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New York has now become an obsession: I've listened to Empire State of Mind and New York, New York more than any other song.

Crap.

These next two weeks would feel weird:  It's the homestretch, kind of like my last two weeks of school except I get money for it.  No, I'm not working only for the money because if that were the case, I would want to work somewhere else without a college education, and as we know in today's society doesn't fly.  (Open for debate.)

I don't know what to do for this stretch run.  There's always these bounds of professionalism that I always have to follow, but it doesn't seem like it.  I've been telling my co-workers that I'm leaving in two weeks.  Doing that doesn't seem so professional because, well, it's like bragging ninety-nine percent of the time, and I really, really hate "bragging" about these kind of things, and I really do think that it's straight up unprofessional without any reason to back it up besides my state of thought, whatever it is.

There's a certain thrill in following decorum, but if I don't even know what the proper decorum is for certain situations, then how do I learn?

On the fly?  Sure.  I've done it a lot of times, but I don't think I can do this one on the fly.

That's fine, I guess.  I'll do it that way, get scolded for a second and life moves on, I really don't know.

1. When I got to work this morning, the sous-chef told me that something was wrong with my face, then later told me to get more sleep.  I'm agreeing with him, as I could really feel my body somewhat giving up on me with only six hours of sleep per day.  Hypocrite I am though for not getting more sleep right now as I type this blog.

2. Random analogy that I came up while driving today:  Counting down days to any specific event that anyone is waiting for is like staring and/or wanting to touch a random, pretty stranger's boob.  Think about it:  it's okay to think about them, but if you touch them, you're screwed.  Lurking Variables not included.

3. I keep thinking it's Friday.  A lot of people are getting shitfaced tonight because of St. Patty's day.  I would keep a tally of who doesn't show up to work tomorrow because of the after-effect of this said holiday, but all the cooks that I work with are Mexicans who have no clue what the holiday is about, so that cancels that.

4. Watching a whole high school tennis game today was pretty exciting.  It came down to the last match, which Westchester won 4-3.  Still proud of these babies, and I must say that it motivates me to... hang out with people and play.  I've just been too shy about it, I guess.  But it's good to know that people want to genuinely hang out and just play.

5. Tomorrow ought to be fun.

I endorse Pandora Radio.  No, they're not paying me.

I've had to upload my iTunes as many times as I have had to recover my computer (four) and it's no fun.  I mean, downloading iTunes itself without music is already time consuming, and trying to figure out what songs I should get is even more of a hassle than it is.

With Pandora however, I just put whatever I want to listen to, and it plays it for me.  And while I write this blog, I'm hearing/experiencing more songs that I have ever had in my thirteen years of living (Yes, I did discover the magic of music when I got in the States).

I figured that with all the routine-laden activity that my life requires, I needed something random to throw it off, and it's just that.  

I concede to heartbreak.

I've been denying it a lot of times, restating it in many different ways possible, when in the end, it's only one thing and nothing else.

I've come to this conclusion thinking about how I was willing to do anything for this specific person, but I don't think I got anything that I expected back.

I could always say that I'm bitter, which I am, but there's no purpose in crying over spilled milk.

I just concede to it, so that this thought wouldn't bother me as much as it usually would.

That's all.

Winner At A Losing Game

After recovering some sense, I've finally made a decision about everything.

A week ago, my emotions decided that I wanted to have a shot at my second Sacramento as an Intern. My brother kept telling me to not do it and focus on what I have and what's ahead of me, but I didn't listen as I didn't have my grip on reality then.

As the deadline for the second year application is coming up, I have made my final decision.

I have decided that I will not come back, as much as Tom wants to see my application in his mailbox.

The reason why this is is that I believe that it will be very expensive for both my wallet and body, considering that the nearest airport in Poughkeepsie is at least seventy miles away, plus plane rides back and forth. Combining all those would nearly cost me two paychecks that I am earning now at minimum wage. Also it would really screw up my system adjusting to two time zones, along with the lack of sleep that comes with these conferences.

