Bao's weblog


Meandering thoughts of a Bay Area college student… be prepared for some bipolar vocabulary

I just realized I got tagged…

Hey, it’s me again. Me just after finishing the Gershwin post. Like, less than 5 minutes after. Looks like I got tagged. What does that mean?

Once you’ve been tagged, you have to write a blog with 16 random things, facts, habits or goals about you. At the end choose 10 people to be tagged. Don’t forget to leave them a comment (”you’re it”). You can’t tag the person who tagged you.

 Okay. Let’s see…

1. I’ve transferred between schools 8 times in my lifetime.

2. I’m Vietnamese

3. I’m CHinese

4. But, mostly, I’m American. Proud of it bitch. Very patriotic. I won’t hear a word from any other country saying how crappy the United States is. Even if the United States does send money, supplies, or any other form of relief by herself to them because they’re too damn proud to say help.

The U.S. has such a raw deal and it pisses me off. WHICH country donates millions of dollars to international disasters? Which country did Europe run crying to during WWII (Nothing against Europe here)? Which country took part in a convoy to aid the population of an enemy? And at the same time, which country has a reputation for being stupid? Which country is considered the most materialistic and shallow? Do they even do research? Many of us are smart, okay? Fuck.

They say we stick our noses where they don’t belong. But once we say we have no part in this matter, we’re criticized for “not caring about the rest of the world” and immediately classified as a selfish nation, or a cowardly nation.

Deviated there. But if you skipped down to here, what the paragraphs really say is: PROUD TO BE AMERICAN BITCH!

5. I’m into jets. Jets, jets, and more jets. The capabilities, the power, the shiny parts! I’m also into unique paint designs on these things. Fighters = exhileration

6. I play the piano. I consider it as a last resort if I can’t get a decent job. There’s always performing and teaching.

7. I’ve never depended on friends as much as now.

*shall insert group picture here when group picture exists*

8. Lately I’ve been having very terrifying dreams. I don’t know what to make of it. Some of them are so exhilerating though, it makes me want to keep them.

9. Looking at Eddie’s post for reference and reading more closely at his facts, I found out that Eddie kissed Marcus. Eddie kissed marcus. My eyes!

10. The closest I’ve ever gotten to suicide was drawing blood as I took a knife, held it under my chin, and prepared to thrust upwards.

11. I owe Eddie $8. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. =D

12. I’m really excited for French 4. Don’t let me down guys. Friends in French 4: Martin, Kelvin, Cassandra, Kevin, Sam. Gee, that doesn’t sound like much when I list them.

13. Airports at night are very exciting for me. My dream vacation always begins with us as a group carpooling to San Francisco Intl. (HAS TO BE THAT ONE) at 9 or 10 at night, each holding tickets and bags for the flight that leaves at 1 in the morning.

14. The first thing I’ll get when I move into my own house is a dog.

15. My favorite restaurant is Benihana.

16. I love American, Japanese, Italian, and French food.

There ya go! And in turn, I’ll tag Chris, Van, and Sam if she reads this.



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Why is everyone’s post so darn short!? I come home, beneath 100 degree weather, holding coconut milk in front of the pc looking for something good to read, and the 3 new posts I get are so short!

Anyways, thank God that there’s no community service tomorrow, because I have a huge camping trip to a attend and it should be a blast. Senior year, despite what many told me, is already hard. And the retarded part is the colleges won’t see those grades til they’ve rejected me. And I gotta look for a new job. And someone isn’t happy at all. And I gotta get started on college apps! Should be a cinch though. Already brainstorming =D

And I’m starting on a major project regarding piano: Rhapsody in Blue by Gershwin. I hate it already. My teacher warned me that whatever piano arrangements out there are bound to be advanced, even the easiest ones.

But DAMN! Behold the VERY VERY first measure.

The mortals among us who do not know piano will have no idea what any of this is. They’ll not know either, for that matter, what all the fuss is about.

But others among us, only in high school, can look at this and totally sympathize with me. Thanks guys.

It’s gonna be soo hard I just know it. WTH does that “tr” followed by the horizontal wavy line mean? How can anyone put a bird’s eye above a rest? What the hell is this madness?  But… I did choose this piece particularly (WHAT!? 0_0) so it’s totally my bad if I pull an epic phail… even if I think that learning this will be totally worth it.

And then show it off to my uber competitive, arrogant, bitchy, (ugly) Asian cousins.


Filed under: General, ,

A perfect vacation

Si j’avais assez d’argent et quand je finis les classes d’architecture dans ma universite prefere, je voudrais voyager en France avec mon bande de copains. Il y a beaucoup de choses que je veux faire avec leurs.

