The Proposal

Ok, so everybody knows, Tim proposed and now I FINALLY have my ring. The way Tim proposed was very well thought out and romantic, and I was really happy about how he did it. However, after listening (ok, it was more like eavesdropping) to his conversation with his mom, where he recounted the details of the big night, I was very disappointed by the story. Girls know that "the proposal" is all about the story, and to listen to Tim tell "the story," one would think that it was a lame proposal. Not only that. During his non-chanlant account of "the story," he purposely omitted several details that prove that I, Kelly, KNEW that he was on to something. So I believe it is important for me to retell the story of our proposal and let the world know that I knew. Throughout the below narrative, you will find the words "I KNEW/SUSPECTED/THOUGHT" inserted into the instances, where I, Kelly Chow, knew/suspected/thought that this was going to happen.

Last week was a tough week. The last three weeks, actually. We have been working on the launch of our client's biggest campaign of the year, so with a short week (due to Thanksgiving) and an important campaign, I found myself very stressed out.

And Tim, of course, didn't help the situation by bugging me about leaving work early on Wed, so we could head out to the Baker cabin for Thanksgiving. He wanted me to leave at 4:30, which I told him was impossible. The little stinker IM'ed me and told me he was stopping by my office. Miraculously, I was able to wrap up my work and get ready to be picked up.

I had told a friend of mine, that I KNEW how Tim would proposed, and to prove my clairvoyant powers, I was going to e-mail her all the details of my future proposal. I never got around to do this because work had been so busy, but I KNEW.

It was right before I left work, that I almost messaged my friend to tell her that I THOUGHT it was going to happen that night.

Tim had told me that we were going to meet up with our friend Brian, so that I could give him a bag that he needed for his trip to Thailand (Brian and his gf were leaving town that night). Tim said we were going to meet him at the market, which made me inquire (because I KNEW): "Why is Brian meeting us at the Pike Place Market?" It seemed to be an odd meeting place, since neither Brian nor his gf lived close to the Market. Tim's response was: "Because he's getting some food there," to which I asked: "Why does he need to get food for Thaliand?," Tim (a bit annoyed): "Because....he wants to get it for the plane, ok?" I decided to drop it. A guy can't know you're smarter than him, but I KNEW. I know Tim wanted to kill me at that point, but since he was going to ask me to marry him, he figured he'd put up with me.

Anyhow, upon arrriving at the market, Tim said we were going to rendezvous with BJ in front of the butcher's. Now, THAT's what I call a highly suspicious meeting place." So I had to ask: "Why at the butcher?" No response. The little wheels in my head started moving, and I was trying to remember if the butcher's was anywhere close to Maximilian's, the French restaurant where Tim and I had one of our first big dates. He had told me a while ago that he would propose at a place that had meaning to us.

We got the the butcher's but no sign of Brian. Suspicions risen again, so I finally said: "Brian is not coming, is HE? What are you up to, Diesel?" (because, that's right, I KNEW).

Diesel confirmed that BJ was not going to show up, but that he had arranged for us to have a cooking class with Willy, the restaurant's chef.

It was a really awesome experience. We went to the kitchen with the chef and he showed us how to make salmon with wine/butter sauce (which as it turns out, was the same meal Tim and I had when we had our date there). We also made green beans and our favorite, foie gras. 45 min into the class and almost done with our meal, Tim excused himself to go to the bathroom. I was helping the chef with the finishing touches, when Tim tapped me on the shoulder and when I turned around, said something to me (which I am not allowed to reveal, he says it's between the two of us), got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. My answer was "OF COURSE" ("yes" is just overrated).

The chef then had us follow him into the restaurant, where we ate the meal we had just cooked. I then saw my brother, then my dad, then my mom. My whole family was there! As it turns out, Tim had invited my family and close friends to a little reception on the second floor of the restaurant. It was lovely, and I'm glad I got to share that special moment with the important people in my life.

