Tha Grind
Since I spend about 2 hours on the road each day, most of it in traffic, I think there should be a law passed that requires people to put TV screens on their trunks. Then, I could watch stuff while being stuck in rush hour.
Eh... it's a thought.
Also, I think I like Justin Timberlake's song (Cry Me A River). It is the number one bumped song off my Rio during the daily commute. I never thought I'd say this, but I am considering buying his CD. If anybody has it, let me know how the rest of it is. And if there ever was any doubt, there is no longer any question that Timbaland is the reigning king of beats. That guy is amazing.
Be careful of Black Ford Explorers on 355 with tinted windows. I saw a guy get pulled over by one today. That's gotta suck.
You know what pisses me off? "Gapers delays". I can't believe they actually have a name for that. Also, on the traffic reports it's not unusual to hear about "rollovers" like "we have a rollover near the Army Trail Toll Plaza." I didn't know cars rolled over regularly. Never seen it before in my life, how does it happen? Maybe I will try pulling it off in our old Ford Taurus.
By the way, if anybody is interested in buying a 1990 Ford Taurus, let me know so I don't go trying to roll it over. Just to let you know, it sucks. It is loud as hell, doesn't pass emission tests, and the engine occasionally dies at stoplights. Other than that, it's awesome. Contact me now before it's sold!
Yesterday I was caught up in a meeting so I had to leave work later than usual. All I gotta say is, what a difference an hour and a half makes for traffic. Maybe I will consider shifting my hours now.
I have always liked how Honda Accords look, but this new generation is UGLY... That's right, U-G-L-Y you aint got no alibi, you UGLY...
M-A-M-A how u think u got that way? yo MAMA....
ahem.
Anyways... For those who are interested, the G35 sedan is treating me well. Now that it's broken in, I get to punch it more often on the highway when traffic is light. Back when I first got this car, I thought it wasn't a whole lot faster than my Maxima. But now I realize how untrue that thought was. At higher RPMs, this car just flies. Hmmm.... the temptation to mod is creeping up on me again. uh oh
Wednesday, December 11, 2002
Tuesday, December 10, 2002
I-L-L...
Just watched the Illini game. I just have one question - Brian Cook's mom is white??
I think maybe we need to temper our enthusiasm a bit about the Illini. As much as I wanna see them win, they honestly don't look all that impressive to me. A number of things bother me:
1. Free throw shooting - This is one thing that I can never understand. Almost any high school player, given enough practice, can shoot at least 75% from the line. How is it acceptable for any player on the college or pro level to shoot worse? I mean, these are free points here. It's only a matter of time before this costs us points.
2. Brian Cook - He's been doing a lot better this year, but still not up to par with what a guy with his frame and skills should be doing in his 4th year. His post game shows some signs of improvement, but the guy needs to stop making dumb fouls. Instead of complaining when you get called for over-the-backs, why don't you just stop going over-the back, Brian?
3. Alley-oops - As the saying goes, "more alley, less oops." These are pretty plays when they work, but we don't have to try it 8 times a game. Other teams will catch on, and when we start playing better competition, that's gonna burn us more than it helps in the end.
4. Nick Smith - Gain some damn weight, boy. I thought I was skinny.
5. Those little girls wiping the floor - Cute, but one of these days they are gonna get stepped on.
6. Get that Augustine mofo off the court! We want more Nick Huge... with a name like that, you can't be stopped.
The good thing is, our team is much more balanced and hopefully less cocky than last year. If we can make the above changes, I foresee a National Championship in March 2003 for the Fighting Illini. Screw Arizona.
Oh, and check out this game, it's called SNOWCRAFT. Haha not as good as Starcraft, but still fun. So far I can't get past Level 4... Can't stop laughing at the noises the kids make when they get wiped out.
Just watched the Illini game. I just have one question - Brian Cook's mom is white??
I think maybe we need to temper our enthusiasm a bit about the Illini. As much as I wanna see them win, they honestly don't look all that impressive to me. A number of things bother me:
1. Free throw shooting - This is one thing that I can never understand. Almost any high school player, given enough practice, can shoot at least 75% from the line. How is it acceptable for any player on the college or pro level to shoot worse? I mean, these are free points here. It's only a matter of time before this costs us points.
2. Brian Cook - He's been doing a lot better this year, but still not up to par with what a guy with his frame and skills should be doing in his 4th year. His post game shows some signs of improvement, but the guy needs to stop making dumb fouls. Instead of complaining when you get called for over-the-backs, why don't you just stop going over-the back, Brian?
3. Alley-oops - As the saying goes, "more alley, less oops." These are pretty plays when they work, but we don't have to try it 8 times a game. Other teams will catch on, and when we start playing better competition, that's gonna burn us more than it helps in the end.
4. Nick Smith - Gain some damn weight, boy. I thought I was skinny.
5. Those little girls wiping the floor - Cute, but one of these days they are gonna get stepped on.
6. Get that Augustine mofo off the court! We want more Nick Huge... with a name like that, you can't be stopped.
The good thing is, our team is much more balanced and hopefully less cocky than last year. If we can make the above changes, I foresee a National Championship in March 2003 for the Fighting Illini. Screw Arizona.
Oh, and check out this game, it's called SNOWCRAFT. Haha not as good as Starcraft, but still fun. So far I can't get past Level 4... Can't stop laughing at the noises the kids make when they get wiped out.
Monday, December 09, 2002
How To Tell Where The Asians Live On Your Block
*Look for the houses that have no Christmas decorations in season*
Seriously, of all the Asian families that I know, pretty much none of them put up any sort of Christmas lights or anything during the holiday season. If you take a quick peek down my block, you will find that this rule holds as well. I'm thinking that if there happened to be a modern day Passover, or if Hitler and the Nazis returned and decided to wipe out Asians this time, they could use this knowledge to their advantage.
