Further confirmation ET#1 is a middle aged man

I have been balding since college. My ponytail has shrunk. Every night I lament the clump of hair caught by my special hair catcher on my shower drain that I bought so I can count the number of hairs I lose every day. I constantly obsess about my white scalp peeking through. And when I sweep my house, I contemplate super gluing the hairs I find back on my head. My stop gap solution (like any middle aged man) was to grow my hair long and hope that if I wrap my single strand of hair around my head enough times no one would notice.

My mother who was sick of hearing me complain about it, once took me to a Korean herbalist. He told me I had too much yang/heat in my body, and gave me a vile concoction to drink for 2 months. But alas, I am still balding.

My obsession comes with a lot of internet research. A few years ago Matt Lauer turned me onto this device. According to the segment on whatever news show he hosts, this thing was supposed to have okay results. Okay? Well, okay is better than weeping at my shower drain, or having horrible dandruff from the generic female rogaine I tried for 3 months. But here was the catch: $600 price tag. Was my vanity worth $600? Do I buy myself a laser comb before I buy myself a television? What was a girl with OCD to do?

Today as I was purchasing the last of the Christmas gifts for my nieces and nephew, I thought I deserved a bauble of my own. Over the years I had done a lot of internet research and realized that the Hairmax laser comb is just a few red LED lights.

In attempt to be frugal, I searched for other sources of red LED lights. I found a red LED lamp for 20 dollars. Wooohooo! How exciting. Finally, I was going to have luscious locks of hair spilling down my shoulders.

The catch on this endeavour: apparently the lamp I purchased is used to grow more buds on a marijuana plant.

I had images of myself being watched by the FBI a la "the Wire." Maybe they would think a new "player" was in town. Or worse how would I explain to the DEA agents that would breakdown my door, that the supplies I purchased via the internet was to grow hair not pot? I'll tell you all in 1-2 weeks when my lamp is delivered.

Why I love working with foreigners

In the world of science, I am an anomaly. Okay maybe that is not entirely true. I am Asian so physically I blend in really well. But here is how I manage to stick out: I was born in the United States, educated in the United States, and got my Ph.D. in the United States. Oh and English is my first and only language, a rarity in my workplace.

Subjects Americans find taboo are not in other countries, and they are horrified what we manage to say. Sometimes you get fascinating things told to you like today.

Indian Postdoc: So now that if they let the gay people in the military, will they have to create 4 separate bathrooms?

Evil Twin #1: What?

IP: Don't you have separate bathrooms in this country because of sexual modesty?

ET#1: Ummm no. I think it is because men are gross.

IP: Men are gross? no no no no no no. My wife tells me she cannot even go to the bathroom on this floor because it is sooo disgusting. And it is all women, right?

ET#1: Oh she is right, this bathroom is disgusting. But if men were allowed in it would be even worse.

IP: What do you mean? All my friends who are men have very clean bathrooms. Come to my house and you will see how clean our bathroom is. Men's public bathrooms are dirty because men urinate standing. But at home we sit down.

ET#1: huh? What? Most men I know urinate standing up. I know my dad does.

IP: Why would you do that? At home the seat is clean, and you do not have to touch your penis unnecessarily. When you stand up it is so unsanitary. Urine can splash everywhere. When we have male friends spending time at our house, I explain the sitting down, and everyone does it.

The conversation continued for a little bit, but I was blown away at the astute logic. Now I just wonder how many men would follow it....

Another one bites the dust

You get to a certain age, when dating escapades are no longer funny. I think I am at that age. I stopped telling friends and family when I am seeing a new boy because I don't want to tell or explain to them about the inevitable fall out.

So it was unusual when I told every one about the new boy. I had a nice feeling about him. Sure he owns several guns, he hunts, he has cats that I am high allergic too, it took him 6 years to get a communications degree at a liberal arts college I never heard of, he only owns the 5th best bar (ie 2nd tier) in Baltimore according to the Sun, and he smokes a shit ton of weed to clean his house. But besides all of his flaws, I genuinely liked him. He was sweet and brought me dinner because he knew I was always hungry. He called/texted me every night I did not see him, just to say good night. He remembered my love of ye olde people and drove me out to Harpers Ferry to see them. And when he gave me a hug, I did not object nor did I attempt to squirm away. Yup the boy made me all giggles and that is probably a sure tell tale sign that it would crash and burn.

