...besides the fact that I've taken residence on the couch, my worldly posessions are strewn all over the living room, and I only have access to 3 pairs of pants at the moment?
I wore a jacket today. and it's only September.
"people willingly work in Oakland?"
-KE
8/21/09
kicking the pail
You know you have one. And if you don't, then you've probably considered making one at some point.
We all have some sort of list of things we want to see/do in our lifetime. I've talked about it more extensively amongst people in the past, but only now am taking the effort to write it down. So here's mine, in no particular order:
-go in one of those tubes where the money is flying around (like you see in Vegas or in game shows!)
-do a pole vault successfully
-watch fireworks from a plane/helicopter (I'm sure the view would be awesome)
-wrestle in a fat suit
-go to the opening ceremony of the Olympics (but who could top China, really)
-climb Half Dome (but where the hell would you start climbing??)
-drive cross country in an RV
-go to a shooting range, and fire an automatic weapon...at a watermelon
-do a favor for someone who can't repay it
-see a Cirque Du Soleil show (cause I want my own trippy knocked up-esque experience!)
-see the Blue Man Group live (I mean, I've got their cds already)
-climb a rock wall (but wouldn't climbing Half Dome be kinda like climbing a rock wall?)
-go to a taping of The Daily Show (and grovel at Jon Stewart and exclaim "we're not worthy! we're not worthy!)
-finish the ladder game...successfully!
(someday, someday.)
-go on those bouncy things that people jump on and launch you into the lake
-go to the Gilroy Garlic Festival (and try that famed garlic flavored ice cream)
-own a player piano
-make my own wine(yes I realize there is already a wine named after me...I still want my own though!)
-learn at least one song on the accordion (my inspiration):
-get in trouble enough with the police to be yelled at but not arrested
-go on price is right (that's me high-fiving the lady who was called down at about 9 seconds in):
-go to a county fair (why yes, that is a deep fried white castle burger. completely unnecessary and probably life reducing...but totally worth it): 
I'm sure I'll more to add down the line. Till then...
"it's a Hugo Boss scent...as recommended by a homosexual!"
-BS
We all have some sort of list of things we want to see/do in our lifetime. I've talked about it more extensively amongst people in the past, but only now am taking the effort to write it down. So here's mine, in no particular order:
-go in one of those tubes where the money is flying around (like you see in Vegas or in game shows!)
-do a pole vault successfully
-watch fireworks from a plane/helicopter (I'm sure the view would be awesome)
-wrestle in a fat suit
-go to the opening ceremony of the Olympics (but who could top China, really)
-climb Half Dome (but where the hell would you start climbing??)
-drive cross country in an RV
-go to a shooting range, and fire an automatic weapon...at a watermelon
-do a favor for someone who can't repay it
-see a Cirque Du Soleil show (cause I want my own trippy knocked up-esque experience!)
-see the Blue Man Group live (I mean, I've got their cds already)
-climb a rock wall (but wouldn't climbing Half Dome be kinda like climbing a rock wall?)
-go to a taping of The Daily Show (and grovel at Jon Stewart and exclaim "we're not worthy! we're not worthy!)
-finish the ladder game...successfully!
(someday, someday.) -go on those bouncy things that people jump on and launch you into the lake
-go to the Gilroy Garlic Festival (and try that famed garlic flavored ice cream)
-own a player piano
-make my own wine(yes I realize there is already a wine named after me...I still want my own though!)
-learn at least one song on the accordion (my inspiration):
-
-
-
I'm sure I'll more to add down the line. Till then...
"it's a Hugo Boss scent...as recommended by a homosexual!"
-BS
8/13/09
4 years of schooling and a bachelor's degree, and all I got was this lousy credit card debt.
I've decided to take a break from my recent downer blogposts as of late (thank you for all your sympathy, though), and want to address something that won't make people react with a gasp, an "oh my," or a "I'm so sorry."
August 4th marked the one-year anniversary of the day that I began work at the City of Santa Monica. Yeah yeah, big deal, right? I don't even work there anymore. What makes this so commemorative?
It's sorta the anniversary of the day I began life in the real world. No more obligations to college coursework, 40 hour work weeks and my very first invite to join the company softball team and an invite to the company picnic (what a frightening thought). I addressed my excitement that day with a celebratory blogpost, and with that in mind, I have to take a look at where I am now:
I've got 31 cents in my bank account and I'm unemployed.
So to play off of UCLA's signature catchphrase:
They do more than pass around debt around here. They create it.
"you know how people have a gaydar? well I have a hoe-dar!"
-heard on the streets of Westwood
August 4th marked the one-year anniversary of the day that I began work at the City of Santa Monica. Yeah yeah, big deal, right? I don't even work there anymore. What makes this so commemorative?
It's sorta the anniversary of the day I began life in the real world. No more obligations to college coursework, 40 hour work weeks and my very first invite to join the company softball team and an invite to the company picnic (what a frightening thought). I addressed my excitement that day with a celebratory blogpost, and with that in mind, I have to take a look at where I am now:
I've got 31 cents in my bank account and I'm unemployed.
So to play off of UCLA's signature catchphrase:
They do more than pass around debt around here. They create it.
"you know how people have a gaydar? well I have a hoe-dar!"
-heard on the streets of Westwood
8/9/09
probably one of the saddest things I've witnessed as of late...
The child arrived at the cemetery, mildly unaware of the events that were unfolding around her. The white hearse arrives, and a group of 6 men gather around the back to lift the casket out.
"What are they doing?" she tugs at her mother.
"They're helping Grandma."
"Why? What's wrong wih Grandma? Is she sick?"
---
There he was, a sufferer of dementia, Alzheimer's, whatever you want to call it. Little did he know, but he was sitting at the funeral service of his late wife, recently passed away the week before. His immediate and extended family surrounded the open casket, children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, cousins...
He turned to one of his kids, and asked, "Where's your mother?"
---
"how am I doing? well I'm still kicking. just not very high."
-MdG
"What are they doing?" she tugs at her mother.
"They're helping Grandma."
"Why? What's wrong wih Grandma? Is she sick?"
---
There he was, a sufferer of dementia, Alzheimer's, whatever you want to call it. Little did he know, but he was sitting at the funeral service of his late wife, recently passed away the week before. His immediate and extended family surrounded the open casket, children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, cousins...
He turned to one of his kids, and asked, "Where's your mother?"
---
"how am I doing? well I'm still kicking. just not very high."
-MdG
8/5/09
the worst part about getting older
Maria Concepcion (Conching) Cuaresma Eugenio
September 23, 1920 - July 27, 2009
Maria Concepcion Cuaresma Eugenio passed away, at the age of 88, on July 27, 2009. She is a gentle, compassionate, dignified soul, and the heart and center of her family. Born on September 23, 1920 in Bacnotan, La Union, Philippines. Youngest daughter of the late Vicente Cuaresma and Inez Hernandez. Beloved wife of Pablo Eugenio. Loving mother of Edna (husband Frank deceased), Virginia, William, Jimmy (Riza), Reynold (Saira) and Victoria. Adored grandmother of Edward, JP (deceased), Diogenes, Gretchen, Angelina, Jeremiah, Erika, Jeziel, Josten, Christina, Jordan, Amethyst and Spencer. Cherished great-grandmother of Jaiden, Alex, Jeremiah, Fantaezha, Gabrielle and Jimel. Survived by many nephews, nieces, relatives, extended family and friends. Mary earned a bachelor of science degree in education from National Teacher's College in Manila, Philippines. Finished her graduate studies at Camiling Colleges with masters degree in elementary education. A teacher at Sinilian Second, Bilad and Cacamilingan Central Elementary Schools. She Immigrated to San Francisco in 1973. She traveled to different parts of the world; enjoyed Europe the most. She took cruises to the Caribbean, Alaska, Mexico, and other ports. She cheered for her SF Giants and was a SF49er faithful. She was very proud of her loving Jai-Jai, her loyal cat and companion. She also loved the company of her close friends and comadres, often attending various senior citizens' social functions. Mary will be greatly missed by her loving family and friends Friends may visit Wed., August 5, 2009 4-9pm, and are invited to attend a Vigil Service Thur., 7pm at DUGGAN'S SERRA MORTUARY, 500 Westlake Ave., Daly City. Funeral Mass will be celebrated Fri., 10:30am at St. Andrews Church, 1571 Southgate Ave., Daly City (Sullivan and Southgate). Committal Service at Holy Cross Cemetery, Colma.
---
You will be missed, Grandma Conching.
7/31/09
laban
I'm not what you'd call a typical Filipino.
In fact, I tend to distance myself from anything that will make me seem "too Filipino."
Although that may seem quite the contrary to some people who know me (I do realize that I was semi-kinda involved in the Fil-Am community at UCLA and that I've mostly dated Filipinas), it's an issue I've been forced to deal with, given my background and the history of my family here in the States.