After the party died out, we headed up to Baker with our friend Corinne. It would have been a perfect night if it hadn't been for the two emergency stops we had to make, so that I could puke. I am convinced it was the one whole pound of butter that was in the wine sauce. But hey, it tasted good.

Seattle Half Marathon

What possesses people to get up in the crack of dawn, get dressed and spend the next 2-4 hrs running in the rain while the rest of the population lies dormant, enjoying the last day of the Thanksgiving weekend? The Seattle Marathon, of course.

And what in the world possesses me to get up in the crack of dawn and run for the next 2 hrs? A free t-shirt, of course.

Having run the Seattle half 3 times, I have (humbly) appointed myself a Seattle half veteran and do hereby leave behind some advice to those that follow me:

1) WEAR DEODORANT. You are running for a long time and perspiration is only natural. What is NOT natural, however, is a complete disregard for your fellow runners when you decide not to wear any deodorant. You do not want to be preceded or followed by a whiff of foul smell. You might think that with all the runners around you, nobody will know what the source of the stink is, but do not be mistaken: you will be the subject of mean anecdotes and violent derision following the event.

2) HONEYBUCKETS ARE FOR WUSSES. Novices risk making their PR by waiting in long lines for the honeybucket. Novices, watch closely: "Wh...what was that silhouette that just popped out of the bushes? Or..."What was the flash figure that just sprinted out of...(could it be?) somebody's front yard?" That, my friend, were Seattle half veterans. They understand that bushes are convenient, flexible and cleaner than honeybuckets. And besides, it's an enjoyable experience (see my previous blog about the Nike Women's Marathon)

3) People are running, but THEY CAN STILL SMELL (see #1 above), SEE, AND HEAR YOU. I witnessed something in today's marathon that was quite disturbing. A sexagenarian, in a moment of excitement, announced to his friend that he wanted to "have sex right here, right now." PEOPLE, if you're running on the I-90 bridge you are NOT confined to the safe quarters of your own home (and I suspect even in your own home you should not say such things if you're over 60); other runners can very well hear what you're saying, even if they're passing you fast.

I hope you can learn from my experiences. Another advice worth following is ACTUALLY TRAINING for the half. I did this one after not having trained for over a month. Sure I'm proud that I finished it, but am I happy with my time? NO! So now it's back to training for the next one...Vancouver, perhaps?

Mystery Bag

Somebody left a mysterious bag on my kitchen counter. I opened it today, thinking it was something GOOD, but I was in for a very unpleasant surprise.

Somebody left me a bag with an empty yogurt bottle and a pair of underwear.

Sombody left a mystery surprise bag on my kitchen counter, and I don't like it.

Revenge of the Dorks



This weekend Tim and I went to LA for Sara's wedding. Sara is a good friend of Tim's from H.S., and on top of being nice and cute, she apparently was the first non-mormon Homecoming Queen in an almost all-mormon high school.

The wedding was nice and simple. It was in a little Spanish-style courtyard, and the groom, a musician, played the piano and sang for his bride.

After the ceremony, Tim and I found ourselves at an empty 8-person table. For about 30 min we were the only people at the table. To make matters worse, Sara's grandma took pity on us and invited us to sit with the 60+ year-old crowd. We gracefully declined, secretly hoping that at least one other person would sit next to us. After about 40 min, the restaurant contingent showed up. These were the groom's restaurant colleagues. Our table companions were quite the collection of characters. A vegetarian chef named Mijon and a waiter whose claim to fame was his supposed friendship with the guy who supplies pot to Bellingham snowboarders. There was also Brian (or was it Ryan?), a hot videographer who was working on a British reality show.

Anyhow, there was also a girl, let's call her Dirty Bird. Dirty Bird put the moves on Tim as she reminisced about their post-graduation trip to Mexico. She kept asking Tim if he remembered how they all slept in the car together (which is an odd question, because she ended up hooking up with some guy down in Mexico and spent the night somewhere else), and blah, blah, blah. In a shocking moment, she revealed she was actually engaged (and introduced her fiance), all the while flirting with Tim.

