Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Peanut Butter Jelly Time!
My goodness. I'm feeling good today! I'm not sure why. Could the single serve cup of coffee I made in my hotel room early this morning possibly fix the terrible lack of sleep overnight, despite my somewhat intolerance to caffeine, and actually made my day better? That is debatable.
And at work I took over an hour this morning to experiment with my client's two Power5 servers, and from my observations deciphered the reasoning behind an odd behavior which has trumped the I B M support team for a couple days now. It is still a preliminary conclusion waiting for confirmation, but still, that really pumped me up a little. Progress is always a good sign.
And then I got a call today from a freight company wanting to schedule the delivery of my brand spanking new 46 inch Sharp LCD television set. May I dare say, pant wetting experience?!? Now I can plan on having a Super Bowl Sunday fest at my place!
Finally, I decided to check my I B M discount site for Sharp, and I found out that the newly released said television set has its price lowered even more since my preorder. A quick call to Sharp lasted not long. A girl named CJ, aka Christmas Jones, cheerfully told me that it would not be a problem to make a price adjustment and credit back a few hundred bucks to my credit card. Including a little flirting over the phone, the call lasted less than five minutes. Now that is what I call perfect customer service experience!
Except now I'm left wondering what she looks like in person.
But anyway, my spirit is high today. I feel real good right now. And I am even more excited with anticipation of a trip two blocks away to Panera Bread to have lunch. But because I could hardly fit into my pair of dress slacks this Monday morning, I am thinking a kid's meal would be an excellent fit.
Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich on a whole sourdough bread. Yum! And my mind has long since been dreaming of the Ying Yang Twins... It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!!!
Dear (stone) God Almighty!!!
As a young adult since entering college, I have become one of those people easily fascinated by the facts of life (everything, not just the birds and the bees, mind you). Somehow I've turned into someone who likes to know as much as possible about everything. How do car engines work? How does the third rail provide electrical energy to the subway? And those standard run of the mill for high school text book explanations don't cut it for me. I want intimate details, damn it!
Like for example, I was told once that cough medicine basically stops you from coughing. But I wanted to know more, so I pressed Dr. Patel. He finally explained that it has a specific chemical that makes your body stop coughing. And yet I demanded more, to which I finally got satisfied: It has specially formulated narcotics, especially in prescription cough medicine, that shuts down a part of your brain so it doesn't react to trickles or mild sensations in your lungs, which in turn stops you from coughing. It was so not what I was expecting, but it totally satiated my thirst for knowledge.
While in high school, I knew a girl named Nadia. She always told me whenever her dad was having kidney stones. And then there was Kristi, a friend in Iowa. She has chronic kidney stones since a child. But when she told me about her condition during an episode about a year and a half ago, somehow it didn't prompt me to read up on it.
Till today.
You see, I have this habit of mine that I enjoy reading This Fish's blog right before hitting the sack every night. And she recently blogged about getting stoned. And of course, curiosity got the better of me. I knew it was already inching close to midnight, yet my fingers somehow led me to WebMD, my TOTALLY favorite reference site for all things medical.
While reading a topic overview of Kidney Stones article, this statement struck me as odd: "When a stone travels through a ureter {the tubes that connect your kidneys to the bladder}, it may cause no pain. Or it may cause great pain and other symptoms." Uh, what the hell? That's like saying, when you get punched by Mike Tyson, it either hurts or it doesn't. What kind of a medical statement is that?
And then a little bit later, I looked at some pictures. Dear God almighty!!! There was a picture of an actual kidney stone! It did not look like a stone at all; rather, it had multiple sharp edges, about one-eight of an inch long! And a subsequent picture demonstrated how a kidney stone is stuck in the ureter! Holy... Shit... Of all shits!!!
Then the next article I read, Kidney Stones in Adults was both interesting and pain-inducing. Basically, after a kidney stone has developed and entered the ureter from the kidney, blood may be present in your urine as it scrapes!!! along the walls of the urinary tract! Furthermore, this just prompts your muscles along the tract to micro spasm to push it along!
Jesus Christ! If it hurts to go through the ureter, I'd hate to see how painful it is to have a kidney stone {more like a jagged shard of crystal} pass through the urethra as it is being emptied from the bladder!
And the fact that did me in? Sometimes the doctor might ask you to "catch (the kidney stone) in a cup or tea strainer" for testing! Wha wha what?!? Not only was it mind boggling to ask someone peeing in excruciating pain while holding a tea strainer steadily so you don't miss the stone, but it totally made me realize that the next time I go visit my friend Kristi in Iowa, I'll be sure to politely turn down her any cup of tea! Lest it be instant tea in a tea bag.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Damn Grammar!
Okay... If a girl friend, one who is of the female gender and not of dating type, told you that she had her itch scratched when she had sex over the weekend but "not on that night or guy," is it safe to assume that she meant she did not roll around in the hay on "that night," as well as that she did not do the deed with a guy?
At first I got real excited thinking that not only had she scratched the itch over the weekend, but it was a girl on girl action! What an instant turn on when I read the email. But then, damn it! My knowledge of grammar had to prevail in the end.
The lack of a comma after her "that night" preceding "or guy" clearly indicated that she meant not the guy from that night, according to the rules of grammar. So there went a shattered day dream in an otherwise dull drum day. And I was so ready to imagine what kind of a girl my hot friend was doing the deed with. Sigh...
Monday, November 27, 2006
Winter Wonderland
Today was a day like no other. I woke up early. Real early. 07:08, in fact. I had a traditional Chinese breakfast: Porridge with veggies, a fried egg, and the fixin's. I took my time, not knowing if I get to stay or leave Chicago.
A call came. It went almost like this: Your mission, should you accept it, is to leave for Cleveland as soon as possible and complete the project you started last month. Sigh. I kept on bugging this client to schedule the final trip to conclude the work, and all I got was static. Till this morning, of course.
A quick shower ensued, followed by jumping into my car with destination Midway in mind. A last minute flight plan for 10:25, and I was just leaving my garage at 09:17. The garage door pulled open, and some dumb ass just pulled into the driveway of my condo's garage. He shut off his engine and got out of his car right in front of my very own eyes. And there was another car needing to leave behind me too. I honked, and this guy gave me the index finger, telling me to wait a second.
Mind you, the sidewalk was completely open with no parked cars, and he totally ignored me. He took six minutes to do his thing and remove his car. A few choice words were dished out, something like, "What was that for? Why couldn't you just use the sidewalk? Are you stupid or something?"
But unlike other times similar to this, I drove like I had three hours of time. I slowly navigated my way through Lake Shore Drive, and moseyed my way down interstate 55. I parked my car, and muttered, "Damn" as I realized I forgot to pack something.
Time? 10:04. But somehow, instead of dashing for the security line, I walked. And when I got to the security checkpoint, I caught myself whistling to the tune of Winter Wonderland while removing my shoes! Nearby passengers just stared at me with obvious contortions on their face that screamed, "What the hell is he so happy about?"
Mysteriously, I made it to my gate, despite my unwillingness to run and break a sweat. I guessed I really have to go to work today. That is what happens after taking 11 straight days off.
So yeah, here I am in Cleveland, where the weather is just as warm as Chicago. Dinner was simple: a Spicy Italian sandwich from Subway. The television is on. I'm rooting for the Seahawks to trample the Packers. I see Brett Favre in a familiar field of white. The game must be in Wisconsin. But wait; wasn't it really warm when I left Chicago? I guess Seattle is experiencing a true winter wonderland tonight!
Yes indeedy. Today is definitely a day unlike any other.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
PMS Survival Tips
My supposed fear of commitment... ?!?
Friends have always claimed, or nearly made the accusation, that I'm way too picky when it comes to girls. My girl friends keep on telling me to such extent, "There are no such things as perfect girls. You'll never find what you're looking for. Stop being so picky."
But do they really know me? I know I have an ideal woman in my mind, but I've fallen hard in the past for those far removed from that ideal I had imagined. I'm not a fan of curly haired women, but Kenzie had beautiful, curly hair. I'm afraid of Catholic women because of the possible clashes in ideology, yet I've pursued and fell in love with a couple Catholics in the past. I've always thought that I like my women younger than me, yet I've almost always dated women older than me.
So really... Am I really picky? I think not. I have been told during moments of confiding that even if the sparks and lovey dovey feeling weren't there initially, that I should give them multiple chances and go out with them more. But when certain attributes that I see as character flaws surface, it is hard to ignore. Such as inconsiderateness, rudeness, quick to pass judgment, acting better than others and the likes. I could care less about disagreeing on gun control, pro life or choice, Republican or Democrat; but I care a lot about the heart and soul more. Much more so. I've dated and dumped many girls others thought were great, but to me were just ugly inside. Heck, I've even stopped hanging out with friends who I thought were ugly inside.
And of course, occasionally I would be accused of harboring fears of commitment. Seriously? That I don't know how to defend myself on. Don't get me wrong. I want a great girl. I want to have kids. I want to be a loving husband and a great father. But will any random girl do? Probably not. I don't think it is fear of commitment.