You see, my grandfather was the first of my family to immigrate from the Philippines in the 1930s, wherein later he brought my grandmother from the P.I. and had my dad in the 50s. My grandfather, 50 at the time and well assimilated into U.S. culture decided not to teach him our native language. My mother immigrated to the States in 1971, at the age of 14, and never returned to the country until a vacation we took in 2008, 37 years later. She can still speak the language, but given my dad's lack of knowledge of it, it was never passed down to me. By the time I was born and raised, my parents were far removed from the movement that was uprising in the country of their heritage.
So when I read news earlier that Corazon Aquino, the head of the "People Power Movement" that ousted a dictator and restored democracy to the Philippines in the 1980s, I'll have to admit, I had no idea what exactly every Filipino I know on twitter was talking about. It was the first I've ever heard her name.
Now, you see, many people I know who are of Filipino descent had parents who immigrated to the United States during this tumultuous time in the country, later having their kids and raising them here in the States. With the civil unrest still fresh on their minds, I'm sure they made sure to raise their kids with a deep appreciation for "Tita Cory" and all that she had done for the country.
Not me, however. Like I mentioned earlier, being far-removed from the political uprisings and the regime changes, my parents were not directly affected by all of this, and therefore never taught me or informed me of the significance of these events, of the struggle. So how could I truly appreciate it?
The same could be said about knowing the language. Many 2nd generation Filipinos my age have had some sort of exposure to our language in the home, and if they don't speak it already, at least understand enough to know what someone is saying. Me? Quite the contrary. You're looking at a 3rd generation baby right here, if it wasn't spoken to my dad in the home, why would it be spoken to me?
I'm not mad at my parents for any of this. Things like this are truly out of our control, and I hold no qualms against anyone on the issue. But I'm not going to pretend like it hasn't caused me at least some trouble while growing up.
Too many times, I've felt like I was never "Filipino enough" when around people who shared my heritage. I was always out of the loop when my Filipino friends would emulate a perfect Filipino accent or talk about karaoke at family parties (something I only really started experiencing after my parents purchased a magic mic). I was often criticized as being a "coconut," (brown on the outside, white on the inside) because of the fact that I didn't know the language (oh so many jokes I will never understand), and it's caused me some trouble in the dating world too (funny stories on that, if you really wanna know). Not being completely in tune with my heritage had led to a general uncomfortableness I felt when I was surrounded by too many Filipinos, an uncomfortableness that was so strong for my cousin as well that she once told me she felt more comfortable around the Black student group than she did with the Filipino one at her college.
I've since gotten over the uncomfortableness, because really, it's not a big issue. It sucked that I was reminded of my lack of cultural heritage knowledge consistently, but having grown up now I see that I shouldn't let it bother me. I'm not one of those people who will join every Fil-Am organization out there just because I'm Filipino in an attempt to compensate for my 'lack of culture' (because really, how can we celebrate diversity by joining a group where everyone comes from the same background?) I choose not to. I normally like to turn a blind eye towards race in general, especially in a world with the first Black U.S. president (though the media should really stop pointing out that fact if we truly want to improve 'race relations.' I have my own opinions on the Henry Louis Gates Jr./Cambridge Police debacle too...but I'll only delve into that if you wanna ask).
And so you now see why I am annoyed, almost offended, when people try to argue that any mistreatment of them is "because I'm brown" or "because I'm Filipino." Stop it. Get over yourself. Get out of your bubble and open your eyes to the fact that there actually are other cultures in the world. You're free to have as much national pride as you'd like, but in saying those things, you are only being a racist yourself. And do you really want to flaunt this truly self-defeating attitude?
And so I say, rest in peace, Corazon Aquino. I understand and realize your contributions to the Philippines and the world, but unfortunately, I will never truly appreciate it as much as many others who share my heritage.
"Oh they're Raider fans? They must be cholos. I mean Mexican. I don't know. I couldn't think of a better word."
-JS
I don't normally like to pigeon-hole my posts to be significant to only one particular group of people, but I'm sure there are some of you out there from different backgrounds who can relate.
In fact, I tend to distance myself from anything that will make me seem "too Filipino."
Although that may seem quite the contrary to some people who know me (I do realize that I was semi-kinda involved in the Fil-Am community at UCLA and that I've mostly dated Filipinas), it's an issue I've been forced to deal with, given my background and the history of my family here in the States.
You see, my grandfather was the first of my family to immigrate from the Philippines in the 1930s, wherein later he brought my grandmother from the P.I. and had my dad in the 50s. My grandfather, 50 at the time and well assimilated into U.S. culture decided not to teach him our native language. My mother immigrated to the States in 1971, at the age of 14, and never returned to the country until a vacation we took in 2008, 37 years later. She can still speak the language, but given my dad's lack of knowledge of it, it was never passed down to me. By the time I was born and raised, my parents were far removed from the movement that was uprising in the country of their heritage.
So when I read news earlier that Corazon Aquino, the head of the "People Power Movement" that ousted a dictator and restored democracy to the Philippines in the 1980s, I'll have to admit, I had no idea what exactly every Filipino I know on twitter was talking about. It was the first I've ever heard her name.
Now, you see, many people I know who are of Filipino descent had parents who immigrated to the United States during this tumultuous time in the country, later having their kids and raising them here in the States. With the civil unrest still fresh on their minds, I'm sure they made sure to raise their kids with a deep appreciation for "Tita Cory" and all that she had done for the country.
Not me, however. Like I mentioned earlier, being far-removed from the political uprisings and the regime changes, my parents were not directly affected by all of this, and therefore never taught me or informed me of the significance of these events, of the struggle. So how could I truly appreciate it?
The same could be said about knowing the language. Many 2nd generation Filipinos my age have had some sort of exposure to our language in the home, and if they don't speak it already, at least understand enough to know what someone is saying. Me? Quite the contrary. You're looking at a 3rd generation baby right here, if it wasn't spoken to my dad in the home, why would it be spoken to me?
I'm not mad at my parents for any of this. Things like this are truly out of our control, and I hold no qualms against anyone on the issue. But I'm not going to pretend like it hasn't caused me at least some trouble while growing up.
Too many times, I've felt like I was never "Filipino enough" when around people who shared my heritage. I was always out of the loop when my Filipino friends would emulate a perfect Filipino accent or talk about karaoke at family parties (something I only really started experiencing after my parents purchased a magic mic). I was often criticized as being a "coconut," (brown on the outside, white on the inside) because of the fact that I didn't know the language (oh so many jokes I will never understand), and it's caused me some trouble in the dating world too (funny stories on that, if you really wanna know). Not being completely in tune with my heritage had led to a general uncomfortableness I felt when I was surrounded by too many Filipinos, an uncomfortableness that was so strong for my cousin as well that she once told me she felt more comfortable around the Black student group than she did with the Filipino one at her college.
I've since gotten over the uncomfortableness, because really, it's not a big issue. It sucked that I was reminded of my lack of cultural heritage knowledge consistently, but having grown up now I see that I shouldn't let it bother me. I'm not one of those people who will join every Fil-Am organization out there just because I'm Filipino in an attempt to compensate for my 'lack of culture' (because really, how can we celebrate diversity by joining a group where everyone comes from the same background?) I choose not to. I normally like to turn a blind eye towards race in general, especially in a world with the first Black U.S. president (though the media should really stop pointing out that fact if we truly want to improve 'race relations.' I have my own opinions on the Henry Louis Gates Jr./Cambridge Police debacle too...but I'll only delve into that if you wanna ask).
And so you now see why I am annoyed, almost offended, when people try to argue that any mistreatment of them is "because I'm brown" or "because I'm Filipino." Stop it. Get over yourself. Get out of your bubble and open your eyes to the fact that there actually are other cultures in the world. You're free to have as much national pride as you'd like, but in saying those things, you are only being a racist yourself. And do you really want to flaunt this truly self-defeating attitude?
And so I say, rest in peace, Corazon Aquino. I understand and realize your contributions to the Philippines and the world, but unfortunately, I will never truly appreciate it as much as many others who share my heritage.
"Oh they're Raider fans? They must be cholos. I mean Mexican. I don't know. I couldn't think of a better word."
-JS
I don't normally like to pigeon-hole my posts to be significant to only one particular group of people, but I'm sure there are some of you out there from different backgrounds who can relate.
7/28/09
indiana jones and the hotel of doom pt. 2
Hey, remember last summer, when I blogged about the "hotel of doom," the Ryugyong Hotel in North Korea? To sum it up, the 105 story building (the World Trade Center was 110 stories, to give perspective) was originally planned to be built in 1989, and would've housed 3,000 hotel rooms, 7 revolving restaurants, and a number of night clubs and casinos. Unfortunately, the country simply ran out of money to continue construction. Even more unfortunate was the fact that it was cheaper to leave the building standing as opposed to tearing it down, so instead they left its empty concrete shell standing for the next 21 or so years, looking something like this:
The building was originally planned to be built out of spite and jealousy towards South Korea, where Seoul had been chosen to host the 1988 Olympics. Clearly, their "me-too!" attitude fell short, and as a result, you have this garguntuan concrete testament of what never was standing over the North Korean capital.
