picard was still a show, sporting a soccer shirt mind you. Such a handsome man! Bruce Campbell showed up for about an hour I heard. This con seemed more about selling products, for example, the kin, the fiesta car. I want to buy trades, magic cards, manga and art from new and old favorite artists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artist alley was filled with some artists looking like they hated being in Philly. Sigh. Most of the writers and artists that I adore were not in Philly and/or do not do Philly or were not invited. You KNOW WHO you all are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got bumped around a lot since the way tables were set up seemed not to induce a good or effective traffic flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sound like a big complainer. But, I love comic cons. I do. The Philly comic con is my favorite ex boyfriend. The nice guy who I dumped but still think he is awesome. Now, philly comic con isn't the nice guy anymore. He is now lame. We have to go our separate ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am leaving Philly comic con for nycc and then sdcc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we can still get together for scones though. No quickies though. Strictly platonic.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/06/philly-comic-con-you-broke-my-heart.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/TCj9Qb8kDYI/AAAAAAAAARQ/VoaV79OXrxY/s72-c/phillynote.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-3674398000557562323</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 May 2010 18:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-05-18T15:39:55.821-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sequel to me</category><title>things about me</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S_Ls8drrkrI/AAAAAAAAARA/yiB_kwu3EPY/s1600/pearly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S_Ls8drrkrI/AAAAAAAAARA/yiB_kwu3EPY/s320/pearly.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472697020712719026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awhile ago, i listed thing i do that make me an oddity. see post title "staring contest with my coffee." consider this post sort of a sequel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things people don't know about me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have freckles on my nose, but you have to lean in to see them. i don't cover them up and like being a little asian girl with a scattering of freckles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a scar on my neck. i tell people it was from a knife fight in chinatown, but that isn't the real reason...or is it?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i forget that i have a tattoo. i got my tattoo at a biker bar in baltimore. they had dentist chairs set up and wyett earp was playing on the television as the needle went in me. also, when getting a tattoo on one's back, there is no need to remove one's pants. the tattoo guy tried to tell me differently. nice try. pants stay on! ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i roll my eyes a lot in response to people. i do this even when i am on the phone, responding to emails, etc. i don't know why i do this since i don't do this in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;raisins freak me out. they are little and wrinkly and just give me the creeps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still get nightmares from watching horror movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm known as the "nice" one among my circle of friends. although i don't think i am always that nice. perhaps my friends are just really mean?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still write fan mail to artists and writers that i adore. my first fan letter was to william shatner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was little, i hated my nose and tried to pinch it everyday so it wouldn't look so "asian."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my ears are really small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;upon graduating law school, i had to take out all my piercings. anyways, nobody wants a lawyer in tats and piercings, right? haha. law school was fun. haha. i also sported red hair, purple and blonde. i have long accepted my black hair is fine just the way it is. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while in lawschool, was approached by 2 model scouts, who told me i would be better as a model than a lawyer. way to encourage huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't stand the taste of tequila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i prefer white wine over red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the way to get on my good side is through mini black and white cookies. truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i go to a restaurant, i always look at the dessert section first.  this determines if i want to stay for dinner. dessert is what i look forward to. it's like the prize at the end of the maze. no prize? no pearly at your restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have never asked a guy out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was little, i picked dandelions and was made fun of by people who told me it was a weed and not a flower. i like dandelions and think a handful of dandelions is still pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the smell of pho makes me cringe. the traditional beef pho that is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll see an action or horror flick over a romantic comedy any day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still use a bookmark when reading. my bookmark has a picture of an owl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i carry bandaids with me because i am accident prone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my family and i never took any family vacations/trips together when i was younger because we couldn't afford it. instead, my sister and i would create adventures in our living room and my parents would rent kung fus and we would watch them and act out fight scenes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was in high school, i wrote a play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was in high school, my monthly comic strip was banned by the parents association and the asian american club. