40 Years

There's this guy here at work who's retiring today after 40 years with the company. That just blows my mind... how before I was even born, he had already been working for over 17 years. During the next 23 years, I learned to walk, talk, use the potty, read, play piano, drive a car, and craft. I moved from unincorporated Downers Grove to incorporated Downers Grove to Taipei to Darien to Urbana to Champaign back to Darien and now to Palatine. I went through preschool, kindergarten, 1st-6th grade, junior high, high school, and college. All this time, he was in the same place, working at Northrop.

So me and some of the younger people here were talking about how we're always trying to just get through the week, and the weekend always seems so far away. And here's this man who has been through about 2000 of these weeks. I could imagine myself working here for a long time, but 40 years? That's just plain scary. Props to the old guy.

I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing, though, to be doing something for that many years. It reminds me of About Schmidt. When you've been living the same life for so long, and suddenly it all changes at age 65, how do you handle something like that? Man, if I left this job right now after 6 months, I would really miss it, the people and the work and the sense of accomplishment. And we've all seen how Jordan couldn't stay away from basketball after retiring, twice.

On the plus side, there are worse things that can happen to you in life than to experience 40 years of job security, work your way up in a large Fortune 100 corporation, retire with a lot of money, probably vacation and just coast the rest of your days, then leave a respectable inheritance to your kids.

I Put The OVER in Overtime

After about 3 months of working OT, this week I am gonna finally take myself off this schedule. I have been looking forward to this point for a long time, when I get to leave work at 4:30 and go home to a place closer than 10 minutes away.

What to do with this extra time? I don't know yet. Yesterday after work, I went to Jewel to pick up some garlic and oranges. Went home, made rice, a dish of spinach, and microwaved a bowl of beef I brought from home. I make a mean spiznatch, by the way. Anyways, I ate dinner, washed the dishes, and it was not even 6:30 yet. I felt so proud of accomplishing all that by myself, when only a few weeks ago, I would only be just getting home at 6:30.

Next, I watched Everybody Loves Raymond. This is one of those shows I never really watched before but now I wish I did, cause I discovered that it is very entertaining. Up until last week, I had only seen about 3 episodes and it seems like one of the three was always on whenever I happen to catch the show. But anyways, I now think it is one of the funniest sitcoms on TV after watching it a couple times in the past week. Even though all of the people in the show are annoying, it just cracks me up so much.

The only thing is, I would rather shoot myself than be in a marriage like Raymond and his wife. To me, that's like the definition of lifelong misery right there. I don't care if she is attractive for a housewife-aged woman, can you imagine being ripped on by your spouse all the time? And I don't think I have ever seen them even kiss (let alone anything else), instead he is always saying stuff like "don't worry honey, I won't bother you for sex tonight." I mean, that's hilarious to watch, but it wouldn't be so funny if that was me. That's not what I picture a happy marriage to be.

I guess it's partly a reminder to me that love is more important than looks. This coming from a guy that has Britney Spears stickers in his wallet. But seriously, I don't wanna marry her, I just wanna admire her from afar. haha...

Maybe I will write a more in-depth blog about love vs. looks sometime, but I had a different plan for this blog so that will have to wait. Since I have 2-3 extra non-work, non-sleep hours in the day now, I'm gonna list some goals I would like to accomplish with this gift of time.

1. Learn to cook - I routinely mess up fried rice and boiling eggs, so this could be tough. I don't expect to be Iron Chef Chen, but it would be nice if I knew at least a few more dishes. In this day and age, I don't think guys can really count on the girlfriend or wife to cook anymore. Simply not gonna happen, so get used to it. It's good for me to be more self-sufficient anyways. But yeah, the first step should come later this week, when I will pick up a book at Barnes to get me started.

2. Get a telescope and learn about stars and shiznit - Except for a couple of my nicer friends, almost everyone I know either looked at me funny or flat out called me a nerd when I told them I wanted to do this. So SCREW YOU ALL. I'm getting a tizzelescope, and looking at frickin stars. I was gonna do it alone anyways. I already have the vision in my mind: open up the big window of my room on a clear summer night, put some Chopin on in the background, lose myself in the craters of the moon, engaged in deep thought and personal discovery. All you haters will be missing out.

3. Watch Godfather movies - I have wanted to watch Godfather for the longest time. Haven't seen it before, but I liked Goodfellas and Casino, and I'm sure the Godfather series is even better than those. You might even say they are the "godfather" of all mafia drama movies (yeah, I'm so clever). Well, Brian has them on video and I will have to make time to watch them in the coming weeks. After that, maybe the Sopranos. Then, possibly 24 or Sex and the City. Also The Natural and Field of Dreams. While we're at it, why not Major League? Caddyshack sounds good too. There's too much stuff I haven't seen.

4. Get Pocket PC - I talked about the Toshiba e750 about a month ago, well, now I'm waiting either for the price to come down a little, or rebates to be offered, or maybe newer and cooler models to come out. There are rumors of a new HP IPaq model to be released soon. But definitely, within another month, I want to pick one up. There's so many things I think I could use it for, that I won't bother to list them all here. Basically, they are all nerdy purposes anyways so there's no point in feeding my nerd-image. We'll see whose productivity will be skyrocketed in a few months, and who will be laughing then. muahahaaha

5. Spend at least one night/week at the library - Last week, my favorite Palatine-native Cindy showed me around the Palatine Library. I was seriously in awe. I mean, Indian Prairie Public Library at Darien was pretty nice, but there's just no comparison. This place has an underground parking deck. The magazine section and video section are huge, not to mention computers everywhere. I even saw Mech Chick there, the obsession of Master P's college freshman year (which faded later on). I can't wait until I get two things in writing with my name and Palatine address on them so I can apply for my library card. Then not only will I be able to borrow books, but I could also use my pickup line on Olivia: "Good thing I got my library card, cause I'm CHECKING YOU OUT!!" Yes, she'll love that one.

6. Organize a game of softball - This is one of the things I miss most from school last year. Getting a bunch of us together, going to an open field, and just playing for a couple hours. Using folded up 24-pack beer cases as the bases, hitting until the ball unraveled and then driving with Chras to Dick's Sporting Goods to buy another one. Hopefully we can pull at least one game together sometime soon, and multiple games to follow in the summer months.

7. Find Sean Paul and kick his ass - I hate that song. Maybe it's partly because I understand zero words in it, but it's just annoying. The only good part is the little kid dancing in the video, but that's only like 10 seconds.

*****

Nobody knew the origin of the quote from my blog about my computer: "Why you gotta be wastin my flava?!" Interestingly enough, I saw this movie on TV last night as VH1's "Movies That Rock". For those that might be wondering, it was said by Kenny (Special K) in "Can't Hardly Wait".

Lately I've been reading a lot of blogs by people who are graduating this May. It's gives me a weird feeling because exactly one year ago, that was me. Realizing things like "I have 13 more days of class" and "This could be the last final I take, EVER", it really doesn't seem like that long ago when I went through those phases.

And when I talk to people who are about to graduate next month, I never know what to say to them. I wish I had some great advice to offer, or experiences to share about post-college life, but I guess I'm still kind of wandering myself. Even though it's been 11 months, and in these 11 months I've started working full-time and moved out on my own, I don't know if it's ever sunk in that I'm done with school. You might even say that a large part of me still feels like he lives in room 312 at Green Balconies.