The other reason is perfectly stated by Former Colonel Pratt: He states that he avoided first years on purpose for the reason that if he knew us on a personal level this year, he would stay attached to the program and would not be able to leave. I feel the same as I've met an amazing group of people these last six months, and it would not be the same as half of the first years are gone, seventy five percent of the second years gone, and a hundred percent of the third years gone. It would be like taking 90 percent of my mise-en-place out for my Mardi Gras Special and replacing it with something else: While it is delicious, it's not the same nor it it is what I had intended to serve.

During our last half hour session, we went a half hour over. I told J.P that it was time to let them go. We gave them their cue, but they insisted that we stayed together for as long as time permits it. They didn't care. We talked about our experiences in our first Sacramentos over valentines day candy and took group pictures. In the end, we eventually had to go, hugged it out. My kids wished me good luck, and I told them that I was proud of their willingness to step up in terms of maturity and responsibility.

That moment alone reminded me of why I wanted to come back. That feeling of love from people four years my junior, wishing me luck in the future, wishing me to come back and it would not be the same for them without me in it.

I felt invincible, and that I was on top of the world.

If I were to come back, I would be a winner at a losing game as if I did come back as a second year, I would be trying to achieve or even top the memory of that stated above. I just could not see myself doing it.

In overall, I would like to thank the Intern Staff, the Interns themselves, as well as my forum kids. You guys were the silver lining during my six month wait prior to leaving to New York, and when I head out there in about two months or so, I am proud to say that there are at least sixty more people who I can turn to in times that I truly need it.

Anything I say after this is simply injustice. Therefore:

Seacrest, Out.

I mentioned on a Facebook status one day that making a blog regarding Sacramento now would be empty words.  At the time though, the hype did not hit me yet.

Times change.

One of my co-workers told me today that we had a meeting on Thursday.  I said I had to go to Sacramento.  She asked me if it was a vacation.  I replied saying "kinda-sorta".

Counting however many days off I have left aside, I'm worried about something else:  My forum kids not being prepared, me having to be responsible for them, or the overall experience of this Sacramento itself as it is totally different coming back as a first year intern.

*moment of silence*

After that, I really have nothing to say.  It's what my inner orator has in my mind all day while prepping, and good portions of it should come out during the friendship service, sans laptop.

Within ourselves lies a great orator.  However, once process of reciting our speeches is in action, we seem to hold back as we find flaws on our voice whether it is an accent, twang, break or any other deficiency mentioned.

Orators in the sense of the word are people who harmonizes a thousand words together and make it a masterpiece to be remembered.  As mentioned above, we all have the ability to do it as some show it classically, while some do it uniquely.

Therefore, what is the purpose of this post?  To rant?  

I really don't know.  It's simply one of those nights where eloquence flows like a river, possibly smooth and serene to the reader...

It's good to have one of those nights.

Go Big, or Go Home.

Here I am sitting late at night watching an Andy Roddick match, while reading a witty blog the other. It's not that I can't sleep, it's that I'm a very determined fan to see this match whole. No replays, no online results, just awaiting a full on satisfaction of a comeback victory or the disappointment of a heartbreak.

Coming into work today, I felt somewhat confident watching Hell's Kitchen and Worst Cooks in America having that aura of confidence telling myself that I couldn't be that bad even if I tried. I think that mantra only works for Worst Cooks because I've only worked in a kitchen for six months and a couple of weeks. Simply saying, I wouldn't last a minute of a rush hour in Hell's kitchen because of my lack of experience.

There, I admit it.

As my horoscope stated, today was really busy. I swear, these horoscopes are eerily correct, and I might just make another blog out of it.

Psych. Marching on...

I prep for today. It goes normally, couple chocolate milk and bathroom breaks in between, that's it. I was busy enough that I didn't have the time to screw around.

