Merry Christmas!

Ha. You guys thought I would never post here. Well here I am! And wishing everyone a wonderful and safe Holidays :)

Peace.

Bucket List

Never too young to come up with a bucket list! Especially when you have time on your hands...
I'll add to this list as I think of more. Then again, with this track record of our blog, who knows when I'll get to it again.

1. Get courtside seats to a Lakers game.
2. Skydiving (I know, I know, so trite.)
3. Eat at >50% of Michelin Star rated restaurants in the U.S.
4. Donate a substantial amount to a charity I love
5. Be a mentor to someone. And not just in the professional development sense.
6. Visit every continent. Yes, including Antarctica.
7. Get on national TV...(this might be combined with #1. Even a camera pan-by is fine)
8. Get either really good at Spanish or Chinese, or learn another language from scratch
9. Laugh so hard I cry.

...to be continued?

I feel kind of guilty for not really having finals (only have one, and I'm taking the class credit/no credit). It's also kind of lame having free time when no one else is around to play with me. hahaha. It gives my mind too much time and freedom to run rampant and be stupid!

3:33

I wish I could be a more multi-dimensional writer. I understand that everyone has his or her own writing style, but it would be great if mine varied from time to time. In my Creative Nonfiction class, I get to read awesome pieces of work that vary from funny to powerful to biting to exceedingly creative. I think I have a flair of the funny (in the David Sedaris sense) but everything else is seriously lacking. And even Sedaris can write moving pieces. The use of metaphors and poetic imagery baffles me. I am at once both turned off by its floweryness and amazed by the beautiful and vivid language. Or a lyrical piece of "disjoint" writing that forms a cohesive piece (Son of Mr. Green Jeans by Dinty Moore is a wonderful work).

Part of it might be that I lack moving stories to tell. I blame that on a "perfect" childhood in a quiet suburb where the most distressing thing that happened in my elementary school days was when I didn't win a local competition. When people write amazing pieces about family struggles, crime, etc. I get envious that I don't have such stories to evoke inspiration from. This envy is ridiculous. The other part is that I'm just not creative. I dislike poetry, interpretive ______ (dance, art, fill in the blank with most anything) and have little ability to think of large abstract things. I like to tell it as it is. And then if it gets too serious, through some humor in because I'm too immature to face something too dramatic or difficult.

All this limits me as writer. I don't write too much, but if I did, would I turn into a Dan Brown? Where every story is the same and you just plug the plot into a formula? Well, hopefully, at least my writing itself is better, if not the template. Plus, he's also obscenely rich, which leaves the question: would I take the fame and money if I were not proud of the work and knew that it sucked?

I'm not sure. But I'm leaning towards the answer to this question: "Did Obama accept the Nobel Peace Prize?"

First Writing Assignment! (that I took seriously)

Prompt: Write about a body part
Style: Personal essay
Disclaimers: 1. My use of quotes do not mean that they are direct quotations; I do not remember the exact words spoken, but instead have chosen words to capture the intent of the speaker while doing my best to stay true to what they actually said.
2. I am NOT a Democrat.

Earily Big

“Pinch your nose with your right hand and move your other arm through the space. There. Now swing the left arm back and forth like a nose trunk. You’re an elephant!”

Only years later did I realize that my cousin was not affectionately playing animal games with me, but rather mocking my large ears, implicitly comparing them to Dumbo the elephant. He was also smart enough to have taken a picture of my posture. My famous pose is now captured for eternity and proudly displayed on my grandmother’s wall.

Indeed, my ears are quite large. This is especially apparent after a haircut, when they stick out like wings on an airplane. They’ve been yanked by my uncle, flicked by my cousins, and laughed at by my grandma. Only my father, whom I inherited the oversized hearing device from, had anything positive to say. He reassured me: “In Chinese societies, having big ears is a good thing. It means that you are smart. Buddha had big ears!” I’d much rather be compared to Jesus. For whatever reason, walking across water seems a little more appealing than sitting under a tree and meditating. But I guess I’ll take what I can get. Big-eared buffoons can’t be choosy.

Having large ears has consequences that most do not consider. For one, it is near impossible to find a pair of reasonably-priced headphones that fit. Most earpieces simply fall out of my giant abyss of an ear. It’s like trying to feed dimes in an arcade machine that only takes quarters. You can insert them all you want, but they invariably just come right back out. Why is it that size 42 pants are always on sale, but large headphones are so expensive? Also, beanies have become a fashion faux pas. My ears protrude quite comically through the skin-tight material. At first I just thought that I had purchased oddly shaped beanies. I told myself that they were on sale for a reason. One full-priced beanie later, I finally concluded that this type of headwear was definitely a no-go.

Most curious, my big ears do not make me genetically superior in the auditory sense. I’m not really sure how the ear works—something about a hammer, anvil, and stirrup, and I think there’s some drum in there as well. Equipped with this highly sophisticated scientific knowledge, I hypothesize that the vastness of my ear creates too large a cavity for sound to effectively disperse. In any case, I apologize to my neighbors who must overhear the audio commentary of the epic Lakers games I religiously watch. Along the same lines, I hope that those near me enjoy the music on my iPod. If not, I’d gladly take donations for better-fitting earphones.

But there are some perks. As I have gotten older, the mocking and physical torment on my ears has lessened, and I am liberated from my own self-consciousness to laugh along when jokes are made. And it’s nice to have a distinguishing feature that I can talk about when others complain about body parts I didn’t know existed. “Ugh I have such bad cuticles!” “My hair has so many split ends!” “Um…I have big ears?”

Besides, I think big ears have now become fashionable. I suddenly see them appearing in all sorts of cartoons. And I cannot help but feel that I partook in this revolution that brought justice and pride to all big-eared people everywhere. Because in the November of 2008, I took a stand. At that moment, I decided that enough was enough. I was tired of the mockery, ill-fitting headphones, and disgrace from the beanies. I was tired of all if it. It was time to vote in a big-eared President of the United States. I had had enough of the elephants.

whine!

sigh* this quarter kind of sucks. So much work already!!!! WHINE!

I'm (probably) taking creative nonfiction though, so perhaps I can update the blog with some of my groundbreaking writing. hah. (Un)fortunately, I just dropped my CS class and won't be able to share lovely lines of code with you all. :P

Rain Reflections

This will be my last post for a while. Embarrassingly, I have started a fanfiction account, and posted my first story last week. Fanfiction has a horrible reputation for being a site hosting some of the worst works of fiction known to man. Hey, they even took me, so I guess that is proof of their lack of taste. As I see it, the site provides me with an opportunity to hone my writing style, and to put get it out to a broad audience to view and comment on it. In the first three days since my story post, more than 400 people read it. There is nothing like receiving favorable comments and having people subscribe to your story. I have to follow up on that work now. I am going to spend the time I would normally spend blogging on writing and editing my work. I hope to raise its credibility and increase its viewership.

Another distraction from blogging is that I have started journaling again. I feel sometimes we document our lives too much and some thoughts should remain private. Life is good, so don't expect many updates from me, and wish me luck in finding a spot amongst all of the mediocre writing out there.