So if you are reading this and happen to be graduating in May, don't expect any awesome advice from me about "the real world". But I will say congrats and welcome to our post-college community. Join us in our cool club of fun.

My Computer - Memoirs

Rewind to freshman year of college:

Andy and I arrive at FAR on a cool, brisk day in August. Books in one hand, pencils and calculator in the other, both of us ready and excited for the coming 4 years of hardcore learning. Other possessions accompanying us from home: my 27" TV and Nintendo 64 (in case there was time left over after class and studying), his fridge, VCR, and videos - The Usual Suspects (for people to come over and fall asleep through it halfway), Titanic (for the ladies), and Basic Instinct with Special Features (for Andy).

But the focus of any guy's dorm room, no matter how big the TV or how loud the stereo, is the computer. A room without a computer is like a chicken without a head - lost in no man's land, and pretty much useless. It is your connection to the Internet, your source of mp3s, your connection to AOL and telnet email, and most importantly of all, home to the greatest video game of them all: Starcraft.

Unfortunately, that particular computer was already on its dying legs by the time we got to school. Music would skip if you tried running any other programs at the same time. The screen would freeze for no reason. And my battle.net homies got pretty used to seeing the popup screen:

"Waiting for players:
[] Dudo~509~
0:45 ... 0:33 ... 0:27 ..."

So I took my lumps and suffered through that piece of crap for a whole school year. Not letting me telnet to students.uiuc.edu was one thing, and I guess I could deal with losing my ECE Mallard homework once in a while to a random system freeze. But it was getting to the point where my crafting was being hampered. Many times I would cry out to the comp in frustration, "damn, why you gotta be wasting my flava?" (anyone know where that quote is from?). For there are few things that irk a man more than the presence of lag, especially when he is engaged in craft among the stars.

Fast forward to sophomore year:

I arrive at ISR with Anuj. It is a sunny afternoon. All our belongings, 27" TV included, are mashed into the backseat or trunk of his '92 Toyota Corolla. I step to the front desk with excitement, and let out a yelp of glee as the desk chick (*not the fabled "ISR desk chick" of Poongbunkorian lore) informs me of 2 large Dell boxes with my name on it.

I quickly signed for the packages, and brought them to my room. Set up my 17" monitor, speakers with subwoofer, and the smooth cream-skinned tower of power on the desk, and took a step back to admire its beauty. It was love at first sight.

What followed were some of the best years of my life. Filled with many joyous moments, skip-free music, multiple windows of ESPN.com GameCast open, downloading of all the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears videos I wanted, and of course, lag-less craft on top of everything else.

Over the years, I took good care of my baby, and she took good care of me. When the 13.6 GB hard drive was getting cramped, I got her a 40 GB addition. When the 128 MB of RAM was not cutting it, I upped the number to 320. She wanted a CD burner to keep up with her friends, and I gladly obliged. Whenever she started to get a little too chubby around the registry, I made sure to give her the best lipo action possible, with a clean format and upgrade to Windows 2000. But through it all, the trusty Intel PIII-550 processor and motherboard stayed true.

Fast forward again, to Summer 2002:

My baby starts to show her age. Faster and better processors now dominate the market. My 17" CRT monitor, once the king of computer displays, burns out, perhaps caving under the pressure. The pressure of being constantly compared not only to the larger 19 and 20 inchers, but the new flashy flat-panel LCDs as well. Meanwhile, the dreaded Starcraft lag lurks in the shadows, rearing its ugly head whenever I try to run too many programs or fail to reboot regularly enough.

Still, I pressed on. For I am not a man akin to coldly ditch a loved one, simply when times get rough. But time is a silent killer that shows no mercy. Unlike me, my computer doesn't get better, sexier, or more refined with age; it only gets worse. And now, it appears to be breathing its final breaths.

It's a tough pill to swallow, when someone you care so deeply about is ready to pass on. No matter how hard you try to resist and hang on tight, the waves of change are far too forceful and cannot be deterred for long. As I tried to play the special features of the Crossroads DVD last night and was greeted by a screen of jumbled characters and graphics, words could not describe the feelings inside me.

Though I hid it well, for the sake of onlookers, an overwhelming sense of panic came over me as I realized the extent of this loss. I reset the computer - twice - with no response. Eventually the soft, deep blue eyes of my Dell Dimension would reopen, bringing a huge sigh of relief, but irreparable damage had already been done. For I now realized that those eyes would not stay open forever, as I had once hoped. Try as I might, there could be no denying the fact that her time was short and finite.

So I sit and wait, surrounded by uncertainty so strong it is virtually palpable. My baby is still with me for now, but for how long? When will the next attack of system failure come, and will she survive it? What will I do once she is gone for good? And will I ever be able to find the same solace and tender love in the arms of another?

The questions are many, the answers are few. Such goes the way of life, I suppose. As one journeys along in the quest for answers, he encounters far more questions than he ever anticipated. Perhaps we are not meant to know certain things - the truth is hidden from us and revealed only when the time is right. Still, I persist. I shall continue to travel this road, until I myself reach its very end.

*****

Yes, I know it's just a computer, and yes, I am mostly joking. You know how I write, it starts out innocently and spirals out of control.

But I'm not kidding about lag, though. I really hate lag.

Also, the Crossroads DVD incident was based on a true story. There were three of the said onlookers who could verify it.

I heard something clever last week and thought I'd post it here:

You know the end of the world is near when....

... the best rapper is white
... the best golfer is black
... the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese
... the French call Americans arrogant
... the Germans don't want to go to war

Crazy times we live in. But I guess one thing stays constant: Kenyans dominating the Boston Marathon. A friend I knew in college was telling me stories once about when he was doing missions work in Kenya. There were these two towns that were like 20-30 miles apart, and they had to travel between those two towns kind of regularly. He said that the locals would just run the distance like it was nothing. Not only that, but pick up their heavy speaker equipment or whatever other stuff they had, strap it to their backs and just go. No wonder they always win those marathons. Makes you wonder if normal humans like us should even bother trying.

I had one of the worst mornings in a long time. Don't feel like writing about it now in detail. Anyways, I feel better so it's all good. Plus I got an unexpected email from someone I hadn't talked to or seen in a while, which made the day a little better.

I forgot to mention in my Easter Blog that I watched Anger Management with Olivia over the weekend. I thought it was pretty good, consider it "recommended" by the prestigious Dudo509 Blogspot Movie Division. It reinforced my high opinions of Jack Nicholson and Marisa Tomei.

But I think the old Adam Sandler is gone for good, if we didn't know that already. I wish he would do more stuff like Happy Gilmore or Billy Madison, but I guess chicks don't dig the vulgarity and weirdness as much. They seem to prefer the more cutesy stuff like Big Daddy, Waterboy, or Wedding Singer. (I haven't seen Wedding Singer but I figure it fits that category) Hardcore fans would probably say he sold out, so that his movies would make more money, and so he could score more with the ladies.

Another thing I should've said in my last blog was Happy Birthday to Anuj, Jeff, and Tuan. Don't know if you guys read this page but oh well. Sorry I didn't make it to your dinner or to the Buzz, but you can take comfort in the grand honor of being mentioned in my blog.

Easter Blog

- I got a chance to play some World Series 2K3 at P's house a few days ago. There's nothing quite like playing a quality baseball game with your boys, especially if they are in the same fantasy baseball league as you. Brings back all the memories of ISR, when we would get Rover and play TP 2000 every day in my room.

