Oh so grand, so elusive.

I remember on a YnG meeting night when this one girl came in. She seemed shy, and came with a friend. As Secretary(or clerk, pick your poison), I signed her up and told her to join a group for an icebreaker.

As she walked away, I told myself: This is the girl I'm taking to prom.

Days went by, and way before prom she was gone to another place - known to her, but unknown to most.

The best comparison that I made then was nothing, but now, it's as if I was Andy Roddick playing at Wimbledon only by coming close to the prize, having the opportunity to see it, but not seize it.

It stings, it really does.

Then yesterday (same day of the nicked finger), the same thing from a year ago happened - This one, I'm not going to take to prom, or even try as I've done one prom, and I'll never deal with that mess again, but the same feelings came up again.

I really do wonder though, would I really see Andy Roddick win another Grand Slam again?

It's hard to type without a middle finger.

Yesterday in working for my second day at the Country Club, I managed to nick myself on the finger with a dull knife - let that be a lesson that a dull knife is much more harmful than a sharp one - A paradoxical truth, if there was one.

I finally know the feeling of waking up in the morning and looking forward to go to my job. Sure, though there are a couple language and culture barriers to go around, but beyond all that thickness (accent and all), there's education involved.

But yes, I do a lot of prep work in the CC, thus the result of my finger getting cut deep. I would take a picture of it, but I'm not proud of it as it might go to Rotten.com, or some website of the sort...

August is almost near, and a good chunk of my friends are leaving for their respective colleges. Bitter that I'm not one of them yet, but I'm on my way there, and I don't even want to think about the prospect me counting how many more days are left before I leave California...

As of this point, I'm tired, bored, and hungry. For some reason, I want to go to see a movie, play tennis - anything that puts me in escape of this reality... at least for the moment...

Tired and Working

It's feels weird to be a functioning part of the society.

Today, I started my work at the Country Club. It's definitely different from what I expected, but I definitely had fun because I never had a dull moment until the end, five minutes before going home.

After work, I literally slept for three, or four hours until my mom called me from Lake Tahoe camping (still somewhat bitter that I didn't get to go camping with Katz and crew, but I'm way past that bitterness and mumbo jumbo).

So here I am, still awake typing this blog, talking to one of my better friends, Aubrey. (I don't believe in the best friend theory, but if you want to have a conversation with it, I'm definitely down since everyone loves a good conversation)

I was watching FOX the whole night for the whole time I've been awake (the other hour was when I microwaved chicken meatballs and attempted to make a sunny side up egg - I really do wonder how people do it, it pisses me off). One of the shows was Hell's Kitchen - it really does scare the shit out of me, both as a person and a future chef, since all those mistakes shows that even the most capable of people can be vulnerable to mistakes, and Gordon Ramsay demeaning people in a very fast rate just adds the cherry on top I suppose....

The other show that I watched was called "More To Love" - supposedly another version of the Bachelor (after all, it was from the makers of "The Bachelor"), and I thought the show was cute, ridiculous, common... too many thoughts follow after that. I guess all it does is it advertises or promotes some sort of admiration for the human form, advertise plus size. Call me ignorant, but I have far too many thoughts in this show and I'm typing this half asleep...

I also just realized that in a matter of weeks, I'll be able to produce Just Dood It shirts. I still have to design it, but if people want one, get one... later on.

Complex Carbohydrates

Food Fact: The origin of most alcoholic beverages are from starchy products such as potatoes, rice and wheat.

Therefore, this question: What's the connection between starchy products, and alcoholic beverages, besides the one posted above?

Starchy products contain complex carboyhdrates, and a certain person drinks one, I act towardly around them...

For some reason, I've been a main attraction to the blacked out and the buzzed. Last night, I dealt with a blacked out cousin who left three voicemail messages that I got a really good laugh out of, and wished I had a camera to put his shameful yet funny actions on YouTube and tonight I dealt with a buzzed, buzzier and sober (I liked the sober one - he had a brain)

I got a call around midnight tonight to pick a friend up since this specific friend was buzzed (therefore the statement above). So, due to an act of kindness as well as one to kill time (I suppose), I drove to the place, picked the people up and drop them off.

In the middle of this ride, I found myself once again gravitating for this person, as I have done several times in the past. I have to be thinking to myself at this point that I am more complex than a complex carbohydrate because I have so many sides of my personality in this one: The parental saying that I don't really care and do it in moderation, The friend who tries to create the small talk, and the geek who couldn't find the words to say to the hottest cheerleader in school.