My last post before I go on hiatus is about rainy days. For the past couple of days, Los Angeles has been receiving rain. I enjoy watching raindrops paint the window panes of my house. They dot the windows and when they get too heavy, they run down the sheets in unpredictable patterns. The pitter patter gives a soothing beat to listen to. Outside, the plants take on a darker hue making themselves look more alive than usual. Life slows down to enjoy the phenomenon of life-giving water falling from the sky.

For me, I find a strong connection with rainy days. Whenever I view a rainy day, I feel like I've lived the moment before. In my mind's eye, I picture a cottage home. It's a one room house heated by a brick fire place. I look up and I notice the roof had beams running across it, and I can see the shingle pattern. I have windows in the walls. The windows are partitioned into four smaller panes. The windows even have shutters. Looking out the window, I see I have a splendid garden, which has that tame but slightly overgrown feel to it. The hedge rises to about waist height, but the plant that catches my eye is this tiny purple flower. The purple flower is button-sized with a black center. It's a rich hue of purple. Somehow, I inherently know there is nobody around for miles. In my mind's eye, in this setting, I watch the rain fall and am at peace with the world. I don't know where this image comes from whether it be from a vivid reading I received as a kid, a portrait I viewed or perhaps a past life. Do you ever have moments in life where they seem familiar to you? I receive similar feelings when I'm in the desert. A meditative calm settles on me, and I feel at home. The feeling is too familiar for a place I only see maybe once a year. These moments have to be from past lives. I do not believe God intended us to learn everything we had to in one lifetime, rather he keeps sending us back until we have learned our lesson. What are your thoughts on past lives and what moments have familiar feelings for you? I thought I would give you something to reflect upon in my absence. I hope all is well with you guys, and I'll see you around.

Oogle for Google

Google really dominates my Internet use, and with my life becoming increasing dependent on the Internet, Google has been dominating my life. Here are a list of products from Google that I use, with the most frequent listed first.

1. Google Mail (gmail)
2. Google search engine
3. Google Docs
4. Google Reader
5. Google Maps
6. Google Voice

and this doesn't even include things like blogger.com and youtube, which are both controlled and owned by Google.

I have yet to totally sell my soul to Google though. I'm refraining from:

1. Google Chrome
2. Google calendar (mostly. I have a shared google calendar with my project group, but I normally don't use it)
3. Google Wave (Have an account, never use.)
4. Any phone with Android platform.


And to think, this all started by a few smart men, working in a cramped room in a building that I walk by every week.

The Captured Peep

Last April, I wrote an article about catching the elusive chocolate peep. It has only taken me three years, but I am proud to say, I have finally captured it, or I guess I should say, J-Ho captured them. She spotted these sugary little bastards up in Seattle, Washington and was kind enough to mail them to me. Thank you Jessica for thinking of me and being so kind to take the time to mail these delicious morsels to me.

After I opened the package from her and discovered the marshmallow morsels, I didn't know what to do. Should I save the package as a triumph of perseverance, or should I eat them? It didn't take me long to decide. I took those delicious bunny shaped marshmallows, and proceeded to devour every last one of them.

They still had the amazing taste of chocolate and marshmallow being blended as one: the near-perfect s'more. Now, Just Born, the company who manufacturers the Peep, needs to figure out how to add graham cracker goodness taste to it.

I experimented with ways of eating them to maximize their taste. I would rip off the confectionary eyes, so it would be one less obstacle between man and marshmallow. Then, I tried several approaches to dividing up the marshmallow. I tried cannibalizing ears, head, and body. I tried splitting it evenly down the middle. Then, I found the correct technique. The true method of getting the most taste was biting off the ears, and stuffing head and body into my mouth. I let the marshmallow slowly dissolve in my mouth giving me complete satisfaction. My craving was finally appeased.

It's weird to think that I haven't eaten this type of Peep in so many years. The last time was senior year of high school. Having the opportunity to eat this treat which I associate with a Goo Goo Dolls concert and hanging out with Jessica, reminded me of simpler times. I will continue to look for the Chocolate Mousse Peep in Southern California, but my craving has been sated. At least for now.

Author's Note: I decided it was time to remodel the blog again, so I hope you like it. Some new features I added were links to your personal blogs and a fish bowl. The personal blog links can be found underneath our names. You can remove the links if you want to, but I figured if you were shamelessly advertising on our blog, we might as well make it official. The fishes at the top follow the cursor if you place it within the designated area. If you click, you can feed them too. I thought it added a nice natural touch to the site. The last thing I would like is removing the second Stephanie user on our site. It's a peeve of mine knowing it's the same user, but she has two different accounts to the site. Go MIT for making this more complicated than it needs to be! I'm not hating, just lovingly berating. Thanks to Andrew or Stephanie on whoever fixes it.

The Evolution of Writing

When I had to write my transfer essays, I wrote with an optimism that spoke of trying my best and how much fun I expected at [Insert Name] University. The student body would be diverse, and I would find a niche that I excelled in. The exciting academic programs I had read about on the school website promised to make my dreams come true. I would make sure that I succeeded at the school because I believed the school was perfect for me.

My father, who has been my editor for my entire life, read my papers and told me it was garbage. He said the essay spoke of naivety and that I did not spend the time I needed reflecting on the essays. I could not understand it. I had written with the same style I did my freshmen application essays. In fact, I've practiced this college writing approach with other students resulting in great success with their college admissions. So, why the harsh criticism?

My dad told me I could not write with the optimism of someone who didn't know what they were getting themselves into. I was a 21 year old adult. I had experienced my trial of college firsts. I had my first roommate, a roommate who dropped out because he was a depressed closet bisexual. I met new people, people who belittled me at times for the color of my skin. I experienced my first Midwestern winter, where snow quickly turns into hidden ice patches and slush. I learned I had Seasonal Affective Disorder, a condition where lack of sunlight leads to depression. I learned how boring a small city could really be. I experienced my first C's, D's, and F's. I fled into the World of Warcraft to lead a life which did not suck horribly. I had already experienced my firsts of college. I could not write with youthful optimism of the unknown. I had already faced it and knew of its trials.

I rewrote my essays. I wrote about my last day at Rose. It was the first perfect snow I had seen that year, blanketing the landscape like a postcard. I decided to walk around the campus to burn it in my memory. I had stayed up for seventy-two hours prior to my walk trying to figure out what direction my life should go. I was out of a school, and out of hope.

Prior to entering that college, I had worked tirelessly. I completed whatever I started. I was not a quitter. Throughout my high school career, I experienced success. I completed nine advanced placement courses, received the English Department award for being an outstanding student, became a California Scholastic Federation Gold Seal Bearer, and achieved other awards which separated me from my graduating class. All of those years of work meant nothing to the year and a quarter I had screwed up at Rose-Hulman.

I will never forget that last day at Rose-Hulman. Looking upon the clean, white snow, I knew I could get a fresh start too. I would survive somehow. I would build myself anew when I returned to the sun, to California. I wouldn’t finish my college degree in Terre Haute, Indiana; I would finish what I had started in Southern California.