If I want to stretch my imagination and attempt to come to terms with my friends' opinions, this is the only closest thing I can offer up. I've thought this through and through. I've had girl friends I've known a long time tell me that I'm a flirt. And I've had girl friends I've just gotten to know tell me that I'm a flirt. But I just don't see it. And I simply don't believe it. I'm nice and friendly. I like to interact with people socially. Flirting? Nah.
But then, I have been getting this from so many people so many times. And it is time for me to analyze myself. Has this been the root cause for some girls I've dated to think that I'm the cheating kind of person, thus scaring them away? I've been cheated on once before. And it sucks. And it is the most painful thing in the world, as far as relationships go. And the fact that I have never cheated on a girl should prove that I'm a straight shooter. Right?
But why am I starting to doubt that recently? A friend once told me, "You can't really claim that you will never do something until you are faced with the predicament. You can't predict what decision you will choose." And then there are trashy magazines such as Cosmopolitan that claimed that as many as 50 percent of women and 70 percent of men cheat on their spouse. But even the more scientific and believable survey done by the University of Chicago's National Opinion Research Center isn't of much comfort: 15 percent of women and 22 percent of men have had sex with someone besides their spouse while married.
Given such prevalence of infidelity in society, and the many psychiatrists and family therapists all over claiming that humans are genetically wired to cheat, it sure is not helping.
My theory on why I can't commit to a long term relationship? Aside from the girls of my dreams breaking up with me, or rather plain ol' disappearing into thin air, the closest explanation to my friends' argument that I can offer is as such.
If many people think I'm a natural flirt, which I still deny, then it is quite possible that subconsciously I am afraid that I might cheat. But more importantly, it is fathomable that I might be afraid of being cheated on, and that is something I cannot deal with, after my own experience and the experience of someone close to the family had gone through.
But truthfully? I don't know why I have not been in a seriously committed relationship in a while. It may be that my friends' and my explanations are all a bunch of bull crap, and that it simply may be that the right girl hasn't come along yet. Simple as that. Even if a girl who is right for me, but to whom I'm not right for, is easily not the right girl for me. Maybe we all over-analyze things a bit.
I'm not jealous. Really. I'm not.
An interesting Saturday it has been, that's for sure. I think I am liking my new curtains I have since put up some days ago. Because since then, it appears that my insomnia has been somewhat cured as I have been waking up past noon lately. And today? I woke up at 13:30.
Yeah, holy shit was my thought too!
I put on some Def Leppard tunes pumping through my entertainment system, jumped in the shower, got cleaned and dressed up. The plan was to break out my ice skates for the first time this season. For I was going ice skating at the Millennium Park! You can only imagine how hard it was to contain the excitement in me, much like a kid being brought to Toys R Us for that one toy a year ritual.
I met up with a couple friends, and had a blast in the rink. Instead of a short engagement, the afternoon turned into a long, fun-filled evening. We went to have pizza and beer in the Loop. I think we may have had one or two drinks too much, because in the midst of a crowded restaurant filled with families and kids, our convos turned south rather quickly. The debates? Why is it that women are expected to shave down there, but damn near impossible to have the guy keep it trimmed. Or that men can be superficial because before the commitment, they can judge a woman by the size of their boobs and things, while women are stuck because they can't really know the size of the package down there till too late.
Let me assure you this. As a man, I lost the debates easily to the overpowering female friends at the table. Much to the multiple stares from parents in different nearby tables. And for the record, I'm one of the few men out there who voluntarily keep in trimmed, albeit the lack of any kind of audience of late.
Next, an impromptu trip to the movie theatre ensued. The Prestige was one strange movie. I was confused as all hell, and had to have the girls explain things to me. Oh. Okay... Still a weird movie after understanding the whole cloning bit. Afterwards, while walking away from the theatre, one of us broke off and said, "I'll see you guys later! A friend is giving me a ride home."
Huh? It was past midnight, and she lived near me. And she didn't offer a ride to me. The whole evening she kept on getting calls from this mysterious person, who kept on asking where she was. The dinner was unplanned. The movie was unplanned. She had to keep on explaining where she was each time.
Our conclusion? She was getting a little somethin' somethin'. A booty call. Good for her! And it got me thinking. Why do I almost always turn down such arrangements when offered in the past? I haven't dated a girl in a while. And I sure had been tempted many times to call a friend who I knew would be more than happy to oblige, but I always chickened out. Why is that? Has all that Puritanical upbringing and attempted brainwashing made a difference in my judgment?
I was a little bit jealous. But while riding on the subway home, I kept on thinking about it. The ethics, social dynamics, et cetera behind such things. Friends with benefits. I have gone down that path once before, and nothing good came of it (for me at least). Then I decided, I'm not really jealous of her. Really.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Tennessee Lamb
Thanksgiving came. And Thanksgiving went. Another year has passed. God, it felt like it all went so fast. It has been almost a year since I last met and fell for a girl named Kenzie. And that felt as it was just last month. Time really does seem to fly.
As I continued my annual tradition of having important and special friends over for dinner since moving to Chicago, I was mostly quiet the whole evening. After laboring for hours cooking that special meal, I just sat there at the dinner table and took everything in. The loud and boisterous chatter and laughter at the table; the sight of my guests enjoying the delectable meal I cooked; were all a great sight to absorb in. A smile on my face, and the thought of having known such people in my life, just made me more than satisfied. I don't know what word I would use to describe such feeling, but you know what I meant.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly disappointed though. The absence of another individual was somewhat disappointing, for it basically reaffirmed all of my friends' "I told you so." Furthermore, this is the first time in so many years that I celebrated Thanksgiving without Cesar and Sabine, for they have moved to France after making their years-long matrimony official. This after having celebrated Thanksgiving together for five years straight, even starting before I officially moved to Chicago. Thanksgiving was simply not the same without those two.
Don't get me wrong. I wasn't down or anything. I was really happy. And excited. Because of my surgery last week, I was instructed not to do anything strenuous, such as lifting anything heavy or doing any activity that would temporarily raise my blood pressure. So that gave me an excuse to not cook a turkey, as such would involve lifting a 12 pound carcass of a bird with possibly another pound or so of juice and stuffing out of the oven. I have never been a fan of turkey anyway. Or chicken for that matter. So that was good. Besides, with so many Thanksgiving dinners I had, I was glad to not eat turkey for a night in over two weeks.
So Thanksgiving at my place was a night of firsts. First without my beloved Cesar and Sabine. First in cooking Chinese food for Thanksgiving. And definitely a first in cooking four dishes simultaneously. The most previously? Three. And sorry, I don't consider American cooking cooking with skills. You can't possibly consider putting a bunch of ingredients in a casserole pan and stufging it in the oven "cooking." That is why I think it super easy to make a "traditional" Thanksgiving dinner: Put all ingredients into a casserole pan for the green bean casserole, sweet potato pie, scalloped potatoes, and the bird, followed by strategically placing all dishes in the oven, and wait. Anybody can do that. Seriously.
My challenge? Not only to cook four dishes, but to cook double portions of each, and to prepare two new dishes I have never attempted to cook before. Sweet baby Lord Jesus! It was no easy task. I will admit that the black bean chicken was somewhat easy, but that orange tilapia was a bit harder than I was ever accustomed to.
Suffice to say, the chicken came out a little bit overcooked. It was certainly hard to keep track of four woks. But I did it. I did it! My guests enjoyed the food. Everybody had two servings, and they all polished off everything I made. If there was ever one culinary gesture that would make a chef's day, that was it. Of course, the four bottles of wine may have helped. But I'm taking credit anyway.
Prelude to my food coma, I drifted away in thought while a jovial conversation carried on. I thought, my God, it was not that long ago when I realized how dorky it was for me to date my first check in 2006 with a 2005. Then Kenzie. I secretly looked over my shoulder at my secret picture frame on the wall behind me. Then what a wild ride of a year it has been. A new career move. A fast track of proven record at IBM in such a short time. And a trust won and lost of the same person, and subsequent realization of my own foolish {and stubborn} self. And my parents visiting Chicago for the first time ever. In all that rollercoaster of a ride, one thing remained constant: Albeit a few new faces at the table, there were mostly the same faces that have been there with me through thick and thin.
And that, my friends, is what I'm most thankful of in 2006. Now I'll just continue with my list of firsts. I'm thinking about getting my first ever Christmas tree. Also rebalancing my work life scale so that I can refocus on getting my own Tennessee Lamb. How exciting!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
My secret addiction
When I first moved to Chicago over two years ago, the first Chicago girl I ever dated was Zina. No, no relationship to the Warrior Princess. On one of our earlier dates, we went to Schaumburg to eat sushi at Todai and shop at Ikea. Zina only wanted to window shop for a dining table and chairs.
Instead of spending just an hour there, we ended up staying for over three hours. Much longer than anticipated. Or at least for her. And the total time it took to go over things that she was interested in? A full half hour at the most. The rest of the time was spent on me shopping around.
Granted, I left the store without a single purchase, but I love that place. I was all into it and Zina practically had to drag me out. On the ride home, she mentioned, "Wow, I didn't know you love to shop! You'll be great to go shopping with!" To this day, I still don't know if she said it with tongue in cheek with reverse psychology as I was wasting her time, or she really meant it as a compliment as in I would be her perfect shopping buddy. But it doesn't really matter now anyway.