On Saturday, he saw me run my section of the Baltimore Marathon relay. Then we went for a bike ride around Baltimore. We ate epanadas and split 6 of them evenly, 4 for me 2 for him. We saw some swing dancers on the Pier so we joined them for a few songs. We rode up to a Russian festival, and watched all the Russians with fascination. We rode to a helicopter pad (clearly his thing not mine) and watched a bunch of boughie people fly into Baltimore and get into limos. It was pretty fantastic. We went to go get beers, and a little pregaming before the Giants vs. Phillies game.

Here is where the bad news come in:
"Ummm Evil Twin #1, I am going to Key West on Wednesday."

"Oh really. Awesome. You are going to have the best time as long as you don't get stuck in a hurricane."

"I going with this girl I dated right before you. [long dating story but that can be summarized by he never broke up with this girl even though he thinks he did] Anyway we had planned this trip before I even met you. I just wanted to be honest with you because I did not think things would be going so well between the two of us. I mean you are great. [more long dragged on crap about why he might have some problems]"

"Excuse me [I say to the bartender], I am going to need a few shots of whiskey here. Neat and as fast as you can."

After this point much of the night was a blur. Apparently, according to my fave bartender I got belligerent, told every one in the bar that the new boy was going to Key West with another girl, and then proceeded to yell at the TV because I had no idea who Cody Ross was. I, also, allegedly told the boy that I could go home with anyone at the bar and how would he feel about that. Clearly, once again not my finest hour. But if you were going to out you should go out swinging.

On Sunday, I woke up with a massive hangover and ended up going to work, mass, and pumpkin carving with a bunch of inner city youths as a sort of punishment.

He texted me to see if I was alright:

NB: How are you feeling today? You were quite the handful last night.

Me: I had a productive day. Thank you for asking.

I talked to the other wiser Evil Twin, and she convinced me to talk to him while I was sober.

That was a disastrous 1 hour conversation. Let me disseminate the highlights:

He says that I am unreasonable to think he would even consider canceling this trip because plans were made before I met him. What is the big deal about him going, because he was not planning on sleeping with this girl. Why did I lie (on Saturday) about lining up a bunch of dates with better looking guys when he is gone? He should get bonus points for being honest with me because he could have easily lied about the trip. He will call me when he gets back from Florida, because hopefully by then I will be more rational.

I tell him, he is an ass. How does he not realize that this woman think that this is a romantic getaway? Being honest is the minimum you can do for someone not something for a bonus prize. I tell him thanks for exposing me to my biggest insecurity about being cheated on, I much appreciate that. Oh and have a great trip and I am saying this not because I mean it but because there is nothing left to say.

Back to the drawing board for this Evil Twin. Back to the dating and not telling anyone about it, because really it just is not funny anymore.

Naming contest

I'm not sure if anyone reads this blog anymore. I hope so. I need your help. In night of debauchery, I met a boy and he needs a name. Let's skip all the gruesome deatils of a drunken hook-up which led to an awkward morning, which led to some odd texting, which led to a nice walk, which led to a fancy 5 course meal (he made), which led to planning a future date, all in a span of less than 72 hours.

Here is the most important point: what shall I name him? In the past, every boy I have liked has had a CB handle. For example, the astrophysicist (or out of this world), Ozzy fan, the leprechuan, the leader of the pack, the roton, erkel .... How will I disparage this boy in a week, when I start to dislike him?

Rules for naming boys usually get at their deepest insecurieties. Being an Evil Twin, normally, it is quite easy to suss this out. However, I am a little stumped this week. I don't really know much about him but here is what I do know:

Profession - DJ/photographer/bartender
Ethnicity - half-chinese half irish
Overall apearance - nothing remarkable neither cute, nor fat, nor skinny nor tall, nor bald, etc..
Personality - I'm guessing he currently does or at least did smoke a lot of pot. He also, seems to have a lot of artist friends.
Pets - three cats
Ominous fact - he lives across the street from me

We prefer names that are funny, when possible, and mean as a fall back. Winner to get a special Baltimorean prize.