After one of the dances, Dirty Bird, who had been eyeing Tim, approached him from the back and caressed it. Now you might be thinking I'm overreacting, but I knew dirty Bird was up to something. Right before we left, Dirty Bird rushed towards Tim, grabbed his hand and took him to the room next door. After about 10 min Tim came back and told me that she insisted on getting his e-mail, and how great his gf was, and blah, blah, blah. What can I say, Dirty Bird was shady.

Tim was flattered, of course, as guys always are. They all need their ego stroked instead of being put in their place, where they deserve to be. Anyhow, apparently Dirty Bird didn't like Tim in H.S. because he was a bit dorky. So imagine Tim's satisfaction to see Dirty Bird again after 10 years, 50 pounds heavier, engaged to a baffoon with a premature receding hairline, having had a kid out of deadlock and desparetly trying to seduce him. That was quite the revenge.

My greatest recent discovery...

While grocery shopping the other day, I stumbled across what could possibly be the best snack food EVER: Cheetos Puffs White Cheddar

As you can see, this is not your regular Cheetos. First off, it does not come in a ghetto bag, but a very elegantly designed package. The puffs do not look like they were color-sprayed at Chernobyl either. Instead, it's all-natural, as the package says.

I bought one bag with the intention of making it last for weeks, months even. However, I couldn't resist and opened it right at the store. After that I just couldn't help myself. I tried hiding it from myself, but my memory is too good, so that didnt' work either.

The bag is now empty, after 2 1/2 days.

To learn more about one of the greatest achievements of mankind, check out the Cheetos website.

I found a kindred spirit

I don't know his name, and honestly, I can't quite remember what he looks like. I don't know anything about him at all, except for the fact that he lives in my building.

So while riding the elevator together, he enthusiastically announced to his friend: "Laguna Beach is on tonight!" I was touched. I felt a connection. I knew I had to say something, especially because his friend's only reply was a disdainful: "You are soooo weird..."

So I said it: "Well, Laguna Beach is actually a great show. " And he smiled at me. I found a kindred spirit indeed.

Vancouver getaway


So this weekend Erica and I "surprised" Tim and Brian and whisked them away for a couple of fun days in Vancouver. "Surprise" in quotes because time after time Erica's and my big mouths ruined yet another little nugget we had carefully planned and vowed to keep it a secret.

First, Erica told the boys to reserve the weekend of the 5th, because we were going to surprise them. Now excuse my ignorance, but doesn't that totally defeat the point of surprising somebody? I can't say much, because a couple of days later I was on the phone with a friend trying to figure out when we could meet. When she mentioned last weekend, I told her I was going to Vancouver with Tim, not realizing that Tim, who was sitting next to me, was rather confused by hearing about plans he was apparently included in, but not aware that he was participating in.

And as if these two big mouth incidents weren't enough to make this a less-than-surprise weekend, I found out that Tim had told Brian that we were going to Vancouver--something I SPECIFICALLYL told him NOT to tell Brian. But who am I to talk anyway?

Anyhow, so we took the train to Vancouver. We passed the time (it is a 4-hour train ride!) drinking mimosas, eating, reading and sleeping. But we foudn out Brian was doing more than that. He was, in fact, eavesdropping on a conversation that two teenage girls who were sitting behind us were having. Apparently, one of them was talking about how she dreamed about losing heir virginity to the sound of "What is love, baby don't hurt me, no more." Under different circumstances, good ol' BJ would have fullfilled this teenage girl's fantasy by giving her a lap dance while singing "what is love" (out of tune, of course). Instead, however, he apparently was quite disconcerted by the racy talk these two high-schoolers were having, even though he recalled the details of this conversation quite vividly and retold them with great excitement.