From that point on, I really had nothing to say - drove home, put everything away as if nothing happened, had a meal of too much spaghetti with a little bit of stale garlic bread...

Irony how this came from a person who just ate complex carbs...

2 O' Clock Blues

I'm supposedly awake at two in the morning because I've got a missing racket, and a drunk guy to deal with.

The fun side of these drunk people is that I wish I had a fucking camera around. I wouldn't really drop the F-bomb here, but saying that only emphasizes as to how necessary the camera is. I mean really, you can get them to believe that blue is red, or Lindsay Lohan is straight. On the downside however, they talk excessively and keep you up in the morning...

I guess that's what partially summer's all about: getting wake up by some drunk dude and in turn you're permanently up. (I suppose that a two hour nap helps as well in the matter of being awake later than my supposed bedtime.)

Besides the drunk guy, I'm paranoid about my racket. Really, it's a five buck Salvation Army racket, but I care about it so much because I feel good while playing on it... Sigh, I really do hope that I get it back on monday, or someone else has it.... if not, it's back to Salvation Army for me to buy a new racket. If not, just look for the same dimensions, hopefully more beasty and more pretty...

Talk-o Tuesday

It's very exciting when a dog learns new tricks...

For instance, I just imported this blog into Facebook so that it posts not only here, but there as well, making it more convenient for people to read!

Speaking of learning new tricks, or learning in general that I was an uber-noob in playing regular poker with a bunch of guys who know about it more than I do. My problem is not so much with the Ron White issue, being that I can't see my odds compared to others as well as their cards, but I'm too mild-mannered. It's as if I'm not myself... For some reason though, after a couple sips of Arizona, I felt a bit better, a little more loose I suppose - playing better.

And speaking of luck, I remember watching an episode in Reba (definitely a good show), where Reba wasn't feeling lucky at all, and she asks Van as how to feel lucky. "You just feel...lucky" - That's the advice that he gave.

Another thought that I'm having in my mind is a guilty conscience for calling an employer multiple-as in possibly too many times about a job/internship/work-study, pick your poison. I now know the feeling that Andy Kamm was describing in Economics class saying that if people are deprived of water, they become extremely animalistic, which in metaphorical terms, a response deprivation led me to desperation calling at least three wrong numbers from an outdated catering website, missing the last digit of a phone number, leaving several messages, etc.

In more about my impatience, I also received a letter from Johnson and Wales about their Welcome Week Brochure, right before getting the mail, just right after getting the call about starting on Tuesday. It's like "Seriously God, can I just please have a break?". I know there's a year left, and much like Julie did, I've got to suck it up, except that it wasn't a what seems to be a biohazard in Julie's fridge...

Tomorrow's Wednesday, and I'm pretty sure that the whole guilt trip about the multiple call debacle would be over, much like that other problem I had with something that my mom said in the past...

To Que: It didn't take me ten years.

(Locating Que: See Dodgers logo. Follow down the line, look for a off-white shirt with black stripes)

Since my good friend Quemars Ahmed was having a hissy bitch fit about his name not being on the Associated Press article in which Manny Ramirez passed Mickey Mantle with his 537th homerun, I'd figure that I'd put a nice little touch of "FOB" on it.

-------------------

Manny Ramirez of the Los Angeles Dodgers moved past Mickey Mantle and into 15th place of the career homerun list Monday night, hitting a two run shot off Cincinatti's Micah Owings for the 537th of his career.

Ramirez, who tied Mantle on July 10, drove a 2-0 pitch into the left filed pavilion, a ball caught buy La Canada's own Quemars Ahmed, to give the Dodgers a 6-3 lead. The crowd at Chavez Ravin yelled Quemars' name in unison hoping for a camera shot of him waving the milestone that never came.

Regarding the catch, Ahmed says that "he felt for bad for the guys who lost it", then goes asking if he saw him in television.

Ramirez's next target is Mike Schmidt at 548 homeruns, and here's hoping that he catches this one as well.

Still Simmering.

I had an interview this Tuesday at the Manhattan Country Club, and I'm supposed to get a call by Thursday, which is today.

Not getting the call puts a lot of thoughts in my head such as if I did something wrong, Chef's very busy, I didn't smile enough during the interview, I gave him the wrong number, etc.

Just because of that, I finally feel a girl's pain when a guy says he'll call, but doesn't.

Because of this situation, I've had my phone with me at all times today, constantly waiting for a call - much like watching a boiling pot.

There's a phrase that goes: "A watched pot does not boil", and perfectly applies in this situation.

Because I've been waiting for that one call, I've been nervous, a Negative Nancy to a degree, and pissed out of my mind - really, a bad combination for a very good summer day.

