Area Codes
We all know Ludacris has hoes in different area codes, but what about me? I don't have hoes, but I was going through my Yahoo address book and noticed that besides the typical 630, 847, and 217 numbers, there are quite a few strange ones that I added recently. I got the 510 (Berkeley), 903 (Paris, TX), and 514 (Austin, TX), to name a few. One friend also informed me that a move to London might be coming in the near future. The weirdest one (at least to me) was 708, which Caddy and Oiy use. I didn't know people still used that area code but it used to be my own. Back in the day, I think we were all 312, then 708, then 630 came along followed by 847 and 773 and whatever else I'm missing. Somewhere along the way I thought 708 was lost or replaced or something. Pardon if the order or the regional split was wrong. Times have definitely changed since cell phones came along, as well as fax machines and dedicated internet lines.
So it's nice that my friends are moving out to new pursuits in life, to different parts of the country (and world, for that matter). At the same time, it's sad that I won't be seeing these people regularly as before, maybe for life. Other than the occasional email, visit home, and outside chance that we cross paths someday in business endeavors or something, I doubt I will have much of a relationship with a lot of the people who I was once pretty close to. Sad, but nothing I can really do about it.
I thought it was interesting that at our age, and in the era of the email and nationwide long distance cell phone plans, relatively cheap airline fares, that geography is still probably the single biggest factor in determining our close friends. Or maybe it's just me. But you know how everyone's best friend when they are little is either their next door neighbor or the only kid on your street that is your age? If not, then it was probably the son/daughter of your parents' best friends. The point is, we didn't really choose our friends back then, they were kind of chosen for us by way of convenience, or mutual neccessity, depending on how you look at it. I guess that's only expected, when you're little and all you got is a little bike so you can't travel very far anyways.
But one would think that as we get older, the convenience or distance factor would no longer be as limiting for us. Like I already said, we've got easy access to email and phones, plus most of us now have cars to take us places that bikes can't easily reach. While these things do expand our potential reach, I'm not sure all of us are ready to take full advantage of our added range.
When I think about how I met my closest friends at college, all arrows inevitably point towards one big thing: where I lived. Freshman year was room 509 at FAR and the 5 or 6 guys that hung out together there (plus the hundreds of girls that came by each day looking to get a piece of the crew). There was also Chris at IT, who I knew from high school, and from hanging out at his place throughout the year I got to meet a lot of the people from his floor, who were mostly of a race that was foreign to me at the time (white). Sophomore year was ISR 3 South, where I met so many people on my floor and we had some of the best times ever. After that, it really seemed like when I moved to apartments, my group of friends was pretty set and I didn't meet too many people in my 3rd and 4th years at college. I would be willing to bet that most people in college find their experience to be the same or at least similar.
Before I wander off any further, what I'm trying to say is that whether it is a good thing or not, we always seem to end up being closest friendship-wise to the people who are closest to us distance-wise. It doesn't have to be a rule, but as they say, "out of sight, out of mind," and as I think about my "bros in different area codes" it's at least a little disheartening. Just to consider that for the most part, the good times in the past will stay in the past, and that the future likely holds little more than an occasional conversation or dinner, all the while knowing that it is nothing more than physical distance that really separates us.
The moral of the story is, if you want to be good friends with me, move to Darien and we'll be great pals. Seriously though, I'm glad my friends have found jobs or are taking grad school at different places around the country. I look forward to visiting each and every one of you guys at some point, when I become a bum and need a place to crash and live off you. Maybe someday we will write a movie script and star in Good Will Hunting together as well. However, if you would like to visit me, I will tell you to screw off. Haha just kidding.
Thursday, August 29, 2002
Wednesday, August 28, 2002
Music And Who Sings It
I was listening to and enjoying Aaliyah's song, "I Care 4 You" (track 6 on her last album), and a thought crossed my mind: if someone else was singing this song, would I like it so much? Especially if it was some large, unattractive, angry black mama-lookin type, like maybe Aretha Franklin (or someone else but I can't think of any other good examples at the moment). The thing is, as much as "who's singing it" isn't supposed to matter in determining whether you like a song, it does to me. I hope that doesn't make me superficial or a male pig. Aaliyah bit the dust anyways. Oops, I hope that doesn't make me insensitive.