However, in April 2008, some nice construction company named Orascom decided to take on this project, and planned to finally finish construction by 2012. You see, this particular company is responsible for the construction of the Burj Dubai, what would be world's tallest building at bout 800 meters high (that's about 2,600 feet tall, or about half a mile). So, in late 2008, they even started putting windows up:
ehhhh. it kinda looks prettier.
But don't take my word for it.
"I'm just trying to break the Asian-American stereotype. We're not all doctors and lawyers. I'm a car mechanic, I don't own a dry cleaners and I'm not a ninja."
-KK
The building was originally planned to be built out of spite and jealousy towards South Korea, where Seoul had been chosen to host the 1988 Olympics. Clearly, their "me-too!" attitude fell short, and as a result, you have this garguntuan concrete testament of what never was standing over the North Korean capital.
However, in April 2008, some nice construction company named Orascom decided to take on this project, and planned to finally finish construction by 2012. You see, this particular company is responsible for the construction of the Burj Dubai, what would be world's tallest building at bout 800 meters high (that's about 2,600 feet tall, or about half a mile). So, in late 2008, they even started putting windows up:
ehhhh. it kinda looks prettier.
But don't take my word for it.
"I'm just trying to break the Asian-American stereotype. We're not all doctors and lawyers. I'm a car mechanic, I don't own a dry cleaners and I'm not a ninja."
-KK
7/23/09
"You've heard the expression 'Let's get busy'? Well, this is a dog who gets biz-ay; consistently and thoroughly."
Yes, I realize I've been rather taciturn when it's come to blogging this summer, but be fair, folks. I've been biz-ay (consistently and thoroughly). Coming on here to actually write something (and these posts take time!) has been difficult, especially now since I disseminate most of my random quips, anecdotes and news links through the evil that is known as twitter (and thus, why I also changed my layout. whatdya all think?) Time hasn't been on my side the past few weeks, mostly because I've been inundated with this stuff:
No, no, not collector beer glasses. GIS. Geographic Information Systems.
I've been studying this stuff day-in and day-out for the past month, and according to this nifty countdown igoogle widget I installed earlier, as of this moment, I still have 34 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes, and 31 seconds before the end of the program. It's all good though. For the first time since I started college (and this saying alot), I finally feel like I'm learning something practical enough to put into practice in the workplace (and I got to attend the Environmental Systems Research Institute (ESRI) International GIS Users Conference! Now doesn't that sound big and important??) And rather than try and explain what it is I'm learning, I'll just show you:
Yes, essentially what it comes down to is that I'm learning this fancy schmancy program that teaches me to digitally create maps (and I do realize that the last map was a 'Master Plan of the North Pole,' with Santa's workshop and all)
"Mapping? But hasn't the whole world been mapped already?"
Excuse me for a second while I shake my head and ignore the fact that you probably just asked the worst question you could ever ask someone in my field. I'll only say this once: it's not only places that are mapped. Vegetation, urban areas, demographics, density, hell, even cell phone coverage for you kids and your 3G capable smartphones are constantly changing. And what better way to keep track of all these changes except through a map? Somebody's gotta keep track of changing demographics through census data, somebody's gotta update a map if a new skyscraper is built downtown, someone analyzes subway ridership per stop through (you guessed it) a map, and somebody's gotta draw out those guide maps in all those malls (a simplified use of the program, but hey, it still needs to be done).
And so hopefully, within the next 34 days, 10 hours, 45 minutes, and 53 seconds, I'll be able to master all these skills. Considering I'm still unemployed, I've sorta put all my bets in on this program.
Wish me luck!
"the erotic museum...must be a cultural gem around here"
-AR
No, no, not collector beer glasses. GIS. Geographic Information Systems.
I've been studying this stuff day-in and day-out for the past month, and according to this nifty countdown igoogle widget I installed earlier, as of this moment, I still have 34 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes, and 31 seconds before the end of the program. It's all good though. For the first time since I started college (and this saying alot), I finally feel like I'm learning something practical enough to put into practice in the workplace (and I got to attend the Environmental Systems Research Institute (ESRI) International GIS Users Conference! Now doesn't that sound big and important??) And rather than try and explain what it is I'm learning, I'll just show you:
Yes, essentially what it comes down to is that I'm learning this fancy schmancy program that teaches me to digitally create maps (and I do realize that the last map was a 'Master Plan of the North Pole,' with Santa's workshop and all)
"Mapping? But hasn't the whole world been mapped already?"
Excuse me for a second while I shake my head and ignore the fact that you probably just asked the worst question you could ever ask someone in my field. I'll only say this once: it's not only places that are mapped. Vegetation, urban areas, demographics, density, hell, even cell phone coverage for you kids and your 3G capable smartphones are constantly changing. And what better way to keep track of all these changes except through a map? Somebody's gotta keep track of changing demographics through census data, somebody's gotta update a map if a new skyscraper is built downtown, someone analyzes subway ridership per stop through (you guessed it) a map, and somebody's gotta draw out those guide maps in all those malls (a simplified use of the program, but hey, it still needs to be done).
And so hopefully, within the next 34 days, 10 hours, 45 minutes, and 53 seconds, I'll be able to master all these skills. Considering I'm still unemployed, I've sorta put all my bets in on this program.
Wish me luck!
"the erotic museum...must be a cultural gem around here"
-AR
7/8/09
homeslice
I always say I never consider a place called home until I hang my dogs playing poker portrait. And, looking through old pictures from the past 10 years, I see that it actually has rung true. From the moment I purchased the iconic framed picture, it has followed me wherever I find a place to sleep and settle in. For example, here it is in Hayward:
My place on Landfair:
My summer dorm at Rieber Terrace:
My apartment at Veteran:
And finally, at my apartment here in riverside
And so it had me thinking, what is this concept of ‘home?’ I’m no stranger to uprooting myself. My parents moved out of the home I had grown up in right before I started high school and moved out of the region I grew up in my third year in college, leaving me with a floor to sleep on and nowhere to place my shit. Some people say home is where your stuff is, but my stuff has been traveling all over the country and is in 3 difference places at the moment, so I’m not sure what to make of that.
And given that I’d been in college since 2004 (and still taking classes, even after receiving that coveted Bachelor’s degree), where everything is temporary (I blogged about it before), you can see that I’ve had my share of different living situations in the past 5 years. So it had me thinking, what is home for us? I hate to quote a movie like Garden State, starring professional overly sensitive pansy Zach Braff (I still love you in Scrubs!), but there comes a point in everyone’s life where the house you grew up in is no longer your home.
It’s true, leaving home for the first time is sort of a rite of passage, a challenge, a journey for you to grow and thrive and strive to create a sense of home and accomplishment for yourself. And sure, some of us are successful in doing so and may never come back to the place we once called home. Others may eventually go back to the place they left behind to re-establish ties or mend familial and financial obligations or simply to hide away from the real world, sometimes out of choice, other times not.
In the past month, I’ve passed by and visited various places I’ve once called home: Union City, Hayward, Sproul Hall, Rieber Hall, 690 Veteran, Chicago…and it was upon passing these places that I realized that these places were home for me sometime in the past, at a different stage of my life…but no more. And it’s not just cause I sleep on the floor now whenever I visit my family or that I haven’t really settled down somewhere in months, but I’m constantly reminded that unfortunately, I’ve moved on with my life, and so has the rest of the world (totally an overrated concept, by the way).
But that’s the essence of life, right? Change. Sometimes it’s a good thing, it’s something we can believe it. But a lot of times as well it sucks. If something works, why change it, if you’re happy the way you are, why mess with it? I’ve witnessed enough ends of a lot of eras for a lot of people in the past few months to leave me homesick for a place that doesn’t exist anymore.
And so I say this: change is inevitable. Home is a concept, not a place, and it’s up to us to determine whether or not we can accept that.
Your thoughts?
Wow, two completely serious posts in a row. How self-absorbed. Don’t worry folks, I’ll be back to my strange and semi-interesting self when I find the time.
"I came to Haight so I could buy something hip...and I ended up getting something from the GAP"
-AS
My place on Landfair:
My summer dorm at Rieber Terrace:
My apartment at Veteran:
And finally, at my apartment here in riverside
And so it had me thinking, what is this concept of ‘home?’ I’m no stranger to uprooting myself. My parents moved out of the home I had grown up in right before I started high school and moved out of the region I grew up in my third year in college, leaving me with a floor to sleep on and nowhere to place my shit. Some people say home is where your stuff is, but my stuff has been traveling all over the country and is in 3 difference places at the moment, so I’m not sure what to make of that.