Meanwhile, white households not only put stuff up for Christmas, but I also typically see stuff put up for Halloween, Easter, and St. Patrick's Day by my neighbors. There are even a couple people around in my subdivision who have installed a little thing that projects an image onto their garage or siding. Depending on what time of the year it is, it changes from one lighting theme to another, like a red-white-blue background with an American flag for July 4th, or a Turkey in a Pilgrim hat for Thanksgiving.
By far, the dumbest theme I've seen is one for Valentine's Day (I think it was a heart with an arrow through it). Not so much because an arrow through a heart is dumb, no. But do we really need to light up our house in order to celebrate this Hallmark occasion? Isn't it enough that for the sake of Valentine's Day, men gotta make dinner plans months in advance so they can squeeze into some gay restaurant on its busiest day of the year? Or that jewelry stores and chocolate makers reap ungodly profits from this one made-up holiday by raping unsuspecting whipped men over the coals and taking their hard-earned money?
They drill this holiday into us at a young age too. And even back then, I think only the girls liked making Valentines anyways. I just gave out Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Valentines every year. See, I was a playa like that since grade school, all the ladies loved my TMNT biz.
From what I remember, those Valentine candies sucked too. You know, the little hearts that say "Be Mine" or "URA QT"? Just terrible. Maybe that is why I have a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to this day.
Not that I'm bitter or anything. But if I ever meet the person who invented Valentine's day, I'm gonna give him the frowning of a lifetime. Anyways, when all is said and done, I end up doing something for Olivia on V-day one way or another. Even though I always remind her: It's not what I do on Valentine's Day that counts, it's the other 364 days of the year. And yes, I am a good boyfriend all year round. Just ask her.
*Look for the houses that have no Christmas decorations in season*
Seriously, of all the Asian families that I know, pretty much none of them put up any sort of Christmas lights or anything during the holiday season. If you take a quick peek down my block, you will find that this rule holds as well. I'm thinking that if there happened to be a modern day Passover, or if Hitler and the Nazis returned and decided to wipe out Asians this time, they could use this knowledge to their advantage.
Meanwhile, white households not only put stuff up for Christmas, but I also typically see stuff put up for Halloween, Easter, and St. Patrick's Day by my neighbors. There are even a couple people around in my subdivision who have installed a little thing that projects an image onto their garage or siding. Depending on what time of the year it is, it changes from one lighting theme to another, like a red-white-blue background with an American flag for July 4th, or a Turkey in a Pilgrim hat for Thanksgiving.
By far, the dumbest theme I've seen is one for Valentine's Day (I think it was a heart with an arrow through it). Not so much because an arrow through a heart is dumb, no. But do we really need to light up our house in order to celebrate this Hallmark occasion? Isn't it enough that for the sake of Valentine's Day, men gotta make dinner plans months in advance so they can squeeze into some gay restaurant on its busiest day of the year? Or that jewelry stores and chocolate makers reap ungodly profits from this one made-up holiday by raping unsuspecting whipped men over the coals and taking their hard-earned money?
They drill this holiday into us at a young age too. And even back then, I think only the girls liked making Valentines anyways. I just gave out Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Valentines every year. See, I was a playa like that since grade school, all the ladies loved my TMNT biz.
From what I remember, those Valentine candies sucked too. You know, the little hearts that say "Be Mine" or "URA QT"? Just terrible. Maybe that is why I have a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to this day.
Not that I'm bitter or anything. But if I ever meet the person who invented Valentine's day, I'm gonna give him the frowning of a lifetime. Anyways, when all is said and done, I end up doing something for Olivia on V-day one way or another. Even though I always remind her: It's not what I do on Valentine's Day that counts, it's the other 364 days of the year. And yes, I am a good boyfriend all year round. Just ask her.
Saturday, December 07, 2002
How's Work And My Thoughts On Life (long)
Well, another week at the jizob has passed for me. Since the #2 most frequent question I get these days is "how's work?" I guess I will write about how's work.
First, the good. I am very thankful to have a pretty good job in these times. The people at Northrop Grumman are all very cool, I haven't met a single person I don't like there. The pay and benefits are nothing to complain about at all.
The job itself is pretty interesting. To work in the military defense industry is to work on the cutting edge of technology, pretty much. I definitely think I will enjoy what I do here as an electrical engineer. And surprisingly, it is pretty close to what I expected from this career path when I took my first steps in this direction.
Of course, with the good comes the bad. Like I said, there's not a whole lot I can complain about the job or the company. Maybe the one thing is the commute. Every day I spend about 1 and a half to 2 hours just driving to and from work. (It's a good thing I foresaw the need to buy a comfortable car that I would love driving because I am spending so much time in the commute alone). I know there are people who put up with worse drives, but to think that it costs me about 8 hours, $10 in toll, and $25 in gas per week just to get to and from the job pretty much convinces me that I need to move closer. I mean, that's like 400 hours, $1750 a year, you know?
But the real thing that is tough about working life is the lack of freedom and the lack of variety. I'm having problems getting used to the fact that my Mondays-Fridays will end up being pretty much the same routine over time. And that my weeks in general will start to run together. I don't even have a lot of other responsibilities, like a house or a family or even a pet. But it still seems like every day, I am constantly flooded with things to do up to the point where I am too tired to go on and it's time for bed.
Yeah, bedtime, and Friday afternoon for that matter, never come soon enough. Before I know it, I'm looking ahead to catching up on rest during the next holiday.