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tend to call people dude way too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i practice scowling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my sister's nickname for me is ghostie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate social climbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i eat indian food and korean food more than once a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love to dance, but for the life cannot dance to hip hop or rap music, yet i am happy as a clam listening to wu tang in my office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't make jello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still have the tapes of all the bands i used to play in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;secretly, i want hulk slippers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i clip coupons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my friends and i tend to wave hello/goodbye with both hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;certain songs remind me of certain people, situations and moods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;certain cities remind me of certain people, situations, and moods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am surprised when people comment on my blog/thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my girls and i wrote and recorded a rap song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i made "i heart pearl" shirts in boston and gave them to my friends and boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i always wear perfume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i am with my friends, i feel like we are invincible and can conquer this dirty city we call home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have never been mad at any of my best friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am really into fonts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm left handed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think tomato and toast and gus and sailor are cute nicknames for people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know the entire rap song X gonna give it to ya by DMX.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/05/things-about-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S_Ls8drrkrI/AAAAAAAAARA/yiB_kwu3EPY/s72-c/pearly.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-6545761831286440399</guid><pubDate>Wed, 12 May 2010 20:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-05-12T16:23:19.753-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">mazzy star</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">breaking pieces</category><title>breaking pieces</title><description>part korean. part alaskan. one of my closest friends in college was that. to me, he was this handsome boy. tall and athletic. he did crew. he skateboarded. he was ana amzing artist and he knew music and he could make me laugh. he would come visit me and around campus give me piggyback rides and stop by to say hi. he would sit with me at breakfast. to me, he was so cool. the epitome of laidback confidence. his art made me speechless and i couldn't believe he was friends with me! little. dorky me. girls all had crushes on him and he didn't seem to even pay any attention to them when we hung out. i didn't think he knew i had a crush on him, but my friends told me that he knew, which made what happened next even more crushing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember the day vividly. i was sitting in my dorm room. i was reading over some art history notes. "He" stopped by to listen to music. we sat on my bed next to the window which overlooked the courtyard. people were playing hacy sack in the courtyard. music was blaring. typical college stuff. i was cracking jokes and we were talking. he paused and looked at me and said, "you know you are really adorable." i just stopped talking. i was shocked. he then continued on talking about how he broke up with his girlfriend, who by the way was gorgeous. i sat and listened, but my heart was racing. i tried to listen, but all i could think was, i should tell him i feel, but i couldn't. common sense and my head stopped me. we talked for awhile more and he told me he had to leave to talk/resolve things with his ex and perhaps play basketball. which he often did. what a guy. i smiled and when he told me he would be back later to hang out, i was giddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to concentrate on art history was insanely impossible. how could i concentrate on kandinsky when this boy who i liked may like me? when he returned, he looked different. i remember that mazzy star was playing. we both love hope sandoval's voice. her voice played in the background. he didn't sit down. he shut the door. he told me that he was back with his girlfriend and just had sex with her. at that moment, i think my heart dropped. dropped onto the linoleum floor and shatter. i didn't say anything. he didn't either. then he said, "i think you are great. you really are pretty. you're...you're like my little sister." there. he said it. the bullet was shot. my ears burned. i just stood there like an idiot. he then ruffled my hair and said he would see me later with another friend of ours. the whole time, i didn't say anything. only hope's voice echoed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after that, i couldn't look at him. i couldn't hang out with him. i felt like i was good enough. i felt since i wasn't pretty enough. but it isn't his fault. he didn't know how i felt. i am sure i probably looked like some retarded school girl who would visit him at his art studio, who made him mixtapes. the clues were there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember crying to my friend becky. she was friends with him as well. my whole solace in this was that he didn't know i liked him. she didn't look at me. she averted my gaze. he didn't know right? she looked at me. "everyone knew. we all knew." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we never kept in touch after he graduated. who knows he may be back in alaska. he may be in DC or LA or NY. i don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do know that when a boy who you have known for a long time calls you pretty, it's the kiss of death.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/05/breaking-pieces.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-8455835117524123167</guid><pubDate>Thu, 06 May 2010 22:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-05-06T18:38:13.358-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">things not to say to me</category><title>no longer the girl in the photo</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S-NEy0dAElI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/_3NSEsiiSE8/s1600/DSC00168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S-NEy0dAElI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/_3NSEsiiSE8/s320/DSC00168.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468290012422345298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've never really fit in with any crowd. it used to bother me, but i have outgrown that. i put myself in situations where i know i won't ever fit in. i graduated with an art degree and i went to law school. surely, i knew i would not like anyone in law school, and i was correct on that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that photo was taken when i moved here from boston. i remember that girl. a young associate. man, i love that belt buckle. too bad, i can't rock the frampton buckle at work. anyways, i look at the photo and think, i may look the same, somewhat, but i'm a bit more street smart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;becoming a lawyer automatically put me into this premade crowd/scene. it is the scene with old men with old money who are stuck in their old ways. here are some of the things said to me as a fellow attorney:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) i miss the days when women would get you coffee. women still get coffee right?