2013 reflections

2013 winds down to a close, as I take some moments to look back and see what I've done. 2013 was a long year for me. January 2013 I was still at my previous college stressing out about sending in applications for transferring. The entire process took me about a couple months and finally, acceptance letters came and I decided then that I was officially going to transfer.

And I remember telling my friends. Most of them were indifferent and understood my decision. Telling the taekwondo club was difficult, as I was the president and set a mission statement/goal to transform the curriculum to make it more rigorous and challenging in the hope of sending members to state and local tournaments. It was an opportunity for me to lead the club and revamp it; to improve the club so that all members could undoubtedly say that they started from the bottom and now they are here. But it had to cut short, as I declared to the group that I was going to transfer. The few professors and students that were in the club felt dejected and for some time, seemed as if they lost all hope. As if they longed for summer when it was already winter. Nothing could be done.

So there I was as I packed my belongings on the spring of 2013 when my freshman year was finished. I  took one last look at the campus and never looked back.


Those were the first few months of 2013. Then summer arrived, where I did nothing but take a few driving courses, visit a lot of vintage bookstores to catch my eyes on rare books, work out, and dream.

As fall winded down, I attended the school that I had transferred to and immediately made some friends. Even made a girlfriend which I appreciate from the bottom of my heart and can be considered a life event. Had I didn't transfer I would not have met her. She is a gift that the college brought me.

2013 was a long year but well worth the effort. Onwards to 2014!

Journalism and Ethics

In journalism, ethics is a huge area that most journalists face however tend to give the least concern about. They are in fact trained to get the story and coverage in rather than thinking twice about whether or not it is morally right. Their acts may violate certain laws, privacy rules, and even commit trespass, but in the long run a journalist's job is to get the news in to the public as best as possible. Regardless if the information is not transparent--that is, accurate, verified, and researched from the bare-bones, they aim to inform the public the particular subject matter in a timely fashion. They will do whatever they can to get the facts. For example, one can expect muckracking masqueraders to conceal their identities and pretend to be another person and clandestine smarties to adroitly put a spin on certain information and publish it for the body politic. It takes guts to become a journalist, it seems, as they face ethical situations and tradeoffs most of the time. But one of my personal code of ethics that I forgot to mention on a paper was the fact that a journalist should minimize their inner feelings.

Let's say you see a woman about to commit suicide by jumping from her terrace while holding her baby. Other people gathered around are yelling at her don't do it and expressing how crazy she is while you are there capturing photos of the whole scene.

Obviously one would, from basic human instinct, try to save her and her baby but after all it is important that the journalist pushes aside the sorrow he feels for the woman and do his job by getting the pictures of her plunging to her death and sending them in. Regardless if it may seem wrong, that is what a journalists does. Getting in the news and the hard evidence.

In other words, when you are in a journalist mode, don't be sorry. Just get the news in.

Now of course there are portrayals of these in popular films such as Pollack's 'Absence of Malice', where a heroine journalist fails to express concern for others and decides to publish false, sensitive information that eventually leads a woman to commit suicide. Her acts not only shone a false light on particular individuals but it also lead to suicide.

It just means that journalists face an inestimable number of moral dilemmas each time they are in the process of covering groundbreaking news, and that can sometimes be the toughest aspect, psychologically, to deal with.

Kinship Feelings, From a Sibling-less Kid's Perspective

Many people with siblings constantly bring up the mere idea that their sibling(s), whether older or younger, are, but not limited to being annoying, unintelligent, mean, and abusive. I have heard from various friends that their own siblings can sometimes throw them off and literally grind their gears to the absolute max. Of course there are certain drawbacks that people with siblings face that I feel lucky I do not have to deal with, such as sharing, and getting less attention from family members. If you are, say, the third child in your family, you have to deal with sharing the PS3 with your other two siblings whilst an only child can have it all to his or herself. If you are the middle child, you are sandwiched in, as you are neither the youngest nor the oldest, thus you have the tendency to feel trapped. Let's say you meet your neighbor and your parents introduce you to your two siblings. Generally, they will remember the youngest because he or she is the youngest, and the oldest, because he or she is simply, yes, the oldest. The middle man is a position where you would sometimes feel isolated and forgotten, I think.

As an only child, I do feel that I am much more calm, as there is not really any competition. In fact there is no need for competition. Only childs typically do not need to think about who has a better haircut or wardrobe or who is smarter. We only childs go by our own pace as peaceful as a bird gracefully flapping its wings and soaring through the cloudless sky. 

But then again, there are certain times I feel that I want a sibling. That life would be a tad better with a sibling. Personally I feel I would be more outgoing and aggressive if I had a sibling. Sure I've got friends, but the kinship feeling is not the same. In the long run you are always with your siblings. Family outings, traditions, and rituals, you all celebrate together until eternity. On the other hand, friends are friends; you don't live with them. You can't really have personal family related conversations with your friends. You can, but it's just not the same. I sometimes feel lonely that I am the only child in the family. Sometimes I feel that I am on my own, whereas, if I had a sibling, I might feel that I got a partner; a sidekick that reinforces the idea that I got someone I could always consult whenever I do not feel like talking to mom or dad or anyone else. If your parents got into a fight, you could always spend some time with them, whilst, an only child would just have to deal with the tension usually on their own. 

But being an only child is at the same time a privilege. I was born this way and am proud of it. 

Secret santa and karaoke with the college friends on a record-breaking 70 degree weather. My girlfriend and I turned out to be each other's secret santa. Who would have thought. Fate or conspiracy? Haha. 

The Paradox of my Experience with Roommates (as of now)

I am on the car on the way back home. I take a moment and reminisce about my seemingly bad luck with roommates so far.

One day I came back to the dorm and I saw my roommate's side of the room completely empty, bare bed with no sheets. Closet with no clothes hanged. Nothing on the desk nor in the drawers. Everything was swept and washed away. All that was left was a half-drunken Sprite bottle, an opened combo pack of instant spicy ramen noodles, and a bunch of his littered trash.

Now why did he leave all of sudden without notifying me? I don't even know whether he dropped out or just left for somewhere. His phone number is unreachable. There could be many reasons. Initially, I thought what in the world is he thinking? But the more I thought about it, the more I figured that it was also partially my fault.

Although he is an international student from China, which means he can only grasp basic conversational English, I could have made him feel more comfortable by talking to him more. Most of the time I would come back to the dorm and read or surf online with little to no conversations. Other times I'd crash into my girlfriend's place on campus for the night.

"Put yourself in his shoes," someone said. "Imagine you were an international student in, say, Russia. How would you feel if your roommate never gave the effort to talk to you and just left you there in your dorm?"

Sure I've had a few meals with him earlier in the semester, and we talked about some English slang and what our plans were for the weekend. The other time we had a conversation about what kind of video games we played. And that was the most we've talked and other days until now it was as if the room was muted.

But is it right for him to just not tell me and leave all of a sudden? With all that trash scattered everywhere?

From the start based on our greetings and introductions, I knew that this person was not as comfortable based on his weak hand shake grip and his hunched back.