So on Monday I left at 15:30 for Ikea. Second trip in less than a week's time, no less. I really didn't need a whole lot of things, as my absolute needs amounted to three items. Now mind you, Ikea is just three floors tall. Yet somehow, I was shocked and rushed when an announcement came on: "Attention Ikea visitors. The Ikea store will be closed in fifteen minutes." What?!? It was 20:45 already! And my shopping cart only had two of the three items I needed.
Seriously, I felt like Ikea is my personal nirvana that can set my imagination free and wild. I would study different things Ikea had to offer and imagine what it would be like to decorate my place so and so in my mind. Or imagining things I would have designed and created since the supposed Swedish geniuses didn't have already done so. Granted, my condominium is merely 750 square feet! Unfortunately, imagination has its limits: The amount of cold, hard, liquidable cash floating in my bank account and a mortgage to deal with.
So yeah, my dirty little secret is that I heart shopping. And don't get me started on my other love affair with the Container Store.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Cultural Learnings of Asian Americans for Make Benefit Normal People
Asians can be extremely segregative. They are not vocal about it, and can be very tongue in cheek-ish about their attitude. They have a label for Asians like me: Banana or Twinkie. Take your pick.
For the sake of curiosity’s sake, I looked up Urban Dictionary for some entries related to the Asian American culture. After much research and according to the most popular definition in the entry, I am the following: a twinkie or a banana, Asian-American, and half fobulous. I am not: Yap, Fob, super Fob, Fobabee, Gangsta Fob, Tab, Hoochie Tab, Rice-Boy, or Pob.
Not sure what each means? Let me copy and paste Rebecca’s submitted entry to the legendary Urban Dictionary for you. This is quite funny; Asians compartmentalized and categorized.
Twinkie
- Besides your nationality, there is little to distinguish you from white people
- Your significant other is not Asian and never has been
- You have few Asian friends, if any
- You are embarrassed at family events because you cannot speak your language and everyone has to switch to English to communicate with you
- You have no idea that the other types of Asians on this list even exist
- You think Hello Kitty is dumb and do not know what Sanrio is
- You are the only Asian on this list that does not know what Bubble Tea is
- You drive a Ford or some other domestic car and if you drive a Honda, it is stock
Asian-American
- You claim yourself as Asian, but real Asians think you're whitewashed and non-Asians see you as a foreigner. You fit in nowhere
- You have heard of Bubble Tea but have never actually had any
- You are confused about your cultural identity and express this frustration through spoken word performances at your college
- You read A. magazine and think it's great
- You do not know who Leon, Aaron, Sammi, Hikki, or Kangta are
- You are only vaguely aware of the other Asians below
Yap (Young Asian Professional)
- You are in one of these professions:
a) Medicine / Pharmaceutical
b) Engineering
c) Finance
d) Investment Banking
e) Accounting
- Most of your wardrobe was purchased at Banana Republic
- You go to "mixers" on Thursday nights to meet other Yaps and talk about the Dow Jones.
- You did exactly what your parents wanted you to do and as a result, your life is hella boring
- Your apartment/home is decorated almost exclusively with stuff from Pier 1
- Your parents always talk to their friends about how much money you make. If they don't, then you're a dissapointment
Fob (Fresh Off tha Boat)
- You were not born in America
- You know who Leon, Aaron, Sammi, Hikki, and Kangta are. In fact, you have seen them at Atlantic City or Las Vegas recently
- You speak your native language fluently and so do all your friends
- You do not have any non-Asian friends
- Your parents do not speak any English
- When you speak English, you like to make everything plural
- You get extremely good grades in school
- You cannot dance
- Your fashion sense comes from whatever country you're from and you incorporate nothing from American fashion into your wardrobe
SuperFob
- Your command of the English language is minimal and you don't care
- You like dim sum chicken feet
- You do not own a single CD, VCD, Video game, or DVD that isn't bootlegged
- Your only hangout is Chinatown
- All the lights in your house are fluorescent
- You dry your cloths outside your window
- You need a haircut
- You either smell like cigarettes or food
Fobabee
- You are an Asian-American or Twinkie who has recently "awoken"
- You have a newly found fetish of Asian girls/boys
- You have taken the Asian Studies course at college
- You are trying to learn as much as possible about your culture to make up for your lifetime of trying to be white (Twinkie ; Banana) or Black (Chigger ; Tea egg)
- If you are lucky, you will grow to become Fobulous
Gangsta Fob (Fobsta)
- You have shot another Asian
- Your favorite hangout is a pool hall
- When you talk, you sound like a cross between a Fob and an urban black kid
- Your hair looks silly, but no one will tell you because you'll shoot them
- You have a serious gambling problem
- You are a Rice-boy, but your mods are cheap and are never painted to match the rest of your car
- No one tells you your rice ride looks cheap because you'll shoot them
- You want to have a Tab girlfriend, but can only get Hoochie Tabs
Tab (Trendy Asian B*tch)
- You shop at A/X, Bebe and Club Monaco
- You only wear black and will occasionally wear white to "mix it up"
- You do not weigh more than 105 lbs
- You have never paid for dinner at a restaurant in your life
- Platform heels are your favorite
- You are a makeup expert, in fact, you appear completely flawless
- You do not smile in public
- You are the object of desire of all Asian men and you know it
- You smoke
- Your cell phone is completely customized
- On the inside flip of your cell phone is a sticker pic of you and your man
- Somewhere in your purse is a Sanrio item
- You only date Asian and will only date a boy with a nice car
- You are often seen with Rice-boys
- You never travel alone. You are either in the company of other Tabs or your Rice-boy boyfriend
Hoochie Tab
- You are an import car model
- Your boobs are not real
- There are naked pictures of you floating around on the internet somewhere
- Stiletto heels are your favorite
- Your role models are Francine Dee and Kaila Yu
- Your boyfriend is a Gangsta Fob
- You cheat on your boyfriend
- Unlike most Asians, you do not do well in school
Rice-Boy
- You drive an Asian import. Usually a Honda or Acura
- Your souped up car (known as a Rice-ride or Rice-rocket) is unrecognizable from it's original stock form
- Your exhaust pipe is big enough for your head to fit in
- The spoiler on your car looks like it was made by Boeing
- The interior of your car also looks like it was designed by Boeing
- You always drive like you are racing someone
- You are not afraid of dying in a crash, but you are afraid of speed bumps and parking lot on-ramps
- The only other person besides yourself who can sit in your car is your 105 lbs Tab girlfriend. If anyone else sits in your car, the entire bottom of it will be touching the ground
- Even though your car is a Honda, it goes faster and is worth more than a Lotus Esprit
- If you drive a Civic, your dream car is a Supra. If you drive a Supra, your dream car is a Skyline (which you can never have). Poor Rice-boy.
Fobulous
- You speak perfect English and you are fluent in your native language
- You have Asian friends as well as non-Asian friends
- You listen to Asian pop as well as American music
- You are equally aware of both popular American culture and Asian pop culture
- You are a good dancer
- You date Asian by choice even though you could rock the opposite sex of any other race
- You are a good designer and have superior Html skills
- You have an Apt107 page AND an AA page and the guest books in both are packed
- For you, FOB stands for Fabulous Oriental Being
- You have lots of Asian pride
Pob
- A Filipino fob.
- Words that start with F tend to be pronounced with a P. (Fuck you..Pobarized version: PUCK you)
- FUll accent
"Lets go take some sticker pickiez la! xD Kekezzz"
"Puck you mother pucker!"
Not feeling so magnificent after all...
Chicago is full of traditions, especially when winter is bestowed upon us. The icy, prickly winds pick up; ice skating in Millennium Park; Christkindlmarket, a traditional German American holiday market; Tree Lighting Ceremony; and let's not forget, the Magnificent Mile Lights Festival the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Ah, let the holiday cheers begin. Let's hear the Salvation Army bells ringing. Let the good feelings flow. Or did it?
So this past Saturday was the Lights Festival, and I went with a friend. It was great, and like any type of festival that is held on a major street in any downtown, the sidewalks along Michigan Avenue were packed with people. Thinking about going up or down the sidewalk? Forget about it. Any kind of movement was near impossible, unless you consider spending over half an hour inching up a block "movement."
Anyway, I tried to get to the Grand Lux Café from where we were standing to put our names in, thinking that by the time Mickey Mouse did the countdown and the lights lining up Michigan Avenue came on, we wouldn't have to wait long to get a table. So off I went.
I should have used my brain and went up Rush Street instead of Michigan Avenue. But once I was in the mass of crowds, it was too late. And this was where it got ugly. What occurred next made me realize that we humans, as civilized as we are today where we are, are still a bunch of moronic animals with no common sense.
So we were moving along at about an inch a minute, right? There were kids everywhere with their families, strollers, and the likes. After all, it was a family holiday affair. Can't blame them there. Then this black* person was screaming from behind, yelling, "Get out of my way. I need to go up there." I politely turned around and said, "We're all trying to move too." Then another person, a dad of two, who was directly in front of this black guy, added, "Yelling and shoving isn't going to make matters better."
