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Always wrecking something

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[20 Nov 2007|04:12pm]

So since I switched my ISP, most of the images I posted here are gone. Yarrgh...I forgot to back them up too. Oh well.
Tell me a story...

Awwwww [06 Aug 2007|12:04pm]

Yao Ming (7 foot 6) married his sweetheart Ye Li (6 foot 2) over the weekend. Be prepared for the next generation of super-Chinese basketball players.

Tell me a story...

Continued silence... [04 Jul 2007|09:13pm]

I finally wrote a letter to my brother. I'm still not ready to talk to him though.

...click on it for a readable version...duh...


Tell me a story...

Ugh...I might be sick [22 Jun 2007|08:59pm]

I'm not sure what to think about the upcoming season. Henry is reportedly signing a 4 year deal to Barca. WTF. Look, I know he was out for most of the season from an injury and the front office hasn't been all that great this year, but PLEAAAASE DON'T SIGN WITH BARCELONA!!! We just started playing at Emirates Stadium and we should be rolling in $$. Ugh...how do you replace Henry? Our strikers are pretty good, but they don't have his killer instinct. I hope the transfer market brings good news before opening day.
Tell me a story...

Ohhhhh [16 Jun 2007|10:34pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]


Ohhhhh....I get it now...if I stop...
self-deprecating...or at least do a lot less of it...
I might just get what I'm looking for. Geez.

Tell me a story...

I do things [09 Jun 2007|09:35pm]

Saturday...

  • Woke up at 5:07
  • Woke up at 6:32
  • Watched Sportscenter
  • Woke up at 7:33
  • Breakfast - Omlette & rice
  • Adobe Illustrator/Spongebob at around 8ish to 9:30ish
  • Coffee/Jimmy Neutron until 10ish
  • Shower, leave for a platelet donation at 11:15ish
  • I have high blood pressure...must be stress. I usually don't. I'm worried. 12:24ish
  • I watch Blade Runner while donating...my 37th lifetime. Platelets are always a double donation. That's 2 pints. 2:08ish
  • Continue to work on a project with Adobe Illustrator. It's a picture book for a friend. I even pulled out my PC tablet. 2:45ish - 8ish.
  • Trip to Kinko's to compile the book. 13 pages, color, cover created from scratch...the things I do in the name of creativity. I also print out materials for my resume/portfolio. Fliers, posters, & comics related to teaching English. 8:30ish.
  • Made an impromptu trip to the batting cages. I can still hit, though my timing is off. Yes, I carry a baseball bat in the trunk of my car. 9ish.
  • No hanging out tonight...been feeling strangely reclusive as of late. I'd rather just work on my creative projects. Now-ish.
1 bathroom scribble| Tell me a story...

Interpret as I see fit...or deposit and go [03 Jun 2007|10:15pm]
[ mood | morose ]


I'm out of money.

I quit my weekend job in March to give myself enough time to grade papers, plan lessons, and do my other schoolwork. It was only a matter of time before I ran out of money. Student teacher life...woo hoo.

It takes a bit of courage on my end to ask my family for money. My Pop understands the circumstances I am under but let me make this absolutely clear...I HATE ASKING FOR HELP. Like my Pop, I am a stubborn jackass and asking for help deflates the way I view myself. Think something to the effect of Atlas or Ajax even. Vulnerability is poison to me. I know I know...probably not the best way to approach life, but I like it. I worry about others and myself...that's all. Of course, I know if I can't take care of myself, I can't take care of others. You can see the bind I'm in.

Pop gives me an envelope with a grand inside. Not much of a problem, really, except that this was the money my grandma (his Mom) gave him a long time ago...I don't know exactly when, but I'm sure it was sometime when I was a baby. So here I am...holding a thousand dollars my grandma gave to my Pop, who held onto it for who knows how long. It's a bitter pill to swallow...fuckin' hell.

It's the heavy kind of cash, you know...

Tell me a story...

Opening the creative floodgates [02 Jun 2007|12:18am]
[ mood | creative ]


...so I have this bollocks assignment for school I just finished. I have to finalize a draft on my philosophy of teaching. I turned in a draft about three weeks ago and just got it back earlier in the week. I'm not sure if I even wrote the damn thing. I mean, I know it's written in English, but it makes absolutely no sense.

I turned it into a six page comic. How's that for graduate level work?

