February 2009 – Dietingfashions

My Poetry

I began writing poetry at 15. I was such an awkward teenager. Most of the time I was depressed and stressed. Even though I had a loving family, my parents were strict. I couldn’t get a B in my classes. I had to be the best at everything. I was the daughter and the son they never had. I had to live up to the family name and bring all the pride home.

Poetry became my safe haven. Without it, I think I wouldn’t be here today. It really cleared my brain from all the cluttered mess.

At 15, one poem I wrote was for content. It went on to win The Best in the City Award at the 10th grade level. Here are others I have written so far (more will be coming soon).

Disturbed
Whispers In The Wind
Little Pieces
Too Good
American Dream

I Lost My Way
I saw you one day
Walking with a friend
One look and I knew
We’d be together someday
You’re so right for me,
I hope you know,
But then I lost my way.

I had your heart
I saw that in your eyes.
I became your entire life
Wrapped yourself around me,
And so happy were we.
But I lost my way.

Along with your heart,
I also took your glee.
I broke your world
Into sad little pieces.
I’m sorry honey,
We’re not meant to be.
I lost my way,
My way to your heart.

I just fell out of love…
I’m so sorry.

Work In Progress

Many of my close friends do not know this about me: My dream is to be a writer… a romance writer.

I love to read and write. But my writings are more for business than pleasure. I have started several novels. But I have never completed any of them. Mostly these stories and these characters just rotate in my head, waiting for me to do SOMETHING! I have half heartedly pursued this dream.

I will try to use this blog as an outlet for that writing process. You will probably see many “beginnings” and never an end. Hopefully someday, I will be able to complete one novel or all.

Please note that these are romances so there will be adult content.

IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 PLEASE HAVE PARENTAL PERMISSION.

Only In My Dreams

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Trouble

Customer Horror Stories

Most of our customers are really awesome people. But we get those customers who are just out of their minds.

Most Vietnamese customers are just really bad consumers. Many come to our store thinking we mark everything expensive and give huge discounts. We do not do that. They are always demanding for a 50% discount and NO TAX. I do not understand the no tax. Everyone has to pay tax. We get yelled at by Vietnamese consumers all the time, saying that are prices are too high. If they are too high, how come we’re getting business. The only people who complain are Vietnamese people who just come in to attack us. They throw tantrums and whine and whine about prices. It’s really sad to watch.

We had one guy insult us working women saying, “Don’t talk to those girls. They don’t know anything.” The strange thing was he was the one who didn’t know anything. He wanted to purchase this mixer with a built in amplifier. He asked me “How many watts does this unit have?” I told him, “It is only a mixer, so it does not produce any wattage.” He told me, “No, I had one like this. It was also an amplifier.” I had to show him on the box that the unit said “MIXER.” Whatever dude.

We totally have Asians think that a mixer will make them automatically sound better. One time, this Vietnamese girl was like, “See. This mixer is broken. It doesn’t make me sound better.” She’s singing on the mixer and we tell her you have to create your own sound. “In order to use the mixer properly, you need to adjust the echo, and other effects on this mixer, to fill in with your voice. You can’t just plug and play. And each song is a different tune that you would adjust to fit accordingly. ” She refused to believe that she had to sing well in order to sound good.

About 80% of Vietnamese people do not treat others how they are treated. I think they just shop to attack the business. We get a good percentage of machine illerate Vietnamese customers. They don’t do product research before buying. They do not know the market prices nor do they know what the product they need to get. They all say “We’re engineers. We know what we’re doing. My son is a doctor. We’re educated. We do not need help from you. We know more than you will ever know.” That attitude and ego is such a nightmare.

We do not want your business if you keep acting so high handedly.

My Dream Home

I have a lovely house. It’s a two story with my very own library. My husband has his flat screened TV living room, that is easily accessible to a nice sized kitchen. 2 bedrooms and a study finalizes the rest of the house.

But strangely, it’s not my dream home. I think my dream home got inspired by a Premier Homes magazine, and now that house is stuck in my mind. I don’t think I’ll ever own a house like that. It’s just too oppulent and showy. I’m just a suburban working mom.

Here are the pictures from my dream home from Premier Homes magazine:

Guilt Trips = Road of Pain

I was raised in a loving family. I just didn’t get the kind of love I wanted. The more I pleased my parents the harder they were on me. If I gotten an A in school, it was not “Good Job!” But it was “Why didn’t you get an A+?” I had once gotten a B in English in 10th grade. My father enrolled me in Sylvan Learning Center.

I always wanted a praise from them, but I never really gotten that. When I had gotten into New York University, they had bribed me to stay at home. When I had gotten a job, they bribed me into working at their business.

It wasn’t bribing. It was more like guilt trips.

Somehow, I am still falling for those guilt trips. The things I wanted to do, I couldn’t do without a guilt trip. When can I ever move on?

Tonight wasn’t an example of a guilt trip. But it hurt me nonetheless. Parenting is not easy. But they shower a love for my baby, than I had ever seen. I never gotten that attention.

I want reassurance that I’m raising my baby the right way. When my mom starts to say, Megan didn’t drink enough, I responded “The pediatrician said only 12oz to 15oz a day.” My parents would constantly respond that I was raised differently and grew up fine.

I really didn’t like how I was raised in the first place. I was on formula until I was 3. I had cavities with 6 silver teeth at the age of 4. I didn’t have a drop of water as a child. I drank Seven Up since I was a baby. All because my parents “raised” me that way.

My beliefs are clashing with their methods. My mom got fed up at my “wishes” and said that I should handle it fine, that she will no longer interfere.

Why does it always seem to be a threat that comes out of my mom’s mouth?