Merry Christmas

"He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking."

Leo Tolstoy


Don't mind the quote so much-- I just stole it from a Buzzfeed article.

Merry Christmas~

Time for joy and love and family-time and presents. Since the end of the semester I've been hanging around, relaxing, reading and writing. One of my guilty pleasures is listening to some K-Pop songs and learning the choreography for a few of them. In fact I'm in the process of setting up a manageable choreography for the taekwondo club on campus. I'm aiming to get this down pat sometime during the spring semester so the team could perform it. A few members are already psyched about it.

I just woke up from a four hour nap.

It was an overall alright semester. I've met a few new friends and I felt more free and relaxed than last semester. The highlight was probably breaking my pinky bone from a tournament early in the year. I was basically in the D.L. for the rest of the semester. I've attended more house parties than last year. Classes were especially dull, for some reason, but I managed to get by. Another highlight was performing taekwondo on stage with the demo team. Still trying to find a chance to talk to chair girl number two.

But hey, good vibes.

Finally done with all finals. Done with the semester.

It was a rough last final. An 8 a.m. final, handwriting eight pages worth of political philosophy. Outside was cloudy and raining. Yet everything is done. Yus.

Woke up past noon
ate a banana
roommate goes to dining hall for the first time this semester
learned a lot about him
as if we just met
because we never ate together before
campus emptying out by the second
a subdued atmosphere
as if orbit in space
a hushed dark murmur
said bye to suitemate
who's off to d.c.
ate again with mr. star
took the second to last exam
bubbling in answers one after the other
anxious selections
walked out
studied for the last exam
on a cloudy, misty evening
wolfed down suitemate's stuffed shells
he's on League while another is asleep
while another is gaming.
and so it went.

Stopped by the dining hall for the late night and unintentionally bumped into a number of random people I knew. First was my friend (the boy who cried wolf), then I bumped into my other friend in my Japanese class, then my Japanese discussion proctor, and then the president of the Japanese student association.

Tonight is the last night for one of my suitemates, as he's leaving tomorrow and will be in D.C. for next semester.

One final down, two to go.

My goal is to ace these remaining two, and meet chair girl number two.

Two is the magic number here.

I leave around noon when my roommate is fast asleep and come back in the evening as he's still in the same position, asleep. I guess that's the only thing to do when it's finals week. 

Now leaving that aside, I often question whether I'm a good friend or my friends are inconsiderate. I cannot stand it when someone brings up an idea, offer, or suggestion and they eventually let it pass the next day. I hate it when they get my hopes up and ultimately shoot it right back down. This happens all the time with some of my friends, and I don't know if I'm just expecting too much from them, but it's common sense to me to keep your words true. Otherwise you're just a liar, the next boy who cries wolf. 

I've learned this in my upbringing from my mother. How saying it and doing it are two different things. You'll say you'll do it but will you actually do it? The words were originally brought up from some learning center commercial and she used the concept ever since it aired on television. And I feel that it's very, very true. 

If you can't do it then don't offer it in the first place. Don't pitch me a plan that you won't execute. And don't explode with meaningless excuses. I don't care if you're sick, if you got into a fight with your girlfriend or boyfriend, or if you have work. In general, if you specifically said in your own words that you were going to do it, then you have to do it. I feel that this form of trust is a crucial factor in friendship. I've already lost some trust in some of my friends and I feel as disappointed as ever. 

Some good meals with good company.

What I do usually just happens out of the blue. Plans happen without much planning. Either my friends hit me up or I hit them up, and we just meet right then and there.

Today I was finally able to have full meals.

This morning my roommate made eggs, which I always appreciate, and received good news from one of my professors. For lunch my friend and I had lunch, who complained to me that his roommate is driving him insane and that he wanted to move. For dinner I went to a Chinese buffet with two friends. The food was actually decent.

May or may not have a date later today. Pray for good news.

And now arriving finals week.

Feeling especially lazy and unhealthy recently. Yesterday I ate pop tarts for breakfast, hot pockets for lunch, more pop tarts in the melancholy afternoon, went to the dining hall for some mac and cheese and salad, and ate an order of wings with my roommate around 1 a.m.

Meanwhile the past few days I've been studying for finals which is pretty frightening. There's not much when I initially think about it but as soon as I actually sit down at my desk and glance at the material with focus there's sort of a lot that's covered. Maybe because they're all cumulative.

Because my suitemates were playing Call of Duty while screaming their lungs out, I had to go to the library to study. I grabbed my bag, put on my wool coat and trekked my way through, thankful that the snow finally subsided. The wind brushed the remnant snow left on the rooftop of a house as it ghastly billowed in the air. Cars were slowly passing through the icy roads. A lampost nearby was buzzing. While a chilly thump of wind blew in my direction, I recalled a conversation:


"You guys don't give gifts to your friends?" Melon asked. "No secret santa or anything?"

She was as usual, stunning. Her hair was smooth as silk, dropping down to about her shoulders. Hiding just behind it were pearl earrings. Today she applied more makeup than usual. A subtle woody fragrance lingered whenever she made hand gestures. She was wearing a white sweater and tight denims.

"I guess not," I said. "Come to think of it I don't actually have close friends like that."

"What a sad life."

I thought about it for a while. "I guess you could say that I don't really have a best friend. I know some people here and there, and they know me. I fit in everywhere."

She twirled her coffee. "You really think so?"

"Sure."

She took her time to look at my face, then down to my clothes. "Well then what about me?"

I looked at my left hand, aware that it finally felt free without the brace. "Say, what do you want for Christmas?" I asked her.

"Your ugly face."

"Sorry, the ugly version is out of stock," I said. "We only have the handsome version here."

She looked down and smiled. A beautiful, cute, subtle smile. Her right eye hid under her hair.

"Then never mind," she said. "I'll just resort to chocolates then."

"Chocolates?"

"I dunno I'm really craving them at this moment. I could really go for something sweet. I guess I'm just that tired because of all those finals."

