This whole Kanye West craze is ridiculous.  One might say that his interruption of Taylor Swift's acceptance speech was a public stunt, it sure didn't look like it with her face almost somewhat teary-eyed, and a sudden boo from the audience.  Oh well.  Here's another South Park episode dedicated to the Kanye's asshole personality.

I realized that I blog so late at night is that it's the perfect time that I could sift my thoughts in silence.  At this point, I'm not really doing that, but I can live.

I've been doing homework for my Developmental Reading/Writing class, and so far it's just tedious.  I don't know why I forget to do it at the last minute, as if I've forgotten that I spent ten dollars on a planner.  Seriously, ten dollars on a planner?  That's a ripoff.

But going on with the class, I expect my book(s) to arrive tomorrow, so that I can use them in class to review.  All this night though, I've been studying or completing sections that only relate to context clues.  I don't even think I needed a dictionary for some of them.

As for my math, I'm still sticking to my dislike of word problems.  It's not that I don't have the ability to work on them, it's just that I have too many distractions in my life, but so far, I'm coasting through it rather nicely.

I can't believe that this is my birthday week.  I'll be nineteen soon, and all I really have to say is I'm excited about Saturday, though I'm very nervous as to how it will turn out.

The weirdest and most interesting conversations come in between 11 evening until I go to sleep.

I'm having one with Hassan right now who for some reason is giving me the rundown of the people I've liked in the past.  It's funny in a way now that I can laugh at it, since back then it was a stressful period of time just having those people affecting a portion of my thought process.

I've also been trying to come up with a creative way to answer the ten things that I want to tell people.  I only have five people to tell things to at the moment.  That, and as much as I want to be very, very straightforward, I have to keep in mind that my blog is exported in facebook, thus my facebook friends get to read it, and with a portion of them being adults, I respect their opinions of me, plus some so I really do not want to put my grievances out there as a whole.

Since this is the weekend, I don't have anything else to write.  Nothing around me as of this moment stimulates thought... Maybe Arielle's essay, which I should give a second look since she gave me her second draft of it.  Before that though was a day of watching college football games, playing tennis, doing math sections and messing around with my laptop...

If you actually read this, I encourage you to read letlive's blog.  The "food for thought" section is amazing.

My room is not a mecca of cleanliness, as it is in fact the opposite.

I can see without turning my head a couple of plates, cd's, notebooks, wires, and a book that I just recently got.  The book is called Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain where he talks about the secrets of the restaurant business - in a somewhat bad way, however realistic.

I've been dying to read Anthony Bourdain the first time I've ever heard him talk on Top Chef.  This man is very straightforward, brash and good at what he does.  He's an American Gordon Ramsay, if you will. 

I haven't read the book yet - I've just read the introudction and skip a couple of words, then sentence here and there and all of a sudden, the whole thing since my cousin kept humming "Don't Stop Believing" along with the noise of the television during the process.  It's not worth reading or doing anything at all if you're distracted.  That's just my theory.

I also just got done playing Sims 3 for a couple hours and the shit gets boring especially when the family (mine being me, my "wife", and children - two girls) goes crazy.  Funny thing is that I named my twin girls Casey and Ashleigh (really, I did, and the part that's upcoming after will only be comprehended by those who watch Greek).  When they became toddlers (of course, babies all look the same), Casey was brunette and Ashleigh was blonde.  I'm not kidding, and even I had to laugh at it.

But not to over analyze a game, where did the blonde hair come from knowing that me and "my wife" have black hair?

Uh-oh. (Oreo?)

As for other parts of my day, I came down to Westchester High to drop off some strings.  I'm glad that I was welcomed back, and it's so much better being an outsider than being an insider by not experiencing the crappy administration that it has to offer along with many other factors, of course.

At work today, there was a caterpillar on the salad.  It still makes me wonder how it got there considering that every piece of lettuce is washed, spun and all that mumbo jumbo.  Maybe it did fall out of a tree, who knows.  But my boss was pretty livid about it and eventually saw the light that is the logic of it falling off a tree.  Whew.

Birthday's in a week.  I'm psyched.

I don't know if I'll write at this rate of two blogs a night.  I'm not even trying, it's just that so much thought spews out of my brain that I need to actually get it out so I can sleep decently at night.

I wouldn't say that this happened for the first time in my life, but for the first time in a while, someone told me that they missed me.  It actually made my day, and like Mark Twain, I could live off these words (or in his case, compliments) for a month.

My other thought is that taking this English Class would add some vocabulary to my arsenal of words.  I feel like a test subject in Flowers for Algernon, where Charlie, the main character, becomes a test subject for intelligence pills that do actually work.

Although they did work, it worked for a short amount of time.  Side note, Charlie "speled lyk dis" - something not is not really ebonics however resembling the said format.

While I feel that this english class will boost my vocabulary, It'll be lost again sometime until I either memorize it or use it over and over again. 

That's what school is for, right?

I find myself jamming lately to Glee's version of "Gold Digger" despite missing a good portion of it.  Oh well, it's a family show.

But I had a couple of thoughts during work today, one of them being the difference between a punch and a kick and how my "Perfect 20" Youth and Government shirt related to it.

Besides the obvious differences of a punch and a kick with fists for punches and legs for kicks, I realized that we describe our food that has a certain "punch" of flavor, or a "kick" of a certain flavor.

It's not PEMDAS, it's not interchangable.

Punch is the "word" used if you want to describe it as having a lot of flavor. Think about it.  Why do you think fruit punch is so fucking sweet that it can melt your enamel away?

Kick, on the other hand is primarily used for spicy stuff.  As if I ate some uber-spicy ice cream in North Carolina (I've actually read an article over AOL over this) where you have to sign a waiver before you get to eat it.  But yes, a "kick" is spice just goes off in your mouth, like a flame, or something of the sort.

Just thought I'd put that out there.

My second thought is that I wore my "Perfect 20" shirt after a long while.

For those who don't know, 20 is the highest score you can get on your proposal in the National Issues Commission program in Youth and Government.  It needs to have Creativity, Debatability and all that other stuff.  (Maybe this is why I don't deserve to be an intern? lol.)

But yes.  Those two, plus three other unmentioned/forgotten categories add up to a score up to twenty.  For the rest of the synopsis about the program, join Youth and Government and join NIC.

It's fun, and yes I'm promoting the Youth and Government program.