&lt;br /&gt;2) i've never been to china. are you from china? is vietnam near china?&lt;br /&gt;3) your english is very good&lt;br /&gt;4) you're very pretty...for a lawyer.&lt;br /&gt;5) you don't really work, you just smile and giggle right?&lt;br /&gt;6) do you only date asians?&lt;br /&gt;7) i can't believe you beat me in court.&lt;br /&gt;8) do you need a mentor?&lt;br /&gt;9) wait, you're not the court reporter?&lt;br /&gt;10) when did you graduate law school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes. this list is both sad and funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was thinking as i waited in court with other cocounsel and opposing counsel, how it is all a game. you put peope who are uber competitive in a room and force them to work things out. it can be both entertaining and explosive. all in all, always entertaining, at least to me. as we waited for 4 hours, me standing the whole time in heels mind you. i would stand my ground on issues, soften the blow with a smile, participate in chit chat, have the other attorneys comment if they were only 30 years younger ( i know. ew). it's a game. people puffing their ego. egos getting shattered. people here want to feel relevant and not obsolete. they look at me and don't see me as an opponent. they don't see me as colleague. they certainly don't see me as their daughter. they see me and think how their time is passing. it's a harsh reality to be cognizant of one's relevance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this crowd which i am now part of has been nothing but nice to me, overly, sickeningly sweet to me. being cute allows me to perhaps hold the panel or court's attention longer, but it's my litigation skills that gives me the wins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's funny how so many business cards are exchanged with my colleagues and the usual, "we should do lunch" invite gets thrown. nobody ever collects on these lunches. i should. everybody likes a free lunch! except with this crowd, it seems nothing is ever, ever, free.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/05/no-longer-girl-in-photo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S-NEy0dAElI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/_3NSEsiiSE8/s72-c/DSC00168.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-4775813320051370296</guid><pubDate>Wed, 21 Apr 2010 18:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-04-21T15:06:35.609-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">elasticity</category><title>elasticity of the soul</title><description>i work in a profession where it is about pushing, arguing, and more pushing. i work in a profession where it is about testing people's limits, pushing people to get the truth. you can imagine that all this pushing can be tiresome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think with all this pushing, i forget that sometimes pushing someone to their utmost limit means losing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't like to lose. lawyers don't like to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never thought as myself as competitive:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friend: pearl, we're competitive. we all went to law school. we're competitive.&lt;br /&gt;me: no, i'm not competitive.&lt;br /&gt;friend: you are.&lt;br /&gt;me: no, i am not. i am not competitive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i never felt i fit the lawyer persona. i mean, i am not a douchebag. but, it's my realization that i do push and mold situations to my advantage. is that a douchbag move?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always been the one that got pushed around in life, but these days, i have been doing some pushing of my own and i don't like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in life, i would rather be the pushee than the pusher so to speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the human spirit is amazing that we can bounce back. the elasticity element.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, how long does that elasticity last? i mean, does it always snap back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my sweet readers, your pearly has had a trying week and is busy doing damage control. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/04/elasticity-of-soul.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-7640486603390465729</guid><pubDate>Tue, 30 Mar 2010 19:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-03-30T15:22:15.164-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">sardines</category><title>rainy tuesdays make me gloomy</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.magazine.ayurvediccure.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/sardine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 338px;" src="http://www.magazine.ayurvediccure.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/sardine.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was little, my family lived in a tiny twin house. only 2 bedrooms. my sister and i shared a room until i was in the 5th grade. our house was small, but i have only fond memories growing up there. a small yard where my sister and i would hunt monsters and do gymnastic tournaments for the cars passing by. our only big television, which by today's standard is mini, was in my parents' bedroom. on cold winter nights, or even when my sister and i would get scared from nightmares or some scary shadow or things that go bump in the night, we would go to our parents' bedroom and ask, "can we sardine?" i didn't come up with that phrase, my dad did. when we all would be smushed in my parents' bed, my dad would exclaim,"we pack like sardines!" and laugh. i know sardine isn't a verb, but i liked how my dad made it one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps one day, my kids will ask the same thing to me, "can we sardine?" and i will gladly lift the covers.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/03/rainy-tuesdays-make-me-gloomy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-4568834673850746193</guid><pubDate>Mon, 22 Feb 2010 21:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-23T13:49:10.393-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">shaolin wolf</category><title>to write a song, the summer of shaolin wolf</title><description>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S4L285bMzYI/AAAAAAAAAQk/ndI-duOfrSw/s1600-h/shaolin+wolf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S4L285bMzYI/AAAAAAAAAQk/ndI-duOfrSw/s320/shaolin+wolf.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441182825884470658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the past few days, i have been thinking about what makes a good love song. i have some songs that come to mind that make me hold my breath, make my knees weak and make me wish that i had a song written about me. these songs are rare and few, but they exist. there are some songs that make me sigh. here are a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beach boys "god only knows" also the claudine longet version too. c'est tres jolie.