And given that I’d been in college since 2004 (and still taking classes, even after receiving that coveted Bachelor’s degree), where everything is temporary (I blogged about it before), you can see that I’ve had my share of different living situations in the past 5 years. So it had me thinking, what is home for us? I hate to quote a movie like Garden State, starring professional overly sensitive pansy Zach Braff (I still love you in Scrubs!), but there comes a point in everyone’s life where the house you grew up in is no longer your home.
It’s true, leaving home for the first time is sort of a rite of passage, a challenge, a journey for you to grow and thrive and strive to create a sense of home and accomplishment for yourself. And sure, some of us are successful in doing so and may never come back to the place we once called home. Others may eventually go back to the place they left behind to re-establish ties or mend familial and financial obligations or simply to hide away from the real world, sometimes out of choice, other times not.
In the past month, I’ve passed by and visited various places I’ve once called home: Union City, Hayward, Sproul Hall, Rieber Hall, 690 Veteran, Chicago…and it was upon passing these places that I realized that these places were home for me sometime in the past, at a different stage of my life…but no more. And it’s not just cause I sleep on the floor now whenever I visit my family or that I haven’t really settled down somewhere in months, but I’m constantly reminded that unfortunately, I’ve moved on with my life, and so has the rest of the world (totally an overrated concept, by the way).
But that’s the essence of life, right? Change. Sometimes it’s a good thing, it’s something we can believe it. But a lot of times as well it sucks. If something works, why change it, if you’re happy the way you are, why mess with it? I’ve witnessed enough ends of a lot of eras for a lot of people in the past few months to leave me homesick for a place that doesn’t exist anymore.
And so I say this: change is inevitable. Home is a concept, not a place, and it’s up to us to determine whether or not we can accept that.
Your thoughts?
Wow, two completely serious posts in a row. How self-absorbed. Don’t worry folks, I’ll be back to my strange and semi-interesting self when I find the time.
"I came to Haight so I could buy something hip...and I ended up getting something from the GAP"
-AS
6/30/09
Chicago
Chicago. The Windy City. City of the Big Shoulders. The City That Works.
True names for a city that is a city in the truest sense of the word. Chicago is a big city, but a small town with its own unique personality. Chicago can influence the world, but can still feel human. It is a city that is friendlier than New York, but more real than Los Angeles. It is a place that is like nowhere else, but will feel like home to those who visit.
There are some who say that cities across the U.S. have become some sort of "urban theme parks." A major U.S. city in today's world is not primarily a place to live and work. It's become a place to visit, to shop, a spectacle, a tourist trap. The people have migrated to the suburbs, and the city itself is just a novelty, a place to come to every now and then, to take their relatives or friends to...residence within the city is left to the elite and the homeless.
Chicago goes beyond that. To quote Bob Greene, "Visitors are welcome, but not necessary." Whether or not a tourist is admiring the way the elevated train tracks snake through the neighborhoods or how "retro" Wrigley Field feels, the city will continue living on. No, those train tracks aren't there to give an 'old-timey' feel to the city, they're there to serve a function. No, Wrigley Field was not designed for the nostalgic, it really truly is from an era that has nearly been forgotten. No, the beaches aren't crowded because simply, "that's the thing to do around here," people here want to enjoy what they have at their fingertips, people want to actively enjoy what their city has to offer them.
Chicago is real in the sense that it actually is authentic. The way the train wheels spark like lightning on a curve on the tracks, the way the weather fluctuates on a scale of 100+ degrees (there's both below zero and triple digit temperatures here) and how citizens prepare for either. None of it is for show. There's no major theme park here, no concerted effort to become something that it isn't. Chicago is, and that's really all that matters to its people.
There are distinct neighborhoods with their distinct residents and their distinct interests and hangouts here. You don't need to impress others to make yourself happy here. You are where you are, and everyone is making a living or having a good time. You don't need $12 to enjoy a beer at a bar with flashing lights to have fun. The night doesn't have to end at 2. You will find your grit, you will find your glamor here. Take out the visitors, take out biggest tourist attractions, and you'll still have a city that lives and breathes and will continue to, regardless of time, season, or neighborhood. That's what makes the Windy City the 'City That Works.'
Chicago. A city in the truest sense of the word.
"No, no, that's refreshing. To hear children playing. It's a nice break from adults bitching."
-The clerk at the impound lot
True names for a city that is a city in the truest sense of the word. Chicago is a big city, but a small town with its own unique personality. Chicago can influence the world, but can still feel human. It is a city that is friendlier than New York, but more real than Los Angeles. It is a place that is like nowhere else, but will feel like home to those who visit.
There are some who say that cities across the U.S. have become some sort of "urban theme parks." A major U.S. city in today's world is not primarily a place to live and work. It's become a place to visit, to shop, a spectacle, a tourist trap. The people have migrated to the suburbs, and the city itself is just a novelty, a place to come to every now and then, to take their relatives or friends to...residence within the city is left to the elite and the homeless.
Chicago goes beyond that. To quote Bob Greene, "Visitors are welcome, but not necessary." Whether or not a tourist is admiring the way the elevated train tracks snake through the neighborhoods or how "retro" Wrigley Field feels, the city will continue living on. No, those train tracks aren't there to give an 'old-timey' feel to the city, they're there to serve a function. No, Wrigley Field was not designed for the nostalgic, it really truly is from an era that has nearly been forgotten. No, the beaches aren't crowded because simply, "that's the thing to do around here," people here want to enjoy what they have at their fingertips, people want to actively enjoy what their city has to offer them.
Chicago is real in the sense that it actually is authentic. The way the train wheels spark like lightning on a curve on the tracks, the way the weather fluctuates on a scale of 100+ degrees (there's both below zero and triple digit temperatures here) and how citizens prepare for either. None of it is for show. There's no major theme park here, no concerted effort to become something that it isn't. Chicago is, and that's really all that matters to its people.
There are distinct neighborhoods with their distinct residents and their distinct interests and hangouts here. You don't need to impress others to make yourself happy here. You are where you are, and everyone is making a living or having a good time. You don't need $12 to enjoy a beer at a bar with flashing lights to have fun. The night doesn't have to end at 2. You will find your grit, you will find your glamor here. Take out the visitors, take out biggest tourist attractions, and you'll still have a city that lives and breathes and will continue to, regardless of time, season, or neighborhood. That's what makes the Windy City the 'City That Works.'
Chicago. A city in the truest sense of the word.
"No, no, that's refreshing. To hear children playing. It's a nice break from adults bitching."
-The clerk at the impound lot
6/8/09
Where are you going, little one?
So my little sister graduated from high school earlier this week. In addition to making me feel hella old, she has also become the youngest in the family to graduate from high school (and without end of the year panics...long story) and finally leave home, effectively making my parents empty nesters. It's a bittersweet moment. I've gotta hand it to my parents though. 30 years of marriage (as of June 16!) and 28 years of kids...somethin like that has got to take a toll on the body. And after all that (the most "aww-worthy" moments highlighted in the above video), it's no wonder they can find solace in a simple iphone app game.
And so, it being graduation season (I've still got a slew to go to next weekend) has made me realize that first: everyone I know decided to graduate on the same year apparently, and second: it's also been a year since I finally walked that stage for the very first time (remember that long story I briefly mentioned earlier?). However, as my monetary restraints keep me from buying everyone I know a graduation gift, the best I could do is impart you recent graduates with the knowledge and advice of things to come from one who has walked your same path before (and this both applies to high school and college graduates):
You're gonna get fatter.
But you're gonna have the time of your life doing so.
"I can tell you're not Dutch!
...because you're not tall!"
-My uncle's friend
5/30/09
Won't someone please think of the children??
I discovered this hell of a time-waster the other night, in which you can take two pictures (preferably a male and a female, for those who wish to 'protect the sanctity of marriage' but I for one am open-minded), and mash em together to make a "baby."
So find a picture of mommy, and find a picture of daddy, and voila, instant baby.
You'd think that if I put my picture as both the mother and the father that the result would be some sort of abomination that would resemble a much younger me.
Naw. I was a much better looking baby than that.
"all my babies end up looking similar on that vw site, no matter who i have boned virtually."
-CT
So find a picture of mommy, and find a picture of daddy, and voila, instant baby.
You'd think that if I put my picture as both the mother and the father that the result would be some sort of abomination that would resemble a much younger me.
Naw. I was a much better looking baby than that.
"all my babies end up looking similar on that vw site, no matter who i have boned virtually."
-CT
5/25/09
"No one has ever complained about their rank getting higher."
Ever google yourself? it's slightly entertaining.
Google searches of my name prove that not only am I the young and dashing author of this blog (narcissism is fun!), but I am also a cosmetic surgeon from Philadelphia, the Principle Designer for the Voodoo business unit, a founding partner of the law firm Coughlin Stoia, a nephrologist in Mount Sinai,NY, 6 feet tall and a cancer, Seattle Police Department's South Precinct Crime Prevention Coordinator, and a failing student at Llanview University on One Life to Live.
Pretty impressive resume. Why hasn't it gotten me a job yet?
