Han Solo In "Mythomania"

My friend Derek Kirk Kim, cartoonist turned film auteur who's also responsible for the short documentary about the garage (Raina Lee vs. The Infinite Garage) just completed a hilarious web series called Mythomania about the life and times of indie cartoonists. These aren't the guys who draw steroid pumped dudes in capes, but the ones at the small press ghetto at Comicon with Xeroxed and stapled autobiographical masterpieces. Zinesters and other misunderstood artists will be able to relate!

I lent Derek a few nerd props to decorate the cartoonist's living room, such as my life size Han Solo cut out and Bladerunner Laserdisc (mounted on the right wall), the Director's Cut. So I had a minor infatuation with sci-fi era Harrison Ford in high school. Notice my friend Vivian Bang (right), who sported garage fashions last year in her shoot with Vivica Fox. I'm glad the garage gets around!

Anyway, awesome job for a first time filmmaker. Congrats, Derek!

World's Shortest Champagne Tasting Party

Going to dispel the fine wine myth.

Grew curious about the quarter century cases of Riesling and champagne from our beloved Numero Uno Pizzeria. Broke out the bottle of Andre bubbly and knew it was going to be the world's shortest tasting party.

Is old champagne suppose to look like diluted soy? Seemed like I could marinate adobo in it. Sadly, the brut just tasted like vinegar.  

The Gift Undies

I was still uncovering new things before the estate sale, like these delectable (f)undies. NWT (new with tags) from The Limited offshoot Cacique, this navy satin bikini brief has a repeating print of wrapped Christmas gifts!

They're perfect, really. When you put them on, the present is ultimately you.

A Maps of Remainders

There's enough space to rollerskate in the garage, like the goddess Olivia Newton-John in Xanadu. I must say that every time I throw out a few things because I fucking love Xanadu. But this time it's for reals.

To the layperson it may look like a lot of stuff. My good friend Vivian, a Korean minimalist gasped when she saw what I still had left. Unlike the Chinese, Koreans are compulsive chuckers of things. They anti-hoard mainly because like to have new stuff. Chinese people like to keep their old, crappy stuff just like a Depression survivor. Another Korean friend takes clothes to Beacon Closet's every week. But when we're about to go out she complains that she doesn't have anything to wear. Koreans-- you gotta love them.

I think I've done well. I feel as if I'm only carrying a few feathers whereas before I had a giant pile of rocks.

Remainders consist of:

• Boxes of 1-Up Zine, the video game zine I edit and publish. Keep punk rock publishing alive--  buy some for your local bookstore! 
• Electric organ. I couldn't sell it. Maybe it was because the ex came over and played it once, and we had a nice time. Or I'm just not giving up the idea of having an Infinite Garage Band, even if I don't have a garage in my next place of residence.   
• Trash pile.  
• Donation pile.  

More about the estate sale later. I haven't been updating because I've been busy freaking out about the sale, but I'm back before I start freaking out about the contractors. The sale however went swimmingly. It also did not lack drama. Someone got slapped. Someone got tossed out the front door and crashed with a great thud. Old friends and lovers came by. It felt a bizarro "This Is Your Life" amongst a crowd of people fighting over my things and memories.

So the Garage isn't over yet. How do you punctuate infinity? I'm still trying to find a way.

Waiting for Salvation to load it all up tomorrow.

Fashion Friday: Political Fashion

As a kid I remember a handful of inspirational Chinese Americans ladies in the public eye. Ice skater Tiffany Chin, news anchor Connie Chung, and California Secretary of State March Fong Eu. It was nice to know that I didn't have to grow up to be the mousy, awkward Asian that most of us are raised to be. I could figure skate, work in news media, and even run for political office. I went on to do all three, if you count my appointment as ASB slideshow historian at Peninsula High as political office.

My parents were not particularly political, sometimes swaying Republican because their aversion to democratic taxes, other times standing completely still. What excited them however was the Chinese lady in the California state office. Since all Chinese people know each other, my parents ended up at a political fundraiser for March Fong Eu in the mid 80s, where this photo took place. March Fong Eu was the first Asian American woman voted to state constitutional office and served almost 20 years. She comes from the illustrious California Fong political clan, which also spawned Republican terror Matt Fong.

I love that March took photos with people in front of a Victorian-age portrait of herself. Do you look at the real or fake? She might have thought, "If I put myself out there enough times, as clones or flat likenesses you will have to remember me again and again." 

Golden Shark Fins

Found a box of golden wings and marveled. They are actually dried shark fins, calcified bundles of clear golden fibers that curl like hair at the ends. They glistened. They smelled of the ocean. I hate to say it, but they smelled like the end of a multi-course Chinese banquet, which is shark's fin soup.  

