Yours Truly

For a while, I had my picture posted on my blog. For an extremely brief while. Then I took it down for various reasons -- one, because I felt vain, and secondly, I wanted to remain as anonymous as possible. Of course there are other reasons. But as I see that there is only a steady few readers anyway, most who are hundreds, if not thousands (thanks to those reading from Korea and Australia, among other far away lands!) miles away, I don't see too much danger. If I get the chance, I may do a self-photo, sizeable to fit into one of the columns on the left. This one, obviously too dark, will not make the cut, but for some reason, I really like this photo (taken by yours truly, with my mom's Samsung E715 camera phone). My brother exclaimed, "You look so fat in that picture!" However, when I asked, "Fatter than actual?" He could not reply. So I have to assume that it is a fairly good representation of myself. The image was not altered in any way, as you can see, I am featured in my dorky glasses, the ultimate symbol for my uber-geek status.

Got Pho?

You know, pho is the best comfort food for nursing a hangover. Which I have. Because. I drank. More than I should've.

Those of you who are not familiar with the concept of pho should know a bit about it. Quite a few people find pho repulsive, which is beyond me. However, most find it delightful, and most pho restaurants in this area are open 24 hrs a day to serve the demanding public. Pho is basically a soup with rice noodles. The noodles float around in this steaming hot stew of meat. Then on the side, you get a plate of bean sprouts (yes, to most westerners, it ain't the most delicious sounding food, but please give it a good try before denouncing it awful), onions, cilantro, among other things.

Somewhere on the table should be various bottles of sauces -- most are red, but one should be black. The black one is sweet, and I generally use it on the raw uncooked onions. Believe me, I despise onions. I can't bear the idea of just eating them raw, but somehow, this magical black sauce makes it not just edible, but yummy as hell.

The various red sauces are hot sauce. As demonstrated by Taco Bell's varying levels of hot sauces (mild, hot, fire, etc) people tolerate different amounts of spiciness. I generally go with the medium one, but then I just splurge and pour the damned thing in, making the soup a dark red color. Then I put the sprouts, cilantro, onions, lime juice, whatever else's available, and enjoy.

I guess this would be the oriental (is that a PC word?) equivalent of the chicken soup. I can just see it now... They will translate the "Chicken Soup for the Soul" series as "Pho for the Soul" complete with "Pho for the Mother's Soul" and "Pho for the Alcoholic's Soul" and more. Chicken soup is alright, but it lacks a bit of the phjazz that Pho has. You know, when you're hungover, you're sleepy, you're tired, you feel like hurling again, but the spicy pho soup will just kick your mood up a notch! I should have titled this entry to "Ode to Pho" but oh wells. I'm a bit lazy. After all, I am hung over.

I had a drink (or two, or three) at New York New York, where one of my friends work. We started out with a bottle of beer, and eventually moved onto lemon soju. I got a bit tipsy, and I have to apologize to my fellow Los Angeleans. I apologize for imposing my drunk-driving on all you safe drivers out there. I wasn't too tipsy... just a bit misty. But even then, I should not have driven. My blog does not condone unsafe driving behaviors.

Well, after several rendezvous with the toilet through the night, I feel a little better, but getting Pho to-go for lunch was the best. Well, that's my Saturday so far.

Got Gmail?

I was offered to test Google's new Gmail service, and I jumped at that opportunity. A gigantic e-mail box was just what I wanted! However, then I came across an atrocity: selling Gmail invites on eBay! Since this is limited to a select few, I guess the demand exceeds supply. On eBay, one invite link to Gmail went over 40 dollars. Making money off of this was one thing I didn't expect!

It is fabulous though, to have so much room in your email that you may never have to delete a thing ever again. That's great. Unlike Yahoo.com's e-mail, where I get 4 mbs, and hotmail, which feels less than that (I don't know the exact number). However, if you want bigger e-mail boxes without paying for it, there are ways. It appears that in Korea, many e-mail hosts are supplying users with a bigger space. If you register with yahoo.co.kr, Yahoo.com's Korean site, you will see that the mail box has been increased to 50 MB, which is about 10 times bigger than that supplied by Yahoo.com. At Naver.com, where I have set up my Korean Blog, they first have you start out with a mailbox of 20 MB, and then as you continue to use your mailbox, you gain points. When you accumulate a certain amount of points (which indicates that you will most likely need an increase in storage) you can request to increase the size of the box. I believe it is not limited to a certain number, but given as your need for space increases.

