After 3 years of endless ranting, This blog has been terminated, and is currently preserved in mummified state in a jar between the ketchup and the vinegar in my kitchen cupboard.
You can now find me here
One last time...
I'M OUT!!!
One day, 30 years from now, we can sit in front of our kids and grandkids... and say:
"Yes, I was there -- I remember."
A smile on our face, a tear on the cheek, and a heart overflowing with joy.
No matter where you were, whether or not Wolf and Cooper were on your screen, or be it the local newscaster, it is undeniable that we all share this now -- we have all witnessed history, together.
Out with the cliches. It's about time that we stop existing by fear of what is to come. It's time to pick up those rocks and keep swingin'. That slingshot didn't lose its power when Goliath fell. It's still mighty strong to this day.
Keep swingin' people, keep swingin'
Obama took a tiny piece of gravel, threw it up in the air, and millions caught that glimmer of hope. Now it's our turn.
Keep swingin' people, keep swingin'
I'M OUT!
Alright let's set the record straight: I have actually never tried to change my hairstyle since I was 14. Since I had the pineapple hair in JC as well.
In any case, nobody really understands where I get this idea of a hairstyle from. Well I have a couple of things to say. This might be all mixed up and stuff, but I'm really tired now, so I'm just going to say whatever comes out of my head.
One, it IS a 90's boyband haircut. And I still don't see anything wrong with that. Not that anybody has offended me lately, but I've been getting sporadic suggestions as to how my appearance should be.
At the same time, I'm having a bout of nostalgia... not in some emo kind of way, but just the way we used to take in music, how simple melodies and heart-wrenching (what we now call cheesy) lyrics brightened up our day, and in many ways they still do.
Check this one out: it gives a timeline as to which era my hairstyle originated from, and also reminds us of the glory of the 90's:
1997, people. 1997.
And if you didn't know that song, then I feel bad for you. So what if it's a one-hit (not really) wonder? I'm sure at least 30% of you would agree it carries a good tune, and another 30% of you smiled inside. Just a little.
Am I ashamed to say I was a fan of Ant & Dec? Absolutely not.
Does it destroy my reputation in any way?
Heck yeah.
I'M OUT!!!
I'm ADDICTED to this skit. Please if you have 3 minutes to burn, watch it. This basically tells you everything I love about SNL.
Wit. Dumbfoolery. A dash of pretty. Music. Lights.
And Junice. Kristen Wiig why can't you be a decade younger.
Basically, I'm just really tired from school and this is my 3-minute escape from brain activity. ENJOY!
I'M OUT!!!
From today forward, unless it's a serious post, my post titles are going to be completely random -- kind of a flavor of the month thing.
Perhaps it's also prompted by the liberty that I feel over this 5 day break. I completely have nothing in line, so I spent today catching up with all the shows I have yet to watch. Good thing the Internet is making watching TV a much easier thing to do.
Along with this liberty comes an unbridled sense of boredom. Of course, it's welcome now especially after the long arduous midterm season. I think this is the first post I have ever done out of being "compelled" to do so, and not because I have something legitimate to say.
So what's new with me?
1. I have found a new fascination with the "--" punctuation. Maybe it's because it makes essays that much longer, instead of the ; or even the - or merely a , . Whatever the case, whether it is proper punctuation, I like it, and that's all that matters.
2. Went to a live Saturday Night Live taping last night, went insane, and felt like I wanted to get 10 years older in an instant so I can be legitimately compatible with Kristen Wiig. Doesn't happen that much often, but when you're confronted with that much talent and spunk, you can't help but feel young again.
3. Impending ankle surgery. Sign of the times.
4. Going to Buenos Aires for Spring Break. Before you think it's the crrrazy wild Spring Break MTV-beach-holiday-beats-pumping-out-of-my-convertible kind, it's actually a business school trip. Good times. See you in a couple, Argentina.
5. I think I'm a bit more than 2 months away from making my way back to the other side of the world. You know what? All this recession talk has got me thinking -- perhaps there's only 2 things to get out of this. One would be to fly back and hope that markets are better. Of course, easy for me to say, given that it's becoming more and more likely that it's not just a US crisis, but one that is driving everyone mad.
So if that doesn't work, I'm investing my money now so I can build my branch of McDonald's in Mars. My future will be more secure there than here. You can pay me in red interplanetary rocks or meteorites, I don't care. No more greenbacks.