"What a dumb present."

"Excuse me? Chocolates are mouth-watering."

"Yeah sure. As a present. Why not something better like candy canes?"

"Nothing can really beat chocolate."

"Psh."

I took out a crackling new bar of Hershey's dark chocolate from my coat pocket and slid it across the table toward her.

"What? how?" she froze.

"I know you too well. Let's not see each other," I smiled. "Happy Holidays."

Friendship

There are many things that are bugging in my mind right now, wandering, looming, trapped, struggling to find an escape, like a butterfly in a cocoon. Of course one has to do with the fact that finals are coming up, but there is more than just that. In college, in addition to academics, friendship is just as important. Maintaining bonds and finding connections is key and without it, college won't be fun and as meaningful as it ought to be. It's important to be with the right ones. In my experience so far, as a 3rd year student, I've made friends by chance, if you will. Most of my friends are from taekwondo, and a few I've met through my other friends. Many of them are seniors, which means that they're all going to be graduating.

I've never really deliberately gone up to people and started to introduce myself. I guess I'm not that kind of person. But I've realized that I should start doing that because college is basically the only time in our lives to have this much fun where friends are just a walk away from each other. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll, as they call it. A time of fun, trial and tribulations, trying out new things, being independent, seeing life in a different view.

What keeps this going is friendship. And one of the factors that keep friendship going is trust. And if you break the trust, then it halts, breaks, snaps. Once you break, say, a plate, it can never really be fixed in its original form. The crack still exists, and its smooth, glazed texture is no longer. Today, that happened.

Don't tell me you're going to show up if you're not actually going to show up.

A few days ago my friend texted me that he will attend the final taekwondo class of the semester, specifically writing that he will show up. And, tonight, he didn't. No message, no apology, nothing.

What a joke.

Again, don't tell me you're going to show up if you're not actually going to freaking show up. It's something that irks me tremendously.

Anyways...


Now, switching gears, it's somewhat stressful talking to a person in their second language. No matter how you look at it, they're always most comfortable talking in their native tongue. When they speak in their native tongue, they can express their opinions with more fluency without much difficulty. Thus when you're speaking with them in their second language, it always seems artificial and not pure, no offense.

I've had a crush on a Korean international student, and her English isn't bad at all. But she seems to better understand and have more fun with my friend who is Korean as well.

I mentioned it in my previous post as well. It's as if there's two sides. Although there is that one side of the lid, I feel like I haven't been able to open it yet and see the other side of the lid.

Anyway, let's transition to the next topic. Exit this door and enter the next.


I'm the type of person who doesn't want to let go of things. Once it's in my possession, I can't release it. It's been an ongoing trait in me since childhood. I can't donate old toys and clothes so easily because I see in each of them a distinctness as if they're individuals with souls. I guess I'm with Andy on this one. 

Even in relationships, once I'm in one, I try to make it last for a long time. I don't give up. My feelings don't change so fast. 

It's hard to find someone who agrees. But it's college. Young relationships are spontaneous.

"Honestly are you expecting us to get married?" I recalled someone saying. 

What if...

I woke up from my vibrating cellphone on my desk. I yawned and stretched out my arms. I looked at the alarm clock and it read 10:12 am. This was no good sign. I rushed to my desk and picked up the phone.

"Sorry," I said. "Honestly I just woke up. I'm sorry."

"Ugh," she said. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I was supposed to meet my friend Melon at the campus center at ten. I set my alarm on but somehow it didn't ring. Melon would never believe me if I told that to her so I admittedly blew it right there.

"Say do you like cake?" I asked.

"Why."

"Hey this is totally my fault. I won't be late again."

She breathed a long sigh. It took her a good few seconds before she said anything.

"I'll be here. You owe me."

"Surely," I hung up.

I rushed to take a long piss, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and changed into the first pair of jeans and button-down shirt I could find. After applying a dash of cologne, I threw on my wool coat and ran outside. The weather was a windy one, around the low 30s. The shuttle bus to campus had just left. Bits and remnants of snow were piled on the ground. Patches of grey clouds floated in the sky, the sun not entirely visible. I sniffed the subtle scent of rain.

I made a quick stop at the campus deli and bought a slice of chocolate cake and a cup of coffee. I ran to where she was sitting. She chose a pretty secluded spot, sitting at the sofas in the lounge. The warm, cozy atmosphere made me want to stay in here for a good while.

"Here," I said, giving her the chocolate cake.

"What's this?"

"Thought it would make up for my lateness, kind of. I mean, I just wanted to give you something. I feel really terrible."

"No shit," she glanced at the cake. "I don't want this crap."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need this, take it back. That's not the point I'm trying to make. When you're late, you're late. You can't change that. Cake won't make up for it. Don't try to make things better. When things have been done, they're done. Nada. Move on. You learn your lesson and get on with it."

I adjusted the clip on my watch from sheer impulse. "I suppose so."

I took a sip of my coffee, maintaing my composure. Next to us was a happy couple laughing together at something on the guy's phone. I was literally at a loss for words for a split second. Somehow my mind stopped fully functioning and my sentences and thoughts jumbled and decreased in proficiency.

All the while I took a glance at her attire which was stylish as usual. Her skinny black jeans complemented perfectly with her blue flannel. Her pearl earrings added charm and her silver watch glimmered and added nuance to her overall look. Her make-up game was on-point, and her silky black hair was tied into a bun.

"You alright?" she asked.

"I'm good. I'm just pissed off at myself."

"Just don't make the same mistake again," she said. "You freaking lazy ass. You aren't usually like this. You're usually calm, cool, and collected. Prompt and badass. You could literally fly swiftly in the air with your crazy taekwondo aero kicks and you've got a sense of style. Just learn your lesson and continue to be the person you really are."

"What is this quasi-Oprah prose. But hey, thanks."

It was one of the most surreal times I've had. 