I replaced elitism with humility and complacency with hardwork. A's I took for granted became something special. I did whatever I needed to do to succeed. I took a two-half hour bus ride to school when my car was broken, so I could make it to class. I took advantage of professors' office hours. I no longer identified myself with the awards I earned in the past. I simply want to work hard and take it one day at a time.

It was with this grittiness of experience that I wrote. I have looked into the abyss of defeat and slowly gathered myself. My fellow co-blogists cannot understand what I have gone through. You have no idea how bleak this world can be. You have not tasted humiliation. You do not understand the gift of trust. Universities will not trust me. I struggle day by day to have people believe I have potential. These experiences will continue to change my writing style. I will continue to experience firsts and learn how the world really is. Thank you dad for teaching me to write and think like an adult. You are an amazing editor who inspires me. As I evolve, my writing will evolve too.

Purgatory and Tan Lines

Hello forum! I hope you didn’t have too bad of a Single’s Awareness day. I spent the day taking care of the Vanden Bos’ dogs, so I was not alone. I had my bitches with me. (Yeah, I know lame joke.) Remind me never to get a dog because they shed everywhere. You are constantly cleaning after them, and they crave attention 24/7. Uhhhh... I can barely take care of myself besides two crazy pooches.

Most recently, I started another semester of school and hopefully, this will be my last semester of the purgatory known as junior college. I’ve enjoyed the year I've spent at Santa Monica College. It has given me time to reflect on my life, and to pursue my eclectic passions. The experience has been meditative, but I'm ready to move on again. I am ever so slowly taking steps towards becoming a videogame programmer. Keep your fingers crossed that I make it into a 4 year university to continue my pursuit.

Since I'm reflecting on my life, I make time to relax every now and then, unlike our ever busy MIT and Stanford students. Sometimes, I take naps out on the quad. I never took advantage of the privilege when I was at Rose, so I’m making up for it now.

It feels so good to lie in the shade of a tree and completely relax. I’m an uptight person who almost never lets his guard down around people. So, when I sleep on the quad, it requires me to let my guard down to relax. It's amazing being surrounded by people, and not worrying about being attacked or what not. It allows me to trust my fellow man. I think the best part of napping outside is starting your sleep in the shade and waking up in the sun. It serves as a reminder that the world is ever changing even while you rest. On top of that, the sun heats your clothes and skin serving as an awesome blanket. The sun heats you evenly all over. The ground underneath provides a comforting contrast with a slight dampness. It's an experience making me feel one with my environment. A simple one hour nap outside feels like a night's worth of rest to me. What makes napping even sweeter here is knowing the East Coast is buried in snow. The only problem with these naps is I'm getting sock tan lines. Ahhhh.. the price of a good nap. Take some time out and enjoy the simple pleasure of sleeping on the grass.

P.S.
Last year, in the month of February, Daniel wrote the epic post of. "I am sick ...and it sucks." I'm amazed at the amount of writing we are putting out this year. We have half the number of posts of the other years, and it's only been two months so far. Good job Andrew, Daniel, *cough*Stephanie*cough*, and me.

Postscript

(from the last post)

Found out I didn't get the internship. The nice lady then proceeded to say "hope you have a great night!" haha...thanks! (Note: I actually did have a pretty sweet night) Can't say I was too surprised though. Certainly disappointed, but I probably wouldn't have given me a job if I were the interviewer. :P

As much as I loved NY, I don't know if that would have been the best place for me. There might be too much fun, excitement, glamor. And I don't know if I am at a point where I am spiritually disciplined enough to continue seeking after J without a supportive community, especially when there are so many other fun things to do (and if I have the money to do them)! Them = going to Broadway shows, eating out, shopping, etc. Get your mind off the gutter. In that sense, I probably would prefer Boston. Feel like Boston has a smaller city feel to it and I also would have the luxury of being *coughjudgedcough* by DK, who could then hold me accountability and introduce me to community. We'll see though. J is a mysterious one and I can only imagine where I'll be led this summer. (Imagining Bain right now. semi-jk)

Just figured I'd post this update so I won't have to explain when I talk to ya'll next. Since I know you are all desperately waiting to hear about my life. Sorry you're going to have to call off the celebratory night you had planned--hopefully the violinists and trumpeters are accomodating; the red carpet is refundable; and the beautiful bikini-clad women can go entertain AB instead. But no emoness here. I have my Snoopy next to me and a leisure book waiting to be read. Life is good. Not great, but good.

NY Reflections

I really need to get out of California soon. Every time I go to the East Coast, I feel like it's so different and new. And no wonder--I've spent pretty much my entire life in PV and PA (does not stand for Pennsylvania), basically twins of each other, separated by 400 miles. So a big city is new. A big city on the East Coast is especially new. It's about time I explore new things!

Anyway, a running list of interesting things from my short trip:

1. Cold! Exhibit A: turning on a faucet is an art. I learned that you can't just turn the cold water on...your hands will be unhappy. Instead, you need a delicate balance between cold and hot water. Either that, or wash your hands SUPER quickly...

2. Cold! Exhibit B: I was excited to visit the famous Central Park. Wandered around until I found it...but it was definitely not what I expected. No beautiful green lawns, majestic trees, or any of that sort. Nope...dirty snow and naked flora. Oh yeah. I forgot leaves fall in the East Coast. Not my idea of a "park," but still beautiful nonetheless

3. Rock of Ages!!! What an amazing musical. Kudos to KH for recommending (and taking me) to go see it. I wish I knew more 80s rock music so I could have appreciated it even more. But still, it was awesome. Can't wait to get the soundtrack. Sooooo good. I can't wait for this new musical to catch fire nationally with tours, and then I can pretend to be high-cultured and showoff that I've seen it already. I love Broadway.

4. New York driving is scary :( I wasn't even driving. Sitting in a taxi cab was enough.

5. NY cab drivers are way less friendly than CA ones. Though I did have a really cool conversation about Islam with the guy who drove me to the airport. I think JS would be jealous.

6. Everything is huge in NY. Never been to Texas, but idk if they can top the huge buildings/stores/overall city life of NY.

7. I like how people are active day and night. I like the noisiness of the street at 3 am. I like how there is traffic at 1 am. I like the city :)

8. People are in such a hurry!!! I thought I walked fast. I guess I do walk fast for a Californian. But definitely not compared to NYers.

9. I made the right call in deciding to wear a white dress shirt to the interview. Few colored dress shirts in sight. Seemed like everyone wore black tops and white shirts. Mildly depressing.

10. It was actually pretty sweet talking to people who had no idea what BCG, Mck, Bain were. Or any idea of what business consulting is. Reminds me that the world is a little bigger than my ever-important life. (Of course, after hanging out with that group of people, I proceed to have brunch with 5 consultants the next morning. fail.)

