The St Halcyon Chronicles

The BEST Comment EVER

2010-06-04T13:09:00.006-05:00

I have been following the Israeli Flotillagate, and a friend sent me this article discussing US citizenship, especially in context of the American citizen who was murdered by the Israeli Defense Forces.

As usual, I like to read other readers' comments, and comment #22 written by a "El Cid" made me laugh.

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Israel’s Interior Minister wants to remove citizenship from the Israeli Arab Knesset (Parliament) representative who was arrested on the flotilla.

Interior Minister Eli Yishai petitioned Attorney General Yehuda Weinstein to help him revoke the Israeli citizenship of Israeli Arab MK Hanin Zuabi, who took part in efforts to break Israel’s blockade of Gaza on a flotilla of aid ships earlier this week…

...In recent days,” Yishai wrote to Weinstein on Thursday, “Israel’s citizens have witnessed how an Israeli member of parliament, Hanin Zuabi, headed a group of terrorists who aimed to hurt Israel Defense Forces soldiers, under the protection of her parliamentary immunity.”

Yishai asked Weinstein for his help as the Supreme Court had ruled that an interior minister cannot revoke a person’s citizenship without the written authorization of the attorney general.

“MK Zuabi used her immunity as a cloak to protect her from the law, although she was undoubtedly aware of the activists’ preparations for the attack against IDF troops,” Yishai wrote. “This is a premeditated act of treason, and there is documented proof of this.”

An “attack on IDF troops”.

Similarly, innocent people shot by police are premeditated bullet thieves.
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Lo siento, yo no soy Hispano.

2010-05-06T18:30:00.006-05:00

When I went to Cancun with a friend a couple years ago, I was taken aback a little bit when the local folks talked to me in Spanish. Not just a couple here or there, but a lot. Being mistaken for a Hispanic in the United States is one thing, as I attribute it to ignorant people, but to be mistaken likewise in Mexico just tells me that, perhaps, despite my tainted brownish Chinese appearance, I may really look like a fair skinned Hispanic.

Now, why did I bring this up? Imagine this: I go down to Arizona for a little touristy visit, and like a typical American, I bring just my Illinois state ID. No passport, no birth certificate and no certificate of naturalization. Furthermore, I nonchalantly rolled through a stop sign at an intersection instead of coming to a full stop for three seconds as required by most traffic laws. I get pulled over, and am asked for proof of my legal status. Unfortunately, I cannot provide this. So I get arrested without a warrant, and then later transferred to Homeland Security custody, instead of just being cited for traffic violation as usual.

This potential chain reaction started with the fact that I didn't carry on my person proof of legal status in the country, further compounded by the fact that I looked Hispanic. And this all could happen only because of Arizona Senate Bill 1070, which amended a few existing Arizona statutes.

Arizona SB 1070 came about following the brutal murder of a third generation Arizona rancher, Robert Krentz near the border on March 27, which heated up the anger and frustration of Arizonans. The Republican senators, in response without looking like they're not doing anything, rushed through the creation of the bill and slammed it through the senate through its Republican majority seats of Senate. All Republicans, save for Carolyn S Allen, voted for the passage of the bill, whereas the Democrats either voted against or abstained. [The senate is made up of 18 Republicans, 12 Democrats, and 3 vacated seats. The vote breakdown was 17 Ayes (all Republicans), 11 Nays (10 Democrats and 1 Republican), and 2 Abstains (both Democrats).]

Please don't get me wrong. Like most Americans, I agree with the fact that this nation has an illegal immigration problem which desperately needs addressing. Furthermore, I am in full support of states taking measures to protect themselves in such regards when the federal government has been unable to address the issue. But, I am not in support of Arizona's new law. Specifically the amendment to Section 2, Title 11, Chapter 7 with the addition to Article 8, where provision B states:
"FOR ANY LAWFUL CONTACT MADE BY A LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICIAL OR AGENCY OF THIS STATE OR A COUNTY, CITY, TOWN OR OTHER POLITICAL SUBDIVISION OF THIS STATE WHERE REASONABLE SUSPICION EXISTS THAT THE PERSON IS AN ALIEN WHO IS UNLAWFULLY PRESENT IN THE UNITED STATES, A REASONABLE ATTEMPT SHALL BE MADE, WHEN PRACTICABLE, TO DETERMINE THE IMMIGRATION STATUS OF THE PERSON."

This provision forces all levels of law enforcement from state to county to city to subdivision to act as immigration officer, a jurisdiction held by the federal government, not anywhere else. The jurisdiction issue is not something I particularly care about, but I do care about the fact that anyone can be detained where "reasonable suspicion exists that the person is an alien who is unlawfully present in the United States."

Great! Now what? If you read the entire bill, nowhere did the legislature provide any assistance to law enforcement on the definition of "reasonable suspicion," nor provide any guidelines in understanding so. If I ask you to take a look at two women, one of whom is menstruating, and the other not, would you be able to tell which one is? Likewise, how can you tell the difference between someone who is here legally and one who isn't? Because, Arizona's law basically gave whether "reasonable suspicion exists that the person is an alien who is unlawfully present in the United States" as a probable cause. And nowhere in the bill do the Republican lawmakers explain what this "reasonable suspicion" is.

This poorly written and rushed bill is vague in its language, and certainly invites racial profiling as a tool that law enforcements will reluctantly employ in determining who is an illegal alien and who isn't. There is no way around it, given the vagueness of the bill.

Since 1995, there have been several joint programs between the federal and local governments known as 287(g) programs. Such programs were authorized by Section 287(g) of the Immigration and Nationality Act (INA), enacted in 1995. Section 287(g) of this law authorized the federal government to enter into agreements with state and local law enforcement agencies, permitting designated officers to perform immigration law enforcement functions, pursuant to a Memorandum of Agreement (MOA), provided that the local law enforcement officers receive appropriate training and function under the supervision of sworn U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers.

In essence, 287(g) programs give local law enforcements the same powers as provided by Arizona Senate Bill 1070, with a couple differences: 1) requirement of training on the local law enforcement's part, and 2) the option to question someone of their legal status rests on the local law enforcer, as opposed to required all of the time.

Given that several programs have been created under this provision in federal law for 15 years, many of the participating local law enforcement agencies have advised Arizona Governor Brewer against endorsing SB 1070. Their reasons, which can be backed up by statistics, were: 1) No matter how much training their law enforcers had from the federal government, nearly half of them admitted that determination was so difficult that they ended up unknowingly and unintentionally employing racial profiling practices; 2) Only 9% of the 145,000 people arrested under this program were violent criminals; and 3) The program has a counterproductive effect on people as it creates distrust of law enforcement to the point where no witness, legal or not, is willing to report crimes or help investigators.

The most important thing to note here is that those with experience in similar types of enforcements have warned of racial profiling, a practice deemed unconstitutional in various courts, as it violates the Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution. [The Fourth Amendment states: The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.] Proponents of AZ SB 1070, when discussing the merits of the law, seemed willing to give up such a civil liberty as if the right was not worth anything. Either that or they tend to downplay the severity of such practice. When publicly asked how the state's various law enforcement agencies can avoid racial profiling without the state legislature providing assistance either in language or provision of training dollars in the bill, Governor Brewer simply responded that racial profiling will not happen. As if her word alone is strong enough to prevent some of the most natural human tendencies toward racial bias. (Please don't confuse "racial bias" from a subconscious state of mind to active "racism.")

Another noteworthy point is that proponents of the law seem to buy into the notion created by the fear mongering of Republicans that illegal immigrants are all violent criminals, with the propensity to take a life. And this is further amplified by Conservative media, which just adds fuel to a raging fire. Just watch this incendiary Fox News report on the peoples' reaction to the rancher's murder, which conveniently left out the voices of those in the town hall meeting with an opposing (and cool-headed and objective) point of view:

What's important to realize is that those who commit violent crimes have no boundaries in skin color or even immigration status. I thought we have already learned the lesson from the misconception at the turn of the century when people assumed black people were the culprits behind any given crime when there are no suspects. But now, at the turn of the new century, instead of black people, illegal immigrants are being unfairly targeted and portrayed as violent criminals at large who will do anything and break common sense laws, such as murder.

I fully support states that adopt their own laws to protect its citizens when the federal government seemed unable to do so when it comes to border and immigration issues. So long as the laws are not unconstitutional. But the Arizona law gave an open invitation to racial profiling without constitutional probable cause, and thus lead to violation of the Fourth Amendment. It's not the idea behind the law I am against, but the vagueness of the verbiage and lack of provision to protect the civil rights of all people that I am truly against.

The United States was founded and based on civil rights, which Americans are so damn proud of because no other country can rival it even today. In the Declaration of Independence, it is stated: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights." We further stated in the Preamble to the United States Constitution: "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America." And we spelled out what these unalienable rights and blessings of liberty are, in the form of the Bill of Rights in the United States Constitution.

Of so many laws pertaining to immigration enacted and adopted by many states in 2010 alone, the Arizona state law is the only one that not only draws criticism, but takes away a civil right protected by the United States Constitution by means of legalized racial profiling. The law does nothing more than make a mockery of our Constitution. For that, I cannot fully support or agree with how Arizonans chose to protect themselves from illegal immigration problems.

You know what one of the founding fathers, Benjamin Franklin, once wrote? "They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety."

What Constitutes a Smartphone?

2010-04-29T20:51:00.002-05:00

As it is 2010 already, it has almost been three years since I first wrote about the iPhone. Without much fanfare, it has been nearly a year since I upgraded my Nokia N95 to the N97 phone. And now, we have iPhone OS version 4 coming soon in the summer. So where do I stand now? With news of the new iPhone OS version 4 and the unfortunate accidental discovery of a prototype 4th generation iPhone recently, let's take another pulse...

First, we start with the elimination of my quips of the iPhone since I last wrote about it.

1. Multitasking: FINALLY! Sort of. Apple finally allows a pseudo form of multitasking. Instead of doing full multitasking just like Nokia's Symbian or Microsoft's Windows Mobile OS (except for the upcoming version 7), the iPhone now allows some sort of multitasking by giving the application access to resources via seven predefined APIs. Never mind the fact that Nokia's Symbian OS has been able to do TRUE multitasking since 1997! Any technical guru can do a bit of a research and realize that Nokia's Symbian OS has the most advanced multitasking capability for a portable operating system. Apple's prior reason for not including multitasking is the argument on drain on battery life. Well, that is a line of horse crap that we all have heard before, and now replaced with other baseless reasons. Remember the argument that the 3G chip was not included in the initial iPhone because for fear of battery drain? Ha!
Status: With this new feature, albeit limited and inferior to even Palm's WebOS, and far inferior to Nokia's Symbian OS, I am willing to give the iPhone a green light on this point.

2. Text Input: Well, the iPhone OS version 3 released in June of 2009 finally introduced a landscape keyboard as I wanted and complained about years ago. But it doesn't go far enough.
Status: Yellow light. Why yellow? It still does not address my desire to perform text input using just one hand, unless you have an unusually large hand and thumb with equally amazing dexterity. For me, text input should be simple and fast, and should not give you carpal tunnel syndrome. Too many buttons all spaced tightly together calls for microscopic accuracy for the motor and coordination functions of the hand. This is where Nokia's Symbian OS shines, with the excellent predictive text entry system using just the numeric pad. If the iPhone also offers this as an additional alternative to text input, it will be green all around. This is the very reason why I avoid full QWERTY smartphones like Nokia's E71 or BlackBerry's offerings.

3. Search: The iPhone OS version 3 finally introduced a Spotlight search feature. Nokia's Symbian S60 OS had this feature for years, and it definitely is a prerequisite for what constitutes a smartphone.
Status: Green light here.

4. Cut, Copy & Paste: This feature was initially released in iPhone OS version 3, and I truly applaud this! Not only did Apple include a feature that is a prerequisite of what a smartphone should have, it implemented the feature superbly! But did Apple really have to wait three revisions of the operating system to include a smartphone prerequisite?
Status: Green light all around for this feature!

5. Multimedia Message Service (MMS): (Or what you non-technical people call picture text messages.) It is very sad to have to include this, as this feature is such a basic feature that it should have transcended the need to be a prerequisite of a smartphone, but a prerequisite of all modern cell phones! Considering that dumbphones all around have this feature for years, I am glad that Apple finally brought this feature to the iPhone with OS version 3.
Status: Green light.

6. Assisted GPS Receiver: The second generation of the iPhone finally introduced the inclusion of a GPS receiver. What's really interesting of note here is that while Apple claimed an unacceptable battery life if the 3G radio chip was included, Apple introduced both the 3G chip and GPS receiver together in the second generation of the iPhone! Total BS on the battery drain excuse! But whatever. I'm glad Apple finally included this.
Status: Green light.

7. Video Recording: The third generation of the iPhone supports video recording. Finally.
Status: Green light here.

8. 3.5 mm TRRS Connector (audio jack): Well, the second generation of the iPhone, starting with the iPhone 3G, eliminated the recessed plug, thus making all aftermarket standard earphones a choice for the consumer.
Status: Yellow light. Why yellow light? Well, until Apple commits to keeping this plug free and clear, unlike what they did to the iPod Shuffle with the new authentication chip, I am extremely cautious of Apple's future line of products, the 4th generation of the iPhone included. Granted, so far the three generations of iPhone do not have this, but they all are not good enough a phone for me to consider owning.

Second, let's look at the list of quips that is still persistent, which still prevents me from ever considering the iPhone.

1. Bluetooth: I still don't understand why Apple included the Bluetooth radio but won't allow it to do many smartphone functionalities normally found in other smartphones for years. The initial release of the iPhone OS allows only HSP profile, or the ability to connect to wireless earphones. The next "major" change was with iPhone OS version 3, where A2DP profile support was added, which allows the iPhone to connect to wireless stereo audio devices. The final "major" change is with the new iPhone OS version 4, where a limited HID profile is to be added, which allows only keyboards (not any other HID devices) to be connected.

Seriously?!? The Bluetooth receiver is already there! Why perform software controls on what profiles can be used? For years, both dumbphones and smartphones have employed the OBEX profile, which allows transfer of any kind of files and contact vCards between Bluetooth-enabled phones. And for years, both dumbphones and smartphones have employed the HFP profile, which allows hands free connection to devices that enable hands free communication while driving. The fact that Audi was the first auto manufacturer to include Bluetooth HFP in its Audi A8 back in 2002 is a testament that Bluetooth enabled phones, both dumb and smart, had this HFP profile for years! DaimlerChrsyler and Acura offered Bluetooth HFP in 2003. Today, you can't find a car that does not offer the Bluetooth HFP connectivity as an option, including low end cheap rides!

2. PIM Synchronization: A basic smartphone should have the ability to synchronize basic PIM information. It is no secret that the intermediary catalyst of synchronization is the most important software that joins a smartphone and a computer in holy synchronization. Well, let's face it. Apple's iTunes is inferior when it comes to synchronization. For one, its inability to treat Calendar events in a flexible manner really puts iTunes to shame. For another, iTunes can only synchronize with Mac OS X Mail (on the Mac OS X platform) and Microsoft Outlook (on both the Mac OS X and Windows platforms). Whereas Nokia allows the entire PIM synchronization to happen between 5 widely used PIM software on Windows, as well as PIM software on Mac OS X via its iSync synchronization software.

3. Tethering: Sure, the iPhone OS version 3 offered tethering, but the damning part here is that it allows the carrier to decide whether to offer this or not. Why can't I buy an unsubsidized iPhone that comes with tethering enabled? Sure, blame the carrier. But once the AT&T exclusivity deal is over, what's to prevent Apple from going to another carrier for exclusivity, and thus leaving that option to the carrier as well? I'll believe wide open tethering when I see this available.

Furthermore, the kind of tethering the iPhone is capable of is strictly the use of the iPhone as a modem while connected to a computer. What about the kind of tethering where you can use your PC while connected to the iPhone to read and send SMS (aka text messages)? If I'm at work or home and sitting in front of my PC, I don't want to have to pick up my phone to type out a reply message when I receive an SMS. I'd rather do it all using my computer, using the keyboard I am already in the middle of using!

4. Battery: No matter the technology or device, I have always been wary of companies who are not forthcoming with their battery capacity details. In fact, these companies prefer to hide behind ratings such as Watt-Hours (WHr) and specs that cannot be achieved in real world tests such as X hours of talk time, which are usually estimates if everything else is off other than talking. It has been universally accepted since the invention of batteries in the nineteenth century that battery capacity is measured in ampere-hour (Ah), or milliampere-hour (mAh) for smaller batteries. Apple chose not to disclose their battery capacity, and worse, chose not to allow customers to replace the battery on their own! If the battery of the iPhone reached its end of life prematurely, you have to go without an iPhone for a period of time while your iPhone is being serviced. In today's day and age, and the reliance on cell phones as mission critical to life itself, who wants to be without a phone for days? Worse, if your iPhone battery dies out of warranty, you are either forced to buy another iPhone, or pay an exorbitant amount of money to replace the battery, which may not be a brand new one anyway!

5. Custom Ringtone: Even dumphones for years allow you to select any music file you have on the phone to be a ring tone. For the iPhone, custom ringtone was not a feature until a subsequent update to the OS. But when it became available, you had to pay for it. And not only that, it was an arduous process. You can't just go to your music library or player on the phone, and just select it as a ringtone. No, you either have to pay for it from iTunes, use a third party application or Garage Band, or use a 17-step procedure using iTunes. WTF?!?

6. Useless Camera: Granted, I'll give the iPhone engineers kudos for doing a great job of using software to optimize picture quality without the aid of a flash in dark surroundings. That is in itself a feat that needs recognition. But seriously, no flash? While manufacturers of both dumb and smartphones have evolved from including a bland flash to double flash to LED flash to now Xenon flash, Apple has yet to include even a flash! Now, to be fair, the recent discovery of a 4th generation prototype of the iPhone has a flash, so this may not be a total lost cause. But two questions still remain: 1) What kind of a flash will be included, and 2) What kind of a camera lens will be utilized? Am I going to hear that it will just have regular flash bulb instead of LED or Xenon because of fear of battery drain?

7. iPhone Premium Tax: This is technically a non-issue now, but still affects a large group of customers. And for all practical purposes, it is of no fault of Apple. For users of iPhone, not just limited in the United States, customers are forced to pay more for their data plan to the tune of up to double the price of a similar unlimited data plan. Sure, you can blame AT&T, but once the exclusivity contract ends, what's to prevent subsequent carriers from assessing this? It is now a non-issue, since AT&T has began adopting the same double charge of unlimited data plan for all phones designated at its discretion as a smartphone, if purchased from AT&T. But for customers like me, who have fulfilled my contract obligation and paying month to month, I can still buy any unsubsidized phone and retain my lower monthly unlimited data cost.

In summary, even with the numerous improvements made by Apple on its iPhone hardware and OS, none of the improvements are compelling enough for me to accept the iPhone. Don't get me wrong, the iPhone's UI is arguably the best out there as far as cellular phones go, but it's like a beautifully decorated cake with no real nutrition in it. At the end of the day, you're left with a cellular phone that makes pretty graphics and transitions and much to be desired when it comes to functionalities.

Sure, if all I wanted was a cellular phone, the iPhone will fit the bill and more. But as a smartphone? It is nothing but an overpriced cellular phone that isn't smart enough. Which brings us to the point of my title: What Constitutes a Smartphone?

It is important to note that there is no industry standard in defining what a smartphone should be. But a general consensus is that a smartphone should offer advanced capabilities with computer-like functionalities. And in my point of view, a smartphone should offer said advanced capabilities that can help users work smarter, not harder. And a smartphone should be a good converging device, for a device that only offers phone calling capabilities alone hardly can be considered a smartphone. Because, how much more advanced can you do turn a phone if not for other capabilities?

Having said that, here are my reasons why I consider the iPhone a semi-smartphone:
1. How can the iPhone be a smartphone if it cannot perform the full duties of a standard PIM synchronization? A cellular phone in itself is a holder of many personal information, and by extension, it should be able to seamlessly synchronize your personal information with whatever PIM software you choose. Granted, the latest iPhone OS allows wireless synchronization using Microsoft's ActiveSync technology, but that relies on the fact that you rely on the Internet for PIM storage. A good portion of technology users still rely on their PIM software on their own computer for all important and private information. Not many are willing to fully utilize free sites like Gmail and Google Calendar for their truly private information. And for those who rely on Microsoft's ActiveSync technology on the iPhone with their corporate PIM server, not many are willing to place personal information on their work servers.

2. A smartphone must be one where its basic core functionality as a phone is portable and usable no matter the situation. The solution for this has been created and accepted for years, in the form of Bluetooth's HFP profile where the smartphone can be used for hands free driving. If this technology is widely used for years, and universally adopted, why does Apple who already includes the hardware technology restrict such adoption via its own OS software? I see so many iPhone users in cities like mine where talking while holding the phone is illegal use their earphones for phone conversation! Maybe if these drivers used just one earphone instead of both, I would feel safer. A smartphone is one which seamlessly integrates into the publicly adopted technology and exploits it, not restricts it.

3. A smartphone, given its ability to perform more than one functionality should allow its user to use multiple said functionalities simultaneously without restrictions. In this day and age where multithreading is widely used in many technologies, it does not make sense to put a powerful workhorse of an iPhone into a single threaded device. Sure, the latest iPhone OS version 4 may support pseudo multitasking, but I don't think it is enough.

4. Likewise, a smartphone should be a device that is able to perform advanced functionalities of other smartphones created and widely adopted before it. The iPhone raises the benchmark for UI, but strangely lowers the benchmark on other functionalities which are widely adopted as core functionalities of smartphones and even some dumbphones. A smartphone should always evolve forward, not backwards. All other smartphones, be it the Nokia, RIM or Android, are still evolving forward, despite a few of their own fallings. But at least they're evolving forwards, not backwards.

5. A smartphone with its advanced operating system should let its user decide what application he/she deems useful. If the application is poorly written, so be it. Let the free development world decide what application should flourish and which should fail, based on customer experience. A smartphone should not be a closed ecosystem where the application for such platform is subject to the phone manufacturer's purview. If the argument is made that such restrictions are required to protect laypeople using said device, then by essence the device is no longer a smartphone, as it caters to non-technical people.

The same argument can be made for BMW 7 customers: If you're not technologically savvy, don't get the iDrive system option! Either do not offer the advanced iDrive system as an option for the benefit of laypeople, or offer it and call it an advanced car control system and let the customers who chose it accept it with all its inherent learning curve. A smartphone is a device with advanced capabilities that are not meant to be picked up without any learning curve. If advanced capabilities are removed for fear of customers' inability to learn, then don't call the reduced device a smartphone.

Having said all that, I suspect that the day I will finally own an iPhone will be the day Apple comes out with iPhone OS version 8, or 20. And even then, I just may not get the iPhone simply for the fact that I cannot replace my own battery. But stay tuned to this blog for years, and we'll see if I end up converting to the iPhone, or abandon my love affair for the Symbian operating system and choose something else like the WebOS or Android.

Toyota's Denials May Be Its Own Worst Enemy

2010-03-19T20:41:00.005-05:00

I have a friend who is employed by Toyota, and I regard him as one of the greatest persons I have ever met. It is no secret that he is also a huge Toyota fan. And so am I. Or was. But I fear I may have jeopardized my friendship with this guy because I publicly, via Facebook commentaries, asked him to think logically for himself, given the facts that cannot be denied, instead of going along with the PR spin that Toyota provides to the public. My goal was to share the little-known facts that have been overshadowed by poor journalism (one extreme) and Toyota PR spins (other extreme), that are irrefutable, and have him and the readers think for themselves. Alas, my goal just ended up costing me a friendship, with the facts simply lost in translation.

I am not here to claim that I know what is wrong, but I know for a fact that Toyota is not being fully honest with the public. I am not asking Toyota to accept blame for anything. I just want Toyota to commit to the public, especially its customers, that it will spend all its resources to investigate every possible root causes of unintended acceleration issues. But that is exactly what Toyota isn't doing, at least publicly.

So, why am I so passionately and emotionally attached to this issue? I have many family members who drive Toyota vehicles. And that includes my one and only little sister, who drives an Avalon along with my parents' first grandchild. But unlike most people in the public who read just tidbits of information, or fall prey to bad and/or sensationalized news reporting, I, as a man of science and logic, prefer to look at the concrete facts and remain objective.

Thus, here I am. With a blog entry that is a bit off the usual path of being funny, and out of hiatus.

Now, keep in mind, I will only present facts without any emotional exaggeration or sensationalized news reporting that may have breached journalistic ethical standards by my books. And there are simply too many stupid people out there who want their 15 minutes of fame (i.e. James Sikes), or worse, a piece of the potential money they think they can erroneously and/or greedily profit from frivolous lawsuits (or thinking about filing).

Why do I say or think that there are those who have the wrong intentions? For all manufactured cars for model years 2005 to 2010, up till September 30, 2009, Toyota had on average 4.81 complaints per 100,000 vehicles sold for unintended acceleration. Ford had 3.12. After the recorded 911 call detailing the fatal crash of a 2009 Lexus ES was released on September 10, 2009, the nation went into panic mode with the help of media blitz on the story. And coincidentally, including data from September 30, 2009 through Febuary 3, 2010, the number almost doubled to a staggering 9.75 complaints per 100,000 vehicles sold. (Source: Washington Post, Mar. 11, 2010; from data by Edmonds and NHTSA.) It is possible that part of the uptick may be legitimate complaints, but statistically speaking, it is unlikely that all the increased cases are truly legitimate.

So where to begin? Let's start with the background information, and go through the facts chronologically.

This all started with the tragic news of a fiery and fatal crash of a Lexus ES vehicle involving the family of Mark Saylor, a California Highway Patrol officer, in San Diego on that fateful August 28, 2009. After much speculations and investigations, it was later discovered that the root cause of the uncontrolled Lexus was due to the installation of an all-weather floor mat designed for a Lexus SUV.

That discovery, plus the many complaints Toyota received regarding what Toyota called "pedal entrapment," resulted in Toyota announcing in September 29, 2009 that it will recall 3.8 million U.S. vehicles due to floor mat problems causing the accelerator to get stuck. It is important to note that the company from this moment on began insisting that there is no "vehicle-based cause" for unintended acceleration problems.

But news reports suggested that there may be other causes besides the floor mat. I was at first critical of this, as I myself have been a victim of a stuck accelerator pedal due to my floor mat at least three separate incidents that I distinctly remember: once in my Acura Integra LS, once in my Mitsubishi Eclipse GT and once in my Subaru Legacy GT. In all instances, it was all due to the floor mat being loose and not properly secured. Incidentally, they all occurred after taking the car to my local car wash. Thankfully, nothing serious happened, as two of the incidents happened while driving off the car wash lot, and once while on Interstate 44.

As late as November 2, 2009, Toyota issued a video press release from Bob Daly, Toyota Motor Sales Senior Vice President. In this video, as a Toyota representative, he claimed that "it's important to know that no defect exists, in vehicles in which the driver side floor mat is compatible with the vehicle and properly secured." The whole video was basically a denial of any other sources of problem for unintended acceleration problem. Absent of any other concrete evidence, I believed and defended Toyota.

Suddenly, on January 21, 2010, Toyota announced another recall to fix another problem of unintended acceleration that could cause accelerator pedals to get stuck even without the presence of floor mats. This really caught me by surprise, because Toyota had long insisted the problem with unintended acceleration had always been isolated to incompatible floor mats only. After studying the recall facts, it turned out that some accelerator pedals may get stuck in a depressed position due to a sticky assembly. By this time, I felt slightly betrayed, as I had believed and defended Toyota. Why did Toyota go to great lengths to insist that there are no other problems besides the issue with incompatible or improperly secured floor mats, only to suddenly announce this second recall with a fix?

Despite my slight feelings of betrayal, it made me realize that Toyota must have continued digging deeper behind the scenes. If I was running Toyota, I would not have made so many steadfast denials, just to later swallow the claims and issue another recall. But what do I know about running a company? In any case, I thought that was it.

Then came reports later of an incident that happened on December 28, 2009. Kevin Haggerty of Pittstown, New Jersey, encountered an unintended acceleration situation on Interstate 78 with his 2007 Toyota Avalon. Fortunately, he was able to pull over safely by putting his vehicle into neutral. But his story is unique. When he safely pulled over, he inspected the accelerator pedal and found that it was not trapped by the floor mat. In fact, the accelerator pedal was not stuck in any position, but in its neutral and starting position. But the strangest part of the incident was that while the accelerator pedal was not stuck, the engine continued to rev as if the accelerator was depressed.

Mr. Haggerty called the service manager of the Muller Toyota dealership, and drove his Avalon there by constantly switching between neutral and drive positions of his transmission. Once there, the service manager test drove, inspected and confirmed the problem. In this case, Toyota technicians later instructed the service manager to replace the accelerator assembly, accelerator body and electronic sensors.

Now, this incident seriously caught my attention. Any person capable of getting out of an unintended acceleration situation is obviously one who thinks, and probably credible. Never mind his credibility; what sealed the deal for me was the confirmation made by the service manager of the Muller Toyota dealership. As a person of science and logic, I was convinced without a shadow of a doubt that the floor mat and sticky accelerator pedal were both not the root causes of this particular incident.

But Toyota kept on insisting that other than the two recalls, no other defects exist. To this, with the sting of betrayal still fresh in my mind, I became skeptical and critical of Toyota. Knowing what happened to Mr. Haggerty, how can one logically and reasonably expect to believe Toyota's insistence, given that Mr. Haggerty's Avalon suffered neither condition described in the two safety recalls?

On February 23, 2010, Jim Lentz, President and Chief Operating Officer of Toyota Motor Sales, went before the House Commerce Committee for a Congressional hearing on this serious safety issue. In his prepared statement, under oath, Mr. Lentz said, "Our engineers have identified two specific, mechanical causes of unintended acceleration covered by the recalls and we are currently addressing these through the open recalls. One involves floor mats that when loose or improperly fitted can entrap the accelerator pedal. The other concerns accelerator pedals that can, over time, grow 'sticky' with wear. The solutions we have developed are both effective and durable.

"We are confident that no problems exist with the electronic throttle control system in our vehicles. We have designed our electronic throttle control system with multiple fail‐safe mechanisms to shut off or reduce engine power in the event of a system failure. We have done extensive testing of this system and have never found a malfunction that caused unintended acceleration."
(Source: http://pressroom.toyota.com/pr/tms/document/Lentz_Testimony_to_House_Committee_on_Energy_and_Commerce.pdf)

From my point of view, this prepared statement made clear that Toyota is using the very same stance that no other issues exist, including the possibility of a defect in the electronic systems or anything else. But one has to think about the December 28 incident involving Mr. Haggerty's is at the very least unexplainable, and at the very minimum deserved further investigation. Toyota, at least since the beginning of 2010, knew of this very incident that absolutely cannot be attributed to driver error or any of the causes covered by the two recalls.

What is even more amazing is the little known fact that Mr. Haggerty was also called to testify in the very same Congressional hearing as Mr. Lentz! Under oath, Mr. Haggerty testified to the incident that happened to his Toyota Avalon. Anyone should be aware that falsifying testimony under oath in Congress carries a serious and heavy fine and imprisonment. So for now, even without Muller Toyota service manager's witnessing of the situation, I am going to say that Mr. Haggerty is a credible person.

But it gets even better. After Mr. Lentz's testimony, during the questioning portion of the hearing, the below exchange occurred.
Representative Henry Waxman, Chairman of Energy & Commerce Committee: "Do you believe that the recall on the carpet changes and the recall on the sticky pedal will solve the problem of sudden unintended acceleration?"
James Lentz: "Not totally."
Waxman: "What do you need to do?"
Lentz: "We need to continue to be vigilant and continue to investigate all of the complaints that we get from consumers that we have done a relatively poor job of doing in the past."
(Source of transcript: http://www.pbs.org/nbr/site/onair/transcripts/nbr_transcripts_100223/)

When I heard and read that in the news, I was ecstatic. Finally, an honest and logical man who said the magic words I was waiting to hear all this time. For a moment, the President and Chief Operating Officer of Toyota Motor Sales was my hero.

Sadly, this glimmer of hope did not last long, because on February 24, 2010, the day after the Congressional hearing, Toyota issued the following statement of "clarification" to the media: "Contrary to some press reports, Jim Lentz's testimony to Congress did not reflect a change in Toyota's position regarding its recalls effectively address unintended acceleration issues in certain Toyota and Lexus vehicles." (Source: http://abcnews.go.com/Blotter/RunawayToyotas/toyota-testimony-lost-translation/story?id=9931007)

Now, we're back to square one. Or square two. Basically back to denial. The first denial made me feel betrayed. This additional denial in similar fashion to the first one was just downright insulting. Not to mention that Mr. Lentz was made to look like a fool, for which I felt sorry for him. Meanwhile, Toyota is not making official statements regarding Mr. Haggerty's incident. And I blame this on the clutter of other unfortunate events that the media seemed to jump onto, such as the faulty experiment made by Professor David Gilbert and the runaway Prius involving James Sikes. With images of such "horrific" incident and the sensational spin on the events by the media, the bottom line situation just gets muddier. I am sure Toyota is happy to have a distraction from Mr. Haggerty's situation and spend all the press time on rebutting Professor Gilbert and Sikes, which is rightly so. But Toyota should also spend some time to address Mr. Haggerty's situation.

It is important to note that as of the first week of March, 2010, Toyota has received verifiable confirmation from the U.S. Department of Transportation of reports of unintended acceleration issues from owners who have had the two recalls applied to their vehicles. Yet, Toyota still maintains that there are no problems with the electronic systems and that the two recalls are the effective remedies to unintended acceleration problems. (Source: http://www.thesunchronicle.com/articles/2010/03/07/news/7050083.txt)

What I find interesting about all this is the fact that Toyota has claimed publicly and repeatedly that there are no problems with the electronic control system in Toyota vehicles. Yet, in a letter dated March 1, 2010 to the NHTSA, (later revealed on NHTSA website on March 17, 2010), Toyota wanted to meet with safety regulators to discuss about a potential fix to a problem with the electronic control unit of about 1.2 million Corolla and Matrix models. (Source: http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE62H08G20100318)

Granted, the aforementioned problem is unrelated to sudden unintended acceleration, but what is important to note here is that for months, Toyota has claimed that the electronic control system has been vigorously tested, and neither Toyota nor the NHTSA has found problems with it. In fact, Toyota claimed that no defects exist with their electronic control systems. Yet suddenly, we learn that it is possible that the faultless electronic system may have a defect after all?

In my point of view, all these denials of other possible problems are only hurting Toyota's image and reputation. What I don't understand is why isn't Toyota willing to simply commit to look into complaints and problems, instead of simply blaming driver error and being overzealous in claiming complete resolution of problems when additional sources of cause pop up later?

Toyota is not a company I want to see seriously set back like what happened to Suzuki and Audi in the past. But I can't help but wonder if Toyota's continuation of its current corporate attitude and stance will only contribute to its own demise or serious setback. I seriously hope that while publicly denying other possible root causes with the unintended acceleration problems, probably for legal protection purposes, Toyota is secretly investigating everything possible much like they did with the sticky pedals after publicly claiming no other vehicle-based defects exist other than the floor mats.