Now, back to my life. ( I know, I'm such an ass.)

My boss told me today that I get to "experience democracy" by being in the Employee's Committee.

Yup.

So basically, this is somewhat Youth and Government for me all over again, but with grown-ups and Managers.  I repeat, managers.  The thoughts in my head are flowing faster than the water in Niagara falls.  I've been working in the club for two months, and I do not know anything that goes around the system!

That's why I'm here for, right?

But after a monologue from my British general manager (yes, he's British, he wants England to win the World Cup, and he's a proud drunk while being an avid English soccer fan), I had a really good time with it and felt very professional.

Also, note to self:  Use proper grammar when blogging.  Partial reason why I have a crappy grade reading level...

I suppose that would be all...

This is going to be my real post for tonight.  You can read the last post that I had if you want to, but my philosophy is that if I put it out there, then it's out there.  It's like food that I make, people consume it and it'll never go back.  Maybe it does, but it all turns out to be fecal matter.

Today is my third day at El Camino.  I'm starting to gain stride as a student again despite my 12.5 + 8.5 = 21.0/2 = 10.5 grade level reading average, or so a test said.

Alex once said something about how tests shouldn't determine our lives.  Then again, Naomi said that it doesn't really determine as to what we are, it just verifies it.

As for a side note, Alex and Naomi are two of my friends, and with all due respect, I won't release their last names.

But going back to the test.  As much as I'm disappointed about my sophomore-reading level, there's a lot of variables that go into this:

1. I hated high school level reading.  I.E - Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Sound and The Fury.  Sorry Mr. Mernin.

2. 2's on both my AP Lit and AP English tests.  I don't really know if that's just a matter of bad test-taking or a lack of reading comprehension or both.  Someone give me a dose of harsh reality.

Going back to the topic of college, it's these two factors, plus some of course that carried me into these class.  After all, old habits die hard, or the domino effect theory.  Pick your poison.

I was sitting in my english class and I can't help but notice the people around me.  There's this one person who keeps nodding his head left to right.  He nods his head enough as if you can put a Jim Carrey voice-over in Yes Man where the scene of the tow truck driver says "NO MAN. NO MAN".  Then I learned he was blind.  I guess it all becomes understandable....

Another person that stands out in my class is this person who sits next to me.  He hasn't brought his supplies for english, and I've been lucky enough to shop in bulk that my manila folders were gone in half and I was two more scantrons short.  However, I'm not going to complain about it (partial lie here), since I was willing to give up some supplies.  "It's like kindergarten again", as Gabriella Montez (High School Musical - shoot me if you may for such an allusion) says.  Give a juice box, gain a friendship.  Something like that, I guess.

Going on with this person, I felt the essence of Westchester again sitting in Kamm's economics/government class where a majority of the people there are academically deprived, and some of them are just there for the credit (myself, for example, but this time, it really counts).  He constantly texts on his phone as I can hear his phone vibrate, and texts while the professor is giving lectures, and cracking jokes right in front of her.  I don't really mind that kinda attitude, but I wouldn't act like an idiot to someone who controls my fate as of the moment.

Going into Math class, I also feel very confident as this is intermediate algebra.  I have said in the past that I have hit roadblocks with my homework, and I'm feeling that roadblock once again, just for a couple sections, of course but a roadblock nonetheless.

My professor reminds me of a Mernin/Alex (Schmiddy) fuse.  He somewhat has Alex's features (but from afar), with a Mernin attitude (he was a guitarist too).  His lectures are easy and simple, and I never get bored with it, considering that solving math problems keeps me busy enough.

I keep looking at the bottom right corner of my laptop and it reads 12:07 and ongoing.  I still have work tomorrow, and I really don't want to look dead on my station.  Also, my back hurts a bit.  I don't know why, and I still have to copy forty pages from a book tomorrow.  That's five dollars, at least.  Blah....

I love college?

I'm stuck as to what to write between my experiences in English class or my oddly weird unknown fetish?

I think I'll go for the first one, since the thought has been marinating too much in my head that Tom Collicchio would tell me it's overkill.

It's my fourth day at El Camino.  Correct me, third day since there was labor day.  I am finally an established student (or I guess I can say that considering I usually get my groove on after the third day).

The thought that lingers most in my mind as of the moment is my reading level, which is why I've decided to write this little piece in the first place:  To disobey my professor's orders and to share the world what I got despite telling us that these scores should be private.

On one test, I got a 12.5 reading level (grade level, go figure) and on some RFU (forgot what it actually was, but go look it up anyway), I'm a high school freshman.

How embarassing?

Whatever.

As for the other part of this blog, you can message me about it because it's not something to be told over facebook.  To tell you the truth, it's an observation, not necessarily a fetish.  So there.

Work tomorrow.  Leaving my station at 12 while short two people will not leave my conscience and I can hear Chef yelling on me a la Ramsay by calling me either a stupid cow or a lazybitch or somewhere along those lines.

But yeah, I hope not.

So far, I am finding my math sets easy except for two sections, and as for another one that's currently work in progress, I just think it's too tedious, but at the same time easy.

I guess this is what I go to school for, huh?

I've said in the past that I was very skeptical going into college because of my lack of academic ability.  So far, I'm proud to say that I'm making progress, except that I'm for some reason worried that I'll need my books tomorrow for english and they won't be in the mail two days until my birthday.

Looks like someone's gonna head out to El Camino early to copy some chapters.

Back to progress.  I said that I was making progress because I find my math homework very do-able so far, but I guess for homeworks, I really do have to hit up the library to really get into it.  Seriously, libraries are like those rehab places to "seclude" you from the real world and it's "evils", kind of like rehab places and the drugs thing.

Speaking of school, I'm glad that my mates (the younger ones, of course) are starting school.  I'm only saying this because they are on their way out, and really... after four years, who wouldn't want to be out in the shit-hole that is high school and the drama that surrounds it?

However though, just because it's a shit-hole it doesn't mean that you can't enjoy the better moments you experience in there.  It's a shit-hole for a reason: Crap goes out of it, then there's that sudden relief then there's things being digested then it turns into crap.

It's just another cycle in our lives, really.

To end in a happy note, it looks like that I'm going to sleep early considering that it felt like I didn't get any today, especially during  rush at work

Note to self:  Prep better, bring two sharpies, cover all your bases.

Goodnight to everyone, school tomorrow.