11. Hooray for catching up with old friends. Sad how it's so much easier to cherish time together when it now takes much more effort to do so. KH and I probably didn't purposely hang out at all in high school. But oh how wonderful it is to have a friendly face in a big city, and how wonderful it is to be able to have someone know me from way back when. Even though we haven't been the best at keeping in touch (totally her fault! jk. we argued about whose fault it was...) and needed some catching up to do regarding what we've been up to this past year or two...we know things about each other that our closest friends at school now probably don't. A different side of things. The glorious beginnings to our current triumphant places in the world.

Overall, a fantastic trip. Everything aside from the actual interview was great. Definitely nice to take a break from the normal weekend at Stanny. Can only hope for the best now--out of my control!

joshua bell

i am in love. it is all andrew's fault. he sent me an article about music and our perception of beauty (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html?hpid=topnews in case you are interested); the article focused around a musician named Joshua Bell.

love at first sound (whatever the equivalent of sight is in hearing); i really want to hear him live! someone please go with me to carnegie hall to hear him play sometime.

Home

I remember Alex and Daniel once debating what "home" meant. I don't remember the conclusions, other than the fact that Daniel's home is not Hawaii. Period.

This past week, I've really realized how important and valuable "home" is to me, no matter how you define it. I've been so busy running around doing interviews, making business-related calls on the phone, and toiling in group projects that I really haven't had much of a chance to just sit back at home and have personal space. It's SO important for me to have my own time/space. I think this year is the first time at Stanford when I have truly felt that I have a place to call "home." Having no roommate, no chaotic running around outside the halls has been...relieving. Don't get me wrong--I've had positive experiences with roommates and dorm life. I do miss quite a few aspects of that. But I'm generally much more of a "I need my space" type person. I like just opening the door, changing into PJs, and turning on the TV ... all the while knowing that no one can bother me once I'm home. It's not even just the fact that I have tons of good memories of this studio. It's more the sense of overwhelming comfort. My own space behind closed doors. I think I could even feel at "home" in a hotel room (as long as my suitcase is unpacked). Home to me is about private space. Where I can lie around in boxers and watch TV. Where I can have the heater or fan on without worrying about my preferred temperature bothering other people. (I'll reconsider this once I pay for my own utilities.) It's about being a little messy, but knowing that that mess is caused by me so I'm not grossed out by the germs/dirtiness. And I need this time at home. It's where I can get my me-time.



Author's note: In case you were wondering, no I do not have a date for Valentine's Day. Surprised?

The True 100th Post - Star Wars

After my debacle of mixing up the number of posts published and post written, this will be the true 100th post. And what a better way to commemorate the 100th posting, but by talking about a movie that changed the world: Star Wars.

I was recently searching for movie reviews by one of my favorite critics, James of Cinemassacre, better known as the Angry Video Game Nerd, when I stumbled across this review he did on Star Wars. The review reminded me how important Star Wars is in the history of film and how it will change with the next generation of movie enthusiasts.

We almost all saw Star Wars at an early age, and it made a lasting impression upon us. I remember drawing Boba Fett all the time with my friend Brian Woods in the third grade. At the time, nothing could be cooler than having a jetpack and an awesome helmet.

The fight scenes and special effects blow us away. Watching the X-wings make their run on the Death Star is as exciting today as it was when I was a little kid. We rarely see so many interesting, fantastical characters as in the Mos Eisley bar scene. Everything seems so familiar, but at the same time so new.

Star Wars pays tribute to history, genres of films, and archetypal adventure. If you have ever seen an archetypal journey chart(i.e. ordinary world, call to adventure, refusal to the call, meeting with the mentor, etc.), the first film follows it exactly. It is the classic adventure story.

Much of Star Wars follows the Akira Kurosawa film Hidden Fortress, which tells the story of a princess leading rebels against an evil empire. It begins with the perspective of two peasants just like how Star Wars begins from the perspective of two droids.

The bar scene in Mos Eisley is reminiscent of the old Westerns. The bar has an edgy atmosphere where a fight can break out at anytime. Luke runs into a little trouble with the bar natives who don't like him because of his face. A bar fight ensues which Obi Wan saves him from. We even have a quick draw between Han Solo and a bounty hunter proving brains and skill will get you out of a tight situation.

The rise of a dictatorship from a democracy is like that of the rise of Julius Caesar. There is a biblical allusion to the birth of Anakin Skywalker. Even the beginning of the film with the "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" is the classic fairy tale opening "A long time ago in a kingdom far, far away". Star Wars is a mash up of all of the greatest stories ever told. No ideas are original, but George Lucas takes these ideas and turns them into something slightly new.

Now, how will this change for the next generation of viewers? We have seen the movies in the order of 4, 5, 6, 1, 2, and 3. But what will the next generation think if they watch the series in chronological order? They will not be shocked by the reveal of Darth Vader as Luke's father. To me at a young age, this twist blew my mind. I couldn't believe it, and for the next generation, they will have been waiting for the reveal since Episode 3.

They will see Darth Vader more as a tragic hero instead of as one of the most bad ass villains of all time. In fact, by knowing he's a tragic hero, Darth Vader's switching of sides in Episode 6 will be less powerful. Not to mention, the unveiling of his face was one of the biggest moments for me as a kid. I didn't know what to expect.

George Lucas has made little changes between the editions like including Jar Jar Binks voice in the celebration scene in the end of the sixth episode. Or putting in more CG scenes like trying to make Mos Eisley more realistic. There's a charm to the old videos knowing that everything you see has been reproduced in real life with puppets and camera tricks.

Much of the power of the Star Wars story line depends on how you reveal the story. Will you choose to show the film in chronological order or in the order they were made? Will you show the original film on VHS or go to the DVD? How would you show Star Wars to your children? (Pretend for the two of our blogists who refuse to have children.)

The Future of Soccer

The other day I was channel surfing, and I came across a gaming channel. The game they were playing was Fifa on the computer from what I could tell.

If you have ever watched a Star Craft tournament, it was very much like that. Two teammates play on one system, working together to crush their opposition, who sit at another system on the other side of the room. The team's consisted of blurry eyed Asians staring at their screens with a focus you normally see them direct at textbooks. They even wore the team shirts of the soccer teams they represented: Manchester United and Real Madrid.

The thing that truly disgusted me was the commentary. The commentators treated the tournament as if it were the real sport. Let me give you idea of what I witnessed.

"Ronaldo is dribbling down the field, but he has two men on him. Oh, he's crossing it and OH MY GOD, it's off the crossbar."

"It looks like we have an offsides, Jim. I don't know if that call is correct, but this is a computer, so I guess we'll have to accept it. There are problems with programming sometimes though."

"Manchester United is looking really strong today. Their footwork is impeccable in losing their defenders. I'm sure we'll see more interesting gameplay in the second half when both teams are warmed up."

"We have some incredible players on the field and I can't wait, Jim."

Really? Really? They argued about whether the computer judged the offsides correctly. They were talking about the dribbling down the field as if it was really happening. Congratulations! You pushed the arrow key in the correct direction. They talked about footwork, and discussed each goal in detail. They questioned whether the teams were getting warmed up properly. It was disgusting.

