Instead of feeling excited for the inauguration of President-elect Joe Biden and Vice President-elect Kamala Harris next week, Americans are gripped by fear of domestic terrorism from white supremacists in this country. 

I am not shocked at the fact that these idiots exist, because every BIPOC person has their own personal experiences of having to deal with racial bigots like them. But what's most appalling is the gaslighting BIPOC people have experienced for generations—being told the racism and microaggressions we experience daily are things made up in our heads—when clearly, what happened at the Capitol Building is just one example of what those who are rooted in white supremacy get away with every damn day in America. Those assholes who mobbed the nation's capital last week? I have lived next to them. They've been my teachers and classmates. I have worked with them. I have waited on them. I have felt their hostility at bars and restaurants and other places all over NYC countless times. And to watch January 6's events unfold like that, it's beyond traumatizing. For hundreds of years, the phone call was always coming from inside the house. 

Fuck white supremacy. Black Lives Matter! 

P.S., if you are white, stop telling BIPOC people about your racist relatives because we don't give a shit, and you definitely don't get points for not being racist.

There’s a dire shortage of Purell for racism.

Sometimes, a stranger on the bus or subway can seem so normal until you learn that they’re the type of asshole who puts their shopping bags on the seat next to them as they avoid eye contact with the world by staring down into their phone. These people are the worst.

It's robots, not immigrants, who are taking your jobs.

• It really pisses me off when I go to a restaurant and see a dumbass customer get in the face of the host/hostess because they're mad about not being seated right away since their group is incomplete. It's like, that's not how restaurants in NYC work, you idiot! Just stay home and be rude to your stove instead, jackass.
• When it's muggy, hot, and you don't have your air conditioner installed yet in your apartment, it's when you're sitting in the air-conditioned subway ride home that one realizes what a luxury the cool air on your skin at that moment truly is.
• Reading has been replaced by scrolling.
• I spent all of my childhood avoiding the bathroom at exactly 12am because I was terrified of Bloody Mary appearing in the mirror to kill me. During high school when I slept late, I was sure to always shower or enter the bathroom at 12:05am or after just to be on the safe side.  And now at 35, the memory of living most of my young life like this came flooding back. And I can't remember at what age I stopped fearing the bathroom at the stroke of midnight. All of it just makes me want to have a bloody mary at a bar in celebration.
• The theme song to the podcast "Late Night Whenever with Michelle Buteau" is catchy and has been stuck in my head for hours. And the podcast is super funny, too.
• Button-down shirts buttoned all the way to the collar + tucked into pants = the uniform for the truly uptight.

It was Seoul Gay Pride this past weekend, and I was so happy to go check out the festivities.

When I got off the subway at the City Hall stop, I wasn't sure what to expect. I was elated to see people within the station with pride flags painted on their faces and other visible signs of support for the cause. But I have to be honest in saying that I was also surprised by the number of protesters I saw as soon as I surfaced above ground.

There was a large counter demonstration across the street from where the festival was being held. They also had a huge screen set up to broadcast whoever was speaking on the stage, and that made it both pretty visible and audible from the side where I was standing. At that moment I arrived, there was such anger and vitriol in that specific speaker's voice. I was truly taken aback by it. He was an older gentleman, angrily screaming at the top of his lungs as it echoed everywhere. I could hear the graininess that seemed to come from losing his voice as a result of yelling so loudly. Then on the side of the street where the festival was being held, all I saw was a wall of police officers standing on the sidewalk to keep other protestors from getting too close to passersby as they made their way towards the entrance. I could feel my blood boiling as I had to walk by them and listen to their furious shrieks and protests. They waved their big signs in the air and howled with passion while preaching about how LGBTQ people are less than. They showed so much rage, but everyone who had to endure their hatred did not. Most people simply ignored them or walked by with smiles and excitement for what the day meant.

When I finally made my way into the festival, the vibe was completely different from what was going on outside. There was nothing but love, happiness, and celebration. There were so many people, with a large presence of foreigners as well. Being within the space instantly made me forgot about all the mess that was happening outside, and I happily walked around alone to soak it all in.