I finally introduced myself to a girl that I've been interested in at the second to last class of the semester. 

Bad news? 

She made another boyfriend just about a week after she broke up. 

Even worse? 

She is graduating in two days. 

But I am thankful for this moment, talking to her. Finally. 

Today I wanted to be fresh off to a good start as it's the beginning of the last month of the year. I went to the salon to get a haircut, took a quick shower, and wore my new coat. Suddenly I felt more alive. Somehow it made me feel happier. It's important to do what makes you happy.

"Uh-oh Christmas is coming soon, Sean," my friend said while we were having lunch.

I sat there, blank.

He rolled his eyes and finished chewing before speaking.

"Is there any girl you want to spend time with during Christmas?" he extended his arms, palms facing the ceiling.

"I'm aiming for one."

"Did you get her number and anything?"

"Not yet."

"Oh come on you got no balls."

Next weekend he was to head home to get his car and take the N-1 Japanese Proficiency Test, reportedly a difficult Japanese test that even native speakers couldn't ace. And how did he feel about it?

"I'm so screwed," he said. "I don't know why I wasted my money on that thing."

Meanwhile December rolled its way around. Back to that study grind.

Had a good Thanksgiving. Shopping, talking, all that good stuff with mom.

On the bus on the way back I slept the entire ride while listening to some Beatles. The sky grew darker as the hours passed by. Come evening and I would begin to dwindle. I would stare at the seat in front of me and think about my hopes and dreams.

Simply put, there's a specific girl I've been trying to meet these days. Sure it might not be the best time considering that finals are coming up but just meeting her and getting to know her shouldn't be such a hassle. She looks beautiful.

When I arrived on campus, I stretched, went to the bathroom, and bought a slice of pizza at the campus center. The monotonous murmur of chatter occupied the air as I scrolled through my phone. I took a swig of water and wolfed down the rest of my folded pizza.

One more day of classes and then I'm headed back for Thanksgiving.

The taekwondo demo team performed on Saturday night and it was a success. We did our thing and that was all we needed to do. Party at the suite afterwards. Endless rounds of Smash Brothers.

On Sunday my two good friends and I went for some Korean food downtown.

After several hours of discussion, I've realized that the world was really small.

Abnormal weather today, high up in the 60s. It caught me off guard for a second as soon as I stepped out of my room. Late November and I walked outside in a button-shirt, sweating.

The day was alright. I attended classes as usual. The campus seemed quieter.

What time is it?

....

1:30 a.m.

Protests are being held in the city streets after the officer who shot Michael Brown did not face any charges in the Ferguson case.

What else is happening at this hour?

Well, endless streams of thought are rushing in my mind right now. Nervous, confused, and eager to know about something. We're talking about relationships.

Is there hope for Seany? Will it be the start of something special?

I don't need to be that guy that girls swoon over, nor the guy who is the most popular in the school. I'm just doing my own thing at my own pace without having to try too hard. I dress depending on my mood  and also to express myself. I believe that good things are bound to come naturally if I stay true to who I am. That's just the best way and most important. Just do me, and be proud of it. Who cares about what others feel. It's what you do, and you're entitled to do what you want.

And that goes for every individual. Be yourself, because you are one of a kind and there's only one you. You're already unique so embrace it and live it up.

The bright side of life is always there, and it's ideal to look toward it.

The weather suddenly became colder. Nowadays it's around the freezing point or below. On cold days like these I just want to sip some hot chocolate and curl up with a good book at home.

I was scribbling some thoughts down on my notebook at the campus center. Day by day I noticed that I ran out of things to write about. Writer's block, eh. I guess this was how it felt like. My coffee was half full, steam rising and billowing up in the air. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my wool coat and leaned back, staring at the campus scene. Students were congregating and walking to wherever they were headed. There were some familiar faces but I didn't know them well enough to strike up a conversation. They were, as someone said, just "Hi-friends." But then again you reach a point where you ju---

"Sean?" a feminine voice came up from behind.

I looked behind and she paused to look at my face. Immediately I began to recognize that it was nobody other than Melon.

"Sup," I said.

She took off her grey puffer coat and hung it by the seat across from me. "Mind if I pop a squat here?"

"By all means."

Small bags were visible under her eyes. She had on a red and white striped patterned sweater. As usual she had on very little makeup, a subtleness only Melon could exude.

"Why are you here? It's rare to see you here at this hour all by yourself."

"I dunno, thought I could stand to change my daily habits."

"When's your next class?" she asked.

"In about an hour."

"I'm finished for the day. Have a lot of work to catch up on nonetheless."

I nodded.

Her eyes locked on to my notebook. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Not to sound rude of me, but no," I said. "Not that I'm hiding anything. It's just a personal notebook that I want to keep to myself for now."

She frowned, but seemed to understand a couple seconds later. "I get it I get it. Trying to be all private and mysterious, oooohhh."

"Maybe."

"Psh."

"Don't be upset about it," I said. "Be upset about the weather. It's a bitter one these days."

"Hell yeah. I don't want to go outside anymore."

I gestured if she wanted some coffee but she shook her head.

"I'm assuming you get tons of sleep," I said. "You are prompt how I see it."

"No way. I'm opposite in everything you've just said. I get little to no sleep from binge-watching dramas and my desk is a living mess."

"You don't seem like you are that kind of girl," I said.

"Well at the risk of sounding cheesy, looks can be deceiving."

I nodded, taking a sip of my coffee. I guess there was a whole another side to her that I didn't know.

"By the way how does my hair look?" she asked, brushing it with her fingers. "It looked horrible this morning."

"Why worry when it's always fine?" I said.

She laughed. "My hair game is on point then?"

"It's an art. Chiseled to perfection."

She burst into laughter. "Are you Michelangelo?"

"Yeah just find a way to send me back to the Renaissance."

She smiled, checking on her baby-blue painted fingernails.

"Looking forward to Thanksgiving?" she asked.