Why did I even write this?

I hate the feeling when "my heart drops".

I don't even know how to explain it, it's like someone punched inside your heart or something... You have to experience it for yourself.

But yes, I've been playing Sims 3 for hours and this might be a sign that I need a new game.  MLB 2k9, FTW?

I also found out that Sims 3 is having an expansion pack.  Yay for expansion packs, because this one certainly needs it.

The Circle of Life

I don't understand how a relationship works.

There's a lot of stories behind them. Some met at a Starbucks, someone decided to be a jackass on Facebook to see if people had the same name as him (which he did, and they ended up getting married somewhere), or some people meet them doing eHarmony... so on, so forth.

For some reason, I believe that asking every girl/woman (whichever) out is pathetic. Then again, how do you find out if this person's the one?

Then if you do find "the one", you become talk and become friends with them until at some point you decide to ask them out and they decide to tell you that you're at a dead end with a friendship and a friendship only along with "sorry" and a hug. It's insult added to injury, then you're just back to square one.

Pretty much, this whole ordeal can be summed up as....

(See title above)

I've been starting one draft after another, and there's nothing worthy to post about. This is not the AP test where I have to post whatever I write after two hours of reading essays and making bullshit up. I write because I feel like it, and like Eminem, as much as I need a new outlet, I really don't have anything.

Therefore, as much as I mention all my problems with people going out to Colorado, people going to un-hawt Jewish frat parties at Berkeley or people beating me to relationships, I can't really do anything about it except to swallow the damn pill of reality and live with it.

I really think that the source of frustration right now comes with the pressure of me keeping a getting a B in a math class, though I am taking two classes, which one really is a Pass/Fail, but I still have to pass the exit exam, kind of like an evolved CAHSEE of sorts. So really, this math class is an "A or else you're stagnant for the rest of your life". That, and the fact that it's such a long way to go makes it so much harder....

But I picked this route, and now I'm going to deal with it. New York, here I come.

Snap back to reality!

Guess who's back in the scholastic society.

That's right, I'm back, but this time... more refined.

But yes, I started my first day at El Camino College with my Developmental Reading and Writing English and my Intermediate Algebra class. I guess it's what I get after four years of trying "hard" in high school...

When I signed up for classes, I architected them so that it fits seamlessly into my schedule. Little did I know that my English class had a Wednesday class as well, forcing me to either drop it out, or lose a day of work... I hope I do get the latter though I lose another forty-eight dollars or so. I mean, in my situation right now, I'd rather lose forty-eight dollars than sixty thousand... Don't you think?

But yes, let me walk you through my day.

My first class was Developmental Reading and writing. I drove around a parking structure for fifteen minutes, got lost a bit, then I sat down to read Jay Rayner's book and got a good chapter in. Went in the class, took roll and took a test that tests (obviously what tests do) my reading ability.

Say what?

Yeah, I got placed in this class because I got a 59 percent in my reading comprehension, and I needed a sixty to get into English 1A. The reality is though, I think I might need that class because I need a vocabulary, and gain some more interest in reading. That, and it's a pass/fail class, so it really is a blessing in disguise.

My second class was Intermediate Algebra. Before this class, I had the fifty minute test in English, which I finished early on. I was supposed to have a half hour break in between classes, but now it has become an hour. FML.

So, to spend my hour, I dug down on some subway, despite Andy Kamm (my econ teacher)'s beliefs of it being bum food, and read more of Jay Rayner's book, to the point where I'm very much close to finishing it.

Back to Algebra. We went to class, had a sub and talked about lines. Slopes, midpoint formulas, graphing... That stuff. Long story short, we got out half an hour early, got a super expensive textbook, got home and watched Greek...

After that craziness, I started my homework I think an hour ago, and it hurts my wrists and patience to graph all fucking night. That's why I decided to just start this blog up and finish up the rest of the work that's due tomorrow....

Don't follow my example. Finish your stuff in time, always. For now, I'm just gonna settle in until one of my major problems gets fixed tomorrow, and that is asking for Wednesdays off...

Youth and Government Intern Essay. Yus.

The hardest thing for a child to do is to make a monumental decision and endure the emotional sting of leaving his friends without saying a simple see-you-later or a goodbye. I experienced this eight years ago, when I made the choice to leave Phillipines to head out for the States, where many consider is a huge mansion with many doors and windows open for opportunity.

My first three years here would be something I would call my transitional phase. Even though I had my aunt, cousin and mother (who has stayed in the States three years prior to my arrival) to help slowly integrate me in the American society/culture, I felt that it wasn't enough as every choice came down with me and every choice came down with a result whether it was a good one or a bad one.

My very first year in the States in seventh grade, I was the stereotypical immigrant Asian kid: The perfectionist, the one with the straight A's, and only knew basketball as a sport. Because of these three traits combined, I was often taken advantage of whether it was borrowing my basketball and returning it to me after a long period of time (three days maximum), or being the next best answer source since google for a problem that is as simple as "5 + x = 9, what is X?".

Because of this problem, I either had to just take it day by day and tolerate it, or totally change my routine. I picked the latter. I chose to be the stereotypical immigrant Asian kid, minus the basketball because I realized that I was no good compared to these people, and I was too homesick with my friends who were the reason as to why I started in the first place. This is why instead, I found a new group of kids, one that had obsessions with MegaMan and Gameboys who hang out at my math teacher's room during lunch. Thinking about it as I am writing this, I truly have no regrets hanging out with a dorky crowd, because I didn't really care or knew about the caste system of popularity that went on. I stuck with the option of being myself, and even though I was getting my end kicked at MegaMan, it was all worth it: I got to play my GameBoy during lunch, and kept my academic standard up, pushing for a 4.0.

If we are birds flying around this huge mansion of opportunity with many windows and doors open, we have the privilege to perch up on a window and see what's inside it, but never forget that we still are birds and still have the ability to fly and explore if we ever felt like it and find something better.

Feeling Blank.

I'm seriously jammed in answering a question for the Youth and Government internship application. The question is: "Give us one example of a time that you have had to adjust the way you dealt with a difficult situation independently".

As much as I would love to share my story of when I emigrated here in 2002, or the time that I changed behind a bench on Manchester and Lincoln, I feel like a contenstant in "The Next Food Network Star" who's running out of stories to share, but has so much potential.