Therefore, I wanted to take a mental health day for myself - but can't seem to pull it off. I wanted to go to Best Buy and "shop" around for an iPod converter for the car, and play free Rock Band/Guitar Hero while I'm at it, or go to Borders and read some Cooking books - after all, a little enlightenment during the summer won't hurt.

I also feel like doing these things such as getting a basketball and shoot hoops all day at Rowley Park, or go to Venice Beach and feed Chex Mix to seagulls in miracles of hearing "Mine?, Mine?" (which obviously won't happen - as rule of nature states... bah). Maybe it's because of my lack of cash, or effort?

Not to find a reason to depress or piss myself off, but I'm so desperate for an internship that I don't even care if I work for free because this is the best culinary school I'm going to. It's like, I need one so that I know what I can do next - come up with creative ways to earn money, or apply for an internship somewhere in Venice...

I believe that something is simmering in this moment - I can feel it, and I can smell it (hope The Rock's not cooking it). Until then, I'll wait for this simmer to come to a boil and enjoy summer like regular people are.

AVP Tour is this Saturday, I can't wait.

Box of Shapes

I was cleaning through my computer earlier and saw my essay when I was applying for CONA.

I'll always remember that last night at Sacramento where "Westchester" was called and Scott's name followed.

Four months have past, school ended, people graduated, and people had a blast at CONA. I completely forgot about it until Facebook posts and pictures were finally up.

I then realized this : There's a toy from our childhood where there were shapes, in one big box, and you try and pick up the shapes and put them into the hole that fits. The box signifies as to how a lot of us - people with potential belong in the same box, but divided because of our different shapes in our career paths, in our choices, in our skill sets.

Having the usual is good when you're eating, but there's a reason why there's a menu: So you can change your usual.

Monkey Bars

So I just got back from Hemet for a niece's birthday. My shoulders ache at this moment, it's late at night, I'm tired, but I'm here writing anyway.

The thing that I vividly remember the most was this kid who wanted to cross the monkey bars. My initial thought was "What the hell", as I continued sitting on my swing silently. But this certain kid was so determined to cross the monkey bars as he said "Please, help me across, or else I'm going to die". So out of kindness I helped the kid across, he went down and went running onto the pool (or somewhere else, not knowing his exact whereabouts).

I don't know why this kid wanted to cross the monkey bars even though I said no at least three times (or really, who keeps track) but his perseverance and happiness in the end capped off my day by inspiring me to write about this, as well as visit a good fraction of my childhood albeit it's tiny proportion.

Although we as adults have a more developed mind than a kid who is at least five to seven years old, there is always a part of us that wants to cross certain monkey bars in our lives. Sometimes, there are obstacles in some derivative of a refusal due to a lack of trust or spontaneity within them.

After all, "Journey" once said that "Don't stop believing, hold on to that feeling."

Cheetos and Diet Coke

Although I think that spending the night on a beach with a gallon of Diet Coke and a bag of Cheetos while feeling the ocean breeze is one of the greatest feelings ever, it's always the greatest feeling when I help someone out with their problems. It makes me feel as if I am a real friend to that person while gaining a better perspective in life.

Silly Putty

It took a silly putty to revitalize Rusty Cartwright's dream of becoming a polymer scientist.

For all it's worth, a silly putty can't get my anything, and I could probably get myself a greasy five dollar box meal from KFC instead of buying one.

But why a silly putty?

Rusty thought that the silly putty was amazing for all the things it could do: it could bounce, it had the clay-like characteristics, or it could copy pages from comics and transfer them to another sheet of paper.

I just realized why I haven't been able to write as well or as freely as I could: I had no inspiration to write much like Rusty Cartwright had no inspiration to study polymer science anymore because he thought that the seminar he was attending at the time was long, tedious and boring.

At some point of our lives, we will lose passion for what we want to do because we have doubts within ourselves, or the standards that we have to upkeep to keep our dreams satisfied. Sometimes, it takes a silly putty, or an object of your choice to remind us of what we are doing, what and what we want to do because we know that deep down inside, we know that we are not faking our ambitions.

P.S - Watch Greek. It's awesome.

Sunshine Cleanse

Today, I found myself with nothing to do except watch "Greek", watch a pomeranian and a beagle sleep, and play chess online so I decided to clean up.

While cleaning up, I found a lot of "crap" from my four years of High School - I swear, I didn't even know I had these things lurking around in my notebook until now... at least I know some of them...

One of the things that I had to clean out today was my red college folder, as it had the stuff from Johnson and Wales on it.