It's just that in a song such as that one, an artist like Aaliyah is almost perfect to sing it. Something about her persona just gives off the right feeling that flows with the song, a certain smoothness about her style that goes beyond her voice. I don't think it's merely because she's pretty, but it's gotta be more than that. Something hard to describe, but perhaps "smooth" is the best way of putting it.
Maybe it's kind of like rappers; we have come to expect nothing but ghetto young black guys such that anyone who does not fit that description has virtually no chance of connecting with the public and succeeding as a rapper. Eminem is more exception than the rule, obviously, and it could be argued that he is not taken as seriously as a rapper, more as a novelty white guy who can rap and ruffles feathers by his controversial lyrics. But it's not just the expected image, or the credibility issue for the fans and public. Something about personalities like 2Pac or DMX or Dr. Dre just matches with the type of music they do. It would just not feel right otherwise.
So, my conclusion is that the best musical artists are those about whom we can say, "only (given artist) could pull that song off, and nobody else." Some songs that come to mind are: "Tonight, Tonight" by Smashing Pumpkins, "Mysterious Ways" by U2, "Big Poppa" by Notorious B.I.G., "On Bended Knee" by Boyz II Men, "Black" by Pearl Jam, and "You Drive Me Crazy" by Britney Spears. Haha sorry had to throw that last one in there.
I was listening to and enjoying Aaliyah's song, "I Care 4 You" (track 6 on her last album), and a thought crossed my mind: if someone else was singing this song, would I like it so much? Especially if it was some large, unattractive, angry black mama-lookin type, like maybe Aretha Franklin (or someone else but I can't think of any other good examples at the moment). The thing is, as much as "who's singing it" isn't supposed to matter in determining whether you like a song, it does to me. I hope that doesn't make me superficial or a male pig. Aaliyah bit the dust anyways. Oops, I hope that doesn't make me insensitive.
It's just that in a song such as that one, an artist like Aaliyah is almost perfect to sing it. Something about her persona just gives off the right feeling that flows with the song, a certain smoothness about her style that goes beyond her voice. I don't think it's merely because she's pretty, but it's gotta be more than that. Something hard to describe, but perhaps "smooth" is the best way of putting it.
Maybe it's kind of like rappers; we have come to expect nothing but ghetto young black guys such that anyone who does not fit that description has virtually no chance of connecting with the public and succeeding as a rapper. Eminem is more exception than the rule, obviously, and it could be argued that he is not taken as seriously as a rapper, more as a novelty white guy who can rap and ruffles feathers by his controversial lyrics. But it's not just the expected image, or the credibility issue for the fans and public. Something about personalities like 2Pac or DMX or Dr. Dre just matches with the type of music they do. It would just not feel right otherwise.
So, my conclusion is that the best musical artists are those about whom we can say, "only (given artist) could pull that song off, and nobody else." Some songs that come to mind are: "Tonight, Tonight" by Smashing Pumpkins, "Mysterious Ways" by U2, "Big Poppa" by Notorious B.I.G., "On Bended Knee" by Boyz II Men, "Black" by Pearl Jam, and "You Drive Me Crazy" by Britney Spears. Haha sorry had to throw that last one in there.
Tuesday, August 27, 2002
Anglers Fish Human Head Out of Atlantic
Of all the bizarre and disturbing stories I've read, this has to be up there near the top. Not only the fact that fishers found a human head, which is weird and disgusting enough on its own. But the guys' reaction to keep fishing for a couple hours after finding the head is at least as messed up of a story.
"we decided we could either run in and ruin a perfectly good day or we could fish our way in ... now, if it had been a freshly severed head, it would have been a different story"
Ok, I don't consider myself to be a big wuss, and if I pulled in a human head while fishing, fresh or not, I would have most definitely been too freaked to continue fishing. At the very least I would have vomited on sight. Most people I know would probably say the same. These guys just stuck it in a garbage bag and kept on fishing. What were they hoping for, to find more severed heads?
Of all the bizarre and disturbing stories I've read, this has to be up there near the top. Not only the fact that fishers found a human head, which is weird and disgusting enough on its own. But the guys' reaction to keep fishing for a couple hours after finding the head is at least as messed up of a story.