- I think every one of my past roommates has complained at some point that I'm never around. Which probably isn't untrue, cause I was just that popular in college. But I think in the past week, I have seen my 2 housemates at the house for all of about 2 hours total. I'm usually here, but they get home late when I'm either already in bed or about to go to bed. Anyways, it's a weird feeling that for once, I am the one who is always around and the guys I live with are always out. Kind of a nice change of pace, actually.

- This might be the first year that Easter has not been a big deal in my life. From the days of the Easter Bunny, decorating and hunting for eggs, to the days at U of I, when Easter was a week-long event for CFC ("Passion Week"), it always seemed like a really major holiday to me. This year, it seems to have come and gone without the usual hoopla. Well, there was still Easter service at my home church, and I got Good Friday off for work, which was nice, but I just never got into the Easter-y mood this year. Hopefully that doesn't happen to me with Christmas. I doubt it will though... just gotta watch Home Alone and that makes me plenty juiced for the holidays.

- Dave Chappelle is hilarious

- It's disappointing that Bill Self decided to leave Illinois for Kansas. But three years ago, we were also disappointed that Lon Krueger left for the NBA. Things turned out pretty good for us then, and I think they will turn out just fine for us in the next couple years too. My feeling is that Self will do well in Kansas, whoever replaces Self for us will do well at Illinois, and Roy Williams will regret going to North Carolina within a couple years. For any Illinois haters reading, I recommend you read Andy Katz's article on ESPN.com. Basically, it's just saying how Kansas is such an awesome job and Illinois is for leftover chumps.

Currently Playing On My Winamp: Coldplay - The Scientist
I remember this was one of my favorite songs when I first listened to the CD last year. I forgot about it until I started hearing it on the radio lately. Who knew that Coldplay would get big, that girls would adore Chris Martin, and he would end up dating Gwyneth Paltrow? Certainly not I.

Good Heavens

Yesterday night before going to sleep, for some reason I was struck with the strong urge to look up in the sky and observe the moon and the stars. Maybe it was because of a conversation I had earlier, about how the stars you see actually died millions of years ago but their light is just now reaching us. I don't know.

Anyways, it wasn't that great of a stargazing night, plus I was tired so I went to sleep soon after, but the subject hasn't left my mind since then. Something about staring into the night sky triggers a weird but good emotion inside me. I'm a pretty rational, scientific person by most standards, but there's many times when I feel a very intangible side of being human too.

It's hard to explain these kinds of surreal feelings in words, or why I have them. I think we were born with an inherent need to experience the things of nature. At least to some extent, we have a part of us that craves and desires to escape from society, however briefly, and take solace in the larger world outside. I personally have been wishing for a chance to maybe spend time alone by the ocean or something like that, to just gather my thoughts and enjoy the world around me for a few moments.

The thing is, most of us live and work in the city or suburbs, and we're surrounded by people and all sorts of media pretty much from the time we wake up until the time we go to sleep. Between our jobs, the social lives we lead, and all the other things we fill our time with, certain things get lost or forgotten in the midst of all the busy-ness.

Don't get me wrong - I like my job, I love all my friends and family, and I would never trade my city/suburban life for any other. I mean, without a job to work at, and without relationships, life to me would be pretty meaningless. And as far as urban life goes, I appreciate it for what it is. There have been many memories throughout my life when I have felt so awed by the sight of a big city. Like admiring the Chicago skyline any time I drive on Lake Shore Drive. Arriving at the Las Vegas strip for the first time. Looking out the window of the 747 as I left Taipei a few years ago. Or standing on the deck of a boat, in the harbor outside Hong Kong, staring at all the lights and many beautifully architectured buildings at night.

I guess what I'm saying is, even with all I have in my life, something about me as a human being elicits a strong desire to experience things that are greater than what man can make or provide.

The Chicago skyline is so impressive and great to me, but when I see the infinite number of stars in the sky, or stand on the shore of a giant ocean, everything else seems so insignificant and unworthy of comparison. And when I think about how many millions or billions of galaxies are out there, how many billions of years or more that they've existed before I was even conceived, it's a very humbling experience.

It's an annoying cliche that I try to avoid, but this kind of experience tends to "put things in perspective" for me. When I work hard to achieve goals, and list my own accomplishments, it's easy sometimes to feel like I'm something really special and important, as if it's my world and everyone else is just living in it. It's times like these when I really need to be humbled the most.

I'm reminded that the world doesn't revolve around me. That all the things I absorb myself with in my life, the things I focus all my attention on, and seem so vitally important to me, are only a very tiny part of the larger whole. And that ultimately, whether I live, die, succeed or fail in the things I do, the universe and all that's in it will go on.

You'd think that this would be a discouraging thought, like I'm just a mere little individual and my life doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. But actually, deep down I feel strangely peaceful, knowing that I could mess up my life in the worst possible way imaginable and the universe won't care one bit.

Okay, so I don't really mean that last part. That's a pretty twisted way of looking at things. But I do take comfort in these thoughts because in a way they affirm my belief in God, that he is in control of everything, and not me.

It's like when you're a little kid, the feeling of knowing that whatever happens, your mom and dad will always be there, loving you and taking care of you all the way. It's a sense of security, but so much deeper than that. Well, by now I am more or less independent of my parents, but I refuse to believe that I am on my own, or that I am the highest being of them all. I still have a strong need to look above myself, to God who watches over me in everything I do. Knowing that I'm in control of my own life, but God is in control overall, is a very settling thought for me.

Some of you reading are probably thinking I'm crazy. "How does he get all that from looking at stars?!" The answer is, I don't know. Like I said before, human nature is so intangible and hard to explain in words. I may not know exactly why I enjoy looking at the stars or watching the waves of an ocean, but I do know that these things satisfy a part of me that other things in my life cannot.

I don't wish to quit my job, move to unsettled land in Canada, build a cabin in the wilderness and hunt for food. But I think I need at least some feeling of being in touch with nature, beyond the routine of daily/weekly/monthly life that I'm starting to settle into. Like the guy in Office Space said, "Human beings were not meant to be caged up like animals in cubicles and stare at computer screens all day." We weren't meant to simply watch TV, play golf, and drink beer the rest of the day when we get home from work either. Not that those things are bad, but too much of it ends up being just a jumble of distractions that clouds your mind and soul.

So I don't know what I'm gonna do, if anything at all. Maybe I should get a telescope and read up about astronomy. Or maybe I just need a vacation or a break from the routine. Anyone out there feel like going camping and looking at stars? I think now I'm just babbling on. Well anyways... I'll figure something out eventually.

Insulting My Fanhood

My 2-day stint at first place in Dudo League Baseball is over. But I remain upbeat about my team.

After Tuesday night's debacle at the Sox game, and reading Piya's blog, I have been thinking about my Sox fanhood. As many of you know, baseball is my favorite sport and the Sox are my favorite team. But in the past few years, I have found it harder and harder to support them as a fan.

The toughest thing for me is not when the Sox lose. Of course, I love to see them win, but I could still love my team and follow them religiously if they were in last place. What bothers me the most is that there are literally zero players on the Sox that I like. I used to like Frank Thomas, about 10 years ago when he was good and I didn't know he was a jackass, but since then I have hated him more and more with each passing season. I never liked Billy Koch, Flash Gordon, or even Bartolo Colon, either, and those happened to be our top 3 signings this season. My hate for Koch has intensified already, as it's less than 3 weeks into the season and he's blowing big saves.