The actually playing of soccer is more difficult because of the physical prowess necessary to play the game. You almost have to be picked by God to play in the professionals. I remember a boy I played with who had practiced his skills to perfection, but his body was so weak he could only play half of the time.

The sport requires the entire body and mind to work as one to execute the tactics necessary to score on the opponents. The player cannot see the whole field, and he can only hope his 9 other teammates are doing what they should be. The body has to be capable to play at the level. Any athlete should be acknowledged on their physical prowess.

Computer games only require a sharp mind and fast fingers to exploit the programing. They often only consist of teams of 2. The morale of a team is not affected in computer games. Instead of relying on gut shots, one relies on the mathematics written into the game. Any hack with enough time and patience can pick up the controller and master it. I fear that someday this may become the future of soccer. As people get more overweight, people will play the computer game that gives them the illusion of playing the game perfectly instead of the real game.

I don't know. Watching the gaming network made me think.

Perchance to Dream

I am alive, forum! By the power of fried chicken and an In 'n' Out burger, I finally have the energy to blog again. I was sick for the past week. I delivered a speech to my public speech class, which quickly turned it into a public humiliation class. After a humble ride home, I crawled into bed and slept for 12 hours straight. I awoke to read some manga and Norman Mailer's "The Naked and the Dead" for 5 hours and passed out for another 12 hours. With the sleep, I've had plenty of opportunity to dream of blog topics to talk about.

"To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream." Now, for the well-read, perhaps you may recognize the Shakespeare quote. It comes from the "To be or not to be" soliloquy by Hamlet. (Stop being a Hamlet, Andrew! Sorry, it was too good to pass up.) The phrase "Perchance to Dream" has been used as a title for a Twilight Zone episode, and even a Batman: The Animated Series episode. Both episodes challenged my perceptions of dreaming.

I watched the Batman: The Animated Series episode when I was about 10 years old. Bruce Wayne discovers himself in a life where he isn't Batman. His parents are alive. He's getting married to the love of his life Selina Kyle, who you probably know as Catwoman. In fact, there is another Batman protecting the city. He has a hard time relinquishing the drive to protect people, but he finally starts to settle into his peaceful life. He sits down to read the newspaper, but he can't. The text is all gibberish. In a frenzy, he flees his house and goes to the cemetery to confront Batman because Bruce knows Batman knows what is going on. I don't want to give away the ending, but needless to say, the ending for this episode blew my 10-year-old mind. I found the episode in parts on YouTube: part 1 and part 2. I think this a must-see for the Batman fan.

The Twilight Zone episode appeared more than 30 years earlier, and it contains another thought-provoking message about dreaming. A man goes to a psychiatrist to help him with a problem. The man has a weak heart, so he can't do anything too stressful. In his dreams, he is visited by a woman who makes him take thrilling rides, which make his heart want to burst. He knows the next time he falls asleep, it will be his last. Another incredible ending which will make you think. If you ever have the opportunity, I suggest you watch it. Sorry, I couldn't find the episode on YouTube for you.

Now, I've talked about two television series and their mischievous dealings with dreams. How does this concern me? Whenever I get sick, I have a perchance to dream.

In the 7th grade, we were required to read a book called "The Hero and the Crown". I was running a fever, so I was lying in bed trying to keep up with school work. I was reading the book, but I kept fading in and out of reality. The forest and shrubbery became more than words, I had become one with the book. I will never forget the description of the man's skin as "milky-white". It was all so vivid. Think Avatar 3-D, and kick it up a couple of notches. Unbeknownst to me, my fever had run up to 106 degrees. My mom rushed me to the emergency room, and I was fine.

Ever since, when I'm sick, I have a tendency to dream. Unlike "The Hero and the Crown" incident where I was forced into the book, I tend to have the capability to experiment with my dream. I was reading "The Naked and the Dead" which takes place in World War II in the Pacific campaign. I dreamt of the Pacific beaches that had to be stormed, how a life is held so precariously by Chance as a soldier creeps through the jungle growth, and attitudes of the men. I erase the story as I go, making it my own. It's a weird experience I cannot describe.

My manga chapters led my dream to wander in metropolises overrun by demons and their hunters. It was very reminiscent of Blade Runner. Santa Claus was on the corner trying to give Christmas cheer to the neo-tropolis. The style of dress was terse like the people who wore them. Action scenes unfolded in my mind. Each thrust and parry of the hunter's sword were performed to perfection. Vapor trails of bullets laced the scenery making into a grim artistic display of death. All of this played out in my mind while I rested. In fact, my dreaming is part of the reason for my long hours of sleeping. I want to see the ending. So, I sleep, perchance to dream of the next story.

Author's Note:
I did some reviewing of the forum, and would you believe I was wrong about the 100th post. We had written a 100 posts, but we hadn't published all of them. So, I guess you can say, I screwed up.

If you are interested in the endings for the Twilight Zone and Batman episodes, I can publish them in the comments section. Let me know if you want to hear more.

So, do you guys dream often? Stephanie told me she doesn't.

Night Shift

Nighttime is so different. Everywhere.

Went to downtown Palo Alto (aka one street) on Saturday for my birthday. Night life is weird. Restaurants turn into bars. Rich, yuppie professionals become rowdy bar hoppers. Gone are the annoying little kids. They are replaced by annoying big kids. Yet I can still see the appeal in night life.


Took a nighttime walk around campus yesterday. So peaceful and quiet. The church was especially beautiful. No bicycles zooming by, no swarm of camera-touting tourists. Though people were toiling away inside the buildings. Especially the math building. But even some of the humanities buildings! (No offense).

Today: Grocery run at 12:51 a.m. Empty streets, empty parking lot. The Safeway plaza was brightly lit, but no one in sight. So strange. Happily shopped for my goodies with no one in my way. No one, that is, except for the night crew restocking and rearranging shelves. That was somewhat of a nuisance. But I made sure to be extra polite. Working at 1:02 a.m. in Safeway isn't ideal. Productive grocery run. Fresh fruits and veggies! I've been feeling lethargic and gross lately, and I realized that I haven't eaten very well. Stupid interviews, psets, and conference calls get in the way of quality food.

I like the night shift. Especially when it doesn't entail working "overtime."

Silence is Golden

No, I am not making a pun on our blog's name. "Silence is Golden" is a song that was originally performed in 1967 by a British group known as The Tremeloes. The Tremeloes was one of the British groups that tried to make the transition to the American music industry. During their tryouts in the United States, they actually beat out The Beatles for an audition to tour with a famous imitation group, but I guess you could say The Beatles got the last laugh since not many remember The Tremeloes.

"Silence is Golden" made it to the #1 spot on the UK charts and the #11 spot on the U.S. Billboard top 100. My mom claims the song reached the #1 spot for the Los Angeles area, so I bet it's that damn Midwest that prevented the song from reaching the coveted #1 spot on the billboard.