"we decided we could either run in and ruin a perfectly good day or we could fish our way in ... now, if it had been a freshly severed head, it would have been a different story"
Ok, I don't consider myself to be a big wuss, and if I pulled in a human head while fishing, fresh or not, I would have most definitely been too freaked to continue fishing. At the very least I would have vomited on sight. Most people I know would probably say the same. These guys just stuck it in a garbage bag and kept on fishing. What were they hoping for, to find more severed heads?
Worthless Stuff
Last week I wrote on how worthless weathermen are. Well, lately it seems like a lot of other stuff is worthless too. Like traffic reports, for instance. We should all know by now that every day is gonna be the same thing because the same thing happens every day. If it's rush hour, all highways will be congested no matter how many times you listen to "Traffic on the 8's". So basically, they could play a recording of the same report every day at the given times, and nobody would be the wiser. In that sense, it's even worse than weather reports I talked about before. At least there isn't a "Traffic Channel" on Cable TV and reporters don't get billboards like Tom Skilling, so I'm not as jealous and bitter about it.
The other thing is, I usually hear traffic reports on the radio, when I'm already on the road. And by the time the guy tells me a place is congested, it's probably way too late. Either I'm happy I didn't take that road, or I'm sitting there, moving at a snail's pace and listening to the traffic man mock me by telling me what I already know. What's the point of traffic reports, then? I guess it's just to make people feel like they have some sort of advantage over others in beating rush hour. Trust me, it doesn't make any difference. Rush hour is rush hour, it sucks and if there was a way to beat it, everyone would be doing it by now. Go ahead and listen to those traffic reports, though, maybe it will at least make you feel better knowing that thousands of other drivers are suffering along with you.
Look through any magazine rack and you will find all sorts of magazines. Men's fitness magazines fascinate me a lot, because every month there is a new issue, and every month on the cover they have some new fantastic way to get "rock hard abs." Seriously, every month, every issue, same old stuff. You'd think that every known method of working abs would have been covered by now. How in the hell do they come up with new things to put in new issues every single month? Same goes for Star Trek and Karate magazines, there's got to be some limit to new things you can write about an expired TV show or an ancient martial art.
Maybe the worst of all, though, is Cosmopolitan. I was kind of bored at Olivia's apartment a couple days ago, so I flipped through a couple of her roommate's Cosmos on her coffee table. All I can say is man, is that magazine trashy or what? And apparently it is one of the best selling magazines because I see it everywhere. With these, every issue ends up having the exact same features in one form or another:
- How do I know if this guy is interested in me?
- How do I make my man desire me more?
- What's the best way to fix a chipped nail?
- Stories about what sweet thing my husband/boyfriend did for me
- Stories about getting caught having sex in public
- Recipes for losing weight
- Cutest new outfits to wear for every occasion
- Who was George Clooney with last night?
Oh my gosh, I cannot understand why that magazine is so popular. It provides no real useful information as much as I could tell. I'll acknowledge that because fashion trends change and gossip is always new, new issues each month make a little more sense than Star Trek Monthly. Unfortunately, the rest of that magazine does not make any sense at all to me. It's kind of funny to read, but I don't understand how women can read that same old bullspit over and over, and hold it so sacred to their heart as if it was their Bible.
As for these so-called men's magazines like Maxim or FHM, they may appear like they are the male's counterpart of Cosmo but make no mistake about it: guys buy it based on the hot chick on the cover, not for the relationship advice. I mean come on, trusting your relationship to a magazine like Maxim is almost as bad as getting your allergy prescription filled by a crack dealer. If you ever read the stuff in Maxim you will find that it is more funny than useful. But the thing that scares me about Cosmo is that I think many women actually take the things they write in there seriously. Yeah right, if you were not attracting guys before, you will suddenly blossom into an irresistable goddess after reading the "secret tips" in that magazine. Or, your doctor, after years of study in the field, can't help you lose weight, but some half-wit columnist is suddenly gonna let you in on the easy trick to drop 20 pounds in 2 days.