Although Toyota's corporate character will forever be tainted, I just secretly hope that in time, Toyota will provide all the necessary and truly complete fixes that will keep my family safe.

There is absolutely no doubt that there is no logic in Asia

2009-11-10T19:18:00.004-06:00

I'm usually pretty good about vetting my friends. I usually ensure they're generally good people who carry no bigotry and share my view of the world in general. Otherwise, they're just acquaintances to me, or simply people I don't care.

So what brought this topic to light? Well, this morning, a 'friend' of mine posted a status that was pretty usual. She's someone who has been living in Vietnam. LiHd* wrote on her Facebook status: LiHd might be incommunicado via Facebook soon if Uncle Ho decides to block it.

And below are the comments that entailed throughout the day... Anything in smaller fonts just means that they're insignificant to the blog topic.

JeHa: oh brother! C'mon Nam! Get with this century! What's the reasoning behind this one? Oh nevermind, When in Asia, don't ask why.

LiHd: exactly. i have heard it from a couple of sources but who knows!! no logic, no logic, no logic...

LiHd's friend #1: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

LiHd's friend #2: What?

LiHd's friend #3: good ol' uncle Ho.

LiHd's friend #4: One thing I learned after living in China is that no matter how much the government tries to block something, there's always a way to get around it using a proxy. I'll help you out with that if Uncle Ho decides to block facebook.

LiHd's friend #5: Oh noes! Say it ain't so, Uncle Ho!

LiHd's relative #1: nothing better then the good old US of A.....and Facebook!

VaHa: Yikes. keep me posted

LiHd's friend #6: I keep hearing this ... when will this happen?

John Ho: Just wanna throw this out there... Asia includes many other countries like India, China, Indonesia, Taiwan, Thailand and Japan. Most Asian countries don't have censorship, except for China or North Korea. So let's not categorically put Asia together into a place of illogical decision making. And as with the century thing, you do realize that Japan, Great Britain and South Korea are far more advanced than the United States, right? Not only that, the ol' US of A is the only advanced civilization to preach human rights but at the same time manages to enjoy prosecuting those under 18 as an adult, which all other G20 or EU countries condemn as inhumane. C'mon, USA! Get with the freaking times! And let's not forget, it is 2009 and we had Judge Keith Bardwell who will not marry interracial couples in the USA.

But then again, if another "normal" American at a bar here in the US asks me if I also speak Asian after telling him/her that I speak Mandarin, then I'll totally take my entire first paragraph back! =)

LiHd's friend #7: let us know if there is another way to keep you in the loop here...lol..as if there is anything to happen exciting..but i must tell you went to cinci for a conference and went to see uncle bill a and aunt janet...and they live less than a mile from NKU!!!

LiHd: jho...again you missed the point

everyone else: so far they are only rumors that i have been hearing from students...i am not sure if or when this will happen. but if you don't hear from me for a while on fb, that's most likely why.

LiHd's relative #1: i would be lost without my fb....and my business would most likely cease to exist...

John Ho: I was more directing that comment at JeHa's comment when she wrote: "Get with this century! What's the reasoning behind this one? Oh nevermind, When in Asia, don't ask why."

LiHd's friend #8: oh no, that sucks. Well, if I go to Seoul you can come visit me and use my interwebs :)

LiHd: jho: it's because we have both lived in asia for a bit of time; i am in my third year and JeHa was here last year and is in malaysia this year...there is absolutely no doubt that there is no logic on this continent. if you start to apply logic or ask questions it only confuses the issue more.

LiHd's friend #8: you never gave me the 411 on your move to seoul!! when are you leaving? where are you teaching?

John Ho: Let me get this straight... Asia is one of the biggest continents comprising of so many different countries and more distinct cultures than there are number of countries. And because of the illogical experiences you two have encountered in a few countries, you can categorically say Asia as a whole has no logic. I'd like to see you and your friend tell that to a Japanese or Taiwanese or Singaporean citizen. Hmm... I'm glad you're not letting your education get in the way of your ignorance.

VaHa: 9 years in Asia. Agree with the gals.

LiHd, I read a bit about it. Something was said in August and some people reported FB blocked then.

LiHd's friend #8: LiHd, I don't know yet. First up: try to sell my condo. As soon as that happens, I will decide where I go. It may depend on the time of year and how much I get for the condo.
I will def. let you know where I wind up, esp of it is Korea.

LiHd: jho: i am speaking from experience, you are speaking from the point of view of someone who only comes here on vacation or business. why are you insulting my intelligence?? ridiculous and almost unforgivable comment on your end.

John Ho: Maybe you didn't know this, but I was not born in the US. I didn't even come here till 1996. I have lived in five Asian countries while growing up. Not on business or vacation. And I renounced not one, but two previous Asian citizenship when I became naturalized in the US.

Just so you know, there are 47 countries in the Asian continent. How many of the 47 countries have your friend and yourself gone to, to make such a generalized statement about Asia? Even I, who have lived in more Asian countries and longer than you, would not dare make such a statement such as your friend Jennifer's or yours.

I was not insulting your intelligence. Your blanket statements did.

----------########## END TRANSCRIPT ##########----------

So after all that, I was going to remove this ignorant friend of mine from my Facebook, and you know what? She saved me the trouble! Now I don't have to worry about the guilt of "Was I too harsh on my friend when I removed her from Facebook?"

Simply put, if anything, I was more shocked than anything that someone who I thought I have known for almost five years can have such a narrow-minded viewpoint. As a friend of mine who was following the whole chit-chat wrote over instant message: "most ppl tend to compare new experiences with things that they are used to; any deviation from it, they consider 'illogical'; especially for those not so open-minded fools" [sic]

True that!

* Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Check and Mate?

2009-09-25T13:24:00.001-05:00

Yeah, I haven't updated my blog for a while. It's mostly because since joining Facebook, I've been using the status updates to write tidbits of my thoughts more often. It is so much easier, since I'm limited in length as to what I have to share, and blogging, well, takes so much more time and energy.

Anyway, this post is a relatively easy one, because it's mostly a copy-and-paste job. On Wednesday, both a Facebook friend and I found out about this horrendous news regarding a raid on a dog fighting ring here in Chicago. I posted a status update, as usual, with a funny twist: "John Ho just learned that we have an 'Animal Crimes Unit' here in Chicago!!! When is NBC going to add Law & Order: ACU?!?"

My Facebook friend also posted something related to this a few minutes later. And from there, a heated discussion ensued in the comments section, which I have detailed here below. Of course, names have been changed to protect the strange.

Status update @ Wed at 1:54pm:
Daniella just found out that police busted another dog fighting ring in the Chicago area. I'm really starting to hate people - how can you be so cruel to an animal?

Following below are comments on said Facebook status update:

Daniella's Friend #1 @ Wed at 2:00pm: boooooo!

John Ho @ Wed at 2:05pm: It wasn't just an animal. 9 dogs!!! They even used 4 puppies barely a month old as bait for the fighting! And it wasn't just a house, but the neighbor next to the day care is also in on it, because they found a modified treadmill used strictly to train fight dogs! Disgusting what people can do, huh?

Daniella's Friend #2 @ Wed at 2:10pm: The guff was empty the day they were born. First dogs, then people!!!

Daniella's Friend #3 @ Wed at 2:10pm: They should put the culprits between two angry pits that don't know who they are as punishment and see what it feels like to be torn apart!

Daniella's Friend #4 @ Wed at 3:10pm: i have a pit. sweetest, most loving (and intelligent) dog i have ever owned. a dogs character is that of the owner. most fighting pits are intentionaly inbred so they are born all eff'd up. the others you hear about attacking have ignorant, dumb ass owners. furthermore, you never hear about other breeds who attack, which happens all the time. ... Read Moreonly pits...the media, as usual, warp the reality for shock value. pits have a bad rep. on a related note...michael vick should still be in prison much less on a football field! he killed his dogs my hanging, drowning and slitting there throats. hes a piece of shit as a human being...hes evil. theres my rant of the day! lol

John Ho @ Wed at 7:52pm: So what I'm understanding here is that even after someone has paid his/her dues for the crimes he/she commits, it's still not enough? Sure, Vick did something that is very detestable in my books, but he served his time. Why are people still harping on that? Sounds to me like even after someone has paid his/her due for a given crime, you simply can't forgive. Nobody is perfect. But he did his time for his crime. Let's just get over it. For otherwise, capital punishment would be in place for every petty crime, including the kid who steals $2.

Mutual Friend #1 @ Wed at 7:52pm: How can people be so cruel to other people?

Daniella's Friend #5 @ Wed at 8:23pm: What John said!

Daniella's Friend #6 @ Wed at 8:47pm: Hate people? Wow. How 'bout hate people's behaviors? Ya, it's pretty disgusting what things are done.

Daniella @ Thu at 9:09am: John - Vick didn't serve time for animal cruelty, he served time for federal racketeering. I don't care if this makes me sound like the biggest bitch, but if someone kills another living being, they should not be able to go back to their cushy NFL job. He sucks as a QB anyway...

Daniella @ Thu at 9:09am: And I just realized that my above statement doesn't make me sound like too much of a bitch - but sorry, yes I hate certain people AND their behaviors. He's a piece of shit.

John Ho @ Thu at 9:19am: Then you're a mass murderer! Think about the number of living beings you have killed every time you killed a bug, or poisoned a bug with bug sprays, etc. Think of how many living things you have killed when you de-worm your dog. ;-) In some religions, that is considered bad, because whether it's a bug, fly, or whatever, anything that is a living thing has a soul. Think about that...

Daniella @ Thu at 9:34am: Wow, really reaching for an argument aren't you?

Daniella's Friend #4 @ Thu at 10:10am: bugs??? holy hell. soft, bleeding hearts. some sick rapist kidnaps your child, rapes then murders them? lets see how forgiving you are then. There are white souls, grey souls & black souls in this life. The black souls are just shells, their job, unbeknowest to them, is to try and smother the light of the others...the good in this world. They bring anxiety, depression & anger into our lives when they are near us - like moths to a flame. There IS evil in this world, and punishment is justifiable. When it comes to evil, they are NOT our equals! If I would get a DUI, my time would be much longer than Vicks. If it was I who did what he did, rest assured, I would still be in prison. Who gives a fuck hes an nfl player. Our society is so addicted to celebrity its sick...this countries ablility to turn a blind eye to cruelity and immoral behavior by these assholes amazes me. again...bugs?!?!? come on man

Daniella's Friend #4 @ Thu at 10:16am: by the way daniella...you dont sound like a bitch. you sound like someone who'e passionate about their convictions and beliefs...

John Ho @ Thu at 10:26am: Nope, not reaching for an argument. Just using your argument, that's all.

Hey, I'm not saying that when I'm a victim, I will have the mentality to keep things in perspective. If my child is raped and murdered, I can't say for sure that I'll let the judicial system work it out for me. But I also can't say for sure that I'll just go grab a shotgun and kill the rapist in the courtroom. I won't know what I'll do until it hits me directly.

But for now, I'm taking the route of letting the judicial system work its way out. We all have an opinion. Your opinion is that there's nothing he can do to return to his "cushy" job. My opinion is that he served time, and he is working extra hard to use this experience to talk to kids and others in the public community to discourage animal cruelty and dog fighting. I think, in my opinion, that this is good. Learning to forgive is not easy, but worth a damn. Hating forever, well, is kinda sad.

Daniella @ Thu at 11:12am: A) Once again he did not serve his time for animal cruelty. B) The talking to kids about what he did thing is the biggest piece of PR bs I’ve ever heard of. C) I’m a huge supporter of rescue organizations,and the things I hear about what people have done to dogs, cats, etc is enough to, yes, make me hate other human beings. I’m sorry, but I just can’t forgive the guy for what he, and so many other subhumans like him, have done. Forgiveness is not easy in my book and if that makes me a sad person, then so be it. It’s not sad to have a passion or have convictions, sorry. We’re just going to agree to disagree I guess. I’ll make sure to hug my dog, who was starved, dehydrated and living in filthy conditions for a year extra tight for you tonight, John.

John Ho @ Thu at 3:40pm: Good for you for rescuing your dog. We need more people like you.

But let's make the facts clear. In federal criminal case number 3:07CR274, he is indicted for dog fighting, including the money, gambling, transportation and animal cruelty aspects of dog fighting. And on August 24, 2007, he pleaded guilty to all charges, and the judge sentenced him (which, by the way, exceeded the sentencing guidelines). So I'm not quite sure where you got the fact that he did not serve his time for animal cruelty.

Here's the indictment document: http://news.findlaw.com/cnn/docs/sports/usvick71707ind.html
Here's the plea agreement document: http://news.findlaw.com/wp/docs/sports/usvick82407plea.html

Let's not forget that double jeopardy doesn't apply in the state of VA when it comes to charges coming from state prosecution. So he also pleaded guilty there and paid his dues as well on state level.

John Ho [cont'd from above because Facebook has a text limit]: Dog fighting is an underground activity that, unfortunately, is more widespread than ever. Not only is the "sport" itself cruel, but it is often tied to other vices, like gambling, gangs and criminal activities. It is a sad, sad thing that despite tougher laws enacted, this activity still continues.

You have to look at the silver lining though. Without the NFL's most highly paid player's case in the matter, dog fighting as a public issue would not have gotten such attention and awareness. And on top of that, Michael Vick not only apologizes and has paid his dues to society, but he is working with the Humane Society in speaking against the "sport." Because of this, more police officers than ever have elected to get special law enforcement training related to animal cruelty.

Even after all the good that can come out of him, you still can't forgive? The Humane Society has. Let's focus on the positive outcome of this so that more dog fights can be stopped with his message.

Just Some Sunday Thought...

2009-04-12T20:41:00.000-05:00

please be philosophical please be tapped into your femininity please be able to take the wheel from me please be crazy and curious papa love your princess so that she will find loving princes familiar papa cry for your princess so that she will find gentle princes familiar please be a sexaholic please be unpredictably miserable please be self absorbed much (not the good kind) please be addicted to some substance papa listen to your princess so that she will find attentive princes familiar papa hear your princess so that she will find curious princes familiar please be the jerk of my knee I've fit you always you finish my sentences I think I love you what is your name again no matter i'm guessing your thoughts again correctly and I love the way you press my buttons so much sometimes I could strangle you papa laugh with your princess so that she will find funny princes familiar papa respect your princess so that she will find respectful princes familiar papa love your princess so that she will find loving prices familiar papa cry for your princess so that she will find gentle princes familiar please be strangely enigmatic please be just like my

The Name's Müller. John Müller.

2009-04-10T14:54:00.001-05:00

Friends, I am livid. Very much so! It has only been 77 days since the first black person was sworn in as the President of the United States and some Texas lawmaker unwound the progress made in minority acceptance. And that Texas lawmaker is no other than Betty Brown, a Republican State Representative.

Representative Betty Brown, during a House testimony on voter identification legislation while questioning Ramey Ko, suggested that Asian-Americans should change their names because they're hard to pronounce.

"Rather than everyone here having to learn Chinese--I understand it's a rather difficult language--do you think that it would behoove you and your citizens to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here?"
...and later added...
"Can't you see that this is something that would make it a lot easier for you and the people who are poll workers if you could adopt a name just for identification purposes that's easier for Americans to deal with?"

What the...?!?

Let's frame this discussion in the proper light. This question was posed to an Asian American, just like me, who is an American citizen. So, what is up with the "you and your citizens" and "we" separation? Clearly, Rep. Brown has some sort of an inclination towards racial divide, for otherwise she in her mind wouldn't dare use such divisive language. Can you imagine if someone you know tells a Hispanic hired help, "Why don't you people learn more English?"

Now, let's look at the context of the discussion: House testimony on voter identification legislation. Key word on identification.

I'm sure you have heard jokes about going through phonebooks and complaining about how everyone is a "Chang" or "Wong," right? Well, let's flip that around. Have you ever tried looking up someone in the phonebook who is either a "Smith" or "Brown," and how thick that section is? Right...

Let's say, for the sake of argument, poll workers truly have a hard time identifying Americans of Asian descent. And for the expressed goal, all Asian Americans will change their surnames to something like "Smith" or "Brown." Now, do you honestly think that it is easier to identify people at polling stations? Instead of lines for last names beginning with "A-H," "I-P," and "Q-Z," they probably will have to have a line just for "Smith," another for "Brown", and finally a line for "Others."

So really, is it truly "easier?" I don't know, but I'd like to ask poll workers what they think about living in a district where there were many Smiths in the community...

Finally, there's the whole "American" thing. Apparently, for Rep. Brown, an American is defined as someone who is either Caucasian, or someone who has a Caucasian surname. Otherwise, anybody else is not an American. I mean, she addressed the question to an American who happened to be not white, and addressed him as if he wasn't an American!

Like I said, I am livid. Just for that, I might consider changing my surname from "Ho" to "Müller." I mean, it should be easier to pronounce, right? But good luck to the poll workers in trying to write that down correctly, cos you don't want to confuse "John Müller" with "John Mueller" or "John Muller," with the latter two being bastardized by the immigration officer at Ellis Island who didn't know "ü". Maybe Betty Brown is related to those uneducated immigration officers?

Come to think of it... Isn't "Brown" the bastardized version of "Braun"?!?

Anyway, if you are a Texan and find this extremely offensive, voice your complaint to the ignorant representative by emailing Brown. Sorry, my Texan friends, but this is yet another reason why I have a distaste for Texas...

Here are the ongoing articles regarding this dumb person: news.google.com - subject "Betty Brown"

Below is the video of the testimony uploaded by KXAN, an NBC affiliate from Austin (if you want the racial comments, fast forward to the 3:30 mark):

I Love You, AT&T! Sort of...

2009-04-03T18:24:00.001-05:00

Well… How about that? About eight minutes ago, Engadget received a statement from AT&T, stating:

The language added on March 30 to AT&T's wireless data service Terms and Conditions was done in error. It was brought to our attention and we have since removed it. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

I guess that's reason to celebrate after just posting a blog about how upset I was. But as my friend Changren pointed out, which I suspect as well, the error wasn't done by AT&T in poor judgment, but rather that the error itself was being discovered by angry users.

How the hell can you write something in error, especially when it was extremely detailed and broad, covering almost everything? Oh well, apologies accepted.

AT&T, You've Outdone Yourself!

2009-04-03T17:33:00.000-05:00

Congratulations, AT&T! You have yet outdone yourself when it comes to f**king over your customers! It was barely two years ago when you changed your terms and conditions to include a threat to suspend/terminate any customer contract if you think I engage in conduct that you believe "tends to damage the name or reputation of AT&T, or its parents, affiliates and subsidiaries."

Well, thank you very much for not terminating my service with you when I wrote that blog entry criticizing you for that s**tty terms of service. But just so you know, I'm going to criticize you yet again today.

What the f**k is wrong with you?!? Last night, you updated your Terms and Conditions, and I have beef with your 2. WIRELESS DATA SERVICE TERMS AND CONDITIONS chapter, I. 8. Prohibited and Permissible Use section, to effectively disallow "downloading movies using P2P file sharing services, customer initiated redirection of television or other video or audio signals via any technology from a fixed location to a mobile device, web broadcasting, and... any applications that tether the device... to Personal Computers or other equipment."

Seriously, no tethering, even if I don't use more bandwidth than I would otherwise normally use natively on my N95 smartphone?

Seriously, I can't install applications, such as Google Maps or Skype, since these applications are software that "maintain continuous active Internet connections" whenever I'm driving around or VoIP'ing?

Seriously, I can't set up my N95 smartphone's email client to stay connected all the time and check my email every minute?

Seriously, I can't use my N95 smartphone to take a picture, and instantly upload the picture using my "unlimited data plan" to Facebook via Mobile Uploader, or the Flickr application, because "applications, including, but not limited to, Web camera posts" are strictly prohibited?

What the f**k?!?

I love you, but I truly hate you. Really. But I'm going to continue using my N95 as I have always, and if you cut me off, I'll see you in court!

What a Shitty Weekend...

2009-03-30T02:46:00.002-05:00

Don't get me wrong. The fact that I ran a rather decent race in the Shamrock Shuffle 8K race in a nasty, cold and slushy winter storm had nothing to do with my God awful weekend. And neither did the fact that I lost my company pager during the race contribute to my shitty weekend. In fact, the race in the increment weather was probably one of the few highlights of my weekend!

It all started on Friday. There is this one person, who we shall simply call AM, who I consider a friend. More so as an acquaintance than a friend, but if asked to join her for beer, I wouldn't turn her down. Anyway, AM learned of an alumni reception event that I was attending from a mutual friend who I invited. So on Friday, AM invited herself by asking if she could tag along.

Despite having RSVP'ed already, I had to go through a couple hassles to add AM to the guest list. I figured, why not? The more the merrier. Now, mind you, I have never attended one of these alumni receptions before, so I was nervous and excited. If you know me well, you will know that I have had no qualms about attending events on my own. But this was so exciting that I actually asked a friend to tag along. Plus another one who self-invited.

Come Saturday. The event started at 17:00. My friend and I were already there by 17:15. But guess who decided to show up a quarter till 19:00? AM. This alone was not a problem whatsoever, but the problem is this. She came upstairs, sat at our table, and the first thing out of her mouth was: "The Pitt game starts at 19:00."

And so it began...

In the five minutes she was up there at the reception, she would not stop talking about the game, and wanting to get real food at the bar downstairs, despite the facts that there was plenty of munchable appetizers that were a couple cuts above other receptions, and her mentioning this when the Vice President of University Advancement who was the host of the reception was standing near our table. Worse, AM kept on talking about not wanting to miss the game, but end every statement of her wishes with, "But no rush, John."

What the f**k?!? Here was a guest, who showed up nearly two hours after the reception started, who didn't even attend Missouri State University, who invited herself without being asked, who had the audacity to enter her name in the door prize, started acting like an immature girl! Worse, AM attended neither Pittsburgh nor Villanova.

AM was so annoying, who by the way is 30 years old, that I simply told her that she should go downstairs and I would join her later. This, after trying to appease her by having the bartender turn on the TV so that the game could be viewed, followed by, "But this isn't basketball atmosphere" from her.

Oh man, what a bitch! An immature one at that, too. And sadly, this wasn't the first time AM pulled an immature act on me either.

Fast forward to Sunday. After running the wet and cold Shamrock Shuffle 8K, a few of us went to Fireside Inn for lunch. Everything was hunky dorey, and when we were done, I gave two of my friends a ride to their homes. First stop, AE.

Oh, let me interject here with a quick side note from when I picked up AE to lunch. I had asked which way to turn when we got to the end of her street, and her delayed response was, "Oh, turn right. Sorry, I'm not very good at giving timely directions." End side note.

Not knowing her neighborhood well, and she had been joking about how she only lived "a couple blocks" away from the restaurant, I kept on asking for directions on which way to go. AE started talking about "Clark-y" when we turned onto Ashland, because she thought it was Clark. She told me to cut over whenever, and I did, while she continued talking. But she neglected to tell me to turn on Clark.

Thinking that she only lived "a couple blocks" away, I thought it wouldn't hurt to go on down the side street, and turn into the alley and drive the "couple blocks" to her street. When I got through the first alley, and began to turn into the second alley, she yelled at me with, "What are you doing?!?"

Mind you, during this whole time, she did not give me any directions as to which way to turn. Turned out, now that I've looked at Google Maps, we were nine blocks away from her street!

So, after lunch, without asking, my friends got in my car, assuming I would give them a ride home. True, I was happy to do so without being asked. But I did not need to be yelled at when I was lost. Worse, after explaining that I wanted to go through the second alley to get to her street in the next block (which was really nine blocks away), she kept on yelling at me with nonsense such as, "Why did you want to turn that way," and "Well, that's not the way to go to my place." Instead of yelling, maybe she should've given me directions?

What really pissed me off was that we were driving in a car. In her neighborhood. If we had turned the wrong way, what's the worst that could happen? Take an extra 23 seconds and 0.05 miles out of my way to get to her house, right? Did it warrant the yelling, and the continued badgering like a grumpy mother who is never satisfied with her children's accomplishments of an A- grade point average?

Seriously, it was a shitty weekend. Shitty, shitty, shitty.

But I did 44:44 in the 8K race, which netted an average of 8:59 pace. Not bad after being sick and injured, and not running for a while now. At least that, I'm happy about, despite not being anywhere close to last year's 39:01 finish.

Let's hope this new week gets better.

You Think You Can Dance?

2009-03-21T15:46:00.000-05:00

Well, judging by the video, I don't know if Anna Kasprzak can dance or not, given the incomplete video. But one thing's for sure though: She definitely can't measure her sense of depth perception. Ouch...

I'm surprised that the producers of American Idol have not followed suit with such a stage design, what with the pit and all. You would think that the pit would be a great defense system against angry contestants who choose to storm towards Simon Cowell...

Robert's Rules of Order Neglected This...

2009-03-21T15:12:00.004-05:00

Not too long ago, I wrote about a close encounter of the gassy kind with my boss, and how I was utterly unprepared of the rules of conduct in such a situation. I mean, Emily Post left this one out of the books, I think.

Well... Apparently, city council members of Medina, Ohio, had a similar situation. Almost, that is. Whereas my encounter was all in private, their encounter was in public. What does Robert's Rules of Order state when someone farts in a meeting?

Click here for the news article. Below is the video recording of the council session.

So what does that say about Ohio, a former fattest state in the union? Tee hee...

A Reason Why I Hate Apple

2009-03-12T17:23:00.000-05:00

When the car was invented, one of the first interfaces between man and machine was the steering device. The original cars came with tillers, but it was quickly replaced by a steering wheel. This basic method of interface revolutionized the entire automotive industry.

Imagine if the very simple steering wheel was patented. Or worse yet, the whole concept of an adjustable direction wheels in a vehicle was patented. If that had happened, there won't be as many automotive manufacturers out there today as there are, simply because someone patented those and hampered innovation. But the means of achieving automotive steering has always been patented, such as worm and sector, recirculating ball, rack and pinion, and variable rack and pinion. In fact, if either the steering wheel or the whole concept of adjustable direction wheels were patented, all these innovative ways of doing the same thing will never come to fruition, and we will be so far behind the technological curve as it stands today.

Now, think of that analogy, and apply that to Apple's interim CEO Tim Cook and his recent hint towards possibly suing companies that produce multi-touch screens. In my point of view, that is akin to patenting the steering wheel, or the whole adjustable direction wheel concept.

Seriously? Yes, Apple can patent, as they did, how the multi-touch works, and its approach. But simply calling other companies who happened to have multi-touch behavior a rip-off? That's going slightly too far. I am pretty sure that the Palm Pre has totally different ways of achieving human-machine interaction with its multi-touch screen than Apple's iPhone, despite having the very basic conceptual idea. The same is probably true with Samsung's TouchWiz system.

I think the whole idea of calling others ripping off Apple's multi-touch system is completely out of line. If they truly believe that, then the first company who came up with gestures should sue Apple for stealing that idea. If that were the case, I'm sure Apple will fight back with something like, "Well, the logic and magic behind how it translates from physical to system interaction movement is totally different." And that would be acceptable, and Apple can rest easy.

In my analogy, the multi-touch input is the steering wheel input. The different mechanisms that allow the multi-touch in the iPhone is the underlying software, and its counterpart in the analogy is the different steering mechanisms such as the worm and sector, recirculating ball, rack and pinion, and variable rack and pinion steering methods.

Bottom line? Apple's got to stop being a greedy little bitch and stop making all these outlandish threats. If they decide to sue others for emulating multi-touch interface, albeit in different methodologies as Apple's, then I sure hope that this silly pursuit of greed will bankrupt their tight asses. (The tight asses reference will be discussed more later with another reason why I hate Apple blog entry.)

And thus my one reason why I hate Apple.

Both Emily and HR Neglected This...

2009-02-16T16:39:00.002-06:00

I don't proclaim to know everything that Emily Post had written, but I can say with 90 percent certainty that Emily Post failed to mention how to handle one particular scenario for which I desperately needed to know earlier today. And I know with a 100 percent certainty that the employee handbook didn't cover this either...

What do you do when you are greeted with a foul smelling air lingering in the restroom when all you needed to do was tingle; and while you make audible gagging sounds and hurry through your tingle, the toilet flushes in a stall and out comes someone you work with? And what do you do when you go to wash your hands and you realize it was your boss's turd aroma responsible for the stench, and he asks, "How's it going, John?" while he dries his hands with paper towels?

Do you make short little acknowledgments? Or do you try to carry a normal conversation pretending you're in his office? And do you keep eye contact at all, or focus on the lather on your hands? Or is it simply best to look at him through the mirror?

Help?

Who's the Wuss Now, Huh???

2009-02-16T15:53:00.001-06:00

2009 had been kind of strange for me so far. In a good way, that is. When I went in to renew my driver's license with the state of Illinois back in January, I thought long and hard about some of my life choices in the past while waiting in line. No, not my choice in sexual orientation, but something profoundly deeper.

For the longest time since being licensed by Pennsylvania, Missouri and Illinois, I had always left that little checkbox that read "organ donor" blank. My thought process was that if it was time for one to leave the world of the living, then it was time. Why should some doctor get to play a higher form of deity and take one of my organs to extend the life of another?

Well, suffice to say, I decided to check that "organ donor" box this past January. Change of heart? Possibly. I realized that playing a form of deity was not a problem of mine in this whole thing. I also realized that it was entirely selfish of me to take my healthy organs to the grave should I be lucky enough to become brain dead in some kind of a freak accident. (Preferably involving two hot naked chicks...)

In that same train of thought, I decided without hesitation to give blood when my company sent out an email informing us of an employee blood drive. The 10th of February is now forever sketched into my electronic calendar as the day I first gave blood for the very first time in my life.

The reading materials warning me of the gazillion reasons why I may or may not be a suitable candidate as a blood donor? No big deal. The 369 questions (or so I thought) in the questionnaire regarding my history, such as if I had ever slept with a person who received or made payment for sexual favors? Believe it or not, I actually struggled with this questionnaire. I thought, what about one night stands, and I had worn protection? Was that any less critical than being in sexual cahoots with a "person who received or made payment for sexual acts?" LOL

Okay, so I wasn't really struggling with the questionnaire, but I did chuckle to myself with ethical minefields I was conjuring up in my wickedly twisted mind. After all that hustle, I finally sat in the waiting area for a free lawn chair that looked like the ones the American Red Cross had stolen from the poolside of some imitation swanky hotel pools. Except these came with the hooks to hang your blood bag with.

As an athlete, I am always subconsciously competitive with most trivial things. I had overheard the big guy who had already started giving blood that it wasn't his first time. Again, in my twisted mind, I created a little competition to see if I could give a pint of my blood close to the time this big guy got done.

Unfortunately, the competition quickly faded because suddenly all my manhood momentarily seeped away when the nurse took out this ginormous needle with a needle hole large enough to fit a Tic Tac! "This will only sting a little," was all I could hear before I thought I was going to pass out. Remember, I'm the kind of guy who enjoys watching the needle pierce my skin and muscles. Like I said, I'm kind of twisted.

Thankfully, the sting was indeed little, even though it lasted a good second too long. And before long, I was focusing back on the competition. I don't remember how many times I must've done this, but I turned my head to look at the big man in the eyes, followed by looking deeply into his pint bag. If only I could see what he was thinking every time I did that. But soon enough, my pint bag was bursting in the seams before the big guy gave a pint. Ding Ding! I had won. In fact, I even had enough time to get the nurse to take pictures of me before the big guy finished.

As I proudly walked over to the snack table, I read over the list of things to do or not do in the five hours after giving blood. I sat down to chug two boxes of apple juice, and that's when the big guy came over. He drank some orange juice, and we both snacked away. The guy kept on sitting there, eating slowly, and taking his sweet ass time. I thought I could copy that, because what can possibly be better than to waste productivity on company initiatives, especially when free food was involved?

But before long, the moral person in me whispered in my ears, "Get your ass going! You have a couple things you have to do before you leave for work!" So I did. As I left, I snickered to myself thinking of the big guy still sitting there snacking away slowly, What a wuss! Big giant guy can't take it like a man for just a pint of blood?

Of course, after walking back hurriedly to my desk, I started feeling dizzy and wobbly. Turned out that yeah, you really need to take your time to recover after giving blood. So who was the wuss now?

Damn!

Hello, 2009!

2009-02-16T15:01:00.001-06:00

It sure has been a long time since I last updated my blog, hasn't it? To be accurate, it has been 225 days and some change since I last updated my blog. I guess it is a good thing that I am unlike most other bloggers who tried to bank on blogosphere, eh?

Admittedly, my last entry was somewhat boring in nature. I was taking a little break to go to the west coast to see my new niece and family, and since my dad had passed my blog address out, I thought it would be fitting to update family members new to my blog with a ~~diary~~ journal of sorts to highlight my father-and-son trip up and down the western seaboard.

So why did I stop writing in the midst of the trip? Well, you should know that the whole journaling during the trip was all done retroactively. So by the time I wasn't on the train anymore, I stopped writing. I mean, if you're in Seattle, would you rather go out and have fun, or stay in and write? =) As you can tell, being cooped up in a train car for days on end without much mobility really made a dent on my humorous writing. Okay, maybe I wasn't humorous, but it sure got less humorous right after I started the train ride.

By the time I got back to Chicago, I had to catch up with so many things. The most important of all, which is in the order of livelihood, not personal passion ruler, was work. August 17, 2008 was the date for which all the hard work I had been putting in ever since starting at the hospital hinged on: Go-live date. And of course, once we successfully went live on IBM servers, it was a bit of hell to take on full responsibilities for the daily operations, when pressure type changed from ensuring project progress toward maintenance so that the systems don't go down.

Next up: The 2008 Chicago Marathon training. Seeing how I had missed the first, fourth and fifth week of the marathon training for being out of town, I thought it would be best that I finally get into the thick of things. I mean, that was my first ever to volunteer as a group leader for CARA, and I had close to 30 runners I'm responsible for. And naturally, as the weeks go by, the higher the mileage of the runs. So more running meant less personal time. This in turn meant no time to blog for me.

Of course, you can ask me why I didn't get back into it once I have completed the Chicago Marathon. Well... I went and ran the Seattle Marathon afterwards, followed by falling almost deadly ill for three weeks straight. Since then, I have yet to stop my lazy ass from becoming a total couch potato.

But no more of that! It took seven weeks of 2009 for me to finally realize that I got to get my lardy ass and second-trimester belly with A-cup manboops in some sort of a shape and get back into my normal routines.

Ta-dah! Here I am! (Only because blogging is hell of a lot easier than running...)

Disclaimer: Despite declaring my return to normal routines in such a transparent media, I sure as hell am not guaranteeing that I'll eat my own boxers if I fail to update this blog as often as when I was traveling for work. =)

Day 2 of West Coast Trip (Part A)

2008-07-05T20:13:00.001-05:00

"It's cold in here!"

