YenTang.com

Everything is a competition. Everything.

Tue, 31 Jan 2012 06:56:30 GMT

Of all the challenges I've imposed on myself throughout my life, one of the most satisfying ones was being a vegetarian for a semester during college. I had no political motivation. I didn't do it for the health benefits. I just wanted to see if I could.

I did, although I think I was technically a pescetarian because I remember eating fish with my vegetarian cousin over Thanksgiving. It actually wasn't that hard, if I have to be honest (and I don' t have to, but you caught me in a weak moment). All of the cafeterias had a big selection of cereal and I'm a fool for all cereals except Honey Smacks. That stuff is nasty.

Anyway, because my life is dark and empty right now, I want to relive a past glory and challenge myself again. This time, the competition will only last for the short (but could be shorter) month of February (damn you, leap year), but I'll do it right, without any seafood. Basically, I'll eat nothing that used to be consciously alive. Not sure if this includes eggs or not, but I'll probably refrain from them. I'm not sure if my enemy is meat or vegetables so the title card will either be:

Yen vs. Meat: Who Will Ignore Who Longer OR Yen vs. Vegetables: Eat or Be Eaten

So, let's get ready to rumble.

If all goes well and I don't cry too much, I might continue through March. I'm just kidding. This madness will end on March 1 with a beefy burger.

Tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people

Tue, 06 Dec 2011 19:37:48 GMT

A few years ago, I saw the Pope riding around in his PopeMobile. It was in Paris and he was causing quite the ruckus. Streets were blocked off, thousands of people were waving flags, songs were being chanted, and a woman was trying to talk to me about the helicopters flying overhead. It didn't matter that I couldn't hear her because there were helicopters flying overhead. I just repeatedly threw out my #1 French conversational phrase along with a shoulder shrug: C'est comme ça. It means, "It is what it is," except I can't stand to say that in English. So maybe nevermind about that.

Anyway, so the Frenchies were going hysterical over a VIP religious person and I was a part of, and simultaneously apart from, the moment. It was one of those meta moments in my life that I was able to step back and think, "How does this one person earn so much adulation? Also, I don't think I can move." So I stayed put and watched the PopeMobile roll its bad self to Notre Dame because sometimes it's just cool to be one with a crowd and go with the flow.

That's kinda sorta how I feel about Christmas. I grew up in a family where we exchanged presents, put up a fake five foot tree and visited friends over Christmas cookies, but we weren't Christian. I went to college in a town called Bethlehem, attended the vespers every year at the campus chapel and adored Linus' speech in A Charlie Brown Christmas, but I never thought much about little baby Jesus and what he means to Christians. (Ok, so I'm no good at paying attention to...anything).

My point is, I like this time of year. I think good will and peace on Earth are pretty great attitudes to have. I just don't owe all this goodness to a god or gods. This holiday is wholly entrenched in the American cultural landscape, even more so than the religious reasons. In fact, if I wanted to get all atheist in-yo-face, I'd point out the Roman Saturnalia origins and that Bible passage where ornamental trees are of the devil (or something like that). But I won't do that. I just want to enjoy this time of year along with everyone else when we're all being merry together. Let's just hate each other's guts the rest of the year.

Les Grands Espaces between now and then

Fri, 18 Nov 2011 16:52:20 GMT

I listen to music at work as often as I can since drowning out my co-workers helps me keep my sunny disposition. A good pair of headphones is probably a top reason why I'm still employed; that, and my incredible amount of minority statuses make me hard as hell to fire. Really, I'm a walking potential lawsuit.

My point is...don't eff with me. I have another point. Some of my music is now living in the cloud, some of it is on my phone and none of it includes any Indigo Girls songs from the last five years. Fascinating! I know, right? I used to count down the days to their album releases, but I haven't even bought their last two CDs and I'm not too thrilled about the two before those. The biggest reason, and I think it's extremely valid, is that their current output is just terrible.

I used to be in a constant state of anticipation for plenty of artists' new albums. The list of those who I would buy without hesitation or needing to hear samples first consisted of more than just Celine Dion, but it included Celine Dion which may be the bigger point. Anyway, now that I'm old and jaded and hate everything before I let myself like it (I'm really a joy to be around), my list has dwindled down to four magical artists: Dar Williams, Lori McKenna, CELINE!, and of course of course of course Isabelle Boulay.

The charming little woman just released Les Grands Espaces, her 11th album. I'm not going to review it because it would consist mostly of that Homer Uhhhhh slobbering sound. Classy, right? I'm a slave to that woman's vocal timbre. Also, Dolly Parton does a lovely duet with Isabelle and Dolly is never wrong. The point I'm finally making is that this album wasn't released in the USA and I couldn't download it legally. I had to order a real CD from some shifty foreign website (amazon.CA) and then express ship that sucker to me so I would have it in my hands 3 long days after its release date. This all cost me way more than my weekly allowance. Contrast that to the latest Indigo Girls' album which is available for immediate download for $5 and I won't even click my mouse a few times to get it because it is just gawd awful.

What's the conclusion here? I don't know really, but probably something about Celine.

