The roses are blackened
The violets are dead
Your liver is poisoned
By sugar and bread.
The news is disheartening
An Orange Cretin is King
Republicans gloat
And won’t do a damned thing. Continue reading An Anti-Valentine for America (#175)
Category: Dance
Ice, Dance, and Drama (#112)
When my parents divorced, my dad got the TV. I lived with my mother, TV-less, for several years. (And half of my American readers thought I was kidding about being a poor and hungry child. Nothing like the lack of a TV to really bring poverty home, right?) But don’t pity me. Sure, I totally suck at pop culture references in Trivia games, but I discovered books. I lived on the prairie with Laura Ingalls and on the Island with Anne Shirley. Life was good. Continue reading Ice, Dance, and Drama (#112)
One Beastly Dance (#73)
My Chinese-American husband and I met in the competitive partner dancing world. My boyfriend/ partner at the time (Ethan) didn’t want to compete anymore. He said, “Hey, you should dance with Andy.”
THAT was a tactical error. Continue reading One Beastly Dance (#73)
Seven Rules for Your Wedding Rehearsal Dinner (#68)
- Don’t have a big rehearsal dinner/ party the night before the wedding.
- If you must disregard Rule #1, do not serve alcohol at the party the night before the wedding.
- If you must disregard Rule #1 AND #2, do not have a morning wedding.
- If you must disregard Rules #1, #2, AND #3 absolutely DO NOT have an open bar at the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.
- If you must disregard Rules #1, #2, #3, AND #4 make sure no members of your wedding party have recently turned 21.
- If you are seriously such a fool as to ignore Rules #1, #2, #3, #4, AND #5 there’s no chance you’ll pay attention to this one, but I’ll give it to you anyway. For God’s sake, do not schedule your only wedding rehearsal with the minister AFTER the open bar at the party the night before your morning wedding.
- If you disregarded Rules 1-6, you are an idiot.
Continue reading Seven Rules for Your Wedding Rehearsal Dinner (#68)
Dancing with the Dick, Part II (#63)
For those of you tuning in for the first time, I’d suggest reading Part I first. Don’t worry, this post isn’t going anywhere!
I didn’t say much to Dick on our way to my first dance competition in Palm Springs. He drove. (Have you ever noticed how the dominant personality always drives? Useless info I learned in film school.) Continue reading Dancing with the Dick, Part II (#63)
How to Tell the Dancer from the Dance (#62)
Until last January, I had no idea that other people had noticed the dearth of Asian Male, White Female couples. I certainly had no idea there was a whole AMWF cyber community. And while I was kinda bummed that I was not, in fact, the first internet interracial love pioneer, I was delighted to find so many other unicorns. Some were even authors! Susan Blumberg-Kason, for example, wrote a memoir entitled Good Chinese Wife. Continue reading How to Tell the Dancer from the Dance (#62)
Alas for the Bachelor…Party (#60)
The year before Andy and I got married, we went to nine weddings. Some were my friends, some were his friends, and some were mutual friends. My Chinese-American fiancé attended something like seven bachelor parties. Three were his closest friends: Salad, Pumpkin, and String Bean. Andy was String Bean’s best man, and he did String Bean’s party right – a boy’s night on the town, complete with pimp hat, handcuffs, and feather boa for the groom. Continue reading Alas for the Bachelor…Party (#60)
The Reluctant Bachelorette (#58)
I’m not a fan of strip clubs. The places called “XXX” and “Exotic Dancer” in Hollywood and near Los Angeles International Airport are dark holes, reeking of desperation. There are a few bachelor parties that wander in on Friday nights, but for the most part, the clientele consists of socially awkward men. In fact, the LAX clubs do a nice business thanks to the lunch breaks of engineers in El Segundo’s aerospace/ defense companies. (Gotta wonder who signs off on THOSE security clearances.) Continue reading The Reluctant Bachelorette (#58)
Murphy’s Wedding (#57)
I couldn’t figure out why my wedding was so stressful until I compared it to making a movie.
If a wedding were a Hollywood movie, the bride would be the director, the producer, and the writer. She’s the costume designer, the casting director, and the location scout.
The bride is also the star.
The bride is so screwed. Continue reading Murphy’s Wedding (#57)
You Can Dance, If You Want To. If Not, They’ll Make You. (#43)
If you asked us how we met, and you’d get two different answers.
I’d say, “We met dancing.”
My Chinese-American fiancé Andy would say, “We met at a bar.” He’d assume a nonchalant air, but you’d see his chest puff out, just a bit, as if to say, “I’m a player. That’s how I roll, scooping up white girls at the bar, every Friday night. I have moves. No woman can resist.” Continue reading You Can Dance, If You Want To. If Not, They’ll Make You. (#43)