I slowly roused up, only to find that my cellular phone read 05:55. As I was sleeping on the top bunk with only a foot and a quarter of space to the ceiling, I slowly flipped myself around so as to avoid bumping my shoulder or hip on the ceiling and causing some unforeseen severe internal bleeding. When I successfully turned my torso to face the cabin instead of the wall, I hung my head over my bed to find my father wide awake with one of the curtains open. I asked, "What?"

"It's really cold!"

"You woke me up just to tell me that?"

"I think we're in the mountains."

Still in disbelief that my father actually woke me up to tell me it's cold, especially when his second blanket was tossed aside, I sheepishly responded, "If it's cold, why don't you cover yourself with the second blanket?" Then I tried to return to sleep. But then curiosity got the better of me. And of course, it didn't help with the curtains open either. So I fired up Google Maps on my Nokia N95. Within seconds, I got a triangulated fix on my location on the map, and surely enough, we were passing through Mt. Shasta, a little bit south of the California and Oregon border. I dipped my head to look out the window, and I saw a beautiful creek with snow-covered rocks. But like a groundhog, the sight disappeared behind the trees by the time you turned on the camera.

And of course, when you thought it was impossible, the scenic view of the creek returns the moment you shut off the camera. Urgh!!!

I tired to go back to sleep again, and my dad mumbled something. I tossed and turned, and finally looked down and said, "You know what, since there are only two of us, I don't know why you're talking but I have to assume you're talking to me, and you're keeping me awake. I might as well wake up, even if I only had four hours of sleep."

After putzing around in the stateroom and getting it prepared so that it is habitable by sitting passengers, I finally got my father to change into regular clothes. But because the Dining car did not take reservations for breakfast, we walked down there to put our name of the waiting list. But it didn't take long for us to get seated anyway, so we found ourselves having breakfast with two lovely girls.

Knowing my father doesn't have any inclination towards French toast, cold cereal or omelets, I went with the safer route by ordering scrambled eggs. I knew he loves scrambled eggs and I definitely knew that I love scrambled eggs too. But with all that anticipation, we were quickly let down when I found out that the scrambled "eggs" were nothing more than powdered eggs mixed with water and left to steam. Yuck. And the weirdest part of all? The croissants had an round bottom that stuck out by about an eight of an inch, as if the chef had mistakenly baked them in some kind of a cupcake pan!!! At least the croissants were tasty.

Then for some odd reason, the girls and I began talking politics. This time, I wasn't really bashing Republicans. I simply mentioned that we should never trust conservative Republicans, as they are typically the most hypocritical of them all. And so thus began the whole political discussion. I noticed that in all of my conversations, I always tend to talk about human excrements, human anatomy, or politics. Weird... Thankfully, that political discussion ended quickly when we started going along the Upper Klamath Lake. We had overheard someone who rode this route several times mention that if you looked real hard, you might catch the Klamath Falls. But when I pulled up my Google Maps, I was quickly disappointed that we would not see Klamath Falls, because by the time that experienced Coast Starlight rider mentioned it a few yards away from us, we had already passed it.

Despite having a built-in shower in our stateroom, my father had long declared that he would not shower for two days, instead opting to shower by the time we get to our hotel in Seattle. I agreed with him yesterday morning when I saw how small the combination lavatory and shower was, but this morning, for one reason or another, I changed my mind. Maybe it was due lack of sleep, or sheer rebellion in me, I decided that the full Amtrak experience can only be had if I take a shower in this tiny two and a half feet by one foot square space. After all, we paid for this upgraded room, so why not use the amenities we paid for, right?

Let me keep this paragraph short. I had the hardest time taking a dump and a shower (not necessarily at the same time) in that tiny combination lavatory/shower. I can't imagine girls taking a shower and having to shave their legs, because the moment you bend down, you smash your head against either one of the three walls or the door. If you instinctively switched lifting your leg up instead, you would end up banging your knees. And add to all that complexity, you have to deal with holding the shower head, lathering yourself, and hold onto something to keep you from tipping over!

But in the end, yours truly prevailed. I stepped out of the lavatory feeling mostly refreshed, followed by a good teeth brushing. Ah... Now I was ready to tackle the Lounge car and take in the scenery. I saw Odell Lake, the rocks, then Lowell Lake right before getting to Eugene. My goodness, Lowell Lake is huge! And filled with party revelers. I saw many boaters out there having a good ol' time.

It didn't take long before it was lunch time. If I had known that the lunch and dinner menu would be the same every day, I would not have made lunch reservation at the Dining car. I tried to see if I can squeeze ourselves into the more upscale Lounge car dining, but we were promptly greeted with disappointment that it had been booked full already. So back to the Dining car we marched. I really did not want to eat another cold turkey with gravy, or another burger, since my father and I switched plates yesterday. So my father got the angus beef burger, while I got the yucky tuna salad. I'd much rather have yucky than a repeat.

Because the Coast Starlight was unusually on time, a fact I learned from all the crew members, the wine tasting event today would be started earlier, followed by similarly earlier dinner in anticipation of arriving in Seattle slightly early. But this time around, the company wasn't as great, and there was a self-proclaimed wine snob who clearly didn't know what he was talking about. Although he may be construed as annoying, at least he was flamboyantly gay and full of character. Believe it or not, he livened up the crowd. But before he could finish the second tasting of wine, he promptly ran off to the theatre room below to catch The Wizard of Oz. Again. Only because I knew he made a scene with the kids yesterday afternoon exclaiming how much he loved The Wizard of Oz and ran downstairs in similar fashion.

Unfortunately, not only was today's wine tasting not as fun in terms of company, but the wine selection was not as good either. I'm not quite sure why, but I suspect the fact that I was getting pours of half the glass, unlike yesterday when I had pours that filled almost to the brim, may have something to do with it. Regardless, I had the following wines... Hogue Cellars Chardonnay from Columbia Valley in Washington, bottled in 2006. This was one of the driest white wines I've ever had, and the sweetest Chardonnay too. I didn't like it. Next up was the Snoqualmie Whistle Stop Red 2006, also from Columbia Valley. It was a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, and it tasted pretty decent. Unfortunately, it was way too fruity for my liking, especially when two of my favorite red wines are concerned. This was followed by yet another red, the Columbia Crest Shiraz Grand Estates, also from the state of Washington in the Columbia Valley. Now, this one I loved. I know Shiraz is one of my favorite types of wine, but even if I did not know it was a Shiraz, my taste buds would have told me that it was extremely agreeable. And I asked for "another" tasting, which Scott happily obliged.

Before we could conclude our wine tasting event, we pulled into the Portland station. At first I didn't think it was Portland, considering the grisly sight that welcomed us. Then I saw a junk car shop with a blazing sign that read "Portland Auto Repair Shop." Damn... I thought Portland was supposed to be this beautiful town much similar to Seattle. But I suppose I have to give the Board of Tourism kudos for doing a good job painting a picturesque view of the entire city. But one thing was for sure though... The light rail and bountiful bicycle paths were clearly visible throughout the city, even from the station all the way through the city as we pulled away.

Finally, the last wine was nothing to write home about. It was a Rieslings from Columbia Winery, located in Yakima Valley which is also located in the state of Washington. Again, like yesterday's Riesling , it was super sweet and didn't taste like wine. At least I didn't drink it like wine. I didn't finish that, instead opting to save the last flavor to stimulate my palate with the second glass of the Columbia Crest Shiraz Grand Estates. And mmm... I've been milking that baby out for the last hour and a half while sitting up here on the Lounge car writing this blog at this very moment.

I tried to get my father to come join me in enjoying the beautiful scenery touted by many as beautiful between Portland and Seattle, but unfortunately he fell asleep. So I thought it best to let him rest, despite having a momentary lapse in temptation to wake him up by proclaiming out of the blue, "Wow, it's cold in here." Instead, I am enjoying the view by myself. The weather for sure is much akin to Seattle, with constant gray haze overcast. That's not to say that this is the only kind of weather that prevails in Seattle or Portland, but more like the popular notion that many people hold in their mind as the only weather that exists.

Well, I must stop now, as it is only twenty minutes till our dinner reservation at the Lounge car dining room. Mmm... Scallops... At least I won't be having a repeat dinner like yesterday...

Day 1 of West Coast Trip (Part B)

2008-07-05T14:41:00.000-05:00

Uhm... Yeah... Wine ~~tasting~~ drinking. Yum... And that took up most of my afternoon. Who could possibly refuse to partake in ~~tasting~~ drinking two glasses of red wine and another two of white wine for five mere dollars? To top it all off, they threw in cheese and crackers!!! While in the Parlour car participating in the wine tasting, I sat across from a nice couple from Oregon. Kind of like hippies. But they were really nice and fun to talk with. Especially during wine tasting. I mean, drinking. There is absolutely nothing better than drinking wine with a has-been hippie couple while discussing politics. Lucky for all parties involved, we all bashed the conservative rights. We talked so much crap about the Republicans that some dude who was sitting next to us had to get up and leave. We didn't want to sit by Republicans anyway. ;-)

The wine tasting is interesting in the fact that the conductor selected specific wine from regions that the Coast Starlight passes through. Not only did we get to see the beautiful scenery of the California Coast, we also got to complement our visual sense of natural beauty with the taste of the land we saw. We started out with a glass of white from the Santa Barbara County, which was featured prominently in the movie Sideways. It is called the Taz Pnot Gris, bottled in 2006. For someone who generally doesn't like white wines, this was actually pretty good. Only because it carried strong hints of lemon, lime and other spices. The next one was the Estancia Pinot Noir from Pinnacles Ranches Monterey County. I didn't get a chance to hear the conductor slash wine enthusiast talk about the wine because I went back to my state room to check on my father who was taking a nap. But all I know is that it was bottled in 2006, and this type of wine is considered the "holy grail" of red wines, only because it is the hardest grape to grow. Although it carried a price tag of $25 per bottle, I didn't like how it had hints of cherry and flower.

Next up was the Greg Norman Petite Sirah from Paso Robles, again from California. No surprise here, considering the Coast Starlight only goes through three states: California, Oregon and Washington. And I don't suppose Oregon is exactly well-known for its wines. And I suspect that the second day of the journey will include wine from the state of Washington. Anyway, I have never liked any of the wines from Greg Norman the golfer's vineyard in the past, but I admit that this was one of the best Shiraz-type wines I've ever had. Maybe it's the grape, maybe it was the aromatic hints of blackberries that sweetened the wine. Nonetheless, it was good enough that I bought a whole bottle after wine tasting.

The final wine was a Riesling from Monterey County, called the Jekel Riesling bottled in 2006. I don't care if Riesling is the most popular white wine with phenomenal growing demand all over, I don't care so much for it. Riesling tastes too much like white grape juice with no alcohol, which often leads me into drinking too much of it too fast. And the inevitable would happen: getting smashed a good hour later. But this Riesling provided for the wine tasting was crappy anyway that I didn't bother to finish the glass. Instead, I opened the bottle of Greg Norman Petite Sirah instead. And fortunately, it was just in perfect timing as my dad woke up and joined me at the Parlour car, so I served him a glass. And I was able to pawn off the conversation with the hippies to my father while I go and take pictures.

Suddenly, all the good times had to come to an end. It was dinner time, and we had to go to the Diner car. With an opened bottle of wine in hand and a good buzz going on, we sat down salivating over the featured menu item: flat iron steak. I knew this meal would redeem Amtrak in my father's mind, considering after he disliked the turkey and gravy earlier in the day. And boy, was I right. The steak was good. The only issue I had was that my steak came out medium well when I had asked for medium. Our server promptly took care of the situation, although I secretly wished she would have left my half eaten steak on the table just so I have something to nibble on while I waited for another steak.

During dinner time, we went through Salinas, a city known as the agricultural capital of California. Any produce you see in your local grocery store, be it in Chicago, Kansas City, New York City or New Orleans, chances are you'll find at least five different vegetables that were produced at and shipped from Salinas, California. For miles and miles and miles, all we could see was acres upon acres of farm land with so many different kinds of vegetables. You name it, I probably can say I saw it. =)

Before long, nightfall came upon us. As the scenery began to dwindle into the dark, I decided to head to the lower level of the Parlour car to catch National Treasure on the big screen. I was thrilled to be in a tiny movie theatre in moving train. Half way through the movie, some kind came downstairs to exclaiming that we could see fireworks passing by. I tried to look, but it was futile, as the fireworks were mostly set off by individuals, and not quite exactly spectacular, especially when you see it once and within a second it disappears because the train was blowing by too fast. So I returned my concentration on the large forehead on Nicolas Cage's head and his expressionless large eyes of his. I honestly think he only has one expression, much like Tom Cruise. But nonetheless, the movie was still fun to watch.

With the movie nearly at its conclusion, we pulled into Emeryville, a station that serves Oakland and San Francisco. We could see tons of traffic along the road, as it was apparent that the big fireworks show must have just ended and everybody was trying to get out. Apparently the Emeryville station is in a nice part of town with many things to do, as the area was called the Jack London Square. Nice condos, lots of shopping, a variety of bars, and a hot singles scene. Too bad I'm old now. And furthermore, too bad I couldn't get off the train to have a pint.

After we caught the last three minutes of the movie, I retired to my stateroom, only to find out that I became a glorified secretary. My father wanted to me to transcribe a letter for him, and it took longer than his estimation of "just twenty minutes." When the transcribing was done, it was time to polish up the letter. But with my father's constant nagging and questioning whether or not I'm doing it right per his intentions, I grabbed the half full bottle of the Greg Norman Petite Sirah and headed out to the Parlour car.

When I got to the Parlour car, there was only a couple there finishing up their nightcaps. As I sat down with my drink, I let out a sigh of relief and relaxation, before I began tackling on my father's letter. An hour and a glass of wine later, I returned to the stateroom and gave my father the revised letter on my laptop. Before he even started reading it, he already began nagging me about my inability to write good business letters. I just ignored him, and soon enough, he realized that the letter was really good. I asked him what he thought, and he said, "Not bad." I asked again, saying "not bad is just that, not bad, but not good either; are you sure?" He chuckled and finally admitted that he really liked it. Of course, it was subject to fine tuning, because there were a few lost-in-translation moments, as I didn't quite understand his Chinese words.

Finally, I was able to go to bed. Tried as I may, I had to sleep through my dad's constant snoring. Funny how before we turned out the lights, my dad wanted to get a heads up from me to see how loud or often I snored. And I was the one who got woken up at two in the morning. Out of spite, I whipped out my Nokia N95 and recorded a good two minute audio clip of his wondrous sound of music.

You know, purely for the sake of archival or evidentiary purposes. =)

Day 1 of West Coast Trip (Part A)

2008-07-04T17:27:00.000-05:00

[This entry updated at the San Luis Obispo stop, where 3G service is available on the AT&T network...]

After just a few hours of sleep on Thursday night, the alarm clocks on both my cellular phones rang. It's time to get ready! Having lived in the United States for 12 years, I have experienced the Greyhound, modern airline and the all-Americana road trips. But in all those years, I have never had the experience of taking one of the oldest celebrated forms of transportation that started the Industrial Revolution: the railway. And here I am, in the Lounge car of the Coast Starlight, taking in the scenery of the wild west (or I'd like to think so), and enjoying such natural beauty.

The first piece of marvel we got to see was the Los Angeles Union Station. Although smaller than some of the other Union Stations I've ever visited such as the Kansas City or Chicago, it definitely was different. Instead of tall, arched ceilings with the familiar echoey (yes, I just made that word up) white noise, it is tall and angular made of wooden beams styled after the southwestern mission architecture. After boarding the Coast Starlight #14, we enjoyed the beautiful scenery of inner Los Angeles, where beautiful worn houses were adored by neon-colored decorations, presumably left behind by rival gangs of Los Angeles. Ah, nothing beats such inner city gang scenery while enjoying the complimentary Champaign. Of course, I had to ask for the complimentary orange juice to turn it into a mimosa, but it was only fitting because it is still morning...

Otherwise, the scenery definitely picked itself up after we headed out west to Oxnard where we started turning north to go up the coast. For the longest time, we saw miles of beautiful beaches, all untainted by crowds the like of Santa Monica or Valentia beaches. As we choo-choo'ed alongside the Pacific Coast Highway, we saw numerous cliff-ends, fishing piers, and RV campgrounds filled with people who had driven there for the Fourth of July weekend.

But one thing I didn't like was the numerous off shore oil rigs out in the beautiful ocean. There was at least three you can see in the horizon, and they were never ending. For a good hour, you see an oil rig out there. And Dubya wants to allow more OCS in our seas? Hell no!!! Destroying picturesque scenery with such environmentally dangerous machines that will at best alleviate five cents per gallon (in today's demand) but won't be able to start producing any oil for 10 years, I think that is not the way to go.

Given that we had bought first class tickets in the Sleeper car, where our room included convertible beds, a sink and a combination shower/toilet, we had full access to the exclusive Parlour Lounge, where glass windows go from the side up to the ceiling, enabling us to have better view of the west coast along the way. We saw many agricultural fields, such as rice patties, cabbage fields, flower fields (now I know that the flowers I bought every Valentine's Day were probably shipped from California), orange groves, and cattle ranges. This is definitely the part of America that I never got to see, despite knowing they existed.

Then 12:30 arrived, with our lunch reservation at the Dining car. My father and I shared a table with a lovely couple named Ray and Tamara. Given the limited choice of food available to us in the inclusive meal, I had a tough time deciding what to order for Dad. I knew he wouldn't like the Tuna Salad sandwich, and probably the create-your-own burger was not as appetizing for an old-fashioned Chinese with distinctive palate, I thought maybe he would enjoy the traditional turkey and gravy over biscuits. But when it came, it was of the cold variety, not the warm type you and I are accustomed to in those dinky diners or during Thanksgiving dinners when economic times are down. My dad gladly ate my turkey burger instead. I guess when all foods are not appealing, there is at least one that is the least unappealing that will satiate the appetite.

After a good and lengthy chat with our lunch buddies, we decided to go lounge in the Lounge Car. We promptly passed the Tasmania country, where we spotted a coyote out in the fields. If you asked me, it looked like an oversized German Sheppard, or an oversized wolf. But as the conductor has worked this route for years on end, I kind of believed him. We also saw many abandoned oil rigs, like the ones you see in movies set in Texas.

Oh wait... It's almost 15:30, so it's about time for wine tasting. For $5, I get to enjoy the different kinds of wine found along the route from California to the state of Washington. So I better a break here from blogging, and really enjoy the scenery while getting lit. =)

I Pity The Girls

2008-07-02T23:59:00.000-05:00

Well, today had been a day like no other. After two weeks of grueling hell at work, I am finally embarking on a westward journey towards regaining my sanity Or at least that's the hope. With gifts in tow, I am finally getting to see my brand new niece, who was born on June 1. The week and a half ahead is going to be hectic and stressful, I'm sure. But it is definitely going to be a welcoming stress, unlike the stress induced by my workplace of late.

Because I was unable to secure any reasonable fared flight the day before Independence Day, I was forced into flying out tonight instead. So I'll be working remotely from Los Angeles tomorrow. So let's see how many times do I have to recharge my cellular battery during the whole course of the day. After the work day, I am hoping that I'll get to enjoy dinner with my parents, who had flown over to the United States to celebrate their first grandchild in their lives.

The fun begins on Friday morning, when I take my father on the Coast Starlight, an Amtrak train that links the entire western coast between Los Angeles and Seattle. Supposedly, it has been billed by most fanatical train travelers as one of the top 10 train routes in the world, mostly for its scenery. Really, the scenery is best when traveling southbound, but I heard from others that northbound is just as great. I suppose it has something to do with the time of day when the train passes certain parts of the coast.

After we arrive in Seattle late Saturday evening, we'll be relaxing at the Homewood Suites in downtown Seattle, an abode I have frequently rested my weary soul when I had my long term assignment earlier in my career. I'm not quite sure what Sunday morning will bring after a good night's rest, but I do know that I'll be taking my father to the Mariners' game on Sunday. As typical Asians that we are, I'm sure food will be a priority before the 13:00 game, as well as afterwards.

On Monday, we'll be taking a long car ride north to catch a ferry to Orcas Island. I have already reserved a few seats on the Orcas Express, which will take us on a whale watching tour. I'm hoping that we'll get to see much of the wildlife, and this is something I'm especially excited about, because I have not done this myself. Because the drive itself is going to be in the hours, the whole day will be spent on this little trip. But on the way back, I'm sure I'll stop by Facing East in Bellevue for some delicious, authentic Taiwanese food.

Before heading for the airport on Tuesday, I'm going to take my father on a short little hike towards the iconic Space Needle. If time permits, probably ride the Emerald City's claim to international fame, the aging monorail. And probably show him the fish market too. After all that fun, we'll be flying down to Las Vegas and checking in at the Bellagio.

Then Wednesday will just continue the travel madness with an bright and early trip to the Grand Canyon west rim, with a stop at the Hoover Dam, a past symbol of American prosperity and power, followed by a trip to the Skywalk. We'll also have a helicopter ride that will take us down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and take a boat ride up and down the Colorado River, before taking the bus back to the Bellagio. All that will take up the entire 11 hours of the day.

But it doesn't end there. We also have tickets to the Cirque du Soleil "O" show at 22:30 later that evening! Yeah, it's crazy, isn't it? I just hope my father have the energy to do all that. As all good things must come to an end, we will flying back to Los Angeles the next day. This will definitely be a welcome reprieve, when I rejoin my sister and mother to coo at Savannah, my niece. Of course, like all Asian families, when things such as family get together become rare, we absolutely must have a family portrait taken. I can't wait to see the results of this.

So as I sit high above in the sky in a steel tube called the Southwest Airlines Boeing 737, I'm thinking ahead of this trip. And here is the unusual part of my day; I apologize for the seven paragraph digression. In all of my travels in the past seven years, I have never ever gotten to the airport with ample time to spare. My time has always been a treasure, so I try to cut it close as much as possible so I don't spend too much time on the road and away from my friends or condo. Of course, the exception has always been when flying on international flights, and that is only because security procedures are different, and the boarding time is significantly longer than on domestic flights when planes are typically smaller.

I actually made it to Midway today with two hours to spare!

Well, don't start emailing me with words of congratulations or anything like that yet. I have to admit that the reason why I arrived early was definitely not by design or forethought. I honestly thought that my flight departs at 19:05. When I finally read my boarding pass, I realized that it was actually 19:50. Oops!

But the evening just got weirder. While waiting at the gate on a rocking chair beside a wall receptacle, a stunning woman walked past me. Of course, seeing stunning girls at airports is nothing new, but I think she is one of the tenants who bought a condo in my building. I wanted to stop her in her tracks and say hi, but I was on the cellular phone unfortunately.

And the final thing that's weird today? As I sit in the second row at the forward galley of the plane, I'm observing the party of four taking up the first row on both sides of the aisle ahead of me. It's a father, a son, and two younger daughters. The sad part is that each and every one of them, father included, had their own little gadget. Everybody has an iPod. Everybody has some kind of a portable gaming system. The boy's got the Playstation Personal, the middle girl's got the Nintendo DS, and the youngest one's got some hot pink gaming system, presumably a cheapo.

Anyway, the boy is always messing with the younger ones. And he is definitely a boy with no manners. He demands things from the flight attendant, and it bothers me slightly that she just sits there and take his crap in like a person of servitude. But what bothered me the most was when he got up to use the lavatory. Not even a full minute had passed before he emerges from it and returns to his seat without shutting the door, leaving us passengers in the front to enjoy a nice shit and piss stink in the air. At first I thought he only needed to check something, like young curious boys typically do. But when it was my turn to go use the lavatory, I was greeted with a big pool of stinky, yellow pee staring right back at me!

That dirty mofo not only failed to flush the toilet, but he obviously failed to wash his hands on top of shutting the door! And the dad is not slightly fazed by all this. I had to tap the boy in the shoulder to ask him to shut the door earlier!

And as he sits there, he continues to mess with his sister, like blocking the screen to her gaming system, or nudging her in the face, or sneezing into his hands and wiping the snot all over her, or something. And all I can think of is that he's smearing his sweaty, stinky penis juice all over his sisters!!! That is just not cool. I don't even want to know how they're like at home. Kind of reminded me of this kid who likes to dig his fingers into his ass through his pants and shove it into my face to make me gag when I was growing up. And the worst part of it all? I couldn't do anything about it because he was the son of my father's boss!

I hate disgusting boys... And so, I pity the girls...

How All Violent Crimes Should Conclude

2008-06-11T10:52:00.001-05:00

Jay Leno have claimed time after time that he loves stupid criminals. Well, I'm sure he'll chuckle about this, although probably not publicly.

There was a man who habitually enjoys robbing retail stores, by the name of Leonard Hudson. Unfortunately, his sweet life was snuffed out in an instant, cutting short his not-so-promising career in retail store heists.

Yesterday, Hudson robbed a fishing & bait store with a weapon (armed robbery) near 31st and Canal. As he was chased by employees, he ran down the street and jumped onto the huge expressway known as the Dan Ryan Expressway (the part of highway in Chicago where I-90 and I-94 temporarily converges). By some miracle, he was able to run across many lanes of this highway unscathed, to the median separating the south and north-bound sections.

At this particular section of the Dan Ryan Expressway, not only is the median just a concrete barrier, but it also opens up with two tracks for the CTA Red Line tracks. Well, Hudson scaled the concrete wall, and jumped onto the El tracks. Just like magic, or fate slowly catching up, the petty robber got hit and run over by a Red Line train.

Considering he was pronounced dead at the scene, it's pretty safe to assume that this repeat criminal won't be robbing stores and terrorizing business owners anymore. This happened so fast that even the police did not have a chance to respond to the call when the guy got killed! This is what I call karma at work.

This is how all violent crimes should end, with the perpetrator dead, without police involvement, without the victim involvement, and certainly without taxing our judicial system. Although it is still kind of sad that someone had to lose his life, but this is probably better for society at large. The only cost? A couple hours of inconvenience to the hundreds of law-abiding Chicago citizens stuck on the Red Line trains near the scene of the sweet justice.

If only all violent crimes conclude by solving itself out...

That's Thinking Forward

2008-06-11T10:18:00.001-05:00

Planning. At the place where I work, planning occurs everyday. Planning is a good thing. But sometimes, those who do the planning (obviously not yours truly) are just plain stupid. They plan for the obvious, and leave craters of holes everywhere. But let's not talk about work. Let's talk about Arizona.

Back in 2004's general election, Proposition 200 was approved by a majority of voters. Proposition 200 basically is law that spells out that when someone is registering to vote for the first time or in a different county, or merely casting a vote (if registered), he or she is required to provide specific documents of identification along with proof of citizenship. Seems harmless, doesn't it? Sounds like a good law for the voting system, doesn't it?

But what the hell do you do for those people who were born before birth certificates were issued? And those people who never left the country in their lifetime, which meant not having a passport? Well, that's exactly what happened to Shirley Preiss, of Surprise, AZ.

Shirley Preiss had been voting in every presidential election since 1932, and has never missed a single election. But this time around, she was stripped of her right to vote!!! The reasons? She was born in 1910, before birth certificates were issued as standard document. She never had a passport because she never left the country in her life. She no longer have a driver's license because of her inability to drive due to age. And to make matters worse, the school she attended as a young child no longer exist, so she couldn't get any kind of academic records.

Shirley Preiss is screwed!!!

Now, although this is a pretty freaking sad thing, consider what State Representative Russell Pearce (Republican), who was responsible for Proposition 200, had to say: "To get a movie, you have to prove who you are. To go rent a car, you have to prove who you are. That's part of life."

What the... Sure, leave it to the f*cking Republicans who hate the very idea of minority rights to enact laws so stringent that it leaves certain legit people out in the cold. If the Arizona governor cannot intervene in this matter, I wonder what will US Senator John McCain (Republican) has to say about this, considering he is the presumptive Republican nominee for this year's presidential election, representing the very Arizona state.

Have I told you how much I hate stupid people for planning without forethought? Yeah, I hate that very, very much.

A Legal Question

2008-06-10T16:10:00.007-05:00

So... A friend forwarded me an email wanting to know if the following falls within a certain legal framework:

"Is this statutory rape???"

I Like Bobbies, But Not Today

2008-06-07T15:13:00.001-05:00

Note: This blog was written on Sunday, June 1, 2008.

Sleep... It is one precious little thing that I can't seem to get enough of. Generally, it is the holy grail to which I seek on a daily basis. And when weekends come, I seek refuge from the tiredness of the workweek and steal some sought-after Z's by sleeping in. Like the shitty economy we're in, I try to gain ground on this whole sleep deficit on the weekends by sleeping in as much as possible.

But on this Sunday morning, I got woken up at freaking 0730 in the morning! No, it wasn't because I had forgotten to turn off the alarm clock. And no, it wasn't because I had a nightmare. And definitely no, I didn't have a hung over woman wake up next to me and hurriedly get dressed to bail out. What woke me up from my deep slumber were loud motorcycles revving up their engines. And cars honking. And lots of women cheering and hooting.

Repeatedly.

I looked out the window, and saw a bunch of women wearing pink walking by my building on the sidewalk. Thinking it would end soon, I tried to go back to sleep. But more motorcycles and more honking and more hollering continued. It was so loud that I simply couldn't go back to sleep.

I decided to get online, and guess what? Apparently the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer was happening. Great! I typically support events like this, especially when it is for a great cause, for because I love boobies too. I don't want anybody being forced into cutting such mammary wonders off to save their lives. So yeah, I support such causes.

But dammit! Not today! The damn booby walk woke me up. And it made me cranky. So for 2008, I'll claim to enjoy boobies for 364 days, with June 1st as the exception for the year...

Damn boobies...

A Letter to the High and Mighty

2008-06-05T13:38:00.001-05:00

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Seriously!"

Let's take a moment and go further back in time. I woke up later than usual this morning, and I had to go to the gym before going to work. As usual for situations like this, I would browse through my BlackBerry on Nokia to see what's on the docket for the day, and ensure that I have the flexibility to work out and shower. If not, I'd just shower and go straight to work. But this morning, I was all clear.

Throughout my workout, I constantly kept an eye out at my BlackBerry on Nokia, checking it routinely to ensure no new meetings pop up for the day. Everything was fine, so I went to the locker room and showered. As soon as I got out of the shower, as luck would have it, my cell phone and pager rang off the hook! Apparently, the vendor had set up a conference call, and I was a critical person for the call, and the vendor forgot to add me into the invitee list. Great...

As I stood in front of my locker buck naked, another fellow gym user came in from his workout. His locker happened to be next to mine. I paid him little attention, other than to get out of his way so as to provide more room for him, and started dialing into the conference call on my cellular phone's speakerphone.

As the call progressed, I continued to dry myself and put my clothes on. And finally, when I was doing my hair, the last thing of my getting ready for work, the aforementioned guy (henceforth to be called The High and Mighty) returned from the shower and started getting dressed next to me. Throughout the entire time, The High and Mighty kept on giving me the eye, and like a spoiled rotten girl throwing a temper tantrum, did things loudly while using his locker.

When The High and Mighty got dressed and prepared to leave, he slammed his locker as hard as he could, then finally opened his lips to say condescendingly, "Seriously? Speakerphone in a locker room?"

I knew it wasn't the best etiquette I've displayed, but considering the situation, I had no choice. So I responded, "Seriously, yeah. When you get paged for an emergency, I'm sorry. What else should I do?"

The High and Mighty shot back, all the while walking away from me, "You could've gone downstairs."

Just then, I had to unmute the call and respond to some of the discussions, so The High and Mighty left the locker room. But I was nearly done with my routine, so I hurriedly responded to the discussion, muted the call, and then put on my coat jacket. I tried to catch up with The High and Mighty, who was about 15 yards ahead of me, but he had his iPod on. He would look back at me once in a while, but not want to continue the discussion. And judging from the way he was dressed and the heavy backpack filled with leather bound books that he carried, I assumed that he was probably a law student at Northwestern University.

When he stepped out of the gym, The High and Mighty turned east. Alas, my work is westward. So in the interest of getting to work in a timely manner, I gave up on him. Hence this letter to The High and Mighty now.

Dear High and Mighty,

My many apologies for my social faux pas at the locker room. I want you to understand that I normally and typically would frown on people who carry on a phone conversation (or conference call) in the middle of a locker room as well. I knew it wasn't right, and my sincerest apologies.

But mothereffer, what bothered me was the fact that you saw me buck naked, and you heard and saw my phone and pager going off, to which I was frantically trying to respond to. Please don't flatter yourself into thinking that I like to show off my personal package instead of prioritizing putting on my underwear first.

When you returned from your shower, you saw me half naked, but you also clearly saw my badge that clearly stated that I work for a hospital. You of all people know that a majority of the patrons at this gym are employees of this hospital: doctors, nurses and technical staff like myself. It is not like their badges (and pagers) are always hidden from view when entering or leaving the gym. Northwestern University law students come in at a distant second when it comes to patron demographics. You knew that. It was in your gym discount orientation package. In fact, the entire make up of the patrons at our gym are affiliated with either the hospital or your school!

Here's the thing. You have every right to feel offended that I was on a conference call on speakerphone, but seriously, do you have to behave like a little pussy ass girl with a temper tantrum? I gave an honest response, asking what I should've done if I got paged into an emergency. Your response was ill thought out, and without any forethought. How can you expect me to just "go downstairs" when you clearly saw me get paged while I was buck naked and all wet? Your response was so f*cking dumb that I wonder how much your precious daddy had to donate to the school for you to get in.

I know the odds of getting paged in an emergency just as I have stepped out of the shower are pretty slim in the future. But I do know that the odds of this happening to someone in a professional walk of life are higher. So I hope that you will write a project plan on how to deal with this situation when you, The High and Mighty, have become a professional yourself (assuming you graduate some day) and encounter the very same dilemma as I had today. If you can make a better decision and act better than I have given the situation, please do share this with the world. Obviously, just "going downstairs" buck naked cannot be considered a good action plan, because it would involve having the risk of getting arrested for indecent public exposure.

So seriously, I am very interested in how The High and Mighty can act better in this situation.

Sincerely,

John.

PS: I am also sorry that your penis is smaller than mine.

PPS: I hope that when you get old and fat (should you develop some kind of a health problem) that you'll suffer a massive coronary heart attack while your doctor (or the ER doctor) is buck naked in his gym shower, and that he will take his sweet ass time to get dressed and "go downstairs" to respond to his/her nurse's emergency page regarding your health because he/she believed that proper etiquette trumps emergencies.

The Miniature Earth...

2008-05-29T23:28:00.000-05:00

The Trouble With Sandals

2008-05-20T14:53:00.001-05:00

For as long as I can remember, I have always been a socks and shoes kind of a guy. The thought of wearing a pair of shoes without socks? I'd rather eat your grandmothers lacy panties than ever entertaining the thought of wearing a pair of trainers or dress shoes without socks. And it is for this very reason why I have for the longest time in my life avoided wearing sandals, or any kind of footwear that involves open feet.