&lt;br /&gt;mercury rev "the dark is rising"&lt;br /&gt;galaxy 500 "tugboat"&lt;br /&gt;the zombies "the way i feel inside"&lt;br /&gt;chisel "your star is killing me"&lt;br /&gt;the free design " i found love"&lt;br /&gt;bright eyes "the first day of my life"&lt;br /&gt;the magnetic fields "you're my only home"&lt;br /&gt;patsy cline "why can't he be you?"&lt;br /&gt;style council "you're the best thing"&lt;br /&gt;kings of convenience "i'd rather dance with you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(these are all i can think of off the top of my mind)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;writing a song is different for me. it is not like drawing a comic, or painting or sewing an article of clothing. it is different. for one thing, when i write music, i am usually collaborating. i do all the other things i mentioned by myself. working with somebody can be quite a challenge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my best friend and i have a band called shaolin wolf. we formed in the summer of 2008. the name alone gets us fans and gigs and having an asian fiddler probably doesn't hurt either. :) if you are a music know it all, you get the name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the photo above is from the summer. in it, we both feel we don't look like ourselves. it may be the booze or the fact we were watching our friends show at silk city and it was muggy, humid and hot out. but, it isn't a band photo, just a snapshot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we need to draft our bios. i think it should read something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shaolin wolf. hail from the streets of philly. armed with a handmade guitar and white fiddle, this duo is ready to stir fry some whiskey goodness into your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw, if we do a tour, i hope that we can expect invites for drinks, crashing on sofas and good peeps to show us their towns!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/02/to-write-song-summer-of-shaolin-wolf.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S4L285bMzYI/AAAAAAAAAQk/ndI-duOfrSw/s72-c/shaolin+wolf.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-1231899198920435483</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-16T14:10:28.075-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">meat</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">korean food</category><title>meat eater</title><description>&lt;a href="http://rwapplewannabe.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/young-bean-bibimbop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 300px;" src="http://rwapplewannabe.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/young-bean-bibimbop.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm no vegetarian. in fact, i am proud to be a carnivore. hey, i'm vietnamese, we eat meat. fact. today as philly got more snow, i know, i know, insane, let's add a couple more inches to your four feet of snow, i got ready to meet my friend joshua for some hot korean food. things you should know about me: 1) black and white cookies, the mini ones are a sure way to my heart and 2) i will never say no to korean food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i get to the restaurant and it is filled with koreans. a sign that this place is totally legit :) i wait for my friend joshua, who is a non-asian. thank goodness he came in and waved to me since i can't tell one white guy apart from another. kidding people. kidding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he sits down and the waiter brings out the treasures! yes, i call them that. kim chi. pickled carrots. pickled pickles. salty sardines. ah, i love this! we eat and catch up and slurp down our miso soup. i order the dol sot bim bop beef with the egg on the side. i love this hot stone entrees. sooo good. i am actually drooling as i type. joshua gets the lunchbox. we eat and joshua tells me that he actually has been cutting back his meat intake. i stop eating and my slanty eyes widen. but, he doesn't notice the widening part. he is into yoga and yoga chicks and says the last time he ate some meat was about 2 weeks ago. i tell him that we almost couldn't be friends. he laughs. i ask if he is eating more fish to substitute this lack of meat/protein. he says not really. i tell him, you should eat more salty nuts. nuts have lots of protein! he tells me that there are too many dirty jokes in that sentence and holds back comment. i continue, well, salty nuts are a poor substitute for meat. joshua's face is red and he continues to hold back comments. i continue, oblivious to my friend's red face. did you ever notice that vegetarians are just grumpy people sometimes? they need some beef. vegetarians are usually pizzatarians. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as we feasted on some excellent tender beef, i kept making fun of my friend joshua. he told me that he ran into some lawyers who knew/met me and they told him how i was adorable and they couldn't believe i was an attorney. his response: she can make you cry and she'll giggle afterwards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;joshua just emailed me. now he has a taste for meat back, he is in total withdrawal. i suggested he pick up some beef at the korean restaurant for his dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vegetarians have no idea what they are missing. meat. mmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next week, we are doing a long brazilian steakhouse lunch. it will be like pearl v. food. who will win? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stay tuned.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/02/meat-eater.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-4194602779283174923</guid><pubDate>Mon, 08 Feb 2010 21:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-08T16:44:11.991-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">work wife</category><title>work wife</title><description>&lt;a href="http://www.tvgasm.com/shows/images/realworld/season19/housewife-773019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 387px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.tvgasm.com/shows/images/realworld/season19/housewife-773019.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the men in my office are extremely metrosexual and emo. i am not insulting them. that is just how they are. they travel in a pack and like to make sure their ties are perfect knots and their cufflinks are shiny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tell my friends that these days, women are looking for men to be wives. my girlfriends are all successful and independent. they don't need a man, they want a man. big difference. my girlfriends don't look for a man at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the men at my office crack jokes and like to call everyone a cute nickname. i am usually oblivious to this as i keep big headphones on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the men at my office tell me that i don't go out to lunch with them, i am not being friendly. i correct them. i do go out to lunch with people, just not them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have never heard of the term "work wife." apparently, all the men here have a "work wife," somebody who they can complain to, grab lunch with, nag. it strikes me as odd. i declined being a work wife. i am already busy at work and i don't need to take care of more people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i declined and this was met with surprise and horror. what?! how could i not want to be a work wife?! imagine the perks. there aren't any. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after we got hit by a snowstorm, i come into the office to be met with a herd of guys telling me: "hey work wifey, can you make some dumplings tonite and bring them in tomorrow for all of us? thanks!" to which i responded by handing them each a take out menu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps these men should just get a civil union together and leave me out of the mix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, when will the people here learn that i am not chinese, so dumplings really aren't my forte? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know if any of my readers have/are a work wife, but it is a lame and retarded notion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;donna reed didn't put up with this crap and neither should i.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/02/work-wife.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-7520932042100502478</guid><pubDate>Tue, 02 Feb 2010 17:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-02-02T22:06:00.231-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">top 5 rejections</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">bruce lee</category><title>rejections</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S2hyWWruRYI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ggNO2HBwmK4/s1600-h/bruce+lee"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S2hyWWruRYI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ggNO2HBwmK4/s320/bruce+lee" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433718678794159490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i wear my game of death work out gear, i feel pretty bad ass. what would bruce do? not only is yellow my favorite colour, but it's my colouring, so to speak. i had asked my best girlfriends in the universe if they wanted to take kung fu classes with me. it sounded fun to me and taking some shaolin kung fun inspired classes would just add some skillz points, if not bonus points to oneself. (kung fu classes +500 points).  my girlfriends loved the idea, thinking mostly of kung fu names and outfits, not realizing that the classes require some heavy duty working out. did i mention my girlfriends' idea of working out is handing money over to the clerk to buy cigarettes? the dialogue:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: uh, yeah the classes require physical activity. i mean, we would spar. the classes are about 2 hours long...(interjection here) each class is 2 hours long, the classes are not 2 hours in total.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;them:  that sounds like work....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me again: well, yeah. it's kung fu, not kung-FUN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;them: we want fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (packs nunchucks up) ok, i am gonna still do it. just come watch me spar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;them: (nodding) we will. we'll bring signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after my girlfriends rejected going to kung fu classes, i began to think about rejections. mostly my rejections. being that it is almost valentines day, how fitting right? hahaha. seriously, i have gotten some lame, horrible rejections.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for your reading pleasure, i will list them. not in any particular order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) rejected to my senior prom because the dude who i went on one date was upset that i did not want to go to university of wisconsin and be a cheesehead. i know people get rejected for prom all the time. for me, it was timing. it was a week before prom and i had spent 2 months sewing my dress. i remember crying, not sure if i cried because i liked the guy, which i didn't really, or  because i spent so much time sewing my dress. yeah, that is probably more likely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) rejected via speakerphone. before cell phones, there were speakerphones. my punk rock boyfriend thought it would be uber punk of him to dump me during his band practice via speaker phone. i called him to see when i could come over to hang out. dudes yelling and guitars being tuned, i never did hear his band really play...ever. they were always tuning or just causing trouble. i call and i hear him pause, then i hear him say, "things aren't working out. i'm punk, you're not." his lame statement echoed. i am not speaking figuratively, i mean literally. me: "am i on speaker phone?!" him: "uh...no." the band: "yeah." me: " wow. uh ok. i get it." him: "are we cool?" me: "i don't think so. bye." him: " our band is playing a show on..." me: )click) i guess to be super punk, you have to reject people in front of an audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) one can't forget the race factor rejection. &lt;br /&gt;him: "you aren't white."&lt;br /&gt;me: " i know that."&lt;br /&gt;him: " well, i mean my friends..er, i..don't believe one should date outside their race..."&lt;br /&gt;me: (insert wide eyes here, well, as wide as my slanty eyes can get)&lt;br /&gt;him: " you understand right? i really like you and i think you're pretty, but you' re still not white and..."&lt;br /&gt;me: "i'm never going to be white."&lt;br /&gt;him: "i guess not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fast forward. the dude rejected me based on my skin colour and then later realized he was a jerk and we dated way too long and then i realized he was a jerk and that i was stupid. the clue should have been the conversation above, but i condoned that. c'est la vie, mon ami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) rejection via bad haircut. i had been taking bar exam classes and one dude was friendly with me and being that i was new to the philly area, it was nice to have one friend during these long bar review classes. we would text each other funny quips and would make plans to hang out, but never did or it fell through. then we lost touch and when i did run into him again, i had the worse haircut ever. i mean, i looked like a member of journey. no joke. i run into him and he is with his friends and he was taken back by my bad haircut. i think he was trying not to be seen talking to the girl with the mullethead. ok, it wasn't a mullet, but it was bad. if bad had hair, it would have been mine. anyhow, i remember nervously chatting with him, while his eyes just looked at my heap of bad hair going on. then he said," yeah. i'm really busy with stuff...things. see you around." me: (thinking, i need a hat. i need a wig. i need to walk away now) ok, so you can't spot a personality across the room, but you can certainly see a bad haircut a mile away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) five. five is a good number for lists. that is what i think. fifth rejection is via AOL IM. yup. picture me all cute, cuddly and lovey dovey IMing my boy. telling him i miss him. telling him i am making him some paintings. being as cute as a monchichi. really. i can be that cute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: i miss you :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him: yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: i know you are busy working, but i wanted to say hi. xo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him: i don't think this relationship is going to work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: is it because i just got back from LA and was away for over a week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him: no, that's not it. i do hate LA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: ok. what is it then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him: i just don't want to disappoint you. you deserve better. i can't give you that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: can we talk about this? face to face. are you really doing this over IM?