"Sure am. I don't know if it's just me but it's come to the point where I actually miss home so much. I always stumble upon pictures online and it always makes me want to go there at that second. I'm tired of studying. I just need a decent break, and Thanksgiving seems to come at a good time."

"I'm glad that we're in the same page," she said. "Except home for me is thousands of miles away."

"How much do you miss home?" I asked. She hasn't been in Korea since this summer.

"I'm fine," she said. "It's not really something I think about a lot. When I'm studying that's all I can really focus on, you know, unless I do nothing. If I do nothing I might think about it but on normal occasions I'm too busy."

"I get you," I said. "Doing other things to make yourself productive."

"Basically. But before break, you got a show to perform."

"Yup. I gotta admit I'm excited. Pumped is not even the word. I don't think I've ever performed for that many people. I've been a part of many demos, but not in front of a concert stage watched by hundreds. I'm going to perform at the same place where I watched Jake Shimabukuro's concert last year."

"The team is performing for what? 800 or so people?"

"Think so."

"Don't worry, I'll be there. On the dot. I'll cheer you on."

"Front row?"

"Don't know. Why?"

"If I stage dived will you catch me?" I asked.

"Questionable," she laughed.

"Thanks."

"Is the team all pumped up as well?"

"Of course. My roommate too. He gets most of the credit for organizing the demo and putting everything together. It's not an easy thing to do and he's done it well. Real well."

"You're a good man," she said. "I can't wait to see you guys up on that stage."

"It's going to be a great one. Just you wait."


I finished jotting my last sentence in my notebook and read it once again:

"It's going to be a great one. Just you wait."

I closed my notebook, realizing that she was never there in the seat across from me first place.

Weekends were dull here. With the lack of places to go it was all a matter of spending time with friends and company. Being underage I couldn't hit the bars. With my left hand in a brace I couldn't throw strikes and turkeys at the bowling alley. With these limited options, there was nothing much to do.

Christmas decorations were starting to fill the mall. The holiday season vibe slowly came to my realization. Candy canes, ornaments, and cards gave me a euphoric feeling.

The end of the semester was sort of approaching its way. I have to finish strong here.

This weekend the demonstration team is performing at an event called Asian Occasion, an annual show where asian frats, sororities, and clubs come together to perform a spectacular.

Every other day we practice and at this point we're pretty much ready and pumped to give out a great show. Looking forward to it.

Starting to miss home more and more.

circa summer 2014. 

There's something about today that just makes everything so dull and ugh. It makes me so mad.

Yeah, just "ugh."

That word perfectly describes the day so far.


The weather is terrible. Precipitation my ass.

I bumped into my friend who seemed to be pissed off because we kicked him off the demo team. I felt really terrible because he is one of my good friends. But it had to be done somehow. Showing up to practice is crucial and it's not fair for everyone else.

Then my other friends said they couldn't believe that I could have a conversation with anyone for an hour... What kind of bullshit is that. Am I that quiet? That literally threw me off. I feel like nobody could make me happy at the moment.

I don't know. Maybe i'm just not optimistic enough. Or maybe I'm just exhausted from partying two nights in a row. Today is just total shit.

The Man who Met Mikimoto

On August 8, 1945, Ron Glasberg had placed fourth in the half-hour morse code test out of the one-thousand soldiers in boot camp, allowing him to enroll in radio school. The next day America dropped the atomic bomb on Nagasaki, shutting down all schools including the radio school Glasberg hoped he had attended.

"I felt really disappointed," he said.

Glasberg is an 85-year-old veteran who served in the navy in the South Pacific for fifteen months. He enlisted on New Year's Day in 1945 when he was seventeen and a half. He operated submarines and destroyers, as well as a forty-foot boat. He served in Japan for eight months toward the end of the war, stationed at the Yokosuka base.

I was able to talk to him through the phone this morning and it was rewarding. One fact Glasberg mentioned that was interesting was that around that time, money was not as significant.

"Back then cigarettes were more valuable than money," he said. "That's how I met Mikimoto, the man who put a grain of sand in an oyster to form a pearl. It was a ten millimeter black pearl, a size of a bead. And Mikimoto told me that he wanted two cartons of cigarettes. I didn't have any so I couldn't get it. 35 years later, I flew from Boston to Seattle to Narita to Taipei. At Narita I went to Mikimoto Pearls, asked to talk to the manager, and asked him how much it would be now to buy the pearls. And of course cigarettes didn't suffice."

I went on to ask him about how he communicated with friends and family.

"Letters," he said. "There was also no postal charge so we kept sending them. There was no phone, of course.

It was the first time I directly talked to a veteran, especially a world war two veteran, and it was a great experience. This is the reason I study journalism. It's not only because I like writing, but it's also to interact with people, and that's something I feel like I need more in my life. In my earlier years I didn't really talk much and have as many friends. Studying a field that requires interacting and interviewing allows me to open up and challenge myself to get out of my comfort level. It's something I know I can do, and something I should do. And it's not half bad. It not only opens me up, but also opens up the interviewee, the subject. And it's great to hear a person sharing their inner feelings you can't quite get all the time. Life is meaningless if you don't push yourself to greater levels.

All I can say is that college is becoming more and more fun. The camaraderie, the excitement, the energy. Exploring new places, doing new things, exchanging ideas amongst friends, sharing laughs, living the moment.

Compared to last year-- my first year at the university-- I've been having a blast.


But there's a feeling I always get where there's just so many things thrown at you at once that you don't know where to start.

"Dreams die with age so act now or never," my friend said. "I want to do something big... I want to be those people who become billionaires in their twenties."

"There's so much to that," I said.

"Hell yeah," he said. "But if anyone has the idea to engineer or make something, I'm totally down to help them. There just needs to be an idea. Once there's an idea count me freaking in."

"An idea for what, anything?"

"Anything," he said.