Well, I do have to say that there was a brief moment in my early adult life that I actually wore a special kind of sandals, which was all strappy; one that had multiple straps that go over your foot from either side. Nothing got in the way between my toes. But even then, and my friends from that era of my life can fully attest, I still opted to wear socks along with that strappy sandal. Thank God I was nowhere near the fashion police. Was it fear of my feet getting exposed to the elements, like say, air? I don't know. Was it my desire to keep my feet nice and smooth to the touch, so that there aren't huge calluses built up on top of the sports calluses I had already built up in high school varsity basketball years? Not sure either.

But in either case, I have always avoided sandals. A hot August day in extreme humid Chicago? Socks and shoes. A stroll down the beach in Florida with my friends while vacationing in the summertime? Socks and shoes.

Until...

Well, some time near the end of last year, a friend and I were strolling through a running expo when we encountered a booth run by Crocs. Unlike myself, I'm sure most of you have heard of and bought Crocs years ago before they became a fad among teens and mothers unwilling to let go of their yuppie youth. Much like how I joined MySpace and Facebook only after they were no longer the in thing to do.

Anyway, I finally gave a pair of Crocs sandals a shot, and oh my gosh!!! They were scooshy and comfortable. They were nothing like the sandals I have ever owned as a kid, or the one and only kind I had in my young adulthood. Despite its exorbitant sticker price, I bought a pair! Only to sit in my plastic bag for months on end...

But when the day finally came for me to wear my new Crocs sandals, I began loving it. By then, it was already winter, so my chance of wearing them were as frequent as giving your little kitties a bath. But for every moment when I had to wear them, such as going down to the laundry room, or a brisk walk here and there, they worked marvelously.

Of course, sometimes I forget things given the span of time. Until today. I knew after running my half marathon, my feet would want to do some sort of rest and relaxation. What better way to pamper my own feet after they had helped me accomplish what I did than by going through the travel day wearing the Crocs I had bought the previous Fall?

Everything was hunky dorey. The drive from Fredericksburg to Baltimore was comfortable. The ride from the airport rental car station to the airport terminal was not so much comfortable. As the shuttle turned a corner, a luggage tipped over towards me. As I would usually do as if I was wearing regular shoes, I used my feet to prop the luggage back up. Only problem now was that when the heavy luggage got on top of my feet, it crushed a couple toes. And boy, did it hurt!

But that alone wasn't the problem. After snaking through the dumbest bright idea TSA came up for BWI's security checkpoint, I decided to head to the restroom and rid myself of some liquid that I had held in for hours. There were about six urinals open, and a guy was already using urinal number two. So being the smart gentleman, I went to urinal number four so as to give him some space. You know, this is a silent code of conduct that every man knows in regards to urinals. But as soon as I began letting my stream go, an old man (which, by the way, I have nothing against old people; it was simply an observation) came up to the bank of urinals and picked urinal number five, which was right next to me. When of all other urinals, he could have still maintained his code of conduct without being next to me.

Urgh!!! I mean, that bothered me somewhat, but not nearly to the extent of what happened next. I don't understand this, as urinals typically have a drip lip at the bottom, but sometimes I have always wondered why there were so much pee on the floor despite the innovative urinal design. And this old bugger somehow managed to splash his pee all over the place! And being right next to me, guess where some of that splatter landed?

On my exposed right foot. Which happened to be wearing my Crocs sandals. Open... Feet...

My jaws dropped to the ground. I was in shock. I was in utter disgust. I have never for once splattered myself while using the urinal, but how the hell did this old fart manage to pee and splatter onto me? As I muttered a muffled "mothereffer" and shook my head, I was then reminded of a similar incident over a month ago when I wore the Crocs to a movie theatre.

God, I need to remember lessons like this. So yeah, the trouble with wearing sandals is that although they are comfortable as they expose your feet to the elements, they also expose your feet to the unwanted elements, such as other peoples' pee. Or if you wear them to a bar, other peoples' drinks. Or the hot drunk chick's puke, whom you've been bumping and grinding the last half hour. Of course, other than the pee incident, the other scenarios are simply conjectural in nature. But one cannot help but imagine...

So yeah, I'm not sure if wearing sandals really suit me anymore. Of all the benefits I get from wearing them, I think the thought of being peed on is quite a rather turn off. Not even if I got stung by a jellyfish, which would necessitate someone peeing on me.

So yeah, that's the trouble with sandals.

Fool Me Once, Shame On...

2008-03-30T23:50:00.001-05:00

What's that saying, that Dubya claims to have originated from both Tennessee and Texas?

Anyway, about a month ago, I was working late one evening. Around 19:00, I decided to pack up and leave. As it was a cold and wintry day, I decided to cut through the hospital on my way to my parking garage. The hospital, at least the Galter Pavilion part of it, locks down the door to the public at 19:00, I was hoping that the security guys didn't make their rounds on time.

That night, my hope yielded. As it was already 19:05, the doors were still unlocked. As I crossed the street from my building towards the Galter Pavilion, some black guy came up to me, steps before the revolving door. As I was about to brush him off, he started giving me a spiel about how he was a patient at the hospital, and that when he left near closing time, he realized that he had left his wallet at the doctor's office. He couldn't retrieve it, because the office had already closed, and that he was told by security that he would have to come back the next day. Then he proceeded to plead with me that without his wallet, there was no way for him to get home.

I thought to myself, what the hell. So I gave him five dollars, and proceeded to go on my way. For the most part, the story sounded legit, as the Galter Pavilion is an outpatient facility. And plus, he didn't really look like a bum. In fact, he didn't smell like one either.

Well, fast forward to this past week. As I was leaving work late again, I saw him out by the Galter Pavilion. As I crossed the street, he began to target me. I recognized him right away, and he did too a few seconds after he repeated his spiel. Then he walked away.

Damn right, bitch! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. And I wasn't about to let this guy fool me twice, cos I would've raised hell and demanded a fucking refund! Now you know why I'm not always generous with strangers.

Special Day Today?!?

2008-03-10T12:18:00.001-05:00

For the most part, I consider myself well-versed and quite literate in the English language. At times, better than the average American who was born and raised here, I suspect. I don't claim, however, to know everything. That is why I enjoy learning new vocabularies from either the Readers' Digest magazines, or occasionally a new word once a month or week while reading the news.

Well, today must be my special lucky day! Why? Because in a matter of less than two hours, I came across two words that I had no idea what they meant! The first one I couldn't even guess from the context, and the second one I was semi-correct, thanks to the Merriam Webster Dictionary.

Do you know what egress means? How about hubris?

If I come across another word I don't understand today, I swear I'll stop reading the news for the rest of the day, or I'll just throw in the towel, stand up on the desk of my cubicle, and scream, "I, John of Taipei, am a stupid, dumb f*ck!"

Or maybe not...

Egress (noun): 1) the action or right of going or coming out; 2) a place or means of going out.
Hubris (noun): exaggerated pride or self-confidence.

[Note: Can you imagine if the signs in our buildings read EGRESS/SALIDAS? I would be tempted to think that both words were Mexican!]

[Double-note: I didn't write Spanish on purpose, cos I thought it would be funny to use Mexican as its own language.]

Need Inspiration?

2008-03-09T18:51:00.002-05:00

Ever heard of Heather Dorniden? I have not, until recently. If you're a runner, and you want to see an inspirational finish to a race, look no further. Just watch the video below and see the unbelievable feat accomplished! (She is about 30 seconds into the video.) (Incidentally, she shares the same birthday as mine: Jan 19.)

Are Americans In General STUPID?!?

2008-03-05T13:47:00.002-06:00

Okay, aside from the current president, I don't think Americans in general are stupid. Sure, Americans have for years been lagging behind citizens of other countries, including third world and developing nations, on math and science, but I have for the longest time defended the notion that in general, Americans are not exactly stupid.

I have taken this stance even before I became an American citizen myself back in 2005, including way before as in when I was merely an international student in college (1996 through 2001). Sure, the other kids in class tend to sit next to me so they can copy my answers, and I was always the one who answered questions thrown out by the professor, but I typically attributed why most American students wouldn't dare raise their hands to the fact that Americans are typically shy when speaking out in public, including public forums such as classrooms.

But today, I'm starting to think that maybe, with a slight possibility, that Americans in general might be stupid. Case in point: Aluminum. First of all, despite the fact that the ancient Greeks and Romans have used aluminum compounds for different purposes, Humphry Davy in 1808 discovered aluminum in its base metal form. He called the pure metal aluminium. In every country where the Roman alphabet is used, this common metal is spelled with an i at the end, except for the United States! What the hell??? But I am not going to go into this spelling debate, as there is something more important at stake for this topic...

So what prompted me today to get on this topic? Well, I went down to the Corner Bakery Café to get a simple lunch: pesto pasta with bread. When I got back to my cubicle and began eating, I noticed that although my pasta was still hot, my grilled bread has quickly turned cold. And there is a very legitimate reason, because my grilled bread was wrapped in aluminum foil with the wrong side facing out!!!

Okay, for the average reader, you probably are wondering why that mattered. Trust me, the majority of my friends would share the same reaction as you, which quite frankly, is helping me make my case here. Do Americans lack the urge to be curious? I mean, when I saw aluminum foil for the first time when I was a kid, aside from learning quickly that the edge can slice my skin open, I immediately noticed that one side of it is shiny and the other side is dull! Of course, I quickly learned in junior high why that is so. But let's not get into that just yet.

If you have no idea why I'm going off and off on some stupid aluminum foil, let me dare you to try an experiment. Go bake some lasagna in the oven, with two separate casserole dishes. Give each dish the same ingredients and the same amount. And make sure the dishes are of the exact same size, shape and manufacturer. Now, cover one casserole dish with an aluminum foil with the shiny side up, and cover the other with the dull side up. Leave both on the same rack, and bake both together per the instructions as far as time and temperature goes. What do you think will happen? Let's get back to this later...

The incident with the Corner Bakery Café today wasn't the first of its kind to happen to me. There was once when a friend, who will remain anonymous, who baked some delicious food with the aluminum foil with the wrong side up. Thankfully, the food was not frozen, and it was quick to cook. Nobody got salmonella out of that. Then there was this one time when I went to a non-chain deli store and ordered a nice, warm Italian sandwich. Since the store wraps their sandwiches in aluminum foil, I noticed that they were wrapping everybody's warm sandwiches with the wrong side up!

My favorite aluminum story of all? The 2005 Chicago Marathon. Whenever the Chicago Marathon ends up occurring during cold weather, race organizers have always provided finishers with warming blankets. Warming blankets are nothing more than the thinnest and cheapest version of emergency fire blankets used by fire fighters. Anyway, in 2005, I noticed that all marathon finishers were given warming blankets with the Chicago Marathon and LaSalle Bank logos printed on the wrong side! Of course, nobody wore the blankets with the logos inside and the non-logo side outside, so everybody was wearing it the wrong way, save for a few runners which I proudly commend for their brilliancy.

[Please note: A few years ago, a team of firefighters in California died in a passing forest fire that they couldn't beat due to lack of training. Basically, if the wind kicks up and you cannot outrun the fire, you are trained to pull out the emergency fire blankets and cover yourself in it and stay on the ground. This will only last you a few minutes, but most fast blazing forest fires will blow by within the average few minutes. Anyway, autopsy revealed that this young team of firefighters burned to death because they didn't have the necessary training, since they wore their emergency fire blankets made of aluminum the wrong side up!!!]

So let's get back to the basics. I learned in basic, generic science class in seventh grade that the shiny side of aluminum reflects heat, whereas the dull side absorbs heat. Sure, it was covered again in chemistry as well as physics in my high school years, but it was first taught in basic science in seventh grade! [Note that I went to a school that uses American curriculum.]

In the case of my grilled bread for lunch, had the food preparer used the aluminum foil with the dull side out and the shiny side in facing my bread, the grilled bread would still have been nice and warm by the time I got upstairs. That's because the shiny side would have reflected the heat from the bread back into the bread!

In the case of my friend who cooked that chicken, had my friend baked the chicken with the shiny side in and the dull side facing the oven, the food would have been cooked significantly faster. And I wouldn't have accused my friend of trying to poison me with salmonella.

In the case of the 2005 Chicago Marathon, nobody got to stay warm except for the handful of runners who actually wore their warming blankets with the dull side out, and the shiny side (with the logos) in. Basically, their body heat escaping the bodies would have been reflected back into their own body, while the dull side facing out would have absorbed as much heat from the sun as possible. 95% of the finishers were probably wondering why they continued wearing defective warming blankets when they know they still remained cold.

So can you guess what would have happened to your lasagna casserole? If you guessed that the lasagna covered with the dull side up would have turned out perfect, you're right. And the one with the shiny side up? Well, you better learn how to heat up lasagna in the microwave if you have guests waiting for dinner.

Long story short: How the hell can so many people make this damn mistake? Seriously! How can the company that makes warming blankets allow the logos to be printed on the wrong side, and have 35,000 such blankets distributed?!? You would think that a company that specializes in the manufacturing of warming blankets would have caught this mistake if it was done by them! Worse yet, if it was specifically ordered by the race organizers like that, the manufacturer should have given a warning and try to correct the problem!

So, back to my question. Are Americans in general stupid? Something as simple as a piece of effing aluminum foil cannot even be used correctly! What's next? Using Q-Tips® as toothpicks, and plastic Saran® wraps as condoms? You decide... Before today, my answer had always been no. But today, I am sooo on the fence on this one...

If I get food wrapped up the wrong way in aluminium ever again, I swear on the baby lord Jesus, I am going to sit there and provide a free lecture!

Brisky Brisky

2008-03-04T18:35:00.000-06:00

So this happened last week, and I simply did not have the time to write about it. But now that I do kind of have some free time, here it is.

You know you haven't gotten enough sleep when you start doing strange things. You know, the usual day-to-day activities should be the easiest one to remember. Or you would think. But it all started on Sunday, February 24.

A few of my friends called and wanted to use my condo as their movie theatre, and hang out. So I told them that they were more than welcome to head over to my place and watch a movie and have dinner together. Well, it turned out that we ate lots of good food, drank two bottles of wine, and watched not just one movie, but two in a row!!!

Granted, I did have fun hanging out with my friends, but that completely threw out my plans to get a good night's sleep for Monday morning. You see, ever since I began working out with a personal trainer, I have yet to arrive at the gym on time. The best that I have done so far was arriving four minutes late. Thankfully though, I have never been more than 10 minutes late before. So anyway, my personal training days are on Mondays and Thursdays.

I was so tired on that Sunday evening by the time I kicked out my guests that I began to experience weird delirious moments. It started out with brushing my teeth before flossing. When it happened, I simply chuckled and thought nothing of it, as I have probably done that before.

As I headed to bed, I went into the kitchen in the dark to take my daily pills. No, I am not taking birth control pills, thank you very much. The ones I take every night is for my asthma, and the ones I take every morning is for my allergies. But my mind was in a hurry to shut itself down for the night, so I quickly took my pill. As I hit the sack, I realized that I had taken my allergy pill instead of my asthma! Damn!!!

Of course by this time, I was worried about what would happen to me if I had taken two 24 hour pills in a matter of 12 hours. But soon enough, I wasn't too terribly worried about overdosing, since I didn't swallow the entire bottle's contents.

I woke up the next morning, on a Monday, and began getting ready for the gym. As usual, I went to the bathroom to drop the kids off at the pool. It's kind of funny, as before I started my job here in Chicago, my number two routine had always occurred in the afternoon, but ever since I starting my new job and going to the gym, I had somehow miraculously moved my bowel movement's schedule into the 06:30 timeframe. Actually, I'm secretly proud of that fact. Anyway, the only reason why I did that was because early on in my first few training sessions with my personal trainer, I found it hard to pump irons or being stretched out while trying to hold shit or gas in. Thankfully, during the first couple times, no extra pockets of air escaped me.

Anyway, on Monday morning, I went to drop the kids off at the pool as usual. As I pulled my boxers down and bent my torso to get myself situated on the bathroom, I accidentally sunk into my toilet. F*ck!!! I had totally forgotten to put the toilet seat down. If there is anything I hate more than when male guests accidentally peeing over my toilet seat, it is getting my nut sack and ass cheeks wet by falling into the toilet bowl.

So apparently, last week was just not meant for me at all whatsoever. But wait, it even gets better!

When I arrived at the gym, I started to unpack my gym back so that when I was done with the workout, I can just hop in the shower without going through my bag for the facial scrub, sandals, towels, et cetera. As I was going through my bag, I realized that the night before I had totally forgot to pack a boxer!!! For a brief moment, I thought about just calling it a day and cancelling my workout session and heading home. But thankfully, I did think about the cold weather the night before and packed a pair of Patagonia technical tights for the day. I often use it as a long underwear during days of extreme wind and cold. So I decided maybe I would go pseudo commando for that day, considering that the tights were snugly enough that it could very well keep my carrot and acorns in check.

As if God didn't have enough material to humor me for that day, I went to the showers after my workout and began my usual routine. But instead of putting my facial scrub stuff in my hands and washing my face first, I somehow began washing my hair with it! Damn!!! The funny thing was that this had actually happened to me a couple times in the past when I was tired also...

As I walked my way to work in the cold shearing wind from my parking garage, I felt a sudden brisky brisky sensation in my crotch. Yup! It must be the commando effect! So much for having a great start to the day and week, I thought to myself...

Another Reason Why I Hate American Airlines

2008-02-25T13:01:00.001-06:00

In my seven years of traveling professionally, I have come to loath United Airlines for various reasons. It seemed like an overwhelming majority of the flight attendants on United Airlines were downright mean spirited and had piss poor attitude. Not only did they publicly display how much they hate their job, and how they don't care for what they do, they also treat passengers like people who got in their way of completing their crossword puzzles and catching up on celebrity gossip. On top of that, they roll their eyes if you ask for another cup of water, as if four ounces was considered way too much for any passenger on a four hour flight.

I avoided United Airlines as much as I could in those seven years. If I could help it, I would always fly Southwest Airlines. Besides a few rotten apples in their flight attendant squadron (which I encountered perhaps once every 15 flights), the overall experience has been phenomenally awesome. And if business dictated a trip to a location where Southwest Airlines did not fly to, I would try to fly either Northwest Airlines or Continental Airlines. Third on the preference list was American Airlines.

Well, after the wonderful encounter on February 20 with an American Airlines flight attendant, I began to wonder if her personality was morphed due to the morale at work. But today, I think my suspicion is correct. Her racist and demeaning attitude was not only a reflection of herself, but a reflection of the workplace environment too. Just ask Carine Desir. All she wanted was oxygen in time of medical need, yet the American Airlines flight attendant refused her request twice. The flight attendant only decided to provide oxygen after other passengers became agitated at him/her. And to put the cherry on the top, the flight attendant gave Carine two empty canisters of oxygen!!!

Right...... I will not fly American Airlines ever, if I can help it, because A) the odds of having rude flight attendants on board is probably pretty high, and B) they don't have functional safety equipment on board!!! Nice... Real nice... I hope the FAA and NTSB get on AMR like white on rice.

"Asian Fucker"

2008-02-20T23:09:00.004-06:00

I had the misfortune of staying at work till 20:43 today. As I left work and walked towards my downtown parking garage in the bone-chilling cold, I stopped by a grocery store along the way to warm up just a bit and pick up some bananas. Afterwards, it was just like any other commute home, sans traffic.

When I finally got to my corner, I turned and drove into the garage. Fortunately, there was another vehicle in front of me. I thought, she could roll down her window and swipe her access card to open the garage, while I keep my windows shut and stay warm and cozy. As the garage door opened, her car began inching forward, and I along did the same. But suddenly, she stopped her SUV with just a foot left to clear the door.

Bewildered, I waited patiently. I thought maybe she had dropped her access card in her car, and had to bend down to pick it up. I've done that myself several times. But then, a near minute had passed. Then I saw through her rear windshield that she was holding onto her cellular phone, all lit up like she was either texting or on a call. I thought, Great! Her car died in the driveway to the garage!!!

But then suddenly, she put her vehicle into drive, and moved forward an inch before stopping yet again. Hmm... That's odd. I got out of my SUV to check things out, thinking maybe she might need some kind of assistance.

When I walked up to her door, I noticed that her window was still down. But before I could say anything, I got barked at with, "I'm not letting you in! I don't know who you are!"

I was taken aback. So I kindly replied, "Uhm, miss, I live here." To that, she ordered, "I don't care, but you need to swipe your card! Or I'm going to call the cops!"

With that, I was even more shocked with such un-neighborly conduct. When most of the residents in my building recognize me, and when all of the staff and the association board members especially know who I am, I was a bit irritated by this yahoo I have never ever seen before in my four years of living in my building.

So I walked back to my car, grabbed my access card, and walked back up to her SUV. Her window was rolled up, so I tapped her window and did better than swiping my access card. I showed her my access card. You have to understand, our building uses the most non-standard and quite arguably the oldest access systems known to men, that any tenant in possession of the access card can recognize that it is the same.

Suddenly, she flung her door open! I jumped back just as the top corner of her door frame barely missed my face. Then a loud crash. Her door slammed into the garage door rail. I looked down to see if there was any damage, but before I could adjust my eyes, this woman jumped out of her car and got in my face.

Woman (screaming): Get away from my car!
John (calmly speaking): Well, here's my card. Can we go now? I am cold.
Woman (screaming): Step away from my car! Get out of my face!
John (calmly speaking): Uhm, I'm not in your face, and there's more than a foot between us.
Woman (screaming): I tell you! Swipe your card, or I will call the cops!
John (calmly speaking): Are you serious? [Chuckles and smiles at woman.] Seriously? I live here. For a long time. Just ask Omar. (I saw Omar, one of our building engineers, in the lobby when I drove into my driveway.)
Woman (screaming): I don't care who you know! I don't know who fucking Omar is!
John (a little bit irritated): You don't even know who works in this building?
Woman (screaming): I don't care! Get out of my fucking face! Or I call cops!
John (sarcastically laughing): Lady, I don't want to fuck your ugly face.
Woman (screaming): This is the policy. You must swipe your access card. Or I call the cops!
John (calmly speaking): You go right ahead. This is a private property, and there is nothing the cops can do when they get here. Don't you know that?
Woman (screaming and pointing her finger at John's face, damn near poking him in the eye): Oh yeah! I call cops now! [Dialing some numbers that did not match up to 9-1-1.]
John (laughing): Really? Seriously, just ask Omar who I am! I don't even know who you are!
Woman (screaming): I don't care, you Asian fucker!
John: ...
Woman (screaming): I call the...
John: Did you just play the race card, you racist?
Woman (screaming): Yeah, you fucking Asian fucker!
John: Oh my gosh! You're a racist!
Woman (screaming): You're going to jail! I call the cops!

By this point, I became quite angry with this woman. I was speechless. Truth be told, there was a split second when I felt the urge to take a step forward and slam my forehead into her filthy mouth. But then I realized that I gotta be smarter than that. So I just laughed at her and shook my head in disgust.

John: I can't believe you don't even know who Omar is!
Woman (screaming): I don't care who Omar is. I don't know who he fucking is!
John (walking to the window and motioning the woman towards him): That's Omar! And look, Ronnie (doorman) is here too!
Woman (refuses to walk over to John): I don't know who Ronnie is!
John: What? You don't even know our own doorman?!?

So I turned away, and waved at Ronnie. I asked Ronnie to come out and talk some sense into this woman. Just as Ronnie got up, his phone rang. As soon as he picked it up to answer, I heard the crazy woman screaming to somebody else. I took a step back, and realized that she just called the doorman instead of the cops.

When Ronnie finally hung up, this crazy woman had a smirk on her face. I just stood there, and watched her. Finally, Ronnie appeared, and I quickly said, "Hey, what's up Ronnie!" He asked what's going on. Before I could begin saying a word, this woman started screaming and began lying about the events that transpired.

I had enough of that crap, so I decided not to say anything and stepped back. With each lie that got spouted out of her filthy mouth, I was behind her gesturing at Ronnie with the she's crazy sign with my index finger circling around my ear, and gesturing the male masturbation hand signal. Ronnie finally interjected with, "Lady, you have a serious road rage issue. I know John. He is a good guy, and he lives here. Just park your car."

Oh boy oh boy oh boy! This woman became livid! She started screaming at Ronnie even more incoherently. I turned to get into my car, but just then, another resident pulled up into the driveway behind me. This guy looked confused. I turned towards the woman and yelled, "Hey lady! There's another car behind now. Do you want to ask him to swipe his access card? Or can we all just get in now?!?"

The woman turned and looked at the other car. Then she started screaming about how there is a policy and everybody needs to follow it, and that she will not let anybody through the garage door. Ronnie shot back with, "I know who they are. You cannot enforce security policies. If you have an issue, file a complaint with the board."

The woman finally realized that she was fighting an uphill battle. So she got in the car and peeled off into the garage. Finally! As I pulled forward, Ronnie leaned into my car and said, "Just ignore her. She's just being Queen Elizabeth." I was confused, but just laughed and drove on.

When I parked my vehicle, I noticed that this woman was only a few spots away from me, and that she was still in her SUV! I thought, Great! She's so going to key my car! But I didn't care. I proceeded to walk past her car and go about my way.

I went to pick up my mail, then walked to the lobby to chat with Ronnie. I asked why he referred that crazy woman as "Queen Elizabeth." It turned out that she is really into royalty, and acts like she is one. He said that I should ignore her, and that she was... Then he cut himself short before saying, "Never mind."

So I jumped in and told him that I was calm for the most part, until I came this close to head butting her in the face just for calling me an "Asian fucker." Ronnie's eyes got really big, and I saw the most white out of him ever! (Ronnie's black.) He then proceeded to tell me that he wanted to warn me that he thinks she is a Nazi, but didn't want to start rumors. But since she had already called me what she spewed out, he felt more assured.

I prodded him with more questions as to why he thought that. He then told me that about three years ago, just about the time she was thinking about buying a condo unit in the building, she had asked him about how many blacks, Asians and Mexicans were living in the building. And that she has a huge reputation in the building. Not a good one, for sure.

My jaw dropped to the ground. I was in disbelief.

Then Omar came over and told me that when she moved in, she asked him the same question. Omar said that he scolded her by saying that his granddaughter is black and that color didn't matter. (Omar is white.)

Un-effing-believable!!!

Suddenly, I saw her appear on the security monitor at the front desk. She had finally gotten out of the garage, with luggage bags in tow. She waited by the freight elevator, while Ronnie explained to me that she works as a flight attendant for American Airlines. Interesting. Then I noticed on the security monitor that she looked towards the lobby, then ditched the freight elevator. At first I thought she wanted to have a second confrontation with me, but she simply went to pick up her mail.

Ronnie continued telling me the background of this woman, about how cheap she was. Like not wanting to pay the move-in fee when she first bought the condo, never mind the fact that the fee has been written into the by-laws forever and a day.

Finally, I noticed that she had propped half her luggage against the elevator door, and went back to get the rest from the mail room. I quickly bid adieu to Ronnie, and said, "If she's a racist, I'm going to make her ride the elevator up with an 'Asian fucker.'" So I ran to the elevator just as she got in and pressed the button.

The crazy woman looked up and saw who I was, and started screaming, "I am not fucking using this elevator with you. You can have it!" She began moving all her luggage out of the elevator car, and I just stared at her and said, "Wow, you truly are a racist, aren't you?"

"I don't want to share it with a fucking Asian fucker!"

Un-effing-believable... I was simply amazed as I rode the elevator up by myself sans crazy bitch. I cannot believe that I have a Nazi living amongst us, a building just as diverse as Chicago itself. Especially in 2008. More prodding later on revealed that this crazy woman came from Czechoslovakia, and owns unit 1504. That is exactly six floors beneath my very unit. And apparently, she parks in space number 42. I took a picture of her Ohio license plate, and am considering getting some background information on this racist bitch.

Maybe I'll do some secret gift giving and send her a copy of The Schindler's List Collector's Edition DVD or something like that. =) You know, cos I'm just a nice guy. Or one who only sleeps with Asians, so she thought.

GDMFSOB!!!

2008-02-18T17:23:00.001-06:00

Well, as happy and excited as I was with my first ever participation in a national vote in February 5, I am now just as pissed in the polar opposite! You see, the privilege of being a registered voter includes the privilege of getting summoned for jury duty.

The summons indicated for me to call today after 16:30 to check and see if I really do need to go tomorrow for my summons, and wouldn't you know it? Those who are fortunate enough to have their last names begin with "the letter B as in Bravo through M as in Mike" indeed are summoned to appear tomorrow morning.

Son of a...!!!

At first, I thought maybe I can not show up and just say that in Chinese cultures, my American middle name is technically my last name in Mandarin, but I suspect that if I follow through with that plan, I might end up with a pretty warrant out in my name.

Then I thought about showing up in court with one of those Halloween props where I would have this butcher knife lodged squarely in my head with fake blood dripping down either sides of my temples, but I was warned that the court police officers or whoever they are do not take kindly (or gently, for that matter) to such acts of bravado.

In the end, I just realized that perhaps the best thing to do is simply grumble and mumble in disgust and speak some French as fluently as possible while I come to terms of my fate tomorrow.

Although I have never been summoned for jury duty before, I suspect that my day will be filled with boredom that perhaps I ought to bring with me a copy of the USA Today, Chicago Tribune, a novel, and some trashy celebrity gossip magazines. Somehow I suspect that the possession of porn magazines or my Internet-enabled cellular phone is highly discouraged, if not frowned upon.

God, tomorrow is going to suck so bad! Never has civic duty sound and feel as exciting as watching paint dry...

If you don't hear from me by the end of the day tomorrow, send help. Look for an Asian man in the Richard J Daley Center courthouse with an overgrown moustache and mold/mushroom growing out of his ass.

Dirty Dancing

2008-02-16T12:20:00.001-06:00

As I was driving to the gym in the butt crack of dawn earlier this week, I heard over the radio about how some Chicagoland school district canceled the remaining school dances for 2008 because of "dirty dancing." At first I chuckled, but then the radio DJ's said something about how the middle school students were bumping and grinding and showing too much skin.

It's funny, because the night before that, I was actually screwing around on YouTube, and watched a few videos. Then I came upon this funny video of three dudes lip syncing to the song, Barbie Girl. Then at the end, I got curious as to what YouTube suggested you should also watch that are related.

I was shocked to see that someone had put up a video of a fifth grade talent show! I wasn't necessarily shocked at the mere fact that someone posted this video on the Internet, but that three fifth graders were doing a dance to the Barbie Song as a talent show! I want to know who the dumb ass teacher who approved the use of this crap music, especially when the lyrics include: "You can brush my hair, undress me anywhere; imagination, life is your creation;" "Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky;" and "You can touch, you can play, you can say I'm always yours."

Seriously!!! As if the song wasn't crappy to begin with, it is riddled with crap lyrics, and degrading to women. And some dump ass teacher thought that the song is appropriate for use in a talent show? WTF?

So yeah, in a nutshell, I wasn't really that surprised to hear about the canceled dirty dancing. Kids nowadays are so much different than when I was in fifth grade. Or middle school...

Link to the news article about the Frankfort Park school district dirty dancing.
Link to the stupid talent show video.

Too Damn Close For Comfort

2008-02-14T18:54:00.001-06:00

I had just returned home and dropped the kids off at the pool. As I relaxed into a comfortable and worn pair of jeans, I noticed my dad sending me an instant message with: "terrible....At least 17 shot in Illinois university class."

I immediately went to news.google.com, and surely enough, news about this was splattered all over the top news section. Here's Reuters' initial report.

Aside from the fact that my dad, who lives in Shanghai, China, was the first to tell me about this, I am rather unhappy especially when I freaking live here in Chicago and the radio station I was listening to while driving home from work made no mention of this. But the worst part of it all? School shootings are becoming more frequent, it seems, and it is getting closer and closer to home.

This ain't cool...

Yet Another Possible Career Choice

2008-02-14T10:50:00.000-06:00

I like to keep my options open. Even though I'm an IT professional at the moment, and have been in the last seven years, I have always allowed the possibility of other career tracks in my mind. For example, possible options if I ever get sick and tired of computers include: Durex or Trojan product tester, Sleep Number Bed tester, wine taster, porn star, doctor (specializing in gynecology), food critic, or travel reporter.

Well, after reading a news report yesterday from CNN Asia, I think I can expand my list of possible career tracks to include space astronaut. The only reason why I never aspired to become an astronaut other than the fact that I failed horribly with my physics major in college was because I heard food choices in space suck. I mean, have you ever tried one of those space ice creams that astronauts eat? I'd much rather lick your kitty's little poop hole while she's got the runs! [Okay, maybe not that bad, but the space ice cream is pretty close.]

Now, I can consider becoming an astronaut because according to CNN Asia's report, after a couple years of research, Korean food will be on the menu in space! If there are no Asian foods in Chicago, I will die of suicide if I have to eat American or Russian food day in and out. But now, there's Kimchi! I better go back to Physics school soon if I want to become an astronaut.

Don't Diss My City!

2008-02-13T14:49:00.001-06:00

I love lists and rankings. It gives me a sense of competitiveness, you know? Before I transferred to a school based on the American curricular system in the seventh grade, each student was ranked against each other in the same grade. Being ranked last doesn't necessarily mean that you can't advance to the next grade, as it also takes into consideration your overall grades, but in my case, I have consistently ranked dead last with no eligibility for "promotion." Well, maybe with the exception of my second grade, which for some odd reason I placed second.

If you have not noticed, Forbes.com takes pride in their gazillion lists they put out every year. Some people enjoy tracking their published list of the richest people in the world, and other stuff. I personally enjoy tracking lists that involve health or lifestyle, such as Best Cities For Singles. But on January 29 of this year, Forbes.com issued a new list for America's Most Miserable Cities.

According to Forbes.com, this is their methodology used in the ranking:
"We looked at the 150 largest metropolitan areas in the U.S., which meant a minimum population of 371,000. We ranked the cities on unemployment, personal tax rates, commute times, weather, crime and the number and proximity of toxic 'Superfund' sites. We added their ranks together to establish what we call the Misery Measure.

The data used in the rankings came from Portland, Ore., researcher Bert Sperling, who last year published the second edition of Cities Ranked & Rated along with Peter Sander. Economic research firm Economy.com, owned by Moody's, also supplied some data."

So yeah, I was unpleasantly surprised that Chicago even made it to the top 10 most miserable cities in the United States. We were ranked sixth. The worst part of it all, which was more insulting than surprising, was that Los Angeles is ranked less miserable behind Chicago! Personally, I hate Los Angeles with a passion. That's infuriating...

Here's the summarized rankings I've compiled together: click here for link.

February 5: My First National Vote (sort of)

2008-02-05T17:29:00.000-06:00

It is February 5, 2008 today, and right before I left for work, I went down to my local precinct's polling station and voted. This is a historic and momentous event for me because today marked the first time I have ever exercised my most basic civic privilege as a citizen of the United States of America, as far as participating in the federal election process. (This despite the fact that I strongly believe that the election process is totally f**ked up with so many layers fault. But more on that later.)