All of the band members were strong singers, so they have heavy harmony throughout the song. It's difficult to identify the lead singer because the lead seems to jump around the group creating an emphasis on certain words. In my opinion, this simple harmony truly enhances the song. It's a sound you don't hear often in today's music which emphasizes strong soloists who prefer to sing all over the place to show their range. *cough* Mariah Carey *cough*

The reason this song stood out to me was the lyrics. It's a song that has a romantic longing feeling. This man is watching the love of his life getting cheated upon. He can't bear the thought of telling her because he doesn't want to see her cry. Besides, he knows she won't believe him. So, he looks on as his love loves another who is being unfaithful to her. He would like to do something, but all he can do is remain silent. For this reason, silence is golden.

There are rich emotions in this song. It's a complicated situation where there is no correct action. I can only imagine what the guy is feeling. He wants to tell her, but at the same time, he is conflicted. Is he telling her out of love? Or out of selfishness to have her for his own?

Even though the cheater is the real one at fault, often times, the messenger is blamed as well. She may living a dream, but to wake her from it would be just as harsh. The singer knows this, and he can't hurt her by revealing the truth. It's quite a conundrum: to have her be happy in ignorance or know the truth.

I, especially like how he is reminding himself not to break his rule of not telling her. "Mind your business, don't hurt her, you fool." He knows it's foolish to love someone who is already taken, but he can't help it. And to watch them hurt themselves is unbearable. Only the insane or those in love torture themselves like this.



If the video doesn't work, click here to hear song.

Lyrics

Oh, don't it hurt deep inside
To see someone do something to her
Oh, don't it pain to see someone cry
Oh, especially when someone is her

Silence is golden, but my eyes still see
Silence is golden, golden
But my eyes still see

Talking is cheap, people follow like sheep
Even though there is nowhere to go
How could she tell, he deceived her so well
Pity, she'll be the last one to know

Silence is golden, but my eyes still see
Silence is golden, golden
But my eyes still see

How many times will she fall for his line
Should I tell her or should I keep cool?
And if I tried, I know she'd say I lied
Mind your business, don't hurt her, you fool

Silence is golden, but my eyes still see
Silence is golden, golden
But my eyes still see

Any thoughts on the song? What would you do? Would you watch in silence?

Author's note:
I wouldn't tell her because I'm a coward, as we all know.

documentation

when you look on facebook, it is amazing how many photos are up there. i just looked at a facebook recruiting pamphlet (yes facebook recruits at mit for software engineers) that claims that 1 billion photos are uploaded to facebook each month. and i bet that the number is only increasing. which suggests to me that in fact, more and more of our lives are being documented. whether by photos, or videos, or other methods, our lives are increasingly becoming visible to the public eye.

now let's extrapolate that. this trend suggests to me that there may be some point in the future, where your entire life may be recorded, for posterity (including your future self) to review and enjoy. of course, i would imagine that you wouldnt review your whole life, or there might be times where you'll turn the "camera" (whatever the equivalent technology may be at that point in time) off. but it is interesting to me that we want that record so much. don't ask me what that suggests. but aiyah, what a world we may be living in 20 or 30 years from now...

Post 100

We have finally made it to the legendary 100th post. CONGRATULATIONS! It's only taken four of us nearly two years to do it, but we did it. Let's hope we can get the next 100 posts faster. I wish I had an amazing topic to talk about to commemorate this moment, but I don't. I do, however, have a music suggestion.

For the past two days, I've been writing college transfer essays. The universe needs to be in just the right order for me to concentrate for that amount of time. I guess you could say I'm no Daniel or Stephanie. One way I get into the mood to write is listening to soothing music. This can range from lonely songs (Thanks Andrew! I still listen to the album to this day.), classical music, or bossa nova.

Bossa nova is the evolution of the samba. It has less percussion in the background and it has complex harmonies to make it very smooth. This is often compared to "cool jazz". Bossa nova originated in Brazil and echoes the sunny, beach towns in which it was developed. The first Bossa nova song to have international success is the song "The Girl from Ipanema". You would have heard this song if you watched Wayne's World II or The Blues Brothers. (I summarized this poorly and will edit this later.)

Well, Jessica Hoey gave me a CD of a Japanese-Brazilian bossa nova singer, Lisa Ono. Ono has an interesting history of living in Tokyo for half the year, and Rio de Janeiro for the other half. If you hear her smooth vocals and perfect pronunciation, you would never guess she was mixed. The music is soothing beyond belief. If you ever have the luck to get her CD, NAIMA ~ Meu Anjo ~, I suggest you get it. It truly is an experience, and as far as I know, none of you guys listen to this style.

Intrigue in the Imperfections

As some of you may know, I participate in some nerdy pursuits like "Dungeons and Dragons". The game has the social misconception of being a game for social outcasts. But, would you believe, Stephen Colbert, fake news anchor; Ed Robertson, guitarist and singer of Barenaked Ladies; and Vin Diesel, actor from Fast and the Furious have picked up the dice and played "Dungeons and Dragons"? Many people don't understand what the game really is. “Dungeons and Dragons” is a structured, collaborative story-telling game.

The setting for the adventure takes place in a magical, medieval universe where wizards and warriors; elves and dwarves; and good and evil collide. One player controls the world, in which, the other players move in by using the elements of the game he finds interesting from the Player's Core Rulebook, Monster Manual, and Dungeon Master's Guide. This player weaves the story together and presents the conflict the characters must overcome. He decides when they will reach the next town, when they'll be attacked, and when the group is ready for the ultimate showdown withe evil. By having imagination, the players bring the world to life.

Now, each player has to create their own character, or protagonist, from scratch. They decide on the race, job class, what skills he knows, and the background information for the character. For the past week, I've been trying to dream up what it takes to be a good, memorable hero.

Through this process, I came to realize I have the problem of balancing my character too much. I don't want my players to have an Achille's heel. My hero's are flawless, and I design them to statistically destroy anything that comes in their way. This perfection makes them boring. Despite whatever backstory they may have, finding a lost family member, fulfilling some last request, or revenge against their rival, they are uninteresting. Only by struggling are real memorable heroes made.

I decided to take a look at literature. I discovered that the great heroes we remember like Hercules, Cerano, Don Quixote, etc. are flawed men, and it is their imperfections that we come to admire. The greatest challenge of the hero is overcoming his own personal shortcomings. Hercules lost himself in rages, and he quests to atone for his sins and overcome that rage. Cerano cannot confess to the love of his life and selflessly protects her. We cheer for him when we finally tells her how he feels. Don Quixote lives in an imaginary world of his creation. At first we believe he needs to be stopped, but Don Quixote fights on. Through his perseverance, he conquers the realist's dreary outlook within ourselves by bringing insight and adventure to our ordinary lives. There is beauty and intrigue in their imperfections.

So, I have taken away the godly stats for my characters. I've weakened my future protagonist further by removing one of his arms. My character will struggle with inner demons in trying to accept himself for who he is. I have made my character flawed, human. Should my character overcome the obstacles set before him, he shall be remembered for his characteristics that set him apart.