Now, I don't think of myself as a stranger to hard work, but maybe the bottom line is that I still miss college life. Sure, I studied a lot at school, but at least there were times when I could sit down and just do nothing for a bit. At least every day was a little different from the day before. I'd see different faces, go to different buildings, and eat different meals at different times. I could wear ripped jeans any day of the week (not just Saturday), and sleep whenever the hell I felt like it. These days, I feel like an old man with his routine; I feel like a slave to my daily schedule and habits.
Remember that old board game called LIFE? You spin a wheel, and move your little plastic car along a winding path. Along the way, you pick a career (if you're lucky, you get to be a rich doctor or lawyer), you buy a house, maybe you go to college to get a degree, you add little pegs to your car when you get a wife and kids, and basically just a bunch of random stuff happens to you until you reach the end. The person who wins is the one who has the most money at retirement.
I know this was just a board game, but it bothers me to think that in some way, my own life might resemble Milton Bradley's oversimplified version. I don't want to follow a winding course laid out for me, just taking whatever comes my way until I'm too old to continue, have grandkids, and retire on a pile of money I've managed to collect throughout the years.
I don't believe in doing stuff for the sake of doing stuff. I don't like doing things simply because that's what I'm "supposed to do."
If I get married, I wanna do it because I've found the girl I love and because I want to spend the rest of my life with her. If I have kids, it should be because I will love them and enjoy raising them and watching them grow. When I earn money, I want it to truly be a "store of future pleasure." I want to spend it on people I care about (including myself), I want to use it for a good cause, and I want to leave my children with a better life in their generation just like my parents worked hard to do the same for me.
The last thing I want is to make money and stash it all up in the bank, just so I can say "I win" at the end of the game of life. There are few thoughts that make me sadder than the idea that on my death bed, I am considered no more than the sum of my possessions. I think unfortunately, somewhere along the way we all lose sense of the more meaningful parts of life, we miss out on the real beauty of life.
To the 3rd grade kids I teach in Sunday School, life is about how nice their teacher is, or if their best friend can sleep over this Friday. To a high schooler, it's about getting good grades so they can get into a good college and get a good job. To a lot of my friends in college, they decided life was about scoring as many chicks as possible. To other friends, life was about contributing to society and accomplishing great things by which we may be remembered. For my grandpa, life is about how he did in mah-johng for the day.
What does this mean? That everyone's life has different meaning? Or that at different points in our lives, we naturally seek different purposes? Are some purposes more noble than others? Are some people's lives worth more?
Consider the thought-provoking words written by mcpheenys in one of his recent blogs:
"it's all relative." this statement is very true. ok, say a billionaire is bitching that his tivo that he ordered hasn't come, so he didn't get to tape real world, and see if that skank bi-shelle is pregnant. and he's crushed. but someone says, "there are homeless people starving on the streets, and all you care about is tivo." but this billionaire is still feeling a lot of pain because he has no tivo. don't tell me homeless people have bad days everyday. there are some days where a homeless person will find a crack pipe in the garbage or a pizza crust on the ground, and it will be one of his best days, compared to his normal day. maybe they are used to being homeless. anyways, i'm not saying that the life of a homeless person is the same as a billionaire, but you can't assume that a billionaire has a better life than a homeless person. maybe sucking dick for crack brings someone much happiness, and money can't always make people happy. but i don't know, cause i haven't been homeless or a billionaire. so basically that is what life is about, maintaining high happiness levels.
I wish I had the answer to "what is the meaning of life" that the world's greatest philosphers throughout history couldn't agree on. But of course I do not. No, I don't agree that the meaning of life is "maintaining high happiness levels," though being happy with what you have is a much better approach than watching Cribs all day and sitting around wishing you had what the millionaires have.
To me, what's ultimately important is not whether or not I drive a nice car, have a beautiful family, or win the Nobel Peace Prize. At the risk of sounding gay, I believe that on my deathbed, I want to look back and be able to say, on the road of life, I enjoyed the view and I stopped to smell the flowers. And I don't want to ride along and follow someone else's path, I want to live on my own terms and by my own beliefs.
Being happy is important, but when I was little, I was so happy when we had 2 recesses per day instead of one. On the other hand, when my mom threw out my paper airplane, I was so unhappy. What does any of that mean to me now? It doesn't mean jack.
In the long run, living for happiness is an attractive thought, but it is also an empty pursuit. Basically, you are looking at your life as if it were an extra-large serving of cherry ICEE. You keep sucking the sugary-sweet slush because it tastes good and makes you feel happy. You don't wanna drink it too slow, or else it might start melting and you will miss out on some happiness. Don't drink too fast, or else it will give you a headache and you will end up feeling unhappy in that way too. But eventually, every ICEE reaches the bottom when it's just a watery mess and you throw it out. Then what?
Is this what happens when we get old and die? Do we just say, well, it was fun while it lasted and now it's time to go? If so, why doesn't someone just please kill me now. I don't wanna turn into some worthless watery ICEE.
When I mentioned the "beauty of life," I have to admit that I don't completely understand what those words mean either. It sure does sound nice, doesn't it? But when I think about it, nobody lives forever, everybody gets old and dies, yet we must be more than cups of half-frozen-juice, waiting for the last bit of sweetness to be used up. There has to be a reason why we are here and why we continue to live in spite of our inevitable end.
In so many ways to me, life is beautiful. Simple things tell me this. When I hold hands with Olivia, life is beautiful (hold your snickering). When I drive down I-57 at midnight in my Nissan Maxima listening to Siamese Dream, life is beautiful. When I see my mom smile, life is beautiful. I imagine that when I have kids and watch them grow, life will be very beautiful. There are probably millions of things I have yet to discover about life that I will eventually find to be so beautiful. Not just things that make me happy, but moments that make me realize that we are much more than that cup of ICEE or some squirrel lookin for a nut.
