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

If you plan on reading all of this word for word… good luck! =P

It’s going to be my first stream of consciousness in ages, and probably the first one ever not to have a passcode. I’m probably going to write nonstop with no regards to length, be it very short or very long. So where to begin?

The ecstasy of passing with flying colors with the toughest examiner in Alma has already faded into the past. Whenever I drive with my dad, the quality of my skills decreases by like 200 percent. Driving with him is automatically associated with pressure, unneeded pressure. I start to make mistakes even when I think about driving with him. I don’t know if my parents noticed, but they’re making me a worse driver than I was before. I probably won’t be able to pass if I take the test now.

Yesterday, I went on a four hour tour in San Francisco. Tours are informative. Tours are boring until the very end. You don’t appreciate how much you’ve seen until twenty minutes before the tour ends. Then you look back and think “damn!” The tour was sort of eventful. On our way down from Twin Peak where you could see the entire city of The City by the Ocean, the top deck (where I was seated) noticed that we left two people behind. Thinking about it now makes me laugh, but back then, I don’t think anybody really cared.

Really? Well at least no one was willing to go to the tour guide and give him the news. So I’m like oh wtf and went down myself. There’s initiative for you, Eddie. Whether it was Eddie’s influence or the no man left behind mantra made famous by the Army and countless movies… So we went back to Twin Peaks, picked up the two stragglers, and I became a five minute hero. Sorry Eddie, but you make taking initiative seem so overrated.

I’ve also developed a habit of mentally speaking to myself, especially when criticizing others. It’s increased since break started because I’m cut off from the rest of the world and am agitated. Now I think about it, it sounds like a broken record. Nothing but holy shit get me the fuck out of here, how do I tell them that they’re acting gay without hurting their feelings, god fucking damn shut up SHUT UP.

I haven’t posted lately because I’ve been telling myself there’s nothing to talk about. Totally untrue. All of these mindless chores gives me tons of time to think about whatever. Today while stacking dishes, I thought about War of the Worlds, the Hollywood version. The kid talks to Cruise that all he wants to do is dump the kids back to their mother so he only has to care about himself. “And that’s the way you like it,” says he with an awful finality. How would I like it?

In my current mood, yes, definitely. Just take care of myself, don’t have to worry about carrying the burdens of others. Haha, no no, your group seems nice and prepared and all (How do I tell them that they’re acting gay without hurting their feelings?) but I’d like to be alone. How about we make a trade and never see each other again?

But then, I’ve always had a phobia for being the last person on Earth. Right… that makes my life soo much easier to contemplate.

I used to enjoy group projects. I still mostly do. Now, my mind is like tainted with distrust. I prefer to work alone. Get my A’s that way. Then people got this bright idea of “teaming up” with me and declaring my project a “group project.” (How do I tell them that they’re acting gay without hurting their feelings?) So that just means more work for me. It’s happened so much it’s a part of life now. I don’t really mind, because more work means more preparation. Well, it’s been better lately and now I’m the one slacking off as they “repay me.”

My increasing sense of rivalry doesn’t seem to have any bounds, especially in my French 4 class. You could call that a good thing. But it’s been hurting some of my friendships. I think I’ve alienated Cassandra and Kevin, perhaps even Martin for awhile. I knew it. I didn’t care. Just get your damn A and make up later. I don’t think it’ll let up anytime soon. Cassi and Kevin will continue to be alienated as I strive to achieve better grades. There’s not much I can do about it, or nothing I can think of right now. At least, nothing that won’t sacrifice my grades. Cassi’s voice still echoes in my mind. Have I done anything to offend you? You always act so cold and snappish. You’ve forgotten distant, Cassi… She mentions distant later on, so yeah.

I feel like I’m slowly changing to something I hate. But I know that something is going to be stronger, faster, and perhaps more efficient than what I am now. And I bet it’s going to be cruel. Shooting at your enemy when he/she’s already falling in flames cruel. Already, the coldness is becoming the default attitude whenever I meet someone. It takes a lot of effort to try and start to give them a decent chance to be someone I like. Thankfully, after that, it gets easy. I guess there’s still some part of me that’s compassionate and social no matter how small. You’re so fighting a losing battle.

I guess I fail to realize that there are things that should be done in groups. Even if it’s big and you think you can finish it single handedly. I fail to realize it until the very end, when I feel like I’m drowning and while I start to harbor this anger at this injustice and indecency towards my group who are getting ready for bed or chatting away on AIM about what seems to be the most trivial subjects. Well, I wouldn’t know. And to think, I was the one that isolated myself from the rest, no matter how willing they are to help.