Korea has one of the highest concentration of internet users around the world -- a lot of enhancements are visible when accessing Korean webpages. For example, blogs. While blogspot and blogger.com are kind enough to provide us with these minimal spaces to host our blogs, it doesn't give us anything in terms of hosting multimedia and visual files. Naver, as I have said before, supplies their blog users with an infinite amount of space. They just require that a limited amount of files are uploaded per day, to make sure that they aren't taken advantage of, which is smart. Other blog suppliers are similar. Hanmir.com, Empas.com, all have extremely generous spaces for blogging, as well as cyber cafes, which are like clubs on the internet. So why would one pay for a Gmail? Hmmm....

Now if I could only get someone to invite me to Orkit.com. I'm practically an island on Friendster.com!

Prevent Babies or Kill'em

Source

Plan B, the "Morning-After-Pill" has been shot down by the FDA, in their attempt to go OTC. I'm not an advocate of abortion, but I believe if it has to be done, it has to be done. However, if something like Plan B can ameliorate that situation, by significantly reducing the number of women who falls into that dilemma, we should gopher it. Getting an abortion is not going to be a joyous occasion for any woman. It can even pose a risk to her own life, which includes health risks as well as risks from getting slaughtered by the hands of anti-abortion protesters. If something as simple as Plan B, which obviously is okay to use (since it is available with prescription) can reduce those risks, there is very little reason why we should bar it.

Of course, those wannabe goody goodies who believe that they are upholding the morals of society are against it. I'm assuming mostly men. Going to the gynie is not fabulous. Come on. Putting your feet up in those stirrup things, and exposing your crotch to another human being is an extremely vulnerable thing. And to do that in broad daylight in a fluorescent lit medical office that is friggin' cold as hell? And then to get probed? Whether or not it is uncomfortable, appointments with the gynie should be done every so often, to check for various cancers or possible diseases and such. However, don't make us go an extra time, wasting the time in our workday (thus making us inefficient worker bees), the money, and all that.

Some people don't like the idea that by making Plan B so accessible, we may be sending the message that promiscuity is A-Ok. But people are people, and people will have sex. It may be promiscuous. It may be monogamous. Whatever it is, it is just sex. Same thing with condoms. They used to be so hush-hush and taboo. Why can't you distribute them in front of high schools? Because kids will decide to start having sex since they have condoms? They're having sex already, and like rabbits; they're doing it with or without condoms! Making these things available to people of all backgrounds and ages, will ensure safety among them. Let's say, for example, there is a poor mom, who's having a hard time making ends meet and is busy, running all over the place. She can't just stop her day and go to her gynie, pay for the visit and pay for the pill. Since it is so out of her reach, she may just forgo the whole thing, get pregnant, and voila! There's an even bigger problem on her hands. And to the government's hands, because if she can't support her next child, the government's going to have to. (I'm ruling out abortion, because I really don't like seeing it happen, even in hypothetical situations.)

Over thirty countries have already made it OTC. Of course, that's no reason for us to hop on the bandwagon. But we should definitely reconsider.

NBC.com > Friends

For the second time this year, I am in mourning. Mourning for a television series. How can I express this sorrow? I guess all good things must come to an end, and while I do feel like the timing is right, I just have a hard time letting go of something that's been around for nearly half my life.