I remember the day when I got the folder (and for underclassmen that are applying to college next year, getting the folder means you got accepted, and if you get the small envelope, then... you know the rest), I was ecstatic and started filling it out that day that I actually got so busy for those three weeks that I had to stress over a hundred and fifty dollar medical bill and the hassle of three hundred dollars to pay my deposit while calling the school to make sure that it actually went through.

Then, fast forward to today, it ended with a single email: "You are now coded as Will Not Enter for JWU Fall 09-10. Good luck in CIA and have a good summer".

At that moment, it felt like I shot myself in the foot, but I dodged it somehow with an accomplishment of another scholarship on deck, which has the conditions of me of not failing (anything with a C from this point on is plainly unacceptable).... It's scary.

Another thing that I had to clean out today was my notebook. I found recommendation letters for a YnG internship, a recommendation letter from two years back (I still can't believe that I wanted to go to Berkeley and ultimately failed in the end), statistics notes and bored blogs, as I would like to call them.

Despite all of this nostalgia of the 12-step process of getting over high school, I find myself wanting to frame certain mementos - From drawings in statistics class to bored blogs to doodles in Sacks', but can't as either it's with someone else, or I threw away most of them by now besides that one specific doodle.

Ultimately, I learned that getting rid of most things that remind myself of the past is the best way to get over it and actually move on. Unless I find a better solution, then this better is method for now.

College - Before the women and the drinking.

Why is it that everytime I figure something out, something else comes along?

For instance, I register today at El Camino, and picked out my classes. Then, I read the note with the placement paper: Go to a counselor for an orientation meeting, and pick out your classes.

What.

For some odd reason, the thought of not having a counselor since "I know what I'm doing" notion seems weird. I'm used to having counselors and all that, and it seems that not having one is unorthodox or illegal.

Maybe I should just do what I think's right. After all, I have nothing else to lose except time, two dollars and maybe drips of gas.

My Graduation Speech.

“All great things must come to an end”. Should it? Some of us say that high school is currently the best time of their lives. “Yeah, so far”, as Homer Simpson would say. Class of 2009, we have lived seventeen or eighteen years and we’re already declaring that our high school experiences are the best times of our lives?

Dreams do not need age to come true. What it really needs is passion.

A month ago, I went to Colorado for a college tour, saw a parent and wondered to myself: What is she doing here?

It turns out that she is planning to be a student at this college, and when we introduced ourselves, she said: “I came from Puerto Rico with two children, and now that they are gone doing their own thing, I can finally do what I have been wanting to do this whole time!”

Ladies and Gentlemen, This woman perfectly embodies this year’s class motto: “The key to happiness is having dreams. The key to success is making them come true”. This woman endured time and other intangibles such as the happiness and the trouble that kids bring to pursue her dream.

At that moment, it humbled me; an eighteen year old with dreams of being one of the best chefs in the country, reminding me to not take my chances for granted as well as fight for every opportunity possible.

All great things will come to an end if we let it, and as for us students, High school might be the greatest time of our lives so far, but it won’t be our greatest one (as our parents might agree to that) as there will be years ahead of us where anything anything can happen that our high school memories will become second or third fiddle to our best memory – whatever it may be – yet.

Like this woman who is closing her chapter on motherhood to pursue something that satisfies her, we are closing our chapter of childhood to do the same thing, as we are welcomed to the real world after receiving these high school diplomas.

Let this thought strike fear in your heart momentarily as every adult here has felt this fear at some point of their life. However, let it not strike fear in our hearts forever as we know that we have our family, friends, and God(who we all would like to generally thank), who have instilled their wisdom upon us for the same purpose: To prosper in the next stage.

Remember that much like a tree, we grow in different directions, yet our roots remain as one, and each of our lives will always be a special part of the other’s, where we will be always remembered by someone, and much like reading a book, you can always go back to it, no matter how many times you do so.

Raunchy for Teriyaki?

Does anyone have of those moments where someone sees something that reminds them of someone? In a bad way?

I was watching a Carls Jr. commercial with Audrina Partridge on it (from "The Hills") that advertised their Chicken Teriyaki Six Dollar Burger, and it was civil, until I looked at her, and thought to myself: "Hm, she looks like someone I know". I kept thinking, and there it was. (Won't exactly say who the person is, but if someone brings it up with me in a conversation, then I just might talk about it.)

Not that I don't like Carl's Jr. or anything as I usually eat there for pre and post Youth and Government conferences, but thinking about that person in the same league as Audrina Partridge is shallow, and offensive.

Then again, that's just me.