Truth be told, I actually voted for the first time back in November 7, 2006. But the ballot was for all things local. I could have voted on a national level back in 2004, but unfortunately, due to delays in paperwork processing (specifically my FBI and CIA background checks), my verbal approval for citizenship wasn't given until some time in the middle of October of 2004. This was a problem for a couple reasons:
1) Verbal congratulations on the part of the INS Officer does not indicate I am a citizen on that date, but that I had to wait until I attend and complete the next available Naturalization Oath Ceremony,
2) The Naturalization Oath Ceremonies for October and November were full, so I had to wait till December which was well past the November 2 election date, and
3) Even if the October Naturalization Oath Ceremony was available, apparently there is a law that bars you from voting if you have not registered to vote by 30 days before Election Day.

So yeah, I am excited that I took my first step towards voting in a national election process. And this time around it matters more, because when it was Walker Bush versus John Kerry, I thought it would be bad for either one to take office. Well, technically, somebody like John Kerry might still be an inch better than Walker Bush. But that's beside the point.

Even though it was exciting that I participated in the beginnings of a national presidential election process, I was quite unhappy with the modern primary/caucus process. Before the 1970's, each state's major political party (which is only the Democrats or Republicans) had their own internal process of selecting a party nominee to compete in the presidential race. Then Iowa simply had to mess that up for the rest of the country. They basically included regular folks in the party nominee nomination. Actually, this is all fine, but if you're going to involve people outside the party members, then the national parties should have dictated that the caucuses and primaries be held on the same day for all states.

But nooo... The Democratic National Committee and the Republican National Committee had to dictate each and every state party on when they can have their primary or caucus held. Think of a national headquarter that controls each state's regional office. So because of this staggered system, they have created a giant monster.

First, because of this staggering system, small states like Iowa and New Hampshire got the privilege to shape up the nominee lineup. If a candidate did not get the party nomination from one of those early states, he may be compelled to drop out of the race. Why? Because the national media covers Iowa and New Hampshire with such ferocity that it in fact persuades voters in other states! Just imagine a headline like this on national morning news of January 4, 2008: "Edwards came in second in the Iowa Democratic Caucus!" Now imagine a headline like this on national morning news of January 9, 2008: "Edwards came in third in the New Hampshire Democratic Primary!" You got to believe that such headlines will subconsciously plant in the minds of other voters in the remaining states that maybe John Edwards is a loser! Heck, even this mental game plays into each and every candidate's minds as each caucus and primary continues day after day!

Sure, you can argue that each nominee have hired professional pollsters that will gauge potential voters in other states, but how aren't such polls on later states more of a measurement on the effects of the results from the first few caucuses and primaries rather than a measurement of whether voters will want to vote for him because of his beliefs and ideas?

If all states are forced to have their primaries and caucuses on the same day, we wouldn't have all these candidates dropping out, like John Edwards from the Democratic Party. For example, because of the staggering process, John Edwards decided to drop out on January 30 based on just a few early caucuses and primaries, right before the huge 24 state primaries and caucuses! And California, a big state with a huge number of delegates, has not even been decided on!!! If every state has their primaries and caucuses on the same day, and assuming that John Edwards won California with the same results of the current primaries and caucuses that occurred before February 5, 2008, there is a pretty good chance that he might still be in the race! But because he voluntarily dropped out, now California and Illinois have less candidates to nominate for the presidential race!

To me, that is all a crock of sh*t. After studying each major candidate's stand on issues and proposed policies, I have come to agree most with Chris Dodd. But because he had dropped out on January 3, 2008 right after losing the Iowa Caucus, I now can't get a chance to even nominate him in Illinois! Based on the extensive issues and positions each candidate stood in, here is my order of how much I agree with each candidate:
FIRST: Chris Dodd
SECOND: (tied) John Edwards and Dennis Kucinich
THIRD: Joe Bidden
FOURTH: Hillary Clinton
FIFTH: Mike Gravel
SIXTH: (tied) Barack Obama and Bill Richardson.

But thanks to both Iowa and New Hampshire, they have single handedly eliminated my top nominee! And this morning, I had to choose between the remaining candidates of Hillary Clinton, Mike Gravel and Barack Obama. All of whom I agreed the least with when it comes to issues and proposed policies!

So yes, I was happy that I voted today, but at the same time had a bittersweet feeling with the process. Much like how much I hate Lake Shore Drive because of the many pot holes it has, but I am forced to drive on it because I had no other choice. Dammit!!!

If you would like to see which candidate you most agree with, feel free to check out my spreadsheets for both the Democratic candidates and Republican candidates.

Basically, for each issue or policy, you highlight the box in green if you agree with the candidate's position 100%. If you totally disagree, you highlight the box in red. If you're indifferent to the position or cannot agree with everything a candidate proposes, you highlight it in yellow. (For example, I may agree with the position of having a single payer healthcare system, but I may disagree with how a specific candidate wants to fund such policy. In that case it would be yellow.) Then you tally up all the greens, and weigh it against the tally of the reds, and use the tally of the yellows as a deciding point. This is so much more accurate than those stupid websites like votechooser.com, because they only select a few issues, and over-generalize a candidate's position.

Have fun with it! You might even be surprised to see who you agree with the most! (The spreadsheets are compiled from CNN.com's profiles of each candidate.)

A January Reader's Digest

2008-02-04T16:01:00.001-06:00

Well, well, well. I guess I took quite a hiatus from blogging in the month of January. And it is not without reason, of course. You see, I had to take a last minute business trip to Seattle on the final week at IBM. It's kind of hard to prepare for an exit while you're on the road, you know. And then there were the sleepless nights working my butt off to make sure all unfinished business with IBM is taken care of.

So yeah, I started my new job on January 7! New business clothes? Check. Orientation? Check. Setting up direct deposit for my paychecks? Check. Getting my new laptop? Check. Requesting and confirming all new user IDs? Check. Set up pre-tax deductions of $123 a month for garage parking in the heart of downtown? Check. Department-specific orientation? Check. Meet teammates? Check.

What came next really caught me off guard. Almost immediately, I was swamped with work. As the only expert in the team, I was tasked with making sure one of our vendors is doing what they're supposed to be doing, and call them out if something is wrong with either the strategy or the planning. Well, guess what? Their proposed strategy and planning were filled with so many big holes that I even wondered what value we were getting from paying them huge dollars! Of course, I had to be the bad guy for asking the vendor to rework the strategy and plans, only to end up with me redoing the strategy and planning myself and asking if the vendor agrees. Grrr…

Then on Monday, January 14, I got into an automobile accident while leaving work. Chicago Cab number 4576 and my Freelander made contact. We were both stopped at the red light in our respective lanes, and for some reason when the light turned green and after we had begun driving forward, the cabbie drove into my lane and forced me to jump the curb with half my vehicle on the sidewalk! And the best part about all this? He turned into my lane just so he could drop off a passenger!!!

Of course, with my jaw on the floor in disbelief, I finally snapped out of it and jumped out of my car and gave chase on foot. Hell would freeze over before he could take off! After confronting the cabbie, I asked the passenger that was just dropped off if he could be my witness. Yes was the answer, and I was a happy man. Until the point in time when the cabbie and I went to the police station. The cabbie lied up and down and tried to pin the blame on me. But in the end, after the cabbie and I gave our version of the story and demonstrated how it all went down with two Matchbox vehicles, the police officer said while pointing at the cabbie, "Well, this is easy! You're unit 1." I guess in Chicago, they designate vehicles by unit, and a designation of unit 1 simply means that that vehicle is the striking vehicle, which 95% of the time meant at-fault. Of course, fault will have to be determined by the insurance companies. But this was good enough for me.

So a good part of my January was spent on taking my Freelander in for an appraisal, setting up an appointment to have my vehicle fixed, and picking it up. What a pain in the ass that was!

And then there was January 19, the day of my 30th birthday. Unbeknownst to me, Rosa had planned a huge surprise party for me. She nonchalantly asked me to dinner and told me that it was just going to be Cesar, Sabine, she and I. I was supposed to arrive at 19:00, but because it was unbelievably cold that day, I decided to run my 13 miles on the treadmill. I actually hit the wall around mile 10, so I started slowing down for the remaining three. Of course, that all snowballed into my arrival at Morseland at 19:50.

When I first walked in, I saw Cesar and Sabine on the table. As I approached the table and explained why I was running late and inquiring as to why they wanted to be there at 19:00 sharp despite my calling him at the gym to push dinner back to 19:30, I noticed Myke sitting next to him. My initial reaction was bewilderment, because they're my friends, but not in the same circle. Then I started noticing his wife Sharyl, and quickly said hello before asking, "What are you guys doing here?"

Just as I asked that question, I noticed Cliff sitting there. I looked at him funny, and said, "Hey Cliff..." Then it finally dawned on me that I was staring down a looong table filled with familiar faces! And then, "Surprise!!!" Wow! I was pleasantly surprised, even though I have never celebrated my own birthday or broadcasted it. I just personally believe that it is not as important of a date as, say, Memorial Day, or Independence Day, you know?

So good food, great dancing and wonderful music were had by all that evening. Of course I, on the other hand, had 11 shots of hard liquor of assorted types in a matter of just two hours. Needless to say, the tasty (and expensive, I might add) seafood jambalaya dinner I had turned out to be a total waste, because it didn't take long before I had to go to the bathroom and vomit. After that, I felt super fine, just as if I had not touched any alcohol. Unfortunately, the downside to vomiting your entire dinner out is the fact that I got hungry right away. So after the party, on my way home, I made damn sure that Rosa stopped by a McDonald's so that I could order a McChicken Sandwich® and six pieces of Chicken McNuggets®. Yeah, I was that hungry.

Another thing that contributed to my blogging hiatus in the month of January was the NFL playoffs. The Chicago Bears may not be in the playoffs, but I still love football. And I passionately despise the Patriots, mostly because I can never stand Tom Brady. He is by far one of the whiniest quarterbacks in the NFL. And to add to my despise for the Patriots, they actually got caught cheating at the beginning of the season! I have no sympathy for cheaters. In fact, I only wish for cheaters to lose every single time. And worst of all is Bill Belichick's very unsportsmanlike behavior throughout the season. After annihilating a weaker team, common courtesy still dictate you exchange at the very least a few words and a bare minimum of a handshake. He was so cocky that he never did either of those throughout the season!

Because of all that along with my passion for football, I followed every single post season game the Patriots was in, and rooted for Jaguars and Chargers. That in turn left no room (or time) for me to write fanciful blogs to keep you apprised and/or entertained.

The next thing that kept me away from my blogging duties was the mere fact that a majority of my friends' birthdays are in January. I cannot even begin to count how many times I have gone out to eat and celebrate birthday dinners, not to mention having Mexican food two weekends in a row. Thankfully, I like Mexican. But it certainly wasn't friendly to my digestive system nor was it good for my marathon training. There was even a week in January when every single evening was filled with some good activities!

Besides working late a lot of nights due to poor vendor showing, I also had to work late a couple nights to sort out my benefits elections. Coming from IBM, I am accustomed to health insurance benefits that even leave something to be desired for in my new health benefits offerings, considering that I work for a premier healthcare system in the Chicagoland! But after a couple nights of careful consideration, I have finally made my elections. It all boiled down to picking the lesser of four evils, basically. But I'm covered now, so that's good.

And the final thing that has kept me preoccupied for the most part of January is the running. Although I'm not officially registered for a Spring marathon, but I'm training as if I have a marathon coming up. In an effort to keep the traditional annual winter weight off, I decided to train with Danielle. She's got a marathon to run in April, but I'm just keeping up with the training. It's only easy for me, because she's a much slower runner than I am. In January alone, I've ran 10, 11, 13 and 13 miles for each of my long runs on Saturdays. Ain't that shit crazy?

So folks, there you have it! My entire January summarized. And no, I didn't fall off the face of the earth. And I'm still alive and kicking. Kind of. Hopefully now I'm able to return to my regularly scheduled blogging patterns. =)

Tip of the Day

2008-01-19T12:04:00.000-06:00

Never blow your nose or clear out any blockages in your nasal cavities while dropping the kids off at the pool the morning after having an extraordinary meal the previous day. Say, something like Indian food...

Hard to Say Goodbye

2008-01-03T23:54:00.000-06:00

As I write this blog entry on my final flight home from a business trip, I looked back at the achievements that I had accomplished and the life experiences that I had gone through just in the last four months at Boeing. Sure, I may have sarcastically joked at how I hated traveling to Seattle, but truth be told, Boeing has been one of my favorite clients in a long time.

I flew in for just a day and half because not only did I have to return my Boeing issued property such as the laptop assigned to me, but I also had to run a meeting to transfer my knowledge on an otherwise huge side project that I had been tasked to do. They thought I would see through that side project till final implementation, but unfortunately (for Boeing), a better opportunity presented itself to me.

First of all, I hit the ground running at Boeing when I first arrived in September of 2007. Within a matter of weeks, I impressed the client so much that director's manager gave me one of the highest performance awards Boeing has, the Boeing Pride Award. Better still, I was not even a Boeing employee!

In the relatively short four months I was in Seattle, I was able to hang out with my college buddy Elle and her boyfriend almost once a week. I met and dated Traci briefly, and made a new friend Danielle. To add to my ego boost, I did so well at Boeing that they did not hesitate to sign an extension contract with IBM that would have kept me at Boeing through the next three quarters! I was really looking forward to that, because it meant more skiing opportunities at Whistler for me, and plenty of time to hang out with my friends Elle and Changren.

Of course, as we all know, I recently accepted a new job that will keep me afoot in Chicago. And during the conclusion of the meeting I ran today, I had such great feedback from my clients. All the hard work and sweat paid off. All those kind words were so positive that I wanted to cry. There was no doubt in my mind that had the new opportunity not arise, my stint at Boeing would have elevated my career. (Read promotion.)

As I turned over the Boeing property and spoke with the client director for the last time, I was at a loss for words other than simple thank you's. I have never been too good with saying goodbyes, especially after forming a special relationship with a client. I'm so going to miss Boeing.

Of course, once I receive my new iPod Shuffle in the mail, I will have a kind reminder of Boeing every time I use it. Because one of my wrap-ups was to redeem the points I received as a result of the Boeing Pride Award, and in doing so, I was shocked to realize how much 100 points were worth! About $100!!! If I had known it was worth that much, I would have redeemed it a long time ago! I thought 100 points were only worth a pen and pencil set, or some golf tees, or whatnot.

Thanks, Boeing, for the opportunities and memories!!!

Hotel a la Carte

2008-01-03T23:53:00.000-06:00

For some odd reason, the Hilton Seattle no longer has the IBM negotiated rate in 2008. Instead of the usual suspects of hotels that usually pop up in the IBM online travel reservation tool, I was presented with a whole set of unfamiliar new hotels! The Hotel Vintage Park by Kimpton looked interesting, because it looked like a nice and classic hotel with rich interior decors. Plus, the website did a good job selling that property that I was won over. So I booked my stay at the Hotel Vintage Park.

When I arrived, I was quickly under whelmed. The room was tiny. And worst of all, the lobby could not provide me with complimentary toothpaste like most other hotel chains such as the Hilton or Marriott! Instead, I was forced to go through this basket filled with bottled waters, snacks, candies, a DVD about the state of Washington, and other miscellaneous junk. This basket contained a small, travel-sized package of toothpaste. I looked at the basket price list, which was separate from the mini-bar price list, and was shocked to see that I would be charged four freaking dollars for a toothpaste that was probably expired!

Bastards!

At first, I didn't deduct many points off of my personal review of this hotel. I was still relatively impressed, given the rich linens used in the bedding, and the interior décor. I thought it was rather neat at how they made the hotel room all romantic. The entire hotel had a wine theme, and each room was given a Washington winery name on top of the usual room numbers. I thought that was cute. And plus, I have read online that the hotel is good for romantic getaways and couples.

Then I kind of got a little nauseated later on. I noticed that perhaps the hotel was a bit too romantic. I mean, I'm on a business trip, and I expected the IBM negotiated hotels to be more on the professional side instead of romantic. All along the wall next to the bed was a giant mirror, extending the entire length of the king size bed. All the décor had red color as its central theme. And in the closet hung a couple soft and supple bathrobes with leopard prints.

LEOPARD PRINTS!!!

And to make things all the more kinky, I saw in the aforementioned basket price list an item costing $14 called, "Intimacy Kit." When I saw that, I quickly stared at the bed, and hoped that the linen was super cleaned with no remnants of any human DNA left. This would be my turning point in my personal review of this property from good to bad.

Then, as nature would have it, nature called. I went to the bathroom, and at first glance, things looked fine. But perched atop the toilet flush tank cover was yet another price list. Holy shit! Apparently, they charge you for almost every single thing, including the cotton swabs that are typically complimentary at most other hotels!

When I had finished dropping the kids off at the pool, I turned towards the toilet paper. Right before I tore off some squares, I made sure that there was no rolling counter installed on the toilet paper dispenser, as well as double-checking the bathroom price list to ensure that I wouldn't be charged extra for each sheet of luxury toilet paper.

Thank goodness the toilet paper was free. I have never, ever stayed in such an a la carte hotel that nickel and dime'd its guests! One thing was for sure though. I will never again stay at another Kimpton hotel ever again. Not even for my future honeymoon, if God willing.

My Crooked Back

2008-01-03T23:52:00.000-06:00

After waking up hung over on New Year's Day, I promptly went home to check my work email. I didn't get an email response from my client instructing me not to come to Seattle, so I quickly booked a flight out that night as well as a hotel reservation. I was pretty sure I was done with traveling, but I guess this will be my absolute last trip.

Given the fact that it was already 15:30, and my booked flight was to depart at 20:00, I quickly showered and did laundry. I was down on the wire when it came to clean underwear, because I was on the last clean pair. After running around like a headless chicken, I finally managed to leave my house with enough time to swing by Maria's place to pick up some yummy dinner she had prepared and drop off the second Nintendo Wii that my sister decided not to get.

As it had been snowing all day and night of New Year's Eve, as well as through the entire New Year's Day, it didn't occur to me that flights might be affected. By the time I got to Midway International, I discovered that my flight's departure time was delayed from 20:00 to 21:20. Ugh!

And of course, I wasn't prepared for the massive crowd that awaited me at the security lines. Aside from the fact that I was tired and hung over from New Year's Eve celebration, I also had not been traveling for about a month, which made me rather rusty. And on top of that, I didn't think people would be traveling on New Year's Day. I only had to fly on that day because I had business to tend to for work.

Through all the madness, I finally got to the security checkpoint. If there is one thing I have to complain about having Boeing as my client, it would have to be the fact that I had to carry a Boeing issued laptop with me. That typically meant that in addition to my laptop bag and a carry-on roller bag, I also needed three baskets: one for my shoes and coat, one for my IBM issued laptop, and another one for my Boeing laptop. It certainly slowed me down when it comes to effortless and smooth transition in the security checkpoint.

After all that hassle, I finally collected my personal artifacts at the other side of the security checkpoint, while laughing at the woman still in line who was ahead of me, because she had way too many things. I thought she had bottomless pockets in her coat and jeans! As I walked away, I quickly realized that I had accidentally left the dinner Maria had prepared for me on the unsecured side of the checkpoint!

DAMN!!!

As there were still plenty of time left before I would have to board my flight, I thought I could make a last ditch effort to see if any of the fine TSA security agents had my dinner in custody. As luck would have it, a very courteous and nice TSA agent (shocker!) on the secured side of the checkpoint was carrying the bag of dinner, and was about to inspect to make sure it wasn't a "suspicious" package left by some terrorists. I recognized the bag immediately, and begged if I could have my dinner. I was hoping he wouldn't have to use his dirty little paws to go through my dinner. I mean, who knew where his hands had been. For all I know, he could have been using them all day to perform full body cavity search on suspicious passengers!!!

After finishing my sandwich, which I had requested Maria to pack, I was shocked to see that she had included a second plate. I thought it was more of the pepperoni pockets that Amy R had made for the party, so I tore at it. But when I peeled back the aluminum foil, I saw a whole personal size strawberry tart pie! Damn! Maria is the best!

So far, my final business trip started out badly with the horrible delay, but it was quickly overshadowed by Maria's little nice surprise. That is until I got on the plane after it had finally left Baltimore and landed in Chicago.

After we had all boarded our flight, we had to wait longer because the ground crews were overworked and could not load our bags into our plane well after our plane was deiced. And on top of that, as a rusty road warrior, I had totally forgotten to look for the right seats. As soon as I saw an open middle seat in the exit aisle, I quickly jumped at it. I totally forgot to notice that A) the man and woman on either sides were quite large, and B) they were a husband and a wife who were so big that they couldn't sit next to each other!

Unfortunately, it was all too late by the time I realized that I had picked the absolutely worst seat in the house. Or plane. And right after the plane took off, I realized that their teenage son was sitting across the center aisle on the other side of the plane!

So what is wrong with sitting next to two large people, you might ask? Well, normally, it's not all that bad. But in this particular situation, it was extremely horrible, because the husband to my right was top heavy. His left shoulder and arm went past the imaginary personal space border by about three inches, causing me to lean to my left. And his wife to my left was bottom heavy. I could not put my left armrest all the way down, because her right hip and thigh extended past the armrest by three inches into my seat!

So here I was, sitting crookedly, with my hip to the right, and my upper torso to my left. And the flight was a cool four hours long! In my seven year experience as a road warrior, I have never been subjected to such uncomfortable contortion of my body! I was leaning to my left side, but I couldn't support myself because if I use my left arm to lean on my left armrest, then it would be pushing down on the woman's leg fat. The last thing I needed was being barked at with: "Can't you see that you're pinching my leg when you lean on the armrest?"

By the time our flight landed in Seattle, my lower back was in pain, and I could feel a kink when I slung my laptop bag over my shoulders. As I stumbled out of the terminal, I thought to myself, What a way to take my final outbound business flight! How memorable!

The Mile High Club

2008-01-03T23:50:00.000-06:00

[Note: I originally wrote this blog on the plane a long time ago, and never publised it. While cleaning up my laptop before I return it to IBM, I discovered this somewhat dated material. Why waste it, right? So here you go...]

Ever since my college friend's then-boyfriend bragged about getting it on with her while on a plane, I have always wondered about what it would be like to join the ranks of the famous rockers of years past, and the elite few who were able to do the nearly impossible.

As someone who is totally afraid of germs and getting sick, I try my utmost best not to use the lavatory on planes other than to take a piss. But in all of my travels, nearly twice a week domestically for the last six and a half years and a few international flights scattered in, I have only taken a big ol' dump on the plane just once. It was out of sheer desperation, for otherwise I would never allow myself such nastiness. And given that it was a newer Boeing 737-700 with the redesigned lavatories affording bigger space, I still managed to have a near impossible time bending my torso and navigating myself in a lavatory just to take a dump. By myself.

Yeah, you can say that I'm a very curious person. And I, too, covet that honorary medal of the mile high club. But given the logistic of things, namely the physics of two bodies thrusting in synchronization, I thought it was practically impossible. Hell, I was bumping walls and knocking my elbows and knees just to get my pants down to shit! Unless, of course, you charter one of those specialty flights I once blogged about. (Click on the link to read the story.)

Then, my sliver of a dream finally came true, with the Airbus A380. If you're not familiar with at least commercial aviation, I pity you the ignorant. ;-) Anyway, the Airbus A380 is the newest largest plane to navigate our skies, taking the trophy away from the venerable Boeing 787. Originally, nobody thought the plane would ever fly, fearing that no airline will purchase one, and no airport will want to accommodate such monstrosity. After all, it is a double-decker plane!!!

Well, Singapore Airlines became the first airline to take flight with its new aircraft. It is also one of the first to reveal its cabin configuration, something which is considered almost a trade secret among airlines when it comes to seating capacity, arrangement, and the sorts before flying its new fleet of new model planes.

I was rather pleased to learn that Singapore Airlines will be the first airline ever to provide a cabin with a double bed! Aha! So there is still a way of being inducted into the Mile High Club. Yes, my dream continues to live! Just as long as I earn enough money to pay for something like that, seeing how my bare inability to pay even coach fare when traveling abroad even now.

And the best parts of it all? It's not like one of those semi-private partitions where fellow passengers can see you when they stand up, but a real room with walls! And to put the final cherry on that cake, endless champagne is included. Sounds like one of those all-inclusive resorts in Mexico to me, except in the air!!!

Of course, all good things, or imaginations, must come to a crashing end. Times of London had this to report in its article on the new double bed cabin:
"A380 may have the world's first airborne double bed, but it won't be put to the obvious use if Singapore Airlines has its way." (Note: I added the emphasis.)

Of course, Singapore Airlines spokesperson Stephen Forshaw had this to say about the potential hanky panky after Singapore Airlines' inaugural Airbus A380 flight:
"If couples used our double beds to engage in inappropriate activity, we would politely ask them to desist."

Damn!

What a perfect waste of unlimited champagne. =)

Brown Can Do More For Me!

2007-12-28T14:26:00.001-06:00

When I was in college, I didn't care which courier I used when I ship important things. Just as long as it was not the United States Postal Service, I was content. Then later on, FedEx gave me the opportunity to open an account, and along with that, a small discount on all shipping services as long as I prepare shipments online.

Things with FedEx were okay. I mean, they have never disappointed me. But at the same time, I have never had to rely on them too heavily, such as an emergency rush of a delivery, or whatever.

To me, whether I ship my things through FedEx, UPS or DHL, they are all about the same to me. Much like how careless I could give when deciding between bottled waters from Dasani or Aquafina. Despite my indifference in shipping preferences, I have always noticed that whenever I order things online, UPS seems to be quite generous.

For example, I ordered something online that would be shipped from California. I wasn't in a hurry to get it, so I chose the cheapest UPS service: UPS Ground. Now mind you, UPS 3 Day would be significantly more, but I wasn't in a hurry. But whenever I track the package, I could see that it was making its way pretty quickly to Chicago! And before I knew it, the package was delivered ahead of schedule. In three days! And that instance wasn't the only time UPS had delivered my purchases speedily. I've always thought that the reason why it was quick to get to Chicago was because UPS must use Chicago as a regional sorting facility.

Well, having known that all along, I still ship my own packages out through FedEx. Like I said, the choice didn't matter to me, so I always go with FedEx because I already had an account with them.

But this will cease and desist from this day forth! I will not patronize FedEx anymore. Nosireebob!

Why? Let me show you why. Last week, I sent a tiny package out to a dear friend of mine who lives near Tulsa, Oklahoma. Just look at the picture below, which is the tracking of my package...

Oh man, FedEx really knows how to make customers feel less of a customer. First of all, the package arrived on Christmas Eve, a day that FedEx still make deliveries. Sure, I can understand if they couldn't deliver my package (more like an envelope weighing less than a pound!) on Christmas Eve because they may have a gazillion priority packages to deliver that day. But what about December 26, or 27? They purposely let the small 1 lb envelope sit for two days just because I paid for the Express Saver service! What the hell?!? If it's already there, just deliver the damn thing! Why even wait? Just get the job over with!

Truth be told, I wasn't really pissed about that. I was simply annoyed. But what really made me want to abandon using FedEx is the fact that they left the package on the front door, citing my release authorization! (Look at the picture again.) If you're not familiar with courier services, the sender can authorize the courier to leave the package if nobody is home to sign it. Problem is that I have never made such authorization! WTF?!?

I did some research, and it said that my authorization signature is on file. What?!? Okay, if I were to go to a FedEx facility and process a shipment normally using their paper AirBill, there is a little box at the bottom that allows me to authorize FedEx to deliver without a signature. Leave that exception alone or unchecked, then FedEx will default to requiring signatures just as usual.

Well, when I prepared my shipment online, I didn't explicitly give them the authorization to deliver the package without a signature. In fact, I didn't even go through the Options screen, where I can specify COD, special day pickup/delivery, and delivery signature options. If I didn't go through that, how the hell did FedEx assume that I gave them authorization?

I even went so far as to look through my Account Preferences settings, but I could find no such default authorization for ALL my shipments I prepare online!

So, what's up with FedEx? I'm not pissed yet, but if that package gets stolen, then there will be hell to pay for FedEx! In the meantime, I will never, ever use FedEx for any of my shipping needs anymore. In fact, I'm switching over to Brown, also known as UPS, the company that started out over 100 years ago running illegal drug deliveries in Seattle. I don't care about UPS' tainted past, but it seems like Brown sure knows how to treat their customers right. At least they won't let a package sit for days just for the hell of it.

"You Sure Know How to Stuff Someone's Christmas Stocking!"

2007-12-26T15:02:00.001-06:00

That was the first thing my manager said to me over the phone right after he had messaged me over our corporate instant messaging service to call him when I had a minute.

What would precipitate this, you might wonder. Well, I certainly did not send him a Christmas gift that he had always wanted. In fact, the statement above is more of sarcasm than anything else. Whether it was said in a jovial or serious tone was hard to tell, because of his deadpanning voice, although he did assure me that it was a joke after a five second silence.

You see, I finally received the long-awaited letter in the mail on Monday, Christmas Eve. The letter said something to the effect of, "Bla bla bla, congratulations, bla bla bla, welcome, bla bla bla, January 7." In other words, I have been extended an offer of employment at Northwestern Memorial Hospital, a premier employer in Chicago.

Anyway, excitement aside, the offer letter came in the narrowest of times. If I were to start on January 7, then Christmas Eve effectively would be two weeks exactly. So I had to put in my two weeks' notice this Monday, lest I ask to start on January 14 instead.

And because it is quite typical for people to be out shopping or spending time with families on Christmas Eve, I didn't want to call my manager on Monday afternoon. Instead, I emailed him my resignation letter, and ended with the offer for him to call me up on my personal cell phone at any time he feels like it. Of course I knew he was in for a shocker come Christmas day, but it was the lesser of the two evils, you know?

Unfortunately, I did ruin my manager's Christmas, because I saw last night that he had read my email. He just chose to communicate with me today. What can I say? This is an awesome opportunity. And here are the reasons why:

1. Northwestern Memorial Hospital: This is Northwestern Memorial Hospital! Not only is it a leading hospital in the nation, but it is also a company that takes pride in its community involvement, which is something I sorely miss with my traveling job that I've had for the past seven years.

2. Chicagoan Transition: I moved to Chicago on June 21, 2004, and I have never been able to enjoy the benefits of being a Chicagoan. In my line of work, I travel out of town four or five days a week, for almost every single week of the year. The only exception was this year, when I landed the Zurich/Farmers Insurance project, which kept me in the Schaumburg suburb for the most of January through July. Although that was good in the sense that I didn't travel, but that didn't count because it was worse than traveling out of town. Not only did I not get a meal allowance, but I spent more than an hour each way driving to and from work! My days were longer, and to make matters worse, a lot of the work involved my participation on weekends. I didn't handle the Tuesdays and Wednesdays as my weekends.

3. Personal Activities: Now I can partake in sports leagues! The only reason why I began running is because I found out pretty quickly in the first year of my career that it was quite hard to play basketball or football when I was on the road. Aside from the fact that I couldn't locate a gym or field, I also couldn't find people to play with. With running being a single person sport, I decided to get into it. But now, I can join sports leagues, which often have games during the week. On top of that, I now can get myself involved in volunteerism to better my community, something which I could never do.

4. Girls: Please don't get me wrong, as there is absolutely nothing wrong with the girls from out of town (or from Chicago for that matter), but I'm quite looking forward to dating girls here in Chicago. Granted, I've only been in a relationship with out of town girls twice (or was it thrice) in my seven year career, but it was certainly not easy leaving the girl on the weekends nonetheless. And on the flipside, when I wasn't seeing anybody from out of town, the girls here in Chicago either would suspect my leeward ways, or be sick and tired of not seeing me more often. Well, with my new local job, I get to hear the true reasons why I'm not a keeper for them. Maybe I'm truly a fugly looking ass? =)

5. Real Holidays: One thing about my line of work is that most companies would prefer to let their own employees off for holidays, and pay companies like IBM to send out someone to do something like a major upgrade during the holidays. In the last seven years, I have had my share of working through holidays, without extra pay. Well, come January 7, working through holidays will be no more. Guaranteed! In fact, I won't have to worry about having to do any major work during major weekends either, because Northwestern Memorial Hospital, being a major hospital in the downtown area, has a policy of change freeze during both holidays and times when the city expects lots of tourists, such as during events like Taste of Chicago and the Chicago Marathon. The idea is that during such times where there are many tourists, the hospital naturally will see more patients than it normally would otherwise, so the stability of their computer systems become more critical. One of the surest ways to maintain stability is to not introduce any changes, such as a system upgrade, during peak visitors periods! In other words, I get to participate in big Chicago events without having to worry about working! Yay!

6. Park and Shop: Okay, this one may be kind of gay, but hear me out on this. As long as I'm an employee of Northwestern Memorial Hospital and living outside of certain designated downtown area, I'm eligible to get a spot in one of several downtown parking garages for $123 a month (pretax income)! I have access to my spot 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and 365.25 days a year! I might not even drive to work and opt to bike in during non winter days, but the prospect of having a prime parking spot reserved for me in the heart of downtown certainly will alleviate a lot of aches when needing to get to downtown without relying on the ~~reliable~~ CTA buses and trains. How awesome is this?

7. Almost a Dream Job: This is almost a dream job! When I moved to Chicago, I had every intention to work for Northwestern Memorial Hospital. But I had to wait, because I knew at that time that their hospital systems were running on Hewlett Packard's VMS operating system, and my expertise is on IBM's AIX operating system. I knew for a while that sooner or later, Northwestern Memorial Hospital will be making the switch, but it was only a rumor for years. Returning to healthcare is something I've always wanted, because there is something good in knowing that I indirectly affect peoples' lives. I enjoyed that dependency. Not to mention that there will always be plenty of eye candy at the cafeteria during lunch while watching fresh interns waltz in by the groups! Now, this is almost a dream job because my true dream job is to sleep-test every single mattress made by any of the major (preferably upscale) mattress companies or write/report for traveling shows. Seeing that I never run across such a job posting in the papers or on monster.com, I suspect that my dream job probably doesn't exist.

Now, on the flip side, there are definitely some cons in taking this dream job...

1. Visiting Cities: I will no longer fly out to different places across the Americas, and visit all the beautiful cities (and not so beautiful ones like Detroit or Cleveland). In my seven year career as a consultant, some of my memorable cities include Denver (where I dated Patrycja), Montreal Canada (where I had hooked up with a hot girl from a local dance club), Seattle (once while working for Cerner, and now while for IBM), New York City (where I dated Mariola), Baltimore, Toronto Canada, Petoskey Michigan, and New Orleans (where I had to escape Hurricane Evan the Terrible and drive for hours to Houston). Now, I'll be stuck in Chicago, and the only way I'll ever visit other cities would be personal vacationing.

2. No More Freebies: Definitely no more per diems or meal allowances. I have to pay for my own food from now on. On top of that, no more frequent flier points from Southwest Airlines (which I typically get about 10 free round trip tickets a year), and once my Southwest Airlines Companion Pass expires this coming February, I will never be able to fly someone with me for free. No more earning hotel points for personal use on vacations. Definitely no more Diamond VIP status at Hilton properties, which provided me with free upgrades to their best rooms, access to their Executive Lounges for free breakfasts, hors d'oeuvres and drinks at night. At least I can still redeem my hotel points for vacationing though...