And then Cynthia came along. Maybe she understands. I’m so damn glad she’s here and now I feel like crying through happiness because… because in the midst of the sleeplessness, the drowning, the helplessness, she’d reach out and help me through. Proofread some, correcting, staying up until the morning with me. Just guiding me in for a safe landing when all I’ve ever told my group was to back off. How does she know? It’s like my mask is inpenetrable to everyone but her. And now, her boyfriend dumped her and she wants to die. And I feel so bad. If she dies, I wouldn’t have repaid her for what she does for me. It’s not fair how the nice people always loses. It’s not fair that the brave ones die first in battle and the cowards that stay back still live.

Exasperated. Yes, that’s the word I was searching for this whole time.

Maybe to achieve better grades, you must at times isolate yourself from distractions, such as other people that try to make contact with you. People like Cassi and Kevin should know that better than anyone else. And honestly, they do act distant from my point of view. And automatically, my mind begins to generate words such as selfish and hypocritical. Wtf’s wrong with me??! I know they’re not, or at least not intentionally. One thing I strive to do is to NOT be hypocritical. Because those people make me puke.

So do people that talk really loudly for attention. God, I hate those people too. Being alone does have its treasures, and I haven’t fully appreciated it until I don’t have loneliness anymore. What I don’t like about my family is that they don’t know when I need to be alone. And now with all this fighting, I don’t even want to see people right now.

I also hate people that are really physical. Unfortunately, that’s one part of me that will always remain hypocritical. I’m always looking for some good excuse to hit someone in the face or kick in the gut. Whenever I see mean people taking advantage of others not up to me to decide, but still, I always walk over and argue while thinking Please hit me, please hit me, please oh god PLEASE HIT ME! And somehow, they never do, but just step aside. There are too many battles easily won. And “right” wins again.

Ecstasy, exasperation, sadness, anger, fear, anxiousness, depressed, worried, disappointed, and somehow, apathy. I don’t know how I feel all of these things all at once.

Teresa told me that things aren’t supposed to make sense when you’re angry. I’ve never heard anything so wise. But am I really angry? I really hope I am. Life would be that much easier when you only have one emotion at a time. But ten

Cheers.

Reading through all this makes me sound like a prick. I’m sorry if I offend anyone, but this is just how I am when I rant nonstop. But I guess I really am angry, so for now… I’m sorry if I offended you. But not sorry for thinking all of this.

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Filed under: General, , , , , , , ,

Happy birthday!

Thank you for all that you’ve done. Thanks for watching over me, and being there with me through the best and worst dips in my life. It’s been a wild ride so far, so please forgive me if I haven’t been talking to you as often as I should. But I guess I always know you’re there, your presence comforting and majestic, whether I’m taking a midterm or just hanging out with my friends. You’ve done so much for me, saved my life more than a few times… there’s like no adequate way to repay this. I guess I’ll just strive to spread the love huh? Isn’t that my mission in life? Isn’t that why you planned for me to switch up to nine different schools? Haha, well I have been spreading your religion. Whether people are buying it or not, that’s a different story. But I’m trying. I’m pretty much just flowing through my life right now, no longer trying to swim against this current that’s messing with my life. I’ll see you around.

Happy 2008th birthday. And merry Christmas…

~Amen

Filed under: General

That last post…

was utter crap. Who’d have time to think SA SA SA SA SA when they’re so damn nervous? Where’s the time interval to think don’t you screw up! when you’re driving? I was totally nervous today so much that when I got out of the parking lot, I was told to turn left. Somewhere in my mind, a fuse burst and I was gonna turn… right??!

Wow, you should’ve seen the look on my examiner’s face. How about a smile from amusement and disbelief? Mocking? Comforting? Perhaps both. And, well, that’s how the first few feet went on my driving practical exam.

Very sauve.

And supposedly, this guy is supposed to be the hardest and most strict examiner in Alma (but pretty cool and friendly). My quick briefing on the route to take was a complete waste of time, because it turned out the guy makes the route like a maze and as opposite as the default routes as opposite can get. Turn at the green. Turn left at the corner. Pull in here. Back up. Get out. Make a left at the stop sign. 0_0 The last thing going through my mind was SA because when you’re into it, looking at the mirrors and blindspots become second nature.

So I think it’s really funny because I got my license several months after Martin, and I still can drive people legally before him. >D (Like, right away)

And with a mere three errors, I totally pwn at this now.

There’s a party tomorrow and I have another buche de noel to make. Watch the log turn to slop >.<

Filed under: General

Permit de conduire

Okay. Okay. Tomorrow, I’m getting picked up at 7 a.m. to take the driving practical examination. God, no one even calls it that… I can get really technical when I’m nervous.

Well, I’m only kind of nervous, yet confident at the same time. I hope my parking skills are up to par and that I won’t flip out and do something retarded. This guy in my class gave me an awesome perspective towards it: Just try not to screw up.