Though I can't neccessarily explain all the reasons or give you the best examples of the beauty of life, there is no doubt in my mind that it is beautiful. No one's gonna convince me that we are here to just satisfy our needs and seek happiness and die. Nor am I just a little peg in a little plastic car moving along a game board with everyone else, spinning a wheel to see what space I land on and what kind of disaster/fortune happens to me, until I reach the end and all I have to show for it is how much money I have, how many kids I leave behind, and what did I accomplish.
Sorry that my blogs have been so long. I don't have much opportunity to write as often, so when I do, all my writing energy spills over into a huge muddle of confusion at once.
I guess at the age of 22 and 7/9ths or so, there is still maybe 60 or 70 years ahead of me. Who knows whether or not my views now will change by the time I'm 25, let alone 80? But this is what I believe right now. It's not good to chug along and work and just survive until you get old and reach the end. Keep an open mind and take what comes, but also stay in control of your own path.
What does this have to do with "how's your job"? Well, as much as I like where I'm at and what I'm doing, I guess, the creeping worry is always there in the back of my mind that I will end up falling into a life of habit and neccessity.
I think it's kind of like how a marriage or relationship is. When you first meet a girl or get married, there's that "honeymoon period" where everything seems right and you don't have any questions or doubts about what you are doing. But what happens when it is no longer fresh and new every day? You do realize that to live in a honeymoon forever is an unrealistic and unhealthy expectation, but you don't wanna end up just "going through the motions." The real test is whether or not there is something deeper that can take you beyond the initial excitement.
Well, it kind of seems to me that the first 22 and 1/2 years of my life have been something of a honeymoon. When you're in kindergarten, you look forward to 1st grade. In high school, you look forward to college. To me, there's never been a question of "where do I go next?" because it's always made sense. Everyone tells you that you need school and I never questioned it.
Scene from Tokyo Breakfast: If nigga no go to school, nigga no get a job. If nigga no get a job, nigga no make no money. If nigga no make no money, nigga no be able to afford BMW 7-series, niggaaaaa...
Like I mentioned before, college is a time of great freedom, and I would say that it is probably the epitome of life's honeymoon. Even though you know it won't last forever, you enjoy it and try to convince yourself that your life will be like that.
At this point, it seems like a soft but persistent voice is saying to me, "welcome to the real world." Not knowing what to expect from the real world is an uneasy feeling. I'm not used to the idea of working at some job and just going with it until the next thing happens, whether I get fired, or decide that it sucks too much and quit, or get a better offer, or even until I retire 40 years later.
What's next for me? A BMW-7-series? Probably not. I guess I can't expect to find the answer to life's questions from writing a little blog. But believe me, I will continue to search for them. And the day I stop wondering and stop thinking about these questions will probably be the day I shoot myself in the head and end it all myself (don't worry, I won't really do that). But maybe that is the point of life, to search for its meaning. Haha that is probably getting a little too deep and abstract for me.
Well, thanks for reading. Hopefully nobody is mad at me for wasting their time with my worthless drivel.
Well, another week at the jizob has passed for me. Since the #2 most frequent question I get these days is "how's work?" I guess I will write about how's work.
First, the good. I am very thankful to have a pretty good job in these times. The people at Northrop Grumman are all very cool, I haven't met a single person I don't like there. The pay and benefits are nothing to complain about at all.
The job itself is pretty interesting. To work in the military defense industry is to work on the cutting edge of technology, pretty much. I definitely think I will enjoy what I do here as an electrical engineer. And surprisingly, it is pretty close to what I expected from this career path when I took my first steps in this direction.
Of course, with the good comes the bad. Like I said, there's not a whole lot I can complain about the job or the company. Maybe the one thing is the commute. Every day I spend about 1 and a half to 2 hours just driving to and from work. (It's a good thing I foresaw the need to buy a comfortable car that I would love driving because I am spending so much time in the commute alone). I know there are people who put up with worse drives, but to think that it costs me about 8 hours, $10 in toll, and $25 in gas per week just to get to and from the job pretty much convinces me that I need to move closer. I mean, that's like 400 hours, $1750 a year, you know?
But the real thing that is tough about working life is the lack of freedom and the lack of variety. I'm having problems getting used to the fact that my Mondays-Fridays will end up being pretty much the same routine over time. And that my weeks in general will start to run together. I don't even have a lot of other responsibilities, like a house or a family or even a pet. But it still seems like every day, I am constantly flooded with things to do up to the point where I am too tired to go on and it's time for bed.
Yeah, bedtime, and Friday afternoon for that matter, never come soon enough. Before I know it, I'm looking ahead to catching up on rest during the next holiday.
Now, I don't think of myself as a stranger to hard work, but maybe the bottom line is that I still miss college life. Sure, I studied a lot at school, but at least there were times when I could sit down and just do nothing for a bit. At least every day was a little different from the day before. I'd see different faces, go to different buildings, and eat different meals at different times. I could wear ripped jeans any day of the week (not just Saturday), and sleep whenever the hell I felt like it. These days, I feel like an old man with his routine; I feel like a slave to my daily schedule and habits.
Remember that old board game called LIFE? You spin a wheel, and move your little plastic car along a winding path. Along the way, you pick a career (if you're lucky, you get to be a rich doctor or lawyer), you buy a house, maybe you go to college to get a degree, you add little pegs to your car when you get a wife and kids, and basically just a bunch of random stuff happens to you until you reach the end. The person who wins is the one who has the most money at retirement.