3. Higher Cost of Living: Now that I won't be traveling, I won't be driving rental cars with gas paid for by my clients. I now need to budget in monthly gasoline expenses, which was pretty much negligible in the past. Furthermore, I'll also have to factor in higher expenses for toiletries, like shampoo, soap and toilet paper. As someone who is quite regular when it comes to human waste excrements, the frequent toilet paper buying will be quite painful.

4. Environmental Impact: A couple years ago, I justified the purchase of my Land Rover because it was the smallest SUV and that I wouldn't be driving it often while I am constantly out of town. But now that I'll be living in Chicago all the time, I can only imagine driving my Land Rover more frequently now. I don't want to waste money to buy another vehicle, but I feel the need to buy a hybrid vehicle. This is still a toss up right now.

5. Discounts: I know this may be trivial to some people, but I have come to enjoy the discount benefits from IBM and its affiliation with so many companies. I get significant discounts from places like General Electric, Panasonic, Apple, Sony, Sharp, mortgage companies on home loans, Ford Motor Company, General Motors, Chrysler, Audi, AT&T, and many, many more. A lot of things I currently own were acquired, or services currently use came courtesy of the IBM discount program. I'm going to miss this very, very much.

6. Different Hos in Different Area Codes: Totally kidding here. ;-)

Well, overall, I think my personal life will definitely improve by leaps and bounds. And for the first time in my life, I'll probably get to enjoy more of the culinary wonders Chicago has to offer instead of experimenting with all sorts of foods from all over the country.

This is definitely a brand new chapter in my life which I can safely claim that I'll gladly embrace. I can't wait till January 7 arrives. My new life will be...

Wait for it...

Legendary!

Hey... It's December 25...

2007-12-25T14:52:00.001-06:00

Merry Christmas to my readers!

I'm not even entirely certain if I have any readers out there, but if you do exist, my apologies for long absence. A lot of things have been happening, but I wanted to assure you that most of the things happening in my life are time sensitive, especially in a public forum where anybody in the world can read my life. All good things come to those who wait! =)

And I wish you a wonderful New Year for this holiday season! Be safe, and have lots of fun!

Yet Another iPhone Commentary

2007-12-25T14:43:00.000-06:00

So last night, I met a nice guy (whose name shall remain anonymous) who was a staunch iPhone fanatic. He works in the technology field just like me. And we had a HUGE debate about my Nokia N95 versus his Apple iPhone, after a mutual friend explained that I was that iPhone hater who wrote that blog. Apparently, he had read my previous post reviewing the iPhone.

He started off with telling me how flawed my reviews were. As he picked one by one each of my points I had mentioned, the underlying theme of the debate had turned into technology. My argument was that 3G technology has been around for so many years, why would a bleeding technology company such as Apple not incorporate 3G? His response was that by including 3G, the iPhone will have to be thicker and the battery life will be shorter.

My response was that the inclusion of 3G in the iPhone wouldn't have made a significantly thicker iPhone than it is today. Furthermore, battery life should not be a factor, because everybody knows 3G inherently burns more energy. If you take the same car and drive down the same highway, but in one instance you drive it at 65 miles per hour in just the third gear, and in another instance you drive it at the same speed but in fifth gear, it becomes a no brainer that you wouldn't go nearly as far on the same tank of gas if you limit yourself to just the third gear. But you would have unbelievably high torque to work with.

Another reason why battery life wouldn't matter is because if Nokia's Symbian software could include the ability for me to set the phone to use just GSM, 3G, or combination of both depending on priority, why couldn't Apple have done the same thing? Steve Jobs' claim that the inclusion of 3G in the iPhone will drastically drain the battery. But that's assuming that it is operating on 3G only. Is there a need to be tied to the 3G protocol when you're not using your phone, just sitting there waiting to receive a call? No. A smart computer company such as Apple could have easily added similar toggle, just like Samsung has with its Blackjack, or any other company that manufactures 3G capable phones.

A point that no one in the iPhone camp want to even address is the fact that, yes, 3G protocol can eat up your battery juice pretty fast, but in real life, does it? Think of it this way... We all know from dslreports.com that AT&T's 3G network is capable of downloading at 1 Mbps (megabits per second), almost as fast as high speed DSL Internet connection at home. Not to mention that I have routinely hit that transfer rate for the most part of my web browsing time. But the older EDGE technology network (which iPhone relies on for its Internet browsing) only has the transfer rate of 100 kbps, which amounts to about 10% of the 3G download speed.

So if I were to go to a data-heavy website like MySpace.com, I might have burned up more battery juice at the rate I download the page, but it would only take me about 5 seconds to complete the page download on my N95. Compare that to the iPhone, which may take about 15 to 20 seconds to complete the page download. Sure, the battery consumption rate is slower on the iPhone than my N95, but you spend almost 4 times longer burning up the battery. In the end, isn't that negligible? It's like burning gas at 20 miles per gallon (rate) if you drive a distance of 20 miles at a faster speed, versus burning gas at 35 miles per gallon (rate) over the same distance but at a crawling speed. In the end, you spend more time burning gas just to cover 20 miles, even though the rate of gas burn-off is slower while driving slowly than driving fast.

Why can't iPhone lovers not understand this mere fact? Expert unbiased reviews have not deducted points off of the Nokia N95 in any comparison tests to the Apple iPhone because 3G uses more battery, mostly because they know this fact. But go to a web site that practically puts Apple on the altar as its god will always use this 3G battery utilization as a "winning" argument, never mind the fact that it'll take the iPhone longer to download the same content.

During this debate about the inclusion of the 3G chip, I theorized that the true reason why Apple did not include the 3G chip is probably because they want the iPhone to be as profitable as possible. Currently, any cellular phone manufacturer who includes 3G capabilities pay a small fee to Qualcomm, because Qualcomm holds the patents on some, if not most, of the underlying 3G communication technologies. It's either that, or they pay Qualcomm to use Qualcomm's chips in the cell phone. Either way, it eats into the profitability of a cellular phone. But my friend wouldn't hear of this.

Now, I suspect this is the case, because Apple only decided to bring a 3G-capable iPhone to the market "sometime in 2008" well after Nokia's legal battle with Qualcomm has commenced. Qualcomm feels like they deserve to be paid licensing fees for the use of their 3G technology, whereas Nokia's argument is that such a universally broad application should become public domain. Of course, the legal battle between these two companies is far from over, but I strongly suspect, as do Steve Jobs, that Nokia will prevail in the end. Once Qualcomm's claim to key 3G technology becomes public domain, Apple can include any 3G chipset they want for a lower cost than now. Of course, once the legal battle ends favorably for Nokia, well, the price of existing 3G phones will drop like flies from the sky, and future models will start selling for cheaper. My whole point here is that I don't think it is mere coincidence that Steve Jobs would hint at a 3G version of the iPhone when the legal battle between Nokia and Qualcomm got heated up in the last two months.

On a final note regarding 3G, Steve Jobs have also said that he is waiting for a company to provide a 3G chipset that could use lower power. There are some in the industry who believe that Broadcom's new BCM21551 chipset might be the answer to Steve Jobs' prayers, but let's not forget that companies like Broadcom do not sell their products exclusively to a single original equipment manufacturer. In fact, when Broadcom announced its revolutionary chipset, they have also indicated that they have sent samples of the chip to several companies. So by the time the iPhone includes 3G with lower battery consumption than it is today, let's not forget that companies like Nokia will probably be using the same thing from Broadcom or similar from another chipset manufacturer that will even out the playing field. All of a sudden, the same Nokia N95 manufactured after the adoption of the new chip becomes less power hungry! (Just like the same Xbox 360 built after October 18, 2007 suddenly became less power hungry, because Microsoft began using the Falcon motherboard. Same product, but a vast improvement due to the availability of better raw materials.)

Now, another sore point of discussion I had with this friend was regarding the browser. I don't understand why Apple fans seem to claim that the Safari browser is entirely Apple's brainchild. Only Apple fanatics who are also true technology enthusiasts will realize that the Safari web browser is based on the open source development of WebKit. I told him that for almost three years now, the Symbian S60 operating system (which Nokia has implemented on the Nokia N95, as well as the majority of the N series) has always included web browsers based on the very same open source WebKit. In fact, Nokia's decision to ditch their own home-brewed browser for the open source WebKit was announced on November 2, 2005!

What I could not get across to my friend was the fact that Nokia for a while has been able to browse the full Internet long before Apple's claims in their iPhone advertisements that the iPhone is the first to be able to browse the real Internet Internet. His defense? He doesn't watch TV, so he isn't aware of the specific television advertisement I was referring to. Never mind the fact that all of Apple's iPhone advertisements are available for viewing on Apple's website.

What bothers me the most is that most people share the same misconception as my friend, that the Safari browser is purely Apple's own technology. And even on Apple-centric websites, they have written in articles in such a way that they call the open source WebKit the "Safari WebKit," as if WebKit was a product of Apple! How would you feel if you put Shell gasoline in the Honda, and begin calling the same gasoline the Honda gasoline? And then further perpetuate the misleading fact by talking about other products, like a Land Rover, that it copied Honda by using the Honda gasoline? Seriously! WebKit is not Apple's product, much like the gasoline is not Honda's product!!!

Of course, my friend thought the Safari browser was based on the KDS, which I thought was kind of weird in the fact that KDS is a shell environment for Unix. I countered the fact that it was based on the same engine as Mozilla, which of course he disputed. In reality, the Mozilla browser is not based on the open source WebKit. I thought it was because a few months ago, Mozilla has publicly opined that they might ditch the Gecko engine and base Mozilla 2.0 on WebKit. I thought the decision had been made, but a quick research revealed not to be the case. So I was wrong in stating that the Safari browser uses the same technology as Mozilla-based browsers.

In any case, his whole closing argument was that all my points of review on the iPhone was all flawed, basing purely on the fact that consumers are willing to get the iPhone because they are well aware of the limitations iPhone has. To this point, I strongly disagree that any of my arguments are flawed, because if a consumer never has owned a real smartphone like some of Nokia's offering and then make the jump to the iPhone, it is by far a huge step forward including the limitations. But for early technology adopters like myself, for whom the N95 is his fifth real smartphone in as little as four years, it is certainly a hard pill to swallow and accept the iPhone when you know that all the features you've relied on just don't exist in the iPhone. Can you imagine having lived with a mouse on a computer for several years, but then Apple makes a sleek new computer but left out the mouse, leaving you with just the keyboard? Once you're accustomed to certain new technology features, especially for years, and especially when such features are already common standards from most manufacturers, it doesn't make any sense whatsoever for Apple to exclude those features in the iPhone.

That is why I maintain that the iPhone was a rushed project. Apple should have waited longer before launching the iPhone. I suspect that they couldn't wait a day longer because the Nokia N95 was already a one year old smartphone. I also suspect that Apple knew that Nokia has been developing a touch interface for years now that they thought if Apple rushes through the iPhone development and become the first to put a touch interface product in the market, then it doesn't matter who came up with the idea first. And in business sense, that is absolutely true. But it all still boils down to the fact that the iPhone, other than its touch interface, is still a far inferior product than any of the "new" generation of smartphones from Nokia that has been around for a couple years.

Who knows? Maybe Steve Jobs will finally realize his mistakes (making his target sales goal and fattening up the company's bottom line with an inferior product hardly counts as a mistake, right?) and fix everything that is wrong with the current iPhone come 2008. But I'll wait till that day comes before I pass judgment. If it passes my standards and expectations of what a converging smartphone should be, then don't be surprised that I might simply ditch my Nokia N95 for the Apple iPhone 2.0.

Stay tuned for a future review of the second generation iPhone. =)

A Break, Finally...

2007-12-13T17:02:00.000-06:00

December brought a much-needed reprieve this time around. I was just a tad bit tired of traveling. Don’t get me wrong, Seattle was lots of fun, but the weekly commute was getting tiring. Instead of spending Sunday afternoons vegetating in front of the television watching the various NFL games, especially my beloved Bears, I was spending my Sunday afternoons cabbing it to the airport, and spending perhaps no more than 20 minutes standing near the entrance of an airport bar peering in at the television set.

I was originally supposed to fly to Seattle the first week of December, but something came up on the client's end that pretty much ended up with me being asked to cancel my travel plans. I worked from home instead. Then the second week of December is entirely dedicated to my first ever Mexican trip. Who can complain about going south for a week in the dead of the brutal Chicago winter?

Although the third week of December is not a vacation time for me, I won't be traveling still because I'll be "stuck" in Chicago attending a much needed training class. This is good, because the class will definitely increase my skill set and ante up my marketability. I certainly can't complain about that.

Then the final week of December will be spent on yet another vacation. You see, the problem is that at IBM, if I don't use up all my vacation time by the end of the year, I lose it all. Sure, it sounds like I'll be taking quite a lot of vacations in the month of December, but I definitely won't be able to use up all of my 15 days of vacation though. In fact, I'll be wasting about 12 hours of vacation, if I were to continue with my currently scheduled time-off.

But it's alright, though. Cos I certainly ain't complaining. =)

Why Don't Wii Play

2007-12-13T17:01:00.000-06:00

So yeah… I blame my friend Changren for something... One thing.

The last time I played a video game was back in middle school. The first and last video game system I have ever "owned" was the NES, the Nintendo Entertainment System. If there is ever an item representing old school, that would be it.

Later on, in 2001, my first roommate in Kansas City bought a Microsoft Xbox system. He had some kind of a fighting game, along with Halo. He offered me to play Halo with him, and I sucked. Not only did I get some kind of a thumb pain syndrome, but the sheer number of buttons on the Xbox was a little bit daunting. Intimidating would be a better word.

Anyway, after just playing Halo on Xbox for about a quarter of an hour, I simply gave up. Screw this! I threw the controller on the floor, and exclaimed, "This is ridiculous! How the hell do you keep track of eight buttons on a freaking controller?!? What happened to the two buttons, just A and B buttons?!?"

So yeah, playing Xbox for 15 minutes hardly count as real playing. So the NES is the one and only system I've ever played. Now, fast forward to Thanksgiving 2007. Instead of staying home in Chicago and doing the whole turkey dinner thing, I chose to fly out to Seattle on a last minute whim and go kick off the skiing season with my friend Changren and his girlfriend at Whistler, British Columbia.

The plan was to drive up to Canada on Thanksgiving Day, relax that evening, ski on Friday and Saturday, then spend Saturday evening and Sunday morning chilling in Vancouver.

It was during the time while we were at Vancouver where the whole incident happened.

I'm kind of technology savvy. So I have known for a while that the new generation of video game systems has already come out from both Microsoft (Xbox 360), Sony (Playstation 3) and Nintendo (Wii). Yet, I am not one of those people who play video games. When I heard in the news about how long lines were when each of the aforementioned gaming systems went on sale, I laughed heartily. "Those foolish idiots," I'd say. Or something similar.

But while I was in Vancouver, we all went to Changren's friend's place, who happened to have a Wii. To kill time, we all started playing a little bit of Wii Tennis. Although I have never played the game before, but have the training in real tennis, I thought it would not take me long to beat my friend, who is a self-proclaimed "Best Wii Tennis Player."

Needless to say, I kept on losing. But the bigger amazement was the fact that the Wii was easy to play with. I knew how to operate the controller effortlessly in less than 15 minutes, compared to the myriad of confusing buttons in the Xbox I encountered back in 2001!

Alas, despite the short learning curve of the Wii, my friend whopped my ass in Wii Tennis repeatedly. I even tried going for best out of five instead of three, but still lost. And my desire to beat my friend suddenly turned into a scary craving for the Wii. I have lived all of my adult life pretty satisfied without some mind-numbing entertainment device that is hooked up to a television. But as soon as I returned to Chicago, I have suddenly resolved to getting my hands on a Nintendo Wii.

Unfortunately, a quick look-see through many websites and local retailers revealed that the Wii is so hugely popular, despite being out for a year now, that it is sold out. Worse yet, many respectable retailers are practicing near-illegal sales tactics: Bundling the Wii with a bunch of stuff, most of which are not desirable like crappy games, and selling at a higher "bundle" price. It may be a good deal if you so happen to enjoy all the games they bundle, but most likely they're simply crappy games I would never buy.

Facing such a situation like a crack addict unable to find affordable crack, I grew anxious and twitchy. Before long, I became desperate. A browsing through CraigsList revealed that those wanting a quick profit have managed to buy tons of Nintendo Wii and offer them for sale at a significant markup. A $250 gaming system going for $400 up to $550?!? Holy crap! That was worse than daylight robbery! I simply didn't realize that there was such a huge demand for the Nintendo Wii.

Then on Saturday the first of December, Rosa and I happened upon a Best Buy in Evanston while on a targeted shopping spree. I walked around the store secretly hoping that perhaps the demand for Wii affected only Chicago, not a tiny little suburb. Unfortunately, I soon knew enough that the inevitable had happened. Out of stock.

I was ready to give up and leave the store, but Rosa convinced me that I should talk to a store employee and see if perhaps they had any Wiis in the back. I was quite skeptical, but decided to ask an employee nonetheless, only because there were a couple of them talking amongst themselves who were within a few feet.

Of course, the answer was obvious. They were out. As I said my thank you and began to leave, one of them piped up and said, "But just so you know, we are getting 18 Wiis tonight, and they will be on sale tomorrow morning."

WHAT?!?

After asking repeatedly if they were for real and in fact will be getting stock, I got really excited. The thing that sucks about the whole situation, though, is the fact that I would have to go wait in line at the butt crack of dawn. And with just 18 units for sale, chances were pretty good that there will be more than 10 people camping out at the store that evening.

One thing about me is for sure. I'm not a morning person, and even as a crack addict shaking violently for the next hit, I probably wouldn't be waiting in line in the freezing rain for a bag of crack. But I found a way out. You see, another friend of mine had wronged me severely that I thought he could quite possibly make it up to me as he had promised. He could go wait in line for me!

Surprisingly, my friend agreed. But having a sense of doubt that he would be there in line as I had asked, I decided to go there myself. Besides, the prospect of getting my hands on a Wii was so nerve wrecking that I tossed and turned sleeplessly throughout the night. Even though I myself was late in getting to the Best Buy at Evanston, I quickly noticed that my friend had just gotten there too. But he wasn't in the line. Instead, he was texting in the car, while his brother tagged along. He wanted to let me know that there were more than 18 people in the line, and he was giving up and heading home.

So I told him that I was going to take my chances, and that he could leave. No sense for him to be out there in the cold when I was already there. I thought that there was a good chance that A) the store would only sell one unit per customer, and B) not every single individual in line was there for a Wii. I was pretty sure that the big family of five was probably only buying one, but I wouldn't know for sure. So I took my chances.

About an hour before the store was to open for the day, an employee came out of the store with a stack of paper, telling us that he will be passing out certificates guaranteeing those who possess them will be walking out of the store that day with a Wii, and that they wouldn't need to wait in line.

I got really nervous. With just 18 units and almost 30 people in front of me, I thought I was screwed. As I watched the employee inch slowly down the line, I counted the certificates. I hoped against hope that the people in front of me were groups or families who only wanted one. Then I counted 18. Crap!

But strangely, he was still passing out certificates. But I wasn't sure how many he had. Then suddenly, he stood in front of me, and gave me one. Hooray! But after the employee passed out a certificate to a guy at the end of the line, I noticed that he still had some in his hand. I asked him, "Just exactly how many do you have?" "We have about thirty-something left."

I instantly thought, "Maybe I can score one for my sister too!" So I called Rosa, woke her up, and asked her to get to the Best Buy, since she lived pretty close. And my other friend was probably back in bed, so I didn't bother calling him. As time went by while waiting for Rosa to show up, people started to trickle in, hoping to score a Wii. They were mostly shocked that they got one, because they seemed pretty dismayed at the line already there, despite half the people went home with their certificates (which were good till noon that day). Some didn't even bother getting in line, and instead turned around and got in the car. Normally, I would have helped them out and told them that they had more certificates, but not knowing how many were left, I wanted to make sure I get one for my sister.

Finally, Rosa showed up. And surprisingly, she got a certificate. In my jubilation, she reminded me repeatedly that I owe her big time, which I acknowledged. And then, my other friend called. Apparently not wanting to let me down, instead of returning home, he went to the Best Buy on Fullerton to get in line. I told him not to worry about it, because I had gotten a certificate.

Before I knew it, he was back in Evanston with his brother, waiting in line. There were only three certificates left, and my friend and his brother got two. And a funny thing happened. As the employee stood there with the last and final certificate numbered 78, everybody could see there were people just rolling in to score a Wii. Two cars drove past the employee so they could park, and a third car with kids were there by the curb. They wanted the employee to hand the last certificate to them, but the employee told them that they had to go get it.

Excitement quickly built up, one of the guys who had finally parked the car started walking over. The people at the end of the line started screaming, "Hurry up! He's only got one left." To everybody's amazement, the kids didn't even get out of the car. Instead, they were debating and asking the employee to just go over and hand over the certificate. Then the guy who had just parked finally started running over, and snatched the certificate. The kids then asked, "Do you have any more?" They were given a rude awakening. Everybody in the line could not believe that mere laziness stood in the way of them getting a Wii. Unbelievable!

Long story short, the store finally opened, and I got a Wii. And it is fun and crazy addicting. I cannot believe that in nearly 30 years of my life, I have never waited in line for anything, until now. Well, I don't count waiting in line for the embassy to open so that I could get a visa to Malaysia, as for some strange reason the embassy only process a set number of visa requests a day. Weird.

Anyway, that is the story on how I accidentally got the Wii. By pure chance. And I didn't even see the Sunday ad for Best Buy either.

Sa-wiit!!! =)

Oopsy Daisies!

2007-11-29T23:38:00.000-06:00

Well, I thought my spurt of clumsiness at Whistler was short-lived, but unfortunately, that isn't the case.

Yesterday, one of my coworkers asked why I was wearing a temporary badge instead of my Boeing-issued badge at work while I was standing up. I looked at my badge while he pointed at it, and proceeded to explain that I had somehow lost my badge. Just then, I noticed that the badge holder had a cracked corner. Presumably from my fat ass bending over to sit down which caught the badge in between my two body parts.

Anyway, after I had explained myself, I went to fix the badge holder. Just like a hang nail you can't seem to ignore but to pull and yank at it, I similarly did so with the corner of my rather hard plastic badge holder. When I couldn't tear it off, I applied more pressure.

A few seconds later, the entire floor heard a loud ouch! following a rather distinctive snap. I had successfully broken off the corner piece, but totally failed to realize that the hard plastic would make for a rather sharp edge, thus slicing open a portion of my thumb.

At first I thought it was minor, just a little scratch. While my coworker sat there in his cubicle with a grin the size of the Grand Canyon and laughed his ass off, I jokingly accused him of being an insensitive ass for not worrying about my "injury." He challenged the severity of my scratch, so I went further with the joke and showed him my thumb.

He immediately stopped laughing after he took a look at my thumb. Noticing that it wasn't funny for him anymore, I decided that I should take a look at the thumb myself, and holy shit! I really did slice open my thumb!!!

Damn! When the hell is this clumsiness ever gonna stop?

Return of the Klutz

2007-11-25T23:50:00.001-06:00

In my formidable years of high school, I had the reputation of being a klutz. Involuntarily, of course. Whether I was in a basketball championship game as a varsity starter, or playing the lead role in school plays, or just plain walking through the halls of school, something would inevitably happen to me. It could be varied, like tripping over my own foot, walking into doors, or accidentally hitting myself in the face while trying to open some silly thing.

Well, as an adult, I have outgrown my clumsiness. In fact, the last time I had a klutzy moment was probably in 1999, when during Thanksgiving break while stuck in the residence halls of Southwest Missouri State University, I sliced my thumb open with a super-sharp kitchen knife while cutting the packaging of an assemble-it-yourself furniture from Wal-Mart. That little stint had me visiting the Emergency Department of a local hospital.

Now, fast forward to this week. On Tuesday, I decided on a whim to fly out to Seattle and join my friends on a ski trip to Whistler-Blackcomb. The plan was to fly out on Wednesday and stay in Seattle that evening, then drive up to Whistler on Thursday, and ski Friday and Saturday before spending Saturday night and Sunday in Vancouver.

Well... As we were loading up my friend's car on the crisp, Thursday morning, I somehow jammed my toe on the post of the fence lining his front "yard." Boy, did it hurt like hell. So much so that I screamed bloody murder.

Then the next day (Friday), after a full day of skiing on Whistler mountain, we returned to the hotel room to chillax. While walking around in the living room, I somehow walked into the armoire holding the television. The corner of it jabbed so deep into my arm that I let out a rather loud yelp.

On the Saturday morning of our final day of skiing at Whistler, we headed down to the lobby to get our daily free breakfast consisting of "scrambled" eggs made out of instant, powdered eggs, children coughed-on cereal, and toasts touched by other guests who obviously thought the thongs were merely for display. Before we even got to the elevators on our floor, I somehow did not pay attention to where I was going and heard a big whack and my lights went out momentarily. Within seconds, I found myself staring at the ceiling, head throbbing in multiple pulses of pain, and my hand clenching onto my balls on the floor.

All I heard was, "What the..." followed by the uncontrolled laughter of my friend and his girlfriend. I had no idea what had happened, but my initial thought was maybe my friend played a cruel trick on me. But when I looked around to see what had happened, I realized that I had walked into a metal pole in the middle of a fire-controlling doorway. Apparently, I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking, and arranged myself a private meeting with said doorframe.

Ouch!

Then today, after lunch at Vancouver, we walked around downtown in the hopes of finding a route back to the parking garage which was separated by a closed off Santa Clause Parade route. While walking in the lower level of the side street next to the Royal Provincial Court's pavilion, I almost fell on my face when I didn't see a step in the courtyard. Apparently, unlike the United States, the Canadians don't bother with painting the edges of unexpected steps with bright yellow tape indicating a drop-off.

Just as I almost fell and screamed a wobbly whoa, my friend looked at me before quipping to his girlfriend, "You know, this guy is so clumsy that he has at least a major incident each day." And they giggled at my expense.

Now, while writing this in the car en route back to Seattle, I realized that indeed my old clumsy self has paid a visit in the last few days! It sucks, but at least it didn't result in serious injuries other than a big shiner on my forehead with a bump the size of Mount Rainier. As I slowly rub my bump soothingly, I slowly mutter to myself, "This shit's gotta stop soon."

Mobile Update: Thanks Edition

2007-11-22T16:00:00.001-06:00

So yeah.. It's been awhile since I last wrote anything, but yours truly has been super busy lately. I'm currently going through some pretty big ripples in my life, which I'll reveal in due time.

Anyway, I just wanted to put out a little update while on the road. Don't worry, my friend is driving. I'd never imaging texting out an email while driving myself. Right now, I'm about 45 miles away from Vancouver, British Columbia.

On Tuesday evening I made an impromptu decision to tag along with my friend and his girlfriend to Whistler to do some Thanksgiving skiing/snowboarding. How sweet is that? Well, the only bitter part is that the dollar on this side of the border is worth less than the mighty Canadian dollar. Oh well!

Well, happy Thanksgiving to you all! I guess I better go through my bags and make sure I have my passport with me. I think my friends might be pissed if I left it in Chicago. :)

Hello, A-List!

2007-11-12T02:12:00.000-06:00

On Friday morning, I had the pleasure of having to wake up at 04:30 so that I could enjoy hitting the snooze button just five times, and hang up on four different phone calls that I had previously set up with wake-up call service. I eventually did rise by 05:07, just in time to brush my teeth, throw my clothes on, and leave for the airport. Although I thought I was quite speedy throughout the whole thing, it was 05:18 when I left my hotel room, which only afforded me 12 minutes to get to the airport.

Ever the lead foot that I am, I was instantly disappointed no more with the new Saturn Outlook SUV Hertz had triple upgraded me to, what with its 3.6 litre, 270 horse power V6 engine and 20 inch wheels. I drove like a mad bat out of hell, and surprisingly made it to Seattle Tacoma International Airport by 05:32! I have to admit, as a person not easily impressed, that was pretty freaking impressive, considering the mere 14 minutes covered the elevator ride, navigation out of the garage, snaking through the famed one way streets of downtown Seattle before getting onto I-5, and a cool 14.1 miles of highway on I-5. Nothing beats knowing you had just commandeered a half ton of steel, rubber and glass at Superman speeds!

I actually was disappointed with my rental car all week, despite enjoying all the creature comforts like leather seating, sunroof, heated seats and automatic climate control. You see, the Hilton Seattle parking garage isn't exactly accommodating for vehicles that size. Navigating around the garage each time I leave or return was a hair raising experience. Am I going to sideswipe that wall on the left as I turn the corner? Is my front going to bump the right wall as I turn the corner to avoid the wall on the left? With each wall and corner nicely decorated with rainbow colors of streaks and several poles bent over, I could tell that this garage had claimed many innocent drivers who didn't know how to drive, or at least unfamiliar with the dimensions of their vehicles. I was glad that after nine weeks of staying here in Seattle, I have not once made a love tap, or ass rape for that matter, between my different rental vehicles and the garage.

Anyway, on Thursday morning while I was on my porcelain throne, I read in the USA Today about how Southwest Airlines will begin its new boarding procedure, to which I had known for months but neglected to tie a virtual ribbon around my finger. And instantly, I realized that I had to check into my Thursday morning flight, because it was 08:00 already, and my flight was going to be at 06:35 the next morning. I wasn't in a hurry, because my experience has taught me that if I check into my flight within six hours of when they allow you to check in, chances were pretty good that I'd get the A group.

Boy, was I wrong.

Instead of the usual A, B and C groups which people can line up as early as they want so as to be the first in that boarding group to get a good seat, Southwest Airlines now assign numbers on top of the group based on when you checked in online. First come first serve. So if my flight leaves at 06:35 on Friday, everybody on that flight could begin checking in online at 06:35 on Thursday. The first 60 people to check in gets the A group, with each subsequent 60 in the B and C groups respectively. And the numerical assignment also indicates their place within their respective group, thus leaving ass holes like me out in the cold.

Because as a business traveler, I sometimes book my flight at the last minute, but I always made sure I checked in promptly 24 hours ahead so that I got into the A group, despite getting a 59, for example. (The numbers had always been printed on the boarding pass for years, but not for the same purpose as now.) Then I made damn sure that I get to the gate early enough so that I could be the first person in the A group by standing in line all alone. Of course, this would cause a snowball effect, because suddenly, even though the flight may not leave for yet another 75 minutes, everybody who had been comfortable sitting in their seats would suddenly get up and stand in line behind me. With seats at the gate abandoned, people were willing to stand in line for over an hour just to get good seats. I guess this is why Southwest Airlines decided to form the new boarding procedure. And now I'm the victim, if I got number 59 in the A group.

Apparently, the flight back to Chicago was filled with fellow loyal Southwest Airlines patrons, because when I checked in online after I cleaned myself up good from the cake making experience that Thursday morning, I got the B group. Yeah! I didn't even make it into the second half of the A group. And it had only been an hour and a half since the check in window of time opened! Group B?!? Luckily, I got position 5. At least I got to be the fifth person to board in the B group. But still, I was displeased!

Well, when I got to work that Thursday, I checked my email, which I had neglected on Wednesday evening because I was busy having a good time at dinner with my friends. I had received an email on Wednesday from Southwest Airlines, telling me that in addition to the new boarding procedures, they will also begin this thing called the A-List, and that I was close to getting in, but no banana. Well, they didn't exactly use banana, but they also wrote to say that once I became eligible, they will notify me first thing in their order of business. Okay, they didn't exact say that either, but something to that effect.

The A-List is another privilege of prestige, on top of the Companion Pass privilege, which I've had for years. Fly with Southwest Airlines enough to earn at least 100 points before a full cycle of rolling 365 days, and you get the Companion Pass for a year. Anyone I designate as my companion can fly with me for free. Anyway, the A-List privilege entailed that if a passenger had made 32 one way flights with Southwest Airlines in a rolling 365 days, then he or she would be eligible for the A-List, whereby Southwest Airlines will check you into your flight for you and get you into at least the A group, so you don't have to wake up at 06:35 24 hours before your flight to check in like for me.

Man, when I got that email saying I didn't make it, I tore up my copy of the USA Today in half, and stormed out like a little girl. Okay, I really didn't, but if I was a little girl who surprisingly enjoys reading newspapers first thing in the morning, then I would totally have done that. =) Sigh...

Of course, just as luck would have it, when I checked my email on Friday, guess what?!? I got another email from Southwest Airlines!

Hello, A-List!

Now it's Sunday evening, and I'm on the plane flying to Seattle. And I'm happy to report that I did not check into my 20:00 flight 24 hours ahead on Saturday, and I still got into the A group! Sadly though, is the fact that I was given position 49. That's pretty much the bottom of the A group, which still doesn't really earn me first dibs on the open seating policy. Or second, or third through the fifteenth dib. But for now, I think this will do. I feel like a rock star for being inducted into the A-List. Sa-weet!

Now, if only they would roll out the red carpet at the gate for the A-Listed passengers.

Grumpier Old Sore Man

2007-11-06T18:08:00.001-06:00

Alternate Title: Hidden Nail, Crouching Toe

Alternate Alternate Title: This Ain't No Seattle Grace

Nothing beats fate taking another quick, hard swing at a downed guy. It's almost as if fate is taunting me while I roll on the ground crutching onto my sack of balls in pain before kicking me yet again in the nuts. Yeah, I love this feeling...

As if having to adjust to the new Southwest flight that departs on Sundays at 20:00 after Southwest Airlines discontinued the 15:50 direct flight wasn't enough, I had to accidentally leave my Shure noise-blocking earphones at home, thus making the four and a half hour plane ride for a miserable hell. Well, at least I spent part of the flight writing my previous blog.

And to sweeten the wholesome experience, I ended up visiting the Emergency Room on Monday instead of going to work.

Yippie yay. Give me a cheer...

As I rose out of bed in all of my naked morning glory, I hit the Snooze button for the final time and stumbled around the room. As usual when I stay at the Downtown Seattle Hilton every week, I'd look out the peephole of my door, hold my breath and listen hard for signs of any other hotel guests walking by my room. After all, the last thing I want to do is to accidentally flash some poor fellow patron with a good view of my other moustache.

When I thought things were in the clear, I cracked open the door a good foot apart, took a step forward, and bent down to get my fresh, crisp copy of the USA Today paper while my banana and plums hung out there as if they were ripen to pluck off the bushes. But yesterday, when I took that fateful first step after revealing my naked self to the hallway, I felt a sharp pain. I let out a brief OUCH! before hurriedly grabbing the newspaper and closing the door shut.

What the fuck was that?

I must've stepped on an exposed nail of a carpet tack strip! I bent down and felt the carpet with the palms of my hand, and felt nothing in the area of an inch from the edge of the door edge. Thinking it was just nothing and that I had an overly sensitive feet bottom that morning, I proceeded to the bathroom while I take my leisurely dump while reading my fresh newspaper.

Interesting... The United States is in a rock and hard place with Pervez Musharraf's recent abandonment of the Pakistani Constitution. What will Dubya do?