If anything, I'd write about the temporary emotional sting of "losing" people to other places while they experience something new, and I'm stuck here to more of the same with the lingering thought in my head that I won't put up to expecations that may possibly just put me in the same place forever.

I don't want to be the guy who says shit happens for a reason, because it's a sign of weakness (yes, I did read that recently on the letlive blog - out of all places), and I'm starting to believe it.

Maybe after this one, I won't be blank on that question anymore - who knows?

Shrill-Ville

There's something about my mother's voice that I can't stand.

I don't know, it's like this really high pitched shrill sound that when she asks me, or anyone else, that sounds like she's a straight up foreigner (which she really is).

I hate hearing these kinds of sounds, and especially after a good night home, it's either the last thing that I want to hear, or at least I don't mind hearing it as long as she has nothing to bitch about.

But seriously, it's one of those voices that I cannot stand, and because I have no punching bag or some heavy cushioned outlet to punch on, I'm "punching" in my anger with a keyboard. Oh puns, ever so lovely.

But yeah, it's eleven in the evening now, and I think that's the last of that very shrill, accented voice that is my mother's. Here's hoping to I didn't miss anything that she notices, because I'm tired, and I really don't want to do anything else.

Collegiate Blues

There is something about anxiety that removes the bliss of anything in our lives.

I just got paid today, I just got a laptop, I should be happy. But instead, here I am thinking about having to maintain a 3.0 in El Camino so that I could still go to the Culinary Institute of America, unscathed from debt with a sixty grand scholarship at hand.

I'm so anxious to start college that if I get my first piece of homework, I'll do it right away, and if I ever looked at the syllabus and the professor said that the test is this day, I'll study hard for it. I mean, that's the only solution to this problem of nervousness and anxiety where I don't know what to expect, and I don't know what to do next, and I hate that feeling.

I mean, what are the odds of failing especially if you meet twice a week, for two hours a day? Slim? Fat? What, are we talking about people now?

But in all seriousness, I've been thinking about responsibility and I keep wanting it, but I keep avoiding it, much like wanting a girlfriend but not exactly dating anyone because she's not pretty enough or she doesn't have a palate for good ice cream.

I went to Best Buy today, and my mom ever so desperately wanted me to get a credit card. Idiot here (myself) decides to put an estimate on his income at about 10,000 dollars a year, which I totally hope isn't, and maybe that's the primary cause for me not getting it. What's worse is that they suggested the co-sign option, which basically tells someone that if you screw up, you take your co-signer down with you.

I don't want that.

But really, would you say that it was trying to avoid responsibility because I didn't want to harm my mother on the process, or am I really just biting off more than I could chew with this whole responisiblity thing...

See what anxiety does to you? It drives you nuts.

One more week. I'm stoked.

Frosted Flakes are great, flakes aren't.

Prior to this note, this is just for myself because I've been dying to have this picture for a while albeit it's simplicity: http://www.allaboutalton.com/graphics2/knives.jpg

Yay.

But I've noticed lately that I've been a flake in a lot of things that I'm supposedly been wanting to do lately.

I went to the gym and felt like shit, to the point where I don't even know where I'm doing that I switch from one machine to another every five minutes (I.E Treadmill, Stairmaster, and whatever the heck you call that other one with your feet moving without running - supposedly works your glutes, hammies, etc.).

I've also been a flake on my supposedly new blog, though I really do think that I have ingredients in the house that I could use, but I'm being very obsessive compulsive about a complete pantry before doing a recipe before I do it, so there's another reason for that...

Maybe it's my lack of sleep that causes all of my thoughts for today, I mean seriously, as much as I want my pet to lick me to oblivion to wake me up, I don't like the idea of four or five of them jumping at me at... eight in the morning?

It's the weekend for christ sakes, and I want my sleep. Until I get my money and motivation to do something, all I really want to do is sleep.

Yep. Sleep sounds good right now at 9:35 in the evening...

Word of the day: Insipid

At this time, I'm finding life to be the word of the day.

I don't know if it takes place because I'm tired and partially insane due to the lack of sleep or whether it's just there's nothing interesting to do as my computer is still virused out as fuck (here's hoping that Mark can fix my problem - reminder to self: Drop by Mark's.) and Facebook is on it's randomly allocated website maintenance.

I don't really know.

Maybe it's because I was just asked to wash dishes again. Shit, if I hate any chore there is in the world, it's dishes. Much like the word of the day, I could eat out of the pan if I wanted to with a spoon, but that would obviously be unethical, disgusting, unsanitary and not too cheffy...

Maybe it's because I've seen this word on a blog once, and was used in Julie and Julia by Amy Adams (who looks better brunette, by the way) and I just loved the word ever since?

Eh, it's all of the above. I'll admit it myself: This blog post is the word of the day. Time to wash dishes, check facebook one more time, and get some sleep for tomorrow. I'm bushed.

Good Morning, Good Afternoon and Good Night.

हाहा दूदे थिस इस तोताल्ली अमज़िंग। अस इ ऍम टाइपिंग थिस, आईटी कोन्वेर्ट्स एवेर्य्थिंग इ से इन्तो सम हिन्दी व्रितिंग। वैरी, वैरी त्रिप्प्य।

Enough of my amusement.

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

It's almost midnight and I still have work tomorrow at nine in the morning. Whatever, I believe that I can work to the best of my ability even with seven hours of sleep. I'm used to it but I'm not going to get healthier that way and especially with school looming along the sidelines, I can't really screw anything up from this point on.

Today, I went to Sarah's goodbye-for-now party as she leaves for Arizona in six days.

It was almost Sacramento all over again, and if it's not "all" then the feeling was very much close to it.

Unlike Sacramento, we did not have a week to see each other on the sidewalks of Sacramento, debate bills or proposals, send page notes and anything else that YnG does that I don't really know as we only got four or five hours to meet potential friends and hang out with old ones as well.

Unlike the Mexican food at Sacramento, this one was free and just as good and unlike then, a tostada would not be enough for me but a small plate of a taco, an empanada and a taquito was enough.

Despite all these differences, the one that remained the same was the camaraderie of the people as everyone seemed to get along with their own personal jokes, stories, pictures and hobbies and the latter.

Before I forget, Amber told me to read 1001 things to eat before you die - There, I wrote it in case I lose it somewhere, and you ought to read it too and do it as well (if you're adventurous enough, that is).