Nous arriverons au San Francisco intl. Si possible, je veux notre vol decoller apres minuit ou un heure. (It’s much more exciting for the flight to leave at 1 in the morning doncha think??) Je vais apporter mon iPod, un appareil-photo, un blouson (il va faire froid dans l’avion), beaucoup de bon bons (!!)

Well yeah, I typed the begining in french because that’s EXACTLY where I’d like to go (crap, I wish I knew how to make the accent marks). I wonder how la vie de Francais would be like.

Of course, going to a country for the sake of just being in the country wouldn’t make for an awesome vacation. That’s how a lot of my vacations go and that’s one mistake I shall not make. But what is there to do on the bustling streets of Paris? How about sending post at the Tour d’Eiffel? Or have lunch there if we have the euros. And then, ROADTRIP. How about all the way down to southern France? Hang out at the sandy beaches next to the Mediterranean. Play some American frisbee or some beach volleyball.

And if we get totally bored, there’s always talking really loud in English. Or just asking French people for directions. Or grab a bite at the French cafes. Wandering around in France seems like a fun way to get to know France better.

Getting lost in some European city as… European… as Paris. Sounds awesome.


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I feel like writing something

Last night, I was once again bombarded by several odd dreams that were stuffed with suspense, disbelief, with a small splash of the mundane. As if it’s a recipe for some kind of weird psychological hunger.

I was staying over at a friend’s house. Okay, this is the first weird part, as the person I was staying with, though my age, was no one I knew. She’s 17, middle-eastern I think, and had just stumbled onto an ingenious invention of a new kind of blinds that you put over your window. Random, eh? Later that night, two amateur culprits wearing black entered and trespassed the house, taking the two of us hostage. With little time wasted, they escorted us into my friend’s room and had trouble closing the doors. (It was a big room and there were double doors, like the storage room in the community room at Tully library) Worried about my chances to escape, I walked over and assured to them, “Guys, guys, it’s good! Here I’ll close it!” and, reassured, the two culprits gave me a happy smile, and walked off, but not before warning me not to leave the room or else facing dire punishment. Unafraid, I decided to wait for five minutes, before walking down for a glass of water. They said “Hurry up,” and “You’re lucky it’s us guarding you. A few more hours and this big guy will take over.”

Then I went back up to the room and closed the double doors that barely close whatsoever and opened the huge window that my friend was trying the blinds on. We opened the window and walked to freedom!

Second dream involved myself driving a black Mercedes Benz that has an unresponsive brake and a sprinting engine that’s clearly on steroids. You piece together the rest >.<

This summer was extraordinary to say the very least. So many emotions ran high. New experiences were felt(or at least, old ones rediscovered). New people were met. History was made, concentrated into a span of two weeks, and there could will be more. And probably best of all, future plans have been made which totally proves that the end of summer does not equal to the end of the world for juniors in high school. So Bao. Looking back on these past two months, what have you done that made this summer special?


Filed under: General

Sorry guys

but my house has lost all its internet, so I’m quite isolated from my blog. I’m here right now at my relative’s house with crappy dialup internet for one person (well two, but I can’t get on AIM and I don’t know if she’s on it even =[ ) : Chris.

So a happy belated birthday to Chris, another close friend
Another person set in birthday poem, oh boy is it becoming a trend
Funny, witty, trippy, sarcastic
Sunny, cunning, strangely bombastic

Drumming his fingers on the desk
He makes guns and bazookas with his fingers best
Upgrading them and pointing them at me so
And I point back, oh what fun (maybe you could give it a go?)

He’s into computers, guns, and games
Things weren’t as interesting before Chris came
Things were in fact, a bit more… lame
If you forgot… Chris is his name (haha, I dont’ know what else would rhyme >.<!)

But anyways, I digress, and oh look at the time
Before I go, there’s one last sentence to sum things up

Chris is soo fine

..ohh so fine.

Worth way more than a dime?

If you don’t agree, gee it should be a crime!

MUahahhaha, I totally slaughtered this poem. But, in the name of Chris, who’s totally hilarious and brings a bit more humor into my life, a poem like this should as well be dedicated to such a funny person.

Happy belated Birthday Chris.

Filed under: Birthday poems, General, , ,

After my previous poem, this one feels like it should be in a Dr. Seuss book… =P

If you’re searching high and low
For someone really fair
Relax, there is someone you should know
Someone who really cares

I haven’t seen her several days
She was last wearing red
At times she may seem quite a bit crazed
Though meeting her, you shouldn’t dread

At school, I hang out in this group
A group that she’s also with
We’re so carefree, we’re hardly troops
Not one single, little, itsy bit

And as you know, poems are just for friends
With birthdays that I have missed
A final chance to amend
At least… that’s how it is in gist

So, there shall be no more delay
I think you oughta know
That I wish a late happy birthday
To Cassandra!

I hope you didn’t think this poem blows.

Happy belated birthday Cassandra! Whoooo!