The black guy then claimed that he was the police. Said dad of two just rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever." Of course, the black guy wasn't amused by such blow-off, so he started threatening, "You better watch your mouth, because I will arrest you on the spot!" He proceeded to pull out his wallet and unfolded it so others could see, before beginning to shove people aside strongly and pushing his way through. When he passed by me, I looked at his wallet, and it only had an Illinois driver's license and a library card. Police my ass!
And then there was this group of cute college girls. These freshmen were acting all high school-ish, where everything they said ended with an upward inflection as if they were asking a question. But they were seriously annoyed by the crowd, so thinking that they were the glamorous princesses that they were, they started shoving too. I stared at the leader, and said to her face, "Can you not see the stroller you're pushing against?" The mom was trying as hard as she could to prevent the stroller and her baby from tipping over. The princess looked at me, said nothing, and proceeded to do her thing and go past others. I wanted to call her Bitch real bad, but with the kids all around, I didn't think it was appropriate.
And then there was this really annoying woman who was with a friend. She's got this annoying, raspy voice, and she would not stop screaming. She would yell at the top of her lungs, saying things such as "We've got someone who is sick here. We need to get through!" Repeatedly, and shoving people. But each time I look back, she was just laughing with her friend. Like the other assholes, she shoved her way past me, with her "sick" friend in tow.
Then there were these two cute Chinese girls. Somehow, all the shovers and pushers always managed to get behind and past me. But the crowd started getting violent. People pushed, much like a freaking mosh pit! I could feel the Chinese girls pushing me, so I stared at them. One of them said, "We're not pushing. It was the others!" Innocent enough, right? So I ignored them. Then I heard one tell the other in Mandarin, "Just go to his right, push him aside, and just go. This is crazy." And the push began.
To which I turned around and looked at them again. "Sorry, it was the others who pushed," with innocent looking puppy eyes. Then I said in Mandarin, "Why do you have to do stupid things like that? Just walk slowly together and we will get there." They had ghastly, shocked faces. Needless to say, these girls stayed behind me the entire time. And not a squeak from them either. Strangely though, a lot of times people assumed I'm Chinese, but I don't know why these two FOB's didn't realize I am American Chinese.
But what really saddened me the most was this one particular incident. There was this short little woman with her daughter in tow, shoving people around. And she was not discreet about it. She actually pulled people apart and pushed her way through. She was determined. Her daughter, probably in the early teens, was not particularly enjoying the crowd or her mom's behavior. They were to my right. Marlee pleaded with her mom, "Mom, let's just take our time. I'm not that hungry anyway!"
The mom, in full rage and frustration, kept on pulling at Marlee, for she had gone past me, but Marlee was still behind me. Marlee let go of her mom's hand, and said sternly, "Mom, it's not going to be better. Let's just go with the flow."
And here's the shocker:
"Fine! I'll just leave you here!" Mom just took off and shoved people and disappeared into the crowd ahead of us. I could not believe what I had just witnessed! A mother just left her daughter in a crowded mass of strangers! Marlee started weeping. I stayed quiet for a few minutes, thinking I shouldn't get involved with a family affair, no matter how egregious it was. I kept on scanning the crowd ahead, looking for a sign of the mother to return. Minutes went by. Nope.
I reached over and put my arm around Marlee and started comforting her. Her sobs became audible cries. A couple to my left looked at me and asked if we were together. I said, "No," as gently as possible. I held her hand, and told her that things will be okay, and that I would make sure that no one would hurt her. Each time she got scared and started crying, I tried to calm her down by asking tidbits about her, like her name, where she was from, etc.
I got really disheartened when Marlee finally revealed that it was just the two of them vacationing here in Chicago from Colorado. Sweet baby lord Jesus!!! I seriously thought about reporting this woman to the DCFS! By now, it had been a half hour since her mom ditched her. After I had calmed her down and got her in better mood with my stupid jokes and jovial banter, I finally asked, "Where were you guys heading?" "Some pizza place up the street, I think." "Does your mom have a cell phone, or do you have one, or do you know her number?" "We both have cell phones, but she hasn't called yet." I was furious by now. "Why don't you call your mom, and tell her that you are almost near Ontario Street."
So Marlee called her mom, to which I learned that horrible mom would wait there. Marlee began sobbing. I guessed that her mom probably scolded her with something to the effect of, "Serve you right for not following me!" My job just got harder. Jovial banter and silly jokes weren't gonna cut it anymore. Tried as I did, I somehow managed to get her calm again. About ten minutes and 10 yards later, I spotted her mom. It was good to be six feet tall. I called out to her, "Marlee's right here with me." Horrible mom shoved her way towards me, cried and hugged Marlee. "I'm so sorry!" I rolled my eyes, and thought to myself, if I ever marry a woman who would ever dare treat her own blood and flesh that way, I would not hesitate to kick her to the curb and file for divorce in a heartbeat, religious taboo notwithstanding.
So yeah, this Saturday I saw for the first time how horrible society can be. We call ourselves civilized? We were not any better than the people those Republicans like to label "third world" citizens. It seemed like logic and common sense went out the window in an instance. And it disheartened me having to witness such social behavior. It so totally killed my mojo that night. I could only randomly tell tourists every once in a while, "I'm sorry, but Chicagoans are typically not like this."
* I have seriously debated on the proper usage of the word "black." Most of my black friends from college as well as some coworkers in the professional world have told me that some get offended when called "African American," because it denotes that they are from Africa. I've been told that they would much rather prefer the term "black." And I agree with them, because in this day and age, most black Americans or Europeans are about six or more generations away from their ancestors from Africa. And add to that equation the prevalent interracial dating/marriage/child bearing. So for the extreme sensitive or overtly politically correct person, hence my reason for such term usage.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Those with mammary glands are confusing!
Ugh! I hate mind fucks. Barring from g-Matt, it seems like people with mammary glands for the most part enjoy engaging in mind fucks. Seriously! They tend to behave strangely and say things to confuse you. What is up with that?
A long while ago, I liked this girl. We hung out a lot, but not really sure where things were heading. When I first met her, we hit off pretty good; and when we got to serious talking late one evening, she briefly mentioned that she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted and dating wasn't what she was looking for. Okay, so we hung out still, and remained friends, because she's a cool person to hang out with.
Months of bliss and fun went by, and one night, she called to tell me that she was cooking dinner and I should head over for some home cooked meal and a movie. Sweet. Nothing really happened, which was good. After all, we, or at least I, had no idea where this was all heading. I mean, I was spending way too much time with her for just being friends, and she has her own circle of friends that she seemed intent not to introduce me to.
So dinner was great. We had a great time. Finally, I later decided to make the step forward. I called while she was at work and left a voicemail staying I was going to return the favor and cook dinner for her that weekend at my place. I mean, prior to my leaving out of town for work, we had already agreed to do something together the following weekend, with no particulars ironed out. But she never returned my call. So instead of cooking dinner, I ate out with friends.
Just as a courtesy, I called her to chat a few days after said weekend, but left a voicemail instead. If she didn't call me back, then I knew where we stood. No harm, no foul. We were just friends anyway.
A couple weeks went by. She finally called. I was cautious, but she wanted to hang out. Okay... But we ended up not being able to because of her staying out too late one night prior drinking away into the morning. Then another week went by. Again she called, but I let it go to voicemail. "Call me as soon as you get this message, okay, John?" I waited till I was done with work and called her back. The plan? Hang out on Saturday. Okay.
By this point in time, I'm already confused as all heck. I am no longer interested in her romantically, for a few reasons. Then she called, and said, "Let's get together for some coffee or something, but right afterwards I have to skate and go to my friend's place and watch a movie. He just bought a condo." What? Is this girl high on drugs or something? After all, I've already given up on her a long time ago, and she kept on calling me, after ignoring me for several weeks. What was the point?
Oh, if only I could understand just five percent of the neurological makeup of the female brain!
Sucks to be of Middle Eastern descent.
Name: Mostafa Tabatabainejad
Heritage: Iranian-American
Status: Student
School: UCLA
Man, I tell you what. Those Middle Eastern people really have it rough. Things just aren't the same after 9/11. People getting nervous when a dark skinned man wearing a turban boards a plan, which subsequently flight attendants asked him to move to another part of the plane. Or if you're an American Iraqi who is an activist against the war and member of the ACLU trying to board a plane with a t-shirt with "We will not be silent" written in both English and Arabic, you will be asked to remove the shirt or not board at all. Incidentally, "We will not be silent" was a statement used by student-resistance of the Nazi Movement.
It's like law enforcement folks are trying to indicate that all people of Arabic heritage is a suspect and must be viewed differently. And the latest incident that occurred on UCLA campus on Tuesday did not indicate any difference. Basically, Mostafa is a student. Campus police asked him for ID. He refused. Police asked him to leave. He refused. A verbal argument ensued. Okay, this kid is playing with fire, obviously. Then he was tasered. So far, the police *may* have a justification for that. Three police officers and one student. I think taser was a bit too much.
