What’s in a name?
I’m not really fussy or particular about what anyone calls me. I know some people who really must be called by their full first name and don’t like when it’s shortened or really hate it if their name is pronounced incorrectly, but I’m not one of them. Almost everyone calls me Christine, but there are some people who don’t, and I’m not gonna lie, I kind of like having multiple monikers. Here are a few of them.
Chrissy - used by my parents since birth
Yin/Yinski/Yinster - used mostly by a few of my best friends and one guy I dated in college
CY - used only by Ryan Young
C - used by the two most religious men in my life
Chris - used by my college roommates and CM
Seen - used by my Cambodian family
I like them all. Call me what you want to call me, just as long as you’re calling me.
CM pushing my buttons and fueling my white-hot raging hatred
Cal pride doesn’t get more hardcore than this. Go bears (Taken with instagram)
My students are so gangster. Audrey is a 5th grader and I help her with school math…and she’ll do things like buy me boba, say I’ll be a good mommy, and blackmail me in her OG way (i.e. “If I do all my homework you have to answer three personal questions.” Which is how she knows about all my ex boyfriends and their dirty little secrets).
FYI, the picture of Aaron she sent was stolen off his blog and has been MS painted to say, “best looking out of all ur bfs”.
My fuckin brother
- Patrick: Let Mom know it's raining cats and dogs here, and I just stepped in a poodle, but at least I'm toasty and dry cause of your jacket and Mom's slightly feminine lavender umbrella
- Me: You stepped in a poodle? Messy.
- Patrick: It's a beautifully crafted pun. I don't have rain galoshes to stomp in puddles with impunity. So if you stomp in puddles you get wet. That's life.
- Me: And if you stomp in poodles they might bleed all over your non-galoshes.
- Patrick: So you're saying poodles are nothing but blood in fragile bubbles, and not a body encased in a skeleton battle tested to resist wear and tear right down to the last tuft of hair on its ferocious war-torn body
- Me: I mean...they're pretty fragile looking. Not exactly harbingers of fear, are they? A couple of good stomps would do them in.
- Patrick: What, am I going to randomly stomp on a poodle and tell its owner I'm aiding in the natural selection of stomp-resistant poodles?
- Me: You mean you didn't already do that?!
- Patrick: I had a quiz. Poodles cannot be stomped until quizzes have been had.
"Everyone is a loser sometimes."
My father, trying to make me feel better about not having friends
Handmade lunar new year wontons (Taken with instagram)
She’s leaving me for Seattle. (Taken with instagram)
Art show and dinner with David Ruiz’s friends tonight. A scary and wonderful thing, the blending of our social circles. (Taken with instagram)
"Please…if I just wanted to f*ck I would have asked you to f*ck in not so many words."
CM, demonstrating How Chivalry Has Changed
He tolerates me. Otherwise known as Why David Ruiz and I Are Friends, part XIII
New “intimate toy” as a part of the campaign to boost Cindy’s company’s ratings.
“Do you connect it to your keys for on the go romance…looks like a keychain” - CM