You may scoff at my playing of "Dungeons and Dragons" but I blame your imagination. I challenge you guys to come up with an original backstory for a character of your creation. What would be his defining characteristics? One eye missing? Part of his body deformed by a experiment gone wrong? What is his motivation for adventuring? Write your ideas in the comment section. It's a real challenge especially when it seems all of the ideas have already been taken. I challenge you guys to see giants where windmills stand.

21!!!

Yay!!!!!! Very happy! Not about to be a raging alchie or anything, but nice to know that I won't be limited in my options to go out and socialize with people. Also, this marks 14 years until I get to run for President. So ya'll better watch out... :D

Memories

I have a knack for remembering events, which happen to me. Regrettably, this memory does not work for studying else I would ace subjects like history with no problem. I remember the little moments that happen, which define friendships and how we interact. Depending on how much we hang out, I have moments where I bring up events which nobody else seems to be able to remember. I direct this to Andrew mostly because he claims I make up most of the stuff. To him, I say, "Nay, sir. I remember it as it happened... perhaps with a little bit more drama."

I remember being refused admittance to a certain science group in 6th grade, receiving brownies while cards at a picnic table, buying pie certificates for the price of $10, being asked my opinions on who I thought was 'hot' in our grade, trying to negotiate a deal of trading olive oil for steel, bowling with fellow EHAPers, and countless other experiences. Despite how insignificant some of the events were, I remembered them for a reason and they have shaped who I am today.

I have been contemplating what it would be like to share these memories with other people. Instead of a simple retelling through words, what if we could take the memories inside our heads and play them for others? This reminds me of Harry Potter's use of the Pensieve. Dumbledore is able to take his memories and physically put them into a bowl, so Harry can tangibly put himself in them. Through these experiences, Harry learns to understand who Voldemort really is. What if we had this ability in real life? What if loved ones exchanged their memories instead of vows to get married? How could you get much more intimate than that? Would this change the way negotiations happened? If we saw the suffering others endured, perhaps we could come to truces to problems like the Middle East?

The idea of memory transference seems simple enough, but I feel this could go so much deeper. I don't know where I am going with this, but I'll continue to mull over the idea. This is what I've been thinking about for my creative writings. My idea of memory transference is a little grimmer than the Pensieve. Through cannibalism, my characters obtain the memories of their dead friend. Because memories make up who we are, I feel as if they are woven into our very flesh. By eating the flesh, the consumer tastes and sees the life that was lived.

Now, you have seen some of the inner workings of my brain. Yeah, I'm kinda screwed up. If any other ideas come to mind, I'll let you guys know.

I talked to a certain co-blogist and she (if that wasn't a hint enough to who it was) said we should keep the blog running together. She is more than able to keep up two blogs. She even promised to give us the good posts. *wink* I'll hold you to your word, mystery co-blogist.

I'm glad to see Daniel posting considering it's been forever since we've heard from him. When did you become so obsessed with computers? I feel most of your writings have been about technology advancements in that field.

Finally, a very happy 21st birthday to Andrew! Next time we meet, we shall share a beer together. It will be a beer of epic proportions.

Expect to hear more of me since someone said I never write on the blog. I shall prove that person wrong, and that Alexander can indeed write well and often.

interfaces

hello hello! it has been a while since i have blogged. unfortunately (because i know you're all dying to see more of my fantastic writing :P) this will not be a particularly long post. but i hope it is of some interest.

i think media technology is fascinating. and i'm not talking about media as in the news (tv, newspaper, etc), i'm talking about user interfaces and visualizations that allow us to interact with information in new and innovative ways. one easy example of this is the gestural interface used in the move Minority Report; this interface allowed tom cruise to interact with data streaming from the minds of the prescient in a new and very tangible way.

and this idea, of interacting with information and data, is fascinating. because what this really means is that we are using the computer as an extension of our minds. after all, the computer is simply a tool. and when we start thinking about new visualizations and data representations, we are simply trying to make the computer a better tool by improving the way it interfaces with the human brain.

and when you start thinking about the computer as simply an additional aid to the human brain and human computation, things become very interesting. because then, not only is it important to improve the performance of the computer (processing speed, hard drive, cache size, etc), but it is also important to improve the user interface so that the human user can utilize those resources to the fullest.

therein lies the fascination of media and user interfaces. when you improve an interface or create a new way of visualizing and manipulating data, you have created a closer link between the computer and the human. you have removed more "noise" from the interaction between the computer's brain and the human's brain, allowing them to understand each other better and allowing the human a greater grasp of the computers tools. (now this is of course arguable; there are many in computer science who, being very literate in computer function, would much rather do things very close to the computer's way, ie through command lines and UNIX thinking, instead of adding extra implementation to make the computer meet him/her halfway)

now i have either fascinated you as well or bored you, but i'll leave you with this. imagine a point in the future where the user interface has developed to a point at which the user can intuitively harness the computation powers of a computer without any learning curve whatsoever. what do we do with such "limitless" power? and what does that mean for us as humans?

Separate Blogs?

Since it's rare for any of us to post on this blog, I find it irksome that two of our co-blogists have branched off on personal blogs. We already don't hear very much from you guys, and I can only assume we will hear even less of you on this blog. I understand you guys want creative freedom to do what you want, but I think we should reevaluate the need for this blog then. We can each have our own separate blog, and keep track of each other that way.

Depending on how you feel, we should think about that. I would be lying if I said I kept up on this blog often. I'm too busy with school work and creative writings of my own to pay this blog the attention it deserves. If this blog were to be inherited by someone, I vote Andrew. He dedicated the most time to this site anyway, and from what I can tell, his friends follow us the most.

Let me know what you guys think.

FYI: I finished editing an earlier post I had and posted it. It's before Stephanie's last post.

Rat Race

I've noticed that there are two major marathons across college campuses: the rat race of pre-meds and the rat race of business.

To train for the former, one must prove why they want to be doctors. This can be done by 1) volunteering at clincs 2) conducting lab research 3) studying for MCATS or 4) a combination of the aforementioned three. Option 4 generally yields the most favorable results. Yet overtraining has its dangers as well. Aside from the invariable complaining about bio labs, improper training may lead to feeling burnt out and coping out to become a consultant. Which brings me to the second major competition.

The business route is a little less defined, as conditions are unpredictable and underdogs are more likely to sprint ahead. Yet there remain tested methods: 1) Joining the pre-business/pre-consulting/pre-finance/etc club on campus (at least one) 2) jumping abroad a startup 3) preparing for case interviews or 4) a combination of the aforementioned three. Again, option 4 is preferable. And of course, this trail is not without pitfalls. Common dangers include inadvertently writing "$" instead of "s" on papers (exhibit A: Ke$ha. jk, she claims it is for the irony) and believing that 80 hour workweeks "aren't too bad."