I had just learned that he was going to transfer out of this school and head towards a college in the city next year to strive towards his medical degree. I was surprised at first, but couldn't do anything but wish him good luck.

"But that's what I seek in the future," he said. "I have a lot to look ahead for. I mean in the past my friend and I had this idea going on about cushions when you're on the airplane. But we realized it doesn't work at all, logically."

"Hey mind if I ask you something?"

"Shoot," he said.

"In your opinion, do you think ideas are born spontaneously in a light-bulb flashing fashion or only after careful thought?" I asked, exuding my inner-journalistic self. "Because people seem to go both ways."

"Well I'll be damned. For me it's both. Depends on what I'm thinking. Depends on the mood. Depends on where I am. I can't say. It changes. You know? What do you think?"

"Same here. Ideas are based on thought. Without careful thought, ideas can't be processed."

"Why are we being so philosophical here," he laughed.

On Being Quiet

Even before the start of elementary I was an odd child that kept his mouth zipped. Maybe it was because I only spoke Japanese in the house back then, or that I did not interact with many people. But during elementary I had a personal rule of thumb of speaking a lot when I was with my classmates but not when I was in front of teachers and adults. Perhaps I was nervous. Perhaps I didn't want them to hear how I spoke, reasons unknown. I was an oddball, I know, I admit. I went to the hospital for putting rocks in my ear and urinated in my underwear dozens of times during the day at school. Usually at this age children would understand the common sense of urinating in toilets but in my case it was not. My teacher would always take care of it and I could not thank her enough.

During the time I was an artist. I drew the Manhattan skyline everyday first thing in the morning when I got to school. The Twin Towers always came first, then the Empire State, the CityCorp, AT and T, and the G.E. building. In fact it even got featured in the school yearbook. Another time, I folded everyday a bunch of plain, white paper in half and stapled them together to make a booklet. I'd then write "books" about the most random, peculiar subjects that even I could not understand today. I remember one was about the children-based animal and wildlife magazine Ranger Rick, and another about the miniature Japanese wind-up toy cars called Choro-Q. Teachers would always question and double-take on my books. And I was really detailed. I remember one of them hysterically laughed at the wit I had when writing the barcode on the back and on top of it, the difference of price in the U.S. and Canada. While others were joyfully spending time with their classmates and playing with toys and puzzles, I was drawing the Manhattan skyline, writing strange books and barcodes. 

My interaction with individuals from childhood was infrequent. Throughout my dozen years of schooling, report cards from teachers put X marks on " needs participation" and comments of the word "quiet". It grew on me so much that I became sick of seeing those words over and over again. I tried to change but it wasn't that easy. It was a flaw that I needed to change, in slow steps. 

The word has become a supplement to me; a personal taboo word that I detest hearing for the life of me. I hear it every time, especially when meeting new people. Every time I hear it, I cannot do anything but admit the fact. They say it because they believe it's the truth, unless they were impulsive individuals who had no regard to people and their distinct qualities and personalities. However in my life I'm doing whatever I can to avoid being called quiet, and when I do get called quiet, it's as if I have failed a mission. When I hear the word it sends me back down to my personal history--from my elementary school days to the current--of quietness. Hearing the word is a signal to a regretful flashback of my quietness.

Even some of my friends used that word every now and then to describe me. This kid is quiet. Even now in college, people have told me that even if I was intimidating, I was still quiet or that they didn't know how my voice sounded because I don't talk or that they didn't know that I could talk when they first met me. They probably are exaggerated, but the tone and the sense of words just made it insulting, even if they didn't mean it.

Sometimes I would always comeback with: "If you think I'm quiet then you don't know me enough." or "So I'm the type of person who doesn't like to talk as much."

And it is true for those close friends I've met in my lifetime. I'm quiet initially, but once they get to know me more they see me as a garrulous and weird person. But sometimes life is not all about talking. It is, of course, since we need to communicate in order to live in this world, but those pauses and silences in between play a huge factor. Like a journalist who deliberately pauses to give time for the interviewee to answer a tough, personal or obscure question, we need silence in order to maintain a natural nuance in conversation.

Because most people see me as a calm person, I almost always got first dibs when I raised my hand during class. They wanted to see this person-who-didn't-talk talk and hear just what this kid had to say. Someone somewhere said that quiet people usually had the loudest minds, or the wisest words and I guess it is true. 

I was applying aloe moisturizer on my skin when the phone rang.

"It's me, hello there."

"How goes it?" I asked. 

"Say, you hungry at all?"

"Ate a granola bar and that's it. I'm pretty hungry."

"I made too much pulled pork," she said. "Come down to my suite for a bite?"

"I'd love to," I said, switching my phone to my other ear. "Fifteen minutes sound good?"

"Great. It's been lying here in my pot crock and none of my suite can finish it. I think you can devour it, no?" she laughed. "Of course those sour patches won't fill up everything."

I laughed. 

It was just past noon. Her place was about a ten minute bus ride away, just before approaching the town that was notoriously known as the "student ghetto." During the late nights it's impossible to catch the bus back because it's always filled with drunk students. At this hour it was empty. Swirling through the path out of campus, the bus would curve towards the avenue and go straight down. Along the way the bus would pass the bank, dentists, houses, Stewart's, an elementary school, and a few other eateries. I got off the bus, and walked towards her place: an ordinary two-story dwelling. She opened the door once I knocked, and welcomed me in the dining room. Melon was wearing sweatpants with her oversized Obey sweatshirt. 

A waft of pulled pork and fresh linen filled the room. Along with that there was the faint smell of someone's perfume. An Ariana Grande album was quietly playing through the Bose speakersystem placed on the coffee table. 

"Nice to see you show up," Melon said, placing before me a glass of water. "My roommate's in her room. She's pretty shy. The others are in class."

"Right," I couldn't think of anything more to say. 

She smiled. "Pulled pork will be right up."

"I'm glad," I said. "Thanks so much. I'm sure it's delicious as ever, no doubt about it."