There's plenty of things in this world that don't make sense and are actually worthless if you just take a step back and think about it objectively. It would help to understand ourselves in what we really are looking to accomplish by the things we do. Traffic reports don't really have much practical use, as far as I can see, but people still listen to them all the time as if it did. Ab workout tips, Star Trek News, and Cosmo advice on how to get guys doesn't really merit the space of weekly/monthly magazines, either. I can only assume that we look to these things and hold fast as a way to feel like we have control over things that we don't. Everyone likes to feel like they have some "inside scoop" on everyone else, like they have an advantage over other people by listening to the radio or reading a magazine. In reality, all of these things amount to is a significant waste of everybody's time. The fact is, there is no way that they can possibly solve all the problems you think it will, so you should either look for a solution from a better source, or find some way to simply deal with the problems that you do have.
Last week I wrote on how worthless weathermen are. Well, lately it seems like a lot of other stuff is worthless too. Like traffic reports, for instance. We should all know by now that every day is gonna be the same thing because the same thing happens every day. If it's rush hour, all highways will be congested no matter how many times you listen to "Traffic on the 8's". So basically, they could play a recording of the same report every day at the given times, and nobody would be the wiser. In that sense, it's even worse than weather reports I talked about before. At least there isn't a "Traffic Channel" on Cable TV and reporters don't get billboards like Tom Skilling, so I'm not as jealous and bitter about it.
The other thing is, I usually hear traffic reports on the radio, when I'm already on the road. And by the time the guy tells me a place is congested, it's probably way too late. Either I'm happy I didn't take that road, or I'm sitting there, moving at a snail's pace and listening to the traffic man mock me by telling me what I already know. What's the point of traffic reports, then? I guess it's just to make people feel like they have some sort of advantage over others in beating rush hour. Trust me, it doesn't make any difference. Rush hour is rush hour, it sucks and if there was a way to beat it, everyone would be doing it by now. Go ahead and listen to those traffic reports, though, maybe it will at least make you feel better knowing that thousands of other drivers are suffering along with you.
Look through any magazine rack and you will find all sorts of magazines. Men's fitness magazines fascinate me a lot, because every month there is a new issue, and every month on the cover they have some new fantastic way to get "rock hard abs." Seriously, every month, every issue, same old stuff. You'd think that every known method of working abs would have been covered by now. How in the hell do they come up with new things to put in new issues every single month? Same goes for Star Trek and Karate magazines, there's got to be some limit to new things you can write about an expired TV show or an ancient martial art.
Maybe the worst of all, though, is Cosmopolitan. I was kind of bored at Olivia's apartment a couple days ago, so I flipped through a couple of her roommate's Cosmos on her coffee table. All I can say is man, is that magazine trashy or what? And apparently it is one of the best selling magazines because I see it everywhere. With these, every issue ends up having the exact same features in one form or another:
- How do I know if this guy is interested in me?
- How do I make my man desire me more?
- What's the best way to fix a chipped nail?
- Stories about what sweet thing my husband/boyfriend did for me
- Stories about getting caught having sex in public
- Recipes for losing weight
- Cutest new outfits to wear for every occasion
- Who was George Clooney with last night?
Oh my gosh, I cannot understand why that magazine is so popular. It provides no real useful information as much as I could tell. I'll acknowledge that because fashion trends change and gossip is always new, new issues each month make a little more sense than Star Trek Monthly. Unfortunately, the rest of that magazine does not make any sense at all to me. It's kind of funny to read, but I don't understand how women can read that same old bullspit over and over, and hold it so sacred to their heart as if it was their Bible.
As for these so-called men's magazines like Maxim or FHM, they may appear like they are the male's counterpart of Cosmo but make no mistake about it: guys buy it based on the hot chick on the cover, not for the relationship advice. I mean come on, trusting your relationship to a magazine like Maxim is almost as bad as getting your allergy prescription filled by a crack dealer. If you ever read the stuff in Maxim you will find that it is more funny than useful. But the thing that scares me about Cosmo is that I think many women actually take the things they write in there seriously. Yeah right, if you were not attracting guys before, you will suddenly blossom into an irresistable goddess after reading the "secret tips" in that magazine. Or, your doctor, after years of study in the field, can't help you lose weight, but some half-wit columnist is suddenly gonna let you in on the easy trick to drop 20 pounds in 2 days.