The actual parade took place outside of the festival area on a main street of Seoul. And I was fortunate to have perfect timing to witness the entire thing. I can't tell you how moved I was in seeing the thousands of people marching. Young. Old. Straight. LGBT. Korean. Non-Koreans. The diversity in everyone amazed me. All I thought was, where are all these people living and going out to? I didn't realize there was such diversity here, especially among the LGBTQ community. There were way more people actually marching in the parade than watching it as a spectator, which only made me think that people didn't just want to watch it, but they instead wanted to be a part of the movement. Seeing it all almost moved me to tears. It was very emotional and heart-warming. It was parade float after parade float that was filled with swarms of joyful people in between.

Towards the end of the day, the feelings I had from seeing all of the protestors were overcome by the warmth and love I felt from all of the supporters. I have to say that the Seoul Police Department did an excellent job in maintaining order and keeping angry protestors from getting too close to festival goers. I was extremely grateful for that. Overall, it was a memorable Pride. Korean society still has a ways to go in regards to accepting LGBTQ people, but they're definitely on their way there. And the amount of love, support, and LGBTQ allies from the weekend truly did show that.

People who litter bring civilization back hundreds of years.

"But I was, honestly, stunned when you yelled at us from down the block, 'Go back to China!'

I hesitated for a second and then sprinted to confront you. That must have startled you. You pulled out your iPhone in front of the Equinox and threatened to call the cops. It was comical, in retrospect. You might have been charged instead, especially after I walked away and you screamed, 'Go back to your fucking country.'

'I was born in this country!' I yelled back.

It felt silly. But how else to prove I belonged?'"

From the October 9, 2016, New York Times story: An Open Letter to the Woman Who Told My Family to Go Back to China. By Michael Luo.

Of course this sort of shit happened here in New York. As diverse as this city this, these types of ignorant people definitely exist. And growing up here, I've had my fair share of these encounters.

This even just recently happened to my sister and brother-in-law, who live right across the George Washington Bridge in Bergen County, New Jersey. They have a neighbor who harasses people of color in their area. She often screams "Go back to your country!" not only to my brother-in-law, but to neighborhood children who are minorities as well. It's absolutely deplorable.

With different races, ethnicities, religions, and Americans gaining more legal and societal rights in our current times, there will inevitably be those racists who think their own happiness is being negatively affected by it. But another person's growth does not equate to something being stolen from you and your life. There's nothing American about blaming others for your unhappiness.

"The faster we learn to drop our emotional dead weight, the more room we create for something better. I'm talking about everything from stewing about the guy who cut you off in traffic this morning to still refusing to forgive an old friend for an event 20 years ago.

We only have so much bandwidth. We only have so much time. We only have so much energy."

From the August 22, 2016, New York Times article: The Cost of Holding On. By Carl Richards.

I just got to my former college's main campus building to sit and try to get some work done.

With a brown bag of food in one hand, I waited at the front desk in order to be buzzed through as a couple was being tended to in front of me. I'm not sure if they're some student's parents, but they were taking up a lot of time and asking a million questions. That's when the man of the two turned around to look at me before saying to the security guard, "it looks like this guy is here to deliver some food. Why don't you let him in first?"

Some people just have no clue.

Thanks for not wasting another moment of my time though, guy ill-informed.

"And despite her religious reservations, she said she might cater a same-sex wedding if she felt comfortable with the couple."

From the April 4, 2015, New York Times article, Indiana Residents Rue Damage to State's Welcoming Reception, by Richard Fausset.

Comfortable with what exactly? Comfortable with their race? Or religion? Or class? Or what country they were born in? Or hair style? Or waist size? Or if their last name starts with a vowel or syllable? Or their go-to comfort food? Or their favorite sex position? Or if they've ever visited Antartica? Or if they sing in the shower? Or if they eat breakfast food for dinner? Or their pet's name? Or their favorite Céline Dion song? Or whether they thought the dress was white and gold or blue and black? Or their preferred brand of light bulbs?