Going into service, I knew I was somewhat undersupplied. Tickets came in, I coasted until I under-portioned two plates, with one getting sent back (If you work in the business, getting a plate sent back will piss you off in a million ways, especially if you're trying to scrap through a line of ticket). Because of this, I am happy to say that I finally got reprimaned for small portioning since I've always had the thought of these customers are getting really bad portions for a high price tag.

It just confirms the mantra of...

(see title)

There are some things that are out of my control. Do I hate it?

Absolutely.

Can I do something about it?

Yes and No. Here's why.

I hate things that I can't control, and time is one of them. I feel like every time is something due these days, I have to act on it fast, or else I'm going to get beat. And in the world that we live in today, I can't get beat especially if it's one of the spots in the best culinary school there is.

There's only so much I can do to pass time: Sleep, play three games of Madden, play guitar, jam to Stevie Wonder, and so forth. Until then, I'm rendered powerless, and I'm thinking that I'm getting beat because the seemingly fast hare (me) fell asleep under a tree, and the tortoise (time, seemingly slow) beats me to the end because it never stopped ticking.

I'm definitely going to be distracted at work tomorrow, but it should give me some good nerves considering that I might work under a fast pace with said anxiety, but it can only get me so far until the end of my shift.

Two tasks, all doable, but time sensitive.

Still doable.

Believe.

Nothing screams a New Year better than resolutions being made along with the sound of fireworks in the sky and kisses all around the world.

I don't know why it took so long to name this blog something less scrappier than Buckets of Balls. I feel like a cook (give me maybe five years for that Chef title) who has so many ideas that all of it just falls out because I can't settle for something without having a commitment problem attached to it.

With Bob 2 coming up, and my computer once again recovered (losing some precious BOB 1 footage of Mia ass-mopping the floor and a whole line of interns spelling "We Love Pratt" for being "late"), It's telling me two things.

1. It's the start of something new
2. It's time to get a back-up hard drive.

I would like to say that I did not come up with the title of Brilliant Moments. Rather, it is the lovely Mia Cheeseman who did. (A little shoutout doesn't hurt at times)

A brilliant moment in Camp Roberts terms does not live up to it's name. Or maybe it does in an opposite way since these BM's(or the lightbulb stuffed bag) are handed out to people who do stupid things. For instance, not knowing the difference between BOB1 and BOB2 is(I think that was Sunny?).

All the stories from Camp Roberts aside, Brilliant moments happen to our lives though they don't come in the prettiest forms possible. Good comedy can be brilliant, though at times it comes at the expense of embarrassment but it just shows that we're all human.

Basically, a good portion of our moments are brilliant despite some dull spots in them through daily routine work such as school or a job, but these moments we treasure, because these are ones that exposes our personality and vulnerability to life.

Happy reading, and please keep a light on while reading. Unless, you'll go blind.

Crikey, a politician!

I was in church two weeks ago. Let it be known to people that I don't like going to church. To me, it is only an obligation to go for exchange of certain privileges that I am enjoying today. But that's another blog. Going back to my point, I went to church two weeks ago and heard this "joke". Please read and put your two cents in.

----

A preacher once wanted to see what direction his son was headed for. To find out, he decided to put four items on the table that represents a career: A bible (preacher), a dollar coin (businessman), a bottle of whiskey (drunkard) and a sports illustrated swimsuit edition magazine (skirtchasing bum). When the son got home (note that the preacher is spying), He picked up the bible, flipped the coin and put it on his pocket, took a swig of whiskey and went through pages of Sports Illustrated happily, and left the room. The preacher then realized that his son was going to be a politician.

There is something I hate about premeditated speeches.

Sometimes, we could hear our inner orator speaking out to the masses of brain cells in our head, but when it's time to put the idea into paper (or blog, in my case), it falls out faster than a failed souffle.

This theory above is applicable to anybody. Yes, even the shyest among this world have an inner orator among them, though they are too shy to express their ideas, or what they have to say.

While the words of the inner orator make sense during that time, they are sometimes chunks of thoughts, that when carefully assembled together makes a masterpiece of a speech or a piece of literature.