She gave another smile, and walked back to the kitchen to get the pork ready. I took a sip of water and breathed a sigh. Behind me was the living room where there was a long L-shaped sofa and a coffee table in front. The entrance was adjacent, and by the side was a shoe rack stacked with a wide fashion of shoes from high heels to New Balance sneakers. A few steps over and there was a hallway with three other doors that led to Melon's suitemate's rooms. The footsteps from the neighbors above pounded, almost even shaking the room. It was something I'm sure was a nuisance for Melon and her suitemates. 

"So what are you up to today," she came with a plate full of pork. 

"Well I think I'm going to get screwed over for my journalism," I said.

"Why?"

"Well I'm supposed to interview a war veteran and report it," I said. "I visited a veteran house earlier but nobody answered the door. I called and left a message. Haven't gotten a call back. And this is due tomorrow."

"Gotta make use of time," she shook her head. "Didn't that happen to you before?"

"Yeah. Getting a hold of people isn't something you could pull off that easily. People are always busy, doing their own thing."

"Wonder why I got a hold of you in an instant," she giggled. "You must have nothing to do you lazy boy you."

"Hey, I'm a busy student here," I said. "By the way this pork looks amazing."

"Oh it's nothing. Girls gotta cook. Can't take-out so much anymore."

I took a bite of the pork and another. It was delicious.

"So I heard you were performing some kind of taekwondo thing sometime this month?" she asked.

"You heard right," I said, taking a sip of water to wash down the pork. "Some solid practice and we should be good to go."

"So you're like the captain?"

"Co-captain," I corrected her. "My roommate is also captain. He usually does all the leading and handles the paperwork. I give him suggestions if things could be added. Basically I got his back."

She nodded, taking a sip of her water. "Looking forward to it."

"Please do. We're going to woo the audience and shut down the stage."

"Okay, yeah sure."


I left about an hour later and it was lightly raining. I zipped up my jacket and held the umbrella Melon lent me. Slowly I walked towards the bus stop, avoiding puddles.

The start of the first week of November

My teammates were there in full uniform, as well as my black belt friends and rivals as I was there in adidas sweatpants and a training fleece with a brace around my left hand, wandering around watching every division's poomsae (forms) and sparring matches. Our team fought well, and each of us learned some new things for the long run at the Cornell taekwondo tournament, Sunday. A long-haul car ride in the early morning and in the evening on the way back. Universities from all over the northeastern region came to compete to aim for the top of the division. It was the first time I was at a tournament and didn't compete, which, felt both awkward and frustrating. My teammates from the all-star team expressed their brief sympathy to me.

Our team didn't come home with any medals but there were some great matches. The matches we didn't win were all worth the experience. Sure, losing sucks, but what mattered was the effort the person put in as well as the mistakes we learn from. That's how we got better.

The next day everything resumed to the daily grind. I got up, had some breakfast at the dining hall, studied at the library for a test the next day, and went to class. Monotonous note taking and reading. The usual college student's ritualistic procedure during weekdays, devoid of elation. I'd walk outside campus and see regular students walking their way to class. I'd walk into my next class and sit down in my regular assigned seat, take out my regular pencil, textbook, and notebooks, stare at the regular outside view of campus, and glance at the attractive classmate two rows down. She wasn't a beauty, but exuded an aura and charm that was good enough for my tastes. Seeing that she always came just before class started, and left right after class finished, there was simply no time for me to strike up a small conversation with her. So what were the chances? Very slim, as slim as Virginia Slims, if that made any sense.

After class I'd have lunch with two other people. One, as I mentioned already before in my previous post, was a smoker and the other was a writer. The smoker was a smoker. When he was studying abroad in Japan about a year ago he used to smoke two packs a day. Now he recently cut it down to less than a pack. The latter, the writer, was an international student from Korea, who was also my roommate last year. Now these's two were roommates.

After class I went to the library with a friend. We had a discussion about the recent alteration of the role of the Japanese military. The prime minister allowed the military to serve as allies with countries including the U.S. whenever they needed aid. Japanese citizens were not in agreement with the idea, my friend said, and didn't know if it would positively boost public morale.

After he left for a rendezvous with friends, I flipped through the pages of my textbook and notes to grasp the material for a test. Nothing was exceptionally appealing. Over the course of three hours, I stretched out my legs and arms ten times, gazed into the wall in front of me for an estimate cumulative time of five minutes and twenty-three seconds, yawned sixteen times, downed three glasses of water, and went to the bathroom twice. Around ten in the evening I headed back to the dining hall to satiate my semi-hunger. A plate of white rice, ground beef, chicken, and potatoes. On the side I made myself a salad. Coke on the rocks as the beverage. To stay.

Undifferentiated student chatter and laughter played as the background ambiance as I devoured the rice, which, was good enough to eat. There were no other options as the other dining halls were closed. What else was there? Nothing. I had to resort to eating it.

On my way back the weather became chillier. The day felt shorter, as daylight savings time just recently ended. Humming along 'Till There Was You, I came back to the dorm. All my suitemates were already there, as usual.

I ripped open a bag of gummy bears and read a paperback. During academia season slating a time for casual reading was difficult. Even if I did have time, it was hard to focus on the story since I was inevitably focused on schoolwork and tests and all that jazz. But sometimes, I needed it on order to wind down and get my stressed out mind somewhere else, traveling with reverie amidst characters and antagonists and scenes contrary to the ones I saw now. Meanwhile my suitemates were watching episodes of Yuyu Hakusho in the living room, as usual.

The Student Communique

The more you look at international students, the more you gain a sense of loneliness because they all eventually have to return to their hometown and you wouldn't be able to see them as often. They land here for a good college education for however long it takes, then eventually fly back home miles and miles away.