If he turns out to not return for the spring semester I have yet to have a roommate for the full academic year. My roommate from last year decided to transfer to another college in the fall. He was obsessed with mermaids and had the nagging urge to leave on 'Friends' on full volume as he sleeps. Thus, sleepless nights were common for me back then. I got a new roommate the following spring and he turned out to be a huge pothead who gave the littlest attention to hygiene. First day rooming with him and he got me involved with the university police. Apparently he was a notorious student on campus.

I just want to room with a person with common decency, preferably one who I know, and not get randomly put with ones who are just peculiar and odd. Of course I am not expecting much but the roommates I have had in the past are just way too odd for me to handle.

No need to make a snow angel because you are already an angel to me. 

That point where I am about to take my last final. That point where I am still trying to craft my schedule  and classes for next spring. That point where I am supposed to be studying for this last final. 

After this final comes packing. Then laundry. 

The struggle. Haha

愛ってすばらしい事だ。人生が、銀河の星のまぶしい光みたいに、もっと、明るく見える。永久に私の恋人。

As thanksgiving break winds its way, the overall ambiance of the university is slowly beginning to simmer down. It seems that many seats in my classes are not entirely occupied, as students begin to head home to see their family, and enjoy some food.

My English professor the other day basically dedicated a portion of the class giving a lecture about ratemyprofessors and demanded us to give him a higher chili pepper rating. Now that's hilarious.

Today one of my friends went off to Korea to apply for the military, as it is a requirement there for men to join the military at some point in their early twenties. If he is chosen he will most likely serve next summer. 

"I'm nervous," he said, adjusting the brim of his hat. 

His friend, who already served in the military, aided him and helped him practice for his interview in the library. As midnight was nigh, we shook hands and I told him best of luck and travel safe. 

Snow starts to wind its way down. Winter is coming.

I finally am headed home tomorrow. 

I am blue. 8-1 victory. 

These recent weeks I've been committed to a mix of sports and studying. Last week the team and I traveled to Cornell University to compete. Although we lost in the quarterfinals, we improved, and that is the most important aspect as we more and more strive towards 1st place.

Procrastination at the library

My college professors, especially my English professor, are funny. What they say are just hilarious as they even point-blank, without any second thoughts, curse freely.

One time, when the entire mundane class had no motivation to answer a question, he said,

"You guys are like mushrooms with no journalistic bone in your bodies. You just sit there like lumps, do you?"

LOL....

Now here's something I tend to experience when in college. The bathrooms are just plain disgusting. I really want to lift the lid when I take a leak but because other people's urine is splattered on it I lose the urge to do so. And now I'm just like screw it... Ugh, just plain gross. All I can say is, do your part.

On Saturday I went to a not-so-good frat party with my gf and a group of friends. Couldn't even move since there were too many people. Couldn't even talk because it was too loud. A mix of differentiated chatter, beer bottles shattering, the sound of ping pong balls hitting party cups, and the like.

In the wee hours of the morning we all ended up in the gas station convenience store, sitting on the edge like hooligans.

College life.

I'm so in love with you but when you get irritated for the smallest reasons it makes me feel so sad, like blinds covering a window full of sunshine.

Not sunshine but... seanshine.

It is a bright, sunny day, yet closing the blinds only darkens the mood. Darkens. Don't you know how that makes everything seem? Gloomy and depressing. And it makes me feel worried. Worried what might happen. And lost. Lost. And alone. Where the outside is enjoying the shine, and I am covered by artificial darkness. Isolated.

And because of that I lose motivation. It matters, even if you only are with me for a few seconds.

Can't focus when you're here. Yet can't get motivated without you here.

Samsa in Love-- From Dreams to Reality

Murakami's new short story, 'Samsa in Love', recently has been translated and published in the New Yorker and that has caught my attention.

I chanced to read this at the campus lounge on a Friday evening while waiting for a friend.

This short story, like any other, is gripping, mysterious, and a real casual page-turner.

Supposedly it's about a man who wakes up on an impulse and finds out that he is Gregor Samsa, the protagonist in Frank Kafka's 'Metamorphosis'.

The concept is pretty much the same from Metamorphosis, except that in Murakami's novel the protagonist wakes up to find himself as Samsa instead of a venomous insect.

Samsa, in Samsa in Love, is seen as dreary and has not the slightest iota of what happened during his extended sleep session. He finds himself in awe, as he sluggishly gets accustomed to his surroundings.

While reading this it reminded me a little bit of Plato's Allegory of the Cave in how the prisoners see the real world after escaping from the cave with artificial, minimal light. Once they escape, they are now accustomed to that real world with real, natural light from the sun, and, their memories of the conditions in the cave, in due time, fade away from their recollective memory. 

Going back to the short story, Samsa wakes up and sees himself in the real world and escapes from his dream world. He has no idea where he was, why he was there, where everyone was. But the more he aimlessly goes about his duties, he gets used to living in this mysterious, rather lifeless world. 

Two gem quotes I thought were worth noting:

"'Everything is blowing up around us, but there are still those who care about a broken lock, and others who are dutiful enough to try to fix it. . . . But maybe that’s the way it should be. Maybe working on the little things as dutifully and honestly as we can is how we stay sane when the world is falling apart.'" 

"'If you think of someone enough, you're sure to meet them again.'"

Overall this is worth reading if you've got the time. Whether you're taking a break from studying, got a gap between your classes, working, or just waiting for someone, like me, go ahead and take the time to thump over this little piece. 

MIT taekwondo tournament

The Sean triple threat at the MIT tournament. We fell short but gave it our all. We will win next time. 

come through

We were sitting in the benches outside the dorms on a Sunday evening late at night.

"There is something I need to tell you," I said.

"What," she asked. 

I made sure to choose the right words. 

"I like you."

"Aww," she said. "For real?"

"What you think I'm joking?"

"I believe you," she leaned her head against my shoulder. "What do you want to me say."

"I don't know you tell me."

"No you tell me."

"That you hate me?" I frowned. 

"I like you too."

And so it began on the early morning of October 14, 2013. 

College life in pics

Lunch date with friend. 

How's tricks. Since when is it October? How's college you say? Well it's going fairly okay, minus the stress from classes and the bruises and soreness from taekwondo. Late this month I am inevitably competing in a tourney at MIT. Our black belt team consists of three, all of them which are named Sean. Hence the Sean trio, which is actually pretty cool.

Now the taekwondo club consists of mostly undergrads, some with prior experience or none at all. Below are photos of five of the many neophyte practitioners posing in their crackling new doboks.

They later on photoshopped this photo
to paint their belts black... 

One of the disadvantages of living off campus is the need to take the bus every time I commute. This isn't NYC, where there are options to take a subway or hail a yellow cab that literally makes up most of the city's road population.

Last weekend I missed the last bus both nights and I ended up sleeping over at a friend's place, sandwiched on the bed with two women, jeans as my pajamas.

At this point the bus drivers probably recognize me by my face.