There's plenty of things in this world that don't make sense and are actually worthless if you just take a step back and think about it objectively. It would help to understand ourselves in what we really are looking to accomplish by the things we do. Traffic reports don't really have much practical use, as far as I can see, but people still listen to them all the time as if it did. Ab workout tips, Star Trek News, and Cosmo advice on how to get guys doesn't really merit the space of weekly/monthly magazines, either. I can only assume that we look to these things and hold fast as a way to feel like we have control over things that we don't. Everyone likes to feel like they have some "inside scoop" on everyone else, like they have an advantage over other people by listening to the radio or reading a magazine. In reality, all of these things amount to is a significant waste of everybody's time. The fact is, there is no way that they can possibly solve all the problems you think it will, so you should either look for a solution from a better source, or find some way to simply deal with the problems that you do have.
Monday, August 26, 2002
Anticipation
The best things in life are those things you don't expect. When you build up something to the point of thinking it will be the second coming of Jesus, you are bound to be disappointed. It's those times that something nice happens unexpectedly that I have found to be the most rewarding.
For example, movies. I already wrote a little about this before, but the big-budget hyped-up supposed "box office smashes of the summer" almost inevitably fail to reach expectations. Movies like Pearl Harbor, Star Wars Episode I, Wild Wild West, etc., get so much attention before they even open, such that when people go see it, they expect that anything less than the "Greatest Movie Ever" will be a letdown. On the other hand, movies like the first Scream, Clerks, or Swingers don't receive nearly as much press, and they are that much more enjoyable to watch, when we don't expect it to be eight-thumbs up and flat out awesome. That's why I don't like to read critics' ratings, or pay that much attention to previews for that matter. And I rarely get that excited about an upcoming movie that hasn't come out yet, except for maybe Austin Powers movies or Star Wars movies.
When I was in junior high, life was basically eat, sleep, school, and Super Nintendo. Any time I had friends over, all we would do was play video games, and if we couldn't be playing video games, we would talk about them, like what the latest codes were. Either that, or we'd be reading our EGM (Electronic Gaming Monthly). Nerds, I know. Anyways, there was a time when the hottest new game coming out was NBA Jam, originally only found in arcades but now being converted to SNES. Having burned endless tokens playing the game at Enchanted Castle over the course of a few months, I was thrilled that I would be able to get the game and play it at home as much as I wanted (provided that I did my daily sheets of math problems and my mom and dad approved). Plus, EGM said the home version was gonna be awesome, and back then I did not realize that all these magazines depend on advertisements from video game companies, so they would almost never diss a game by a big company like Midway.
I waited day and night for the release of NBA Jam for a few long weeks, like I had never waited for anything else in my entire life. I drew NBA Jam logos on my binder when I was at school. I taped up an ad for the game on my wall in my room and counted down the days (March 4th, 1994, isn't it disturbing that I still remember the exact date?). At Toys-R-Us, you could pre-order it, and of course I was one of the first in line. When the day finally came, I called the store to see if it was available and when the lady told me it was, I jumped on my bike and raced there. All I can remember is the feeling of pure excitement as I was riding to Toys-R-Us and picking up this little cartridge that was gonna be the best game ever made.
It turns out that while NBA Jam was good, it never really ended up being as incredible as I expected it to be. The graphics were never as good as the arcade, but the fact of the matter is that after counting down the days for a month or so (which is like an eternity when you are a kid), nothing short of perfection would have been worth all the anticipation. I was a disappointed because I had set myself up for disappointment.
When I was in high school, my mom was panicking because I was always one of the shortest kids in my class. She would make me drink milk all the time, and constantly correct my posture, basically do anything she thought would make me grow taller. Eventually, I did start growing, but I doubt it was because of what she made me do. The point of the story is that for years, my mom got me thinking that growing tall was the only thing that mattered. If I could just grow taller, all my problems would be solved. But now that I am almost 6 ft in height (which is not necessarily considered tall but it's decent for an Asian guy and a whole lot bigger than what I used to be) I find that it doesn't make me glad in any way. Maybe being 6 feet tall is actually a world better than being 5 feet tall, but I don't notice any sort of difference in the way it makes me feel.