Friends started when I started high school in the 9th grade. I was a big geek at the time, even a bigger one than I am now, and even until I graduated, I didn't know what the Peach Pit was. I think perhaps that I was just too young to relate to 20-somethings at the time, but I got to love the show. The six characters embodied something that exists within everyone -- they were personas created out of common human traits, whatever they may be. For example, Joey doesn't share food, which is similar to the extremes with my social dining habits -- I'd rather order an extra side of French fries, than share what is on my plate. My inner uber-geek shares the same love for academia as Ross does. The spoiled daddy's girl who grew up to be a successful and highly independent Rachel, parallels the same coming-of-age rite of passage that I had in my late teens and early 20's. Hiding vulnerability, and finding a nitch with a sense of humor like Chandler is just a part of diurnal life. Compassionate, accepting, and yet strangely out of place, Phoebe shows that even when one feels disconnected or like an outsider, connections can be made. You can sing 'Smelly Cat' and learn to appreciate, not your best talents, but your sense of desire. Even if you make horrible music, you should, and you can, if it makes you happy. She hasn't had the 'normal' childhood experiences, which reminds me the awkward path that I am on now. Sometimes, that's just the way it is. And Monica. Those who do not share her extreme love of order, at least desire it. I know I am extremely orderly, and yet chaos looms just too close. It is as if chaos is thrown my way, so I can organize it.

I will severely miss this show. I have my doubts about the spin-off 'Joey' because I just am not sure if something could be comparable to the original. An original that was so great. That would be like trying to out-do the Roman empire.

The recent few episodes made me cry. Even more so than lame chick-flicks. Friends lived life, as we all did. They grew up, were unemployed, had Thanksgiving turkey, had relationships, had babies, got jobs, switched to second careers, moved out of one apartment and into another, got married, got divorced, adopted two babies, had a Vegas wedding... all of which, at the time, seemed like huge things that will alter life forever. Like when I didn't get into the college of my choice -- it felt like my life was over. But instead, it was just end of one era, and the beginning of the next. Now, I look back, and they are just events, life experiences that happened. They could have made me cry, made me laugh, made me mad, made me grieve, but all of them, have made life richer.

How can I sum up 10 seasons of fabulous episodes, each that touched my heart? It is hard to explain. But as I had parted with the show already, all that is left for me is to get over it. I don't think I could just get over a show of this caliber. Goodbye, Friends.

***I am sad that the show is over. However, I am not insane. I do not believe that Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe are my own friends. I accept the fact that this was a fictitious television sitcom. I could have been exaggerating. There is no need for alarm, nor there is need to call the local mental hospital. Thanks.

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The Mysterious Disappearance of 7lbs

For some reason, in the last couple of days (or at least I think the last couple of days -- I haven't checked my weight in a month or so) I have dropped 7 lbs. It doesn't seem like the scale is broken -- I do fit into my pants a bit easier (i.e. no gasping or hopping around trying to zip up) and my tummy feels a little less chunkier than usual. I'm not exactly in prime mode for a wet T-shirt contest, but still. I wonder if this is actually valid progress, or some gross error by Mother Nature (i.e. cancer, or worse, hookworms, or just water loss from the recent heat wave). I haven't been to gym too frequently, nor have I watched what I had been eating, although I do like to think/imagine that I eat less.

I've also been losing hair. It sucks when a man loses his hair, but it's awfully wretched for a woman to lose hers. My hair falls out like crazy madness in the shower. I used to have a head-full of raging black hair. Now my hair color fades (even after dying it black twice!) to a light brown color, and I have significantly less hair than I used to. The hair strands are also thinner and more prone to breakage and whatnot. It's really putting a damper on my beauty regimen.

For now I'll just not worry and try to be happy for the disappearance of the 7 lbs, and hope that the downward trend continues for a while... at least until I reach about 120 lbs... I mean, I don't want to be emaciated!

As Always, I'm Ranting About The Weather

Weather.com says that it is only 90 F today (32 C), but it feels like somewhere in the toasty region of 95-100. I am sweating profusely, which isn't normal for me, because I don't sweat. It's not my thing. Even after a good workout, I am hardly sticky. I still have the same deodorant I purchased at the turn of the millenium. But today, I'm sticky and sweaty, and my face is beet red. Over the course of the last two to three weeks, I have burned. No longer does my skin appear of Caucasian nature. It is now closer to the vicinities of a Polynesian, perhaps Hawaiian, in color. But the real hot weather, I know, is yet to come.

What is my best friend doing these days? I don't know. We haven't spoken in like three weeks. Horrible, innit? It's her birthday in a month, so I'm hoping I won't forget that one.