I know this was just a board game, but it bothers me to think that in some way, my own life might resemble Milton Bradley's oversimplified version. I don't want to follow a winding course laid out for me, just taking whatever comes my way until I'm too old to continue, have grandkids, and retire on a pile of money I've managed to collect throughout the years.
I don't believe in doing stuff for the sake of doing stuff. I don't like doing things simply because that's what I'm "supposed to do."
If I get married, I wanna do it because I've found the girl I love and because I want to spend the rest of my life with her. If I have kids, it should be because I will love them and enjoy raising them and watching them grow. When I earn money, I want it to truly be a "store of future pleasure." I want to spend it on people I care about (including myself), I want to use it for a good cause, and I want to leave my children with a better life in their generation just like my parents worked hard to do the same for me.
The last thing I want is to make money and stash it all up in the bank, just so I can say "I win" at the end of the game of life. There are few thoughts that make me sadder than the idea that on my death bed, I am considered no more than the sum of my possessions. I think unfortunately, somewhere along the way we all lose sense of the more meaningful parts of life, we miss out on the real beauty of life.
To the 3rd grade kids I teach in Sunday School, life is about how nice their teacher is, or if their best friend can sleep over this Friday. To a high schooler, it's about getting good grades so they can get into a good college and get a good job. To a lot of my friends in college, they decided life was about scoring as many chicks as possible. To other friends, life was about contributing to society and accomplishing great things by which we may be remembered. For my grandpa, life is about how he did in mah-johng for the day.
What does this mean? That everyone's life has different meaning? Or that at different points in our lives, we naturally seek different purposes? Are some purposes more noble than others? Are some people's lives worth more?
Consider the thought-provoking words written by mcpheenys in one of his recent blogs:
"it's all relative." this statement is very true. ok, say a billionaire is bitching that his tivo that he ordered hasn't come, so he didn't get to tape real world, and see if that skank bi-shelle is pregnant. and he's crushed. but someone says, "there are homeless people starving on the streets, and all you care about is tivo." but this billionaire is still feeling a lot of pain because he has no tivo. don't tell me homeless people have bad days everyday. there are some days where a homeless person will find a crack pipe in the garbage or a pizza crust on the ground, and it will be one of his best days, compared to his normal day. maybe they are used to being homeless. anyways, i'm not saying that the life of a homeless person is the same as a billionaire, but you can't assume that a billionaire has a better life than a homeless person. maybe sucking dick for crack brings someone much happiness, and money can't always make people happy. but i don't know, cause i haven't been homeless or a billionaire. so basically that is what life is about, maintaining high happiness levels.
I wish I had the answer to "what is the meaning of life" that the world's greatest philosphers throughout history couldn't agree on. But of course I do not. No, I don't agree that the meaning of life is "maintaining high happiness levels," though being happy with what you have is a much better approach than watching Cribs all day and sitting around wishing you had what the millionaires have.
To me, what's ultimately important is not whether or not I drive a nice car, have a beautiful family, or win the Nobel Peace Prize. At the risk of sounding gay, I believe that on my deathbed, I want to look back and be able to say, on the road of life, I enjoyed the view and I stopped to smell the flowers. And I don't want to ride along and follow someone else's path, I want to live on my own terms and by my own beliefs.
Being happy is important, but when I was little, I was so happy when we had 2 recesses per day instead of one. On the other hand, when my mom threw out my paper airplane, I was so unhappy. What does any of that mean to me now? It doesn't mean jack.
In the long run, living for happiness is an attractive thought, but it is also an empty pursuit. Basically, you are looking at your life as if it were an extra-large serving of cherry ICEE. You keep sucking the sugary-sweet slush because it tastes good and makes you feel happy. You don't wanna drink it too slow, or else it might start melting and you will miss out on some happiness. Don't drink too fast, or else it will give you a headache and you will end up feeling unhappy in that way too. But eventually, every ICEE reaches the bottom when it's just a watery mess and you throw it out. Then what?
Is this what happens when we get old and die? Do we just say, well, it was fun while it lasted and now it's time to go? If so, why doesn't someone just please kill me now. I don't wanna turn into some worthless watery ICEE.
When I mentioned the "beauty of life," I have to admit that I don't completely understand what those words mean either. It sure does sound nice, doesn't it? But when I think about it, nobody lives forever, everybody gets old and dies, yet we must be more than cups of half-frozen-juice, waiting for the last bit of sweetness to be used up. There has to be a reason why we are here and why we continue to live in spite of our inevitable end.
In so many ways to me, life is beautiful. Simple things tell me this. When I hold hands with Olivia, life is beautiful (hold your snickering). When I drive down I-57 at midnight in my Nissan Maxima listening to Siamese Dream, life is beautiful. When I see my mom smile, life is beautiful. I imagine that when I have kids and watch them grow, life will be very beautiful. There are probably millions of things I have yet to discover about life that I will eventually find to be so beautiful. Not just things that make me happy, but moments that make me realize that we are much more than that cup of ICEE or some squirrel lookin for a nut.
Though I can't neccessarily explain all the reasons or give you the best examples of the beauty of life, there is no doubt in my mind that it is beautiful. No one's gonna convince me that we are here to just satisfy our needs and seek happiness and die. Nor am I just a little peg in a little plastic car moving along a game board with everyone else, spinning a wheel to see what space I land on and what kind of disaster/fortune happens to me, until I reach the end and all I have to show for it is how much money I have, how many kids I leave behind, and what did I accomplish.
Sorry that my blogs have been so long. I don't have much opportunity to write as often, so when I do, all my writing energy spills over into a huge muddle of confusion at once.
