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I am sitting at my parent's dinning room table in Taiwan, clicking anxiously on my mother's laptop
I am sitting at my parent's dinning room table in Taiwan, clicking anxiously on my mother's laptop
Before I met Beijing, there was another affair I had a brief, bitter-ending engagement with and his name was I believe, Hong Kong. We spent an abusive 18 months together right after New York
Sometimes I get a little personal when I take a stroll through the expansive, razzle-dazzling and star-crusted cosmic jungle that is food-blogosphere. I really don't mean to compare I really don't. Wise man once said that
Naaah, don't have to thank me for this. Glad to do it. Well
Taiwanese like to fancy themselves as major eaters, extraordinaires among the yumness-community. "Taiwanese food is da bomb! Huh-huh-hah-hee!". "Too spicy for who??! Huh-huh-hah-hee (
There's something you need to know before you sit me down with anyone you carry a sensitive relationship with. Your competitor/colleague, boss, lover to impress, ex-lover to instill remorse
Being competitive has never been part of my persona. It isn't one of the virtues of being a quitter, which I like to use as the reason I was never good at sports and why until this very day, I still cannot technically swim (but I float professionally). It's not that I'm not into winning but just that I don't like to be proven losing. I'm a walking cliche. But recently I have been braving the turbulent water for the love of my new favorite website and the recipe contest they throw every two weeks. I entered two contests thus far and both didn't even make it to the final rounds, which theoretically would have put my mind into the same state of a cautious clam who just got firmly tapped on its head. But instead I reached a new understanding about being a loser. The trick to losing is