The rest of the guys, I am pretty indifferent to. Magglio, Buerhle and Konerko are good players, and Crede has potential. But I couldn't really say I love watching any of them. It's been a while since there was a Sox player I liked. I thought Mike Caruso was gonna be awesome, but then he showed why there are no good lefty shortstops in the league. And I was starting to like Ray Durham more, but then my best friend Kenny Williams (worst... GM... ever) traded him away.

In any team sport, and I think in baseball more than any other, the human factor is so very important. Okay, so in some cases (Yankees, Braves, Lakers) teams can win on pure talent alone, but I really believe the best way to go is to build team chemistry and play together as a whole. Some good examples in the past few years are the Angels, the Twins, and this year's Royals. Not only do they win, but they're a lot more fun to watch too.

But "chemistry" seems like a foreign word to the Sox. We have no clear leader on this team. Our players don't seem to be focused on winning, nor do they show hustle. This shows that they don't care about letting down their teammates. We lack solid fundamentals in fielding, baserunning, etc., which is at least partly the fault of Jerry Manuel and the coaches.

We've had no shortage of prospects in a pretty good farm system, but so few of them seem to develop into true star players. Meanwhile, Kenny gets these big name players in the offseason and hopes that they the team will magically mesh together, all of a sudden.

Then we have Jerry Reinsdorf. I'll give him some props for at least showing some effort to spend money and improve the team, but he's still a putz overall. I'm still a little pissed that he didn't put more effort into making New Comiskey a better ballpark from the start, at a time when really nice fields like Camden Yard and Jacobs Field were also being built. And this year, he dumped one of the oldest names in baseball and made our stadium "US Cellular Field"*. As if the White Sox tradition and personality weren't dry enough already.

So they wonder why Sox fans don't show up to games. No, it's not because we're still bitter about the strike. No, it's not because of the neighborhood. No, it's not even because the stadium is unfriendly or because they raised prices for parking. It's because the team is just not worth paying to watch. I mean, I still follow the Sox on TV, and I've still been going to some games, but I would go so much more if they gave me a reason to get excited about being at the park.

They could do the Jumbotron pizza races, plane races, which-cap-is-the-ball-under game, and Kiss Cam all they want. They could have all the promotions you can possibly think of. They might even try making parking free with ticket stub and reducing the price of hot dogs to under $3. But all that's gonna do is probably attract more of the lowlifes who just wanna get drunk, run on the field, and do something stupid. True Sox fans go to the park for good baseball, not for all the other stuff.

The fact is, what we true fans really want is a team to get behind and cheer for, one that will make us actually want to get off our couches and drive to the field to root them on. We need more of the players who show leadership by example on the field, who are friendly to the media and make an effort to show appreciation to the fans. We'd like to see people hustle to first base, slide headfirst into home plate, and dive for groundballs. We want to see high fives, rally caps, or jumping out of the dugout to watch a home run.

You can't expect us to pay to see a team that blows leads late in the game, with guys who can't lay down a bunt, and who get caught stealing for the final out when you're down 3 runs anyways. It's just not right.

Hopefully we see improvements in the Sox organization sometime soon. I say we get rid of Frank Thomas and Kenny Williams for starters and see where it goes from there. Maybe dump Jerry Manuel too, for good measure. I don't care, waive the whole team and call up your minor league affiliate. I bet they're more entertaining to watch anyways.

I guess in the meantime, I'm gonna have to reluctantly follow my team and hope for the best. I still have faith that we can win this year. It's just not an easy time for me to be a Sox fan, that's all.

*****

US Cellular happens to be on my "list" too, which includes Structure and Home Depot. Me and my sister used to have PrimeCo. It sucked, so eventually I switched to Cingular and she switched to VoiceStream. But for some reason, when we quit, they kept a one-cent balance on my account. Now, Voicestream is T-Mobile and PrimeCo is US Cellular, but throughout all this time, PrimeCo/US Cellular have been sending us bills for $.01 every single month. We've called more than once to have them fix this, but obviously they never do because the bills keep coming.

I think next week I am gonna stop into the US Cellular store nearest me with a baseball bat and ask them not-so-politely to fix my balance and terminate my account. Maybe I'll bring a bucket of pennies and fling them at the employees.

*****

Update on the pants: I tried the "Goof-off" stuff on my pants based on Rich's comment, but I think, like he said, the paint was already brushed deep into the fabric beyond repair. Thanks for the suggestion anyways, though, it was worth a try.

On the plus side, Goof-off has a nice gasoliney smell. It gave me a nice dizzy and high feeling as I went to bed last night.

Home Depot

Some of you may know about my personal spat with Structure for the past 5 years or so. Ever since they wouldn't let me exchange a pair of shorts with a bleach hole in it, I started a personal boycott. In hindsight, I bet those stupid employees probably regretted their decision, for that was clearly the beginning of the end for Structure. After I stopped going, many others noticed that their clothes weren't as cool anymore, leaving the store so empty and unprofitable that management decided to change their name to Express Men in desperate measures.

Anyways, yesterday I added Home Depot to my list. You know those little round posts that stick up out of the ground and go up to about your waist? I don't know what they're for, but they're just scattered around the store. Well, it turns out that when I went there with Brian (Olivia's brother) last night around 9, they had just painted those things bright yellow.

So we get to the checkout counter, and as he's paying for his stuff, I lean up on one of those posts, not knowing that the bright yellow paint was fresh. Before I know it, there's 2 huge yellow stains on the front of my pants. Now these weren't my old dirty jeans or anything, these were my beloved Abercrombie khakis that Olivia bought me a few months ago. I wear those everywhere, not just to Home Depot but to work, to church, to Chris Farleycorn, and around the house. So I was pissed.

Now first of all, why are they painting those things during store hours? I lean on those kinds of things all the time and I'm sure other people do too. Second of all, there were no signs that said "Wet Paint" near that post. In a high traffic area like that, you better make sure that people know what's wet paint and what isn't.

The last straw was when one of the employees saw what happened, he was like "oh that's a latex based paint, just dissolve it with water and it'll come right off." So he showed me to the bathroom and I tried to wash the paint off my pants with copious amounts of water.

But try as I did, I couldn't get the paint to "dissolve" in the water. A couple minutes later I walked out of the place with the front of my pants soaked in water with a bright yellow paint stain to go with, then drove home ("home" being Palatine now). There, I spent another 2-3 hours trying to clean of the stupid paint. To nobody's surprise, the paint didn't dissolve in the water at home either. I still don't know what that guy was smoking. Maybe latex paint really does dissolve in water when it's wet, but it sure doesn't "come right off" clothes.

So I turned to my trusty friend, the Internet, for tips on removing latex paint stains from clothes. Piya told me "I think you're screwed." Then a Google search led me to a site that recommended soaking the clothes in water and detergent, and removing the stain with a toothbrush. Sounded like a grand idea, so I tried it. Well, it didn't end up doing much, other than ruining my only toothbrush. The bristles were all yellow, but there was no noticeable difference in the stain on the pants. So this morning I used lots 'o Listerine and I'll have to buy a new toothbrush today.

Oh yeah, did you know that there are "cleaning tips" forums on the Internet? Yeah, it's where people come to share their gems of cleaning wisdom with others. They have moderators who answer your questions and everything. How do you get to be a moderator for one of those anyways? I wanna be a moderator and give people the worst advice ever. Something like this:

Q: I got some green dishwashing detergent on my sleeve. Now my white cotton shirt has a green stain! I tried rubbing it out with some water, but it just got soapy and bubbly. Any tips?