The other day my friend and I went to the mall to get a haircut. It was a weekday just before noon thus it was pretty deserted. I was worried at first whether or not I would not get the cut I preferred, but I showed the brunette barber in heels a picture of a style I intended to get and in ten minutes it was done. My friend got his, seeming dissatisfied, however. The back seemed more short than the sides, which did not look terribly bad.

"I need to get it like yours next time," he said.
"Just bring in a picture of a style you like," I said. "It's not a bad cut."
"You know to be honest you look kind of the same."
"This ain't no plastic surgery."

Also, I accidentally kind of joined an acapella group on campus. The first thing we complained about was the fact that the club met on a Friday night. But later on we didn't mind. A friend's friend dragged us along to the general interest meeting and we all had to eventually test our voices and find out where our ranges were. The president, a reserved, yet passionate piano aficionado told me to sing a couple scales. This whole thing was totally unexpected and I kept on asking myself how did I get here. While I didn't mind singing in the shower, singing, in general, was not really my forte. Eventually, I was a tenor. At this point, blurting point blank that I'd like to quit seemed rude. For now, you can say I'm unofficially in the group. Plus if they need a beatboxer I can certainly do something.The second meeting because my friends were going I went as well. We practiced in a large empty lecture hall, two hundred something seats all unoccupied as the twenty of us sat on the stage. We went over some tongue twisters, sung aloud Green Day's Time of Your Life, and mingled. Afterwards, it was a weekend full of parties.




Now the haircut, although hard to tell, is like this.

 

Mornings usually consist of a copy of the NY Times and some sort of food. 

some jokes and riddles

You're at a ballpark watching the game when a vendor comes by selling beers around the top of the third inning. As a safety requirement, most major league stadiums don't sell beer after the seventh inning. The vender yells,

"Last cold beer!!"

But the way the vendors say it leaves the fans but to only hear,

"Last CALL beer!!"

See what they did there?

A friend has two buddies who are both named Miles. Both smoke marijuana. What do you get when you put them together? 

Two Miles per hour on the highway.

Call it a productive day

Today, I guess, was a rather productive day.

I attended two lectures in the afternoon and in the evening, an intense taekwondo sparring workout. Even one of the masters said that it was the hardest workout they've done in a while.

The workout even got me down on the ground, taking breathers while my shirt was drenched in sweat.

Impressed by my hard work, the master told me to lead the cheer in the end. And I did. I was proud.


After the workout, my friend-- who also took the beginner's class-- and I went to the campus dining center to get some grub. At the time I couldn't even eat. Mind was swirling around as I stared into space. I was downright exhausted.

"You okay?" he asked, half-jokingly.
Yeah, I was, I said laughing. But real tired.

Thus I took the pizza to-go while he even couldn't finish the rest of his. Forgetting to bring a shirt, he remained in his sweaty cotton t-shirt that he wore during the workout. He was od sweating bullets. For me I made the right choice by bringing an extra shirt.

The only thing I could do while he was munching on his pizza was gulp down a fountain drink of Powerade and take breathers. Yeah the workout was THAT intense. Minutes after I'd take small bites of my apple.


It was a long bus ride back. It was crowded as well. Had to stand. Grasping the to-go pizza on one hand, all I could do at that time, alone, was to stare at the dark passing scenery of this little suburban town.

Got back an hour before midnight, roommate was playing games on his computer. I immediately took a shower.

Then I washed my drenched workout shirt. While washing it in the sink, I met my next door roommate, from Boston, for the first time. First thing we basically talked about was whether or not we watched baseball.

And yep, he was such a huge Red Sox fan that he worked at Fenway.

But we became friends, despite the rivalry in baseball.

Then I jumped on my bed and got some shuteye. A 9am class awaits...

College so far in pics 写真で大学生活

My dorm
僕の寮

Glad to see that the campus has sushi
寿司もあります

A typical breakfast
朝ご飯

At the university library, procrastinating.
図書館にて

Some of the first friends I've met on campus
最初に作った友達

This kid is only a freshman but he has a way nicer room and a waaay nicer view than me -___-
こいつまだ大学一年生なのに俺よりめちゃくちゃいい寮に住んでるな。

week 1

It's been a week since I moved in and things are slowly but surely coming into place, sort of. I can pretty much navigate my way around campus, know which bus to take, and have made a couple of friends. 

I attended the first taekwondo meeting on Tuesday and it was great. Some athletes there knew some people from my hometown dojang. Connections. 

The club was huge. So many people came, from beginners to black belts. Met the president of the club and we are now friends. 

I'd try not to show off when I'm doing pad drills, but it can't be helped. 

"Show off!" Mr. President would say

But I said I was just doing what I do normally. Nothing new. 

In the club I also met a girl, who, at first, said that I looked like Jay Park. And I took it as a compliment.  She liked the way I kicked, and I taught her how to kick. On top of that we both came from the city, and we both instantly exchanged our information. Another friend made.

My roommate and I would continue to not say a word to each other unless it is really, terribly necessary. Oftentimes he would sleep around 8pm so there wasn't really a chance for us to even talk anyways. He'd lay on his bed and glare at something from his iphone just inches away from his eyes. An hour later he'd be dead asleep. 

One time around the wee hours of the night he yelled out something in Chinese. And man did that wake me up. And man did that scare the crap out of me. 

A peaceful night with crickets crying outside from the window. All of a sudden,

$@%!()*@&@^)!^@%@^#$@$(*   !!!

Now the dorm is ridiculously hot. We both don't have fans. And even though the window is cracked wide open it doesn't help one bit. Beads of sweat drip down along my body when I'm sleeping. A sign that I should probably get one. 

There's so many people in the campus that you meet someone new everyday. And the one's you want to be with more you gotta really go for it and talk to them or else they will go off and immediately stumble upon new people and forget who you are. Because sometimes, there are some people that you just meet and never see again. 

Sophomore year debut

First day of classes and I'm already disliking this commuting-dorm life. It was a cloudy morning, the sun covered from the mundane and ominous grey rain clouds. Yesterday my roommate requested that I go with him to the main campus since we had classes relatively at the same time and because he hadn't the slightest iota how to get there. I decided we head out around 8 am. 

And so it's around 7:45 and we went and had breakfast before we left, and there I met his other friend. Of course, from China as well. 

The three of us plopped down on the seats and munched away. I had a bagel with cream cheese, my roommate, again, had some raw toast, and his friend a caesar salad. Very random combination. Not a word would loom across the table. It was a quiet, awkward moment. Even if I'd yap out something in English they wouldn't understand me if not barely. I could blurt out some sentences I've learned in Chinese class but I'd only make a fool of myself and it would go nowhere. My roommate after a while was, again, already finished with his toast before us. Not even his friend talked to him; there he was wolfing down his salad with an unpleasant frown on his face. As if there was something missing in his salad. I was beginning to question their friendship and how they really got along.

Eventually my roommate's friend blurted out something in Chinese to him and he spoke to me in english shortly after saying that he needed to get something. Thus he left. It was down to my roommate and I. 