London called and it's not collect

Sat, 29 Oct 2011 06:26:56 GMT

We went to London about a month ago. It's a fantastic city with a hell of a lot of people everywhere. We did lots of touristy things because we embrace being tourists and aren't in denial when we travel. We're usually in denial at all other times, though. There were lots of things we didn't do and I guess that means we have to go back. If we must...

Full trip report and some photos can be found here: http://yen.issomewhere.com/

Whose word is good? This girl's.

Fri, 02 Sep 2011 06:32:11 GMT

A little less than a year ago, I made a bold statement. From my blog post entitled Robots in disguise (9/8/2010) I said:

I've almost convinced myself to dress up in costume [at DragonCon] next year. The small obstacle I have to overcome is that I possess no talent in creating costumes and have no idea where to start. But I do have this ability to do what I set my mind to and if I want to make a master cable that Rita wears as a belt in Flushed Away, I'm going to have a master cable next year.

Ladies and gents, behold! The master cable:

In case your memory needs refreshing, this is the master cable from the hilarious movie that I know y'all have watched just as much as me:

Oh yeah, there are pants to go along with this, too. Not that going pants-less at DragonCon would be that out of place. But Cylinda and I put our collective, absolutely non-graying heads together and challenged ourselves to make a pair of Union Jack pants with some tape and paint. I'll document that process in a future post, but for now, I just wanted to make it known that just like Rita Malone, when I make a deal, I make a deal. (The deal being, I blogged about it in passing and then it morphed in my brain into a promise I made to all mankind.)

Also, I'm really good at boasting. See above.

Inked by the internet

Wed, 17 Aug 2011 14:25:28 GMT

I've often told myself that if I didn't possess the pain tolerance of a fussy, cranky baby (and that's where my similarities with cranky babies end), I'd have a full body suit of tattoos by now. Okay, I'm totally lying, but I think a sleeve would be bad ass cool. No, that's not believable, either. Sorry. One tattoo. That's what I meant.

So I got one this week, but it's not real because remember my pain tolerance is rated at negative 10? There are companies out there on the internets that sell temporary tattoos and a few that allow you to upload or create your own. Of course, I wanted my own creation because I can't stop thinking how awesome I am. And of course, the tattoo I made is of my own initials. You can tell, right? The ball-n-chain informed me that I was supposed to get her name tattooed on me, but that's quite a commitment! I mean, these things last for 3-5 days before wearing off. Who knows what situations I might find myself in 3-5 days from now? WHO REALLY KNOWS?

That's the beauty of these things. Besides not having to endure tears of pain (the warm towel used to apply this tattoo was quite comforting), I can change my mind at a moment's notice without having to pay for laser removal surgery. And while the quality doesn't compare with a real tattoo and won't fool anyone but really stupid children, the low cost makes this a real value. Honestly, I'm glad this is fake looking because I fear my mother. She once told me that if I ever got a tattoo, she'd slice it off and the flesh underneath with a sharp, sharp knife. True, horrifically frightening, story.

P.S. My mom is the nicest, friendliest person you could ever hope to meet. She'll make you delicious egg rolls!

Style is no substitute for substance

Wed, 03 Aug 2011 18:42:54 GMT

I'm going to be honest. I'm writing this post just to show my friend Aisha who's really in charge around here. She thought she was being crafty by giving me something called a Blog With Substance Award and in the process, guilt me into writing something substantial, but it's not going to work. As all you fine readers know, I only write about the most insubstantial stuff that could ever cross my mind. My brain is mostly made of marshmallow. True story. So Aisha, this is me one-upping you. I plan to make this post as pointless as I possibly can. You may want to avert your eyes.

Oh, so you're still here. Do I have to make good on my threat? Dammit. No worries, I'm up for the task. Oh, here's something remarkably unimportant: Cylinda has a new blog and is taking it to the man. She's mad as hell and she won't take it anymore. She's about to firebomb... Wait. Oh hell. This is kind of interesting to everyone who knows her because seeing her angry is like having Celine hold a private house concert for just you and she's wearing... Nevermind. It's just rare and you're damn lucky to witness it.

What else? With this award, I'm supposed to make a list of random things about myself and then give the award to more people. Well, I'm not going to make no list. In yo face, Aisha. But I'll give the award to someone just cause I feel a little bad about that rude comment in the previous sentence.

I, Yen M Tang, thusly, and verily, bestow this Blog O' Substance Honor Trophy to my favorite blogger in the whole wide world of Internets: Magic Jewball. She doesn't know me from Fozzie Bear. I have nothing in common with her. I have just an inkling of who she is from her blog posts. But her writing is outstanding. Her rambling is coherent and always makes a point and that point often makes me verklempt and causes other ridiculous emotional feeling type stuff. I wish I could write like her, but then I would have to stop being so rude and I can't give that up. But enough about me (NEVER! Hiss). Go read her stuff. I think she deserves a huge audience and the coveted dream of bloggers: a book deal (with a big signing bonus).