Anyways, so I decided to google my username, used variably across AIM, twitter, youtube, and even here. The first few results made sense, links to some of my videos on youtube, a direct link to my twitter profile (blocked to the general public, of course), and various other twitter accounts who hadn't been locked and their @replies to me. The link that really stood out to me was to the website Twitter Grader, which apparently 'grades' twitter accounts based on some set of algorithms or something like that. What really surprised me, though, was the fact that my twitter account was ranked 25th among the "Twitter Elite" in Los Angeles.
WTF?
So of course the most logical reaction is to tweet about it (ha). And only then did I proceed to figure out what makes a 'twitter elite.' According to the website, a user's rank is based upon their "power, reach, and authority," whatever that means. So how do you rank power, reach, and authority? Sifting through their technical jargon on algorithms and whatnot (what the fuck are algorithms again?) the ranking is based on 6 factors: number of followers, power of followers (based on their rankings,) updates, update recency (how often you tweet), follower/following ratio, and engagement (how often are your tweets re-tweeted or replied to?)
And factoring all that into consideration, I apparently have been officially ranked at 380,070 overall. Not bad.
But of course, I'm still not entirely sure how this all came to be. I never signed up for this site or anything related to it in general, and my tweets are even protected. So what gives?
I'm still confused. But this is definitely an ego boost, so I'm not complaining.
"I don't know what he is....but I know want to have sex with him..."
-LN
Google searches of my name prove that not only am I the young and dashing author of this blog (narcissism is fun!), but I am also a cosmetic surgeon from Philadelphia, the Principle Designer for the Voodoo business unit, a founding partner of the law firm Coughlin Stoia, a nephrologist in Mount Sinai,NY, 6 feet tall and a cancer, Seattle Police Department's South Precinct Crime Prevention Coordinator, and a failing student at Llanview University on One Life to Live.
Pretty impressive resume. Why hasn't it gotten me a job yet?
Anyways, so I decided to google my username, used variably across AIM, twitter, youtube, and even here. The first few results made sense, links to some of my videos on youtube, a direct link to my twitter profile (blocked to the general public, of course), and various other twitter accounts who hadn't been locked and their @replies to me. The link that really stood out to me was to the website Twitter Grader, which apparently 'grades' twitter accounts based on some set of algorithms or something like that. What really surprised me, though, was the fact that my twitter account was ranked 25th among the "Twitter Elite" in Los Angeles.
WTF?So of course the most logical reaction is to tweet about it (ha). And only then did I proceed to figure out what makes a 'twitter elite.' According to the website, a user's rank is based upon their "power, reach, and authority," whatever that means. So how do you rank power, reach, and authority? Sifting through their technical jargon on algorithms and whatnot (what the fuck are algorithms again?) the ranking is based on 6 factors: number of followers, power of followers (based on their rankings,) updates, update recency (how often you tweet), follower/following ratio, and engagement (how often are your tweets re-tweeted or replied to?)
And factoring all that into consideration, I apparently have been officially ranked at 380,070 overall. Not bad.
But of course, I'm still not entirely sure how this all came to be. I never signed up for this site or anything related to it in general, and my tweets are even protected. So what gives?
I'm still confused. But this is definitely an ego boost, so I'm not complaining.
"I don't know what he is....but I know want to have sex with him..."
-LN
5/19/09
FAQ Pt. 2
Much like the last FAQ post I made a few months ago, found here, I have found myself on multiple occasions answering the same set of questions, sometimes even in the same order. This time around, it's not about why I'm leaving LA or what I'm gonna be doing in Chicago. It's more like why I left LA and what I'm doing in Chicago.
This is just the kind of attention I expected to get from locals here in Chi-Town, being from half a world away from this place to begin with. And much like last time, whenever I do meet someone here, you'd be surprised at how often these questions actually come up and how similar my conversations go.
Upon mentioning that I'm a newbie to Chicago...
You’re from where?
California
Wow, that’s awesome. Where in California are you from?
Originally from the area around San Francisco, but I went to school and lived in LA for the past 5 years.
That’s cool. So what are you doing now?
I’m a student. At DePaul.
Oh really? Wow. What are you studying there?
Geographic information systems
What?
Um…urban planning.
What? Oh…(confusion)…how do you like it?
Well I like it enough to study it, right? Yeah?
Yeah?? Haha
(courtesy laugh) haha.
…
So why’d you decide to come out here? Or
Why Chicago of all places? Or why did you decide to come to snowy Chicago from sunny California?
Well I have family I’m staying with. And I needed a change of scenery.
Makes sense…I guess. How long have you been here now?
Since the beginning of April
Oh so you haven’t experienced a real winter here yet
Uh, nope. Should I be worried?
From California ,right?
Yup.
You’re gonna freeze.
Terrific. Yeah just the other day there was a tornado warning, right?
Yeah yeah, we get those all the time.
But the next day it was all sunny again
Yeah that sort of thing happens here. Real seasons.
I guess so.
So you’re from San Francisco, right?
Well, around there.
It’s beautiful there.
Yup, it sure is.
You must know your wines.
Er, sort of?
Ya know, being from California and all.
I guess?
Well, welcome to the Midwest. We do things here a little differently, ya know.
Yeah I can tell.
You like it here better? Or LA?
Well things are certainly different...
Different like how?
Well the pace of things are different. I mean, out in LA everyone’s way too busy with themselves and things are just so damn fast paced...
So we’re a little slower out here, you’re saying?
No, no, no of course not, that’s not what I meant. I mean, every city has their own culture (phew, good save)
Yeah, that is true.
Let’s just say that for the most part, I'm glad I came out here...
"God, white people are so mean and they make me so mad sometimes! But it's okay Daddy, you're pink..."
-ZO
This is just the kind of attention I expected to get from locals here in Chi-Town, being from half a world away from this place to begin with. And much like last time, whenever I do meet someone here, you'd be surprised at how often these questions actually come up and how similar my conversations go.
Upon mentioning that I'm a newbie to Chicago...
You’re from where?
California
Wow, that’s awesome. Where in California are you from?
Originally from the area around San Francisco, but I went to school and lived in LA for the past 5 years.
That’s cool. So what are you doing now?
I’m a student. At DePaul.
Oh really? Wow. What are you studying there?
Geographic information systems
What?
Um…urban planning.
What? Oh…(confusion)…how do you like it?
Well I like it enough to study it, right? Yeah?
Yeah?? Haha
(courtesy laugh) haha.
…
So why’d you decide to come out here? Or
Why Chicago of all places? Or why did you decide to come to snowy Chicago from sunny California?
Well I have family I’m staying with. And I needed a change of scenery.
Makes sense…I guess. How long have you been here now?
Since the beginning of April
Oh so you haven’t experienced a real winter here yet
Uh, nope. Should I be worried?
From California ,right?
Yup.
You’re gonna freeze.
Terrific. Yeah just the other day there was a tornado warning, right?
Yeah yeah, we get those all the time.
But the next day it was all sunny again
Yeah that sort of thing happens here. Real seasons.
I guess so.
So you’re from San Francisco, right?
Well, around there.
It’s beautiful there.
Yup, it sure is.
You must know your wines.
Er, sort of?
Ya know, being from California and all.
I guess?
Well, welcome to the Midwest. We do things here a little differently, ya know.
Yeah I can tell.
You like it here better? Or LA?
Well things are certainly different...
Different like how?
Well the pace of things are different. I mean, out in LA everyone’s way too busy with themselves and things are just so damn fast paced...
So we’re a little slower out here, you’re saying?
No, no, no of course not, that’s not what I meant. I mean, every city has their own culture (phew, good save)
Yeah, that is true.
Let’s just say that for the most part, I'm glad I came out here...
"God, white people are so mean and they make me so mad sometimes! But it's okay Daddy, you're pink..."
-ZO
5/10/09
...That's where I'm a viking!
So I emerged from the basement today with a tinge of hunger and an urge to go to the bathroom (the only two reasons I ever leave the basement nowadays). Often I find myself sickened at how many hours I can spend down here staring at two screens (the laptop and the TV).
What I saw was a strange sight. My uncle, my aunt, and my little cousin each had a laptop. My aunt and uncle on the couch and my little cousin at the kitchen table. Everyone was in the same room and within inches of each other, but not a word was spoken. Nothing but blank stares into oblivion. I walked past the kitchen, mouthed an "okaaay" to myself, and descended back into the basement where I stopped feeling so bad about trapping myself down here and being on the computer so much.
Welcome to the reality of today's modern family!
"tell her to find a job as a teacher here in Chicago! there's enough black people here."
-MO
What I saw was a strange sight. My uncle, my aunt, and my little cousin each had a laptop. My aunt and uncle on the couch and my little cousin at the kitchen table. Everyone was in the same room and within inches of each other, but not a word was spoken. Nothing but blank stares into oblivion. I walked past the kitchen, mouthed an "okaaay" to myself, and descended back into the basement where I stopped feeling so bad about trapping myself down here and being on the computer so much.