A: Unfortunately, stains involving dishwashing detergent or other types of soap are some of the toughest known to man. Do NOT put your shirt in the washing machine, that will never work. I recommend that you treat the stain as follows:

Mix a solution of two parts dog urine and one part engine oil. Used engine oil is preferable, but fresh oil should do the trick. Synthetic is not necessary. And if you don't have ready access to dog urine, cat or even human urine may work as well.

Apply the solution liberally around the stain. If possible, soak the entire shirt for a couple hours so that the deep cleansing agents found naturally in motor oil can work on the tough detergenty elements of the stain. The urine should give the solution an easy texture to work with, while also giving the room a pleasant aroma.

If the stain lingers, take the shirt to your living room and vigorously rub it on your carpet. The fuzzier and whiter your carpet, the better, for it will soak up the stain quite well. For best results, make sure you do this while the engine oil/urine solution is still freshly applied on the shirt.

*****

Other than losing this pair of pants to a paint stain, I also ripped my best pair of jeans last year. Premium denim MY EYE! Then I have 3 T-Shirts that are permanently stained from engine oil because I'm stupid. It sucks because one of them was my Singha Lager Beer shirt I got in Thailand. Another one was my Coors Light shirt I got from the Coors brewery when we went to Colorado. And the last one was my long-sleeve University of Illinois shirt, one of two Illini shirts I have left. None of those are easily replaceable, at least not in their sentimental value. >:-O

On the plus side, my fantasy baseball team is doing well. Let's see if I can actually hold 1st place this year.

First Blog From Palatine

Today was move-in day. Went to church in the morning, then packed up my shiz and hit the road. We had 3 cars - Me, Olivia, and our minivan.

A short story about Olivia's car. A few weeks ago we were washing our cars in my driveway. This junior-high kid rides his bike by, and he goes "That's a tight Acura man... tight Acura." (She has a 2002 CL) I was like "ummm thanks." Couldn't help but feel a little bitter that the kid didn't compliment my car though.

Anyways, we strapped a full-size mattress and boxspring on top of the minivan, took out all the seats in the back and stuffed a 3-piece desk in there, plus a bunch of boxes. I must say I'm quite impressed with the carrying capacity of the Chrysler Town & Country.

So the move went pretty smoothly, with my dad, me, and Jason (the other housemate that's not Olivia's brother) taking care of most of the big stuff. I wanna say thanks to anyone who offered to help me move in. Didn't really need too much help this time but I appreciate the offer.

Ok, I'm tired now. I'll probably write more when I get the chance but it's sleep time for me now.

Life of an ABC

Well, I guess my mind has been in a reflective mode lately. One thing I was thinking about was how typical my life has been of someone born and raised in a Chinese family. I know most people who read this blog won't relate to what I'm gonna write about, but maybe at least some will be interested in hearing about what it's like to grow up as a Chinese kid in America.

And I don't know how much of this stuff applies to other Asians, but I know that almost every time I talk to a Chinese friend, something will come up in the conversation that he/she will definitely know about because they are "American-Born Chinese" (ABCs, and yes that is actually a commonly used term in our community). This is even more true for Taiwanese folk, who happen to be the most intelligent and physically attractive of the various Chinese groups.

The first thing that all Chinese parents do is try to teach their kids the Chinese language. They'll speak Chinese to their kids when they're little, probably send them to some sort of local-run Chinese school at some point, and maybe bring them to Taiwan in the summer to hang out with their FOB cousins (FOB = Fresh-off-boat, yes, another commonly used term) .

In some cases it works better than others. Most of the time, ABCs end up knowing enough Chinese to at least understand what their mom and dad are saying to them. Sometimes, they actually speak Taiwanese better than Mandarin because that's what their parents and grandparents speak more.

* side note FYI - The Taiwanese language is kind of like the "ebonics" of Chinese, the way I look at it. Usually, the more hardcore and ghetto Chinese people speak Taiwanese, like when you go to the street markets or tell a taxi driver where to go. For that matter, most of the major curse words I know of are in Taiwanese. Mandarin is more of the official language, which you hear on TV and in more professional places like department stores and corporate offices and stuff. *

ABC's also tend to screw around in Chinese school, so in the end, all they know how to write in Chinese is their own name, and maybe some basic characters like "Me (wo)", "You (ni)", "Friend (peng-yo)", "Teacher (lau-shir)", and "Good (hau)".

For me, my dad was a real nazi when it came to learning Chinese. I guess he saw that the ghetto Chinese school at my church wasn't gonna really cut it, so he'd collect Chinese newspaper clippings and make me study them. Then he'd print out like 16X12 grids on sheets of paper and make me write each character over and over until I learned it. But actually, that's how people learn to write Chinese, like in Taiwan, grade schoolers have to copy each word hundreds of times in order to remember it. One summer, my mom and dad sent me and my sister to a Chinese school in Taiwan called "guo-yu-re-bao" (it was actually run by a local news company), which was kind of like a month-long boot camp for ABC's to learn Chinese. Some Taiwanese people might know what I'm talking about.

Anyways, between all the stuff my Dad made me do, "guo-yu-re-bao", and living in Taiwan for a year, my Chinese is actually pretty good. It was really miserable at the time for me, when all my other friends were out rollerblading or at the swimming pool while I was at home for hours copying the same Chinese word over and over, but right now I can say that I'm definitely glad I did.

After the "learning Chinese" mission, the second most important goal a Chinese parent has for their kids is to make them learn a musical instrument. For about 95% of the ABC's I know, the musical instrument of choice is either piano or violin. In my case, it was piano, for my sister, it was violin. Again, it works better with some kids than others. I did ok, taking lessons for about 6 or 7 years before quitting. But compared to some other Chinese people I know, I flat out suck at piano.

My best friend as a kid was one of these guys whose mom and dad were obsessed with making him the best piano player ever. They shelled out mad dough to take lessons from the awesome teachers. They'd make him practice at least 2 hours a day (an eternity when you're a kid), and then send him to recitals and contests all the time. They didn't let him play basketball because they felt it was bad for his fingers. I'm not sure if he ever made it to the Young Performers thing they show on Channel 11 every year, but he was pretty damn good. Other Chinese people I know of who are really awesome at piano are Dennis (at least that's what I hear), and my super-smart cousin in Taiwan (but actually he's a FOB so he doesn't count).

It was kinda funny, now when I look back, and I remember how our parents would talk to each other about me and my best friend. My mom and dad would be like "wow, David is so good at the piano, he works so hard and wins all those trophies and ribbons, if only Joseph could be that good". Then his mom and dad would be like "wow, Joseph is so good at Chinese, he wins all those speech contests and stuff, if only David could be that good." And that's pretty much what Chinese parents do when they get together with other Chinese parents.

Which brings me to another part of being raised by Chinese parents. They are constantly comparing you to their friends' kids in every little thing possible. Not only in things like piano skill or Chinese ability, but they compare how well you do at school, how polite ("li-mao") you are to adults, and how tall you are. I can't emphasize how big of a factor height is, especially for boys. Every single time a group of parents happen to be in the same room with their sons, they make the sons stand next to each other to see who is taller. Every single time, with no exception, I swear. I personally suffered a lot because I was around 5'1"-5'2" until about sophomore year of high school.