I noticed similar things about my years in college. We would spend a great deal of time and money to plan a few big parties for someone's birthday, graduation, or whatever, and look forward to them for weeks in advance as motivation for studying. The parties turned out to be fun times, no doubt, but my favorite memories are of other things. What I enjoyed the most in those years and miss the most now is stuff like playing cards on the Quad, or the times I spent lifting with the same 3 boys in the mornings every day, or watching the Bears' amazing comebacks in each others' apartments and destroying all the blood vessels in my hand from giving people high-fives afterwards. I miss the pickup games of softball, random tackling of people at inappropriate situations, a couple memorable games of Starcraft (haha), and thowing tennis balls at each other's cars while driving down Neil on a Saturday afternoon. Organizing things is great, but it's the spontaneous things that are the most unforgettable, and the unexpected things that turn out to be the most fun.
In sports, it's the same. When the White Sox signed Albert Belle back in the day to bat behind Frank Thomas, I thought we were gonna be awesome. By now we all know that it was a disaster ("we" being baseball fans). But a couple years ago, the Sox came out of nowhere as a bunch of no-name scrubs and took the AL Central easily. As a fan, that year was probably one of the best I can remember, even though we got swept out of the playoffs in the first round and sucked the years after that. Illini Basketball came off an impressive run to the Elite Eight in 2001, and the next year we came back ranked #2 in the nation, eventually making it to the Sweet Sixteen. Undoubtedly, 2001 was sweeter, and much more so, even though we only made it one round further. This is because we weren't really expected to be that good, but the team treated fans to a pleasant surprise.
What I'm saying here is not that we should live with low expectations. But I do think that a lot of us pin our hopes of happiness on certain things we shouldn't necessarily count on. We, including myself, think that life would be so great if only we won the lottery, had a better car, lived in Florida or Hawaii, had a good girlfriend/boyfriend, or looked more attractive. If only this, if only that. Not just the big things, but the little things. When we go to a restaurant, the food has to be delicious, waiter has to be polite, and bill must be cheap for us to be satisfied. If a fork is a little dirty or your meal arrives late, it can flat-out ruin the night for some people, just like that.
For me, I once thought that to be happy, I needed to find an engineering job like everyone else out of school, move out, and live the young, urban, professional life. When things didn't work out that way in the past year or so, the easy thing to do would be to curse the economy and curse the system. To a large extent, I do wish that it was as easy to find a job now as it was three years ago, but if I let myself cry and feel sorry for myself in disappointment that things didn't live up to my expectations, then I would be missing out on so much.
Working at home with my dad was never the plan, especially since I never had much of a close relationship with him, and because I knew basically nothing about the business world. But not finding a job out of school has turned out to be an opportunity and a huge blessing in disguise. I've gotten the chance to learn how to manage money and invest for a living. I've finally been able to understand and fully appreciate how my dad worked hard and supported his family for over twenty years. And I've gotten to know and better love a father that I had lost touch with over the course of the past 10 years or so of my life. Not only this, but I get to stay around this area and continue to spend time with old friends, keep in touch with college people, and see my girl a whole lot more often than I ever got to before.
If I had chosen to wallow in the fact that I spent 4 years studying in school for a degree that has thus far been worthless in terms of finding a job, then I might very well have missed out on the beauty of the situation I find myself in now. Even though I still plan to find a full-time engineering job soon, or eventually pursue a graduate degree, I would not have given up this summer for anything.
So, we all have the choice of how to look at things we face. Not everyone is blessed with as much as others, but everybody should have at least something that they are glad for. In the process of complaining about a rude waiter, you might fail to notice that your food is exceptionally good. If you continually tell yourself that you can't wait to retire to sunny Florida, you might never appreciate the fact that you grew up in Chicago with the chance to have snowball fights and go sledding.
What I'm saying about expectations is this: while it's good to have high expectations, our lives shouldn't revolve around them. "Take it one day at a time" is probably one of the most annoying cliches, but it is a good way to live and I am still trying to fully understand what it means. I don't get super excited about many things and I don't get extremely depressed about things either. I think we'll all be a lot more happy if we just take it easy and take whatever comes in stride. Appreciate the big things as well as the little things.