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him: i don't think we should talk. i'm sorry. (SIGNS OFF)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: (looking at the screen. so and so has signed off. your messages will be delivered to him when he signs back on) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i kept looking at the IM conversation. i kept thinking he was going to sign back on and IM me a "JK" or ";)" or "LOL"...anything. but, that didn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is no emoticon for rejection, but if there was it would have been a snapshot of me at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there you go, readers. rejection done in 5 slices. mmmmm, eat it up kids. we all get rejected from one time or another. it's all how you handle it and for all the rejectors out there, it is all about how you do it. style points. (+0 for the above)</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/02/rejections.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S2hyWWruRYI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ggNO2HBwmK4/s72-c/bruce+lee" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-499715638900484689</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 Jan 2010 20:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-29T16:24:50.146-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">cold winter days</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">raw sugar</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">maui</category><title>missing maui</title><description>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S2NSDpvDMkI/AAAAAAAAAQU/BDxX-Ea54DM/s1600-h/maui.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S2NSDpvDMkI/AAAAAAAAAQU/BDxX-Ea54DM/s320/maui.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432275798235230786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today with the wind, philly was 4 degrees. yup. 4. single digits. today i walked 45 minutes one way to meet a friend for lunch. yes, i am the sucker who said, "sure, no problem i can walk there in sub zero weather!" bundled up, i tried to walk briskly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love cold weather, i do. it goes against my tropical blood, but i love how the air feels cleaner, crisper. people don't dawdle in the cold. the homeless people aren't out begging as much. not as many creepy dudes are coming up to me with bad pick up lines. everybody has a destination and goes on their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as i sat and waited for my friend to show up for lunch, i was warming my poor hanfs around a cup of cocoa. i was about to put some raw sugar in it and it was that instant i was transported back to maui. the raw sugar smell reminds me of maui. the smell of sugar cane and the ocean. salty sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;holding the cup, i closed my eyes for a second. i thought of maui. sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then some goober opened the door and left it open and i got hit in the face with cold air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss maui.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/01/missing-maui.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S2NSDpvDMkI/AAAAAAAAAQU/BDxX-Ea54DM/s72-c/maui.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-5316308598339087258</guid><pubDate>Thu, 28 Jan 2010 19:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-28T15:09:36.291-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dollhouse</category><title>my dollhouse</title><description>&lt;a href="http://chautauquaminiatures.com/shop/images/categories/dollhouses%20holiday%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 367px; height: 489px;" src="http://chautauquaminiatures.com/shop/images/categories/dollhouses%20holiday%20001.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;growing up, money was tight. both my parents worked. we never went on vacations because my parents needed to work. my summers consisted of me going to the public library and borrowing tons of books and renting old classic movies. i used to get jealous of my friends who would go to camp. they always had such adventures. since everyone was gone for the summer, it would be my sister and i keeping each other company. we would play voltron. i know, not the typical girl game. we didn't even have the voltron figures! we used our stuff animals and would just imagine that our teddy bear was the head of voltron. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while my friends were water skiing or taking ballet lessons, my sister and i were trying to catch monsters or playing detective or even making up our own language. we were never bored. i didn't even realized how strange it was that we never went on any vacations until a classmate pointed it out. "you've never been to the shore! you're weird!" mind you, i wouldn't have traded any of my summers for some lame overnight camp. my parents are awesome and we would sit around and watch kung fu theater. my memories of my childhood are nothing short of awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being the creative kid, i remember i wanted a dollhouse. my friends had huge dollhouses filled with lavish furniture and beautiful dolls. i remember thinking how pretty. my parents couldn't afford to give me such a luxury. there was left over plywood my dad had not used upon our basement remodel. can't dis the plywood paneling! he helped me put together a shoddy bare bone dollhouse. it was two floors. a box really and the roof was two more pieces of plywood. no door. about 2 windows that my dad cut out with an exacto knife. no porch. no fancy light fixtures. but, it was all mine. an empty dollhouse for me to design and decorate. my little eyes grew wide with excitement. i painted the plywood with my poster paints. i painted it white with yellow shutters. i even painted trees and bushes on the side of the house to give it the cozy suburbia feel. i couldn't afford to buy all the fancy furniture to fill the dollhouse, so i used empty gift boxes, thread stools, anything really. i used clay and molded individual meals to place on the cardboard dining room table. i would spend hours upon hours designing a room. i made books for my dolls to read. i wrote and illustrated