You might think they would stop this comparison business by the time you are older, but trust me, it never stops. You get to high school, and you'll get plenty of news reports from mom and dad about who was a National Merit Scholar and who wasn't. You hear about so-and-so who got a 1600 on the SAT, was valedictorian last year, and went to Harvard. Oh, and it doesn't matter what the US News rankings say, every Chinese parent's ultimate dream is for their kid to go to Harvard. Princeton, Yale, Stanford are ok too, I guess, but Harvard is gold, without a doubt.

If you don't go to one of those schools for college, you have one of two options: Engineering or Pre-med. Seriously, a ridiculously high percentage of the ABC's I know went one of those two routes. For me, it was EE at U of I, following in the footsteps of about 5 or 6 of the older guys at my church. For Olivia, it was GPPA Pre-med at UIC, and she's currently in the same classes as my friend David who I mentioned before about the piano thing. Dennis and Cindy were ChemE at U of I. Other commonly acceptable roads are CS at U of I and the HPME Med program at Northwestern. If you choose one of these majors, it's guaranteed to make your Chinese mom and dad happy.

Sadly, very few Chinese parents are supportive of their sons/daughters who want to pursue the fine arts. It's kind of ironic actually, considering how much they push for their kids to learn piano or violin as a child. But if you tell your parents you want to be an art or music major, a lot of them will consider it a huge tragedy, like they wasted 18 years raising their child. I'm not kidding about that at all. Either Chinese culture simply doesn't value the artistic expression (which I don't think is the case), or they just want to know for sure that the son or daughter they worked so hard to raise is going to come out of school with a steady and well-paying job.

One thing I should also talk about is friends. My white readers can correct me if I'm wrong, or hopefully back me up on this, but when you're white, your best friend is usually your next-door neighbor or the kid that sits alphabetically next to you in kindergarten. This is not the case when you're Chinese. As everyone knows, Chinese families typically aren't very socially active in the neighborhood. Many Chinese parents also discourage you from hanging out with the white kids down the block, because they play too much and might corrupt you.

So, when you are born to Chinese parents, your best friends usually end up being the sons/daughters of their best friends. I talked about my best friend David, his dad went to grad school with my dad, and we happened to be born 10 days apart in the same hospital (Hinsdale). Though we went to different schools, him in Woodridge and me in Downers Grove, we were still best friends from, as he likes to say, "ages zero to six". Later on, his family moved 50 minutes away to (interestingly enough) Palatine, and eventually we drifted apart because of the distance. But even then, our families would get together for my birthday, his birthday, my sister's birthday, and his sister's birthday.

By the way, my sister and his sister were also best friends. And another thing to note about Chinese parents is that starting the exact moment their son or daughter is born, they keep a keen eye out to observe all their friends' children. Noting whose kid is about the same age and opposite sex of their own kid, and hoping that you hook up and get married with one of them when you get older.

Because the fact is, all Chinese parents want their sons or daughters to marry someone Chinese. Some are more vocal and strict about this, but I really believe that every last Chinese mom and Chinese dad feels this way. My mom and dad have never flat out forbid me to marry a white girl, but I'm pretty sure they'd be disappointed if I did. I guess it works out, cause I don't have the desire to date any white girls anyways.

I think this kind of thing is especially true for Chinese people, because I know that Chinese culture stresses being proud of your own heritage, maybe more so than any other culture. Even though China is no longer a world superpower, we still call ourselves the "Middle Kingdom". When I was in Chinese school, they would always brag about how the ancient Chinese had 4 major inventions that contributed to human civilization: paper, gunpowder, the printing press, and the compass. At the time I was like, "big deal", but I still can't help but feel a lot of pride to be Chinese today. And to be honest, I think that when I have a son or daughter of my own, in my heart I would rather have them marry someone Chinese too.

Another note about marrying Chinese, there's this thing in Taiwan for college-age ABC's that they call "Love Boat". Officially, it's a program for people like us to go there for a summer, tour the island of Taiwan, and learn stuff about Chinese culture like calligraphy (mao-bi-ze) or kung-fu. In reality, it's a big meet market where ABC's hook up. The application process for this thing more or less involves just sending a picture of yourself and a copy of your parent's tax information. To me, that basically means they'll let you go as long as you aren't butt ugly and/or poor.

Anyways, the program wasn't officially titled "Love Boat", but it was nicknamed that because after the first few years, a lot of girls were coming back pregnant. You'd think that parents would stop sending their kids to this thing, but that's not the case. I guess some of them are just that worried about their kid getting married to a whitey. My mom actually wanted me to go a few years ago, but I don't think she knows about the pregnancy stories and all that stuff. I didn't go cause it sounded dumb and I didn't want to be in Taiwan all summer, but I have plenty of friends who did. They would probably tell you pretty much all the same things I just wrote.

A blog entry about childhood as an ABC wouldn't be right without talking about video games. Every Chinese boy loves video games. That's probably why we all have glasses, too. Whenever me and my friends got together, that's what we did, was play Nintendo. From the early days of the original Mario Bros., all the way to college with Tekken 3 on Playstation and Starcraft on PC.

A funny thing about the old school 8-bit Nintendo, the truly hardcore Chinese kids (like me) had "Chinese Nintendo" (which was actually Japan's Famicom). Only certain Chinese people will know what I'm talking about here. Instead of the American version, which is gray and loads games sideways, Chinese Nintendo is white with red trim and loads from the top. And unlike American Ninendo, its controllers were permanently connected to the machine, and only player 1 had the select/start buttons. But, some versions had a microphone built in to controller 2 which let you talk through the TV speakers. Ah, that was hours of fun.

Other than that, most of the games were the same for Chinese and American Nintendo, like Mario, ExciteBike, Pro Wrestling, and Hockey. Except they weren't interchangeable between systems, and sometimes the games were in Japanese so you had to guess what they were saying. The cool thing about Chinese Nintendo was that you could go to Taiwan and get these bigger cartridges from street vendors that had like 31 games on one cartridge. Most of them were crappy games, but the concept was cool.

Anyways, I could write way more on this subject, like stuff about using the fat guys and skinny guys in Hockey, or "A Winner Is You" in Pro Wrestling, but I think I've already lost all but one or two readers by now. Maybe one of these days I'll devote a blog to old school video games. Or if anyone else wants to write one, I'll definitely comment on it.

Well, that was a pretty freaking long blog. Hopefully it was informative and/or thought provoking though. It's not the complete story either, I tried to limit it to just the major stuff. I could seriously write a whole lot more but I decided just to talk about the major stuff. I didn't even mention anything about mah-johng, Chinese New Year, hot pot, Chinatown, or visiting relatives.

But yeah, I hope at least maybe one person out there got something from reading all that besides me. Any questions please feel free to ask.... hahaha

Moving Out

As I get ready to move out from my mom and dad's house later this week, it's starting to slowly hit me that I'm gonna be essentially "on my own" in the real world for the first time in my life. I mean, ever since I was born, there's always been the "parental umbrella" over my head to protect me, but up until this point, I've never truly and completely stepped out from under that umbrella.

I look back on the past few years, and in many ways I could say that I've already been becoming more independent throughout the years. The way I view the whole thing is like it's climbing a flight of stairs. At the top of the staircase is the "real world" and complete independence. As you move forward in life, you climb these steps one at a time until you reach that top level. Some people climb them faster than others, but most of us eventually get there one way or another.

For example, we all started out as babies. We need mommy and daddy for everything: not just to put milk and food straight in our mouths, but also to put us in our crib, to roll us around in our stroller, even to burp us and change our diapers.

