Rules for dating an Asian.

**This post has been written with the express permission of an Asian American and is in no way meant to demean, defame or stereotype Asians or Asian Americans in any way.** …Except the stereotyping part.

Two years yesterday I met Christine. I had only been in town a week or two after accepting a promotion and transfer to North Carolina. I still have no idea how it happened the way it did but I’m glad because, as different as we are in some ways, I’ve come to find that we are (at least for now) two perfectly paired misanthropic souls. However, there were some things I needed to learn.

1. Learn to love rice.
This would seem barely worth mentioning except that I have never had rice made correctly. I actually consider myself, not a “Foodie” (as that tends to hold a negative connotation), at least enthusiastic about food. Still rice has always been more of a perfunctory side or filler for the main course. However, in the hands of a master this starch is transformed into a production with it’s own accoutrement and ceremony afforded a proper ingredient.
-Nah, it’s just fucking rice but get used to it, it’s a part of your life now.

2. Take off your shoes in the house.
I don’t have a problem with is. It’s actually a great idea and I wish I had thought of it sooner. The Texan part of me still loves being barefoot. Also, it saves lots of life on the carpet and is so commonplace that I probably didn’t need to mention it either.

3. Do NOT try to console her over an A minus.
This is not about you. This is not about an unfair teacher. This is not an “at least it’s passing” or even an “at least it’s not a B.” This is about not blowing the curve for the others and being the smartest in class. Let her go to bed early. That way she’ll be well rested to spend the next week studying the same material should the campus burn down and all Finals have to be retaken.

4. DON’T be the Asian fetish guy.
I didn’t actually know this was a thing. My first eye witness account of this was at the pool when a neighbor approached her. It went something like this.
Guy: Where ya from?
C: Kansas.
Guy: No. I mean, where are you from?
C: Kansas, but I’m Korean.
Guy: I love Asians. Check out my Tats.
(At this point, he proceeded to point out the various Japanese and Chinese related images stenciled onto his arm, I assume, while he a ward of the state. There was like a Samurai and a wok or something.)

5. Expect to be judged.
Let’s face it. Most parents have ideas of what types of people they want their children to end up with. With Asians, I’m pretty sure it’s Doctor or Engineer. I’m neither.
Also, there’s that moment when you’re at the local Pho King Good restaurant and you look around, becoming acutely aware you’re the only white guy in there. Even though everyone else is happily using forks, you’re still fumbling with chop sticks because you think it’ll make you fit in. Not really sure who is doing the judging in that one.

6. There is probably a stringed instrument.
This is incredibly sexy. Violin, cello or piano, this stereotype holds up. Hey, we could start a band except I don’t know any Bach and you can’t do “Every rose has it’s thorn.”

7. Feelings are not a topic of conversation.
This is clearly a cultural thing but was rather new to me. You’d think, as a man, this would be a relief. Soon you realize there’s been a power dynamic different from every other person you’ve been with. Now you’re the one who initiates conversations about your relationship. You ask her how she’s feeling. She says “Hungry.”

You make her rice.




I received a phone call last night at exactly 12:07 a.m. from a blocked number. I answered it, like you do and I swear this happened:

“I’m watching you.” click.

I just kind of sat there, staring at my phone. It honestly took me a long time to decipher what they had said. (At first, I thought it was, “I wanna chew you.” but that didn’t make any sense.) I admit to being a little concerned. Anyway, this set me off on a day of pondering and drawing parallels and now I’ve decided that maybe “blocked” is a theme.

Writer’s Block:
I started this blog to be a creative outlet. My mid-June New Year’s resolution was to write at least once a week but really once I got past the first two posts, I’ve had nothing to say. I give complete respect to those of you out there that can sit and write and be entertaining. It’s truly impressive. Feel free to send ideas.