Pennsylvania Snack Attack

Sat, 30 Jul 2011 06:54:19 GMT

Oh yes. Finally, Georgia can be educated on what good tasting snacks are from the snackiest state in the Union: Pennsylsnackia. I'm not sure how long Turkey Hill has been here in this market, but I only learned of it this week. It thus completes the tasty triumvirate of the best snack brands that the Keystone State has to offer: Grandma Utz, TastyKake and Turkey Hill. This is a ridiculously tasty photo:

People, unlike most other things, I would not steer you wrong on this. I come from the ultimate snack factory land. I've worked at the Twizzler factory one summer. My uncle used to work at M&M/Mars. I've been to Chocolate World one hundred times because it was nearly in my backyard. So next time you're in Publix, try some TastyKakes. Next time you're in Kroger, look for Grandma Utz and Turkey Hill. I guarantee that you'll have a tasty, delicious day.

What matters the most

Wed, 20 Jul 2011 15:01:27 GMT

Hey there good-looking persons and other things that can read,

In the five years that I've been blogging, I have somehow managed to only skip one month without writing a post. This is because I'm programmed to be consistent (consistently awesome? YES). This amazing factoid depends on you completely believing me and also blithely ignoring the time I lollygagged in Paris and then got depressed for a few months afterwards. It was a sad time, indeed, because the letdown from such an anticipated trip was the one thing I didn't prepare for. I just didn't want to talk to anyone, even anonymous good-looking persons like you. And you. And you.

This summer is the second time I've gone through such an absence. And like last time, it involves depression and depressing things. I don't tend to overshare here, unless we're talking about some fine, juicy French Canadians, so I'll just say that I think I'm better now. Proof: You're reading something I'm writing.

So onward and upward. Let's catch up together:

In May for my birthday, I dragged the ball-n-chain with me to Niagara Falls and Toronto (that's non-Frenchy Canada, the horrors) and had a fantastic time. I had been before as a wee child, but this was a first for b-n-c. The highlight of the trip for me, besides the majestic falls how wondrous blah blah blah, was the rental car we got upgraded to. It was a Jeep Wrangler Unlimited which is a beast of a vehicle. I normally ride around in small putt-putt cars in my everyday life so being almost as high as tractor trailers was fun as hell. This is a contender for the next car I buy.

The other vacation we took was to Clearwater, Florida for the Fourth. It wasn't the small quaint beach town we're used to (we're used to unrenovated Jekyll Island) so the gobs of people and cars was unexpected, but not off-putting. The water was clear, the sand was lovely, the weather was perfect and the grouper sandwiches were abundantly eaten. We even saw tons of fireworks right from one of our balconies (we had two because that's how we roll). Here's one photo I took as proof:

Other than traveling, there was all the depressing stuff. Oh yeah, nevermind, we're not talking about that. I bought some French novels while in Toronto so I have enough to make my previous not-thought-through quota of reading five of them this year. I've actually started three of them, but I keep stopping and forgetting what I read in French and then having to start over. Let me give you a tip: It's not an ideal way to read a book. Let me give you another tip: Avoid reading in French if you can. It may drive you nuts. I also started a Michael Cunningham novel so there's a total of four books on my nightstand and I'm not past page 30 in any of them. I've also learned that I'm not a person who can juggle more than one book at a time. I possess no talent for reading as it is so I don't know what I'm thinking.

I'm not, that's the problem. I just want to play Soduku all the time. Now that's a problem. But it's a fine problem to have, as far as problems go. So really, my life is just as Lori McKenna describes it. I mean, not exactly what she says because I'm not a New England housewife, but you know what I mean so I'll shut up now and just let her tell you herself.

Am I being chased?

Thu, 28 Apr 2011 19:16:03 GMT

About 13 weeks ago, I started the Couch to 5K program. It's an interval running program that builds you up to running 30 minutes or 3.1 miles in 9 weeks. Okay so I took a few weeks longer, but you know how I get lazy. Anyway, point is, I just finished the program tonight! I can get on a treadmill or go to the track and run for 30 continuous minutes. That may seem to be a nutty thing to do and I agree. I've never liked running unless I was chasing a ball (basketball, tennis, etc.) and for what I can remember of my life, I've never enjoyed being chased.

But besides making me able to run for endurance (though I know 30 minutes isn't that long in the running world, but I live in the real world), this C25K thing has made me kinda sorta like the act of running itself. I sometimes look forward to strapping on my Vibrams (no mocking please... ok a little mocking) and working up a sweat. It's bizarre and I should knock it off, but I can't. I've gone ahead and signed up for a 5K race in a few weeks. Now, I know I do stupid things often, but this one ranks pretty high. What was I thinking? I actually haven't run 3.1 miles yet in all of my "training". Yes, that word definitely needed to be typed with quotes. I did go 2.5 miles today and with a few more weeks to go before I have to run in front of others, I know I can make it to the end of the race without stopping.

After that, though, I'll wise up and get back to the couch.

No, no, that would be stupid, but relaxing, but stupid. I'm half-heartedly thinking of "training" for a 10K, but maybe it's just the post-running endorphins talking right now. Probably.

Oh, one last thing. If you've ever considered C25K or just wanted to run, I can attest that this program works. Seriously, if I can do it, anyone and their mothers and their mothers' mothers can do it.