I walked into the kitchen last night to find our dinner dishes washed and the kitchen looking clean, almost.
Jenn: Thanks for washing the dishes!
Hal: You’re welcome!
Jenn: Hal, why is the coleslaw still sitting out?
Hal: What?
Jenn: Why didn’t you put the coleslaw away?
Hal: I didn’t want you to feel left out of the cleaning up process.
If you believe that, then I've got a bridge to sell you.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
It's really not just a look
Even though Hal often, and quite literally, tells me how much he loves his little Asian fiancee, sometimes I wonder if he forgets that Asian is a race and not a look. I'm so Americanized that I think I forget too sometimes. However,I'm often reminded when other Asians come up to me hopefully, asking if I'm Chinese (yes, this does actually happen). When I tell them I'm Korean, they optimistically ask, you speak? When I tell them I don't speak Korean, it feels like I've just told a kid there's no Santa. They look so damned disappointed!
It's nice to think that those who know me and love me become "colorblind" to my ethnicity and don't apply stereotypical expectations. For the record, I'm not a math whiz, I don't worship Hello Kitty and I hate karaoke. And if I ever tried to dress like a Harajuku girl, I'm fairly certain Hal wouldn't let me come home. But that doesn't mean that the rest of the world wears blinders, and I need to remember that.
Anyway, I digress. Here's one of our after-midnight conversations where I have to remind Hal (and myself) that not everyone likes a tiny, cute Asian.
Hal: Would you rather live next to a white supremacist or a Hasidic Jew?
Jenn: Hasidic Jew.
Hal: Why?
Jenn: At least a Hasidic Jew would leave me alone.
Hal: What do you mean?
Jenn: (pause) Have you forgotten what I look like, and that I'm Asian? I don't think the supremacists like my kind.
Hal: Oh. Right. Well you're very white on the inside.
Jenn: I don't think they care about my insides. I'd rather not have a cross burning on my front lawn every night. It's not good for the grass.
Hal: Good point.
and Good Night...
It's nice to think that those who know me and love me become "colorblind" to my ethnicity and don't apply stereotypical expectations. For the record, I'm not a math whiz, I don't worship Hello Kitty and I hate karaoke. And if I ever tried to dress like a Harajuku girl, I'm fairly certain Hal wouldn't let me come home. But that doesn't mean that the rest of the world wears blinders, and I need to remember that.
Anyway, I digress. Here's one of our after-midnight conversations where I have to remind Hal (and myself) that not everyone likes a tiny, cute Asian.
Hal: Would you rather live next to a white supremacist or a Hasidic Jew?
Jenn: Hasidic Jew.
Hal: Why?
Jenn: At least a Hasidic Jew would leave me alone.
Hal: What do you mean?
Jenn: (pause) Have you forgotten what I look like, and that I'm Asian? I don't think the supremacists like my kind.
Hal: Oh. Right. Well you're very white on the inside.
Jenn: I don't think they care about my insides. I'd rather not have a cross burning on my front lawn every night. It's not good for the grass.
Hal: Good point.
and Good Night...
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Why?
I owe Hal an apology. I inaccurately described the shirt in my last post as having flames along the bottom but alas it only has them on the sleeves.
Still, you look at it and you have to ask yourself, why?
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
When you can't burn the shirt, "burn" the shirt wearer
For his groomsmen’s gifts, Hal’s thinking of getting the guys Hawaiian shirts. It’s so apropos that the second he suggested it I thought it was a fantastic idea. Yes, that is my fiance’s signature style, the (crazy) Hawaiian shirt. I don’t mind them to be honest and to a practical extent, I could see the appeal. They’re extremely soft, meant to be a little baggy and very comfortable. In comparison to some I’ve seen, Hal’s shirts are not too wild and crazy; they don’t burn my eyes or give me a headache when looking at them, and they’re worn infrequently which helps. Hal recalls getting most of his collection at Kohls actually (I don’t remember Kohls looking like a tiki hut surrounded by white sand on the island of Maui, but who cares about authenticity). But alas these are not part of their 2010 summer line.
So we started looking online for Hawaiian shirts since apparently that’s not the popular style to carry in any store that’s not called Tommy Bahama. And while Tommy Bahama may smell like Hawaii, sunscreen and mai tais exploded in it, their shirts seem exorbitantly overpriced for a style that is so clearly not everyday wear.
Hal wasn’t liking anything we saw on the Internet. It got the point where he seemed to be arguing with alohashirts.com.
Hal: These shirts are supposed to tell a story! And the front is supposed to be one flowing image when it’s buttoned, not broken up like this. And what does the back look like on these shirts?! The back is supposed to have a design too! Let me show you.
Hal dragged me to his closet and started pulling out shirts from the larger than expected collection, starting with a white shirt with a rather subtle Hawaiian pattern running along the bottom of it and on the sleeves.
Hal: This is my first shirt. Someone gave this one to me. See how faded it is.
There was a glint of pride in his eyes at this moment. And I crushed it.
Jenn: Babe, it's not faded. I think it’s inside out.
