I have been spending an educational and largely fun ten days in Colombo, Sri Lanka. Part of the job involves going out and getting drunk at night, which is very helpful for addressing the international traveller’s twin ailments of loneliness and jet lag-induced insomnia.
Last night, an expat Englishman pointed out to me that the name of this website, Badinia, means “I Want You”, in a very decidedly sexual way, in Singhalese. This was very helpful, because it explained why everyone I had given my business card to had laughed delightedly. Incidentally, that means my email address is I want you at I want you dot com. It’s things like this that keep my mother up at night.
I was recently in Asia, and it seems that there is no segment of the world population that is more adorable and more self-hating than Japanese girls. Everyone knows about double eyelid glue and tape, but I became very attached to a product that looked like a potato peeler that was supposed to be rolled on either side of one’s nose to create a more Western nose. This is, of course, impossible. The nose is not made of silly putty and can’t be molded from the outside. Most importantly, they all want to weigh under 100 pounds, regardless of height or build.
I bought a magazine in Narita airport so that I could pretend I had been to Japan, and found this article with a hundred pictures of girls with the reasons all of their bodies suck. One girl is thin, but her chest is *too* thin! One girl accidentally formed a bicep muscle! One girl’s body flaw is that her tits are too big. HER TITS. ARE TOO. BIG. Additionally, bitchy little insets from failed pop stars talk smack about these cartoon girls. This is why anorexia is still Japan’s most popular hobby! A popular surgery involves cutting a ligament so that one’s calf muscles atrophy and shrink away, leaving a stick-thin leg. Pretty! This makes me feel slightly better about the state that we’re in. At least I’m allowed to work out and have muscles, instead of just starving myself puny. I’m also glad to be back in the states because I don’t usually have this conversation at home:
Cassie: I saw your photo on Facebook!
Me: Oh, really?
Cassie: Yes, you looked very thin (indicating on face and neck where I used to be thin). Were you thinner when you were younger?
Me: No, actually I came out this size. I looked down and saw my mother’s bloody feet. I exploded her. Please pass the fried rice.
Here is a list of the most interesting questions I was asked in Hong Kong.
Q. Do you want your orange juice hot or cold?
A. Cold, please. Thank you for asking. “Hot Juice” would be a good name for a band, though. No-one has ever asked me that question before.
Q. Don’t you find that Hong Kong is just like New York?
A. What? Maybe if New York was 99% Chinese. Do you know what the phrase “Melting Pot” means? I saw a black dude yesterday and I thought I’d won some sort of a prize. Hong Kong looks like New York probably will in 2025. Q. I saw your Facebook profile yesterday, and in one of the photos you looked very thin (indicating in the neck and face where I was looking more thin.) Were you thinner when you were younger?
A. For one thing, thank you so much for asking. Secondly, no, unfortunately I was born this size. Like Athena springing from her father’s head full-grown, I exploded my mother. I never got to meet her, but I did see her bloody shoes left on the floor.
Questions I have for Hong Kong:
Does a giant black skull make people want to buy high-end t-shirts?
Does every event really have to have a mascot? Here’s the one for the Shanghai technology expo.
I got to hang out with some long-lost friends, and my family, who are always exciting to be with. They nearly did not attend, because it sold out and advance tickets had not been purchased.
I can only imagine because my sister thought something more important might come up at the last minute. My mother heckled me for a large portion of my set. Later, viewers asked where I had gotten such a talented plant, and I could only respond that it had been my actual mother. The following night, the festival had a dinner at Vivo, a restaurant on the long list that my sister Laura has been fired from, and I drank the greatest margarita. It was full of fruit and tequila and an orchid and evil. Having consumed a single beverage, I saluted my fellow funny ladies, and went to meet my family. I got on the highway and was mildly disturbed at the smell and sound my rental car was making.
Since I was nearly to my destination, and it was a rental car, I decided to persevere despite the thumping. I got to a stop light and a homeless man on the on-ramp walked up to my car and pulled a burned traffic cone out from underneath it, with a gesture of disgust.
I just back from a casino gig in beautiful Coos Bay, OR. It was a fun gig supporting the very funny Milt Abel. After my last casino gig in Pendleton, the Mill Casino seemed like a fancy dream. Generally, I’m too cheap to gamble, and would prefer to throw my money in the toilet- but I was trying to hide my eyes from the sadness of a five hundred year old woman putting pennies in a slot machine, threw two bucks in a poker slot, and won ten dollars American. I’m a winner, no matter what they said in high school! Ten dollars=PROFIT!