I will preface this with saying that any of these things could happen anywhere really, so I am not making that much fun of the Midwest.
1. On a sidewalk on a bridge to connect to a highway, I saw a man (full grown) on a child’s (literal child) mini, bubble-gum pink Vespa crusin, going who knows where. Where is your camera when you need it.
2. After coming home from the grocery store (go Cermaks!), we were carrying in the bags when a man in a doo-rag walked past us and looked at my cousins boyfriend and exclaimed:
“You go yo-self a watermelon man.” This was said with much enthusiasm and Midwest twang.
3. While shopping at Macy’s during a massive sale, a woman looked at a shirt I was holding and exclaimed how beautiful it was and how she always wanted one like it and yada yada ya. She tried to take it from me with her words. Better than her little, Italian fists is all I will say. She also did not succeed, I have feisty Asian blood.
4. I unfortunately passed by two accidents after they had just happened-both of which I later learned ended up fatally. One involved a semi-truck and a pick-up truck with one of the drivers having a medical emergency before the accident. The second one was down in the city by the river where I believe someone drowned and another person went missing. Both are such tragedies and little reminders that anything could and does happen.
5. My cousin has a fabulous raised garden that is growing an impressive amount of squash, zucchini, pumpkins, snap peas, eggplant and a plethora more. (By the way how fab is plethora as a word…totally the cool kid of words). And the soil of the Midwest is AMAZING! Who knew. I loved gardening and weeding with her. As I was gathering all the weeds, I put them into the bucket while singing “I got a bucket, got a bucket full of weeds, got a bucket got bucket full of weeds, oh, oh oh, oh oh” a la Natasha Bendingfield. My cousin’s boyfriend was not amused. I don’t think he likes the sound of my voice. Which is just soo weird because I am basically Adele-only Asian and better.
6. During an evening stroll around the park, I told my cousin’s boyfriend all about my childhood sex education. Because nothing bonds two people quicker than the traumatic stories about how we learned about the “birds and bees” as children. He told me that his parents (a doctor and nurse) taught sex ed at the local junior high where he went. I one upped him by telling him about the time my mom and her friend, who happened to be a high-level employee (basically the boss) of Planned Parenthood took me there on the weekend for a private tour. Nothing says friendship like teaching your daughter about alll that good stuff.
On a side story, one time I was at the March for Woman’s Lives in Washington eons ago and I was at a Planned Parenthood with my family and friends and picked up a strawberry-flavored condom and asked my babysitter if I could have it. I thought it was candy, I was ten. Candy, condom, same difference. She denied me and told me to ask my mom, somehow all with a straight face. Hi KG. I think that entire event shaped my entire outlook on life and the world.
7. My cousin and her boyfriend have surprisingly not shanked me after days full of side comments, snarkiness and all my stupid stories. I constantly am jabbing them about the Midwest with comments like “oh, your tired, it must because your a Middie now. Not because you didn’t sleep well last night.” Or her boyfriends favorite, which is that I constantly remind him I went to an inner-city public school. They also went to a public school, it was just in a small town with a diversity level you could count on your hands. “Silly kids, I went to public school, I know how to do this better than you (as I chop carrots).” Basically any conversation they have I just have to put my two cents into. My poor mother. LOL. Imagine 18 years of constantly raising a mutant having an opinion. If it doesn’t say it in the Constitution that it ain’t the truth mommy dearest. Murica.
8. After an exhausting morning (we were in the Midwest where the life just get sucks out of ya), my cousin and I came home and passed out on the couch. We literally shopped till’ we dropped. I didn’t even know I had fallen asleep until I was dreaming about fighting with my cousin’s boyfriend, probably about me going to an actual public school (see story 7). We woke up to Germany winning the World Cup an hour later. Apparently the world was still spinning while we were taking a siesta. Who knew.
9. I do not recommend watching the movie Bad Grandpa 0.5 (it was so bad it couldn’t even be a whole movie….it was deduced to half of a number). I left the living room about ten minutes into the movie. I mean I really could only watch Johnny Knoxville running around in his little, white, underwear with his prosthetic balls dangling to his knees for so long. Not to mention his male friend who played an old grandma, who squeezed her prosthetic boob to put milk in her/his coffee while going on a blind date with a twenty-something year old in a small-town diner. This was all being filmed under-cover too. Murica. I was traumatized for life. I’m glad Netflix carries this.
10. THERE ARE PING PONG TABLES IN THE AIRPORT. This is the most exciting thing I have seen since sliced bread. Amazing. Why doesn’t every airport slash every communal and public area have one or sixty of these. I am a little tempted to just check tennis balls at every person walking by who is complaining about traveling, crying, whining or simply looking a little unhappy.
11. And a special 11th story because I love breaking the rules.
Depending on who you are, I may or may not have left little notes all over their house just with a star on them saying “hahha, made you look.” I am the world’s greatest house guest. Hopefully we will still be family when they find them all.
Life is Full of Irony 