I left a job in management in December. I really wasn’t worried. I think my resume speaks for itself and I’ve never had trouble finding work. I just wanted a change. (Perhaps not the most well thought out plan in my life, I will admit.) Anyway, the point is, I’ve been getting these calls from employment services asking me to send an updated copy of my resume. Good thinking! I really must stop sending the one detailing my experience answering phones as a seventeen year old. Ironically, the best response I got was the one line email I sent that basically said “I want this job.”

Since when is foreplay supposed to involve more than waiting for a commercial to say, “Wanna have sex?” This is an outrage!

I’m sure there are other examples I could draw from but this kind of outlines this feeling of stagnation I have sometimes but that’s it for now.

As a final note, I was telling Christine about this entry and when I got to the part about sex she says, “I’m sorry. Should I stop doing that?”

What Women Want … or Cheesecake: It’s what’s for dinner.


I cannot claim credit for this recipe. It is based on a recipe simply called Perfect Cheesecake, which in turn gives credit to a recipe by Dorie Greenspan.

I can honestly say this is the best cheesecake I have ever had. I have made very few alterations in this recipe, the most notable being that I do not use an electric mixer. Mixing with just a wooden spoon and mixing bowl can be tiring helps to prevents over mixing. I just sat down in front of the TV and took my time with it. I won’t judge anyone who uses a mixer though!



2 cups of Graham cracker crumbs
2 Tbsp sugar
Pinch salt
4 Tbsp Unsalted Butter (melted)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix all crust ingredients together and press into bottom of spring form pan. Bake crust in oven for 10-12 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool while you prepare Filling. Lower over Temperature to 325 degrees.

Once your crust has cooled, you’ll want to wrap the outside of the Spring-form pan in heavy duty tin foil to prevent water leaking into the cheesecake during baking.

Use a large roasting pan to create a water bath. This is simply a pan large enough to all your Cheesecake pan to fit in easily filled with a 1 inch of boiling water or approximately enough to reach about halfway up the outside of your Spring-form pan.


2 Lbs. Cream Cheese (Softened)
1 1/4 Cup Sugar
Pinch of Salt
2 tsp Vanilla
4 Large Eggs
2/3 cup Plain Yogurt
2/3 cup Heavy Whipping Cream
Fresh grated Lemon or Lime Zest (Optional)

In a large mixing bowl combine Cream Cheese, Yogurt, Vanilla and Whipping Cream. Stir until fairly well combined. Stir in sugar and salt. Add the Eggs, one at a time, waiting until the egg is completely mixed in before adding the next. (You may add a bit of the citrus zest at this time and quickly stir.)

Pour the filling into your Spring-form pan on top of prepared crust. Place in oven in the water bath and cook for 1 1/2 hours.

After 1 1/2 hours, turn off the oven and prop open the door about an inch. I find the edge of a wide handled wooden spoon works well for this. Leave Cheesecake in the oven and allow to cool slowly in this fashion for one more hour to prevent cracking. Remove from water bath and refrigerate for at least 6 hours.

Enjoy plain or with your favorite topping.


“Oh, go to Hell!”

So this is my new blog and I’m trying to commit to writing at least once a week. I thought I’d just start light so here goes…

You know the origin of saying “Bless you.” after someone sneezes? Based on the source, this is usually attributed to a belief that when you sneeze:

– Your soul will escape.
– A demon will enter you body.
– Some other variation of the aforementioned resulting in your eternal damnation.


Luckily, some segment of mankind has discovered, no doubt through relentless research and painful trial and error, that we can be saved from our untimely fates. It seems the simple act of literally anyone; regardless of religious beliefs, background or training saying “Bless you.” is enough to eliminate this threat. I don’t know if anyone really believes that any more. These days it’s more of a common courtesy. I just happen to live with a woman who has both terrible allergies and a cat. Which, after the world’s longest setup, brings me to the point.

Christine sneezes.
Me: Bless you.
Christine sneezes.
Me: Bless you.
Christine sneezes.
Me: Oh, go to Hell!

I don’t say it’s original or even remember where I heard it. I just think it’s cute and perfectly sums up our relationship.

Good night.