Are you going for that Asian Michael Jackson look?

Few things could be truer than the resemblance my girlfriend's mother shares with the late Michael Jackson. The wavy black hair. The mangled nose job. The pale old skin. The creepy soft voice. The vacuous blank stare in their eyes. Even their fashion sense is similar.

Many people feel that Michael Jackson's plastic surgery left
him looking freakish and inhuman.

One must ponder if she went for that look on purpose, or if the random direction of people with too much money to know what to do with led her - unwittingly - in that direction. It's hard to know, really. Somewhere amid the plastic surgery and bird's nests soups, did the money drive her toward being more like poor old Michael?

It's doubtful really. Her opinions are constantly self contradictory, or incoherent, so the idea that she had willingly transformed herself to the Asian Michael is unlikely. But fun to ponder, nevertheless

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One must also ask the question "how many nose jobs is too many".

Jocelyn Wildenstein. Click this link for source.

As tempted as I am to answer that with the clichéd "any nose jobs is too many." I'll opt for the more understanding two. Two nose jobs is too many. The first one can look natural, and make people happy, but after that, how many times do you need to chisel your bust to get it look just right? It's a domino event of future plastic surgeries if you ask me. And how long till you go from looking like a normal person to a featureless doll?

And yet, I can't really knock her for it. If it makes her happy whatever. It's one of the few things that makes her happy that doesn't step on anyone else's toes.

The family

I've been planning on creating this blog for some time now, and the perfect opportunity to vent has popped up. But first, a bit of background story.

First world problems, right? WRONG SUCKA!

My girlfriend's mother is a psychopath. Perhaps not in comoletely literal terms, but I imagine she would score rather high on a psychopathy test. She is narcissistic, controlling, and abusive. I'm not going to try to convince you that in this parahraph, however. That is a job that the entirety of this blog is setting out to do.  And the purpose? Well to make money off of monetizing my misfortune of being stuck with this lunatic. In other words, trying to make the best of a bad situation, by building a pipe dream for adsense revenue.

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Tonight I received a text message from my uncle's boyfriend. His mother is dying, and he may need
me to watch the dog for him. At this point, it's relevant to know that it's an indoors dog. He doesn't do well in other environments, least of all, without his owners. That means in order to watch the dog, I have to stay at their condo, ideally with my girlfriend.

The expectations of Asian Parents. Amirite?

Knowing what the answer will be already, I called my girlfriend anyway to ask her if she will watch the dog with me. The reason being, her mother won't give her permission to. I expected it but gave her the usual protests of reason anyway. "It's an emergency... Won't she understand that there's tragic circumstances... Can't she understand that they're family?"

My girlfriend doesn't answer the questions directly. It doesn't matter, because they were rhetorical and we already both know the answers. "It's not an emergency. You have more important concerns. They're not family."

She would say this, despite that she had pushed her own daughter out of her life for nearly three years. And she would say this, despite the fact that in those years we had continued life without her in it. My girlfriend had become an extension of my family, and in secret I had met her entire family in distant China. But of course her mother would never understand that.

The beginnings of an argument began to surface as we both went silent on the phone. Seeing this, I explained that we could talk about it when I get home from work.

When I got home, the usual welcoming from my girlfriend wasn't present. I could see that I already put her in a bad mood, just by getting her to think about it. I downplayed how inconvenient the situation was and her mood lifted quickly. We decided that in order to watch the dog we would have to sneak over to the condo at night, after her mother went to bed, and sneak back in the morning before she woke up. It would give us plenty of time as she normally sleeps at least ten hours a day.

And so, that seems to be how things are going to work out....

Until my next update, folks. Take care.