To the Chinese, shark's fins are the penultimate delicacy. The soup can fetch $100 a bowl. It's served as a display of wealth and cultivate at fancy banquets and weddings. But the past few decades the Chinese obsession with shark's fin soup has lead to the gradual extinction of the species. Fisherman "fin" the sharks, a horrific practice where the fins are cut and the de-finned sharks get thrown back into the ocean. In recent years global movements have risen up against the sale and consumption of shark's fins. Yao Ming stated he will never eat shark's fin soup again, and the state of Hawaii was the first in the U.S. to ban the sale. My dad's family loved consuming exotic and obscenely expensive Chinese cuisine (dried mussels, abalone, or dried roe) so this is not surprising. It's just very strange

The fins themselves don't taste like much. After they are soaked they become a gelatinous noodles that is rubbery like calamari but also crunchy. You're in it for the soup. It's faintly fishy, supposedly with restorative health properties. I can recycle these golden shark fins one day for a very special occasion like my wedding or much closer on the horizon, when I finally move out of the house. Yes, these will be the last shark fins I will ever eat. 

Electric Organ From The Infinite Garage Band

My tiger parents had me hitting the ivory keys at age three. We had an upright Yamaha which didn't get as much use as it should have. I played for seven years, long enough to learn Fur Elise, the most widely recognized song in Taiwan. There, you'll hear it in electric greeting cards, music boxes, and as department store Muzak. I learned the piece to please my mother. Only after then did she finally allow me to give up my not-so-great piano career. 

To inspire me even more, my parents purchased this Schafer and Sons Electric Organ. It's been in the garage for over two decades now and I'm stoked that it even works. It has all sorts of instrument sounds like the Hawaiian slack guitar and the banjo, and has canned beats like Bossa Nova, Teen Beat, March, and Dixieland. I'm now equipped to start my low-fi Infinite Garage Band which will only feature instruments from the garage! It's going to be a bitch to go on tour with the organ though.

Here's a demo: 

When Aunties Attack The Garage

It's getting ever nearer to the end! I am having an estate sale in a month. Before the estate sale people come to price everything in my life away I invited my aunties over for one last sweep. My mother and her sisters were so tight knit that I knew they'd be the ones to make the best use of her things.

Growing up, all four sisters were attached at the hip. They bickered and hated each other at times but were also best friends. I have always been fascinated with their dynamic since I didn't grow up with siblings. When you have a sisters, you don't have to make friends. You can just hang out with your pre-fab girl gang and even steal their clothes.

After they got married, they still hung out all the time. They shopped and bought the same things. When I visit them I'll see the same rattan chairs, ceramic napkin holders, or sweaters my mother had. Whether I'm in Newport Beach or Corpus Christi Texas I'll feel at home, even if it's a bizarro version of my house. My aunts resemble my mother too, which makes it even more uncanny. They are all the same, but not quite the same.

We first started clearing out the kitchen. I made them take home the shelf full of Ziploc freezer bags and Glad Tupperware my mom acquired from Costco. I also uncovered a lovely vintage rice cooker with an geometric print, having a hard time letting that go. We spent the rest of the day in the most exciting place, the garage. No woman, especially from my family, can resist the allure of the clothes. Even my uncle walked away with a few Pringle of Scotland cardigans.

I tried to pawn these striped shirts off my aunt because I always see her wearing those things. But she refused."I bought these exact same shirts as your mom! I already have these!"

Later she went into my mom's closet to pick out things she wanted, but immediately broke down in tears. It's not that I don't do that sometimes too. But I've lived with the things for so long they don't have the same visceral impact on me. The shock lessens, as if I'm trying to teach myself to understand they are just things. They don't have to mean everything. 

Aunt Yalee in a sparkly gold Vegas shirt. Great, have something to wear when I hit Aria with my cousins next week! 

All four of us (my three aunts and me) decided to take one of my mom's favorite chain link polyester dresses from Talbots. She happened to have five, two navy and red (size 4 and 6) and one in tan. I'm going to chop mine into a mini dress (red, size 4), and my aunt above (tan, size 6) will wear hers to church. We're also going to have a future photo shoot with the Uniform dress. Each of us took one of those too,

Envelopes from the presidents office, Taiwan, R.O.C. My grandfather was some kind of executive secretary to the prez. Before Grandpa left, he napped all the official stationary so that his future generations could send letters from the president's office. 

Auntie (left) was having trouble fitting into the things she liked. She kept saying, "This is so cute, why am I so fat?" Auntie 2 (right) would reply, "You have to lose so much weight now!" The Chinese are tactful.

"I'm selling belts! Are the police here? I better hide!"

My cousin Patty hit the jackpot in quilted chain strap bags. I figured there was no reason for me to hoard the Chanel-esque bags in every color since my mom left me a real Chanel. The best part of about giving things to family is I can always "borrow" them back, no judgements. And they will store everything for you. I love family!

We spent most of the day reminiscing about my mom. We knew she'd be pissed to see us handling her stuff so abusively, trying it on, wrinkling it, etc, but it was secretly fun to do so.