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.

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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:

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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.

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"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."

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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...