mini books. i made yarn rugs for the rooms. my dolls were made from wooden clothespin. i gave them all long hair made from yarn and used markers to paint on their faces. the whole summer i worked on this house and my sister and i would play for hours in the attic with my shabby dollhouse. we did this every summer for about 3 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then one day, we were moving. my dollhouse's roof collapsed and my furniture was all bent and worn. my parents told me that it was old and we had to throw it away. i cried. i spent all that time building this perfect home. i never even showed the dollhouse to friends. i guess i was embarassed by it. they all had such fancy shiny things. as my dad put the dollhouse into the trashcan, i stopped crying. my precious house in a pile. i was about to cry again when my mama told me to go inside. my sister and i went inside. my mama put in one of my favorite shaw brothers kung fu movies, the five deadly venoms. my dad cut some mangos and we all sat eating mangos and watching shaolin kung fu. i guess i didn't need to create the perfect home. i was already in a perfect home. at least for me.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-dollhouse.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-68037084793298292</guid><pubDate>Tue, 19 Jan 2010 20:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-22T16:08:06.604-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">cameron m. stewart</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">montreal</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">vacation</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">cold weather</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">seaguy</category><title>au revoir montreal, bonjour philly</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S1oTrS1TGFI/AAAAAAAAAQM/B25ocjaefQg/s1600-h/haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S1oTrS1TGFI/AAAAAAAAAQM/B25ocjaefQg/s320/haircut.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429673935259244626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(before going on my trip to montreal, i got my hair trimmed. see above photo. it was all super cute and then i went to montreal and wore my big furry cosack hat, so no more cute hair. oh well. hat head or not, my bangs were super cute).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love montreal. i love how it combines old european with a thriving dynamic city. everywhere there are people speaking french and snipets of english. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my trip was short, but very sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't take any pictures, because it was cold and i wear fingerless gloves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here are the highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) poutine. this dish is pretty much a heart attack on a plate. fries with gravy and cheese. i wanted the smoked meat, but my friends insist on going traditional first. thank you cameron and athena. after a night of drinking, this hot meal hit the tummy. yum. i wish they delivered poutine to philly. sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)the weather. icey. grey. snowy. sooo pretty. i got to wear my furry hat like a good comrade. :) also, for all you people who told me i was gonna freeze my butt up there. i didn't and i didn't even have a down coat or any of that northface crap on. so there! everybody looks adorable in winter gear. scarves. mittens. hats. boots. it's like i tell my friends. wearing all those layers and coming inside is like unwrapping a gift. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) new zealanders: meeting my friend max who is from new zealand up in montreal was insane. he is a riot and made fun of the french incessantly. he also did every shot that was put in front of him. props. mad props to the commonwealth. i also realized that dudes that were straight edged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) athena: meeting up with my best friend from law school was wicked awesome. there are some people who you adore and even distance and time can't change that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) fangirl: meeting cameron m. stewart and getting my seaguy signed. girls, this dude is total sweetheart. total pitter patter material.  it is amazing to me, how someone so talented can be so humble and down to earth charming. why does montreal have all the cool people? philly has all the grit and thugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;despite having to spend tons of time at the aeroports due to new security measures, sleeping a total of 5 hours all weekend, being freezing cold (yeah my hotel had no heat. but, upon departure, athena checked the closet and saw there was a space heater. dude, why didn' t they tell us! i almost freaking spooned my friend athena for body heat. soo cold), being a dork and dragging my worn copy of seaguy to canada, getting picked no by montreal jocks (i know. jocks are international. they are everywhere!), i had an amazing time and came back, not so much refreshed, but excited for next visit. just no more u.s. airways. worse airline ever. ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/01/au-revoir-montreal-bonjour-philly.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S1oTrS1TGFI/AAAAAAAAAQM/B25ocjaefQg/s72-c/haircut.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-4980777057153757951</guid><pubDate>Wed, 13 Jan 2010 20:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2010-01-13T15:49:21.361-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">siberia</category><title>siberia</title><description>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S04xpUw4deI/AAAAAAAAAQE/qYHEy9bfWLQ/s1600-h/siberia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S04xpUw4deI/AAAAAAAAAQE/qYHEy9bfWLQ/s320/siberia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426329187046159842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the past week, it has been siberia cold here in philly. although i adore cold weather, this weather was brutally bitingly cold. i would have worn a face mask, but people here would have thought i had SARS and freak out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last weekend was my birthday and my friends took me for drinks and merriment. i posted a shot of me and my best friend jonathan. we are bundled and even with layers, it was cold out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;soon, i will be going to our friend to the north. it seems insane of me to venture somewhere colder, but this way, i can maintain my mongolian/eskimo elfish look. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so my fellow bloggers and readers, i will be on a short venture up north. i will try to videotape my adventures and quests and post them later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as it stands, i have not packed anything and the only thing i have in my carry on so far is my trkfld bag and my furry white boots. i think i may need more things. i also have about 3 books with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is it possible to still look cute with all my layers and furry hats? i hope so. i may just have to crawl into a carcass of a bear to keep warm if need be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope to come back a newly refreshed pearl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am also starting to plan my next trip. moscow and st. petersburg. :)</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2010/01/siberia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nJwSJ6LD81g/S04xpUw4deI/AAAAAAAAAQE/qYHEy9bfWLQ/s72-c/siberia.