The main reason why this is being compared to Sacramento is the essence of leaving other people to meet new ones. Once again, we always know in our hearts and minds that we will be reunited someday, but the reality that we have to leave and conquer new challenges wherever it may be is inevitable...

As selfish as I want to be, I don't want to keep them all for myself and I believe that more of the same is boring (a reason why we voted for President Obama). Not really a knock on my friends, but it's definitely great to experience something new...

Anyways, I am currently trying to solve a spywared computer because I've developed a long lasting hate for Geek Squad that I don't want to pay 80 in deposit so that they can screw me overall...

For No Obvious Reason

I've been doing a lot of things for no obvious reason.

Back during the delegation banquet/lock-in, I told a friend that I wasn't paranoid about anything until I had to come up with something as to why I was paranoid, which in turn became a good piece of writing that up to this day (hopefully, or not sure about it) is still up on my friend's wall...

I've also been going to the gym a lot for no reason at all. I really just go because I'm sick and tired of a routine life of working, going home and sticking my face to a computer all day. After all, it feels really good.

Because of my sudden initiative to go to the gym, my cousin (a sixty-forty ratio supporter-cynic) asked me as to what the REAL reason was for going to the gym. When I gave my simple yet honest answer as to "I have nothing else to do with my life", he said that there HAD (emphasis on that) to be SOMETHING (emphasis on that too) that happened that made you want to do this, and I said "Nope."

I don't really know why everything needs to have a solid reason behind it.

I decided to become a chef because I watched the Season Premiere of Top Chef and said that's what I wanted to do.

I decided to play tennis because my mom forced me to go to her lessons at West L.A College, and I had no other athletic besides basketball and knowing Westchester's basketball team, I wouldn't even survive a tryout much less make the team.

I decided to join YnG because of the stories that Nik and Nathan told me from how fun it is to meet new people and show or piss off with how you present your arguments and the page notes.

For most of my short lived almost nineteen year old life, I haven't found anything wrong with winging it without a solid reason.

When I wrote the Million Dollar Question of who interested me in the hospitality business, I said that it was the people around me. Read more of it here:

http://likedoodseriously.blogspot.com/2009/08/million-dollar-question.html

When I made the team my sophomore year, as much as I hated it, I started liking both the aspect of improvement and the high camaraderie of a real team (As I've been in a Chess Team, there is no camaraderie in that at all).

When I went all out in my last YnG sessions where I got page notes, took on leadership and put my best food forward, I started loving it.

The main reason why I'm not a firm believer in a solid reason (pun very much intended) is this: Anyone can have a solid reason for doing what they want to do, but if it's not backed up by an ounce of love or passion, then the reason slowly melts away, much like an ice would if it didn't have the air from the freezer to keep it solidified.

That is why we want to experience all the things in the world: For the right of being there, for solidifying our reasons to do what we want to do, and back up fact whenever needed.

Felix Felicis

If you don't know what Felix Felicis is, then you should either read the sixth book of the Harry Potter series. Of course, if we don't like reading HP for some reason (I.E - reading sucks, or just a preference in a type of book), you can always get yourself a movie to see the movie, have a good time and help it's cause to beat Titanic in the all-time box office.

Anyways...

Felix Felicis is what Horace Slughorn calls "Liquid Luck",, as huge amounts of this liquid is fatal as it would lead to overconfidence (the simplest way to put it, I suppose). I wonder what really does happen when there is an overdose of Fsquared. Would it have an opposite effect? If so, what happens then?

I recently commented on Jacklynn's photo of Tanner (shoutouts, woot) where she took the picture and Tanner hit a homerun just after. We all know as well as I do that luck is never planned, and if it ever was, then I'm an Iron Chef.

I find myself writing this piece because I felt like I've needed some luck lately: money issues as to whether I get paid (and should ask if I really am or not), and everything else in between. I've made a note to myself to not base my decisions on emotions or the consequences would most likely be harsh (or odds say so at least).

There's an old cliche going around that we would never know unless we try. It's true. As much as I want to play it safe, I also want to find out things that would at least satisfy my most critical questions, and because I want to survive my job for more than two weeks, I don't want to do it.

I really wish I had a bottle of Felix Felicis and consumed it, or at least a Harry Potter figure that

fools me into believing that there was some on something that I just drank.

Running thoughts of a gym rat.

I went to the gym and I think I'm sleeping well tonight.

This marks my fifty-seventh blog on my career (really, there's more than that, but the latter are incomplete, untitled and substance-less if you will).

As I'm typing this, there are many thoughts running through my head, from what to bring to the gym tomorrow, to what I'll do tomorrow, or what would my second job be (I have yet to ask Chris about that). As far as this summer is concerned, it's starting to get somewhere as I'm finding things to do for myself - going to the gym, work, which are things that occupy my time and does not leave me bored for a single minute. Okay, work can be boring too, but there's always something to do within the next two or three minutes, so that assumption is out of the window.

As the days of August tick by, I'm slowly realizing how my friends would be gone in days, and how every single one of us would be meeting new people, taking supposedly harder and paid-thousands-of-dollars-for classes, etc. I'm not going to lie, I'm psyched for all of us, and I'm pretty sure that as much as it is different, we'll all lead ourselves to our busy lives that at some point, someone will put a status up on facebook complaining about a paper due the next day, or an old guy checking them out on the street...

I also was thinking the concept that I would bring to the Food Network, if I were ever to be a part of the NFNS (Next Food Network Star). I would say, it's...

Fresh off the boat - You never saw it coming.

But yes, that is my thought dump for today.

Before I leave, I am proud to say that I had my first Chile Relleno today! It wasn't what I expected, but it was good nonetheless!

So, the Next Iron Chef competition is due again in December. If the choices are based on people who have competed in Iron Chef America, then these are my picks:

1. Michael Cimarusti

2. Marcus Samuellson

3. Govind Armstrong

4. Anita Lo

5. Ming Tsai

6. Sam Mason

7. Tim Love

8. April Bloomfield

The Million Dollar Question

I'm looking at the application for CIA, and it asks the question as to who influenced my interest in the foodservice and hospitality field (in 400 - 500 words). Here's my answer:

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

My journey to finding my interest in the foodservice/hospitality field has been a very unusual one. Growing up in the Philippines, my mother set up a pension plan for me to go to a college that focuses on medical studies. Years went by and in 2000, my mother left for the states for a better life, therefore I was left with the hands of my father.