Filed under: Birthday poems, General, , , ,

Reminding me of you…

Walking in rain, watching drop after drop hit pavement
Only reminds me of you
and your likeness for raindrops

Arriving on campus, eyeing the towering buildings
Only reminds me of you
Happy with your other family

You’ll always be in my heart
In my mind

Shuffling through the cold, miserable all over
Only reminds me of you
And the time you lent me your mittens

Looking at candles, smelling their wonderful scents
Only reminds me of you
And the birthday I shall have to miss

You’ll always be in my heart
In my mind

And now, back at home, writing this poem
Trying to do it justice, trying to make it live up
To make it worthy of you

And I… can’t.

There are no words as precious, as fulfilling
As you, just you…
I guess… all I really have to say is…

You’ll always be in my heart
In my mind


Happy belated birthday Christine

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San Franciscan life… [Warning! Extremely long post! Warning!]

*Look at the goddamn birds! NO shield!



*…Alright men! The Javelin’s the key! It’s gonna be a tough kill! Prepare the Gustav…

Recognize the lines? I heard this scene 24 hours ago as Tom Cruise was having a fustrating conversation with a National Guard C.O. during the final minutes of War of the Worlds. After that, my cousin and I stayed up until one watching 10,000 B.C., a supposedly “epic” film. 15 hours ago, however, was an entirely different story as my mom, three of my relatives from Virginia, and I, are sitting on a 3-car BART train en route to the internationally famous city of San Francisco. Ahh, San Francisco, just one of those cities that parents always take out-of-state/out-of-country relatives to.

The first order of business was to eat. So off we went to the nearest Dim Sum. And God, it was totally delicious. The architecture! Man!

Its architecture vaguely reminds me of Europe. The brickwork, the pillar supports. The green plants. Looks so clean. And bright. I wouldn’t mind making this a living room.

Oh yeah… the food. Yes, the food was delicious, too.
The way everything was arranged, you’d think you were eating gourmet. This isn’t at all the theme I was expecting from a Dim Sum place. Nevertheless, the dishes were every bit as Asian and its satisfying taste proved it. The most tastefully arranged dish I was especially interested in was the seafood, shown right. How rich and buttery the fish was. And the texture was so smooth and seems to melt in your mouth. The epitome of a mouthgasm. I longed to enjoy the food so, but alas, my effort was in vain. Why? Well, in short, I was literally being force fed. My mother kept ordering plates and plates of food, making my three other relatives and myself just less than slightly annoyed.

After the lunch, our main efforts were directed towards a rendezvous with more relatives that came earlier. But what fate had in store for us, unfortunately, was certainly not our long desired meeting with the rest of the group. However, such a disappointment could not go unpaid, as stated by the governing laws of karma. After the dawning realization that we would not meet with the others, I became obsessed with finding… the black guy.

The black guy, elusive as gazelles, and just as nomadic. But also, with the hunting capaiblities of an Eddie. Do you know who I’m referring to?

Well, also known as “guy with the fake bushes, he’s somewhat become a tourist attraction. He would basically hide behind his bushes and, when the moment is right, spring the trap… and try to scare the CRAP out of you. He draws huge crowds, and works for the money. Homeless, too. Fate, however, didn’t even let us find him. Instead, it got us a much juicier deal. Regardez!



Haha, yes sir! A police foot chase, and its aftermath, succesfully documented by my pearl white Casio camera, along with countless others. So, newly discovered cousin… welcome to San Francisco. I think she enjoyed her first look at a police foot chase. I certainly did. Are those shades standard issue?

After the exciting development, and letting the realization sink in that we probably won’t meet up with everyone else, we decided to go window shopping. To me, however, it just seemed like walking. Walking towards the ends of the Earth. Then making a fat-ass U-turn. Pretty soon, my cousin and I would take any chance we had of just giving our legs a rest.

After hours of window shopping, the plan was to ride on San Francisco’s famous cable cars. Before that, however, was a quick pit stop at Starbucks. Ordering a tall caramel frappuccino and a grande mint mocha chip frappuccino, we took our well deserved break before waiting in a huuuge line that stretched an entire block almost. I was spared from a twentieth of the wait, however, due to an unforeseen bathroom break on my part. But before long, our cable car came and, lo and behold, my first cable car ride (and my cousin’s) begins.

Part 2. (Holy fuck, yeah. A part 2. Damn this post is long.)

 Round and round the cable car ride goes. Where it stops, no one knows. While I was sitting on the cable car, I was on the edge of my seat not just because of the bumpy ride that made my seat vibrate as hell, but the question of “Jeez, where do I get off? I don’t wanna be stuck up here!” And of course, some of the drops looked killer. San Francisco streets are famous for these kinds of drops, but they look even more intimidating on fucking dinky cable cars. Not to mention that these cars are close to a hundred years old!