So Mostafa was already subdued, on the ground, and neutralized. This student is no longer a threat. When the police asked him to stand up, he refused. Then the police tasered him again. And again. And again. What?!? Why couldn't the police, with so many officers on the scene, just pick him up and drag him out? Knowing the cardio risks involved with taser equipment, repeated use of it on a single person is surely way over the edge. And he was just laying there, yelling at them. I seriously think this was more than just excessive force. It is insane!
Pending the outcome of the independent investigation led by Merrick Bobb, I will not say for certain if this was a result of ethnic targeting. But it is interesting to note that excessive police brutality almost always occur when the suspect is a minority. Coincidence? Probably. A harsh reality? Just as likely.
If we cannot attribute all police officers as abusers of the law due to a few bad apples in the force, and likewise we cannot attribute all soldiers to be rapists and murderers of innocent civilians, then why can't we not attribute all Middle Eastern people as terrorists?
Friday, November 17, 2006
LASIK just saved a jaw!
Anybody who has known me for a while would know that I'm not a violent man. The last time I got in a physical fight? Eleventh grade in high school. I royally pissed off an undergraduate during practice because I kept on rebounding the ball away from him. As a varsity starter, what am I supposed to do, other than do my absolute best? The last time a potential fight was about to break out? Back in 2002 in Kansas City, when a drunk Marine was being stupid. His other Marine buddies came over to "help," only to realize this guy was being a total jackass, apologized for him, and started bar hopping together.
Well, fast forward to tonight. My eyes were not so bad that I decided to go watch Casino Royale with a couple friends, and see if my eyes are improving as fast as I thought or I would end up having a headache with all that foggy vision. The movie turned out to be the best screenwriting I have come across in recent history of the Bond franchise. It certainly made all the movies Pierce Brosnan made look like childish, underdeveloped plotlines.
After the movie, I split off with Myke and Sharyl and headed towards the Grand station. Now mind you, I was in a very nice neighborhood, smack in the middle of downtown, where condos at that block fetch a cool $650,000 for a studio. I walked past the lobby of a nice building, where a few people were hanging out smoking. On a smoke out day, no less! Anyway, this early fifties guy, who appeared to be well-educated and wealthy as well, judging from the way he dressed, was smoking next to his wife. As I walked past him, he leered at me and said in a mocking Chinese accent, "How are you doing?" with a smirk. His wife was embarrassed, rolled her eyes, and turned around.
I stopped, turned, and approached him. I broke out in perfect English with full American accent and tone of confidence, much like when I'm lecturing a technical class for my clients, "I'm doing well. And you?" I clenched my right fist, and thought about popping him in the jaw. But just as I was about to raise my arm, logic and reason came over me. I remembered that the first three months after LASIK is crucial, as my corneas would be weak and susceptible to being dislodged easily if bumped too hard. If I were to swing at this sorry assed, rich white loser, he might raise his arms to fend me off and probably push back, with the possibility of bumping into my eyes.
I can't afford to be blind for three weeks, I thought to myself. This loser took a step back, not certain what I was going to do. His wife wouldn't know, because she has her back to him. He replied with hesitation, "I'm good, thank you." To which I simply said, "Good," before turning around and continuing my way. I muttered, "Ass hole," loud enough for him to hear.
Seriously, I'm sick and tired of racist encounters. Not that I'm keeping count, but I've had quite a lot of such encounters in Chicago in the two years I've lived here. Much more so than the deep Midwest where I lived for seven years. For such a diverse city, I cannot believe I'm hearing this crap. Oh well. I hope that loser dies in his sleep of some horrible death, like choking on some Chinese hot and sour soup. He should be thankful that I had my LASIK done yesterday.
Stinky girl on a foggy Chicago day
"Are you okay?"
"Uhm..."
"You're crying."
"Yeah, it hurts really bad."
"Are you serious?"
Yesterday was definitely not the proudest day in my life. It all started at 10:00 at Northwestern Memorial Hospital, when I walked in for my LASIK surgery. I was not nervous at all. In fact, I wasn't even thinking about the surgery. I was giddy and thinking, of all things, about a girl. For I checked my email real quick before making a mad dash for a cab.
My surgeon walked in and chatted with me. She made sure that I have taken the five milligram Valium, and asked if I was nervous. "No, but are you?" She smiled and walked into the prep room.
After paying for the procedure, they took me into the operating room. That's when I started feeling like a girl. Or at least being treated like one. I laid down on the table and they put this device to lock my head so I wouldn't move. Next they put a couple drops of cleansing solution in each of my eyes, followed by a few drops of anesthesia. Then I felt something was placed on my tummy. Huh? Since I couldn't move my head, I lifted it up over my face to see it. A teddy bear! A man does not need a teddy bear for surgery! Come on! But I laughed anyway.
The surgery commenced. The right eye would be the first to go, so they covered my left eye with a protective patch. The surgical intern taped my eyelashes, and the surgical assistant placed this device to suck my eyeball out and lock it into place. I have read that this would be a mild discomfort, but for some reason, it hurt a little bit. No worries, I thought. I probably am more sensitive to pain than most people. My surgeon gave the okay, and warned me that this is the part of the process to cut out a flap in my cornea with the Intralase laser. Cool!
After my surgeon said, "Ready," the intern started counting how many seconds left staring with 17. Sweet baby lord Jesus! It hurt! Extremely! "12." "10." "5." "2, 1, done." My right eye was crying profusely. My surgeon asked if I was okay when she noticed my streaming tears. I told her I could feel the Intralase laser, and then asked if I was supposed to feel it, since everything I read indicated that the eyes are typically numbed so the patients couldn't feel it. She asked, "Are you serious?" Then I lifted my right hand and described the pain, and indicated exactly where I felt the pain and its path. On a scale of pain between accidentally wearing an inverted uncleaned contact lens and being kneed in the balls, this was worse. And it lasted 17 seconds!
Dr. Taub and her assistant, Steve, got up and walked to the corner and started discussing things in a low voice. But I could hear them. Seconds later, she came back and said, "You described the cut accurately. You're my first patient who ever felt the laser." So I got an extra two drops of anesthesia on my right eye. As far as pain goes, everything was fine afterwards. But I guess I must have spooked Dr. Taub out, because she was nervous and had a hard time using the tweezers to lift my corneal flap. I told her, "No worries, I can't feel a thing now." Ha ha.
Before they began to cut my left eye, the intern gave me four extra drops of anesthesia. Ah. I did not feel any pain when they sucked my eyeball out, or when they did the incision. Phew. So things went smoothly from then on out. I was then escorted to the prep room, where they gave me a care package of assortment of goodies: Steroid eye drops for faster healing, antibiotic eye drops, synthetic tears, something that looked like really cheap ski goggles for use during sleep so I don't accidentally rub my eyes, and that god awful looking oversized shades to protect me from the bright light as I walk away from the hospital. I felt like one of those senior citizens on the subway or bus where they always seem to sport this exact kind of shades!
Damn, that anesthesia wore off quickly, because while following Erin through Michigan Avenue to hunt down lunch like a small pack of wolves, I started crying again. Involuntarily, of course. And it was just my right eye. It was so painful that despite my hunger, I couldn't eat. The ride home seemed like it lasted an hour too!
When I finally got home, I quickly took off my jeans and long underwear, sat on the toilet and peed like a girl! The pain was so intense that I couldn't keep my eyes open, so I decided to avoid peeing all over my bathroom floor. Finally, hands washed, goggles on, and I hit the sack. Time? 13:30.
17:00, I woke up, and peed like a girl again. Quickly downed a glass of water, and went back to sleep.
23:15, I woke up again and was hungry. The pain wasn't so intense anymore and I could actually hold my eyes open. Now it felt like I was wearing dry contacts with that scratchy feeling. My vision was blurry, and I tried to watch television. Ouch! Too bright. So I turned it off. Gosh, this is going to make for a very boring moment, I thought to myself.
After fixing a whole-wheat bagel laced with sugar free strawberry jam (yum, my favorite thing in the world), I flossed and brushed my teeth before forcing myself to sleep again. Surely enough, I slept like a little girl.
Next thing I knew, my alarm was going off at 08:00. I peered out the window from my bed, and I could see the Dominick's sign in between the slates of my blinds. Sweet! But damn, it surely was one foggy day out today. I got up, and thought, gosh, I must have left the windows open, for it was foggy in my kitchen and living room too! Oh wait, it was just my eyes.
So after a trip to my doctor's for the first post-op checkup, things are looking well. Dr. Taub explained how she got real nervous after I told her I could feel the laser. I also explained that I've had a minor surgery once before and I could feel the knife, as well as the time when I had my teeth fixed. She advised that my system probably doesn't take anesthesia as well as others, and that I should inform any surgeon who may perform anything on me in the future about this. Duly noted.
So now, I'm one happy man! I can see clearly, sorta. I can make things out, only that everything is just foggy like wearing contact lens for a day too long after pulling an all nighter. I'm happy that I no longer need to pee like a girl anymore. Happy that I can make out with a date without getting her makeup on my glasses. You know how you can't plan for that moment when a kiss comes up, right? So it's not like I can just take off my glasses with forethought. Happy that I don't have to put on contact lens every time I get ready to play sports. Happy that now I can see everything when making sweet luvin's instead of being blind in bed.