After I had read a couple more articles and wiped my ass in satisfaction, I prepared to get up from my porcelain throne before I suddenly noticed something in the bathroom rug. A red dot.

What the...?

I moved my right foot away and there was yet another red dot on the rug! Before long, a huge, giant light bulb came on in my head! I flipped my right foot over, and I found my big toe with broken skin and blood oozing out of the little hole.

Great! My suckiness apparently will be continuing into the new day...

While I was still naked (after I had wiped my ass and flushed the toilet), I began to do the whole CSI thing and investigate what had happened. Surely enough, I found a nail sticking out about a quarter of a centimeter from the carpet! Holy moly!!!

Instinctively, my recessive Asian genes became dominant suddenly and I decided to start taking pictures of whatever evidence I could gather. If it wasn't for Erin and her experience this past year with a hotel where it disclaimed any responsibility for the injury she had gotten during her stay, I would not have thought about being a savvy crime scene investigator. I needed all the ammo I could gather to force the hotel into:
A) paying for all my medical bill without making a claim against my health insurance,
B) comp'ing one night of my hotel stay if the whole ordeal was going to take the entire day, thus missing a day of work (which did happen), and
C) providing me with Hilton Hhonors points to compensate for my inconvenience.

As if luck would have it, fate picked the perfect day for me to get injured by my hotel room. All the managers were not available, as there was a board meeting which required all managers to attend. I asked to speak with the secretary of the General Manager, hoping that she could interrupt the meeting to inform some manager that one of their valued guests was injured and needed medical attention. Pronto. But no luck.

Grrr...

I tried to remember from my high school biology class about tetanus, and I knew I had to get a shot of some kind, and that there was a period of time I would be okay before getting lockjaw. In my mind, I thought it was 12 hours, so I told her that I would wait till the meeting concludes. The last thing I want to do is take the General Manager's business card to the hospital and inform the triage person that my bill will be covered by the hotel, and that the business card would be used as, uhm, collateral. Yeah right!

Soon enough, Joe, a controller in accounting decided to take matters into his own hands. He gave me $20 for the cab fare to and from the Swedish Medical Hospital, and gave me his business card so that the triage person could call him directly and obtain the necessary financial and insurance information from the hotel. So off I went.

Of course, after waiting almost an hour in the lobby, I finally got admitted. I couldn't believe it took an hour on a slow day. I'd hate to see how long it will take for me to even tell someone my name, address and date of birth during a busy night! And of course, after getting admitted, I waited and waited for almost another hour before being escorted to a room in the Emergency Department. And the kicker? I waited yet another hour in my room before a nurse even came to check my vitals before an attending could see me.

By the time all was said and done, it was almost 16:00 by the time I returned to my hotel. It was simply wishful thinking that it might be a quick ordeal and still allow me to go to work. So basically, I lugged around my laptop bag in the cab, then the hospital, for nothing! And I returned to my hotel room with a sore arm, because the doctor said that since it was a nail that I stepped on and the last time I had a tetanus shot was eight years ago, it was probably best to give me another shot.

Lucky for me, tetanus shots are one of the most painful vaccines. No, not painful as in when the needle gets inserted into your muscle, but the lingering effects for days afterwards. And I have never been afraid of needles anyway, as I was one of those odd kids who enjoys watching the needle go in.

When I got back, I talked to Joe and reiterated my list of demands. I should have added this to the list:
D) Buy me lunch.
After all, I had spent all day in the freaking hospital without food.

Well, it is now Tuesday, and I can say for sure that the CDC wasn't kidding in their pamphlet when they indicated that tetanus shots were one of the most painful vaccinations. My left are is sore and painful, as if I had been tackled high and hard on the field.

Now, I'm just a grumpy old sore man.

Below are pictures and (yes, I wrote and) videos!!! Enjoy!!!

Grumpy Old Man

2007-11-04T23:59:00.000-06:00

Wow, despite my 30th birthday still being 76 days out, it just seems like tomorrow will be my 40th birthday. Things simply aren't the same anymore. I remember a time when I could live on just three hours of sleep every single weekday for months, and still have the energy to practice basketball for the varsity team, being an officer in the student council, and run the yearbook committee as a co-editor. And on top of all that, spend the weekend partying hard. Or at least, living life to the hardest.

Look at me now. The past week was clearly an indication of my age catching up to me. Or all the years of sleep deficit, whichever came first. Last weekend, all I did was spend the night out drinking on Friday as far as anything exciting goes. Then on Wednesday, I went out to a small dive bar with people I had just met in Seattle for Halloween till three in the morning. So far, this would have been considered rather tame by the standards of my youth.

Then on Friday, I went out to dinner with my friends from Colorado and Rosa. A fine dinner, with barely any alcoholic drinks. Then Saturday brought Maria and Matt's wedding, which I had a total blast. I didn't get too terribly drunk, as I was still functional by the end of the evening, but oh my God! I felt like a freaking rock star finally deciding to stop drinking and snorting coke with random hot groupies after 30 straight nights of rocking out my life!

I am spent!!!

Here I am, sitting on the plane to Seattle, pondering what had happened. For some odd reason, I thought on Saturday night that after the wedding I would totally be able to go out and play football on Sunday morning. But came this morning, which brought me pain. Not the kind of pain like I had been drinking a lot, but pain as in wariness and wretchedness.

Obviously my new weekly commute to Seattle has started to take its toll on me. I remember years ago, I could not wait to fly out to Seattle every week when I had a project there. It was worse then, because I had to fly to Minneapolis St-Paul, layover for a while, before flying on to Seattle. And I thought that was cool and exciting. And I never had gotten tired of it.

How did I manage to juggle with all that weekly traveling and still maintain a decent life every weekend then? Now, I feel like a grumpy old man, dreading the four and a half hour long direct flight to Seattle every Sunday. Sure, it is much better now than when I lived in Kansas City, but somehow, it just doesn't feel the same. The allure of all this travel no longer excites me.

Of course, this could all very well be the fact that I had been super busy with myself every weekend. I barely had time to do my own laundry, and my place is in dire need of housekeeping. If it wasn't the marathon weekend, then it was the trip to San Francisco. If it wasn't Matt's bachelor party, it was Maria and Matt's wedding. Every single weekend kept me busy.

So busy to the point that I can't even find the time to download my pictures, sort them, and email them out. My current backlog of promises? Sending out the pictures from the Nike Women's Half Marathon in San Francisco. The pictures from Matt's bachelor party. The picture of a hot girl I had randomly met last weekend. The pictures from Halloween night. And now, the hundreds of pictures Rosa and I took at Maria and Matt's wedding. And on top of all that, deal with my stolen/lost phone with the police and insurance companies, and find the time to work on my place as if I had just moved in. You should know, as I have sort of neglected my blog for days now!

This is by no means a complaint, though. The wedding was nice and wonderful, and I had a great time. The Chicago Marathon and Nike Women's Half Marathon races were great and life-altering. But I seriously need some personal downtime. Well, preferably a pause in the life remote control. Unfortunately, time travel, much less time freeze, has yet to be invented.

I need some John time. Seriously.

Because, I just hate feeling like a grumpy old man. =)

A Cheerleading Injury You Rarely See...

2007-10-31T11:35:00.000-05:00

Alternate Title: How To Bang A Cheerleader!

How Dumb Do You Think I Am?!?

2007-10-29T17:23:00.001-05:00

Ever since coming to Seattle every week for business, I have come to enjoy local food products. For example, I now love the Yami yogurts that are served at my hotel, produced here in the state of Washington. It is creamier and tastier than any yogurt brand you find in grocery stores all over the country.

And then there is the apple juice made by TreeTop, another fine company here in the state of Washington. The juice is pretty tasty, I must say. Better than any Welch's apple juice, that's for sure. But one thing about the TreeTop apple juice certainly leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Not literally.

Squarely centered on the bottom of the front label of the TreeTop apple juice bottle is this disclaimer: "Not a low calorie food."

Seriously?

I mean, if any of you have paid any kind of attention to basic high school classes, be it nutrition, physical education or biology, you will easily remember that fresh fruits are mostly sugar, water and fiber. So it should not come as a surprise that pure apple juice should also contain mostly sugar and water.

As if that wasn't enough, TreeTop seems to be telling me that I'm an idiot. Sure, not many people will remember much about fruits, much less learn about it because some Americans simply drop out of high school before graduation, but on the back side of the bottle is a prominent thing called the nutrition information panel. That label has been required by law in the United States under the 1990 Nutrition Labeling and Education Act.

And right there in the second line item is this: Calories 140.

So, uhm, what is the purpose of the rather large warning statement telling me that the apple juice I was about to consume is not a low calorie food when the nutrition information panel already told me so? It's like labeling a giant mountain rock with "Not a lightweight object." Or having a huge 23-step diagram showing me how to buckle a seat belt. Unless, of course, you were born before 1956 and have never ever ridden in a modern automotive vehicle since then.

Sure, you can argue that it is entirely possible that the warning statement is there because people can't read nutrition information labels. But seriously, such labels have been around for the better part of nearly two decades now that you'd think the general population would know how to decipher at least the amount of calories the juice contains. And if they can't read something that simple, they sure as hell can't read the warning statement in the front, thus negating the point in even printing such a warning statement. And if they can't read anything at all, how would they know that they had even just purchased an apple juice?

Do the executives at TreeTop really think we're all that dumb? They might as well go further by printing right below that warning statement: "May cause you to urinate when consumed."

Sangria Flavored Skewered Shrimp Wrapped in Bacon

2007-10-28T22:49:00.000-05:00

Alternate Alternate Title: I'll Never Drink Again

BLOG MA: This blog entry has been rated BLOG MA. It is intended for mature audiences. Or anyone who can withstand a little graphic discussion.

A sudden blurred image came to view. It was bright. A blink. Still bright, but clearer. The Royal White-painted ceiling lit up by the strong rays of sunshine was all I could see on this bright Saturday morning. Then suddenly, I gasped for air, and shot straight up into a sitting position. I was in pain. I felt like someone had knocked me unconscious.

As I slowly stirred out of my sleep on my couch, I tried to piece back together what had happened. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was 10:50. I tried to return to sleep, but it was useless as the sun wouldn't have any of it. Or it could be very well possible that I was at one time a cheapskate who bought blinds that aren't good at blocking out light.

On Friday evening, I took the subway after work and headed over to my friend Matt's place. The plan? A bunch of guys were going out to celebrate his last weekend as a bachelor. Because I didn't have enough time to go home and drop off my laptops, Matt said I could first meet up at his place so I can drop off my bags before heading out to the first resto-bar. (That's Toronto-speak for any bar that also serves food.) My plan was simple: Hang out with the guys for a little bit like a couple hours tops, celebrate, then head home at a decent time. I wanted to return to playing football with this really good group I had met before beginning my marathon training in the summer. Somehow, judging by the situation I found myself in this Saturday morning, I realized that my game plan went by the wayside. Like way the f**k in Egypt kind of side.

You see, I kind of had a really shitty two weeks. Don't get me wrong, as my weekend in San Francisco was mostly fun peppered in, but without going into details, fate seemed to designate for the most part of the last couple weeks as hell week for me. Instead of moping around in my own sorrow, I decided that the wife of Dog the Bounty Hunter may be right when she said, "When going through hell, don't stop." So I decided to ride on through hell. With the aid of liquid poison which we shall name Miller Lite. And to-kill-ya. And whatever the hell shots the guys bought throughout the night.

Anyway, it all started simply enough. Spanish tapas dinner and drinks at Moe's Cantina. Along with their fabled sangria. The food was delicious. The drinks even sweeter and palatable. It became quite obvious that the bacon-wrapped shrimp skewers were the group favorite, because we ordered six skewers of it, two at a time. Not so favorite? Vegetable skewer. Apparently we were all members of PETA; people eating tasty animals.

As the night was still young, the bar wasn't exactly hopping, but with the eight of us, we managed to be the loudest bunch drawing attention from the many other patrons. Of course, the fact that Matt was wearing all kinds of colorful beads helped a lot. But not as much as the good looking fellas that we were. =)

As we bar-hopped around Wrigleyville, things started becoming a blur. Instead of pacing myself slowly, I managed to consume two drinks at each bar, along with shots people bought. And at each bar we stopped at, we had a rule to this game. We had to, uhm, smoke a fag (that's British talk for a cigarette) before hitting the next bar.

Well, all I can say is that after several bar-hopping and smoking fags, the group of eight slowly dwindled down to four. In the end, I found myself hitting on girls waiting in line at the famed Taco Hell (which always happens every time I go to that Taco Hell across from Wrigley Field), while Matt and the crew enjoyed (albeit briefly) my drunken stupor. I don't remember how we got there, or which bar we had left prior to getting there, but here we were, at Taco Hell. As usual, I ordered a Southwestern Bowl. Not quite sure which kind, or how I paid for it, but after all the flirting at the line, I managed to take pictures with seven hot girls. (I later had to delete pictures of four of them, because I later discovered that they weren't exactly hot when I was sober, if you know what I mean. Thankfully, the other three turned out exceptional, with one standing out like a girl in bikini in a corporate boardroom full of suited chicks.)

After remembering that much, I decided to get off the couch. I had to pee real bad. But I also had a mouth of parched leather, so I took a detour into my kitchen. I downed a big bottle of Strawberry-Kiwi flavored Propel as if I had just been rescued from the Sahara Desert. Feeling partially satiated, I walked through the hallway towards the bathroom. What laid before me was trail of artifacts. The hallway starting from the front door turning right into the bathroom was first my belt. Then my jeans. Then my underwear. What?!? I quickly looked down at my crotch to make sure I had not been sleeping commando. Strangely enough, I had on a pair. Where I had gotten it, I wasn't sure.

Right through the doorway into my bathroom, my work bag was sitting down there, next to my Chicago Marathon jacket that I had worn on Friday evening. This trail from belt to jacket led from the front door to the edge of the toilet. Then I suddenly remembered partially what happened when I got home. I had this nagging urge to take a huge dump, and couldn't wait to get out of the cab! I must have started undressing before even dropping off my heavy bag while rushing into the bathroom. I chuckled at this sudden remembrance.

When I lifted the toilet seat, the sight before my very eyes made me gag before muttering, "What the... NAA...ASTY!!!" Then I looked around the bathroom floor, and the tornadic arrangement on the floor jogged my memory even more. I don't remember the cab ride from Matt's place to my home, but I remembered falling down the final flight of stairs at Matt's apartment complex and thinking subsequently that my ankles better not be jacked up because I was going to run a few miles of the Chicago Ultra Marathon later that day, and hit the Trick or Treat Trot 5K on Sunday. I certainly don't remember flagging down a cab, but I do remember paying the cabbie when I got home.

Because I had not taken a dump all Friday long, and with having had a huge lunch and a relatively large and festive dinner with the guys, I couldn't hold it in much longer. But as I sat there on the toilet and squeezed my abdominal muscles, I remembered feeling relieved. I also remembered that after I wiped myself, I suddenly had to puke because I had squeezed my tummy too hard. Being bent over on the toilet certainly didn't help, and I felt the food coming upwards. It came out so fast and sudden like Mount Santorini when it devastated the Minoan civilization. It was so sudden that I had to jump off the toilet (thank God I wiped!) and stick my head in the toilet! I thought my response was lightning quick, but apparently not, because on Saturday morning, I could see that I had missed my aim on one of my hurls.

To make matters worse, I definitely did not remember the toilet clogging up after I had done puking when I flushed. So here I was, on Saturday morning, with my head hurting in pain, I was staring at the nastiest thing I had ever done in my own home. A mix of fecal matter and pieces of shrimp, bacon and cilantro caked into the toilet bowl. Great! I don't have much time before I had to go run Elaine in on her final two miles of the Chicago Ultra Marathon, and I have to pee! As a germaphobe that I have always been, I couldn't possibly leave this mess alone. I had to clean it, as much as I didn't want to.

Thinking that maybe after all night of sitting there, my crap might have softened up enough for it to be flushable. I pulled on the flush lever, and hoped for the best. Unfortunately for me, all that nastiness filled up nearly to the brim. Luckily, nothing overflowed. Damn!!! Because I have never clogged up my toilet before, I never had the need to own a plunger. So I went down to the building engineer's office and borrowed his industrial plunger.

As I sat there and plunged away as carefully as I could without splashing all that e-coli tainted water, I got tired pretty soon. After all, I had to pee, and I was hungry too. What I needed to do right then was to eat a hot, soupy noodle meal and pee, not wasting my time plunging. But I just had to clean this mess before starting out the day, because I was sure that once my sinuses had cleared out after the Zyrtec pills were popped, I would really know how bad my condo smelled. Bathroom cleaning became priority number one.

After plunging for almost half an hour to no avail, I began panicking. I washed my hands, got onto the computer, and looked up Elaine's time at the 2006 Chicago Marathon to see what her long distance pace was, so that I could calculate and see how long it would take her to complete the 31 mile ultra marathon. A quick calculation revealed that I had to be on the course by 14:00 or else she would have finished since the race started 08:30. I looked at the clock, and it was already 12:45. Not good.

Then I suddenly realized that I had never used a plunger before, so it could be possible that I was doing it all wrong, considering that I had been plunging away for over half an hour. I Googled for "toilet plunging tips", and was pleased at the few professional advice available on the interwebs. I was even more pleased that all recommended several do-it-yourself procedures before calling in the professional, as I thought I was nearing that point.

After watching diagrams of basic toilet designs, and how plungers work, I suddenly realize that the word plunger was very misleading. I thought as a device to plunge things, you're forcing the culprit of the clog to be forced through the toilet by the air pocket trapped in the cup of the plunger. It turned out that the cup at the end of the plunger was designed to create suction, because you're pulling the questionable debris back into the toilet bowl so that said debris (or shit, as I call it) can begin flowing in pieces instead of one large clump. Aha! That explains why a bowlful of shit along with puke certainly was the right recipe to create a clog! I also learned that the number top culprits for clogged toilets are usually: 1) toys or missing makeup, 2) humongous hard turd, and 3) cat litter. Really, people dump cat litter in the toilet?!?

But before I could begin practicing my newly acquired housekeeping skills, I had to do something else as explained by the online advisors. Find a plastic cup and a bucket, and empty out the toilet bowl to just an inch or so above the normal resting waterline after a normal flush. And thankfully, the whole procedure was accompanied by a video instruction! As much as I hated this, I had to do what it said. I know this is kind of gross, but I decided to mention the whole process in my blog because I found this newly discovered skill extremely helpful. And it will be helpful to you too, because like me, you will one day be a homeowner.

As I began plunging away with a bucket full of shit, puke, and food particles beside me, I started to get disheartened. Because after fifteen minutes of plunging, I got nowhere. And it was already 13:00. And why was I holding onto the bucket of shit water? Apparently, modern house plumbing designs have separated the line from the toilet from the line in our sink. The online instructor mentioned that dumping fecal matter down the kitchen sink will make it all the harder to process into drinking water. And since I'm a big fan of tap water, the bucket of shit remained next to me. Oh, how I wished I lived next to a farm...

By now, I had gotten desperate. I looked online again to see what other professional tips could help. And this final one held the magic key. You're supposed to plunge the toilet with fast up and down strokes, with no more than three seconds apart between each stroke. Damn! Is this guy for real? Toilet plunging somehow managed to turn from a simple household activity into a procedure as complicated as giving CPR! I was just glad that mouth-to-toilet resuscitation was not a prerequisite. And after another 15 minutes of plunging to no avail, I decided that I should feed my starving tummy and find a way to pee.

While the Korean noodles cooked, I couldn't hold my pee in any longer. A light bulb suddenly came on. I looked at the empty half liter Propel bottle sitting on the kitchen counter, and thought that maybe I could just pee into the bottle. After all, I doubt my bladder could hold onto half a liter of pee. So there I went. Now, if you were wondering why I didn't just pee in the sink, I actually had thought of that. My rationale went like this: I didn't want pee splashing anywhere onto my kitchen counter. End of story with that one. But as the waterline (really, peeline to be exact) neared the top of the bottle, I began to panic. Shit! What if I can't stop midstream?!? With about two inches to go, I squeezed as hard as I possibly could. My first pee of the day after a long night of sleep; could I possibly do this?

Even to my own amazement, I stopped just in time!!! Hallelujah!!! With just a quarter of an inch to go! After carefully pouring it down the sink right into the hole so as to have zero splash, I peed the rest into the now empty warm bottle. Holy shit! I filled half the bottle before completely emptying out my bladder. Can human bladders really hold 750 ml of pee?!? And if you're wondering about pee being recycled back into drinking water, take heart that pee is sterile. Mine just might taste like Miller Lite or tequila.

Glad as I was that I solved my pee problem, I washed my hands and sat down to eat my Korean noodles. Then suddenly, I began to whimper. Like a stupid girl who suddenly got really emotional over nothing, like eating a bowl of spicy noodles. My thoughts? Here I am, a young man of great talent, who has always been nice and good to his friends, who was successful with a flowering career, and suddenly fate gave him two weeks of pure hell! And I was reduced to scooping shit and puke out of a toilet into my nice bucket reserved only for mopping my floors, and peeing into a bottle like an uncivilized caveman with absolutely no manners. And worst of all? In my drunken stupor, my Nokia N95 was stolen the night before by the time when I returned home.

As if fate didn't have enough of this mockery, I was also given the pleasure to be stuck with the whole toilet plunging business. Such a simple household chore, and a man with a degree who works for a great technology company such as IBM couldn't freaking figure out how to plunge his own shit through the toilet! Then I cried just a little harder, like a poor helpless girl who suddenly realized later the consequence of sugarless nights after the initial outcry when discovering somebody had stolen her bucket of candy the morning after Halloween.

Yeah, it was that depressing. As I wiped away my tears and began forcing food down my throat as I no longer was hungry while feeling all sad for myself, I then decided that it would be best that I just stay home and not go run Elaine in on her final two miles of the Ultra Marathon. But after a couple bites of the Korean noodle, I suddenly realized that I might just had hit rock bottom. I know, so cliché, isn't it? And things suddenly got clearer, after I thought things through with my hungover mind and put things in perspective. Elaine's grandfather's health had suddenly deteriorated at a greater pace, and she had been a mess since Friday. She couldn't finish the Chicago Marathon, especially when she was running for charity for her grandparents who suffered Alzheimer's. This Ultra Marathon was to make up for the botched Chicago Marathon. The sudden news that her grandfather may pass any minute soon really made me realize that what I was going through was pee-nuts compared to what Elaine was going through.

So I wiped up my tears, and finished my Korean noodles as fast I could. I began laughing like a 14 year old girl, because I realized that however horrible my life had briefly been, and however terrible my current situation was, it was all funny in retrospect. I won't laugh now, but I sure will next week. And of course, this could be very blog-worthy. For me, at least.

After putting my empty bowl in the sink, I attacked the clogged toilet again, but with determination this time. Come hell or high water, I was going to be out there cheering and running Elaine in. I sat on the brim of the bathtub, next to the bucket full of liquefied shit, and plunged away. Twenty minutes went by, but I pressed on. Then suddenly, the little bit of mess started going down. I lifted the plunger to make sure. And it did, slowly. I waited, and then cautiously flushed. The water swirled around and rose up. But it continued to swirl. Then voila! The whole thing swirled down the toilet!

Hallelujah!!! Allah be praised! Baby lord Jesus be praised! My combo number 9 (shit and puke) went down! Then I poured the bucket of shit down the toilet, and flushed. It all went down too!!! Then I began cleaning my toilet and bucket. I looked at the clock, and it was 13:50. I guess I had no time to shower, and no point to do so when I'd be sweating again when I run Elaine in later on.

I made it down to the race course on time, and she was very appreciative of my support. I just didn't tell her the hellish morning that I had to go through that morning. At that point in time, I reprioritized things. The Halloween Pub Crawl on Saturday afternoon will have to wait, or skipped altogether, even though I had spent $50 working on my dorky costume. I had to go to the Nokia store and see if they had a registry for stolen phones just in case if the new owner decided to take it in for warranty support. And I also had to go to the AT&T store to get a new SIM card so I could at least reconnect to the outside world with my older Nokia N91 phone. I also wanted to see if they have a registry of stolen devices, and if they can block stolen devices from connecting to the network. The guy said it was possible, but that I had to call Customer Service for that and provide the IMEI code. This looked promising.

While I sat there plunging my toilet, a thought did occur to me, because in the middle of it all, I felt a bump in my forehead and tried to figure out why I had a particular sharp pain over my left eyebrow. I suddenly remembered why I missed my first hurl at the toilet after I shat. With my Chicago Marathon jacket on the bathroom floor, the fleece on tiled floor just made for a slippery condition. And when I jumped up, I had slipped and fell. And on the way down, I slammed my forehead on the corner of my bathroom sink. I guess in retrospect, I should be thankful that that was all it was. I mean, I could've cracked a tooth on the toilet bowl! Or worse, stuck my whole arm into a toilet full of shit as I came crashing down. And then I thought, oh my goodness, what if I had the cell phone in my jacket all along, but because I was tearing off my clothes so fast that it dropped out of my coat pocket and fell into the toilet, thus the clog?!?

Now that would be an interesting turn of events if that had been the case. But in the meantime, I've left voicemails with the Yellow Cab of Chicago after reviewing the security video of my condo to determine that it was in fact a Chicago Yellow Cab. But no cab number, unfortunately, due to poor video quality... But that's a good start. And I'll been monitoring eBay for any new posting of a used Nokia N95 without the charger within 100 miles of Chicago starting October 27.

Worse Than Grade School Children?!?

2007-10-25T15:00:00.001-05:00

I'm working from Chicago today, instead of Seattle, mostly because I was on vacation in San Francisco till Tuesday. So I came to the downtown IBM office.

About 15 minutes ago, I got really annoyed when some people accidentally opened an exit door indicating that the alarm will sound when opened. There were lots of giggling, and I overheard someone say, "I guess it really does work!" I was furious, while glancing at their direction, thinking about how inconsiderate they were. Did they think the "Alarm will sound when opened" sign was there for mere decoration?!?

Of course, a few minutes after that, flashes lit up all over the floor like dancing lightning captured in a room. An announcement came over the public broadcast announcers stating: "Attention! This is an evacuation drill for the seventh floor. Please exit to the sixth floor through the nearest stairwell."

Damn it!!!

Luck would have it that today happened to be a surprise evacuation drill day. Considering that I only come to the office maybe once a month, if at all. I have always thought that drills were typically announced ahead of time, since I have often received emails in the past warning me when what kind of drills will occur.

Apparently, not this time. I couldn't even exit through the stairwell right behind me where the alarm had previously been tripped. I had to go all the way to the other side of the building. I was just thinking how lucky I was that the client conference call I was on had just ended before all this crap began.

What really shocked me the most was how poorly we performed, considering that it wasn't even a full house on my floor. At the end of the drill, a security guy in charge of the drill appeared.

"May I have your attention! Thanks for participating in the emergency drill today. We threw in a curveball and made one of the stairwells inaccessible due to a mock fire. Your evacuation took three minutes and 41 seconds. A good evacuation should have been less than two minutes and 30 seconds. We will be having a safety discussion with your representatives to see how we can improve this. Thank you for your time."

What?

WHAT?

WHAT?!?

For no more than 30 people to evacuate a not even half full floor, it took us that long? I was on the sixth floor rather quickly, and there were people coming down looong after me!

Demographically and statistically speaking, IBMers are supposed to be a group of highly-educated people, almost a cut above the general population. And we did worse than a group of middle school children during a massive school fire drill?!? To make this drill all the more embarrassing, the security guys screwed up and even gave us a few minutes of head start by accidentally tripping the alarm before the drill began!

How EMBARRASSING is that?!?

Anonymous My Ass!

2007-10-25T01:36:00.001-05:00

So a couple weeks ago, I got an email from my friend Holly telling me thanks for supporting her on hiking for a charitable cause. I wrote her back, asking what she was talking about. It turned out that apparently, many, many months ago, I had donated money for her cause. And I simply forgot about it.

Well, that little email exchange opened my eyes a little. I have always donated my money to causes I deem worthy, especially when my friends are fundraising while doing something good for themselves like a run, hike, bike, et cetera. And I have always donated my money anonymously.

Well, unbeknownst to me, when you donate money anonymously, you are really just keeping yourself anonymous from other potential donors, not a hundred percent anonymous as in the recipient not knowing who I was. That made me feel a little bit disappointed, because I never want people to know who gave how much to whom, you know?

I guess I'm just a little bit disappointed that anonymous donations aren't really anonymous. Oh well... In the end, I'm still supporting a good cause by proxy. Through several contributions I have made over the years, I don't feel so guilty for not running major races like the Chicago Marathon for charity. And I plan on continuing to support worthy causes my friends choose to partake in.

Ran Like a Girl!

2007-10-22T13:38:00.000-05:00

Okay, that title up there is not supposed to be self-deprecating, but more of an exclamation in excitement.

Damn right, I'm bragging that I ran like a girl! You see, this past weekend I have been (and still am) in San Francisco. I came here as a mini vacation so that I could run in the Nike Women's Half Marathon to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Sure, it is just a women's race, but after a small handful of boys crashing last year's race, I decided that I would crash it this year myself. And there were about 500 men registered this year, amongst the 23,000 capped runners.

As I'm sitting in my hotel room almost butt naked (as a germaphobe, do you think I would let my bare ass touch the seat in a hotel room, shared by thousands of past questionable guests), I'm just updating my blog, short and sweet, just to let you know I'm still alive and well.

I did the half marathon in 2:20:19. My new personal record! This year seems to be the year for me to break two personal records in half marathons. Earlier on August 12, I posted a personal record of 2:10:05 at the Chicago Distance Classic Half Marathon. Yes, my personal worst! And now, I broke my own worst record yet again, by more than 10 minutes!!!

Well, to my credit, this was my first hilly race, considering the fact that I'm really accustomed to the Chicago flats. Furthermore, this was just two weeks after my Chicago Marathon, which I'm supposed to be in recovery mode. And finally, I did not stop and walk throughout the entire race, other than to get hydration or use the porta-pots! I'm very pleased with my new personal worst record! =)

More to follow, hopefully with pictures. =)

Mobile Update: Are You Kidding Me?

2007-10-18T19:32:00.001-05:00

It is 18:43 central, on October 18, somewhere over Illinois 20 minutes before we are to land at Midway. Needless to say, I'm on my way home from Seattle.

Guess what? A dude fainted and collapsed into the first row in front of me! And he is very disoriented. Without any surprise, the flight attendants rushed to the forward gallery, and the following announcement was made: Is there a medical personnel onboard?

I really feel sorry for the guy, as the flight attendants props his feet up and a doctor assists him, but c'mon! THREE return trips from Seattle with medical emergencies? I must be cursed or something!

Over six years of nearly weekly travels have I ever been on and I have never seen a single medical emergency in-flight! And suddenly I witness three in a row? Is that like a hint fate is telling me that I need to stop flying?

Well, luckily I took a quick video of it before I realized that my N95 phone camera freaking lit up with a bright red light and before any flight attendants noticed me. I'll upload this blog from my mobile phone blogger once I land and upload the video later when I get home.

Update 2007.10.18 21:48: Here is the video...

Halloween Pub Crawl Costume Dilemma

2007-10-18T01:30:00.001-05:00

I suppose I've been more concerned with running the past half of the year that I really haven't given much thought on anything else as far as personal fun goes. After the Chicago Marathon on October 7, my mind was immediately set on the Nike Women's Half Marathon come this Sunday, October 21. And I can tell you that I won't be setting any personal records there, especially with the famed hills and the recovery time I'm still in.

Of course, my friend Maria asked me just the other day what costume I'd be wearing for the Halloween Pub Crawl, assuming that I would go. I guess her assumption was well placed, considering that I do enjoy dressing up and drinking like a fish. Once in a while, of course. Right then and there, I was suddenly stricken with a million dollar question, with barely enough time to plan since the pub crawl is on October 28!

Oh shit!

Well, this morning I thought my prayers were answered when I saw something in my Inbox with the following subject: Get inspired to build a geeky Halloween costume! I work in a geeky field, so I might try to be a super geek! I read through the email real quick while I got ready for work, and I thought it was a novel idea to be a walking, real Pac-Man arcade machine. All the while, I was thinking the costume was a play on words, with something of a sexual innuendo. I was going to be that this Halloween Pub Crawl.

Of course, when I returned to my hotel after work and dinner with friends, I decided to open the link. OMG! It is a real Pac-Man game with a freaking controller! A quick see-through of the "ingredients" needed revealed that you have to be someone who can freaking build a moving robot to assemble a home-made arcade game as a freaking costume. Worst of all? You have to wear a freaking laptop!

If time was on my side, and if I'm remotely good with doing anything electronic, I might be tempted to follow through with this idea. But simply put, I'm a practical man. A very practical man. The first thought that jumped to my mind when I saw a picture of the poor fella who created and wore this geek machine was: How the hell do you pee in urinals?!? As someone who thinks and plans ahead a lot and well experienced in pub crawling, easy access to urinals and easy way to relief myself is second nature to me like the fight-or-flight-reaction instilled in our human brain.

Who creates a monstrosity that will add burden to your pee routine? If it wasn't so freaking gay for a guy to wear a skirt, I'd pick any costume that involves skirts for Halloween just for the sake of being able pee with great ease that is a time-saver. I mean, who wants to neglect that frosty bottle of brewsky and drink warm beer? Definitely not yours truly.

Back to the drawing board I go again...

Not So Innocent Grandma

2007-10-12T15:53:00.001-05:00

So after the little medical scare about 30,000 feet somewhere between Seattle and Chicago, the captain finally allowed us to move about the cabin. We were not allowed to use the lavatories before then, because he wanted to ensure that the flight crew along with the doctors onboard can move about without interruption to the medical attention the lady was getting.

Naturally, after being held pee/poo-hostage for a considerable amount of time, it was to no one's surprise that as soon as the captain allowed us to move about the cabin, people got up to use the lavatory. Sitting at row six didn't help, because there was an innocent old man one row ahead of me who got up and into the aisle before I could after the first person stepped out of the front lavatory.

So I fixed my eyes on the lavatory status sign overhead. The minute the big red X over the lavatory symbol disappeared, I jumped out of the chair so as to prevent some other schmuck behind me from stealing that pee opportunity. When I got into the lavatory and lifted the toilet cover and seat, I was simply appalled that such an innocent old man could leave his pool of piss sitting there, all foamy and yellow.

Gross!

I didn't want to pee and have our combined piss accidentally splash onto my jeans, I pressed that blue button that created a strong air suction pulling all that foamy mess presumably into the sky. Yeah, whichever poor kid in Idaho who stuck out his tongue and thought he tasted snow crystals with his tongue sticking out will never know the dirty truth. =)

After my floodgates got opened and feeling quite satisfied, I thought I could finally fall asleep like a little baby. That I did, only after asking for a blanket from the flight attendant so I can cover my face and block out the bright sunlight.