Genius.

I’ve kept looking at driving like another SAT test. Getting points for good ones and deductions for errors, perhaps even an automatic fail. I’ll look at it as lives now. I’m a cat! Nine fucking lives. Damn, I probably won’t be allowed that much.

This fighter pilot that flew F-18s for the Marines during Desert Storm told me a few years ago about what military pilots call S.A. Situational Awareness. If you don’t have it, you’ll die. I hope I won’t be too distracted tomorrow. Gotta have SA… SA SA SA SA!!! I’m going to be repeating that in my head tomorrow.

I guess I’ll be going over the handbook a few more times before today ends.

Filed under: General

Life In-Creases Chapter 3 at Evergreen, California

“No Martin! Christians are not delusional and it’s disgraceful for you to even think that!” mockingly yelled Saurav as three teenagers walked into a local sushi restaurant. Dining customers’ heads swiveled at the source of words. The waitress winced on the inside. This could not be good for business. From experience, usually teenagers that come in spend the most money. Especially this bunch. They can become rowdy, but they know how to be polite. The chubby one’s bill makes it all worthwhile anyways. She donned a confident and amiable smile and walked over. The chubby one was still talking.

“What the hell Saurav! I never said that!” whippishly and lamely retorted Martin, who, in actuality, never really did say that. Not today at least.

“Good afternoon,” simmered the waitress. “Party for three, yes?”

“You got it,” said the silent one with a smile. As the waitress led the three teenagers to their tables, she was partially
reassured with that smile. Some can always change she thought. “Well go fuck yourself!” suddenly shouted the chubby one to the Indian.

Damn it all.

**

The waitress led us to the table and we sat on the old, torn seats. Meet two of my best friends, Saurav Agrawal and Martin Nguyen, playing an age old game of blame and deceit. Martin, is perhaps, the most radical person I’ve ever met, on the outside that is. It’s a sense of humor that requires some getting used to once you know he doesn’t really mean it.

“Ha! Look at that delusional guy talk like a lunatic. He must be Christian! Silly Christian!”
“Damn I’m hungry. Saurav, sweat a bowl of curry for us!”
“What Saurav? Sorry, all I ever hear from you is curry curry curry.”

Saurav, my other friend, can also be your typical immature American highschooler. Intelligent but humourously cruel, nothing can ever stop him from cracking yet another insult… in a voice that carries like a politician.

“Oh dude, do I feel an earthquake coming? Oh, it’s just Martin”
“No Martin, that teacher is not fat! How could you even think that?”
“No wonder your legs are so tired Martin. Just look at what they’re trying to hold up.”

It’s perhaps one of the great mysteries of the universe how well Martin and Saurav get along together, an anomaly that will have psychologists and Nobel Prize winners scratching their heads for generations. And then there’s me, Bao. Well, you’ll get to know me better as time goes on.

Martin and I just got out of French 4, the most advanced French class offered at Evergreen Valley High School. Every Thursday, we’d go out and eat away from school. This class is one of the most tedious classes offered in my opinion, but we’ve had time to get used to it.  Still, the perfect way to release the stress that came with the two hours of French was to escape. And escape we do. Escape to hilarious conversations and mindless laughter. But things change.

“I’m telling you guys, this won’t work. If we don’t act fast, people will die.”

Filed under: General

Exhilerating

(As of 5:51 p.m., July 21st, 2009,  this post has received 1,803 views. Dunno why this particular entry has been so popular… any of you guys reading this right now care to share? 0_o/=P/ =O )

A squadron of F-22 Raptors were flying in a delta formation across the Atlantic. It was a bright night with a full moon, in moderately cloudy conditions. It started out as an uneventful flight for me. We just finished grabbing fuel off of a USAF KC-10 Extender and were on a vector towards an airbase in Germany. There were six F-22s. I was the fourth one on the right, looking straight ahead through the HUD. Suddenly, my receiver crackled, followed by a chilling transmission.

“Holy shit! What the fuck! Get the hell off me!” a pilot screamed. Alarmed, I looked over and saw that the F-22 furthest to my right was very unstable. It made several severe pitch oscillations as it flew, nearly colliding with another fighter.

“Oh my God, Kevin! What’s your status? What’s-”  Suddenly, its cockpit went dark and the fighter nosed down. Shakened but resolute, we continued. But less than a few seconds after, another F-22, the second furthest to the right, was wobbling, reminiscent to the first Raptor that was lost. Before anyone could speak, the cockpit went dark and the fighter drifted away in a graceful bank against the full moon. Not a single scream was heard in our headsets. It’s just like he was never there. Right after the second pilot lost contact, the third F-22, the one to the direct right of me darkened. Without warning. No more light or sound transmitted from that aircraft as it continued to fly in formation, like a dead ghost. I was trembling. 1st Raptor on the right goes dark, 2nd Raptor on the right, 3rd… my god. I was next.