I finished my bagel and my roommate asked if we could go back to the room to grab his jacket. Sure, I said, since I also needed to grab my rain jacket. We headed out and just before I opened the door outside, he said that his friend was going to drive him to the main campus so bye. I was like what, ok then. 

So that's what his friend needed to get. His freaking car. 

Why didn't my roommate tell me that earlier?

They're so awkward. 

Now there I was in the crowded bus full of students. I plugged in my ears with music and gazed at the passing suburban scenery. 

A car or a bicycle and life would be so much easier, I thought.

Once I arrived, I headed to my first class. Outside of the lecture doors were a horde of students waiting. I was a good 15 minutes early. 15 minutes later another horde of students exited from the lecture halls from the previous class. Nearly took five full minutes just to let them all out. 

And there I was in my seat. A typical lecture. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

But then came the math class. I've read about the professor on ratemyprof and according to past students, this guy was not good. But I figured that people only posted on that thing if they're really good or really bad. Instead of swapping math classes for a different professor, I thought why not give it a shot. But minutes in and I already wasn't feeling this guy. 

His phone rang twice during class. Handwriting nearly illegible. Seems like he's making the material harder than it really was, made a typo on a problem and after a student corrected him, he responded with, 'i'm not responsible with numbers, i hate numbers too.' 

um what?! 

You're a damn math professor for god sakes. 

Now he wasn't old. He was the type of guy you would meet at a bar. Overall it seemed that he had a idgaf attitude. Which doesn't really account for a decent professor. 

Now I'm thinking about dropping. But then again should I just bear with it? 

I got out and realized I had a good hour before my last evening lecture. Had nowhere to really go. Nobody to really talk to, yet. First time I was at a school with nearly 20,000 people so it was a difficult adjustment for me. Felt like a little fish in the deep ocean. I chilled in the lounge and went over my schedule, planner, and checked my phone. The time where I wish I brought some sort of book. Around me were groups of students eating together, some in their frat and sorority shirts. I was bored. I really was. 

It's really hard.

Getting used to a new place full of new people and new surroundings. 

But I try to stay positive as much as possible. 

I had dinner alone at the dining hall in one of the residence halls on campus by my lonesome. A salad, pasta with marinara sauce and fries on the side. Dessert? Cantaloupe and honeydew melons. Those were the only fruits they had. I stared at the vacant seat across from me for the longest time. Nobody was sitting there. 

I waited for the bus after. Night time. It was pouring, heavily. Got wet, but luckily I had my blue raincoat with me. Bus came, and I sat down in the back, squeezed amongst other students. Terrible day for commuting. Bus lights dimmed. Outside barely visible from the droplets of water. Monotonous motors running. I closed my eyes. At the time that was the only thing I could do. Commuting-dorm life ain't so convenient. 

It was around 8:30 when I came back and my roommate was already asleep. 

Late August, New College Move-in

 Late August. A time where the entire city is hushed. There were slightly fewer people on the subway and on the streets. More taxi cabs than regular cars, and less customers in restaurants. Most were probably enjoying their final summer vacations or getting ready for school. Summer camps and summer jobs were near ending, or probably already have. It was the time of the month where couples said goodbye to their summer fling partner, and a time where leaves progressively turned orange and red.


And here I am in my new dorm. The unfortunate part is the fact that it is located off-campus and because I don't have a car the only way to go to the main campus is to take the bus like everyone else. And yes, it's always crowded. The schedule is confusing. The map is confusing. The times are confusing. Hope I can get to class on time, I pray for that. Now it's not the city. No delis and stores on every block, and no yellow cabs on the streets. Frat houses, trees, and more trees is what I'm dealing with here. The nearest market is a few miles away. And even if there was, the people who worked there literally lived right upstairs in the same building. I'm so used to the urban environment that this is undoubtedly a huge culture shock to me. This dorm is right smack in the middle of the student ghetto, Phil, one of the first people I met after we both got lost trying to find where the dining hall was, said.

This dorm can pretty much be called the we-don't-have-enough-room-for-you-on-campus-so-you-gotta-stay-here dorm. We've been pushed aside and isolated from the main campus. It has three stories, I live on the third. Once again, no elevators and no AC so moving in was a huge pain. The halls are like a maze; took me a good hour trying to find where everything was, and I'm still not one hundred percent sure yet. As far as I know, there isn't a water fountain nor a rubbish room in this dormitory, which kind of sucks. I'm left to just drink out of the tap. At least we got a fridge. Even if you got sexiled or just wanted to go out and sit outside somewhere there would be literally nowhere to go. The first time I set foot on this place I thought to myself how am I going to manage living here for the year?

I set up my alarm radio and tuned into the local stations from home but I got nothing but white noise. It was then that I thought I was actually pretty far.

It took me a few hours to get here from home, much longer than my previous university. Mom helped me pack my stuff and then my friend drove me away with the SUV. Mom stood there by the house, waving until she lost sight of the car. I shed a tear.

It was raining that time but it stopped shortly after. Rain of tears.


It's been a couple of days and I can already say that this university is massive. So when you are alone, you would feel really alone. It was all about you. You and your body working as a team.

The odds of bumping into someone you know are close to nil.

And that's pretty much how I made friends last year in my previous university. It pretty much began when I saw someone in my class wandering around on campus and chatted with them, and vice versa. I just don't think that will happen here, at least not as often.

Roommate moved in two days later. An international student, from northern China. Communicating with him is hard. Gotta really slow down in order for him to decipher everything. Along with that he knows little no information about the campus. Didn't even have a student ID card yet. If it weren't for me telling him about the basic stuff on this campus and managing everything he would've gotten lost no doubt.

Thus I escorted him to the dining hall (yeah I finally am getting the hang of knowing how to get there) and we had breakfast. Because he didn't have his student ID yet, I had to cover for him. Not even a thank you.

I had a waffle and some cereal and an apple while he was wandering around the dining hall as if he was still lost in his own world. Finally he decided a slice of raw toast.
"What are you majoring in?" I asked to get a conversation going.
He was undecided. Said he's going to take english classes to improve on his english.
"How old are you?"
He was a year my junior.
"Excited for college?"
He nodded.

We fell into quietness. A pretty long one. Even if I would've said something he would only nod, reply in monosyllables, or just not get it. Around us were other students munching their food away. Clattering of dishes and silverware, chatter.

"Sorry for making you wait," I was halfway through my waffle and on his plate were nothing but crumbs.
"What?"
"Sorry for taking too long."
He seemed confused.
I gestured eating and took a glance at my watch. Resort to charades when uncommunicable.
"Oh," he said, flat.
This is going to be a long year, I thought.


In fact there is a significant number of international students here. I met a guy from Fukuoka during the campus tour. English is definitely one of the many languages that is spoken here.

I knew beforehand that one of my classmates from high school went to this university, but never knew that she would get placed in the same hall as me. We exchanged hellos, and talked about what was new.

Classes begin tomorrow. Summer vacation winds its way down. Sophomore year here we go.