I guess at the age of 22 and 7/9ths or so, there is still maybe 60 or 70 years ahead of me. Who knows whether or not my views now will change by the time I'm 25, let alone 80? But this is what I believe right now. It's not good to chug along and work and just survive until you get old and reach the end. Keep an open mind and take what comes, but also stay in control of your own path.
What does this have to do with "how's your job"? Well, as much as I like where I'm at and what I'm doing, I guess, the creeping worry is always there in the back of my mind that I will end up falling into a life of habit and neccessity.
I think it's kind of like how a marriage or relationship is. When you first meet a girl or get married, there's that "honeymoon period" where everything seems right and you don't have any questions or doubts about what you are doing. But what happens when it is no longer fresh and new every day? You do realize that to live in a honeymoon forever is an unrealistic and unhealthy expectation, but you don't wanna end up just "going through the motions." The real test is whether or not there is something deeper that can take you beyond the initial excitement.
Well, it kind of seems to me that the first 22 and 1/2 years of my life have been something of a honeymoon. When you're in kindergarten, you look forward to 1st grade. In high school, you look forward to college. To me, there's never been a question of "where do I go next?" because it's always made sense. Everyone tells you that you need school and I never questioned it.
Scene from Tokyo Breakfast: If nigga no go to school, nigga no get a job. If nigga no get a job, nigga no make no money. If nigga no make no money, nigga no be able to afford BMW 7-series, niggaaaaa...
Like I mentioned before, college is a time of great freedom, and I would say that it is probably the epitome of life's honeymoon. Even though you know it won't last forever, you enjoy it and try to convince yourself that your life will be like that.
At this point, it seems like a soft but persistent voice is saying to me, "welcome to the real world." Not knowing what to expect from the real world is an uneasy feeling. I'm not used to the idea of working at some job and just going with it until the next thing happens, whether I get fired, or decide that it sucks too much and quit, or get a better offer, or even until I retire 40 years later.
What's next for me? A BMW-7-series? Probably not. I guess I can't expect to find the answer to life's questions from writing a little blog. But believe me, I will continue to search for them. And the day I stop wondering and stop thinking about these questions will probably be the day I shoot myself in the head and end it all myself (don't worry, I won't really do that). But maybe that is the point of life, to search for its meaning. Haha that is probably getting a little too deep and abstract for me.
Well, thanks for reading. Hopefully nobody is mad at me for wasting their time with my worthless drivel.
Monday, December 02, 2002
Long Weekend
It's been awhile since I had to go through the painful Monday morning wakeup following a long weekend, but today was the day. The secretary at the department where I work always says "Happy Monday" which is a phrase that doesn't really hold a lot of meaning to me. Neither does "Happy Tuesday" or "Happy Wednesday," but she likes to say that too. It doesn't usually bother me, but today it did. I think it's because I did not get enough sleep.
Oh well, at least she isn't like that lady in Office Space that goes "sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays…" or "JUST a moment."
Anyways, I didn't write anything over Thanksgiving weekend so this will end up being a blog on my weekend. First thing was Thanksgiving day, when the whole Chen clan gathered for a big huge blowout bash. Basically, it was just my mom and dad, my sister, and my grandparents (father's side). Unfortunately, there aren't really many Chens around town. It wasn't really a big bash, either. What did you expect, when everyone (except me and my sister) was getting ready to go to bed at 8:30?
Still, we had our traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Except, we didn't have turkey, yams, stuffing, or pumpkin pie. No, we did the traditional Chinese thing and fired up the hwo-gwo (hot-pot). All you slanty-eyed readers out there know what I'm talking about, but for the non-Chinkers out there wondering what it is, let me just say that hwo-gwo is only the awesomest way to eat food since Gerber's applesauce.
Basically, all you need for a hwo-gwo is a hot plate in the middle of the dinner table and a big round pot filled with water. You wait for the water to boil, then you start throwing stuff in like crazy. Lettuce, mushrooms, tomatoes are pretty standard, but you also gotta have tofu, fish balls, and golden mushrooms. Ah, golden mushrooms are so good. They are a world apart from normal mushrooms, with their long stem and chewy texture. Oh, and besides all this, you have to prepare some sliced raw meat on the side to cook when you feel like having meat.
Sounds like a blast, doesn't it? But wait, I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. Once you cook all the stuff, then what? Well, you COULD just take it out of the pot and eat it, but there are two problems with this. One, it is boiling hot and you will burn your mouth. Two, most of the stuff has no flavor and it will taste bland by itself (even the heavenly golden mushrooms). So, the logical solution, as you may have guessed, is to break open a cold raw egg, put it in a bowl, mix in some sa-tsa-jiang and/or soy sauce, and use it as a dipping sauce for all your goods. Ok, so I have no clue who came up with that weird idea, and why, but it is still essential to the hwo-gwo experience. As long as you can ignore those thoughts of salmonella or whatever else, raw egg with sa-tsa-jiang is clutch.
Oops, I didn't mean to write so much about hwo-gwo. But suffice it to say that it is one of the best things about being Chinese. If you are Chinese and don't like hwo-gwo, you might as well turn in your calculator watch and thick glasses because you have already disgraced your ethnicity beyond repair.
Alright, so after the big Thanksgiving hwo-gwo-fest, the night was surprisingly still young and I actually had time to go watch Die Another Day. I liked the movie, especially because it only cost $5.50 at Loews in Woodridge. That place is highly underrated, by the way, I don't know why I still go to AMC so much and pay 7 bucks like a chump. About the movie though, I don't understand why people complain that the lines are too cheesy. First of all, Bond movies have always been pretty hokey, even with Roger Moore or Sean Connery, so it's not a new thing. At least none of the latest ones have been called "Octopussy" or anything.