Things I'm working on (or planning to work on):


  • Teaching philosophy comic (currently in printing/compiling stage)
  • A zine for my student teaching year (currently being compiled)
  • "Dating" concert fliers
  • Guerrilla speech bubble project
  • Rattle off another short story
  • Comic for next year's Sprout archive


This is probably the worst time to undertake such projects as I am wrapping up my student teaching, but something tells me that if I don't at least start some of these projects, I'm going to forget...and then where will I be?
Tell me a story...

2001 - 2007 [13 May 2007|02:16pm]
[ mood | Wistful ]


Instead of being productive, I went through the six-some-odd years of my "not so updated" blog. Woah...lots of change there. I even went as far as to add a bunch to the memory list. Huh...was being 21 really that far away?

Tell me a story...

The Peacock Shirt [10 May 2007|08:07pm]
[ mood | weird ]


A discussion at dinner

There's this peacock patterned shirt that spent a lot of time in our house. My older sister came home to visit for the week and took on the project of getting rid of some old clothes.

The peacock shirt belonged to my dad's brother. The next oldest of my dad's brothers...that is if he survived. He passed away in 1979 at the age of around 21. The peacock shirt belonged to him. When I heard my sister mention it, I wanted to claim it. She told me it was a skinny shirt...a veeery skinny shirt. It would barely fit my sister...and she's skinny to begin with. It goes to show how thin my uncle (whom I've never met) was.

My parents told us how much he would carry my older sister around when she was a baby. He absolutely adored her and always talked to her when she was an infant. We found out he would wake her up just to carry her around.

My dad said something to the effect of "Oh, let's just continue to eat dinner." Though, he didn't say it in a way that indicated he was frustrated or felt any sorrow about reminiscing. I was born after he passed away, but couldn't help but look out the window to hold back any tears that might trickle down my face. I don't know why...I never met him...listening to these stories makes me feel a little strange though. Not quite sad and semi-uncomfortable...yet pleased to know about family members I don't know about. I can only imagine how it feels for my parents to talk about the past.

Tell me a story...

Man, I thought we got past this [29 Apr 2007|08:35pm]

Aww...shit...really? (Click the TV to see what I'm getting at)

I thought we got past this thing. I don't know whether to be offended...or entertained...offentertained?

At least these were designed by a Chinaman...yeah that's right, I said Chinaman. I'm a Chinaman too.
Tell me a story...

[29 Apr 2007|08:01pm]
[ mood | complacent ]


Saturday morning I woke up especially early to visit the Red Cross for my 35th donation. 5 more and I hit the 'ol 5th gallon. I thought I scheduled a donation for Saturday morning...the Red Cross had been pestering me again and I obliged.

Turns out, I didn't get a reminder call for the donation so it seems like it just up and disappeared. No sense in leaving without having a needle poked into me. I was able to be a walk-in.

The first nurse that saw me seemed like a total bitch...or it was too early...or she is typically all business...whatever. I sure as hell didn't feel welcome for providing a service to the community. After my health questionnaire, another nurse came in to finish my screening. She was much nicer (and prettier). We got talk a little and she asked about what I was doing when I lived in Japan. Small talk, really but much friendlier for sure. She was commenting about how her eyes were getting old because she couldn't read the keyboard that well (partly because of the glare from the lights). I told her I didn't believe her. I said she couldn't have been older than 28 or 29. She seemed to get a kick out of that.

Coincidentally, that's my standby line when I talk to older women. So far, I'm batting 1.000. Why are dames so easily flattered? Frankly, I like the reaction...and she really didn't look her age, by the way.

Sunday I got back to throwing the baseball. A guy came over and wanted to throw/practice next time I'm there. Eh...I suppose.

Tell me a story...

Out of place... [08 Apr 2007|01:07am]

Went to a late mass with my Mom...it was the second white...er...American mass I've been to in as many years. Again...I felt out of place...more than when I'm in Vietnamese masses.

The first half started off in the dark and lit with candles that everyone was given. Once those were blown out, all I could focus on was the lone candle in the far corner of the church. It randomly danced and streaked back and forth in front of my eyes around masses of blurred shades of grey.

About eight or nine people were baptized tonight. They didn't just get water trickled on their heads...they were almost full-on dunked in the little pool in the back of the church. Their purple robes were soaked. Mom and I didn't know there were going to be baptisms...it made for a much longer mass. Two hours and we were done.