They're all distractions...

Dear friends,

If you have the time, please check out my latest story for VICE's new food channel MUNCHIES: CHARGING YOUR CELL PHONE AT A RESTAURANT IS RUDE.

Thank you.

A few days ago, I was working my weekend gig waiting tables in Brooklyn. During my shift, there was a table of four customers who casually asked what my name was after I had helped them with something when they first arrived at the restaurant.

Now, when they initially asked for my name, I didn't really think anything of it because they were nice and customers sometimes ask for a variety of reasons. However, what made this group of diners different was that anytime they needed something throughout their meal, instead of getting my attention by locking eye contact, motioning physically somehow or even by saying a simple "excuse me" when I was nearby, I would hear them calling out for me by my first name instead.

As someone who works in the service industry, I have to admit that yes, sometimes it can be nice when customers take the time to learn my name and address me by it. But that's only if they use it once or twice and in a discreet manner. What annoyed me about this group was one particular girl who continually would beckon me by name. After the first handful of times she did it, I got really irritated because I started to feel like I was their personal butler of some sort.

Winter in NYC is officially over, and it feels so invigorating to be able to enjoy the city and just walk around again. This past winter was pretty damn brutal, so not having to step out of the house into frigid and tortuous temperatures anymore is a real treat. I can't even bear to look at my peacoat another day until it gets cold again, and so I therefore happily bid it its long overdue farewell.

And with a new season comes some new changes in life. A little more than a month ago, I started a side weekend gig waiting tables in Williamsburg. I'm still working my regular office job in TriBeCa from Monday-Friday. Not having any days off in the week can be grueling at times, but eh, I'll live. The transition of working this new weekend job has been pretty smooth though, luckily because I'm working with some old coworkers and acquaintances from an East Village restaurant I used to work at years ago. This new restaurant I'm working at is cozy and pretty low-key, which I really like and appreciate. I've also never worked in the neighborhood before, so it's been nice seeing all the locals and folks who chill around the area. For the most part, the majority of customers are friendly and easygoing, but then of course there will always be those certain guests that are just a pain in the ass. I haven't waited tables since I was working at a restaurant in Venice Beach last year, but it really is like riding a bike. The unfamiliar newness of any job can be daunting, but having been able to get used to things in the past month has helped me finally find my own rhythm and pace of work. And then of course I can remember all my old methods on how to deal with specific types of annoying customers. Most of the restaurant's diners are really nice though, so striving to provide them with good efficient service and a quality experience is something that I'm more than happy to do. In a weird way, I usually have moments where waiting tables can feel extremely fulfilling when I know people leave the restaurant feeling merry and satisfied after having an awesome time. However, if I never in my life had to explain gluten-free options from a menu again or bust my ass for some dickhead who will just always be an asshole when they dine out, well I wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

Something else that I'm really excited about right now is that in a few weeks, my friend Junho and I will be moving into a new apartment together! Since returning to NYC last July, I've basically been couch surfing and living in somewhat unconventional living arrangements. That's why I'm beyond happy to finally have a place to call home, and have those simple things like a bed and my own room. Our new apartment is downtown in the Financial District and close to City Hall and the Brooklyn Bridge. I've never lived in that area before, so getting to know the neighborhood really well is going to be great. And one of the best parts of the new apartment will be the fact that I can walk to work within 10 minutes.

Alright, well it's passed 2am and I've got work tomorrow morning. The adrenaline from working a shift earlier tonight is slowly waning, and it's probably time that I try and hit the sack.

Good night, and happy Monday to you all.

"Enough about you,
Let's talk about life for a while."

From the song All I Really Want by Alanis Morissette. 

Isn't arrogance just masked insecurity?

I can't stand these types of fools.

What a herb...

It's funny when people who have no idea about what the fuck they're talking about act like they do.

Some people's version of reality is so deluded and over dramatic---you really just can't trust idiots like them at all.