I am not saying that having chunks of thoughts are bad. Harry Potter was a chunk of thought that turned out to be a billion dollar empire by J.K Rowling. You don't believe me? Go watch the special features in the Harry Potter DVD.

Back to premeditated or practised speeches, I had an experience like this during graduation last year (I finally can say that, instead of technically speaking). I read my speech so many times to the crowd that it lost it's authenticity, it's value, that even if I read it to the public, my "class"-mates would simply think that it's another delay to the charade of moving on with their lives. It's as if I was playing in a football game, and my coach told me to not call any audibles in the line of scrimmage.

It sucks.

Most pieces of literature can be somewhat compared to Horcruxes: It is a fragment of their soul that leaves their stamp in the world, and the only way to get rid of them is to ruin the memory of it, or destroy every "horcrux" in existence.

In short, never mess with words.

Happy New Year

I have at least fifty minutes to finish my blog for the first day of the New Year, so here goes.

______

I'm finally starting the New Year by closing out the final moments of what it was a strenuous life. I've dealt with too many life-changing moments this past year, from winning a scholarship, graduating, having to emotionally deal with being behind while my friends are enjoying college, and so forth.

Despite these challenges however, I have gotten back a good compensation for these challenges: A legitimate experience at a workplace decorum, being a Youth and Government intern, and actually carrying my own weight where I feel like I don't have to ask my parents anymore for money if I wanted something material like a videogame, or a shirt.

Materialism aside, I really would want to put my resolutions in here, but much like my failed PreBOB project, it failed. Maybe except one for I have gotten a legit camera this christmas. But besides that, I think I gained weight and I only know three chords on a guitar, but I have no ability to play a song or two...

While I don't want to start off the New Year on a negative note, I'll fire anyway because I would like to believe that I've built up a stronger mentality progressively year after year, if I couldn't notice it on a day to day basis.

1. I'm sick again.
2. I'm broke.

But they're fixable, so who gives a shit.

But yes, Happy New Year to me, because I really ran out of sentimental/meaningful material to provide.

I've been playing the Sims 3 lately because my cousin got the expansion pack for me this Christmas, and I tried to portray my life in the most realistic manner possible, and so far this is what I have.

* My wife is a frugal vegetarian who wants to have a career in business. Though frugal, she wants to donate to charity and likes Art Museums.
* I'm a five-star chef whose boss is a pastry chef.
* Speaking of which, I've developed a so called "romantic interest" with my boss, only to marry someone else later. Yes, I did have the balls to invite her to the wedding, thus making her pissed (as later shown in the boss mood being red under the career section)
* I'm part chef, part relic hunter (it's the adventures expansion pack, and it's the only one they have!). It's fun and thrilling (I still don't want to try Egypt yet. I heard it's got mummies. :P)
* I live in a house called "The Monotone". -> Story of my life.
* I could get so much more done with six hours of sleep.
* I'm proficient at Martial Arts and Photography.

As much as I'm living a good videogame life, it's very monotone unless I spend all my money and just travel around the world frequently being single, living a life similar to Indiana Jones (a less extreme version, of course). I really do want that kind of life though at times since I get promoted in less than five days (but they're Sim days, every minute is like a second in real time), but it's just lacking too much to be actually compared to the real thing.

In the end, even if we take the parts of our lives that we consider lackluster, life would still be the same: We control a lot of it, but we're just restrained.

Culinary Setbacks.

Tonight, I went to Truxton's with my cousin because he wanted French Onion Soup. I of course obliged because, well, why would you turn down free food?

Waiter comes and asks us for our order. He knows what he wants, and I'm flipping through the menu two or three times trying to be adventurous in discovering new flavors and whatnot.

I settled for the Mac and Cheese.

It was good.

I wouldn't necessarily say that this is a setback, rather a red light. I haven't even stepped foot in CIA yet, and here I am trying to plan my future like no one's business and no tomorrow.