8/16 kind of day 8/17 kind of morning

My longtime music instructor today was performing in the park and I thought I'd drop by and say hello. He played various jazz melodies on the piano, great music that flowed throughout the crowded park filled with businessmen on lunch break, couples embracing, attractive women with their skirts and shorts with shopping bags hung on their arms, and middle aged locals reading the paper and having a joe. It was lively. 

At first he couldn't recognize me. Glad I've matured at least a little bit.

"Feels like you went somewhere and really experienced and learned a lot," he said, glancing at my attire. "You look different in a good way."

"Thanks," I laughed. 

We talked about what a teacher and a student who haven't seen each other for a year would talk about. How's school, when's school, how's life. Then he thanked me for coming and we shook hands. 

"See you around."

I went around town and the hour was noon. This meant that workers were out and about from their office buildings and were roaming the streets however rushed, for some grub. You had to blend in with the pedestrian traffic in order to walk on the sidewalks. Sudden halts and walking in a pace below the unwritten speed limit would cost you a few curses and infuriation from businessmen and women alike. They just keep on walking, not phased by the wondrous sights of the block. That's noontime for you in the city. 

I went to a bookstore to catch my eyes on books but nothing really caught my fancy. I looked for a specific book but seeing that they didn't have it I walked out and aimlessly walked about.

Evening I ate dinner with a couple of friends at our go-to place while watching the Yankees play the Red Sox at Fenway. Yankees crushed them in double digits. It was supposedly my farewell dinner before I was back to college. But farewell was a word I hated. Made everything seem more sad. It was more of a celebration. Cheers for a good summer, or something like that. 

Came home, sleepy and dazed. Then it hit me that it was me who had to move back to college. No more of this city-that-never sleeps vibe. Everyone else stayed put. 

Non-alcohol beer. 

Writing this on a three AM tired and sleepy and mind slightly blank. Tongue still has the aftertaste of beer. Computer screen way too bright for my eyes. I lower the contrast. Today was the barmaid's birthday. Never knew that. Never knew that she was a mother, too. Laughing at the fun times with the friends. See you in December, we said. I'm coughing. Need water. Gulp down. Feeling better. Obnoxious roar of the AC motors from other buildings hindering peaceful quietness. I shut off computer, bury myself in sheets, sleep envelopes more naturally than usual. good night.

the little stroll

Picture this:

A pigeon abruptly hits the glass of a storefront with a thud right before your eyes and flies away as if nothing ever happened.

Yep, that's what happened on my little dorm shopping stroll. Scared the crap out of me.

What else?

I noticed three people from my high school at different times, neither of which I knew enough to strike up a conversation. Didn't know what to say and even if I did, it would seem really awkward and unexpected. Two were guys possibly four or five years my senior, and the other, an attractive girl a year my junior. Even if I said hello to them I doubt they'd remember who I was.

Someday I'd figured that the girl would take up modeling. She was attractive. Slender and fit. But as she passed me, what's on her mind seemed like nothing but her upcoming freshman year in college. Rushed pace, emotionless, deliberately heading somewhere as if there was no time to lose. Who'd halt a girl like that?

Come to think of it, we only small talked a couple of times in school, the most we got was probably at a party sometime in the winter, senior year. The place was dark. Very few lights, booming music. She was laying on the couch with a couple of other girls, and I was pretty sure they yelled out my name, seductively:

"Seannyyyy~"

But I never really looked their way. I was talking to a few friends and didn't even know if they were calling my name. But it seemed like it. Could've glanced at their direction when they yelled, but I didn't.   I pretty much just ignored. How foolish of me.

They could've been drunk. Who knows.



No matter how much I detest packing, I began to slowly gather my stuff today.. Room is scattered with dorm supplies and clothes. It's as if a vacation is suddenly closing. Can't complain, though. I had three months. Months of sunshine and nice weather. Relaxation and lazy nights and days, snoozing afternoons, and carefree moods.

And now, for us college students, we are suddenly thrown back to reality in a matter of days. Some in a matter of weeks. Damn those.

8/15 Yankees

This time was unable to receive the 14 and younger promo item: Mo poster. 

Quite possibly my last game of the season :( 

Tough loss for Yanks against the LA Angels but they take the series 3-1. Clutch player throughout the series gotta go to Soriano. 

Keep it up, Yankees. 

City Vibe

I dug out a few paperbacks from high school English and thumped over them. There were underlined and annotated notes here and there, and most of the pages faded yellow. Dusting off the copies, I spent my afternoon reading these nostalgic books. Recently nothing in the past few days are worth noting for me. The life of Seany in the summer of 2013: boredom yet relaxing. Driving, going to Yankee games, writing, going to the beach.

In the street I munched on a burger while staring at the street performing regulars. Rain or shine, these guys were here almost everyday, at least all the time when I was at this part of town. They didn't give a damn. Until they gathered a decent audience, none of the action ever started. Already, though, there was a whole crowd that took up the entire part of the street. Their performance typically was not outstanding but good enough to watch. I sat adjacent from all this and leisurely wolfed down the burger. Their boom box blasted Jackson's 'Smooth Criminal'.

In the evening I usually worked out. Usually consisted of jogging out in the park or training at the dojang. Whenever I'd jog the beautiful cityscape would be my view and I'd be running with other joggers of my kind.


I came home and lay on my bed. Days and days of monotonous repetition. Nothing ever changed. Millions of individuals were somewhere out there in the city, going about their own duties and leisure activities while I was questioning myself in what I was doing. A stack of books and movies were on my desk along with a writing pad full of my ideas and free notes. A dharma doll with both its eyes unfilled, pens, and a box of paperclips. Two empty water bottles and some change strewn everywhere. A printed out picture of the statue of Ninomiya Kinjiro was on my wall on the side. With an opened book in his left hand, he gave out a smart, sophisticated look. A look as if he was to say, "Knowledge will plant the seeds for power and strength. Don't create or pretend to have knowledge, knowledge is within you."

Stashed away in the corner were manga books both in Japanese and English that I had meant to read during the summer. For some reason, though, I never had the motivation. Maybe it was because of the plot, or the way the series was being carried. It didn't appeal to me, perhaps. So I parking-lotted that plan and instead, resorted to doing other unremarkable things.



My driving is really good, said my instructor, but it's unfortunate that I can't take the road test during the summer. I'm pretty much ready but I wasn't the only one who wanted a license.

I had a dream the following day where I ate with my high school friends at a restaurant. We all sung aloud some old western song, I think. For some reason everyone knew it. I think it was from 'High Noon'

Do not forsake me oh my darlin'

Then a little after I met with a girl and we sat on the steps of a townhouse and made out.

I had a good time, but I woke up only figuring out that those moments were nothing but a dream. Didn't even see one of them during the entire summer thus far.

Do not forsake me oh my darlin'

Wiping the drool off my face, I got out of bed, stretched, and chugged down a glass of orange juice. Another ordinary day was about to start.