I finally woke up about an hour before we were to land in Chicago, right after I unconsciously jerked my head back and pulled a big slurping noise out of the corner of my mouth. I knew I had to wake up because the girls I sat next to began giggling. Although they couldn't see it, I'm sure they could easily imagine that I must have some kind of drool trailing from the corner of my mouth to my shoulder.

When I pulled off the blanket from my face, not only was I hit with a couple strong rays of sunshine, but an urgent tug from within. Specifically, my bladder. Shit, I gotta go! I looked up at the lavatory signage, and sure enough, it was occupied.

I waited, and waited.

And then I waited some more.

I almost got down on my knees and sang praises to the baby lord Jesus when the lavatory sign turned green without the big red X. Out came a little frail, old lady. As we passed each other in the aisle, I smiled at her, while she returned the favor. I thought I caught a glimpse of an evil kind of a smile, but I blew it off thinking it was just my dreary eyes still adjusting to the light.

After I locked the door behind me, I lifted the toilet cover and seat. Lo and behold, in all its glory, a couple pieces of sticky doo doo sat right there, staring right back at me. I gagged. And I gagged again. Holy shit, grandma!!!

As I started to pee, I was still shocked at the fact that sweet, innocent grandma could possibly leave me such a present. Then I realized soon enough that I had to save my pee, because there must be others waiting to use the lavatory after me. And if those two pieces of sticky shit still sat there when I leave, it would be utterly embarrassing, especially if one of the two cute girls sitting next to me was to go right after me.

I couldn't possibly let that kind of humiliation happen to me, even though it wasn't my shit to begin with. Seeing that I'm a guy, I am well equipped to pee with near deadly aim. So I decided to take matters into my hand, and pee as hard as I could on the two pieces of grandma shit.

I was really determined to get those sticky buggers out of sight, or at least dislodged just a little enough so that the flush could take them away. And just as I began feeling my bladder almost empty, both of grandma's sticky shits budged!

Hooray! Hooray!!!

After flushing and washing my hands, I came out of that lavatory feeling really proud. But I made damn sure that I give the not-so-innocent grandma a smile and a wink when I walk by her. Not to gloat, but to let her know I took care of her business. =)

Mobile Update: False Alarm

2007-10-12T12:22:00.001-05:00

Well, thankfully, the passenger who lost consciousness is alright. She is an 87 year old lady who had just lost her husband.

That's sad. And that's one of my biggest fears in life, to outlive a beloved one.

I guess thankfully to a lesser extent, I won't be spending the entire day slowly trekking across the United States by way of Lincoln, Nebraska.

Mobile Update: Is There a Doctor Onboard?

2007-10-12T12:21:00.001-05:00

Seriously. What is up with the 06:35 flight (WN-1397) from Seattle to Chicago on Fridays? Two weeks ago, on the exact same flight, we had to stop in Lincoln, NE because a passenger had a medical emergency in-flight. Well, I'm having a bad case of deja-vu, as I heard an announcement overhead inquiring if there was a doctor onboard, just like in the movies. As I type this draft blog on my N95 midair, I can feel the plane drop in altitude, and a slight change in direction in an otherwise non-eventful direct flight that should keep us in a constant cruising altitude for the majority of the 4 hours and 30 minutes airborne time.

I honestly hope whoever the ill-stricken passenger is not in any immediate danger and can survive long enough to see miles of corn that leads up to the Lincoln, Nebraska airport. It'd be nice to revisit, but I wouldn't be opposed to stopping somewhere else for a 'change in scenery.' I'll be sure to update you once I land and connect to AT&T.

Oh, I should also add that unlike the flight two weeks ago today, today's flight is filled with doctors! I remembere talking to a couple doctors at my hotel in Seattle over the week because there was a medical convention!

I wonder if the commotion a few rows behind me is playing out like a scene in Grey's Anatomy where a bunch of doctors and residents argue over possible diagnosises. :)

If You Wear a Trench Coat...

2007-10-10T15:56:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wonder if certain people you know are racists or the kind to stereotype people in their ids. Do you ever have a friend who you know pretty well, and you know he/she in general does not have tendencies to stereotype, yet you sometimes catch him/her implicitly reveal the silent racist in him/her?

For example, what relevance is there for stressing that someone is black when telling the story of how you got cut off in a line for the restroom at a concert? Wouldn't the story still be the same if you leave out the "black" part? Why even mention the aggressor's race at all?

From my point of view, by even being that specific, the person telling the story just revealed that deep down, he/she has some racist tendencies. Or in general, tendencies to stereotype. I'm not saying that in every similar case, the person is a racist. Just a tendency. Being specific also defines a good story teller, and is in no way, shape or form to indicate one's prejudices. But you wonder sometimes...

Well, what prompted this analogy was MTV's reporting of a recent school shooting by a 14 year old boy in Cleveland today. As a reporter or journalist, Gil Kaufman has a duty to report facts objectively. Although the news was heartbreaking, she needs to remain objective and control how information is presented after gathering the necessary information from various interviews.

Specifically, was it necessary for Gil Kaufman to include this quote by a student?

"I knew that dude was crazy, man. He always wore a trench coat."

To me, that is absolutely unethical in terms of professionalism in journalism. Were it be reported in other sections of MTV.com, I would not have any problem, but to include that in the news section kind of reduce its legitimacy as a news outlet. That statement was made by a student who clearly was prejudicial. And it was only an opinion, not a fact.

News agencies and their agents have the fiduciary obligation to present facts, not opinions. This simply perpetuates fear mongering amongst the public to be wary of those who wear trench coats. Because, like MTV and the kid, anybody who wears trench coats are simply crazy people!

Be very careful of trench coats... Next thing you know, it may attack you from the rack when you go shopping for clothes at your neighborhood mall.

A Marathon Not To Be Forgotten

2007-10-09T01:19:00.000-05:00

It was Sunday evening, around 18:45, when my friend Sabine called. She wanted to check in with me and see how I did in the Chicago Marathon, and ask if I'd be willing to go help her move a couple boxes into her new condo. That silly girl! Here I was, barely able to walk with an unmistaken limp with pains shooting out of my knees and sore muscles all over my legs and shoulders, and my friend asked me to help her move some small items. Being French that she was, I text messaged her husband to let them know that a marathon is 46.195 kilometers long, in case if she didn't understand exactly what 26.2 miles entailed.

Instead of going out to dinner with them, I opted to stay in, for I was dying with exhaustion and had a 07:10 flight to catch Monday morning. I wanted at least six hours of sleep. I tried to watch the Bears-Packers game, but I was too busy cooking, showering and packing for my business trip to Seattle. Besides, we were doing horribly against the 4-0 team. Of course, it turned out that I should've stayed up to watch the game because we had won...

Anyway, I went over to Myke's place on Saturday night because he lived smack in the middle of downtown, a few blocks away from the Start of the Chicago Marathon. The idea was to get as much sleep as possible, and not worry about waking up early enough to deal with public transportation or parking. Unfortunately, my day's activity on Saturday ran longer than expected, and I didn't get to sleep till 23:30.

Before I left for Seattle the Sunday of September 30, I briefly looked up the weather forecast throughout the week in Chicago. It was going to be a scorcher for much of the weekdays due to a troublesome high pressure system that kept the jet stream north of Chicago. But at that time, the forecast called for cooler temperatures come Sunday. And of course, by the time I returned home from Seattle this past Friday, the forecast for that heat had been wrong, and the high pressure was going to stay longer. Change of plans as far as clothing goes.

I packed two running outfits with me, one for the hot and muggy type of weather, and another for more of a regular warm weather. Obviously I ended up picking out the tank top that was touted by Nike to be cling-free and best for moisture management. Unfortunately though, that exact tank top would be black. So that was my first tough decision for the marathon, which turned out to be one of several critical decisions I faced throughout the day.

The next decision was if I should bring my hydration belt or not. A hydration belt with four eight ounce bottles certainly can weigh a runner down during a race as opposed to a training run which is typically slower. Since the race organizers had already planned out and finalized the route for months, I knew that with the heat, I might not be able to last between the 15 aid stations about one to two miles apart. So I decided to wear my hydration belt to the race, as well as making extra Accelerade in a bottle for Myke to carry for refill later on the middle of the race where we had planned to meet.

When I was ready on Sunday morning, Myke and I did a brisk jog to the start of the race so that my muscles could warm up enough to stretch. Even my 16 minute mile jog, which was quite slow, at 07:00 made me glisten a lot. I knew right then and there that it wasn't going to be a good day, especially when I had planned to do well in this marathon after the disaster that was the 2006 Arizona Rock 'n Roll Marathon. This was going to be my first marathon which I had trained for, with plans of not getting any injury, unlike my last attempt.

As I stood in the corral for the 4:15 finish time group, I waited patiently while taking pictures and eavesdropping on other runners' conversation. After all, I was running by myself, whereas the others who I had been training with all summer long were in a slower pace group. I stood by an old Japanese couple who had flown in from Japan, and I was quite inspired and awed that these two were lined up in the 4:15 group. On the back of the old Japanese man's shirt was the route of the Tokyo Marathon, which he had run in. That was freaking inspiring.

When the line moved forward for the top 10 competitors after the national anthem was sung, emotions began running high. People were wooting and cheering. Runners were pumped, and everybody got closer together. It was so close that I could feel the warmth and energy emenating from my fellow runners. Adrenaline pumped throughout my body. I wanted to just break out and run, were it not for the massive crowd. The moment sank in when we all walked under the start sign, while the repetitive beeps of the electronic timing chip computer logged each passing runner. Yup, this is definitely the point of no return.

I started out slowly, running a brisk 11 minute mile. I wanted to start out with a sound mindset and not get carried with the crowd, because if you get caught up in the excitement, you may accidentally run faster than you have trained for, which may cause you to be tired sooner easily. Surprisingly, the first mile came faster than I thought, even though in the reality of time, it was just perfect. Our first mile took us by the famed Millennium Park and under the BP Bridge.

My second mile was kind of interesting, because we had to run on the bridge over the Chicago river on State Street. When you're driving over the grated bridge, you'd never think anything more than the loud noise your tires make when going over them. But when on foot, it became weird. I had to run like a duck with my feet pointed outwards, because I didn't want to twist my ankles over the long and wide gaps of the metal grates. Unfortunately, I saw a woman trip and fall face forward on the bridge about 25 yards to my right. Fortunately, other runners around her helped her up and ensured that she was okay. And around that time, a couple really cute girls yelled out my name and cheered, "Go John!" The night prior, I spent lots of quality time with Myke and Sharyl's cutting board, kitchen knives, and duct tape, whereby I created perfectly shaped block letters that spelled out my name for the front and back of my top. These girls were running faster than me, and they introduced themselves as Team Fish.

Right after the bridge, I saw two portable toilets, but there was a long line of runners. Just then, I saw a couple runners run to the alley before the toilets and disappeared into the loading dock of a really nice, black marbled office building. I ran back to the alley, and made peace with the pee gods along with four other runners. I certainly hoped the building janitors and engineers didn't mind the impromptu conversion of their loading dock into a temporary stink zone. This would be the first and last time I would pee throughout the entire race.

Myke and I rendezvoused at Mile 3, on the LaSalle Street bridge over the Chicago River. Our friend Jeff was there too, and they both snapped pictures of me. At that point in time, my spirits were still high. I even had a smile from ear to ear and posed for the camera. And then I went into a zone right away. I think I was keeping a pretty steady pace for the next four miles, and I don't even remember passing the major streets of Fullerton (Mile 6) and Belmont (Mile 7) except for the constant cheers from the crowd calling the names of a Katie and Erin, with a sprinkle of John here and there. I assumed that those two girls must be good looking, and running my pace, because their names got called for miles and miles and miles.

The only thing I remembered next was when I reached the northern tip of the race course where I had to turn on Addison. I recognized it because that is where my friend Erin lived, and I was in the lookout for her in the crowd. But I didn't hear or see her. The course on Addison was short before turning south on Broadway for Mile 8. This is where my other friends Maria and Matt live, and I was hoping to see them too. But I didn't remember passing their apartment, nor did I see them. But I think I was temporarily distracted by a cute spectator holding up a sign that read "I FARTED" and a stage full of men in drag and pretty ponytails and skirts doing the cheer. Instantaneously I recognized that I was entering Boystown, a neighborhood so nicknamed because of the prolific gay community there.

I was back in the zone for the next couple miles, until I passed Mile 10 where we turned onto North Avenue. I recognized the road, and was beginning to feel excited because I knew it was getting close to being halfway there. And I was holding up a steady 11 minute mile pace still. So far, I had run continuously without stopping, and I was proud of that. But when I got near the Fleet Feet station on North Avenue, I thought my worst fear had come through. Instead of paying attention to the ground below me, I was looking at the Fleet Feet station and all their cheers, and I accidentally stepped into a giant pothole slightly wider than my foot and significantly longer. My entire right foot sank in and landed at the bottom at an angle, twisting my ankle on the way. I yelled out a quick Shit! and limped out of the pothole. I slowed down a bit to make sure that no race-killing damage had occurred. Thankfully, I soldiered on.

The one and a half miles between Mile 10.5 and 12 along Wells street back into downtown Chicago was the toughest stretch during the first half of the marathon. The many signs that spectators were holding up reading "Back to Downtown!" were an encouragement, yet I couldn't see the loop. All I could see was the long stretch of runners' head bobbing up and down into the horizon, and a rather tiny Sears Tower. That was certainly a psych out point for me.

By the time I reached downtown, I was just a mile away from the half way point. I finally looked up and marveled at the beauty of concrete, steel and glass that surrounded me. I felt as if I was running in a huge valley of concrete cliff walls. And my GPS watch concurred, because it couldn't get a fix from the satellites above. When I finally turned west onto Adams Street for Mile 13, I was pleased to see Myke and Jeff again. By this time, I had already consumed two of the three Accel energy gels and two of the four bottles of Accelerade. I stopped on the Adams Street bridge over the Chicago River and chatted with them for a few seconds. After getting three more packets of the Accel energy gels and giving Myke my two empty bottles so that he could refill and pass them back to me at Mile 17 (our next rendezvous point), I took off and crossed the half marathon split. I was quite elated that I did that in 2:14:14.

The long stretch west on Adams Street was a little bit brutal, because the sun was right behind us beating down on our necks and backs. But I ran towards Mile 15 with determination and a hint of stubbornness. After passing Mile 15 and heading back east on Jackson Street, I decided to take in another Accel energy gel. This was when trouble began for me that forced me to walk. And I was rather disappointed too, because I wasn't tired or anything. Of all possible things, I suddenly developed a piercing itch somewhere in my right tonsil and began coughing uncontrollably. Just when I thought I would push harder in the second half, I ended up walking between mile 15.5 and 16.6. As thick, clear mucous continued to build up in my throat, I was brainstorming why that was happening to me. If anything, I was quite perplexed, because before leaving Myke's place that morning, I had taken Zyrtec to prevent from being attacked by allergies. Yet I was experiencing the very classic symptom of something like pollen stuck in my throat on a day when I forgot my allergy pills!

After walking for a mile into Mile 16.5, I decided to start running again. The next designated rendezvous with Myke and Jeff was going to be at Mile 17, and to hell if I was going to let him catch me walking. This is a guy who has been running lots of marathons and been attempting to qualify for the Boston continuously. I couldn't possibly display a poor show of athleticism, especially when it was not tiredness or fatigue that made me walk, but a freaking allergy attack. The run towards Mile 17 south on Halsted was probably the stretch where my eyes watered the most and I hocked loogies continuously to get rid of whatever it was lodged in my tonsil. I'm sure the runners around me were getting really disgusted with me, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes.

My first disappointment occurred during the Halsted stretch at Mile 17. Myke wasn't present, and I only had half a bottle of Accelerade left, and I needed my refills. Furthermore, it was on this stretch where I saw a runner take off his shoe on the sidewalk in disgust and angrily threw it against the wall. I assumed that he must have gotten injured or somehow disabled and he knew he had to stop despite still having it left in him to finish. Then he picked up his shoe again from where it bounced off the wall and threw it against the wall again before yelling F**k! It was demoralizing, because for the most of us, we have trained almost half a year for this day, and for something unexpected cutting your race short was simply disappointing at best. And finally, the last disappointing thing about this stretch was that I totally forgot the course went west on Taylor for a mile, then south on Ashland, then east on 18th, before turning south again on Halsted. As a result, this was my second psych out point, because as someone who lives here in Chicago, the whole time I was thinking I wasn't far from Chinatown, which was at Mile 21. But I was actually quite far away.

When I turned west on Taylor towards Mile 18, I ran by Little Italy. I could smell the wonderful Italian aroma in the air, and it was certainly pleasant. That alone got me past my psych out shocker. But before I reached the lone PowerBar Power Gel station right before Mile 18, I saw my first runner down on the sidewalk, being cradled by fellow runners and spectators. I felt sorry and wanted to help along with the others, but I knew more hands would make matters worse. So I kept on running.

By the time I turned south on Ashland past Mile 18, I decided that the little bit of sprinkles on my torso and head wasn't going to cut it, so I took my proactive measures to the next level. Whenever I see an aid station or a water hose thanks to the generosity of my fellow Chicagoans, I would just dump it slowly all over me from head to toe. I had reservations about this initially, but after seeing another runner down and unconscious along Ashland,* I decided that the risk of soggy socks and blisters on my feet far outweighed the potential fatal harms of heat stroke.

When I turned east on 18th at Mile 19, it finally dawned on me that I needed to reevaluate my desire of reaching my 4:15 goal time. I figured with the allergy attack previously that resulted in almost a mile of continuous walking, I would reset my expectation to finishing at 4:30, given the fact that I would make up some of the lost time by pushing harder later on. But alas, I got another dose of fright when I saw more runners down. Instead of just one here and there, now I was seeing downed runners more frequently.

And worst of all, the field was now a clusterf**k. Instead of the usual sight of runners who also had similar goal times as myself with +/- 15 minutes, I was seeing a field of runners in the 3:30 pace group all the way to the elite competitors carrying bib numbers with preferred starts of B, C and D! And here I was, a general runner who couldn't even qualify for a preferred corral start, and I was catching up to some of the seasoned runners!

This was a turning point for me, because I decided to yet lower my 4:30 goal to anything sub-5:00, and kicked in my strategy thinking hat. I decided that from then on, I would walk in the full blast of the sun, and run only when the shades of tall buildings and scattered clouds could afford me. Not to be a total wuss or anything, as I thought about the Valley of Death Marathon in the dead of summer where temperatures could reach 130 degrees, I understood my limits and what I've been training for. Those Valley of Death marathoners dedicated themselves through months of training in the heat, and the course was probably planned towards that, unlike the Chicago Marathon, which has been traditionally cooler.

Finally, I reached Mile 20 and began heading south on Halsted again. This is where they passed out huge sponges drenched in ice cold water. I took a sponge, and instead of wasting it by squeezing the all the water onto my head, I took the smart route and placed it under my collar behind my neck. I figured that I could give myself an exemption from the no-running-in-direct-sunlight rule when I have a constant trickle of water coming down from the sponge. And boy, did it help ever!

Unfortunately, not all my strategy has been stellar so far, because as I started running again, I could feel my heart pounding hard with pain. I instantly recognized that when I got really spooked during the last couple miles after witnessing so many downed runners, I accidentally over-hydrated myself. And my mistake was not without warrant, because my being spooked was also exacerbated by the fact that Myke wasn't there at Mile 17 as planned, and by then I only had half a bottle of Accelerade on me so I was drinking a cup of Gatorade and a cup of water at each and every aid station instead of just one cup of either. Oh, and I should add here that there was a banana station along with the sponge, and even on asphalt, water, Gatorade and banana peels just provided for a very dangerous running condition, which I had to wait till the ground was no longer yellowish for some yards before I could run again.

Although my chest was pounding in pain and I felt like puking, I pressed on. I focused myself and slowly returned into the zone that I did not even realize that I had passed Mile 21. Then I was suddenly greeted with the loud clanging and banging of Chinese drums and cymbals, and I instantly recognized that I had entered Chinatown. I whipped out my Canon SD20 camera from my back pocket, and was ready to take pictures of the Chinese lions dancing in the corner of Cermak and Wentworth, as well as the gate adorned in American and Taiwanese flags that I will be running underneath. Sadly, either my battery died prematurely, or the excessive sweat and constant dousing of water rendered the camera unresponsive. I really wanted a picture of the beautiful crowds at that corner under the gate, because it has large Taiwanese flags, which I used to be a citizen of.

Despite the lost Kodak Moment opportunity, running through Chinatown was a big morale boost. Strangely, there weren't proportionally more Asian spectators in the crowd than anywhere else along the course on average, yet I got cheered on the most, unlike the first part of the course heading north when more people were cheering on a Katie and Erin. I was ecstatic, and I ran harder with a smile. Although the cheering and hearing my name yelled out in encouragement is always welcome, there is a side effect which I really don't like. I am not one of those runners who will not acknowledge spectators when cheered on, so I will always smile, say thanks, raise my hands with thumbs up, or point my finger at the spectator. And I was getting really tired with raising my arms through Chinatown, especially I hardly said thanks when I was breathing hard while running harder. It was all appreciated, nonetheless.

Then my first major blow to the race came at the 35 km mark, when I could see the clock atop the Mile 22 post some yards ahead. There was a loud announcement from race organization volunteers and paramedics telling us that the race has been cancelled due to excessive dangerous heat. Runners all around me got dejected, and some even got pissed! I thought it was a cruel joke, until I saw the clock read "C" on the 35 km split timer. As I ran over the timing mat, I didn't hear a beep from the computer. Then I heard one runner scream, "They can't cancel the race when we have reached 22 miles!!! It's just not fair!" I kept my mouth shut, but ran anyway, until I saw yet another runner down. I decided to walk. The blaring message over the loudspeaker said to the effect of the race being canceled and we are to walk until buses could pick us up. After hearing that, I decided to walk and grab another banana at the aid station past Mile 22. After all, with so many runners out there, I was certain that I would have to wait to get on a bus, and wait some more while on the bus, and the last thing I wanted was to be hungry while standing or sitting still for hours. So the banana was to be a snack for the eventual and impending bus ride.

I walked and walked and walked, and before long, I turned east onto 33rd Street, a cool half mile later. No sight of any buses. I saw a couple runners in front of me pull out a sweat-drenched map, and I glanced at it quickly to memorize the remainder of the course, because by then I decided to run as far as I can until I was forced out of the race. I would then time myself up to the distance where I would be forced off the course for my own personal keeping. So I began running again. With a banana in my hand. And every time I passed a major intersection, I memorized the cross streets and the time on my watch.

But as I kept on running, I saw no buses. I saw no course marshals roping off the course. I then hit Mile 23, which was designated as the International Mile. There was a huge banner under an overpass with large Korean letters. To the side of it was an English translation, which read, "Running For Dream." That poor grammar was probably the biggest pick-me-up in an otherwise dejected race after being told it was canceled.

As I ran past Mile 24, along with the recent pick-me-up humor fresh in my head, I decided to run to the finish, no matter what. So I threw away my "snack for the bus" banana onto the sidewalk where there were a few kids sitting there, and I found some renewed energy. I thought that if I didn't finish this, I would be really pissed. And the funny part was that my motivation was for the wrong reasons! Instead of wanting to finish a race without injury and under 5:00:00, I now question my sanity for my reasoning back then. If I didn't finish the race, I would have wasted a lot of money for buying two finishers' plaques, one for me and one for my parents, as they were non-refundable. Furthermore, I have invested heavily in this race: a commemorative jacket, several technical clothing articles highlighting the popular annual Chicago sporting event, and more. It would all mean nothing to me if I didn't finish the race. I know, that was somewhat morbid, but it did the job, considering I don't make that much money to begin with.

Starting with Mile 23, the announcement by the race volunteers that the race was over came more frequently and loudly. To pour more salt on fresh wound, a police helicopter kept on flying in laps following the course with a loud bullhorn that we all should walk, because the race was over. I heard conflicting stories from volunteers along the course between Mile 23 and 25. "The race is officially closed, you will not get your chip timed!" "The race is closed, but you can still walk to the finish and get your chip timed!" "You can stop now; there will be buses available to take you back to the finish!"

Well, which is it?!? The Chicago Fire Department is saying one thing, the race volunteers are saying another, and the Chicago Police Department is saying something different. And to add to the confusion, the spectators continued to cheer on us. "You can do it! You're almost there!"

'Nuff said!

That was the last thing that came into my head before I started running harder. Sadly though, that newfound burst of energy and determination didn't last long. After getting doused in lots of water and running in soggy socks for more than an hour, it was apparent that three more blisters had began to form, besides the other three that felt like I was born with (one on the left big toe, one on the right big toe and one on the ball of my right feet). In particular, one of the new blisters was on the bottom of my foot between the big and second toes. I have never had that before, and if I walked, it felt like a burning itch, but if I ran and put pressure on it, it stung like acid was being dripped into an open wound. Not only did the new blisters discourage me, but Myke was right in that after passing Mile 23, the next three miles north on Michigan Avenue would be tough. After all, it was only two miles, but each block seemed to take longer to pass than if I was taking a leisurely walk while shopping downtown. On top of all that, you could see the glory that is downtown from there. Yeah, that was yet another psych out point. Well, not really a point, but a three mile long psych out.

As I walked and took refuge in the shades of tall buildings of Prairie District, I started feeling down. With all the announcements and the constant reminder of the police helicopter hovering over my head, I was sure I would be forced off the course. As I approached Mile 25, I saw several CTA buses drive down the course in the opposite direction of the race. BUSES ON THE COURSE! As I got closer to the buses, I noticed that there was a personnel in bright orange event uniform with the huge letters: MD. I thought for a second, before realizing that it probably stood for Medical Director. Shit, he is shutting down the course! I thought that was finally it, and I quickly looked at my watch. 4:45.

4:45?

Yes, 4:45!

Instantly, instinct from many past races took over my mind and body. Pain none withstanding, I just took off running. I realized that if I started running at a pace of at least 11 minute mile, there was a good chance that I could still finish the race with the remaining 1.2 miles under 5:00! Suddenly I had a clear and focused goal in my mind. I knew it was going to be a challenge, because I had been running 11 minute mile pace for the most part of the race, and I knew I was wiped out quickly. Not only was I running against time while looking at my watch every few seconds to monitor my pace, I was hoping against hope that the police and race organizers wouldn't block off the turn into Roosevelt right before the 26 mile mark.

Suddenly, I was in a whole new zone, this time with more concentration and focus then anywhere else on the course.

I can do it!

Push harder!

C'mon, you walked for almost four, if not five miles of the course. You have taken all the rest you need. Just do it!

Among a sea of walkers, I began zigzagging through the crowd. There were times that I had go so far as to avoid groups of walkers that I would go from the east sidewalk of the street to the west sidewalk of the street, and I did that two more times! If you're familiar with Chicago, in that side of town, Michigan Avenue is a four lane road with an extra turning lane in the middle, essentially making it a total of five lanes! I couldn't believe I had to go to that extremes to avoid the throngs of walkers, but if there was ever any other moment in my life where I had to pull through so much adversity, it certainly wasn't ingrained in my memory.

With just 25 yards to go before turning east onto the Roosevelt overpass over Lake Shore Drive, I saw police cruisers driving south against the flow of the race course, with their bullhorns screaming, pleading the few remaining runners to stop. I didn't look behind me, as I had my eyes on the cruisers, but I could tell there were only four other runners ahead of me in a pool of walkers. One by himself, and a group of three to my right. As the cop in the passenger side of the lead cruiser pointed his finger at me while holding the radio microphone on his other hand, I heard a loud siren followed by, "This race is over! Don't run! Walk to the finish line!" Fortunately, I ran by him, and the cops in both cruisers did not jump out and tackle me as I had imagined.

Just as I turned the corner onto the Roosevelt overpass, I witnessed with my own naked eyes the famed "insurmountable hill." Sure, I have driven over this portion of Roosevelt many times before, but when on foot, it is more than just an insurmountable hill. The sight was so magnificently discouraging as if you were facing Mount Everest that the middle guy in the pack of three stumbled and nearly fainted. His friends to his sides quickly caught him by the arms, and helped him up.

I quickly ran past the group of three, and set my eyes on the other jogger in front of me. I rolled my eyes as I saw him against the backdrop of the "hill," and said loudly, "Here we go!" Just then, people on the left side of the course started cheering on me. There were what seemed like hundreds of walkers all over the overpass, so I was forced to run along the left edge of the course, inches away from the spectators. People were giving me high-fives, and yelling words of encouragement. I simply let it all sink in slowly, and kicked it up a notch. I concentrated so I could regulate my breathing while I tackled the hill.

I looked at my watch, and to my surprise, I was charging up at 10:45 minute mile pace. I'm sure that is slow for a lot of runners, but for someone like me after spending over four and a half hours in the grueling sun running almost 26 miles, that is freaking amazing on a steep hill nonetheless! And it didn't take me long before passing the lone runner in front of me.

As I moved closer and closer to the peak of the overpass, I almost got knocked in the head by some bored girl holding up a huge sign when she turned around with just a foot or two in front of me. Either I was just ugly that I disgusted her, or (hopefully) she just had to go pee. I thought to myself, "This is how I'm getting out of the race, with a freaking concussion thanks to a 13 year old girl."

When you're tired and your mind is in disarray, things seem exaggerated than reality. I thought my six foot body was sure to slam into the girl's sign, but luckily, I ran underneath her sign with inches to spare. I quickly refocused on the "hill." I must have blacked out or lost touch with the world momentarily, because I cannot remember for the life of me the moment between the girl with the sign and my actual reaching the peak of the overpass.

In fact, I only realized what had happened maybe 10 yards into the other side of the peak. From then on, I had a smile as wide as the world as I gently cruised down the hill. I looked at my watch, and it was 4:55:40. I knew right away that barring from a sudden attack of a heat cramp or twisting my ankle on the crack of the road, I was going to make it under five hours. Under five hours!!!

When I turned the final corner and started heading back north at Mile 26 on Columbus Drive towards the Finish Line, either the world fell silent or my ear drums temporarily lost blood circulation. With just 0.2 mile left, the end was further than it appears. I began drifting towards the center of the course, but I saw five little hands reach out to my left right by the 300 meter mark. These kids didn't even know me, yet they were more excited than I was and had the eager eyes for me to high-five them as I ran by. And I'm not one to not respond to people who encourages me, so I drifted back to the left side of the course and high-fived them. Before the fourth hand was slapped, a fifth kid threw out an impromptu hand.

At that point in time, my emotion was, well, I don't think I can put a finger on it. With just 300 meters left, I felt excited. I also felt like I needed to release the built-up tension in me and cry because I had witnessed so many of my fellow brethren runners collapse along the way. I certainly have never, ever ran a race seeing even one single runner collapse, other than a slight trip and fall, where they picked themselves right back up. And best of all, I felt strong without any serious pain or injury that I could feel at the time.

Again I concentrated on my breathing, focusing deep breaths entirely through my mouth instead of in by nose and out by mouth, and began sprinting at 9:00 minute mile pace. I didn't know it at the time, and I couldn't hear anything just like in the movies when all you could hear was your own breathing, but my friends Myke, Erin and Aarthi were lined up on the left right by the 300 meter sign, next to the kids I had high-fived cheering on me.

While other runners were jogging slowly, relieved to see the Finish Line, I was passing everyone. Next came 200 meters. I pushed harder still. A little ahead of me was a guy who began limping after a short distance of light jogging. His two hot friends jumped the fence onto the course and carried him towards the Finish Line. Then I passed 100 meters. And I saw some course marshals motioning me to slow down, as if I was a maniacal driver speeding through a construction zone.

With just five steps left till the Finish Line, I caught a course marshal in the corner of my eye grabbing one of the two girls carrying their friend. "Miss, you can't come in here!" I wanted to defend the girls for their big-hearted support of their friend in the spirit of the human perseverance, but I decided that crowd management and public safety was of higher priority.

Within a second or two, the distinctive beep could be heard chiming to my right. The crowds' cheers finally became audible. I kept on running in disbelief, and had to force myself to stop before running into tired runners in the final staging area. I wanted to cry. I wanted to just fall to the ground and close my eyes and relax.

Of course, what did I do? As soon as I saw the crane platform in the air with cameras pointing at my general vicinity, I told myself that this isn't the moment for any tears, but a smile and a fist up in the air! I hoped that one of the three cameramen had caught that shining moment, before turning my focus to reuniting with Myke and Erin.

My excitement and satisfaction soon dissipated, because I realized that I still had lots of energy left. I decided that it was not the time to mope, but celebrate and think of all the bad decisions I made during the race at a later time. And I found the perfect distraction from being self-analytical: the official finisher's photo shots! I was so silly that I struck different poses with different photographers. Yup! I had the insanity to wait in three different lines to take three different poses!

I couldn't be any happier for finishing my first Chicago Marathon in what I now call my hometown! Especially so when my watch read 4:57:19, but my chip time recorded 4:56:59. It wasn't anywhere near my goal of 4:15, but after running a marathon in one of the most grueling environments ever, I think I'm more than happy that I even finished!

HISTORIC RECORDS

Men's Finish: Patrick Ivuti of Kenya beat Jaouad Gharib from Morocco by five-hundredths of a second, the closest finish in the Chicago Marathon's 30 year run... Both seemed to have crossed the finish line together, and officials had to rely on photo finish before announcing the winner a few minutes later.

Women's Finish: The women's race featured one of marathon's greatest comebacks in history with Ethiopian Berhane Adere sprinting past Romanian Adriana Pirtea, closing the 30 seconds gap between the two at the final 50 yards of the race. (You absolutely must watch this YouTube video of how it played out in order to appreciate the very sport of the marathon; crank up the volume to hear the audio.)

Hottest Race: 2007 saw the hottest race temperature at 88 degrees (without humidity factor) in the Chicago Marathon's 30 year history. The previous record of 84 degrees was last recorded in 1979, a year before I was born.

Hottest Day in Chicago: 2007 saw the hottest October 7 ever recorded in the Chicago Weather Almanac, surpassing the previous record of 86 degrees in 1982.

No-Shows: According to race officials, approximately 10,000 of the capped 45,000 runners in the sold-out event did not even bother lining up for the race.

The Pee Dilemma: After peeing just once early in the race, I never peed again, despite drinking so much fluids. Yes, it was that hot! In fact, after the race, I drank fluids all day, and I never peed! That goes to show how hot it was, as I was sweating all of the liquids in me!

REFERENCE

Course Map of the 2007 Chicago Marathon

Video of the Chicago Marathon Course in 10 Minutes

* When I first saw the motion-less runner passed out with two fellow runners and a spectator cradling him, I thought it was just heat exhaustion. But when reports of a fatality came through, the initial pictures posted by the news struck a striking similarity in the facial features. Later on, I became sure that who I saw on the ground was probably not Chad Schieber, because A) according to news reports, Chad collapsed just a quarter mile further from where I saw the fallen runner, and B) more pictures of Chad on news websites showed a longer face despite similar looks. My heart goes out to his family, especially his wife who they started out together but ended up splitting at the 10 km mark. His wife never learned of his death till after she had returned to the hotel. What a sad way to learn of the news.