It's true that I have my three restaurants in mind. I won't put it here because people might steal my ideas, and stealing is not cool in my book. But the concepts of these restaurants are so unlimited to me because I have a vast imagination (despite popular belief), and what I have currently put down would be considered on what I solely know, thus my imagination being limited which results in instant failure for lacking versatility.

What also frustrates me is that I can't sharpen a knife on that damned automatic sharpeners. It claims that it can make the sharpest edge ever, but when I tried to make onion rings today, it didn't even fly. This is probably why I should read manuals or else I'd ruin my knife.

This just goes to show that simplicity is the key to life. So is reading manuals.

As much as I'm sick of running a simple and honest life, I'm not going to stray away from it. It has too many schematics and gimmicks lurking around it, and I'm not a guy who wants to put up with one or the other or even both.

On Christmas Day, no less, I'm proud to say that I have no respect left for my family, and I'll be damned if those words were empty.

I'm really sick and tired of people not seeing me eye to eye because they've had more years under their belt. I really hate those kinds of people who thinks they know everything, and does not care to listen. Even if they do, their opinion goes, which makes it pointless to even talk, or respect to them. I really could not care if they commanded a million angels in their dreams or God found them at their certain point at their life, but if people can't see me eye to eye, well, fuck them. I'll easily cut them off my life in a snap.

I also don't care for liars. As I've said before, I'm a bad liar and I hate schematics and gimmicks outside of sports and cooking. Lie to me once, shame on me. Lie to me twice, and I'll cut you out of my life like my boss did to our former dishwasher who dropped the duxelle on the floor and picked it back up like nothing happened.

I'm a very forgiving person, but don't ever try my limitations as a person. Every single person on earth has a limitation, and going outside simplicity and honesty is mine.

If you don't like it, then fuck you.

Worst holidays ever.

Fuck holidays.

I can't wait to go to the East Coast and start all over again.

I'm over it.

A couple days back, I discovered why Nick Twisp likes Frank Sinatra so much. It's catchy, in an oldie kind of way and I guess I'm finally starting to find my taste in music... kind of.

One of the songs that I've been listening from Sinatra is "New York, New York", and I can't help but want to be there faster...

In other departments, I don't know why I'm pissed at this holiday season. My work hours are longer, my paycheck is less than what it seems, red lights every stop light, the person who's in front of me is slower, I don't have a social life. It's like problems are handed to me one by one, as if the test of time and trial is trying to score one on me, but I'm just persistent and won't let it.

I really do think that the East Coast is the solution to all my problems. Not really the East Coast, rather than a huge distance away from my family and old friends. It feels like I've done everything that I wanted to do at that stage, and I have nothing else left to do, which in turn makes my life boring and impossible to liven up...

In all seriousness, I'm tired of waiting. It's not that I want instant gratification, but I just want my results to be commensurate with my good effort for withstanding patience, crap and the other whatnots that are factoring in my currently boring life now. Bah.

I feel like Scrooge. I thought Rice-A-Roni and a movie would help me overcome this problem of grumpiness, but apparently it has done the opposite. I really, really, really, don't know why.

I feel like I'm not doing anything right.

I'm talking to a fellow Intern (Youth and Government), and I think it's the first time I've verbally put out there that I'm tired from working a week straight with no breaks.

(Writer's note: Actually not the first time, I made it my facebook status, but I have not had any further discussion of it at the time)

Not to disrespect where I currently work today, but if I'm only on my trial period now, how would I even have a chance at the real world?

Something has to change, and I don't even know where to start.

There are so many flaws in me, it's ridiculous. It's like remodeling the worst football team on the planet, and there's a lot of good players in free agency that could fix your flaws, but a salary cap is there to obviously cap what you can only get.

It's true that I'm creating excuses for myself, but I also do know the fact that I can only take one or two changes at a time (three, if I do it gradually). If I start taking them all in, my focus goes somewhere else, dwindles, and I'm starting from square one.

It sucks.

If there's anything else I need to learn, it's how to put a conclusion in these blogs. I suck at coming up with them. Maybe that's why I failed most of my AP exams.