Pygmalion was a much more jovial read than Cyrano de Bergerac. Cyrano was good fun too, but Pygmalion was just light hearted and easy flowing. I haven't quite finished it as I was supposed to have, but almost. Having the film, My Fair Lady on hand was definitely a great help, especially since I had so much trouble reading Eliza Doolittle's cockney accent, and all those Awww-oooahhh's. Audrey is fabulous.

Now the last portion of the semester is here. Which means all term papers, semester long projects are in need of a kick off. I have a poetry research paper on a poet.. I was thinking Sylvia Plath, or Thomas Wyatt, or e e cummings. I'll have to consult the instructor on my choices. In humanities, world mythology class, I need to write an essay on the relevance of the Aeneid and the Oddyssey to modern times. There were other choices for myths to write on, but I had to choose the longest ones! Although I had already read Beowulf, I figured that rather than write about something I hate so thoroughly (again), it would be beneficial to get two brilliant classic literatures under my belt: The Aeneid and The Oddyssey. They're epics. They're huge. A van is named after one of them. Definite must reads, if you ask me. So I'll do it. I have an essay exam for my Eng Lit class, on the literature of the Renaissance. Hamlet, Dr. Faustus, among others. Then I also have a term paper for that class, although it hasn't been assigned yet. In Art history, there is yet another project, and this one will be assigned today. I just love Greek art that I really don't want to move on to the arts of other periods. Thankfully, we are transitioning with Roman art. Romans are quite fun too. I really need to learn Latin someday. Macroeconomics is one class that isn't assigning a paper. Thank goodness! Econ class is really light hearted. I am thankful for that, because I was dreading taking econ. It seems such a concrete and severe course. But it's not. Economics isn't rigid; it's very fluid. Unfortunately, the text doesn't make it seem so. If lecture were as boring as the text, I would have just banged my head against the wall and hoped to fall into a coma. Wel, that recaps my semester so far.

It is finally May. I will receive notice of whether or not I got into the nursing program this month. I'm hoping soon. Either way, the looooooong wait is finally coming to an end. The wait is the hardest part, you know. I know even if I don't get in, I'll manage and live, but I just need some sort of divine sign that I'm going to be alright, you know? Something that will make me believe that better days await me. I don't believe in predestination or fate or gods, but sometimes, I just can't but be human. I just want something supernatural, that is above myself, and above anyone else, to say that things are going to look up. Is that really too much to ask?

NBC.com > 10.5

After seeing some initial review on Christopher Delude's Blog, I decided to see the climactic latter half of the four-hour miniseries on NBC. So I missed the collapse of the Space Needle and the Golden Gate Bridge. Watching land split apart and get filled with the ocean water was a massive scene, I can only describe it as apocalyptic. Of course I realize that this is fictional, but you know, a lot of these near-apocalyptic events happen. The aftermath of the So Cal fires of last year, for example. Seeing grey ashes fall from the sky, all day long, isn't the most heavenly scene. The last major quake, the Northridge quake brings back memories of what Mother Earth can do when she's mad. She's got potential. I also remember the scene from the film, Pearl Harbor. Ben Affleck, Josh Hartnett, and Kate Bekinsale did liven up the screen, but I can only assume that the actual event must have been uncomparably more devastating. 9-11, probably the most recent glimpse of an apocalypse (if such a thing actually exists), was all too traumatizing, even when I saw it on the news, 3000 miles away from ground zero, three hours after it's happening. I mean, who can't remember what they were doing, when they first heard about 9-11? It is like how everyone remembered where they were and what they were doing when JFK was shot, only greater.

10.5 as a film wasn't all that great. I'd give it about a 7, 7.5 at best, because it reminded me that people must always remain vigilant. Last weekend, we had warnings of possible terrorist attacks in the local shopping centers. I'm sure the warning still looms over this upcoming weekend as well, since it is Mother's Day, and it's extremely hot, which means many will be flocking to the malls for last minute gift shopping and free air conditioning. While I doubt that people will be selling Barstow beachfront properties for sale just yet, I don't doubt that during my lifetime, I will see several tragic, traumatic events, be it massive, total war (North Korea, despite its recent train explosion, is still clutching ever so tightly on the nuclear weapons, the legendary, mythical WMD), natural disaster, terrorist attacks, and so on. We may think that we are all on the verge of a nervous breakdown from all the stress and prioritizing and work and worries, but these things always remind us how capable we are, and how increasingly adaptable we are and how resourceful we are. However, we must always remember that we will forever be susceptible to these things; we will never be too above them and not be affected.