My father would make one of my favorite dishes ever: Kaldereta, a stew of potatoes with chilies, liver spread, tomato sauce and the basic aromatics (Onion and Garlic), along with a cold glass of Coke. When he didn't make anything, we would end up in my grandmother's house, where an assortment of food on the table was served: Dinuguan, Kare-Kare, Adobo. Little then did I realize of my passion for food: I only liked the idea of it for consumption and energy.

The idea of this changed after following my mother in the States in 2002. During that time, I came here with a small suitcase, and a huge enthusiasm as a fan of the Los Angeles Lakers as well as basketball. Over the years, that would change as I discovered sports such as tennis, baseball and football.

On a tired night during my sophomore year, the series premiere of Top Chef was shown, and I instantly fell in love with it for its good amount of movement as well as the beauty of the final product itself. Much like my love for food during my younger years, I still was unaware that this was for me until I worked in my mom's office as an assistant, which I found incredibly tedious and boring.

Time once again flew by, and my love for food was growing stronger as I religiously watched the Food Network ever since I got cable and I never missed a Top Chef episode during its solid five seasons. Together with my religious passion for food shows added my passion for movement and the idea of being on the big stage that playing sports have provided me has solidly confirmed of me wanting to be a chef.

When I was interviewed for C-CAP, Richard Grausman, cookbook author asked me as to what my plans were for my future. I remember telling him that I wanted to own my own restaurant and call it Eversoul - an idea inspired by my childhood through a fictional item called an Eversoul Knife which revives the freshness of any product once this knife touches it, as well as to travel around the world. After that, I really did not know what to say except that my hard work will pay off and life will put me where it wants me to put it.

When it all comes down to it, a person didn't influence me into this business. Much like a good plate of food, every piece has it's purpose, and all that needs to be said is that all the people that I have met in my life helped me to get where I am today, and with that passion and support behind me, I never looked back.

Like my colleague Arielle Pardes, I didn't say or write this

I've been looking for this one specific episode of The Next Food Network Star for this one speech. It's definitely worth the wait for it to come out online, but I'm proud to say that I'll be living by these words for the rest of my life.

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

"I read recently that we shouldn't fear failure. We should fear success at the wrong thing. I don't want this job to win. I want this job because it matches who I am. My mom was a college student: Single and raising two little girls. She was my first inspiration for cooking. We had a party every year, our mother-daughter holiday (celebration) that we would cook for months for. So that's where I learned how to cook for people and bring joy to them. When I was in college, my mom committed suicide. I was left on my own to cook. So that's where I got very good at getting a meal at the table, and when I went off to business school, I clawed my way up the corporate ladder, I had over ten years of fantastic success. My mind was fed, but my soul was completely undernourished. Julia Child says "Don't be afraid". So I am standing here in front of you not afraid because I may fail, but I'm failing at the right thing. Bon Appetit."

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

http://www.fancast.com/tv/The-Next-Food-Network-Star/96105/1196184748/VIP-Party-in-Miami/videos

(between 15:00 to 17:00 - just an approximate time)

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.

Riese's Pieces

The idea of "Just Dood It" came to form when the graduating seniors from Youth and Government Class of 2009 went to Diddy Riese's.

I remember vividly that night when Me, Eric, Jeff, Nik, Ramez, Chris , Julie, and Lynora were patiently waiting at the line patiently for our Ice Cream Sandwiches, or very cheap cookies by the dozen, Lynora told me to make a shirt that says "Just Dood It". Everyone else agreed, and I've been on a mission to get the shirt made.

Apparently, to this point, I still have an orange "Just Do It" shirt, but not a "Just Dood It"one for the lack of a job, and without one, there's no cash flow, and if there's no cash flow?

You get the idea.

Then came AP testing, final exams, graduation, Trevor Ariza reppin' C-Town as well as the Lakers for their fourth title, and here I am finding myself doing this blog just for the sake of having fun. That, and I felt like I needed a new blog anyway - It's college, and it's time to start off with a clean slate.

If this blog ever goes off the charts popular or anything close to it, I'd give myself a light chuckle, since Jeff made the Culinary Boner shirt vocally popular in NIC, and Lynora for suggesting the quote itself.

At that note, here's hoping that Nike doesn't sue me, and if Food Network ever asked me the best cookies that I ever had, Diddy Rieses would be at the top of my list. :]

Too long for yearbooks, Part One.

This hour is my last one as a high schooler.

Technically, I still would have to wait some eighteen hours, a graduation ceremony, and a diploma to officially end my career as a high schooler, but what the heck.

Graduations are like birthdays - it ends a time period, yet it starts a new one at the same time.

Since I don't have to be in school tomorrow - maybe just waking up at 9:30 or so, so that I could play tennis with my buds as a student one last time, I'll just write my heart out.

We write a lot of things in yearbooks - some meaningful, some not so much due to variables such as the strength of a friendship, or the amount of space a person gives you to sign (I.E - Do not write on the back of the yearbook, this is my man's page).

I personally love to sign yearbooks: It leaves my mark in there, somewhat a territorial thing within one's heart, or something of the sort. Yet, much like I've said before, there is no point to satisfaction - we want to add something more, and more, and more until it becomes perfect, or overkill.

Not saying that these people that I've known in my high school career will be gone forever, but I want to write something more meaningful where my space or time isn't limited by a vice principal's speech, or a rush because someone else needs to sign it, so here goes:

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1. Hassan - You're the first person I've met at Westchester. Like most friendships, I've had times that I regret meeting you for the things that you've done, or did, or currently doing, but there were times that we got along too well for our own good. Basically, the theory of opposites attract applied to us, and I can't believe your ass might be stuck here forever. Here's hoping that it won't happen.

2. Tobin -There's a debate about you being either the smartest kid in school, or a straight up hard-worker. Some people say that you're hardworking because you get all these straight A-s and stuff. I think it's simply a combination. You can be smart and not hardworking, and it'll still get you a 3.0, or a 3.5, such as in my case, if you get lucky. You can be hardworking, but not smart, but that just means that you took really easy classes, or you're a big fish in a small pond. Once again, you've proven yourself to be a big fish in a pond with big fishes in a small pond. Congratulations in being Valedictorian, you've earned my respect and so many others' as well.

