My Life Is a Sitcom (II)

My life is a sitcom.

Last week, I was meeting up with Miss Jessica Pruett at Westwood Park, one of the few places that nature is found in the area. It’s still a pretty depressing looking spot compared to what we know parks can actually be.

While we were engaging in some deep conversation, an elderly woman, pulling her small rather annoying canine, stopped at our picnic table.

You see, as one who is reading my written thoughts and perhaps will continue to do so in the future, you must understand my dislike, fear, and even hatred for animals. I will simply say that through my experiences, which are many, there has been little affirmation to me that any living creature that is not of the human species is willing to engage with me peacefully. If I was bold enough, I would wear a t-shirt that read “Humans rule!”

With that in mind, I continue.

As this poor elderly woman attempted to pull her dog away from us, the pooch continued to sniff and, basically, be “all up in our business.” My comfort zone was breached and I oh-so-wanted to break free. But my desire to be polite and respectful gets the better of me most of the time, and so I stayed put. It was absolute torture.

As Jessica (one who does not carry an irrational dislike or fear of animals) petted the dog, the elderly woman proceeded to say something while she tugged that made me feel like the cameras were rolling once again. She yelled to her pet:

“Amy! Get over here. Amy! C’mon.”

The little beast’s name was Amy. She named her dog Amy. My name is Amy. I fear and dislike dogs. Amy the dog wouldn’t leave me, Amy the human, alone. FML.

What are the chances? This, my friends, was no coincidence. During moments like these, I know for sure that God has the best sense of humor of all.

This is Amy signing off for August 11th, 2009.

My Life Is a Sitcom (I)

My life is a sitcom.

Last weekend, the women staff of InterVarsity Bruin Christian Fellowship was privileged enough to indulge in a getaway at a beach house in Port Hueneme. Jess’s coworker so graciously lent us her humble abode by the sea for us to unwind, get refreshed, and bond. I believe we accomplished all of that except not through the most expected of ways. Allow me to explain.

Us six women had just finished a wonderful feast of sweet potato fries, salad, corn, crescent rolls, and grilled Mahi-Mahi and was gathered around ready to head out for a moonlight stroll with a possible stop at the Dairy Queen. After some conversation, we decided to clean up before going on such a walk and praise the Lord we did.

Ingrid headed to the kitchen first and proceeded to ask, in the most kind and calm manner, “Guys, is there supposed to be a fire outside? Wait, there shouldn’t be right?”

I and some of the others rushed to the kitchen to the double doors that led to the patio. They were a bright orange and it looked like I was on the set of Backdraft. And I thought to myself, “Shit. I was the one who barbecued.”

FML.
FML.

You see, I would not do it justice in sharing such a story over my blog. The story’s beauty comes from a group effort, told from multiple perspectives and that, in its fullest effect, is where I have moments where I pause and ask myself, “Where are the cameras?”

Yes, this used to be a broom. I was wielding this firey object and whacking the flames unsuccessfully.
Yes, this used to be a broom. I was wielding this firey object and whacking the flames unsuccessfully.

But I’ll at least say that by the grace of God, the house was barely even charred. The stupid move came in me deciding to be resourceful, a both useful and destructive characteristic of my Asian culture, when I put back some warm charcoal into its original bag. I’ll leave you with that.

So go ahead, when you see any of us women, ask us “How’d you manage to not burn the house down that weekend in Port Hueneme?” We’ll probably chuckle, pause for a couple of seconds to gather ourselves, and start with “Amy put some Mahi-Mahi on the barbecue grill for dinner that night…”

What was once a broom now hangs on our balcony door. It's very special to us.
What was once a broom now hangs on our balcony door. It's very special to us.

Oy.

Happy Birthday Lisa. I hope Disneyland was fun today, and the cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen in our room is still creeping me out a little.

This is Amy Hu signing off for August 7, 2009.

I Find Humor In Everything

I attempted to not make one joke for just one night. That in itself was a joke.

My roommate Lisa and I agreed on a bet where my endurance and self-control was challenged: I was to not crack one joke from 5pm on Tuesday until we went to sleep that night.

A “joke” was defined, basically, as any words, gestures, or facial expressions that would provoke any sort of laughter or response. This could be in response to what someone else said or an observation I was making. Laughter was also tricky because if I was laughing at someone, that would mean I was teasing, which is considered me provoking humor.

When I came home from work a little after 5, Lisa had the best setup–she was lying on my bed on her borrowed laptop, waiting for me to notice the Twilight desktop background she had added as well as my internet browser opened up to Scooter World. That was a taste of what the night was like. It was absolute torture.

So very many things I wanted to say that I strained my throat and face to the point of pain and soreness. I wanted to laugh so many times, as even Kelly, Mel and friggin’ Tammy ganged up on me. As Lisa put it, I was a volcano ready to erupt and everyone was poking my bulging mountainside.

Lisa was actually quite lenient in the whole process, as it was obvious the supposed “observations” and facial reactions itself was intended for humor, even with my serious tone of voice.

We ended up at the Century City Mall getting Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, and further torture and poking at my volcanic self occurred as the worker of this infamous ice cream shop decided it would be funny to have a hypothetical food fight. I was the kid at the playground who oh so very much wanted to join in on the four-square game. But I instead pretended I was not interested and chuckled in pain.

And then my lava leaked.

No, that is not an analogy for my menstrual cycle and pants wear, but I cracked the most subtle joke without even thinking about it. There was Lisa, mint chocolate chip ice cream, and the color green involved.

Yes, it was the most “unepic” ending to this whole ordeal, but I just simply could not take it anymore.

So what lesson did I learn from last night? I do find humor in everything, and it’s a large part of how I communicate and relate to people. Sure, I can be serious when needed, but I naturally look for opportunities for a subtle joke here, and a ridiculous comment there.

Twilight Movie Poster

As a result of being on the losing end of such a wager, I had to buy Twilight on DVD, and Lisa just cannot wait for us to watch it together. I do not look forward to adding such a movie to my DVD collection. And no, I cannot give it away. It was part of the deal.

She feels terrible about making me buy it and watch it, but I am a woman of my word. I think it tortured her more to see me buy it than me. Oh Lisa.

I’ll tell ya, I really wanted Lisa to wear her penguin robe while eating dinner before our summer small group community. But then again, I might have a near-death experience in watching her attempt to eat with flippers and a hood. But it looks like I’d better find a two hour block of time for some vampire/human love.

This is Amy Hu signing off for July 14th, 2009.

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