Of course, other races exist. For example, I am not denying the validity or treachery of the political science race. Yet I have not had as much experience with those sorts of competitors--perhaps by choice, perhaps not. And as frustrated as I may get at the seemingly never-ending cycle of rat races (we've always been stuck in competition...from cutting the straightest to writing the best cursive to solving arithmetic the fastest, etcetc) part of me questions how motivated I would actually be if people around me weren't striving for the next milestone as well. Though I wish I had an innate drive to learn and/or succeed, I must admit that a lot of it comes from my surroundings, and my self-applied pressure to keep up/stay on top. So as much as I may hate the rate-race nature, I also hate the idea of fat rats lying around waiting to be fed.

Don't get me wrong--there certainly are entities more satisfying and important than getting the best grade, the best job, the best car, the best house, the best retirement home (sorry). God, family, friends, sig others all come into play here. But from a strictly career-oriented standpoint, I can think of scenarios far worse than one inundated with runners in one (well, two) massive rat races.

Some shameless publicizing

Haven't written on this site in a while. Just letting you know that all my random thoughts can be found on my own blog that I recently started since the New Year called brandnewday9.blogspot.com. Yes, I am shamelessly (and temporarily) publicizing my new blog. But don't worry, I will still write on this blog, and I still want to know what you guys are up to! The perk to my new blog: my pre-med rantings will no longer be found on this blog! hooray! Hope you guys are all doing well, and help those in Haiti by texting "Haiti" to 90999. It will send $10 to the Red Cross! ok that is all :)

The Hunt

For the past couple of months, a cat has been known to be outside my house and cry out in heat. The cat is not getting warmer with a heater or anything. I'm talking about it's getting it on with another cat.

The sound is terrifying. It sounds like a little child being beaten to death. A cat in heat is not a sound I'm acquainted with (thankfully) so the first time it happened at 5 in the morning I tried to tune it out. I'm the guy who can fall asleep on a plane before take off and wake up after the plane has landed. I sleep on the hardest of beddings when I go camping. I am a pro at sleeping, but the unnatural sound of this cat kept waking me up. All I could wonder was "Why has this god-forsaken child chosen my window to die under? Couldn't he leave me in peace?". I am very unsympathetic when someone wakes me up.

Being disrupted in my sleep cycle, I decided I would finish off whatever was making the sound. I grabbed my baseball bat and ran outside to beat the public menace. I couldn't find anything. Instead, I only found a very worried newspaper delivery guy watching a half dressed young adult storming around his yard with a baseball bat staring down anything that moved on a soggy Tuesday morning.

I was so out of it that I actually thought it was a dream sequence. When my mom asked me that morning why I got up, I knew it had happened. I thought I was crazy, there is nothing on God's green Earth that can replicate the sound I had heard. I tried my best to describe it. I asked about the unearthly sound that can only be described as the cries of a dying child. Being the wise woman she is, my mom instantly knew it must be a cat.

So, for the past couple of months, this cat has had an on-off relationship. It appears at random, but it's always a nuisance making it's hellish screams at unmentionable hours of the morning. However, this night was different.

I was having a late night snack, preparing a s'more, when I hear it, the demonic cries. The sound crescendos disrupting the peaceful night that was putting me in a sleepy mood. My eyes widen, and I no longer hunger for my s'more. I hunger for the destruction of this awful creature that destroys peace for its own pleasure. I run outside looking for the closest weapon to arm myself. I see a mini pumpkin decoration by the door. Picking up the missile, I run out to the street to hunt.

The night air is crisp, awakening my dull senses. Under the streetlight I stare into the shadows for the eloping fiends. I spot one cat creeping near the bush of our house and the other cat on the corner. I launch my missile from my position, and the little pumpkin is intercepted by a tree. It explodes with the crack of a gun shot. The pumpkin shrapnel scatters across the sidewalk. The cats take off down different streets. I pursue with the desire to silence at least one of them, permanently.

My adrenaline is pumping at the excitement of chasing something in the dark. I could hear the beating of my heart in my ears. It feels like a true hunt, with me in pursuit. My legs feel amazing as if they could run forever. The wind cuts into my face as if I'm traveling at high speeds. My eyes adjust to the light, and everything seems so vivid now. The 'thumping' of my feet against the pavement create a tempo that echoes the excitement in my heart. I start cutting across yards, and beat back overgrown bushes with my ape-like limbs. The bushes have become my jungle. I track the cat I, reasoning what path it would consider the safest. I laughed as life pulsed through my veins ready to plunge into the underbrush after my prey. Except, civilization called me back.

My mother heard me exit the house and wanted me back inside before the neighbors saw the lunatic running up and down their street. I went back inside to eat my s'more, but I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to hunt in pre-historic times.

Happy New Year!!!

In the past few years, I neglected to compose New Years Resolutions because, let's face it, I'm astoundingly close to perfect. And the only reason that I'm not completely flawless is because my sole resolution last year was to become less perfect and allow others to feel better about themselves. Of course, I succeeded.

This year, however, is different. The standards of perfection have shifted, with different values being in vogue and new abilities to be learned. It's as if the maximum possible level has been heightened, a la World of Warcraft (which, being perfect, I have certainly never played).

To this end, I will now indite several resolutions for 2010. More may be added as I see fit in the coming days and weeks.

1. Get outside my comfort zone! Do things I know I'm bad at! Don't be afraid of failure! While I had mastered all positive possible activities as of 2008, new entities appeared in 2009, which I resolve to master. Examples include: perfect renditions of Glee songs (choreography included), ability to type 200 words per minute on every mobile phone regardless of how poorly constructed the keyboard is, and of course, the new qualifications for winning the Nobel Peace Prize so that I may win it if I ever so desire.

2. Stop complaining so much. This has been a work in progress, but I suppose inking it down with pixels will enhance this endeavor. It's quite difficult to refrain from complaining when the world is so disappointing. I once proclaimed that I would stop complaining when there stopped existing things worth complaining about. Yet I suppose it's inevitable that not everyone can be as perfect as me, so it might be worth it to accept that sad fact and not incessantly complain about it.

3. Sleep earlier, wake up earlier. This past quarter, I crashed before 9:30 on a few occasions and woke up early to do work before class. I realized that I was much more productive this way, since I become more motivated and diligent as I think to myself: "ugh, I better do work since I'm up this early, otherwise waking up early is a huge waste." This greatly increases my productivity, as opposed to being distracted during the day/night when I usually do my work. Going to bed before 12:30 would be fantastic, since I have 9 am class Monday through Friday. Also, this would be better for the environment, since I would use less electricity by using the natural daylight of the morning. Being so great has its burdens--heroically saving the environment is just one of them.

4. Meet people/make at least one good friend. The view from the top can be a bit lonely. But that doesn't mean the space is totally vacant. While my refined and exquisite standards in judging character inherently puts me at a disadvantage when socializing, I believe that there are lucky beings out there that are worthy of my company. Being around my perfection may also inspire others to achieve, giving more reason to avoid shutting myself out.

5. Develop better spiritual discipline. Work on my foundation in Christ. Relationship with the Creator is a tricky one, but it's certainly worthwhile. After all, He is the original Perfect One, working his perfection at least a few days before I started working mine.

6. Avoid God smiting me due to my hubris :)