But seriously, anybody who cares about the dialogue in a Bond movie is missing out on the sweet cars, the gadgets, and the hot chicks (like Judi Dench as M…. rarrrr). Speaking of chicks, I gotta say that Halle Berry is such a terrible actress and that she needs to be somewhere high up on the Sports Guy's Unintentional Comedy scale (ESPN Page 2). I was dying when the bad guys caught her and asked "who are you working for?" and then her reply was "your momma." That was an awesome moment, you have to see it for myself. I was thinking hey, Halle Berry talks just like my friend from high school!
Like I said though, who cares about the acting? The best girl ever in a Bond movie will always be Michelle Yeoh anyways. Even though she's old, not-hot, and has the personality of a sea sponge, at least she could fight for real (plus she's Chinese). Denise Richards is a close second, but mostly because she is from Downers Grove.
The only real complaint I had with the movie was the blatant disregard for Ferraris shown by the moviemakers. My heart was shattered when I saw the car of my dreams fall out of a plane and end up with its nose buried in the ground. What's up with that? It wasn't even part of the plot. If they don’t want it, give it here. Throw me a frickin bone here, know what I'm sayin?
Friday was mostly uneventful. I helped someone move out of his apartment, then at night I went to Barnes & Noble to read magazines and make fun of Olivia and my sister for studying. Yeah, I don't miss studying for exams at all. Although I do miss the time wasted with my friends when we were supposed to be studying, like playing cards at 2nd floor Grainger, or 40's and Taco Bell with Dave Chan in the 4th floor rooms during finals week.
After that was dinner at Fridays (steak fajitas, I highly recommend them), and another movie. This time it was Solaris, one of those experiences in my life I'd rather forget. I thought it would be a good movie, with people like Steven Soderbergh and James Cameron involved, but maybe I was missing something because I want those 2 hours of my life back.
It's not like I've never sat through a bad movie, but I have never actually seen a significant number of people walk out in the middle of a film. I'd say about a half-hour into the movie, people started to get up and leave, followed every few minutes by another group of people. I didn't pay attention to who was leaving, but I think they were mostly the teenage girls who came to see George Clooney. When it ends up being some boring intellectual film, they couldn't take it and decided to jet. Ironically, those girls missed out on seeing George's fine bare booty (twice) while I didn't. If only me and Olivia had the sense to leave early too… but no such luck.
I had such high expectations for this film too. Or maybe that was the problem. It's just hard for me to imagine that James Cameron would go from creating a masterpiece like Dark Angel to putting out this crap. This movie was even more painful to watch than Titanic.
Ah… Dark Angel, where have you gone?
Saturday was Turkey Bowl, the yearly football tournament with the church peeps. It was fun, but all I can really remember is that it was freezing and that my body was aching sore the next day. It's a good kind of aching sore, though. Hopefully there will be more football playage this winter.
Finally, Sunday was church in the morning as usual and football all afternoon and night. Since I don't feel like re-living misery, I will not write too much about the Bears. They just seem to find new ways to get worse every week. The play before the half, it was like "No, we don't like to score touchdowns! Here, tackle me before I get to the end zone!" while R.W. "what's a block?" McQuarters just watches from the side.
Then came more misery from my arch-nemesis Kurt Warner. I vow never, ever, ever, ever, ever to start him on my team again. And I am begging Mike Martz to bring back Bulger before Warner screws me in this league again.
Thankfully, there was a happy ending to my weekend in the form of my new favorite player, Clinton Portis. I just can't say how much I love this kid right now. 3 months ago when I awarded him the Fantasy Sleeper DBA, I had no idea that he would go from the Bronco bench to becoming a stud running back that is carrying my team. But I'll take it, no complaints here.
So that was my weekend. And now it's back to work for a few weeks before more holidays.
I should also give an honorary DBA to Dennis for being my most prolific blog commentor. Thanks and keep up the good work! Oh yeah, your blog is also much better now with the pimped out design and more frequent posting.
It's been awhile since I had to go through the painful Monday morning wakeup following a long weekend, but today was the day. The secretary at the department where I work always says "Happy Monday" which is a phrase that doesn't really hold a lot of meaning to me. Neither does "Happy Tuesday" or "Happy Wednesday," but she likes to say that too. It doesn't usually bother me, but today it did. I think it's because I did not get enough sleep.
Oh well, at least she isn't like that lady in Office Space that goes "sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays…" or "JUST a moment."
Anyways, I didn't write anything over Thanksgiving weekend so this will end up being a blog on my weekend. First thing was Thanksgiving day, when the whole Chen clan gathered for a big huge blowout bash. Basically, it was just my mom and dad, my sister, and my grandparents (father's side). Unfortunately, there aren't really many Chens around town. It wasn't really a big bash, either. What did you expect, when everyone (except me and my sister) was getting ready to go to bed at 8:30?
Still, we had our traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Except, we didn't have turkey, yams, stuffing, or pumpkin pie. No, we did the traditional Chinese thing and fired up the hwo-gwo (hot-pot). All you slanty-eyed readers out there know what I'm talking about, but for the non-Chinkers out there wondering what it is, let me just say that hwo-gwo is only the awesomest way to eat food since Gerber's applesauce.
Basically, all you need for a hwo-gwo is a hot plate in the middle of the dinner table and a big round pot filled with water. You wait for the water to boil, then you start throwing stuff in like crazy. Lettuce, mushrooms, tomatoes are pretty standard, but you also gotta have tofu, fish balls, and golden mushrooms. Ah, golden mushrooms are so good. They are a world apart from normal mushrooms, with their long stem and chewy texture. Oh, and besides all this, you have to prepare some sliced raw meat on the side to cook when you feel like having meat.