3. Kendra - There is a common phrase that is used around: "Diamond in the rough" - it's not so much for your academics, but it's more of a personality thing. I met you freshman year, and you were the silent type, and didn't really hear from you much during conversation. Like a diamond in the rough, I simply had to find and polish the "dirt" out of you, per se, and let the real beauty of it shine through. I really am amazed at this beauty, both physically (Let the person who has not thought the same thing stone me first) and personally. I don't blame you if you make a ton of friends in Utah because they see such beauty described, but I really hope that you don't forget me.

4. Nathan - You've literally changed in front of me - physically, that is. As for your personality, it stayed the same. For some reason, much like other people who have tried and avoid me, there is this certain charm or swagger to you that just attracts people - perhaps, it's the witty side of you as I've heard and received your comments. If anything, I'd compare you to an ice cream cone - no matter what the dip on the outside is, it's still Vanilla. Stay chill and tasty, but remember, i'm not having a culinary boner over you.

5. Nik - I still hate you for making fun of Rascal Flatts in Kohon's class - I remember asking you if you knew the progression for this song, and you went "what the fuck" is this. I also remember adding you in MySpace as Captain Cocker - I really don't know what they mystery behind that is, and I don't want to know. If anything however, you somewhat deserve that name based on our mutual instances with your dick, nohomo (Nelsen's Class and BOB1) - That picture's up on the internet, and next time that they ask me about it, I'm calling you on your phone to give that explanation.

6. Wendy - "Women are like eggs, dude". I at least know five ways to cook an egg, and if I missed any, then that's why I'm going to New York for. There's a reason to this analogy. Your personality is highly varied compared to the others I know where some are plain douchebags, some are plain boring, some are plain enthusiastic. Because of this varied personality, I can never figure you out - pisses me off sometimes, to be honest. Here's a better analogy that I could come up with though: If you cook eggs right though, it's heaven and it's worth it. I know, but I don't hope that this is a little too late, but you are one egg that I really want to try and figure out.

7. Sarah - I personally thought that meeting people via social networking was B.S - (see E-Harmony, and the sort). You as a woman had more balls than I ever had (Yes, I'll sincerely admit, for now), inviting me to your New Year's party, trusting that I'm not some lurk (ahem, Hassan). Ever since that day, I think our friendship has grown slowly (really slowly, in my opinion) because of our few encounters in YnG, and whereever Oliver hangs out these days. But really, I wouldn't fix something that's not broken because obviously (either that, or I'm very oblivious to this fact) that this friendship is still growing with drips of water and rays of sunlight at a time. By the way, I still owe you thirteen bucks for that camping trip, and I need to find a hot plates - who doesn't like crepes?

8. Mark - Everytime I look for a job these days, there's this voice at the back of my head saying "You know why you can't get a job?" - You asshole. I'm glad to discover that we're both in the same neighborhood. To be honest, I'm happy to know a person who's blunt as you, but still an asshole (even though it's ground beef, it's still beef - if you don't get that analogy, call me). Because of this personality of yours, I've developed in my opinion the better, if not the best conversations with you because they actually make me think. By the way, you need to learn how to bike if you're gonna survive college. Walking can be over-rated at times, you know?

Dream Night

Have I ever told you about my dream night?

If so, here it is:

Going to Ralphs with at least fifty dollars, spending thirty on wood, some chips and soda, and heading down to a beach, sitting beside a warm fire while reading a good book, or listening to music.

I might do it on grad nite - I love my friends and all, but I believe it's time I separated myself from that mess and gave myself a nice graduation gift.  After all, Silence is the gift of the gods, and we all deserve it once in a while.  

That, and why the hell do I want to pay seventy for Chester's grad nite, while Gundo pays 26?

Separation Anxiety

I never thought I would have this feeling again after I left Sacramento for the last time.

What feeling is it?  See title above.

I, along with a ton of 12th grade delegates have expressed in our own separate ways as to how we will miss Sacramento, or Youth and Government program itself as a whole.

I remember saying to myself that we can always come back to the program (like a good uncrustable - shout out to Brandon Kim) as interns or advisors, much like my advisors have after their time as delegates for at least seven years or so (not sure on the time-frame part, but it's welcome for any correction).  

After writing that blog, I felt separation anxiety for a week, talking to my newfound YnG friends (which reminds me, I feel the need to talk to them these days - I don't want to make these friendships a one week stand, or anything of the sort) and past memories, whatever it may be from Spring Conference to NIC first round commissions, etc.

It was weird to have that feeling as if the world were ending in front of me, with lost hope - not going to lie...

Then I realized, I had college to look forward to.

Denver, Colorado - Seven months away, I can picture the goodbyes in my head, along with the picture of my parents gone, my friends with their own destiny at their own hands as they go on to different colleges - away from their families, meeting new friends, etc.

Then, I competed for C-CAP, a cooking competition, and suddenly, EVERYTHING CHANGED.

I got 40 grand (for those who don't know, it's forty thousand dollars) to go to the Culinary Institute of America, also known as the Harvard of cooking.

One condition... Maybe two, just let me list them anyway.

One is that I had to stay one more year and take my classes at a community college, second, I had to work at a professional kitchen for at least six months (my scholarship DOES have a due date), and keep a 3.0.

Basically, this scholarship that I got made my heart burst and made me almost cry to tears (of happiness of course), since I didn't know I was going to do THAT well for the level that I performed.

Not saying that I want it, but as of this point, this scholarship feels like the girlfriend that I knocked up - I'm stuck with it forever, and if I ditched it, I'm basically fucked.

After thinking that way, a stream of thoughts ran through my head.

I have to go to church for one more year with my mom (and I dislike it)

My senior friends are all gone to college of their choices, and I'm here getting to mine, starting from scratch, at a community college (once again, one of my greatest fears, community college), as it makes me feel unsuccessful compared to those who are going there in a matter of months (at least three, I suppose) 

So basically, part of it is jealousy.

And my last worry is this - If my friends are all gone to college, and my friends at Westchester, who some, to be completely honest, I'm uncertain about because I haven't bonded with them much are genuine friends of mine, since I can't relate to them in terms of whatever the fad is, or what to talk to them about, etc. (Much is the same with my senior friends, but I've been around them for four years, and it's just going to feel weird)

When I told the panel that I was willing to make the sacrifice(a year of community college, and kitchen experience) to get to the best (CIA), I didn't know that problems like this would start flowing at the moment that I thought of it.