In panic, I disengaged the autopilot, slammed my throttle forward,  and engaged my afterburners. My two Pratt and Witney turbofan engines spun at 100 percent thrust. I broke formation, climbing as high and as fast as I can. I felt sweat as I was shaking and struggling to breathe. My fighter nosed up dead vertical and continued flying towards the starry heavens. The g’s were pressing down hard on my chest, as if some monstrous invisible hand was intent on crushing me. Suddenly, I felt something on my leg, followed by a cracking noise. I looked down onto the cockpit floor… and saw a woman paler than the moon with eyes concealed in the shadows of her eye sockets. She was on my ankle, climbing up on my legs while clinging my olive green flight suit. Her mouth opened and an eerie creaking noise flew out of her mouth to bombard my ears. I could do nothing with the g-forces ramming me into my chair. 

I shoved my joystick down to level out my Raptor and cancel the restraining g-forces, than rolled inverted to throw her off. Hell broke loose. Dark sky and clouds played the blue ocean and the ocean took the sky’s place. I heard the turbofans whine in protest as the plane wobbled while I was shoving her away, elbow knocking on my joystick. The engines quit. The electrical systems failed and all went dark in my confined cockpit. Except for her. She glowed as bright as the pale white moon. The last vision I saw was her face inches from mine, coldness radiating like the light from the warm golden sun or like the dread from my heart. She tore off my oxygen mask… She lunged.

f_22_raptor_1 f22_cockpit

ju-on afg-080505-005

And I woke up sweating.

 

This was the price I had to pay while I watched The Grudge with Teresa and Xi.

I had a lot of fun writing this post. I’m really proud of it.

Filed under: General, While I sleep, , ,

Counterattack!

I’ve read two posts in a row with Youtube music videos of love: 525,600 minutes and color schemes. Enough music for today right? Carolling practice was enough for one day. So… I propose two videos (1 to counter each) that are polar opposites of deep, music videos: shallow comedy. Go nuts!

If this is just your average Japanese rent-a-cop… what can you expect from the best!? =O

Punchline translation, round 1: And you were betting on him.
Punchline translation, round 2: Bet you thought he’d get away with it this time.

And to finish it off, an awesome Target commercial

Hope you enjoyed!

Ohhhhh…. okay, one more. So I can pull ahead!

Unlike what’s suggested from above, Vader can be cruel.

Okay, NOW it’s done.

Filed under: General

The perfect number

I got to drive to Silver Creek Square today and spent an hour at Starbucks with a cold Mint Mocha Frappuccino and my backpack laden with schoolwork. I was the only customer there, but somehow, it didn’t bother me… which was odd because in that situation I’d normally feel awkward. Suddenly, this awesome Starbucks employee and told me that they were getting rid of their croissants and I can have them for free! Around $0.85 each, who could resist? But I couldn’t take the entire tray even though he insisted I could. He gave me a paperbag and some of the pincer things and I grabbed four of them. (The perfect number it turned out to be) I couldn’t stop the ‘thank you’s’ from coming out of my lips even if I wanted to. When I came back, needless to say, I felt pretty lucky. It was about time I got such a break and I was starving. School’s going really bad and I’m still exhausted from the dark hours of staying up for college applications.

My mom and my sister were pretty excited over the free pastries and they each grabbed one, leaving me with two.

My sister came back with my mom from her tutoring center and we embarked on our foggy drive home via Yerba Buena. Suddenly, I saw a car, license plate Georgia, with its engine hood up. Outside in the freezing cold was a father and a young girl. We stopped by to help, but it turned out he already called for a tow truck. We were about to leave, and I remembered the two remaining croissants left in the sack.

As we drove off, I sincerely hoped that the two of them make it out okay and that they enjoyed the pastries from Starbucks. And again, somehow, as always with my horrible luck, I’m left with nothing… zero… zilch.

But tonight, I’ll sleep happy.
.
.
.
I’ve always been complaining in this blog about how I was born to be used. I thought the reward that karma or God left me were those two free pastries. But it turned out that four was the exact number that I needed to help out people. So many things clicked perfectly for this to happen. If I had driven home, I wouldn’t have noticed the two Georgians. If I’d felt awkward and had left like I’d usually do. If we didn’t have tutoring, we would’ve missed them. Starbucks gave me free pastries today alone. I chose to grab only four of them. I ended up with nothing, but learned a valuable lesson. My reward was happiness, wonder, and the discovery that mankind isn’t all heartless.

Tell me now that there isn’t some greater force at work.

Filed under: General