Sounds like a blast, doesn't it? But wait, I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. Once you cook all the stuff, then what? Well, you COULD just take it out of the pot and eat it, but there are two problems with this. One, it is boiling hot and you will burn your mouth. Two, most of the stuff has no flavor and it will taste bland by itself (even the heavenly golden mushrooms). So, the logical solution, as you may have guessed, is to break open a cold raw egg, put it in a bowl, mix in some sa-tsa-jiang and/or soy sauce, and use it as a dipping sauce for all your goods. Ok, so I have no clue who came up with that weird idea, and why, but it is still essential to the hwo-gwo experience. As long as you can ignore those thoughts of salmonella or whatever else, raw egg with sa-tsa-jiang is clutch.
Oops, I didn't mean to write so much about hwo-gwo. But suffice it to say that it is one of the best things about being Chinese. If you are Chinese and don't like hwo-gwo, you might as well turn in your calculator watch and thick glasses because you have already disgraced your ethnicity beyond repair.
Alright, so after the big Thanksgiving hwo-gwo-fest, the night was surprisingly still young and I actually had time to go watch Die Another Day. I liked the movie, especially because it only cost $5.50 at Loews in Woodridge. That place is highly underrated, by the way, I don't know why I still go to AMC so much and pay 7 bucks like a chump. About the movie though, I don't understand why people complain that the lines are too cheesy. First of all, Bond movies have always been pretty hokey, even with Roger Moore or Sean Connery, so it's not a new thing. At least none of the latest ones have been called "Octopussy" or anything.
But seriously, anybody who cares about the dialogue in a Bond movie is missing out on the sweet cars, the gadgets, and the hot chicks (like Judi Dench as M…. rarrrr). Speaking of chicks, I gotta say that Halle Berry is such a terrible actress and that she needs to be somewhere high up on the Sports Guy's Unintentional Comedy scale (ESPN Page 2). I was dying when the bad guys caught her and asked "who are you working for?" and then her reply was "your momma." That was an awesome moment, you have to see it for myself. I was thinking hey, Halle Berry talks just like my friend from high school!
Like I said though, who cares about the acting? The best girl ever in a Bond movie will always be Michelle Yeoh anyways. Even though she's old, not-hot, and has the personality of a sea sponge, at least she could fight for real (plus she's Chinese). Denise Richards is a close second, but mostly because she is from Downers Grove.
The only real complaint I had with the movie was the blatant disregard for Ferraris shown by the moviemakers. My heart was shattered when I saw the car of my dreams fall out of a plane and end up with its nose buried in the ground. What's up with that? It wasn't even part of the plot. If they don’t want it, give it here. Throw me a frickin bone here, know what I'm sayin?
Friday was mostly uneventful. I helped someone move out of his apartment, then at night I went to Barnes & Noble to read magazines and make fun of Olivia and my sister for studying. Yeah, I don't miss studying for exams at all. Although I do miss the time wasted with my friends when we were supposed to be studying, like playing cards at 2nd floor Grainger, or 40's and Taco Bell with Dave Chan in the 4th floor rooms during finals week.
After that was dinner at Fridays (steak fajitas, I highly recommend them), and another movie. This time it was Solaris, one of those experiences in my life I'd rather forget. I thought it would be a good movie, with people like Steven Soderbergh and James Cameron involved, but maybe I was missing something because I want those 2 hours of my life back.
It's not like I've never sat through a bad movie, but I have never actually seen a significant number of people walk out in the middle of a film. I'd say about a half-hour into the movie, people started to get up and leave, followed every few minutes by another group of people. I didn't pay attention to who was leaving, but I think they were mostly the teenage girls who came to see George Clooney. When it ends up being some boring intellectual film, they couldn't take it and decided to jet. Ironically, those girls missed out on seeing George's fine bare booty (twice) while I didn't. If only me and Olivia had the sense to leave early too… but no such luck.
I had such high expectations for this film too. Or maybe that was the problem. It's just hard for me to imagine that James Cameron would go from creating a masterpiece like Dark Angel to putting out this crap. This movie was even more painful to watch than Titanic.
Ah… Dark Angel, where have you gone?
Saturday was Turkey Bowl, the yearly football tournament with the church peeps. It was fun, but all I can really remember is that it was freezing and that my body was aching sore the next day. It's a good kind of aching sore, though. Hopefully there will be more football playage this winter.
Finally, Sunday was church in the morning as usual and football all afternoon and night. Since I don't feel like re-living misery, I will not write too much about the Bears. They just seem to find new ways to get worse every week. The play before the half, it was like "No, we don't like to score touchdowns! Here, tackle me before I get to the end zone!" while R.W. "what's a block?" McQuarters just watches from the side.
Then came more misery from my arch-nemesis Kurt Warner. I vow never, ever, ever, ever, ever to start him on my team again. And I am begging Mike Martz to bring back Bulger before Warner screws me in this league again.
Thankfully, there was a happy ending to my weekend in the form of my new favorite player, Clinton Portis. I just can't say how much I love this kid right now. 3 months ago when I awarded him the Fantasy Sleeper DBA, I had no idea that he would go from the Bronco bench to becoming a stud running back that is carrying my team. But I'll take it, no complaints here.
So that was my weekend. And now it's back to work for a few weeks before more holidays.
I should also give an honorary DBA to Dennis for being my most prolific blog commentor. Thanks and keep up the good work! Oh yeah, your blog is also much better now with the pimped out design and more frequent posting.
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