6. Watching the Daily Show with Jon Stewart this Monday with some fellas from work. Work has been insane by the way -- I felt compelled to say that because I've never heard anybody say "work has been amazing" for a while now, so until I hear optimism from this world, you're just going to have to sit back and look at my beautiful face and my gorgeous smile.
What can I say, I'm a good-looking man, blessed with astonishing looks.
Now I just have to work on my height.
I"M OUT!!!
This is too good not to post.
Greg Oden, bless your heart, and I hope you have a great season. Great men like you are hard to come by in the NBA. May stardom never pollute your child-like joy.
I'M OUT!!!
Quite a juxtaposition: a globally significant day turns out to be also a culturally disastrous one.
Of course, it's 9/11. Living in the Financial District has been nothing short of a blessing. My roommate has been wondrous (When recounting the story to my friends, never did I fail to hear the words "you deserve this, Albert"), and being on the schedule all the time makes life that much more hectic.
Walking home the other night from Chinatown, I saw two parallel beams of light shooting up towards the sky, coming from where the WTC once stood. It's really amazing to imagine the resolve of people -how tragedy pulls our hearts together. Imagine how much better it would be if we can stand beside each other the whole day in the subway and feel that sense of togetherness -- like there was a common strand of hope (and even mutual dependence) that ran through us.
Reading A.W. Tozer's "The Pursuit of God", I have begun to realize that the three most dangerous words a man can mutter are "what about me?" and then I once again imagine a world where everyone gives with self-abandon, and everybody makes your life that billionth of a percentage better. Wouldn't that be amazing?
The moment that we realize that we are not created for ourselves, the more we can get out of life. You can disagree with me, but I really feel that living a life looking inwards is futile -- like a comedian trying to make himself laugh. We need an audience of people to pour our hearts into, not in a self-appreciating way; in fact, the more we give of ourselves, the less we can claim to have and possess. And that to me is the ultimate gain.
Today was a perfect testimony of that anti-selfish sentiment. Well, not really, but it's a story worth telling.
This is a story about rice, and the gluttony with which it is associated with in Far Eastern countries.
That, is a standard Chinese takeout box here in America. I'm sure most of you have seen this around. The story begins this morning, when my mind was boggled with juggling my personal 9/11 reflections, getting peeved by froggy voices (another post for another day), listening to my morning Queen adrenaline music, and preparing my mind for the imaging project at work that I need to finish by today (which I did).
Needless to say, it took me the entire morning and afternoon to finish that project. To perfection. Time check: 2pm; Time to go to my Mathematics of Invesment class. Forget about lunch -- my stomach has been mocking me for the past few hours, but I can't bear the thought of my professor staring at me again because of a bad case of food coma.
3:15 pm; got out of the class, ran to work to forage for food. My co-worker had one of those takeout boxes above still full of rice, and a little box of fried cheese-crabstick dumplings (which taste even better than they sound). BUT, being the greedy pig that I am, I wanted my box of rice to be steaming hot.
Trying to be smart, I pointed out to everybody in the office that I WILL NOT microwave the dumplings, because the container was made of foil. Characteristic of a boring afternoon, a 3 minute discourse on why the reflective property of foil causes catastrophic damage in microwaves commences. Alright, that has passed -- mindlessly, I throw in the box of rice in anticipation of steamy white rice and some dumplings.
And then I sensed a spark in the microwave -- the irony. See the picture above? a thin line of wire. That's all it took. A tiny fire broke out in the microwave, and I jumped into action and flung open the microwave door -- blowing (very effectively, as the gusto with which I blew the fire caused some goblets of saliva to dart towards the flame) at the fire, now catching on to the cardboard.
Of course, I had to make do with whatever we had in the office. AH. The watercooler! I grabbed a cup full of water and splashed it into the microwave. And the world was a safe place to live in once more.
Of course, after the smoke cleared.
That experience really humbled me, and I had to throw away the rice. Which prompts the question -- are Asian people REALLY that mesmerized by the thought of steamy little spoonfuls of jasmine white rice -- steam rising to flirt with our nostrils, the texture just tender enough to accompany whatever other food you eat with it through a smooth-saling journey down the Asian gut. Each grain shining like a pearl in the rough, laid against the shining Pacific Ocean.
Yes, we are suckers for rice. (notice I didn't even get to hit the question mark on a sentence which began with the motive of asking a question. I was instinctively led to an answer. What a cultural diaspora)
After all that storytelling, let us flashback to reality for a bit -- please pray for those in Texas, particularly Galveston and nearby Houston. Storm surge is threatening, and I really hope it doesn't take another tragedy to galvanize the hearts of a people.
I'M OUT!!!