Welcome to the reality of today's modern family!
"tell her to find a job as a teacher here in Chicago! there's enough black people here."
-MO
5/3/09
"You're really experiencing life!" "Yeah, life and strange middle America"
Sorry for the hiatus folks, but in addition to being busy as hell in the past 2 weeks, I’ve also lacked motivation to even type anything up. But I’m back. And I owe it to you all, I know people have checked my blog out a lot in the past week.
But seriously, so much has happened since I (didn’t) celebrate 42o (no really, I didn’t. I lacked the desire to as well as the means). After making my first foray back home since I moved out here (and pulling off one hell of a surprise…one that’s definitely going in my top 5 successful surprises), I found my way around the whole state of California, and later in Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, and eventually Chicago again, all within a matter of 5 days. In a matter of 6 days, I woke up in 6 different beds, 2 of them at motels and one of them being a floor. I managed to get two parking tickets within less than 24 hours in LA, and a speeding ticket in Nevada. And it was all for the sake of fetching my car from home?
Well that. And of course to see the world I left behind since I left on that midnight train to Chicago (woo woo!) And though I will admit I’ve had my mild freakouts here involving issues of jobs, money, friends, and reasons to even stay here (or really, a lack thereof of all of the above), and I will also admit I’ve had my regrets about this whole relocating thing to begin with…I’d have to say that I think I understand more about what drove me to do it all in the first place and why it’s a good thing I’m on this spiritual journey of some sort.
I told my aunt one night that I was questioning why it was that I left California in the first place. I had a good job, my own apartment, good friends…I was admitting I was getting homesick (and watching a special on HBO about Manny Pacquiao that showed him wearing a UCLA beanie, running up the hill to the Griffifth Observatory with the Hollywood Sign behind him didn’t help). And it wasn’t until I came back last week, saw all my family and friends and my old apartment and my nephew, Julian (the cat) and my old hood, the wood in the west, paying $12 to play pool and eating pho at 3am did I realize something. Although I could’ve easily continued my daily 8-5 grind no struggles to pay the bills or rent lifestyle, by voluntarily pulling myself out (t.w.s.s.) of that routine, I gained something a stable paycheck could never give me: perspective.
It’s true when they say you never know what you had till you’ve lost it. And no, I’m not going to turn this into some preachy post about how we have to appreciate what we have, but it’s different to have something or someone forced away from you versus forcing yourself away from what you have. There’s a certain sense of appreciation you learn when you’re away from the life you’ve built yourself around, so there’s no sense in being afraid of changing (but time makes you bolder, children get older…)
Yes, I am going to say it. I miss home. I miss LA (you happy @letiziat? I admitted it). And I miss a hell of a lot of people. But it’s all a part of the inevitable change we will have to make eventually, constantly throughout our whole lives. We are all constantly building lives and starting over, only to build another life that will eventually have to change anyway. And who knows when or where you’ll be starting over next? I knew it was going to happen to me sooner or later (but to be perfectly honest, I still have my nights when I think I rushed myself into starting over). But such things can’t be dwelled upon. Otherwise I’ll freak out again.
I suppose now would be a good time to start the standard not so serious half of the post. So as I mentioned before, I traveled across the country again, this time by car as opposed to train. Which, by the way, is infinitely more irritating. On the bright side, I was able to see more of strange middle America, and even got to add another state to my ever-growing list of states I’ve seen but will never return to (Wyoming sucks, FYI!).
Let me put this into perspective: the state of Wyoming has a population of around 509,000. The city of San Jose, CA has a population of about 940,000. Needless to say, the drive through did not elicit any exciting responses from me or my cousin:
Story of our trip
Yah, that picture pretty much sums up everything we saw. And I guess a few more won’t hurt though
Why else Wyoming sucks
Who or what is Weird Wally?
We fly high, no lie, you know this...
This is where you go to fill up. You sure you got this thing right, Iowa?
Glad we finally made it back to civilization, I figured I should take my cousins out to discover the beauty that is Chicago Style Pizza. And so we visited one of the “Big Three” pizzerias, Giordano’s (the other two are Pizzeria Uno and Lou Malnati’s. All 3 claim to be best pizza in town, but the debates will never end).
What was best about this pizza was not just the fact that it’s a huge deep dish stuffed pizza, or the fact that nontraditional pizza sauce being the only topping (the actual ‘toppings’ are what’s being stuffed. In this case, sausage, mushroom, and garlic), or the fact that it’s overrun with cheese…it was that it all worked together. Definitely decent by my taste.
You want some of this? You've gotta visit me first.
"where's your hubcaps? you must not be into cars"
-the guy at Arco
But seriously, so much has happened since I (didn’t) celebrate 42o (no really, I didn’t. I lacked the desire to as well as the means). After making my first foray back home since I moved out here (and pulling off one hell of a surprise…one that’s definitely going in my top 5 successful surprises), I found my way around the whole state of California, and later in Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, and eventually Chicago again, all within a matter of 5 days. In a matter of 6 days, I woke up in 6 different beds, 2 of them at motels and one of them being a floor. I managed to get two parking tickets within less than 24 hours in LA, and a speeding ticket in Nevada. And it was all for the sake of fetching my car from home?
Well that. And of course to see the world I left behind since I left on that midnight train to Chicago (woo woo!) And though I will admit I’ve had my mild freakouts here involving issues of jobs, money, friends, and reasons to even stay here (or really, a lack thereof of all of the above), and I will also admit I’ve had my regrets about this whole relocating thing to begin with…I’d have to say that I think I understand more about what drove me to do it all in the first place and why it’s a good thing I’m on this spiritual journey of some sort.
I told my aunt one night that I was questioning why it was that I left California in the first place. I had a good job, my own apartment, good friends…I was admitting I was getting homesick (and watching a special on HBO about Manny Pacquiao that showed him wearing a UCLA beanie, running up the hill to the Griffifth Observatory with the Hollywood Sign behind him didn’t help). And it wasn’t until I came back last week, saw all my family and friends and my old apartment and my nephew, Julian (the cat) and my old hood, the wood in the west, paying $12 to play pool and eating pho at 3am did I realize something. Although I could’ve easily continued my daily 8-5 grind no struggles to pay the bills or rent lifestyle, by voluntarily pulling myself out (t.w.s.s.) of that routine, I gained something a stable paycheck could never give me: perspective.
It’s true when they say you never know what you had till you’ve lost it. And no, I’m not going to turn this into some preachy post about how we have to appreciate what we have, but it’s different to have something or someone forced away from you versus forcing yourself away from what you have. There’s a certain sense of appreciation you learn when you’re away from the life you’ve built yourself around, so there’s no sense in being afraid of changing (but time makes you bolder, children get older…)
Yes, I am going to say it. I miss home. I miss LA (you happy @letiziat? I admitted it). And I miss a hell of a lot of people. But it’s all a part of the inevitable change we will have to make eventually, constantly throughout our whole lives. We are all constantly building lives and starting over, only to build another life that will eventually have to change anyway. And who knows when or where you’ll be starting over next? I knew it was going to happen to me sooner or later (but to be perfectly honest, I still have my nights when I think I rushed myself into starting over). But such things can’t be dwelled upon. Otherwise I’ll freak out again.
I suppose now would be a good time to start the standard not so serious half of the post. So as I mentioned before, I traveled across the country again, this time by car as opposed to train. Which, by the way, is infinitely more irritating. On the bright side, I was able to see more of strange middle America, and even got to add another state to my ever-growing list of states I’ve seen but will never return to (Wyoming sucks, FYI!).
Let me put this into perspective: the state of Wyoming has a population of around 509,000. The city of San Jose, CA has a population of about 940,000. Needless to say, the drive through did not elicit any exciting responses from me or my cousin:
Story of our trip
Yah, that picture pretty much sums up everything we saw. And I guess a few more won’t hurt though
Why else Wyoming sucks
Who or what is Weird Wally?
We fly high, no lie, you know this...
This is where you go to fill up. You sure you got this thing right, Iowa? Glad we finally made it back to civilization, I figured I should take my cousins out to discover the beauty that is Chicago Style Pizza. And so we visited one of the “Big Three” pizzerias, Giordano’s (the other two are Pizzeria Uno and Lou Malnati’s. All 3 claim to be best pizza in town, but the debates will never end).
What was best about this pizza was not just the fact that it’s a huge deep dish stuffed pizza, or the fact that nontraditional pizza sauce being the only topping (the actual ‘toppings’ are what’s being stuffed. In this case, sausage, mushroom, and garlic), or the fact that it’s overrun with cheese…it was that it all worked together. Definitely decent by my taste.
You want some of this? You've gotta visit me first.
"where's your hubcaps? you must not be into cars"
-the guy at Arco
4/20/09
Haaaaa Haaaa Haaaa Haaaa Haaaa
In the spirit of the holidays, the fun starts at 0:59
Happy 42o folks! Feels strange to not be celebrating this year, but that's all a part of growing up, I guess.
