I came home from a trip on Monday, got into apartment. Damn it was hot inside. It was like summer time with 100 degrees outside. I was sweating immediately. If I did not have friends over, I would leave fridge door open and dance naked inside… j/k

I left all windows and doors open over night. Tuesday night when I got home, it still felt like 85 inside. What’s wrong with the apartment, I thought. First I got a broken dishwasher, now it’s hot like an oven here. I doubled checked the heater; it’s off. Great…

I got hungry. So I decided to cook one of those frozen udon that my mom gave me. She said just pop in the oven for 10 or 15 minutes then it would be cooked. Last time it took 30 minutes. So I left it outside to defrost first. God.. even the drawers were hot inside… How would I be able to live here throughout the summer, I said to myself.

I turned on the oven to pre-heat. But it was damn hot inside, as if it was already…

Wait a sec…

There ain’t no light indicator for the oven. And the last time I cooked udon was two weeks ago… The stove surface felt hot.. so was the inside of the oven..

That means….

….
…

I just lived in an oven for over a week!!! my electricity bill… T_T”

I went to a trip with my mom today. She had two tickets to go to a flower show in San Diego with her Cantonese Students Association folks. I went along.

We were on a bus for perhaps two hours. It was rather uninteresting for me since I did not know anybody there besides my mother, who was very much engaged in conversations with other people during the whole trip. There were about 20 people on our bus. Among which, 1/3 were teenagers, kids, and babies. It was difficult to find anybody to talk to.

There was a family sitting behind our seats. I had a light chat with a male member of the family. He came with his parents and brother. We exchanged some nonsense laughters about nothing, and talked about our cells.

While I was trying to get attention from my mom, he asked for my phone number.

I smiled to myself, and said without turning back, “Sorry, I don’t give out phone numbers.”

He (pause for 20 seconds): “I was just going to send you some text messages to annoy you.” He grinned.

I stopped talking to him because my mom finally had a chance to talk to me. He tried to get my attention from behind a few times, but I avoided him entirely.

Finally he leaned over from behind.

He: “I am in fifth grade. What grade are you in?”

I: …

I: “I graduated from university two years ago.” I tried to show the kindest and most sincere smile I could possibly manage.

He: …

I quite enjoyed that moment of stunning him and shutting him off. I sat there with a satisfactory smile on my face, getting ready to sleep.

“So what’s your number?” His head showed up from above, with an innocent smile on his face.

I: … o_O’

P.S. Did I mention that he could talk to me from above ONLY because he was STANDING on his seat, which was not safe to do in a moving vehicle, while I was sitting down properly in my seat like a lady with invisible seat belt buckled up? That 9 year old is NOT taller than me, I can assure you that…