Then at some point, we learn to walk. We get potty trained. We figure out how to feed ourselves using spoons and chew and all that stuff. Those being the first steps we take, obviously, and from then on I'm sure you all get the picture.

Well, I guess right now I'm taking this opportunity to reflect on my own life, my own set of stairs, except let's skip a few steps ahead to high school. Now, for most of my later years in high school, my dad worked in Taiwan and me and my sis stayed in Darien. Meanwhile, my mom went back and forth between two countries to take care of her husband on one end and her kids on the other.

During this time, I got a little taste of what it meant to be "man of the house". Such as, being the one to check on funny noises downstairs when it's late at night and mom and sister are too scared to go. Funny but true. Later on, since no one else was around to do it, I would experience the responsibilities of taking care of a house. Teaching myself how to fix the broken garage door, fix up aluminum siding, maintaining the lawn, things like that. Little things, but add them up to a big step for me.

There were the college years, when I moved away to school and lived apart from mommy and daddy for 9 months out of the year. That gave me a taste of the adult freedom that I never knew existed. Nobody forcing me to study, no one telling me where I could and couldn't go, what I could and couldn't do. At the same time, I learned some hard lessons that there were consequences to every one of my decisions. Another big step.

After graduating, and eventually finding a job, I could for the first time consider myself financially independent. Opening my own bank account, depositing it with paychecks earned from my own hard work, and, just a couple days ago, filing my own taxes. Yet another big step, and now I'm close enough to see the top.

Well, come this Sunday, when I move out, start paying my own rent, my own bills, etc., I guess that means I'll finally be taking that last step on this flight of stairs to reach the top. I don't really know what to think about that, the fact hasn't sunk in yet.

I know I'm very grateful to my mom and dad for being there throughout the years. They are the only ones who have loved me and cared for me unconditionally for the past 23 years. They're the ones that have pushed me forward throughout these 23 years and helped me to take each of the steps on my way up to where I am today. And I know that it's gonna be really hard for them to watch me take this last step on my own.

*nerd alert*
As for me, I'm picturing the scene in the beginning of Return of the Jedi. The part when Luke goes to visit Yoda, expecting to complete his training before going to fight Darth Vader and the Emperor. At that point, Yoda dies, and Luke is like "sweet, I guess I'm on my own then. Hope I don't get raped by Darth again." Or, in the Lion King when Simba watches his dad die in the stampede. Suddenly, he realizes that he'll soon be tested to see how he does on his own for the first time.

I guess it's like for the last 23 years, my mom and dad have given me all they can, taught me all they could, and now all that's left for them to do is to watch and hope that it was enough for me to survive without them. Well, I think they've done a more than admirable job of preparing me for this. Because of their hard work, I've had opportunities to succeed where they never did. Thanks to the things they've already done for me, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about survival.

In reality, I'm actually making this whole thing a lot more dramatic than it really is. I tend to do that when I write blogs, but oh well. I'll move out on Sunday, my life will change, but a lot will stay the same. It remains to be seen to what extent things will be different, but I'll just take it all as it comes.

One thing I can say for sure: many more thoughts related to this will follow in the coming days/months, and they will be recorded in this blog for you all to read.

Taxes

I did my taxes today. Got $1389.51 back from the federal gov't and $46.75 from state. For some reason, I didn't feel like $1389 was real money, it's just gonna get deposited into my bank. But when I saw $46 I immediately thought of what I was gonna buy with that money. So in the future, if I just send all my paychecks to direct deposit, maybe I won't spend any money.

Anyways, I was just thinking about what to spend money on. Electronics are the most tempting. The next purchase will either be the Toshiba Pocket PC or a nice little TV for my room. I was picturing that commercial when they have the flat panel and mount it on the ceiling. That would be pretty cool, but I don't think I wanna burn that much cash right now.

It's kinda bad, cause this is the kind of stuff that brings more recurring costs. Like if I get a PDA, I'll end up buying memory cards and add-ons and stuff. And if I get a TV, I'll probably eventually get a PS2 or GameCube, or a DVD player, which means I'll buy more DVDs.

Which makes me think, my life is pretty simple right now, and I consider myself a pretty happy person. Do more possessions really add more to life? I remember watching a video in Leisure Studies 100 (which I took one summer and I recommend to anyone still at U of I), and it was comparing people's standard of living in the 50's to how it is today. In the 50's, people were told that the technology advances in the future would eliminate the need for us to work, and that everyone would be able to relax all day.

Well, it turns out that technology is indeed more advanced today, but the opposite has happened to the typical person's lifestyle. Instead of having more free time, we are statistically busier and more stressed than ever. We work more, and make more money, but we also spend more and have less time to enjoy what we have.

What to make of this? Should we live the life of a Buddhist monk, get rid of all our possessions and live on a mountaintop reciting chants all day? Well, I don't think that's the answer either. I still like my possessions. I still love the feeling of opening a new toy. And I don't know any Buddhist chants.

I guess I don't have a point to sum up all this stuff I just wrote. I started out just writing about doing my taxes and ended up writing about Leisure Studies somehow. And now I am too tired to write a conclusion.

Laters.

Jerry Krause resigned today. With the war going on, this SARS business, Columbia exploding, etc., this is by far the best news I have heard in a long time. It's too bad he didn't resign 3 years ago before Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, and Phil Jackson all left.

I didn't know Bone Thugs were Phil Collins fans. That new song ("Home") is kind of catchy but it's just not the same without Bizzy Bone.

Olivia cut her hair yesterday after she went back to school. I'm almost afraid to see what she looks like with short hair. Over the past couple years, I grew more attached to her hair than she was. I have a healthy obsession and a fond love for long black hair. And now it's all gone >:-O

I'm setting this Sunday, April 13th as my official move-in date. This whole thing has dragged out way too long and it's time to nail down a day for good. I should thank everyone who offered to help me move in, but I don't know if I'll end up needing too much help. But if anyone wants to join me for a dinner afterwards, to celebrate a successful move-in, that would be great.

Yesterday I ended up driving all over the northern suburbs. Stopped by the townhouse in Palatine to see my room and measure its dimensions, then went and looked for some furniture. I think I've decided to bring a queen size bed from home, and maybe half of my desk too. Which means one of these days I'll have to rent a U-Haul or something and just take everything there in one trip.

After furniture browsing, I stopped into the Borders by Woodfield and did some book and magazine browsing. It's something I haven't done in a long time and something I should really do more of. When I was younger, there was a Super Crown right by my house, and me and my sis would ride our bikes there during the summer and read for hours. I think the first thing I need to read up on is cooking. Maybe I will buy "Chinese Cooking For Dummies" when I have more time to experiment and stuff.

***

I was looking at pictures from my mom and dad's trip to Italy and Switzerland, and it suddenly made me a little jealous that I didn't get to go. There's so much cool stuff there. The Colosseum, Leaning Tower, Sistine Chapel to name a few. I'm not a big expert in art, but I think the painting in the Sistine Chapel of God and Adam is unbelievable. Michelangelo was a pure genius.



I've promised myself that at least once in my life I will go to Italy myself and visit all these sites. I want to visit China sometime too. It makes me sad that my homeland is today ruled by Communist dictators. China has such a proud history in ancient times but look how far they have fallen. Although I still think Chinese people have preserved the rich tradition and culture throughout the years to be successful wherever they go.