I met with one of my close friends that I usually hung out with. We stopped by a local Chinese restaurant for some grub. His choice. Empty seats. There was nobody but us as the speaker system leaked out pop songs from the early 2000s. Without the music the place had a very quiet, subdued ambiance. Waitress gave us menus as we ordered to our leisure. Not the greatest but manageable. We ate in a matter of minutes. At one point, the waitress placed the check with two fortune cookies with a kind of time-to-get-out-of-here attitude. After we went dutch, we left the restaurant without any thank you from the waitresses. A typical Chinese restaurant.

"You know if I was on a date with a girl, I would never take her here," he said.
"Tell me about it." The place was pretty run-down. "Lesson learned."

We walked around the neighborhood, nothing really new. Nothing on our agenda. We went to a pet shop to stare at animals. Birds, fishes, cats, and hamsters. Carefree in their own world yet trapped in their cages and tanks.

Time vanished, and it was the evening. He took the bus back home. I bought an ice coffee and sat down on a bench. About ten days and I was back to college.

My friend commuted and went to a college in the city so he never had to worry about any packing and living life independently. In fact, most of my friends commuted. Nobody really knew what it was like dorming. Nobody knew the long trip, the boxes, the clothes, those little items that you couldn't forget. That sudden feeling of being by yourself, and having to manage everything, from laundry to work.

A police car zoomed by the street with its sirens, the taxi cabs and regular cars pulling over by the curb to let it go through. A kid with a slurpee swished by on his scooter in the sidewalk, his mother yards away, casually talking to the babysitter.

A man, seemingly retired, plopped down at the other end of the bench, lightly whistling a tune. I rattled the drink as the ice clattered. No more in there. It was empty.

A light breeze hit me, then died.

The food vendor across the street was beginning to pack up and a leaf from a branch fell onto the roof of a parked car.

I went home.

8/10 Yankees

Still able to get 14 and younger promotional items at the stadium. One of the perks of looking young.

Tough loss against the Tigers. Miguel Cabrera is unstoppable. 

But hey, great day with mom. 

These past few days I've learned how to parallel park, met and trained with a young taekwondo athlete from Denmark, and read a couple of Raymond Carver stories.

I went to a karaoke yesterday until the break of dawn with some friends and woke up today around the afternoon feeling exhausted and dazed.

One look at my phone call history and all I saw from the past few days were from wrong numbers, one friend, the driving school, and my mom. Nothing new. Nothing really stood out. The days kept passing by as if the world was fast forwarding and as soon as you knew it August made its way.

Sunglasses on I walked along the neighborhood. Everyday was the same, not that I was expecting anything different. Morning the birds would melodiously hum a tune, afternoon the restaurants get overcrowded, rush hour and the business people would come dashing out from the station and fiercely speed walk their way home.

My previous driving lessons I've been mainly working on parallel parking and aside from my axel control, that is my main flaw in driving.

On one of my attempts I parked too far from the curb. And sometimes, it was the opposite. Occasionally I'd nail it.

After the lesson I pulled over to the side and put the gear on park. My instructor, in his laid-back self, told me that it was just all a matter of practice and judgement.

With my hands still gripped in a nine to three position on the wheel, and the engine still running, I took a huge sigh and stared at the cars ahead and their taillights. Pedestrians walked by as they normally would while the interior of the car was significantly subdued. My eyes then began to fix on the road and its worn out lane marks.

"Hey," he said. "You good?"
"Yeah," I mumbled.
"Drifting off?"
"No pun intended?"
He laughed.
"Anyways, It's the end of the lesson, man. You're improving, keep it up."


I went home and opened up a paperback. I followed the sentences but my mind wouldn't keep up. Couldn't read today for some reason. Probably still tired from yesterday. Definitely tired from yesterday.



Panini in hand while plopped on a bench. Crickets crying in the trees, pigeons searching for food. And far away, the metropolitan drone. Clouds soundlessly drifting north, tree branches sweeping to and fro. Young couple flirting with joy across, the mercury vapor lamp shining their faces. Weak leaves falling. These lonely summer nights.

一風堂

NYに新しい一風堂が先日オープンしました。暇そうだったけどうまかったです。

7/28 yankees

Today's Yankee game was awesome.

Before their 6-5 win against the Rays this afternoon, Yankees honored 2009 MVP Hideki Matsui. He signed a one day deal with their minor league team and retired as a true Yankee. 

Fans were lined up by the gates hours before the game, making sure they got today's promotional item: limited edition Matsui bobbleheads. 

Significantly more Japanese people in attendance.

Now, the game details.

The Return of the Jeter. 

The captain not only started the game off with a solo homerun, but has broken the Yankees' streak of their 9 consecutive homerun-less games. Soriano also homered and ended the game with a sweet walk off single. Ichiro was also clutch today as he went 4-4.


My mom and I have a long history of going to Yankees games together. And most of the time, we've gotten lucky and have been able to see some memorable moments, especially Jeter's. We were there when we saw him hit his 3000th hit, and we were also there when he made his 2013 season debut, where he only played a game. Watching Yankee games is something we will cherish for a lifetime. 

Dream About a Friend

Now I know I often post my dreams here but they are all dreams that really made an impact on me. Real vivid ones that I could still recall even after months.

Yesterday night my dream, for reasons unknown, starred one of my friends who I mainly spent my time with last summer. She was a college student, two or three years my senior. The girl who I owed 67 pushups but never actually did. The girl who I gave my phiten necklace to. We spent a many days and nights talking about our lives, bumming out on the streets while taking in the evening breeze. But fast forward to this summer and we haven't even spoken a word to each other. If by chance she stumbles upon this post, I dedicate this to her, just because of the dream I had. You know who you are.


So it went like this.


I think I was at a mall. Now of course, it's a dream so I don't know the specifics. Just a modern mall. I was ensconced in a sofa in some kind of bookstore, studying some document. When I took a break from reading and took my eyes away from the paper I saw at a distance the girl eating with a friend I knew at some kind of diner. They were sitting at the bar, their chairs were facing my direction. The friend she was eating with I knew pretty well; we were coworkers at one point. He had a medium build with sharp eyes shaped like a flying saucer. At first I doubted that was her, eating with him, but it was them all right. I stared at them for a while, and finally her eyes met mine. However her reaction didn't change a bit. Not even a flinch. No wave, no smile. She remained in her composure, continuing to bite off of her chicken stick, all the while the guy talking to her. And it was a scornful look, as if to question why I was there. 

I got up and walked out of the mall and entered an apartment building into one of the hallways. God only knew why. It's dark, the lights dimmed. Different doors leading to different rooms. The rubbish room door in the corner and the door leading to the stairs next to it. A typical apartment hallway. For some reason I began to walk straight, destination unknown. I didn't even live there. Didn't have any key to any room so it was rather pointless. But while walking I felt a human spirit looming somewhere close. I was definitely not alone. Someone was there. I stopped and looked behind. A girl with a black sleeveless shirt, shorts, and a Longchamp slung over her shoulder was walking the opposite direction from me, her back facing my direction. The same attire I saw her wearing at the diner. It was her, I rasped. Slowly I decided to tail her, wondering where she was going. She didn't live in this part of the town so why was she here? I thought. Not even her friend that she was eating with lived in this area. Maybe visiting one of their friend's and I happened to coincidentally come to the same apartment building in the same floor. I made small steps, one by one. And after a while, the face of the same friend she was with earlier popped out from her neck. His face, no doubt. Those sharp, flying saucer pairs of eyes. His entire body then all of a sudden slimed out of from her neck, squirming out like an earthworm. He fell straight down and lay flat on his stomach then slowly got up and gave me an evil smirk. Realizing my presence, she turned around and gave me the same scornful look from before, with no word, no reaction, nothing. The boy didn't even say anything either. Two pairs of eyes pointing my direction in silence. The boy eventually led us all outside. I decided to follow them for some strange reason. The boy walking a few steps ahead of us. Meanwhile the girl and I were walking at the same pace however several feet away from each other. None of us said a word. In fact, the entire dream had no dialogue. 