It feels so strange to repeat their prayers. For the most part, I don't try to say or sing much in church...I don't feel that comfortable with it. It almost feels like I'm lying...in church...sure that isn't that good.


I don't think I'll ever get used to it.
1 bathroom scribble| Tell me a story...

Family...yarrgh... [06 Apr 2007|06:25pm]
[ mood | tired ]


My first mistake was to tell my Mom that I was considering central California as a possible place to find a teaching job. I did express to her the caveat of NEVER TELLING ANY FAMILY MEMBERS IN CALIFORNIA I WAS LOOKING THERE. See...my family in California (especially the ones living in the southern area) are leeches. They will get their claws into me and suck my life force dry. I mean, I'm gonna need a certain level of hope and optimism to teach...and my family feeds on that like vampires.

The other day I got a phone call from my Auntie on my Dad's side (who HATES my Mom) ans she talked my ear off about opportunities in Sacramento.

Ok:


  1. She hasn't talked to me in years
  2. She knew that central California was on my employment-area list
  3. She needed something from me


So she talks my ear off about all of the teachers apparently retiring from that area and is trying to bait me into finding a teaching job in Sacramento. "There's such a demand for teachers here." Riiiiigggghhhhtttt.

How convenient that her kids have spring break this week and that she would be visiting Oregon. As luck would have it, her son (my cousin) needs help with writing better essays for college applications...or something like that. So I have the privilege to pick up the slack of his high school teachers and give him some free instruction.

Look...it's Friday...I don't want to think about teaching or English. All I'm concerned with is beer.

This is bollocks, to be sure

Oh, and my Mom stinks with secrets
Tell me a story...

Why do people like me? [11 Mar 2007|08:16pm]
[ mood | depressed ]


*sigh* My last day working at the fitness center today and it didn't make it easier when people tell me they'll miss me. One member gave me a lovely card and told me about her favorite English teacher. She also included a package of red pens. Another member today wants me to send him my resume because he is a former teacher and personally knows the Principal at a certain school in the area...and yet another member gave me a very nice gift (which was hard to accept...I don't act the way I do to earn gifts). Look, I'm not doing anything different from the average Joe. I see people, I say hello, I encourage them to work out. I don't care who they are or what they look like.

What I'll miss most are the kids who come on the weekends for swim lessons or activities. They're so adorable. Here I thought it would be easy.
Tell me a story...

Knock one back for me [02 Mar 2007|05:52pm]
[ mood | calm ]



Cheers to me...for what reason I'm not sure, but I did find a nice beer to drink to (I'll give you one guess why I like it so much)

Tell me a story...

Elektronik Supersonik [10 Feb 2007|11:06pm]
Tell me a story...

Jokes are great [03 Feb 2007|09:46pm]
[ mood | sleepy ]


I like working at the gym on Saturday mornings, despite sacrificing my weekends. The rock gym has climbing for kids from 9 to 11 and Quinn is a little blond climber who always hides from me until I find her. Little kids are awesome. Here's the funniest joke I've heard in a while:

Quinn: Knock knock.
Me: Who's there?
Quinn: Ken.
Me: Uhh...Ke~n who?
Quinn: Ken-in-trouble!

The little girls sitting with Quinn then giggled their brains out...awwww...

Tell me a story...

"Coolness" doesn't pay the piper [30 Jan 2007|12:14am]
[ mood | annoyed ]


I may look cool and I may look like I know what I'm doing, but that doesn't stop me from:


  • Slipping in and out of periods of being oblivious
  • Panicking when I am put on the spot
  • Having the feeling that everyone but me seems to get it
  • Feeling that pre-assessment is well over my head
  • Wanting to integrate my fist into inanimate objects (or certain faces)


IT TAKES ME LONGER TO FIGURE THINGS OUT, SO CUT ME SOME FUCKING SLACK!

2 bathroom scribbles| Tell me a story...

Progress and setbacks [28 Jan 2007|08:19am]
[ mood | confused ]


I think something is wrong...


  • I'm using way too much energy trying to hold myself together
  • Little annoyances seem to have a lasting effect on me
  • I'm too nice
  • I'm too generous
  • My head screams...my mouth closes
  • I care about everyone all the time
  • I'm losing too much weight...apparently
  • Things will be all right, but how and when are killing me
Tell me a story...

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