What's more, when you're speaking with international students, even bilinguals and trilinguals, they essentially have two sides to them. One side is their native mind where they could express their thoughts exactly how they want, whilst their other side, their second language, is another story, where they aren't able to express as freely as their first language. Even if they are perfectly fluent in all the languages they know, it still affects how they think and express their thoughts. So if you speak with someone in their second language, you still wouldn't be able to know the other side to them: their native side. Their lifestyle, their personality, and the way they interact and express their ideas may be startlingly different, and unless you become fluent in their language, you are totally clueless about that side. Thus it brings us to see that your best international friend may still, and forever be, a stranger to you.

Melon shook her orange juice, twisted it open and took a huge swig. Melon was her real name, and surely it was an unusual name. Her parents thought it was a good name for her after they noticed her soft, plump cheeks when she was a child. A native Korean, she had smooth, jet black hair with a few brown dye marks and flawless skin. Pearl earrings were attached by her earlobes and her woody fragrance rushed towards me whenever she brushed her hair and made theatrical hand gestures whenever she talked. 

We had first met here, at the campus center, after she saw me munching through a sandwich while casually thumbing through a Truman Capote paperback. Her first words to me was what book I was reading and once I told her the author she became fascinated and in sheer reflex plopped down on the seat across from me to discuss it. She had read the book countless times, and she told me her life story, her fascination with books since childhood, how she read newspapers when she was still wearing a diaper soiled with piss, and how her parents named her Melon. Of course because of her name she was bullied a lot during her secondary education years in Korea, where she almost even got part of her ear chopped off by a classmate and some elder bullies (because in Korea age played a huge role.)  Everyday she'd get something stolen from a pencil to her electronic dictionary and would come home crying to her parents begging them to change her name. But they couldn't do it, and she eventually had to transfer schools. Life was better after Melon had transferred, and she more and more became interested in traveling to the U.S. around the time she was a senior in high school. She wanted to see what it was like to travel and study somewhere else. She aimed for a fresh start, a place devoid of bullies in her circle. And of course she upheld her pride and erased all of her terrible memories.

She prevailed, and became an exchange student. The communications major would meet up with me on occasions to have some coffee and chat until the evening. She was fluent in English, without a trace of an accent. Melon always grinned and giggled and never seemed to see life from a negative viewpoint.

She reached in her burgundy Longchamp, pulled out a bag of candy, and threw it on the table in front of me. Before me eyes were a bag of Sour Patches.

"Happy Halloween," she giggled.

"Well, hey, thanks!" I opened the bag. "Trick or treat."

"I thought about it hard, but bought it anyway on my way back from the market," she said. "For Halloween's sake, I felt like I needed to show some spirit."

"Good idea. Since none of us are in costume, unfortunately."

She nodded. "Going to any parties?"

"Can't say I am," I said. "But who knows, someone always invites me something last minute. Are you up to anything?"

"My friends and I are going to eat at a pretty nice seafood place. After that I think we're just going to hang out at the mall."

She clasped her hands together. Her teal fingernails glimmered from the light. While staring at them, for the strangest reason, I thought about where she was going after she graduated; when she would return home, and get jumbled in with the crowd miles away in a whole different society with distinct customs and personalities. A world that seemed so separate. Where will Melon be? Will she ever return? Those fingernails with teal, amidst a crowd of people, unnoticeable, almost becoming vanished. To me, she always belonged here, on campus, and it seemed artificial imagining her casually walking in the streets of Busan, her hometown, and casually talking with her friends in her native tongue.

"Sean?"

"Yeah, sorry. Totally caught off guard there for a sec."

"Aw poor little baby," she laughed. "Does somebody need some milk to wake up?"

"Call it quits. I'm a grown man."

"Are you really now?"

"Plus these sour patches fuel me up well enough."

"All that sugar."

Melon drank the rest of her orange juice, tied her hair into a ponytail, and got up from her seat. Swiftly, she slung her Longchamp on her shoulder and glanced at her watch.

"I have class soon, mister," she said.

"I'll escort you there."

Whereupon we headed outside. The campus was full of students making their way in and out of classes. It was the transition time, where most classes ended and students shuffled their way to their next one. I dug my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, taking in the occasional chilly breeze.

We strolled through the path of fallen, dried up leaves and up the stairs to the main halls. This was the point I set her free.

"Thanks for the escort," she said. "I feel special."

"I'm glad. Bodyguard, security guard, lifeguard, you name it. I'll be there."

She blushed. "Well I'll see you."

She turned away and just when she was about to head inside, I hollered her name.

"Yes?"

I thought about my words. "This may be out of the blue, and it just keeps floating in my mind so I need to get it out."

"What is it, Sean?"

"Are you planning to go back to Korea once you graduate?"

"Most likely, yeah. But who knows? If I land I job here then I'm here. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. It's just flew in. I don't really have an exact explanation, really."

She looked into my eyes for a couple of seconds, then looked at the ground as if seeing her reflection on a pond.

"Let's not look to far ahead," she smiled. 

I wore a checkered shirt with a basic red hoodie over it and a pair of denims and headed out to my classes. As usual they were normal and nothing outstanding happened. Hour-by-hour time ticked. Students were coming in and out of classes. Some were congregating while having a smoke and a few were just sitting on the benches, taking in the campus scene. With the brace around my left hand it sometimes threw off my balance overall, but slowly I've been getting used to wearing it. I couldn't dig my hand in my pocket, I couldn't type as fast, and I had to take the brace off in order to use hand sanitizer before eating. I've always been conscious of it whenever I needed to use my left hand, which, I was still trying to adapt to. Every now and then I would realize that I couldn't spar or compete for another two months or so and that got me down. Without me there wouldn't be a full team for tournaments. Not attending sparring classes also felt weird.

After classes I headed to the dining hall alone for dinner and ate two rounds of meatloaf and smashed potatoes. On the side I had a bowl of tossed salad drenched in olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette. For dessert some sweet honeydew. While refilling my Coke I met a friend of mine with his girlfriend. Joining them only made me the third wheeler, which I knew wasn't ideal. They drifted off in their own romantic corner and sat down while having their own intimate conversation.