The  anxiety after leaving YnG does not affect my future much, as I know that I always have a connection to these people and can talk to them later, but this anxiety that I have now, the scholarship, will affect me in the future that if I dent my reputation one bit, that scholarship will be gone faster than President Obama ever said hope, and I'm stuck here for a long period of time... and I don't want that.

I remember writing in my speech for graduation saying that "let the thought of you joining the real world scare you momentarily, but never let it scare you forever".

As of now, I can't live by my own words.  Though I know that this won't last forever, It still lingers now, and I just need something to get over it, but I'm not willing to do it through cigarrettes or alcohol, because it's just nasty....

Bitter Binge

If this won't make me feel any better, I don't know what will.

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I definitely understand how mothers tend to say "That could have been you" - it's an achievement, pride thing, I guess.  But this specific one doesn't really apply to any of that.

I remember going home on a Sunday from church, with my mom asking me if I had to go somewhere today, and I said yes.  I said, I was going to my friend's event.  And she(my mom) asks if I'm with her (in a relationship), I simply said no.  And she said, "Oh, I thought she was going to be with you, why didn't you go for it? Did you get beat?"

My first thought:  WHAT THE FUCK.

I wanted to say it, right there and then, but I didn't want to do it on her favorite day, and on a four day weekend.  That would suck major balls, and I just don't want to pull an Aubrey.

Ever since then, it somewhat has been awkward for me seeing this person.  Awkward, but I can be mature about it, have a good conversation, but every now and then, I start thinking to myself:   I did get beat to it.

In fact, why do I even care?

Here's my second thought:  I remember Dakota was telling stories in the bus, and he's said this one where you "do" some girl one night, and when you're in the beach doing your thing, and she runs off, waves to you, you ask yourself "why did you do that?"

Same situation applies to me currently, but I didn't do someone in the process (thankfully), but it makes me remember one night, where I'm forced to be satisfied with it, because of memories captured in paper, or posted in facebook, and whatnot.

Not saying that I was satisfied with it, but, it somewhat didn't feel like the way I wanted it.  I'm not a perfectionist, but there is a side of me where I want to feel good as to what I'm doing, whether if it is halfassed or not.

Even if I did get the date that I wanted, and some people know who it is, and maybe she knows herself as to who she is - there is no point to satisfaction.  I might have gotten the right date, but I didn't do enough, as in pick a crappy corsage, spent too much, bored her to tears - I don't really know the common problems for dating, or "dating", and the whatnot.

Here's my third thought:  Westchester High screwed me over, and I want my fucking refund.

Instead of spending only two hundred dollars on a yearbook and cap and gown, these people, yes, these people advertised senior packages, but not the cap and gown package only.

Either I didn't read the paper right, or they baited and switched me.  I have no freaking idea.

That, or I forgot the other option: They put it in really small print.

Once again, what the flying fuck.

I saw the senior packages, and one is a memory book that looks gay as fuck with some madlibs shit on it.  Really, dude?  That, and it had tickets to senior breakfast and picnic, which as to this day, I'm still raging aobut because I didn't get my package, and didn't go to the breakfast.

And to think, I was so hungry this morning, that I only ate a freaking fast-one bar, or whatever the heck it is with thirtyfive percent amount of fiber for the day bar... still delicious anyway.

I know that I've been enjoying the simple pleasures of life far too much, but living under this concept has screwed me over so many times that I could have banked in on chances, so many chances, that I'm just letting it all out at this point.  

When I said that there is no point to satisfaction, there is no point to satisfaction - it's only temporary, and another problem comes up again to bother and destroy you emotionally to pieces.

Really, can my eighteen days of high school just be up, have my break, and take this dick off my ass temporarily?

Jump Start

Wow, haven't posted in a while...

I remember writing my graduation speech a couple weeks back....

But here's a really quick backtrack:

My congratulations go first to Tobin and Kendra for getting Valedictorian and Salutatorian, respectively.  As a prize for such a prestige, they both get speeches.  To be really honest, I'm somewhat jealous that they get to deliver a speech.

But wait.  Opportunity knocks.  Speech Contest, let's go.

And back to the real post.

I remember writing so many drafts in Kamm's class, how I've tried to backtrack from six or seven years back.  (According to Wolfram Alpha, I have been here six years and fifty two days)

Then, I realized that it didn't work, and instead, I focused on the present, focusing a point in my weekend in Colorado.  (Can't say much, because if this actually gets in, then I get to give a speech! HOOPS!)

I've realized as I was writing this speech was that time flies by so fast that it cannot fit in a two minute speech.  These moments, as much as we want to brag about them, will never get a chance to shine on the big stage, in front of many people, having a laughter or a quick tear.

Moments that lived upon us in eighteen years of our living lives in our hearts.  We program ourselves to keep what we want to keep, what we want to delete, we are programmed permanently to remember some things that turned our lives upside down, three sixty - whichever your favorite expression may be.

That, and the secret to a speech is the secret to good food, or anything good in general:  It comes from the heart.

Jump Start

Wow, haven't posted in a while...

I remember writing my graduation speech a couple weeks back....

But here's a really quick backtrack:

My congratulations go first to Tobin and Kendra for getting Valedictorian and Salutatorian, respectively.  As a prize for such a prestige, they both get speeches.  To be really honest, I'm somewhat jealous that they get to deliver a speech.

But wait.  Opportunity knocks.  Speech Contest, let's go.

And back to the real post.

I remember writing so many drafts in Kamm's class, how I've tried to backtrack from six or seven years back.  (According to Wolfram Alpha, I have been here six years and fifty two days)

Then, I realized that it didn't work, and instead, I focused on the present, focusing a point in my weekend in Colorado.  (Can't say much, because if this actually gets in, then I get to give a speech! HOOPS!)

I've realized as I was writing this speech was that time flies by so fast that it cannot fit in a two minute speech.  These moments, as much as we want to brag about them, will never get a chance to shine on the big stage, in front of many people, having a laughter or a quick tear.

Moments that lived upon us in eighteen years of our living lives in our hearts.  We program ourselves to keep what we want to keep, what we want to delete, we are programmed permanently to remember some things that turned our lives upside down, three sixty - whichever your favorite expression may be.

That, and the secret to a speech is the secret to good food, or anything good in general:  It comes from the heart.