Anywho, our main goal was to visit Union Square. Heard it’s beautiful during Christmas. Little did I know that we were there to shop at… Macy’s! Hell, I didn’t even know what Union Square even is! Even though I didn’t think I’d like shopping, it was fun either way, in a sleepy kind of way. I vaguely remembered pointing to the 4th floor to my cousin when she was looking for hats and scarves. So little I knew about shopping, I blink twice… and realized that the 4th floor was for delicates. Hahaha, how hung over I was. I didn’t even notice it at the time! Just a sleepy, “Ooops, maybeit’s5thfloor…” Well obviously half asleep the instant I went through the doors, I decided to sit around and play with the camera.

From the tourism guide to San Francisco to my incredibly hung over looks, you could tell that I was having a little too much fun with the camera. Ah well, at least the gals were having fun. By the time shopping was over, it was half past seven and I started asking what was for dinner. Not hungry, but extremely intriqued by the surprise stop at Dim Sum where the food was awesome! Dinner, while not as elaborate and expensive, was, perhaps, even better! Thick and creeaamy New England clam chowder, fresh and warm, in a sour-dough bread bowl, was the perfect remedy to an increasingly deteriorating weather outside. The food court wasn’t at all shabby either. Imagine…

ALL of THIS. Such a formal food court… underneath the Macy’s! Also available was Mexican, Japanese, American, so much more… topped with a Jamba Juice and a Ben and Jerry’s! And it was so warm, so clean. Totally woke me up.

So by this time, it was becoming quite chilly. It was, finally, time to head back to base via BART. This time, due to the food, I was once again, pleasantly drowsy. But no time for that. Battling through the San Franciscan night life, in fifty degree weather, kept me awake. Another hour on a train, topped with another hour in the car, awaited me as we rode down the escalator to the subway. Ah, did I mention another half hour for just waiting? I didn’t mind as much, though.

Such a long day of walking, shopping, sights, smells, tastes, and sensations only a person can enjoy got me already reminiscing about the one day, this day, that made my worries transparent. Time spent with family, a family whom I’ll never meet again for two whole years, whom I still barely know, was such a blast.

Talking on the subway car, watching a jerky Tom Cruise in “War of the Worlds,” in the van, finishing it with a much smoother version at home, and watching 10,000 BC ’til one was how my day and my cousin’s finally ended. And the next day would be the day which marks a return to the mundane, leaving behind a wake of sadness, though cheerful good-byes.

At least I still have friends to enjoy my life with.

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What do surgeons do if there’s an earthquake during an operation? Like, right in the middle of the operation, a 5.4 earthquake hits and it must be a crazy feeling. The patient is unconscious, put to sleep and is totally helpless under such dire circumstances. What then?

The first step is to push away all of the monitors that might fall on the patient. Makes sense.

The second part, which I find kind of eerie, is for the primary surgeon to put himself over the patient. The other surgeons put themselves over the main surgeon (there’s more than one people wearing green right?) and then for the nurses to put themselves over the surgeons. What’s the logic behind this? To protect the surgeon and patient of course. If it comes down to the worse, the surgeon must finish his job… alone. Whoa. I’ve heard people compare it as being in battle. You always protect the most important person.

This shouldn’t be true in a group of friends. A group of friends shouldn’t have a hierarchy. The main reason behind having a hierarchy is to establish a clear chain of command. Dictatorships have hierarchies. The military has an hierarchy. Should friends? In a group, everyone should be equal. There shouldn’t be an asshole lording himself or herself over the lower minions.

“Hey you. Buy me fries!”

“Burn in hell bitch.”

“What you say to me!?”

“.. I-I’m sorry for my totally unfounded outburst. I’ll be right back with your fries Your Mightiness.”

I had this brutal dream yesterday as my captain and I raced accross the finish in a flurry of white sails and a large, trailing wake behind our small, American sailboat. We placed first and qualified for the next round of boat racing in the Beijing Olympics! In only a span of a few hours rest, the next round began… and yielded the same results. The small American sailboat is the first to cross the finish line, leaving in our wake the sad, multinational competition that, really, isn’t all too much competition. Well, the captain was exremely happy with me and treated me to some Chinese food. (Well, it’s probably just food over there.) After paying for the bill, she got up, and returned to the hotel. I was about to follow suit when my parents came over.

“Bao, it’s time to go home. We have family over remember?”

Ah, the anger. The disgust I felt. Can’t they see that this may be the most important moment of my life? I protested. I argued. I compromised saying we must be back in Beijing as soon as possible. Then I stormed off in search for the officials to find out when the next race is. I went onto our boat. No dice. Odd, they should be there inspecting the boats. I went into a random shack… and saw a corpse, it’s face expressing horror and resignation. What could this mean?

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