It was a cool trip because we walked around areas we don't usually go to. We visited several Chinese pharmacies in Chinatown full of displays of flying lizards, shrivelled seahorses, slimy sea cucumbers, etc. Contrary to what you may think, none of this made us lose our appetite and we grabbed lunch in Chinatown, running the risk of having any one of these obscure ingredients added to our meal. Afterwards we walked along Robson street and then went back to the hotel for a quick rest before we got dinner. Erica had brought an extra suitcase which she stuffed with parts of her fondue set, fruit and chocolate. Only thing, she forgot to look up a recipe for making fondue. It turned out quite alright, and we pigged out again.

We went to a tapas place for dinner and ended up at an Irish bar by our hotel.

The next day was nicer, but we were lazier, so we got a late brunch and walked for at least 5 miles to go to MEC, which is a Canadian version of REI. All that walking was worth it because I got me a cheap pair of long underwear!

We had to take the bus back, and when going through customs, Erica, loaded with her plastic supermarket bags, was stopped by customs. The sweet girl tried to tell them that she'd really like to keep the grapes because they were organic and she was really going to eat them. She got away with that, but no way the customs guy was letting her keep her sweep peas.

Halloween 2005: Fright Fest - Part Un

Meet the Sales - Our parents meet for the first time.

The Asian parents meet the white parents.

Things my parents should have never said to Tim's parents:

1) Mom to Tim's mom: "Wow, you're so WHITE! I went to Brazil for only one month and look, I'm so tan."

2) Mom to Tim's mom, who's from the south (as if the above wasn't enough): "Yeah, when I lived in the south, every time I went to town, everybody would look at me and go: 'Look, look at that Chinese girl!' Nobody there had ever seen a Chinese person."

3) My dad to Tim's dad (who was in the military for about 20 years and a pilot Vietnam): "Oh, Vietnam...what a terrible war..."

Halloween 2005: Fright Fest - Part Deux

So for Halloween this year, I decided I was going to get some use out of the pleather pants and bright red wig I got on eBay last year. If you are not aware of last year's tragedy, suffice it to say that despite all our preparation and rallying, Tim and I fell asleep BOTH Halloween weekend nights and missed all of the parties we had planned to go to. So yes, I was going to be Alias (Jennifer Garner) again.

Tim, however, could not recycle last year's costume because it was so...2004. He was going to go as Napoleon Dynamite. But alas, he had much bigger plans for this year: he decided he was going to be a little Japanese schoolgirl.

So Brian (who was also looking for a last-minute costume), Tim and I headed over to Target. Brian ended up getting a kid's size Superman (bodysuit) costume, which was tight on the crotch area and gave him an instant wedgie. He was happy. Tim was going cheap, so he got some plaid boxers that he turned into a plaid skirt. He accessorized with a pink Hello Kitty purse (only 2.99 at Target) and some fuzzy Hello Kitty slippers (only 17.99 at Target)--which to my dismay, he says he will actually wear again when he goes up skiing at the Baker cabin. A whole costume for only 20 bucks; now that's what I call a deal!

I told Tim he should wear a T-shirt where he wrote something in really bad English, but he said that would be racist. Go figure. His whole costume was un-PC anyway. but I suppose even the guy has morals.

Our first stop was Gabe’s party, where we ended up sitting in the backyard by the fire. There was no dancing, even with the keg Gabe got. There was, however, a lot of women in black costumes and very few men. Very strange.

Next we headed over to Tarah’s party. There was a lot more cleavage at that party and a lot of women. We met a guy that was dressed as a Katrina survivor, who was waving a little flag made out of an oversize pair of underwear. I guess he could get away with it because he was, in fact, from New Orleans. I guess it’s like Tim being able to get away with his little Japanese schoolgirl costume only because he has an Asian girlfriend. I must say, however, that I was offended by the several people that acted all skeptical every time I explained to them that NO, the Hello Kitty stuff Tim was wearing was NOT mine. It was HIS.

Anyhow, a couple of hours went by, and I found myself watching the Katrina survivor teaching my pop-uncultured friend words like “bling” and “ghetto-fabulous." I knew it was time to go home.

And so we did. Another Halloween was over.