Don't think I'm trying pretend to be some sage man who's got everything together all the time, cause I'm not. Probably everything I write has been written before anyways, and in far more eloquent form at that. But sometimes I get struck with some thoughts that I believe are too valuable to me not to write down and record somewhere. I write my blogs for myself as much as I do for other people who read it, if not more (that is probably why I write so much and so often). And I honestly hope that someone gets something out of the things I write, myself most of all. Oh, please do remember that I never intend to write something long and tedious, things just blow up on me. I'm also thinking that maybe I share a little too much about myself, such as the NBA Jam story, but by now everyone knows what a big nerd I am. So oh well, why bother trying to deny it?
The best things in life are those things you don't expect. When you build up something to the point of thinking it will be the second coming of Jesus, you are bound to be disappointed. It's those times that something nice happens unexpectedly that I have found to be the most rewarding.
For example, movies. I already wrote a little about this before, but the big-budget hyped-up supposed "box office smashes of the summer" almost inevitably fail to reach expectations. Movies like Pearl Harbor, Star Wars Episode I, Wild Wild West, etc., get so much attention before they even open, such that when people go see it, they expect that anything less than the "Greatest Movie Ever" will be a letdown. On the other hand, movies like the first Scream, Clerks, or Swingers don't receive nearly as much press, and they are that much more enjoyable to watch, when we don't expect it to be eight-thumbs up and flat out awesome. That's why I don't like to read critics' ratings, or pay that much attention to previews for that matter. And I rarely get that excited about an upcoming movie that hasn't come out yet, except for maybe Austin Powers movies or Star Wars movies.
When I was in junior high, life was basically eat, sleep, school, and Super Nintendo. Any time I had friends over, all we would do was play video games, and if we couldn't be playing video games, we would talk about them, like what the latest codes were. Either that, or we'd be reading our EGM (Electronic Gaming Monthly). Nerds, I know. Anyways, there was a time when the hottest new game coming out was NBA Jam, originally only found in arcades but now being converted to SNES. Having burned endless tokens playing the game at Enchanted Castle over the course of a few months, I was thrilled that I would be able to get the game and play it at home as much as I wanted (provided that I did my daily sheets of math problems and my mom and dad approved). Plus, EGM said the home version was gonna be awesome, and back then I did not realize that all these magazines depend on advertisements from video game companies, so they would almost never diss a game by a big company like Midway.
I waited day and night for the release of NBA Jam for a few long weeks, like I had never waited for anything else in my entire life. I drew NBA Jam logos on my binder when I was at school. I taped up an ad for the game on my wall in my room and counted down the days (March 4th, 1994, isn't it disturbing that I still remember the exact date?). At Toys-R-Us, you could pre-order it, and of course I was one of the first in line. When the day finally came, I called the store to see if it was available and when the lady told me it was, I jumped on my bike and raced there. All I can remember is the feeling of pure excitement as I was riding to Toys-R-Us and picking up this little cartridge that was gonna be the best game ever made.
It turns out that while NBA Jam was good, it never really ended up being as incredible as I expected it to be. The graphics were never as good as the arcade, but the fact of the matter is that after counting down the days for a month or so (which is like an eternity when you are a kid), nothing short of perfection would have been worth all the anticipation. I was a disappointed because I had set myself up for disappointment.
When I was in high school, my mom was panicking because I was always one of the shortest kids in my class. She would make me drink milk all the time, and constantly correct my posture, basically do anything she thought would make me grow taller. Eventually, I did start growing, but I doubt it was because of what she made me do. The point of the story is that for years, my mom got me thinking that growing tall was the only thing that mattered. If I could just grow taller, all my problems would be solved. But now that I am almost 6 ft in height (which is not necessarily considered tall but it's decent for an Asian guy and a whole lot bigger than what I used to be) I find that it doesn't make me glad in any way. Maybe being 6 feet tall is actually a world better than being 5 feet tall, but I don't notice any sort of difference in the way it makes me feel.
I noticed similar things about my years in college. We would spend a great deal of time and money to plan a few big parties for someone's birthday, graduation, or whatever, and look forward to them for weeks in advance as motivation for studying. The parties turned out to be fun times, no doubt, but my favorite memories are of other things. What I enjoyed the most in those years and miss the most now is stuff like playing cards on the Quad, or the times I spent lifting with the same 3 boys in the mornings every day, or watching the Bears' amazing comebacks in each others' apartments and destroying all the blood vessels in my hand from giving people high-fives afterwards. I miss the pickup games of softball, random tackling of people at inappropriate situations, a couple memorable games of Starcraft (haha), and thowing tennis balls at each other's cars while driving down Neil on a Saturday afternoon. Organizing things is great, but it's the spontaneous things that are the most unforgettable, and the unexpected things that turn out to be the most fun.