If, for any reason, we were to evacuate the west coast, or even just LA, I have to remember that all my things will be no more. I'm sure that even my beloved cat, Nabee will be lost, and I may never see her. The computer that contains my soul, too, will be no more. All my books, shoes, mp3 player, car, will all be for naught. Can I really imagine my life without these things? I mean, it's difficult to survive a weekend without internet access! Being always grateful for what I have, and cherish it... that's important.

I guess the important thing right now, at least for now, is to get Pygmalion read, because as long as California is still intact, good literature must be read.

By the way, what was that oddball commercial that was on every single commercial break about how scientists predict that SoCal will have an earthquake greater than magnitude of 6 before September 5 of this year? I think the product was quake hold-up or something. The repetition of that commercial (every 10 minutes or so!) was horrific enough.

Shane

I have a fabulous co-worker, Shane. He's been my co-worker for ages, despite the fact that we moved around several different jobs. Over the course of 5 years, we have become as close as brothers and sisters could be. We've seen each other at work practically daily for the last 5 years, and hang out quite often as well. At work, I often run into problems, minor complications, if you will. Mostly because I've goofed up, or communicated erroneously with a customer due to my insufficient Korean. Whenever that happens, Shane is always there to solve my headaches. Of course, I'd like to think that I do that in return for him.

When Shane got too drunk to get himself home, I was the one who drove him home and carried him up the stairs, and safely home. Which, is no easy feat. Imagine that you are a fragil lady (I'm not as tough as some think), trying to carry a man who is at least 4 inches taller, and approx. 20 lbs heavier, and he's drunk. Up the stairs. And when you're drunk, you don't come quietly. You go struggling, talking, laughing for no reason, wanting to sit on the ground, or even worse, go back to drinking. So in short, we got each other's back. I consider him to be my older brother, because I have none. He considers me as his younger sister, which he has none of. And we get along great. Some people even suggest that we get married. But that's gross -- exactly like marrying your brother or sister. Yuck.

Here's the climax: His birthday was yesterday, May 2nd. Which, I forgot. I was busy watching TV, reading Hamlet, studying art history, and sleeping in. I forgot. I wrote in my organizer, for last Thursday, to shop for Shane's gift. I saw that on Thursday, didn't have time, and procrastinated and put it off until the weekend, and I forgot. I knew that procrastination would come back and bite me in the ass. He's so close and dear to me, and I forgot the day he was born. And of all birthdays, it is his big 3-0. Although he doesn't like it, his life has now spanned over three decades. And it's not like I remembered this morning, either. I didn't remember, until he told me. What a bad sister/co-worker am I.

Now, I have to make up for it big time. I have to make up for the fact that I forgot his birthday, and that the gift is going to be late. Any ideas...?

The Simpsons

Am I glad the strike is over for the cast of The Simpsons. With a whole mass of shows that are now expired or due to expire soon, I wouldn't be able to stand living without the Simpsons. It is the longest running weekly comedy in the US -- thank goodness for longevity. It is one of the few contants in my life.

Pygmalion

The English have no respect for their language, and will not teach their children to speak it. They spell it so abominably that no man can teach himself what it sounds like.
Bernard Shaw

My sentiments, exactly. I've told this story a thousand times, but when I was in the 6th grade, I went into the spelling bee. Please note that I came to the US when I was in the 5th grade, and didn't attend most of the 5th grade for legal problems with the school district. I memorized probably about 80 % of the words on the list that was provided. That list, which went on for pages and pages, contained about 10 times more words than I had in my vocabulary back then. It was a long and mighty list. But I tried, and I didn't expect myself to win the spelling bee or anything, but I assumed I'd get far enough to hear "good job" from teachers and fellow students. It turned out that I flunked out on my first turn. It seems now intensely ironic, although I didn't know it then, because of what that word was. It was "demise." I tried to spell it as "dimise" and got it wrong. Who knew, that the word demise would have been my demise, at least for the spelling bee?