Yay! I can't wait till the fog clears up within the week! Or the clock strikes 10:00 tomorrow morning so I can take a shower and get rid of this stench!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Nervous Insomnia
It is no secret that I routinely have bouts of insomnia here and there. And lately I have been fighting insomnia of a different kind: Nervousness.
In less than 24 hours, I'll be heading into a surgical room with huge machines at the Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Procedure: elective LASIK surgery. Options: Intralase FS and Wavefront.
Here's a quick rundown of the steps involving LASIK surgery:
1. Cut out a thin, outer layer of flap on your cornea.
2. Reshape the exposed cornea with an excimer laser.
3. Replace the outer flap of the cornea.
Traditionally, for years surgeons have used a special scalpel called microkeratome for the first step. It is hand-held by the surgeon, which is used to scrap across your eye to create that flap. And it looks like this:
Yeah. Holy shit was what I said too. This has been used on millions of patients over many years since LASIK was introduced. Unfortunately, the use of such mechanical device which is controlled purely by a surgeon's hand is that 1% to 5% of patients will have complications resulting from this step alone, which may require additional surgery.
Since 2001, a new way of accomplishing the first step of the procedure has been to replace the microkeratome device with Intralase FS laser, approved by the FDA in 2000. Intralase FS laser is guided by a computer and can make the cutout of the outer layer of the cornea more precise and accurate. As of the middle of 2003, a study of 108 patients who had used the Intralase FS laser had no complications during the crucial six months after surgery.
Good news, right? I'll take that option. $300 extra an eye. I definitely don't want a miniature bug scrapper being used on my eyes! Nosireebob!
In late 2002, the FDA approved an improved LASIK procedure called custom cornea wavefront guided LASIK. This involves the second step as mentioned above. No one has perfect eyes, or perfect aberrations or irregularities in the eyes. So instead of applying a standard excimer laser to provide a specific set degree of correction in the eye, a patient will first undergo a wavefront diagnosis of the eyes to map out what irregularities exist. Think of it as fingerprinting of an eye.
With the fingerprint of the eye captured, the surgeon can plug that information into a wavefront laser machine, which will then ablate the cornea accordingly. In studies conducted by the American Academy of Ophthalmology, 90% to 94% of wavefront LASIK patients achieve 20/20 or better vision, as compared to only 80% of conventional LASIK patients. The US Navy also announced that its patients of wavefront LASIK had better distance and night vision than those of traditional LASIK patients. Better yet, a most recent but smaller study concluded that 88% of contrast measurements improved a month after wavefront LASIK surgery, as compared to just 40% for traditional LASIK.
Sounds great, right? I'll take that option as well. $500 extra an eye.
So why am I nervous, you ask? Well... For one, since its first use in 2001, only 108 patients had foregone the use of the microkeratome scalpel by 2003. That's not a whole lot. So far for the last five years, about a million people have undergone Intralase laser procedure. Compare that with the average of a few million Americans who chose LASIK on average since 1995.
Then there is the issue with the wavefront LASIK procedure. This procedure, albeit being approved by the FDA in 2002, is still relatively new. It has only become widely offered by surgeons in the country starting the end of last year, my surgeon included. Exact statistics, or approximate thereof, is still unknown, although I suspect my surgeon probably have read some new study not widely publicized yet.
And then there is the combination of having both Intralase and wavefront LASIK together. As far as I can tell, my surgeon has only performed less than 50 patients with such combination. Obviously I'm still a guinea pig.
Finally, there are only four companies that manufacture wavefront LASIK equipment: Alcon, Visx, Bausch & Lomb and WaveLight. WaveLight actually does not provide individualized treatment based on each unique patient's map of the eye, but rather that it is wavefront optimized. This much I know: My surgeon will be using a Visx equipment. Of the four companies, one of them has been sued and forced to remove its equipment from the market, and it is not Visx. That should be a sigh of relief, right? But what's to say that there isn't any serious defect in the design of the other manufacturers' equipment that has yet to be discovered as of late?
Yeah. So all that is floating through my head and causing me to toss and turn in bed. Despite the nervousness and lack of sleep, I am still committed to getting this done, and I cannot be more excited about it than anyone. It's just that I hate being the kind of person who wants to know as much as possible in the greatest details. Sigh!
So this will probably be my last entry for the rest of the week, until my doctor indicates I am all good to stare at bright computer screens. =)
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Blast from the Past...
A long, long time ago, I made the painful decision to disassociate and distance myself from this particular girl. For her sake. For my sake. Our intertwined lives were complicated. A push without a pull. A pull without a push. It was not easy to forget, but I managed to do so in the hopes that she would turn out to be a better person. A person who could finally find herself without the anchor that was I.
Several days ago, after a long silence for almost a year, she reached out to me briefly. Was it awkward? I thought so. Did I return the courtesy? It was the only polite thing to do. And that was my blast from the past. Perhaps it'll be another year before something happens again. I hope it is just longer this time, because sometimes the painful memory is just unbearable.
Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you
Tell you I need you
Tell you I set you apart
Tell me your secrets
And ask me your questions
let's go back to the start
Running in circles
Calling tails
Heads on a science apart
Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
take me back to the start
I was just guessing
At numbers and figures
Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science
Science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart
Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh, and I rush to the start
Running in circles
Chasing our tails
Coming back as we are
Nobody said it was easy
it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start...
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Sweet fruit of the loom!!!
I think I'm dumping my FTL and Hanes undies for chic Danish brand JBS. Despite the fact I was a bit offended by the stereotype of men they tried to put forward. I mean, I'm sure most men behave like that, but certainly not me! But one thing is true though. I don't want to look at naked men!
Labels: adverts, funny, random
Justice is Justice
Many of you know that I'm a strong opponent to the Iraqi war. Mostly because it was truly uncalled for, on the basis of bad intelligence exacerbated by bad decision makers exacerbated by trigger happy Cheney.
So we invaded Iraq. We removed Saddam Hussein from power. Oops, no weapons of mass destruction. Oops, no links to terrorism. To save face, what are we going to do? Put up a puppet Iraqi justice system, and try the president for crimes against humanity for the arrest, torture, killings and deportation of people in 1982. Don't forget that such trials are borderline illegal, because such trials should be tried by a court with international judges uninvolved with the invasion.
It is interesting to note that the United States and the international community did nothing about it, even after the Gulf War of 1990 through 1991. So why now? I guess it was better to try him for something, anything, than to let him free and apologize for the invasion. Furthermore, he was the head of state when all these atrocities occurred, so it was natural to put all the blame squarely on President Hussein.
Well, on Friday, former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, former CIA Director George Tenet and others will face international investigation and prosecution for war crimes and related offenses in regards to torture and prison abuse in Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay. Yay!
I know it is very un-American of me to be happy about this, but seriously, justice is justice. For Gonzales to bend the rules and push the envelope by redefining and reinterpreting international law, and for Rumsfeld to personally authorize highly questionable and unethical methods of interrogation as well as lack of oversight and attempts to sweep the prison scandal under the rugs initially, they are clearly disrespecting American values!
Isn't it in the preamble to the Constitution, also known as the Declaration of Independence to both you and me, that states:
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
Well, apparently Rumsfeld and Gonzales think that only American people are created equal, and respecting human rights is a rule that doesn't apply to Americans, and that the Geneva Convention doesn't apply to the United States.
Such disrespect towards our very own American values, our very own Declaration of Independence, has no place for representatives of the American government. It is extremely shameful to us. Sometimes when I see some of these American atrocities, I am ashamed to be an American. I immigrated to the United States because of the values and principles, but I feel cheated and lied to when the government does not hold onto its own beliefs!
So I say go ahead and try them in International Criminal Court. Maybe by finding them guilty of clear and apparent crimes against humanity will be the first step towards making peace with the international community and saving our own face. Don't forget that we were the ones who detonated two weapons of mass destruction against millions of innocent Japanese civilians several decades ago. Such two-faced abuse have got to stop now. So go get 'em!
Getting Hell for Freedom
So a few days ago I blogged about the Freedom video some genius created and posted onto YouTube. And not only did I just bring awareness to it within the boundaries of my blog, I also instant messaged and emailed it to my friends, Republicans included.
Not that I was thumbing my nose at my Republican friends, but rather that I wanted those who only vote Republican only because of the righteous BS they take in blindly as fed by those hypocritical religious politicians.
Well, I sure did get a lot of hell from my Republican friends for sure. Here is a summary of their snap backs defending their Bush, and my attempts to remove the veil over their eyes. Hey, what's life without a little debate between friends?
1. W Bush didn't make Katrina happen!
No shit, Sherlock! We all know hurricanes are a product of Mother Nature. But why are we criticizing W Bush? Well, for starters, it was W Bush who appointed former FEMA director Michael D Brown into that position in January 2003. Interestingly, this jackass has no prior experience in emergency management! Bushy; what was he thinking?