"on the bright side, the black people loved it."
-EP
Happy 42o folks! Feels strange to not be celebrating this year, but that's all a part of growing up, I guess.
"on the bright side, the black people loved it."
-EP
4/19/09
Estrellas de Ninjas
So the other day, I read an interesting article about a little town (so aptly named Littleton) in Colorado and an incident that occurred at their local high school, an incident which has spurred a national debate and multiple studies into the psyches of young kids throughout the country. In other words, it changed the world.
Of course I’m talking about Columbine here. And why I decide to touch on subject that really is a decade old (as of today, actually) is because the article made some interesting points. First of all, it aimed to debunk all the myths that had seemingly become common knowledge. The “Trench Coat Mafia,” the supposed ‘gang’ of misfits and disaffected videogamers which the two gunmen were a part of, didn’t exist. Contrary to popular belief, the two shooters had not been bullied to the point where they would get depressed and suicidal and to the point where they wished to lash back violently. In fact, rather, they were the ones who did the bullying. And that story about the girl who was shot because she said “yes” when asked if she believed in God? Didn’t happen.
And if you’re wondering why I decide to bring this up, years later and especially now that it has really disappeared from the public’s mind, it’s that this particular tragedy affected me personally. See, the moment this occurred, a whole new wave of paranoia and fear swept over the nation’s schools and suddenly anyone between the age of 12 and17 were potential suicidal murderers, prepared to wreak havoc on school grounds. Well, not anyone. Just those who played video games all the time and didn’t really fit in. Pretty much me and my friends in 8th grade. It was played out over the media that it was video games to blame for the incident, it was the fact that these kids were bullied, it’s the fact that these kids were loners. Keep on eye on them! Be nice to them! They’re the dangerous ones! And the moment they give you a dirty look, alert the authorities!
And of course, people did get fucking scared.
One year later takes us to this Catholic school in a suburb somewhere east of the San Francisco Bay. Some kid in the 8th grade class, who really was classified as a “misfit” (actually I recall a friend of mine telling me back in 8th grade to not worry, I’ll be popular in high school) decides to bring some pieces of metal shaped in the form of stars to school. Ninja stars, if you will (but really, they were from Mexico. So were they really…minja stars?) To put a long story short, this seemingly disaffected misfit (who really wouldn’t try to hurt anyone. He was just a geek who liked playing Final Fantasy) made a lot of kids in his class feel “threatened,” and with Columbine fresh on everyone’s minds, authorities were alerted.
They called me into the office. They told me to bring my backpack so they could search it. There was a chubby police officer there waiting with his arms crossed. And they searched my bag and found those estrellas de ninjas. The police officer carefully dropped them into a bag marked “evidence.”
In a perfect world, they told me, things could go back to normal. But the world is a cold, cold place, and they told me not to come back to school. It was a month and a half before the end of 8th grade, I was accepted to the local Catholic High School too, I was the top of my class. And they told me they didn’t want to see me back on the property, else police action will be taken. My acceptance to the high school I had been accepted into had been retracted. I never saw a lot of my friends again.
But at least I got an extra long summer!
As a 13 year old, who wouldn’t have been sorta traumatized by the whole situation? I’ve since gotten over the whole ordeal, but today I’m convinced that if the whole country hadn’t been sucked into this culture of fear and paranoia, the action taken on me wouldn’t have been so harsh and I probably would have been able to finish 8th grade. I was a victim of mass media, and unfortunately at my particular school, an example had to be made.
And to hear 10 years later that perhaps the media blew up the story and made false assumptions about the types of people these sick gunmen were, I can't help but wonder what the fuck would have happened had I not been tagged by the authorities as a "threatening and dangerous loser."
It’s been years since I’ve watched Bowling For Columbine. I don’t entirely remember everything about the movie, and I really think it was more about gun control than anything. M’eh.
And so, since I’ve made the promise to post pictures of the Windy City on here for all those who read my blog and are living out their travel dreams vicariously through me, my next set of pics come from the Hancock building, one of the two (though I think lesser known-the other is the Sears Tower, of course) towers that define the Chicago skyline. Here’s a pic of it for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s the black tower in the distance.
And here it is from below:
So in regular tourist trap fashion, next to the shop that sells the obligatory postcards, t-shirts, and scale models, there’s a special elevator on the bottom floor that will take you all the way up to the observatory on the 95th floor. And also in regular tourist trap fashion, it’ll cost you a cool $15 to ride it.
Being the smart-with-money (read: cheap) guy that I am, I knew there had to be another way up to avoid paying that price. It’s a freakin office building, there’s gotta be other elevators I could ride up. And I did find em. I also embarrassed myself by jumping into an elevator but got totally rejected because I needed a key-card to activate the damn thing. I got lucky on the next elevator I jumped into though:
Ha. So apparently at the top of the Hancock building, there’s a lounge and restaurant which has all the views you would be getting from the observatory anyway…but they’ll serve you food and drinks too! And so, instead of paying $15 for an elevator ticket ride up to the observatory, I paid $9 for a beer at the lounge, and still got the same view. Take that, the system!
The Sears Tower in the distance
The Navy Pier, I talked about it earlier
The Lake Michigan shoreline
There’s something very SimCity-esque about these views. I like it. But it’s also an indication of how flat this whole state seems to be. I kinda miss having hills and mountains.
You see that there? That’s what’s west of Chicago. If you look real closely, you can almost see California.
"I can't finish that. I'm not American"
-OO
Of course I’m talking about Columbine here. And why I decide to touch on subject that really is a decade old (as of today, actually) is because the article made some interesting points. First of all, it aimed to debunk all the myths that had seemingly become common knowledge. The “Trench Coat Mafia,” the supposed ‘gang’ of misfits and disaffected videogamers which the two gunmen were a part of, didn’t exist. Contrary to popular belief, the two shooters had not been bullied to the point where they would get depressed and suicidal and to the point where they wished to lash back violently. In fact, rather, they were the ones who did the bullying. And that story about the girl who was shot because she said “yes” when asked if she believed in God? Didn’t happen.
And if you’re wondering why I decide to bring this up, years later and especially now that it has really disappeared from the public’s mind, it’s that this particular tragedy affected me personally. See, the moment this occurred, a whole new wave of paranoia and fear swept over the nation’s schools and suddenly anyone between the age of 12 and17 were potential suicidal murderers, prepared to wreak havoc on school grounds. Well, not anyone. Just those who played video games all the time and didn’t really fit in. Pretty much me and my friends in 8th grade. It was played out over the media that it was video games to blame for the incident, it was the fact that these kids were bullied, it’s the fact that these kids were loners. Keep on eye on them! Be nice to them! They’re the dangerous ones! And the moment they give you a dirty look, alert the authorities!
And of course, people did get fucking scared.
One year later takes us to this Catholic school in a suburb somewhere east of the San Francisco Bay. Some kid in the 8th grade class, who really was classified as a “misfit” (actually I recall a friend of mine telling me back in 8th grade to not worry, I’ll be popular in high school) decides to bring some pieces of metal shaped in the form of stars to school. Ninja stars, if you will (but really, they were from Mexico. So were they really…minja stars?) To put a long story short, this seemingly disaffected misfit (who really wouldn’t try to hurt anyone. He was just a geek who liked playing Final Fantasy) made a lot of kids in his class feel “threatened,” and with Columbine fresh on everyone’s minds, authorities were alerted.
They called me into the office. They told me to bring my backpack so they could search it. There was a chubby police officer there waiting with his arms crossed. And they searched my bag and found those estrellas de ninjas. The police officer carefully dropped them into a bag marked “evidence.”
In a perfect world, they told me, things could go back to normal. But the world is a cold, cold place, and they told me not to come back to school. It was a month and a half before the end of 8th grade, I was accepted to the local Catholic High School too, I was the top of my class. And they told me they didn’t want to see me back on the property, else police action will be taken. My acceptance to the high school I had been accepted into had been retracted. I never saw a lot of my friends again.
But at least I got an extra long summer!
As a 13 year old, who wouldn’t have been sorta traumatized by the whole situation? I’ve since gotten over the whole ordeal, but today I’m convinced that if the whole country hadn’t been sucked into this culture of fear and paranoia, the action taken on me wouldn’t have been so harsh and I probably would have been able to finish 8th grade. I was a victim of mass media, and unfortunately at my particular school, an example had to be made.
And to hear 10 years later that perhaps the media blew up the story and made false assumptions about the types of people these sick gunmen were, I can't help but wonder what the fuck would have happened had I not been tagged by the authorities as a "threatening and dangerous loser."
It’s been years since I’ve watched Bowling For Columbine. I don’t entirely remember everything about the movie, and I really think it was more about gun control than anything. M’eh.