We eventually entered a bubble tea cafe, and we sat down. None of us had bubble tea. We just sat down and I forgot what happened after that..

But then it continued from there. The next day I was back alone leisurely walking around the street with my iced coffee and take out from McDonald's and while waiting at the red light, a silver convertible drove by and there I saw the same girl and boy. The roof open. The boy driving. Both wearing sunglasses. They never saw me but I saw them. And it was them all right. My mouth was wide agape as I stared at the car zooming by until I lost sight of it. I didn't even notice that I had dropped my iced coffee. 


The dream ends there.

Perfect Ten, Tourism, Philip-Lorca diCorcia

We were sitting by the station plaza munching down our McDonald's burgers and fries.

"Ever see a ten in your life?" he ventured.
"Many, many times."
"There was one in my macroeconomics class," he said while shoving down some fries in his mouth. "We sat across from each other."
"How far did you guys go?"
"We just talked," he mumbled.
"You know I once went on a run with a ten across a bridge," I said. "Around junior year in high school. She was a ten, no doubt. Pretty obnoxious but a price I could live with. But then my impression of her changed completely after this one little thing."
He froze before taking another bite of his burger and looked at me straight in the eye. "What happened?"
"It may ruin your appetite."
"I don't care."
"We took a break after we went across. She blew her nose. Without a tissue."
His mouth was wide agape. "What the hell."
"I know. Her beauty drastically went down after I saw her do that. Now every time I think about her she is nowhere near the level of attractive at all. Didn't really matter since I never saw her again."
"Man that's a shocker," he said.
I nodded. "What about your ten? What did you guys talk about."
"Ah, just small talk."
"Lame," I blurted, taking a long look at my uneaten burger. "Should've done something. Gotta expand, take things a step further."
"Nah, I like to take my time."
"Life is all about timing. Next thing you know she gets married to a rich man as they decide to live in a luxury condo in Bali."
"Bali?"
"Just an example."
He nodded while he took a bite from his double quarter pounder.


If someone were to ask me what I've accomplished over the summer, I'd have no concise and reasonable answer so far. My summer days this year hasn't been the most eventful or the most memorable. June has past in a blink of an eye, America's birthday has passed and so has mine. July is approaching its end. I've met with some of my friends (none of whom were from my high school), read a decent number of books, wrote a bunch of unfinished stories, and trained at the dojang from time to time. Driving lessons here and there. My initial goals were to get my left ear pierced and get a job at my local bookstore. But my lackadaisical mindset only delayed those tasks. But my primary and ultimate goal for the summer is to earn my license.


Recently I've been spending my days watching movies at home. One by one, at least two a day. But one day, midway through a movie, on an impulse, I had the urge to go to the airport. The thought dawned on me, in the most random moment. Perhaps I wanted to fly, I had no idea myself. What was the point if you questioned your own thoughts? At that moment all I wanted to do was go to the airport. Not to depart to a city, but to just be there.

So I tried to grab a cab. Hailed one no less than a minute. I knocked on his window as he pulled it down. I told him I wanted to go to the airport.

"No good," he said.

I hailed another but the driver, with a bluetooth device hooked on his ear, also declined with a disgusted look on his face.

Losing motivation, I gave up.



I was leaning against the door on the train when a blonde entered through the opposite door at the next stop. She sat down on the seat closest to the door, literally right next to me. She began to incessantly stroke her silky hair with both her hands, the fragrance of her soothing conditioner wafting around me. Nice long legs and a slender physique. For a second I though she was someone I knew, but subtle features gave it away. I resumed to stare ahead of the door across from me, my emotionless face reflecting from the glass.

I bought some clear noodles at a Korean food court and a can of soda for the beverage and plopped myself down on a random bench outside. Getting tan from the sun, I munched away while taking in the city scene: your usual metropolitan drone where bustling cars and taxi cabs honked their horns, airplanes from above roared their Rolls Royce engines, metals clinked and clanked from construction, and police cars zoomed their way through the road with their sirens. Adjacent from where I was sitting food vendors were furiously arguing in their own language. Traffic officers were checking whether the cars were properly parked by the curb, and a pack of tourists all in identical colored shirts were slowly walking by the sidewalk, looking left and right at the buildings and pretty much every little detail you could imagine.


Now let me drift aside a little bit and talk about my thoughts on tourism. In general being a tourist is a wonderful thing. At first, especially if you come from another country, things may seem off, or, somewhat uncomfortable. You might not even be able to speak its native language! I know since I've been in that position before. But that didn't really matter. To me, it didn't matter really much where you were going or what you were going to do; just being in that specific city itself brought joy. And although there can be some haters, a.k.a, the locals, it's best not to mind them at all. Locals tend to detest tourists since some feel they really get in the way and become a 'nuisance' to them but wake up locals, tourists are one of the reasons why we are able to gain funds for our city!! We can't hate on them! They are what keeps our city in great shape minus the capitalism and all of those hidden transactions going on. Anyways, no matter if you are in a random alleyway in Boston or climbing up one of San Francisco's rolling hills, tourists are happy that they are actually, undoubtedly, there, finally standing on their own two feet at the place they dedicated a whole chunk of their time planning to travel to. It's a sense of accomplishment. That 'we did it guys!' kind of feeling. At least, that's how I felt.

And I guess you don't have to be a tourist in order to feel that way. I wanted to go to the airport for no reason at all. If I wasn't going anywhere, and I wasn't picking anyone up at arrivals, and I wasn't sending anyone off at departures, and I didn't work there, what was the point? It was the joy of being there, taking in the airport ambiance, where we hear flight announcements from the speakers and the portmanteaus rolling against the ground along with the planes taking off and landing every minute while hearing its loud engines rumble against the windows. Those airport vibes.



Once I finished eating, I dazed off a little bit while sipping down a can of ginger ale that was beginning to feel lukewarm. With nothing much to do, I lit up a cigarette and kicked back, blankly staring at the car parked in front of me for reasons unknown. After a few puffs, I glanced at the clock on the statue. 1:30.


I dialed the girl from college. Four rings was all it took.