Secondly, while it was freaking clear to the world that gross mismanagement of the crisis was going on and in the midst of public criticism, your buddy W Bush defended Brown so early without knowing all the facts by publicly staying, "Brownie, you're doing a heck of a job." Bushy; what was he thinking?
2. In defense of FEMA, you can't blame the federal government for not knowing how to handle its first national disaster.
Come again? Just because FEMA was a department with a new name that got rolled into the new Department of Homeland Security after 9/11, it does not give the federal government the excuse of being inexperienced. Federal emergency preparedness has been around ever since the USSR sent Fidel Castro a few nukes to point at us. And lest we forget, the National Guards around the country have had experience with managing disaster! It was poor decision making that led to the delayed response of the National Guard deployment. And don't get me started with mismanagement after the fact, like giving out debit cards multiple times to same individuals, or approving federal aid loans to people unaffected by Katrina. Bushy; what was he thinking?
3. The Iraqi quagmire wasn't W Bush's fault. It was them terrorists!
Oh, it wasn't? I don't remember Iraq having any sectarian violence and a nation that has been around centuries longer than our beloved United States of America being on the verge of a civil war before we decided to go into Iraq. I mean, bin Laden was nowhere to be found two years after 9/11, and our Commander in Chief conspired with his other tools of Staff to stretch the truth, suppress doubts voiced by those who knew their jobs in intelligence, to bring justification for war. All the while reducing troop levels in Afghanistan!
This is not even a question of which came first, the chicken or the egg. Most terrorists in Iraq are not even Iraqis. They went there only because their target, which is America, was there. It was cheaper to send "them terrorists" into Iraq, which is pretty much their own backyard, than to send them across the Atlantic and Pacific into this country. They went there because we were there. Bushy; what was he thinking?
4. But it wasn't W Bush's fault for poor intelligence!
What? He gets weekly and monthly briefings on intelligence, and there were memos from experts screaming doubts over authenticity of certain claims, yet W Bush and his trigger happy friend Cheney, who stood to gain the most from his Halliburton company should we go into Iraq, pushed for the war. Seriously! It wasn't his fault? It is his damn fault for not insisting on clearer picture and thorough investigation into leads before committing to the war! Bushy; what was he thinking?
5. But don't forget that it was Congress, including the Democrats, who approved of the war. They're at fault too!
Okay. You really want me to believe that all members of Congress are privy to the same intelligence briefings as W Bush and his joint chiefs of staff? He fed Congress a piece of lie, and why should Congress doubt the president? After all, everybody assumed that the president would exercise due diligence and do his homework before attempting to put war on the table! Bushy; what was he thinking?
6. You can't blame the president for the acts of the select few who abused prisoners.
Okay. Ever heard of the following phrase: "poor performance from workers simply reflect poorly on their managers" or "misbehaving kids reflect poorly on the parents"? And don't forget that Michael Chertoff was the architect at the Department of Justice behind redefining the boundaries of what is and isn't torture, which led to W Bush and his comrades into allowing certain acts that are clearly against the Geneva Convention. Oh, and did I fail to mention that Chertoff was appointed by W Bush? Oh, and did I also fail to mention that Alberto Gonzales was appointed by W Bush into the Attorney General of the United States, who also went so far as bending the rules? Granted, the Abu Ghraib incidents occurred before Gonzales took office, but don't forget Guantanamo Bay! Bushy; what was he thinking?
7. President Bush could not have prevented 9/11. It was the Clinton's Administration's fault!
Oh. I see how it is. It is okay for the Bush Administration to downplay the threat of Al Qaeda based on the fact that the Clinton Administration did so too. So it wasn't my fault for playing in the mud because my sister went first. Gee, that sounds like sound accountability to me, my friend. Has it not occurred to anyone that Al Qaeda wasn't plotting as big of a plan during the Clinton Administration until the Bush regime took over? I am sure that "them terrorists" didn't time their plans and actions to target the Republicans. Threat levels change, and assessments must be routinely made and reacted appropriately. The Bush Administration did not react accordingly when the threat levels went up. And don't forget that it took W Bush a while to even act like the leader of a country when news broke out that we had been hit by terrorists in New York City.
Wait a second. Poor reaction during 9/11. Poor reaction during Katrina. Do I see a pattern? Bushy; what was he thinking?
8. President Bush did the right thing with the wiretap of Americans. Our safety is more important than civil liberties and rights.
WTF? Benjamin Franklin once wrote, "Those who would sacrifice liberty for security deserve neither." And I strongly believe that. Okay, fine, I too agree that wiretapping for security is justifiable. But it was the approach that stank to high heavens. Alberto Gonzales, the Attorney General of the United States, again bent the rules and decided to break the checks and balances designed in our government structure. We taunt and flaunt our democracy as the best in the world and a perfect model of government, yet this W Bush appointed fellow broke all the rules and bypassed the secret court, which was designed specifically for the purpose of matters of national security!
Again, like I said, WTF?!? Is the Judicial Branch of our government a decorative piece on the wall? All these rule bending and ignoring the process laid out in our perfect democracy surely indicates that the Bush Administration was acting much like a bunch of gung-ho's and cowboys! Bushy; what was he thinking?
Side note: I know the author of the video left out any reference to John R Bolton, but I just want to point out that the Bush Administration routinely pushes the envelope with loopholes and poke fun at the Constitution. How do you appoint and permanently install some dude into the position of United States Ambassador to the United Nations when you know Congress might not confirm such appointment? Why, you apply Article II, Section 2 of the US Constitution!
Okay, now you're saying, that means it is okay, right? Well, I would be okay with it if W Bush applied this special power granted upon the President strictly for the purpose of filling a position when Congress was in recess. But he took advantage of it because his nomination wouldn't be confirmed! And guess what? W Bush recently declared that if Congress does not confirm Bolton again, he has threatened that he will make use of the recess appointment again. Now that, my friend, is a blatant confession that he is thumbing his nose at the Constitution! Bushy; what was he thinking?
9. Mark Foley, Jack Abramoff and Tom Delay has nothing to do with the President.
As a Republican president, isn't he technically the leader of his political party? All these scandals occurring in his party is quite interesting. Much like the kids of a family behaving badly is, again, a reflection of the parents. Enough said.
Well, there are definitely more to W Bush that I could bring up, but I only want to put to paper, or electronic thereof, the debates surrounding the video and the defenses my friends brought to me. Either way you slice it, this president is a joke!
Note: To my Republican friends, I still respect you as a friend. This is not a way to insult you or your intelligence. We merely have differences in opinion, and I merely want to share the flaws in your defenses. Don't hate me. ;-)
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Let the binge begin!
November 9, 2006. 14 days before Thanksgiving. And I already kicked off my annual ritual known as the stretching of my tummy, or officially, Thanksgiving binging. Tonight I went to Shari's place right after arriving at Midway to have some awesome bird meal and the whole fixin's. Yum! Turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, scalloped potatoes, and stuffing.
And it was all washed down with a glass of Shiraz, a glass of Merlot, a slice of pumpkin pie and a slice of apple strudel pie.
Let the sin of gluttony begin!
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
AoE: There were three; now there are two!
As of 13:24 ET, Reuters broke the news that Rumsfeld, one of the three Asses of Evil, will be stepping down. Hooray!
Of course this is good news, but bad news too. Rumsfeld stepping down now is perhaps too late for Bush and the Republicans. If he had quit years ago, and Bush had not "stayed the course," perhaps we wouldn't have a quagmire, the Republicans would still control Congress, and we the people would not be in so much pain and anguish.
Oh well... Too little, too late. But I'm not going to lose sleep over it. I hope this is a harbinger for Cheney to step down (or preferably fired), and W Bush to be impeached.
Boo hoo hoo!
Last night, Karl Rove informed W Bush at 23:15 ET that the House was lost. W Bush's reaction? Disappointment.
This morning, House Majority Leader John Boehner said in a statement, "Our challenge as Republicans is to regain our confidence, our courage and our energy to address the big issues that matter."
Wha wha what?!?
Let me get this straight… This could mean one of two things.
1) Now that they have lost control of the House, they have to do a lot to address the big issues that matter. Does that mean the Republicans have not really worked on the big issues all this time?!?
2) Now that they have lost control of the House, they have a lot to accomplish and address the big issues that matter. What did he mean by the "big issues?" Issues that matter to all of us the constituencies, or issues as in, "We've got to work towards regaining control?" What kind of big issues are we talking about exactly?
Either way you slice it, this just means that the Republicans don't have us citizens in mind. If they had done what was right, and address issues that matter to us, then maybe they wouldn't have lost so many seats! Ever thought about it that way?
Now we wait and see what happens in Montana and Virginia.
Note: Depending on which news source you go with, some are projecting Webb (D) as the winner of the Senate race in Virginia as of 13:04 ET, whereas others are cautious and suggest a recount is likely (due to current Virginia voting laws).
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Kentucky Fried Tuesday!
Okay, I'm tired and can't write much. Business school style here in regards to an interesting day since this is my first ever foray into the state of Kentucky...