And so, since I’ve made the promise to post pictures of the Windy City on here for all those who read my blog and are living out their travel dreams vicariously through me, my next set of pics come from the Hancock building, one of the two (though I think lesser known-the other is the Sears Tower, of course) towers that define the Chicago skyline. Here’s a pic of it for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s the black tower in the distance.
And here it is from below:
So in regular tourist trap fashion, next to the shop that sells the obligatory postcards, t-shirts, and scale models, there’s a special elevator on the bottom floor that will take you all the way up to the observatory on the 95th floor. And also in regular tourist trap fashion, it’ll cost you a cool $15 to ride it.
Being the smart-with-money (read: cheap) guy that I am, I knew there had to be another way up to avoid paying that price. It’s a freakin office building, there’s gotta be other elevators I could ride up. And I did find em. I also embarrassed myself by jumping into an elevator but got totally rejected because I needed a key-card to activate the damn thing. I got lucky on the next elevator I jumped into though:
Ha. So apparently at the top of the Hancock building, there’s a lounge and restaurant which has all the views you would be getting from the observatory anyway…but they’ll serve you food and drinks too! And so, instead of paying $15 for an elevator ticket ride up to the observatory, I paid $9 for a beer at the lounge, and still got the same view. Take that, the system!
The Sears Tower in the distance
The Navy Pier, I talked about it earlier
The Lake Michigan shoreline
There’s something very SimCity-esque about these views. I like it. But it’s also an indication of how flat this whole state seems to be. I kinda miss having hills and mountains.
You see that there? That’s what’s west of Chicago. If you look real closely, you can almost see California.
"I can't finish that. I'm not American"
-OO
4/9/09
Diversity Month, Formerly Diversity Day
So, April is apparently “diversity month” here at DePaul University (should I make the faint connection to The Office here?) I’m not entirely sure what that entails or what exactly they’re trying to demonstrate, but hey, if they’re ranked the most diverse school in the nation, then I guess we should celebrate it.
And what better way to celebrate being the most diverse university in the nation than with a cultural food fair?
We be celebrating diversity here yo.
I dunno. I’m not normally one to take the whole people of color thing too seriously, but you can’t help but wonder when looking at this flyer what the hell were they thinking? It’s cool and all if we were in high school, where the confines of your local demographics limits your perception of what a diverse crowd would look like. But this is a freakin university, we’re a little older and mature and worldly (I hope, at least) and to celebrate how diverse we are by the kinds of foods that are available seems very stuff white people like – ish.
But why not check it out. Without friends and a job, I had all the time in the world anyway. So I put on my Thursday best and proceeded to see how the largest Catholic university (25,000 enrolled, FYI) in the world would celebrate its diversity. What I came across was a room lined with science fair-esque poster boards representing over 15 countries of the world from Turkey to Indonesia to Nigeria. Using the magic of the paper cut out and google picture search, visitors could go around the room and learn about the country from which the food they are currently eating came from, in very easy to read paragraphs.
And to top it all off, each country was given a 30 second video slot on stage to showcase the beauty of their country (most people just used the promotional ‘vacation here at ____’ videos though), and were given another 30 seconds to talk about the type of foods and religions and other fun facts that can be found in their native country, all to the background of some ‘traditional’ music and in ‘traditional’ dress (I think I heard the word ‘traditional’ so much today, it’s lost all traditional meaning to me)
I wasn’t exactly sure what surprised me more, how ridiculous this all seemed or whether this was exactly what I expected to see. It was like something out of a bad elementary school presentation. I’d expect this if we were in maybe, 4th grade, but what I witnessed today was a grim reminder that though this may be the 3rd most populous metropolis in the world’s melting pot, I am still in the Midwest.
Just to clear things up.
Perhaps I simply have a different perception of what diversity and culture is, being from the hyper-diverse regions of the Bay Area and Los Angeles. But coming from a university where diversity is celebrated in 3-4 hour long culture shows and large influential student groups, this 2-bit science fair seems like a major step back for us minorities.
But I can’t complain. They gave me free food.
Moving on, my daily attempts to remind myself that I made the right decision to uproot myself completely have led to yet more seeing of sights. Still an outsider here, I of course flocked towards the first place any tourist would go to…the touristy spots.
Navy Pier was one of those spots. In pure tourist pier fashion (I’m looking at you, Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Santa Monica Pier, and Pier 39!) there was the obligatory ferris wheel and carnival games.
Well, except for the fact that neither of those were in service, being that it was a brisk 29 degrees and snowing. Even the restaurants were closed and cut off.
Why, Beer Garden? Why did you have to be closed???
The top of the pier was mostly depressing as well. I suppose this time of year, there aren’t too many visitors, so I guess they didn’t have to cater to anyone, spring break visitors be damned. Bleh. Kinda reminds me of the time I visited Coney Island last March.
man. that was depressing.
It’s also a given that Chicago is definitely a sports town, host to a team from ever major U.S. sport (covering some of them twice). Given that fact, I did what you could call stadium hopping, and visited everywhere from The House That Jordan Built, the United Center:
U.S. Cellular Field, home of your 2005 world champion White Sox:
And historical Wrigley Field, which now, in addition to being the home of the Chicago Cubs, sells discount tires.
And what way to better end my day than by enjoying a nice meal at the fanciest McDonald’s I’ve ever been to.
I don’t usually eat McDonald’s, but I had to see if the food was any different cause of the fancy entrance. It wasn’t.
"I'd rather be a doctor than a vet cause I'd rather see a person die than a cute little animal die."
-KT
And what better way to celebrate being the most diverse university in the nation than with a cultural food fair?
We be celebrating diversity here yo.I dunno. I’m not normally one to take the whole people of color thing too seriously, but you can’t help but wonder when looking at this flyer what the hell were they thinking? It’s cool and all if we were in high school, where the confines of your local demographics limits your perception of what a diverse crowd would look like. But this is a freakin university, we’re a little older and mature and worldly (I hope, at least) and to celebrate how diverse we are by the kinds of foods that are available seems very stuff white people like – ish.
But why not check it out. Without friends and a job, I had all the time in the world anyway. So I put on my Thursday best and proceeded to see how the largest Catholic university (25,000 enrolled, FYI) in the world would celebrate its diversity. What I came across was a room lined with science fair-esque poster boards representing over 15 countries of the world from Turkey to Indonesia to Nigeria. Using the magic of the paper cut out and google picture search, visitors could go around the room and learn about the country from which the food they are currently eating came from, in very easy to read paragraphs.
And to top it all off, each country was given a 30 second video slot on stage to showcase the beauty of their country (most people just used the promotional ‘vacation here at ____’ videos though), and were given another 30 seconds to talk about the type of foods and religions and other fun facts that can be found in their native country, all to the background of some ‘traditional’ music and in ‘traditional’ dress (I think I heard the word ‘traditional’ so much today, it’s lost all traditional meaning to me)
I wasn’t exactly sure what surprised me more, how ridiculous this all seemed or whether this was exactly what I expected to see. It was like something out of a bad elementary school presentation. I’d expect this if we were in maybe, 4th grade, but what I witnessed today was a grim reminder that though this may be the 3rd most populous metropolis in the world’s melting pot, I am still in the Midwest.
Just to clear things up.Perhaps I simply have a different perception of what diversity and culture is, being from the hyper-diverse regions of the Bay Area and Los Angeles. But coming from a university where diversity is celebrated in 3-4 hour long culture shows and large influential student groups, this 2-bit science fair seems like a major step back for us minorities.
But I can’t complain. They gave me free food.
Moving on, my daily attempts to remind myself that I made the right decision to uproot myself completely have led to yet more seeing of sights. Still an outsider here, I of course flocked towards the first place any tourist would go to…the touristy spots.
Navy Pier was one of those spots. In pure tourist pier fashion (I’m looking at you, Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Santa Monica Pier, and Pier 39!) there was the obligatory ferris wheel and carnival games.
Well, except for the fact that neither of those were in service, being that it was a brisk 29 degrees and snowing. Even the restaurants were closed and cut off.
Why, Beer Garden? Why did you have to be closed???The top of the pier was mostly depressing as well. I suppose this time of year, there aren’t too many visitors, so I guess they didn’t have to cater to anyone, spring break visitors be damned. Bleh. Kinda reminds me of the time I visited Coney Island last March.
man. that was depressing.It’s also a given that Chicago is definitely a sports town, host to a team from ever major U.S. sport (covering some of them twice). Given that fact, I did what you could call stadium hopping, and visited everywhere from The House That Jordan Built, the United Center:
U.S. Cellular Field, home of your 2005 world champion White Sox:
And historical Wrigley Field, which now, in addition to being the home of the Chicago Cubs, sells discount tires.
And what way to better end my day than by enjoying a nice meal at the fanciest McDonald’s I’ve ever been to.
I don’t usually eat McDonald’s, but I had to see if the food was any different cause of the fancy entrance. It wasn’t.
"I'd rather be a doctor than a vet cause I'd rather see a person die than a cute little animal die."
-KT
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