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-4775117103922255645</guid><pubDate>Mon, 28 Dec 2009 21:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-29T12:55:58.171-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">regrets</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dude list</category><title>deep thoughts</title><description>as you all know, if you keep up, i draw comics depicting breakups, heartaches, but it seems, never love. perhaps depicting true love in a comic is hard. perhaps it is easier to draw from heartache and sadness. for me, it is easier to share my broken heart to everyone since everyone has had their heart broken. this isn't as personal to me as falling in love since not everyone gets the opportunity to fall in love. or perhaps i have more stories to share about heartache than i do love, who knows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;awhile back, i wrote about how i used to date this guy jake. a long time ago. he did nothing wrong. i just "fell" out of love with him. then, i wasn't even sure if i even loved him. horrible, i know. we tried to stay friends, but it didn't work. he couldn't handle being friends with me. he would drive 3 hours to meet me for coffee and i would babble about my career and who i was seeing, not seeing how his face drop and how heart would break. i was obtuse. i guess i felt as if my happy chatter would block out the sound of his ripping heart. all in all, our close friendship ended. abruptly. he just simply one day called me to let me know that he was not going to be in my life. i joked back since i could not believe him. what?! we have been friends for years. how could he say this? how could he mean this? not once thinking about how he must have felt for the past 10 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my question to you, my nonjudgmental readers, is it ever too late to apologize? i mean to really truly apologize. a heartfelt, i'm sorry to have been such a horrible friend and i hope you are happy apology? again, is it to relieve my guilt. perhaps. wuold hearing from me make him feel better? not sure. the last time we spoke, i believed he cried, which made me feel awful and awkward. i don't know what to say or how to act when guys cry. it is like when i am standing at a party where i don't know anyone. do i hold a drink? do i keep my hands in my pockets? i just don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i am being selfish, then i apologize. i don't think i will ever regain my friendship with jake. no more jokes about cthulu. or making fun of the drama geeks. creating new RPGs. i guess in the end, even when the relationship is over, the friendship is what i miss the most. i miss my friend and not just "jake" but my friends of long time past. however, in true pearl spirit, i just don't have the energy or motivation to restart these friendships. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and they probably don't want to restart them as well. they know they would just be fodder for my comic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all this thinking is due to me watching that movie, 500 days of summer. it got me thinking about how i have ended relationships. all not always as clean cut as i draw them. it's easy when i draw these heartbreaks. the paper and pen don't argue or yell back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not as if i am gonna make a list of dudes i wanna say sorry and mend their wounds. good god, what a short and depressing list!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what i am saying is, to apologize to jake would allow me to be back "in" with some dear friends from college, but at the same time. it wasn't about sides, but they chose his, so why bother. i've never really a lot of friends, so i don't need them and frankly, i am not sure i want to be friends with them again. but i do feel bad about jake and i feel he held me up in a good light and i'd like him to remember me fondly and not as a disappointment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for now, i will just keep my glasses on and hide behind my books. time heals all wounds. it also makes you forget the bad stuff. but, it makes you forget the good stuff too.</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2009/12/deep-thoughts.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>16</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4178673916268318606.post-6520677948482888403</guid><pubDate>Wed, 04 Nov 2009 20:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-04T15:44:28.930-05:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">bikes</category><title>i wanna ride my bike, but then i remember this...</title><description>my bike failed me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trolley tracks are killers. i borrowed my sister's red bike and rode it to rittenhouse park this afternoon to stop at the vegan cafe to see my friend matthew. after chit chatting i jumped on my bike to head home and stop and buy comics and then just chill. simple enough no? so i am riding and i have my armani shades on, my red vans, and one of my earplugs in for my ipod, because listening with both earplugs would be totally stupid if i am riding with traffic! my bike's tired hit the trolley track and the brakes would not pump right and my bike slipped and i fell off and slid with it.....down a long ass street. now, i am all panicky, shocked and there is a lot of blood on me. my own blood. my bike is all bent and there is a truck driver behind me who screeched on his brakes not to hit me and hit my back of the bike. he starts yelling at me, "get your f**** bike off the street! move it" i am all disorientaled and i start to apologize to him and trying to move my bike. my bike which suddenly weighs a ton to me. atlas carrying the world. some random guy walking by tells me, "whoa! you should wear a helmet!" to which i glare at him and said, "mind your business!" i called my friend nick, my girl chetana and i was all dazed due to the accident. their cure? drinks at copa 2 and nachos. well, the nachos were my idea! my entire left side of my body is bruised, scraped, swollen and bloody. my shirt got torn and my right side of my tummy is scraped and bruised and bloody and my knees are shot. my reality moment, going to the bathroom after the accident, standing in my tee shirt and panties pouring a bottle of hydrogen peroxide over my left side of my body and stomach to clean out my wounds. send sympathy to me. xo ps, my girls here in philly, chetana,amanda, and props to mark and shane...thanks for listening to me cry. xo</description><link>http://thelittlestmushroom.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-wanna-ride-my-bike-but-then-i.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (pearly)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item></channel></rss>
