For the longest time, I looked at David Sedaris’ writing as a model for how I would like to write but after reading this book, I have found a new inspiration. Karr’s writing is exactly the style and flavor to how I aspire to write. Her similes and analogies made me say œwow and œthat was great out loud so many times I sounded like a broken record.

The Liar’s Club

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I can’t help but to associate the word œmagic with a mystical and fantastical universe. Not the E.T. kind but like a yellow brick road kind. Elves, sprites, wood nymphs and witches inhabit this land and good and evil battle ferociously to the end. But then I thought, Marquez surely couldn’t be writing about fantastical characters when the subject of his book is mainly about the Colombian (I hate when people spell this with a œu) drug world. But in a way, he does.

While the topography tests his physical endurance, it is the natives who test his spirit and resolve. Pham encounters distant relatives, devious tour guides, street urchins and ominous ruffians. Each encounter takes an emotional toll. In this journey of self-discovery and renewal, Pham comes to terms with his past, his identity and most importantly, his place in this world.

Perhaps she likes to watch the people she is praying for. Perhaps she feels sorry for them. Perhaps she revels in the fact that she is not one of them. Perhaps I’m over-analyzing.

Balance

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When he’s not scent marking, he’s busy retrieving miscellaneous items back to me. It’s usually mundane stuff like branches, plastic bags, paper cups, etc. Sometimes, he brings back items that are a little more unconventional such as condoms or dead iguanas. But those items are few and far in between. So much so that I rarely think about what he brings back to me. That is until the other day.

Caught Red-Handed

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From this American Life

So I’m looking at my car and comparing it to my neighbor’s clean, shiny car. A runway model parked next to a housefrau. But there’s something familiar with my car, something endearing. It’s not so bad. Then I remember that I have a couple of torn-up, faded, stretched-out t-shirts (and yes I admit, several pairs of underwear) that I refused to give up. A smile sneaks on my face “ I do know the value of sentiment, of comfort, of familiarity. It’s a good feeling.

So I’m wondering where I misplaced the memo detailing all the current sexual innuendos, out-nuendos, under-nuendos, and any other “nuendos. When tossing the salad no longer involves the use of tongs (or maybe it still does). I’m scared that I’ll say hello to a co-worker and it will mean I like to see you naked.

The transformation was instantaneous. The short, awkward kid bloomed into this smooth, fluid dancer who moonwalked, twirled and balanced on his toes with such dexterity, it was as if Michael Jackson was truly channeling through. It reminded me of crippled believers walking again with a touch of a preacher’s hand.

Man in the Mirror

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Asian mothers have the ability to change kernels of guilt into full-blown stalks of blame and penitence. When Asian mothers are in this mode, it’s best to lay supine on the floor and act dead. Hold your breath for as long as you can and stay still because if she detects you survived the initial blow of guilt, she will go after the jugular.

Mother

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