The English language is difficult, although worth the difficulty to learn. It's like learning "Hot Cross Buns" compared to learning a Chopin Nocturne. The Nocturne would be extremely difficult, but worth plenty more than learning "Hot Cross Buns" (which, by the way, is puzzling! What the heck is a hot cross bun... a bun that is hot and angry?). I don't know many languages. But Korean and Spanish, are written as they sound. English is not. And that whole universal pronounciation code alphabet thingamajiggy is even more difficult. When I first saw that conjoined "a" with "e" letter, I just backed out of learning that. Thankfully, I was a bright child and picked up the English language quickly.

Since my complete understanding of the English language I became cocky. It is one of my ultimate pet peeves to see horrific spelling and grammar usages. I probably fall victim of such errors more than frequently myself, but when I see someone write or speak English with bad grammar, it just disturbs me. It may be part of my anal (verging on OCD) personality, but I just can't stand it! I abhor it! One of my most conflicting self-battles is subject verb agreement. Especially since I am writing more complex compound sentences than ever before, it is hard to keep track of that. I am just so prone to saying, "one of the things that bother me are..." rather than using is. I've gotten much better at keeping my errors at bay since my last English class, where good grammar usage was emphasized. Still, I can't manage to grow tolerance for poor English use.

This disease, if you will, has gotten so severe that whenever I hear Clay Aiken's song, I get irritated. "If I was invisible..." he croons. I love Clay Aiken. He has the most dreamy voice! But that song... to me, it would live in endless infamy. Goddammit, it's a song, but it won't lose its meaning, if the songwriter used good grammar!

So I digress. (Hey it isn't be the first time.) I need to get this Pygmalion thing read by Tuesday morning, so I should get started on it sometime today. I just wrote my initial response about the play, based on the title, and the things I read off the back of the cover. Perhaps after Tuesday, I will have something more insightful to say... but for now, here's one quote that I'm excited to get to in the play:

Yes, you squashed cabbage leaf... you incarnate insult to the English language: I could pass you off as the Queen of Sheba.

I think I'm gonna like this one.

The earlier mentioned Revolutionary Etude, by the ever-so fabulous, Chopin. This midi file can't do justice... however, just so that you get a glimpse of my fav composerini.

Reading... for Pleasure

For taking the two English classes and a humanities class, I braced for myself at the beginning of the semester. I know I'll be bombarded with reading assignments, and I'll regret the day I believed in myself, that I could do this. For class, I've been reading short things, long things, plays, poems, myths and legends. One thing I got to read made me forget all that pain: Cyrano de Bergerac.

Mr. Crawford Kilian asked in his blog, Who's Your Literary Crush? a while back, and I have a name to add on my list. Cyrano. He's eloquent. He's divine. He's courageous. He's romantic. He's poetic. If this was not a fictional play... if this were reality... I would have already thrown a pair of my prettiest undergarments at him by Act 1. Could ever a man be so hot in real life?

Rostand character, Cyrano, isn't all that different from all other literary heroes or comic book heroes. After all, each one has a great weakness; Superman's got his thing with Kryptonite, and even King Arthur's got that ominous fate that works against him (i.e. Mordred). Cyrano, like all heroes, has his share of weakness: his nose. It is described as rather grotesque, and it does play a huge role in the first half of the play. In the latter half, we see that a nose is just a nose. He does get the girl, although tragically, he will not be alive to enjoy the fruits of his everlasting love.

I can honestly say that the French are the most romantic. If one can loosely say to leave morbidity to the Russians, well, leave romance to the French. They do it the best. I don't mean romance just in reference to mortal love. I mean romance to encompass all things romantic: passion, adventure, courage... Of course, ironically, the world of romance is often the polar opposite of the world of realism. Alexander Dumas' novels capture that well, and so des Edmond Rostand's Cyrano. And what about Victor Hugo! All of their characters have this quality... they just quench my heart with blood. It is almost painful when your heart extends to that character. They've got my heart on strings like Chopin's Revolutionary Etude(right click, save target as) does. Just makes me sigh. Ahh.