"What, another moon?"
"Am I speaking with Ms. Lunatic?"
"Jerk... How's tricks?"
"Same as ever. Scorching hot here in the sun."
"Uhm why don't you chill in the shade?"
"What's wrong with tanning?"
"Twenty bucks says that you're going to dehydrate."
"Say, you got any time for me?" I ignored.
"Who do you think you are, hunh?"
"A man."
"More like a little baby."
"More like a man who is holding on to his youth."
She snickered. A beautiful little laugh. "I got a few hours."
"How about I meet you at the station plaza in a half hour?"
"Sounds like a plan," and she hung up.


I went to a nearby Lawson and bought a pack of gum. Perhaps I had an oral fixation. I lingered my way to the magazine stands. On the cover of one magazine was a Japanese actress I've never seen before and beside that a pop magazine with Selena Gomez smiling adorably on the cover. Curious, I flapped over them, eyeing over some of the latest gossip. Not anything worth noting in the celebrity world. Of course, next to all of that were the latest installations of Weekly Jump.

I ended up buying a Hemingway short story collection book. I sat on the bench some more and hummed various ballad songs while thumping through the pages of Hemingway. The girl lived pretty near from where I lived yet no so near that we could see each other every single day. A fair distance.

Time passed and at one point, a loud voice came out of nowhere with a mildly aggressive thump on my back.
"BOOO!"
Seeing my terrified reaction, she laughed.
"Wutchu reading," she asked, playing with my hair from behind.

She was wearing a sleeveless white shirt that had a vintage image of a row of palm trees at dusk, and tight blue jeans. A cream colored handbag was loosely hanging on her arm. Oversized shades. To complete the look she wore a fresh pair of black Tom's. Bangs pinned up. Her same woody fragrance lingered around me.

"Hemingway," I responded.
"Eww. You're such a bookworm." she sat down on the chair across from me. Elbows propped on the table, hands resting on her chin, gazing at me as if intrigued by my appearance. In sheer reflex, I shut the book and placed it on the table. The more I looked at her the more I began to realize how long I have missed her.
"It's been a while, Sean," she smiled. "It's been a while since I've seen that baby face of yours."
"Ashley," I rasped. "You look great."
"Don't even say it. I look like such a bum today. But thanks," she scratched the edge of her nose. "You know those days where you just can't decide what to wear?"
Before I even opened my mouth, she barked. "Who am I kidding. I'm asking a dude... A tee shirt and shorts and you're pretty much good to go."
Exactly what I wore.
"Easy stuff for you."
"It's not just that," I said. "You gotta make sure you match. Obviously you gotta be conscious that colors don't clash. But sometimes you have so many options yet you just can't find that perfect combination. Like Starbuck's and their frappucinos."
"Oh my god I could totally go for one right now. Plus I'm dying over here. I don't know how you can manage to sit your ass down here in this killer heat."


Whereupon we made our way to a Starbucks and ordered to our leisure. Feeling uninspired, I had a green tea frappe while she had a Neapolitan frappe. Tempted to see how her's tasted, I took a sip from her frappe. And, just for the hell of it, she took a sip from mine. We plopped down on a table and took a breather. A Teruo Nakamura-esque fusion jazz song was playing on low volume from the ceiling speakers. Finding the right moment, I began.

"Remember when I became your alarm clock and told you to take a look at the moon the other day?"
"The invisible moon, in my case," she emphasized. "Of course I do."
"Well it seems it's playing tricks with me too."
"What do you mean."
"I'm in my apartment and the moon was clearly visible, I go outside and it's gone."
"Maybe a cloud was covering it for a brief second?"
"Thought so too but it wasn't the case."
She was mixing the whip with the straw of her frappe and began to laugh. "You sure this isn't a dream?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"The things you do late at night," she shook her head. "Why didn't you just shake it off and go to sleep?"
"Couldn't sleep. That's how I found out about the moon."
She leaned back on her chair and adjusted her sunglasses that sat just above her forehead. As usual, she had on little to no makeup.

"The moon's just fed up with you distracting my sleep," she said. "A girl needs her sleep and the moon knows it."

At that moment there was nothing I could do but just stare at her.

"That's right, take it. It's tired of you staring at it all the time, unlike everybody else who just ignores it most of the time. You put it on the spot and make it feel uncomfortable. Think about the other side of the perspective for once. God, Mr. Lunatic, how could you."

I blushed, the edges of my mouth slightly smirking.

"But hey, cool story bro."

I smiled at her, then at the ground. We both took a moment to let the music catch into our ears. One by one customers entered and exited. In sheer reflex, I checked my watch. Almost half past three.

"Wanna watch a movie?" I suggested.
"I can't," she pouted. "I gotta be back in an hour or so for class. Then I've gotta attend my sister's party. I'm all yours tomorrow."
"How is class going for you?"
"It's going. Just numbers, numbers, and more numbers."
"Descriptive."
"Right? Call me the next Austen."



When the time came, we split off at the intersection where I was again left alone with my green tea frappe grasped in my hand. Once I finished sipping the dregs of it I headed home and washed my face with soap. The streak of hot weather was unbearable especially when it came to waiting for subways underground. Time then relentlessly scurried away. I read the paper, watched an episode of an old drama (clueless as to what was really going on), ate some rice crackers, listened to Jay Z's latest album, and lolled around on my bed. Before I knew it the sun was sinking. Never thought two hours would fly so quickly. 

Nighttime arrived and I found myself outside in the streets amongst couples. In addition a group of women were loitering around the block. Women in wedges, women in floral and bright summer dresses, women with their boyfriends and fiances. The headlights of a parked car shone a little butterfly fluttering its way around. Nearby bars were filled with drunk men. Locals were walking their dogs. With no plans, I sat down on a bench a little walk away from the block. Right then I figured that I was in a Philip-Lorca diCorcia photograph. I can imagine him walking up to me, no, from a distance, taking candid snapshots of my figure, using the neon-lit deli sign as the backdrop. My right leg would be resting on my left, cigarette would be slipped between my fingers, arm would be resting on the bench. My eyes slightly narrowed, deeply reminiscing and fantasizing about life in a solitary scenery.

Life is all about finding the right pair. Finding yourself in the right spot with the right people. In sports, a competitive and challenging opponent much to your level only makes the match more valuable and the win more satisfying, the loss more dramatic. Regardless if you win or lose, it is undoubtedly a much more rewarding feeling than facing off an opponent that is below your level of skill and gives only half their effort. Not to steal a word from the Fast and the Furious, but the people who you choose to be around lets you know who you are. Practicing with opponents on your level pushes you even further to greater heights. And that's what you need in order to improve. Don't stay constant; urge to rise. 

Same scenario with our friends, boyfriends and girlfriends, acquaintances and coworkers. The more you spend time with them, the more similarities you will start to share. Take the boyfriend/girlfriend as an example. When the couple starts to spend time, say, shopping, they'd start to realize their own trends and habits. Flip flops over Stiletto heels, jeans better than skirts, Lacoste over Armani Exchange. And usually what happens is the girl's fashion starts to change based on her boyfriend's opinions and preferences, and vice versa. The guy might want her to wear more jewelry and accessories while the girl might want her man to wear less t-shirts and more polo. We inspire each other more than we could ever imagine.