But thinking about how the great empires fell, not only China, but Roman, Egyptian, Mongolian, British, and every single other dominant power in world history, we in America should take it to heart and not be so cocky and act invincible in world affairs. Even though our military power is head and shoulders above any other in the world, it doesn't mean we can never lose our position as the dominant superpower.

Donald Rumsfeld especially pisses me off, it's hard for me to imagine a bigger jackass than him. I can't even imagine if I were living in another country, how much I would hate that guy.

Lunchtime Blog

Well, here I am at my desk, eating a quick lunch in while we break from our daylong design review. Read some news, checked my baseball team, made the blog/xanga rounds, and I still got a half hour left so why not write a lunchtime blog?

Some news - and this is probably old stuff for many of you readers by now - Jennifer Garner split up with her husband, the guy from Felicity. What's his name again, Mick Foley? haha just kidding, I know his name is Scott Foley.

That makes me mad. Who does Jennifer think she is to give up a guy like Scott? I mean sure, she's the big Alias star now and everything, but up until last year I only knew her as the older girlfriend from Dude Where's My Car. As for Scott, he's so perfect and yummy. She's gonna regret this decision someday.

Ok, just kidding again. I do not think Scott is yummy. I don't even have a clue what he looks like. I have never seen Felicity in my life, and only part of one episode of Alias. I could not care less about this breakup. I have, however, seen Dude Where's My Car and highly recommend it. Jennifer Garner is not bad but, truth be told, I have eyes for only one woman in my life.

So it looks like I'm gonna be working at least a few more weeks of OT. But, this weekend I still plan to start moving my stuff up to Palatine. Too bad I don't have any real furniture yet. Some of you North people may be getting phone calls from your favorite friend soon (me) to help me look at beds, desks, dressers, and maybe curtains too. I think I already decided on which curtains though. There's this satin number with rose designs at Marshall Fields that is calling my name.

Well, I need to use the bathroom. Laters.

Post-sick Blog

I'm feeling much better today. Thanks to people who wished me well and also to those who wrote blogs that entertained me yesterday.

For those of you who missed it, my IM away message question was to name where the following quote was from: "Sick as a dog... gonna vomit." The answer was Austin Powers 2, said by Dr. Evil after his mechanical chair spun out of control on his moon base. Congratulations to Oiy and Olivia for scoring the correct answer, and also props to all others who participated. It was a tough one, even if you like the Austin Powers series a lot, that wasn't a well known quote.

By the way, if I ever have any future contests of this type, there's a good chance it will be from one of the following movies:
Austin Powers 1, Austin Powers 2, Home Alone, Star Wars, Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, Office Space, Happy Gilmore, The Fox And The Hound

Haha maybe not the The Fox And The Hound, most people probably have no clue what that is to begin with. In case anyone is wondering, it's one of those animated videos (not sure if it's Disney or not). I think me and my sister stayed with a family with younger kids for a few days, and we watched that video so many times that we knew all the lines. It's pretty amazing that 10-15 years later, I can still quote some lines from that movie. "I'm Copper, I'm a houuund dog!"

Well, yesterday was a pretty good day, other than the splitting headaches, body soreness, and extreme nausea. I caught up on some sleep missed in the past few months. I played craft with Dennis at like 1 in the afternoon.

I also discovered that there was a He-man movie made, with a younger Courtney Cox, and watched about 10 minutes of it on USA (or was it TNT), before realizing that it was a completely awful movie and changing the channel. That's too bad, cause I used to love He-man. One of my few action figures as a kid was a He-man where you stick those red round caps in the back, and when you twist his waist, he snaps back and delivers a powerful punch, emphasized with a loud popping sound (hence the cap). It was cool, except I wish his waist wasn't always crooked. He looked more like scoliosis man actually.

Oh, one last bit of exciting news - CHRAS has started a new blog. Read it here. I'm so proud of him. Way back when I first started this blog, not a lot of other people were doing it. Since then, so many new bloggers/"xangans" have joined us and it brings a tear to my eye. Nina, you are next.

Sick Blog

A recap of the past 36 hours:

Monday Night - Driving home from work, I was literally a block away from my house when a commercial came on the radio for $1 Filet'O'Fish at McDonalds. Since I have had a lifelong love affair with Fricky D's Fishes, I couldn't resist and went to go buy some. Boy, was that a mistake. As soon as I ate those two sandwiches and the "McValue Fries" (I felt like a homo ordering McValue Fries in the DriveThru), something didn't feel right.

Nevertheless, I played a couple games of Starcraft before watching Punk'D. Jessica Alba is really good looking but she also seems like a major biatch too. "Niiooo! I don't give a f_ck!" I have to give her negative points for that. Then I went to sleep.

Tuesday - Woke up feeling like crap. Head hurt like hell, mouth dry, muscles sore. Went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, but ended up hurling last night's dinner. I'm not eating any more Filet'O'Fishes for at least a week.

The funny thing about throwing up is that it is one of the worst physical feelings when it's happening. But in the minutes afterward, you feel good. A strange "Vomiter's High", if you will. And since I had a big Design Review meeting to attend, I decided to be a trooper and go to work.

By the time I get there, the Vomiter's High has all but faded. First thing I do once I get to my desk is check my email. I have one message telling me that the Design Review is rescheduled for later this week. About 2 hours later, I just can't last any longer and I take the rest of the day off.

Get home and pass out in my bed. My mom and dad return from their Italy trip to find me in bed with a big pot next to my head, which I had prepared in case of more hurlage. Spent the rest of the afternoon and night tossing and turning in bed. Maybe it's true that boys are babies when they're sick, but that just means we need girls that much more to take care of us.

Wednesday - Woke up feeling like crap, again. Head hurts, but this time I think it's soreness from being in bed all day, not from the sickness. Called in sick to work. Decided to write a blog.

***

I don't know about everyone else, but when I'm sick, my brain runs at like a million thoughts per second (or something like that). I swear, minutes seemed like hours yesterday when I was in bed. And unfortunately, my mind was filled with almost all negative thoughts. I had the angriest Linkin Park song stuck in my head, and couldn't stop thinking of images from the bathroom scene in Dreamcatchers. Fat guy's bloody ass, over and over! Sweet... Maybe in the future I will have to be more careful with what I put into my brain. I'm gonna listen to Chopin all day or watch Aladdin and Crossroads. Starting now.

Something that bothers me about being sick is, you don't get to see your attacker. I mean, it's one thing if you get mauled by a bear or something, cause then you know why your body is all jacked up. But no, you're being brought to your knees by a microscopic single-celled organism that barely counts as a living thing. They don't even have DNA, they have RNA. What the hell is that?! Makes me so mad.

I hate how every muscle in your body gets sore too. It's especially bad for me because I'm so muscular. Damn, why do I have to be so frickin huge? But I think I lost like 10 pounds in the past 2 days. And probably most of the strength I gained from the last month of lifting. >:-O

Shoot, I missed April Fools too. Not that I ever really did any real pranks for that, but still. I think me and Piya have the most immature humor on April Fools that isn't funny to anybody else. So I'll spare the rest of the readers from our jokes.

Well, I should probably go eat breakfast. My stomach is feeling funny and my brain is fried. Come to think of it, it probably wasn't a good idea to write this blog. It might be one of my most confusing and incoherent entries ever. Oh well.

Oh, here's a link to a story that might entertain you, in case you were disappointed by the content of this blog: National guardman changed his name to a toy

"And when it's on, we transform like Optimus Prime" - DMX, Get At Me Dog