- Woke up at 06:00 so I can head out to the airport. This after flying into Midway from FLL on Monday night and doing a laundry quickie.
- Lake Shore Drive was jammed. It took over 30 minutes to get from where I live to Fullerton. And I saw a possum for the first time in Chicago ever! I was on the far left lane, and the possum passed me while scurrying along the edge of the road!
- Saw a bunch of cute high school girls near North Ave holding up letters that make up a word urging people to vote. Turned out that they were the reason for the traffic jam; stupid drivers slowing down to watch.
- Midway Airport shut down the sixth floor at the parking garage, which became full and I was advised to park offsite. This with 30 minutes till my flight departs. But I got lucky someone just flew in and left and gave me her spot.
- Flight delayed due to fog. Sat on the tarmac forever.
- Landed in Louisville, Kentucky. The drive down to Lexington, Kentucky was beautiful.
- Learned from the radio during the hour and a half drive that A) Kentucky has two time zones, B) Kentuckians are crazy about horse racing, and C) Kentucky men have serious issues under the sheets; so many ads about pills that allow you to have frequent sex with shorter recovery time, pills that will help you ejaculate more, pills that will make you last in bed, and on and on and on.
- In true fashion, after not setting foot in a certain restaurant since years ago when I went with Libby and her then tool, I had my first meal in Kentucky at Kentucky Fried Chicken. It was only fitting.
Did you vote?
Exercise your right!
Folks, go out and vote. Make a difference today. You fought hard to severe ties from the Queen to earn this basic human right, so don't waste it! =)
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Chinky eyes...
Ugh! What a horrible morning. I knew I had to work odd hours this weekend, so instead of going out and drinking to skew my body clock, and subsequently having to drive back to the hotel tipsy which I want to avoid even if my BAC was only 0.04, I forced myself to stay awake late by watching Lucky # Slevin. So how can that lead to a bad morning, you ask.
Well, I hit the sack at 04:00, and not wanting to skip out on breakfast {mmm, I love fresh cut strawberries and melon}, I woke up at 10:15 to head down to the hotel restaurant just in time before breakfast is no longer served. As usual, the restaurant was barely busy with lots of empty tables. As this was a seat yourself kind of establishment, I made a beeline for my usual, and favorite, table in this one particular corner.
"You can't sit there. How about here?" The lone server pointed to a skinny table fit for two intimately. "That table is for four persons."
Are you kidding me? A huge restaurant, and there were only three patrons with just 15 minutes till closing time, and she wanted to make sure that one of the regular sized tables is used exclusively for larger parties? The other servers during the weekdays never had a problem. "I don't think you'll get busy any time soon, and there are many other regular tables to sit if a party of four comes," I responded.
"Okay, you sit there," as she pointed to the regular table next to the one I wanted. She explained, "This one is dirty." Without thinking, and with my tummy cursing at me, I yielded to her request.
It wasn't till a moment later when I got up to get my food when I noticed, then studied, that the table I wanted wasn't dirty at all! Now that was interesting, I thought. She didn't want me to sit in the corner table, first citing my being alone, followed with a lie about the cleanliness of the table. Curiosity got the best of me. Was I being treated unlike an adult because I was sporting jeans and tee? This has happened to me many times before. I don't know why I get more respect and courtesy on planes, in restaurants, etc when I wear my business attire; and I get treated like a poor college kid when I'm out of my business attire.
When the server came back to refill my juice, I asked her pointedly, "Why didn't you want me to sit in that corner? It isn't dirty." She was speechless for a second. Then she walked over and said, "The guy who worked last night didn't do a good job cleaning it," while sliding her hand across the tabletop looking for imaginary bread crumbs or other filth. I just looked away, because she couldn't get out of this one. Who works in a restaurant and leave just one table dirty from 06:00 to 10:30? It was no big deal but I just wanted to see what her reaction would be, so I went back to my melon.
Finally she approached me later and said, "If it was dirty, I should have cleaned it for you." Wow, more than I expected! I was impressed! But how does all this make my morning a horrible one?
After I have paid my bill, she caught me on the way out the door and asked, "Are you Chinese?" to which I always respond, "I'm an American half Taiwanese and half Malaysian." What I got volleyed back from her in this social interaction almost made me lose control of my bowels on the spot. Her answer stunned me and made me speechless and made me want to reclaim the tip I left on the table as I slowly walked out of the restaurant dazed and amazed:
"Taiwanese? I thought you are Chinese because your eyes are a little chinky."
Friday, November 03, 2006
They're all hypocrites!
As soon as I landed in Ft. Lauderdale and got my laptop setup on the network at the client site, I tested the connectivity to make sure I can get to the internet. The first thing I always hit is CNN.com.
Holy cow! I was not prepared for this shocker! This just further illustrates my point that evangelicals and Republicans are just a bunch of hypocrites!
By the way, this is done in humor. The act of a select few, or in the case of right wing Christians and Republicans, a lot few, is not representative of the entire evangelical and Republican base. I hope.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
It's getting worse by the second!
What is it with this guy? I have been to Cleveland twice, and of the opportunities to get a ride to and from the airport, I have selected this limousine driver two out of four times. The first time was when I flew in last week. And during that time, while heading to downtown, we saw five car accidents on the highway due to rain.
Today, some serious doo doo hit the fan. Come on! Seriously, if anything can go wrong, it definitely has at this client site. First we shipped the wrong software and hardware to them. Next the motherboard on one of the servers failed. Great! A $28,000 part in a $85,000 brand new server failed. Then a newly replaced correct hardware failed and had to be replaced. I thought things would have settled down yesterday when I left work before sunset, but a critical hard drive crashed today! I dread what kind of wrench the system will throw me next.
So instead of getting on my planned 16:50 flight out of Cleveland, I had to switch it to the 21:10 flight, which was the last one out. While on the brink of having to work through the night and flying straight to Ft. Lauderdale tomorrow versus catching the last flight out if I can resolve the remaining issues tonight, I was worried. I called the aforementioned limousine driver up. He was far away, but he would be at my building no later than 20:00.
19:55. Problems resolved. I definitely can go home. 20:05. My cell rang. His words? "I'm here. If you want to make your flight, you better hurry down here. It's getting worse by the second." What? When I finally got out of the building, it was apparent to me that it has already started to snow real bad! I thought the forecast called for heavy rain tonight and snow on Friday. I guess weather can be fickle.
When we got on the highway, we were slippin' and slidin'! And what do you know? We drove by three car accidents on the same highway as the last time I rode with him. Two for two. When I travel with this guy, car accidents occur. But I'm sure it is all just a coincidence. Or was it?
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
So much for crime scene investigation...
I was so excited to be done with work before sunset today that I made plans in my mind for what follows next. I'll first walk back to the hotel, then change into my running gear and stretch. Next I will go to the gym and run five miles on the treadmill before retreating to my room for a quick shower. Concluding the evening will be dinner at a nice Italian restaurant followed by a television break to watch CSI: NY.
Well... I'll tell you what.
Instead of five miles, I ran longer. I felt guilty for not running the last two days because I had been working 12 hour days. And the whole medium pizza I wolfed down last night didn't alleviate the overhanging guilt either. Then instead of a quick dinner, which I already knew what I wanted to have before getting there since I have frequented this particular restaurant numerous times before, I ended up spending a lot of time eating. And chatting with one of the managers. And talking football with the two old farts to my right. One of them is from Chicago; and you know me. Talk about the Bears, and badabing badaboom. Unfortunately, though, they talked a lot about the '85 Bears which, ahem, I was way too young to remember.
The highlight of the evening was definitely not the good conversations I had with the manager, bartender, and fellow patrons sitting next to me. It was this captivating girl named Karalynn. I was really glad that she didn't blow me off for not remembering her name correctly from last time, but I guess my saving grace was that I remembered her mom's for hers. Phew! We talked and talked and talked. You know me; I love food and eating. But this girl made me milk out my pasta for over an hour! And she milked out her Guinness as well. An amazing night, I tell you!
Missing the bigger picture!
So I am at an undisclosed location in Cleveland working my butt off since last week. And today I actually get to leave before 18:00! I'm so excited about that!
Anyway, I work on the fifth floor, and after a certain time, my access card won't allow me to get to another part of the building on the same floor, where the restroom is. So I'm usually forced to use the restroom on the first floor by the security desk near the side entrance.
Each time I use the restroom downstairs, I chuckle because there is a piece of paper taped onto the wall along the urinals with the following message: "PLEASE FLUSH AFTER USED", and a handwritten word below the crossed out "USED" that read: "USE".
Then this week we've got new paper printouts replaced by presumably the same person who put up the original ones. This time, the signs read: "PLEASE THINK OF THE NEXT PERSON USING THIS RESTROOM. PLEASE FLUSH."
Any logical person can deduce from this observation over time that people forgetting to flush the urinals is a big problem; one that keeps on popping up. The problem is so huge that it prompted someone to print those papers out!
But you know what? I feel like doing my own printout. I want to put a couple signs on the mirrors by the sink, because apparently everybody is missing the bigger picture of the problem. My sign would read: "PLEASE REFILL SOAP DISPENSERS!!!"