Hal: Oh.
The showcase kinda went downhill from there.
Hal pulled out a much more colorful shirt with blue skies, green palms, maybe a beach and some waves, and then on the back there was a 50’s style pinup girl lounging in a martini glass surrounded by bubbles. (I recognize that visuals would help here but I didn’t have the energy to take pictures)
Hal: See what I mean, these shirts tell a story.
Jenn: What story does this tell?
Hal: It’s a woman in a martini glass. Women and martinis, these are good things don’t you think?
Jenn: I think you don’t know the definition of a story.
Burn number 2 from the future Mrs. Skelley.
After looking at most of the collection, Hal suddenly got very excited upon realizing that he still had one of his all time favorite shirts tucked in the back of his closet (for good reason!!!!). So excited he put it on.
This is not a Hawaiian shirt. This is not an acceptable shirt to be worn in public. And it does warrant a photo so one will be posted tomorrow, but I’ll do my best to paint the picture now. It’s a black button down, possibly velour; it’s soft like curtains you might find in a bordello. It has red and orange flames on it, coming up from the bottom with a matching set along the sleeves. The shirt used to be worn with matching orange pants. I know, yikes! We’re not done yet. Accompanying the shirt on the hanger is a vinyl, faux leather jacket with what looks to be a permanently popped collar. There are matching pants to this jacket as well but I was told that they had to be thrown out since they got “stuck” to something. Like how you can get stuck to vinyl booths at a diner?
With the shirt and the jacket on, Hal posed while I looked on with mild amusement.
Hal: See, I look like…I look like…
Jenn: You look like True Blood meets Euro trash!
Final burn. End scene
So we started looking online for Hawaiian shirts since apparently that’s not the popular style to carry in any store that’s not called Tommy Bahama. And while Tommy Bahama may smell like Hawaii, sunscreen and mai tais exploded in it, their shirts seem exorbitantly overpriced for a style that is so clearly not everyday wear.
Hal wasn’t liking anything we saw on the Internet. It got the point where he seemed to be arguing with alohashirts.com.
Hal: These shirts are supposed to tell a story! And the front is supposed to be one flowing image when it’s buttoned, not broken up like this. And what does the back look like on these shirts?! The back is supposed to have a design too! Let me show you.
Hal dragged me to his closet and started pulling out shirts from the larger than expected collection, starting with a white shirt with a rather subtle Hawaiian pattern running along the bottom of it and on the sleeves.
Hal: This is my first shirt. Someone gave this one to me. See how faded it is.
There was a glint of pride in his eyes at this moment. And I crushed it.
Jenn: Babe, it's not faded. I think it’s inside out.
Hal: Oh.
The showcase kinda went downhill from there.
Hal pulled out a much more colorful shirt with blue skies, green palms, maybe a beach and some waves, and then on the back there was a 50’s style pinup girl lounging in a martini glass surrounded by bubbles. (I recognize that visuals would help here but I didn’t have the energy to take pictures)
Hal: See what I mean, these shirts tell a story.
Jenn: What story does this tell?
Hal: It’s a woman in a martini glass. Women and martinis, these are good things don’t you think?
Jenn: I think you don’t know the definition of a story.
Burn number 2 from the future Mrs. Skelley.
After looking at most of the collection, Hal suddenly got very excited upon realizing that he still had one of his all time favorite shirts tucked in the back of his closet (for good reason!!!!). So excited he put it on.
This is not a Hawaiian shirt. This is not an acceptable shirt to be worn in public. And it does warrant a photo so one will be posted tomorrow, but I’ll do my best to paint the picture now. It’s a black button down, possibly velour; it’s soft like curtains you might find in a bordello. It has red and orange flames on it, coming up from the bottom with a matching set along the sleeves. The shirt used to be worn with matching orange pants. I know, yikes! We’re not done yet. Accompanying the shirt on the hanger is a vinyl, faux leather jacket with what looks to be a permanently popped collar. There are matching pants to this jacket as well but I was told that they had to be thrown out since they got “stuck” to something. Like how you can get stuck to vinyl booths at a diner?
With the shirt and the jacket on, Hal posed while I looked on with mild amusement.
Hal: See, I look like…I look like…
Jenn: You look like True Blood meets Euro trash!
Final burn. End scene
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Not for forever stamps
When Hal offered to pick up stamps for me I thought, how sweet of him. Not sure why I was expecting the Forever stamps but I was a little surprised when I found these waiting for me...
Jenn: (literally looking perplexed) What are these?
Hal: The stamps you asked for.
Jenn: Oh. Why did you get these?
Hal: Why did I get the stamps you asked for? Because you asked for them.
Jenn: Why didn't you get the forever stamps?
Hal: What are forever stamps? You didn't tell me there were specific ones!
Jenn: But why did you choose these?
Hal: Why not? (he's starts to look a bit defeated)
I could hear my own voice echoing in my head...he tries to do a nice thing and this is what he gets
Jenn: It's okay. I love them!
Despite the fact that they take up one fourth of a notecard envelope, they're starting to grow on me...
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