What?!
What? Plee?! That’s IT?!!!!
Ok, for those who are not “in the know”
Plee and I go way back. Way way way back. Somewhere between the womb and divaliciousness. College days, to be exact, when we, though from different universities several hundreds of miles apart, used to overdose on Korean American and Asian American intercollegiate activities and headaches. With similar attitudes of Korean Girl chutzpah, and charm, we got along famously over the internet for the year prior to us meeting serendipitously at a conference in Boston, and ever delightfully since our first face time meeting.
Both of us, armed with heavy rolodexes, were forces to be contended with in our own rights as we knew nearly everyone APA that was worth knowing within a 300 mile radius. For 19 year old college students, this was not to be taken lightly.
To this day we argue with each other over who knows more people. She refers to herself as the NY version of Me. I refer to myself as, well ~ just me. But that’s because I don’t *dare* to compare myself to the fearsome powers of social & professional networking that *she* has at her fingertips.
For the sake of equilibrium in the universe of Asian America, it is a very good thing that we reside on opposite coasts. Were we to spend too much time within each others’ spheres, there’d be some sort of cataclysmic event like an earthquake, or locusts, or…I dunno, my roommate getting laid.
We click. We rarely, if ever, need to explain ourselves or our woes to each other. I never feel at all hesitant to call her at odd ours of the morning to talk shop, get some reconnaissance on someone, or just plain dish. We occasionally commiserate about our similar woes with finding worthy men who can deal with our extensive social engagements and responsibilities. (Though she’s gone far more upscale, and me, more ghetto or fag/haggish).
I shit you not when I say I can quote her as saying
“You know, it’d be easier for us to find good men if we weren’t… you know… so … GOD.”
And on her last visit with me earlier in the year, I had tremendous anxiety that she would thieve away my pals. After all, within less than 15 minutes of meeting Ernie, she was beating him up. Literally. I mean, we *are* twins of sorts after all, but to take that right from me with such a sense of entitlement? My gawd. I’ve worked *YEARS* for the right to beat up Ernie and she nabs it in 15 fricking minutes!
And when I give her guest posting rights on my site and all she can say is “if you want to see my boobies…I will send you my sky diving pics. :X” I am utterly appalled. Appalled I say. Resoundingly appalled.
Appalled. She better make good with them sky diving pics to make up for this, yo. Appalled.
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