Moon cakes are my favorite

Since arriving at school, I've had this insatiable desire for all things considered to be Asian food - rice, noodles(PHO), stir fry vegetables, rice paper wraps, honey chicken...and the list goes on.

Over the weekend, I spent sometime getting dim sum in Philly's Chinatown.  It was good to have a savory meal of meats and more meats, with several cups of sweet tea.  It was also good to be surrounded by all the families getting their afternoon grub on, shopping for weekly groceries and just enjoying the Mid-Autumn Festival.  I don't particularly like Chinatown, much less Philadelphia's, to hang out in, but seeing all the bustling activity was a nice change of pace from college life.  Soooo many cute babies - I could barely stand not picking up one.

For a little bit, I contemplated on buying moon cake since it's one of my absolute favorite Asian desserts.  But in the end, my broke ass decided to be really frugal and I realized that I probably don't need to consume such cholesterol filled snacks on top of returning to my American college potato and cheese filled - actually not filled but rather ONLY - diet.

And then today in the midst of listening to Girls on the Dance Floor, my phone starts buzzing.  I get the surprising and semi-inconvenient once a month call from my dad, and pick up with the expectation of going over the alarming rate of expenses I've put on my credit card.  Instead, he tells me that he painted my room and purchased a new dining room table because the old one was ugly and too large.  In the back of my head, I start wondering if he's going through a mid-life crisis and has resorted to doing full renovations on the house.  But then in the end, he says to me that if I would like some moon cake, he'd ship them over to Bryn Mawr.

Sometimes I wonder about the devastating relationships that go on in the house, but then there are instances like this that make me realize that maybe another hour together at home isn't so bad.

I'm still waiting on the call about the credit card bill however.

What fitting weather

for a sad, sad day.

Eight years ago I was sitting in math class when the Assistant Principle came in and told us.

It was the first time I shed tears for people I didn't know.

I like how deceiving (facebook) photos can be.  Sometimes, people never look quite the same in real life as they do in the pictures (read: oogly).  Like the girls who take pictures in blinding overhead light so bright that it distorts the actual features of the face and hides the numerous blemishes that are littered all around.  But it's all relative, isn't it?

How do we judge people by their appearance from a few second's worth of camera shutters rather than by what they say?  Or is it that how they look that conveys the personality through images rather than words..?

Over the summer, I picked up the habit of reading Craig's List missed connection boards.  At first the act was something to pass the time during the wee hours of the morning.  But now I feel that I was searching for that one ad addressed to me; I wonder if the strangers I see on the train or walking past notice me.  There are so many people in New York City, is it really that difficult to remember a passing face?