In sports, it's the same. When the White Sox signed Albert Belle back in the day to bat behind Frank Thomas, I thought we were gonna be awesome. By now we all know that it was a disaster ("we" being baseball fans). But a couple years ago, the Sox came out of nowhere as a bunch of no-name scrubs and took the AL Central easily. As a fan, that year was probably one of the best I can remember, even though we got swept out of the playoffs in the first round and sucked the years after that. Illini Basketball came off an impressive run to the Elite Eight in 2001, and the next year we came back ranked #2 in the nation, eventually making it to the Sweet Sixteen. Undoubtedly, 2001 was sweeter, and much more so, even though we only made it one round further. This is because we weren't really expected to be that good, but the team treated fans to a pleasant surprise.
What I'm saying here is not that we should live with low expectations. But I do think that a lot of us pin our hopes of happiness on certain things we shouldn't necessarily count on. We, including myself, think that life would be so great if only we won the lottery, had a better car, lived in Florida or Hawaii, had a good girlfriend/boyfriend, or looked more attractive. If only this, if only that. Not just the big things, but the little things. When we go to a restaurant, the food has to be delicious, waiter has to be polite, and bill must be cheap for us to be satisfied. If a fork is a little dirty or your meal arrives late, it can flat-out ruin the night for some people, just like that.
For me, I once thought that to be happy, I needed to find an engineering job like everyone else out of school, move out, and live the young, urban, professional life. When things didn't work out that way in the past year or so, the easy thing to do would be to curse the economy and curse the system. To a large extent, I do wish that it was as easy to find a job now as it was three years ago, but if I let myself cry and feel sorry for myself in disappointment that things didn't live up to my expectations, then I would be missing out on so much.
Working at home with my dad was never the plan, especially since I never had much of a close relationship with him, and because I knew basically nothing about the business world. But not finding a job out of school has turned out to be an opportunity and a huge blessing in disguise. I've gotten the chance to learn how to manage money and invest for a living. I've finally been able to understand and fully appreciate how my dad worked hard and supported his family for over twenty years. And I've gotten to know and better love a father that I had lost touch with over the course of the past 10 years or so of my life. Not only this, but I get to stay around this area and continue to spend time with old friends, keep in touch with college people, and see my girl a whole lot more often than I ever got to before.
If I had chosen to wallow in the fact that I spent 4 years studying in school for a degree that has thus far been worthless in terms of finding a job, then I might very well have missed out on the beauty of the situation I find myself in now. Even though I still plan to find a full-time engineering job soon, or eventually pursue a graduate degree, I would not have given up this summer for anything.
So, we all have the choice of how to look at things we face. Not everyone is blessed with as much as others, but everybody should have at least something that they are glad for. In the process of complaining about a rude waiter, you might fail to notice that your food is exceptionally good. If you continually tell yourself that you can't wait to retire to sunny Florida, you might never appreciate the fact that you grew up in Chicago with the chance to have snowball fights and go sledding.
What I'm saying about expectations is this: while it's good to have high expectations, our lives shouldn't revolve around them. "Take it one day at a time" is probably one of the most annoying cliches, but it is a good way to live and I am still trying to fully understand what it means. I don't get super excited about many things and I don't get extremely depressed about things either. I think we'll all be a lot more happy if we just take it easy and take whatever comes in stride. Appreciate the big things as well as the little things.
Don't think I'm trying pretend to be some sage man who's got everything together all the time, cause I'm not. Probably everything I write has been written before anyways, and in far more eloquent form at that. But sometimes I get struck with some thoughts that I believe are too valuable to me not to write down and record somewhere. I write my blogs for myself as much as I do for other people who read it, if not more (that is probably why I write so much and so often). And I honestly hope that someone gets something out of the things I write, myself most of all. Oh, please do remember that I never intend to write something long and tedious, things just blow up on me. I'm also thinking that maybe I share a little too much about myself, such as the NBA Jam story, but by now everyone knows what a big nerd I am. So oh well, why bother trying to deny it?
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