I walked back to the dorm listening to Tony Bennett and it gave off a melancholy vibe in my mind. It got me reflecting and having endless thoughts. One of the lampposts buzzed like a cicada. Cars drove their way around the roundabout, and the crickets cried in the woods. I cut my way across the empty parking lot and came back to the dorm.

Went to the orthopedist this morning. I had to wake up my suitemate or else he would've totally forgotten about it. 

It was a ten minute, rainy drive from campus. 

As soon as I walked in there were patients limping their way through the hall. Some had missing limbs, and some were on crutches. 

During my appointment I was given a brace to protect my hand. I was told to not practice taekwondo for at least 8 weeks. It was the first time I felt shocked and it was at that point where I kind of empathized with athletes on the D.L. You really wanted to continue but you couldn't. Everywhere else in your body was in good condition except that one area. It's frustrating. 

Eventually my suitemate had a class so he had to head back. Eventually I had to resort to take the taxi. There went my 18$. 

Criminology is a bitter annoyance. At first it was my minor, but now that I've changed it, the class doesn't count for anything at all. One assignment asked for a criminal justice observation. Police ride-alongs was my best bet so I called up a few departments not really expecting any good results. 

All declined, saying that they couldn't schedule one in the time I requested. 

"You're just going to have to commit a crime," one officer said on the phone. "Then you'd be in a squad car with handcuffs."

This is due Tuesday. At this point, with very limited time, I ought to interview an officer. 

After class I hung out with friends at the mall. One of them shopped for some clothes, and the other shopped for some snacks for his girlfriend. Meanwhile I bought some toothpaste. 

Not being able to use my left hand is better than not being able to use my right, as I am a righty. Though of course there are some things that do become a nuisance when you can't use both hands such as typing, cutting food, washing my hands, and putting and taking off clothes. I'm allowed to take the brace off when I shower, but that's about it. 

The rain continued to fall. I had lost my umbrella and recently found out that I fractured my hand. At the dining hall we were having a nice cup of jasmine tea.

"Hope it gets better," she said.

"Put me on the DL."

"Shouldn't be that bad. I mean, at least it's your left hand."

"Very true," I said.

The rain and cloudy weather made everything seem so depressing and gloomy. Wet, dark, and cold. The worst possible combination all put together.

"How's your psychology going," I asked.

"Meh it's alright. Didn't ace the test but didn't fail."

"Subpar."

"Mediocre."

"What are we thesauruses?"

She laughed. "Speaking of which what are you up to in your writing?"

"Well I'm supposedly part of an investigative reporting team."

"Ooh for what?"

"I have to investigate this supposed Chinese cult and excavate some information about it."

"Hmm," she said. "A Chinese cult?"

"It may or may not be a cult," I took a sip of my tea. "We're still in the process of figuring out just what this organization is all about."

"Sounds fun but so time consuming."

"That's what reporting is all about," I said. "Gotta make relations and get to know people."

Her elbows were propped on the table and her palms were resting on her chin. She was staring at my every move.

"I contacted some experts regarding transportation on campus the other day for another report," I added. "Ended up attaining loads of info I never knew before."

"Like what?"

"Not telling."

"Ugh, you're such a pain. Why not?"

"What's the magic word?"

"Oh for god sakes, I feel like I'm talking to a five year old."

"Anyway."

"Anyway what? Are you going to tell me?"

"It'll be up in the school newspaper. Don't worry."

"Ugh, fine, whatever," she got up to get herself some fruits.

When she came back, she devoured her cantaloupes.

"But hey, reporting is actually a pretty fun experience," I said. "You don't know about a certain place until you parachute in and find out some information about it. You gotta be there to fully see the beauty, the aesthetics. Reportage is all about first-hand experiences."

She nodded. "Totally different from psychology. All I learn about is the science of the mind, to put it mildly."

"How I see it, as long as you put some effort into it, what you study will always be worth your time," I said.

"Even if they are so obscure?"

"Yeah. I mean alright it may not be of use to you at all, but it keeps you mind jogging and who knows? That information may be useful to you in the long run. You never can really tell. Life is full of unexpected happenings."

"I get it I get it."

"Wanna catch a movie?" I said.

"I'd love to but I have work to catch up on."

"Take a breather and kick back with a movie. I got you covered."

She thought about it. "What movie?"

"Don't know. You like horror?"

"5 seconds in and I'd be out of the theater."

"Even if I'm next to you?"

"Oh how are you going to protect me with just one hand?" she laughed.

"Hey, it's a minor injury."

She laughed, placing her hand on top of my right hand.

Fractured bone under pinky.. Found out after I went to the health center today for X-rays. Currently have athletic tape wrapped around my left hand. Typing is such a nuisance.

Fractured it at the MIT taekwondo tournament. Never realized I got it fractured until the end of the match.

Visiting the orthopedist on Friday. Hopefully I will recover in no time.

A continuation of rainy days are bound to occur. Feels like England.

My left hand is swollen from the taekwondo tournament Sunday. Slightly hurts when I type on the keyboard.

Went to my usual classes on a chilly day.

On the way back was a terrible adventure. A ten minute walk from the library to the dorm in the pouring rain. With no umbrella, which, I cannot seem to locate. All I had on was my blue raincoat and my decent clothes and shoes.

Damn rain.

Tomorrow I have to do some investigation for a journalism article. Fun stuff. Hopefully all will go smoothly, efficiently, and effectively.

Wings on a Whim

Say, hey, how's tricks? Welcome back to the town's one and only hit music radio station! Today we have a lucky guest with us today and he is standing by right now. Hey, how are you doing today?

"Sleepy," I said.

Indeed it's pretty early in the morning, eh? Let's see uhh...

3:24 a.m.

Ah of course nobody as young as 15 or as old as 80 would be up am I right? Only you, uhh... are you a student?

"You got it."

"College student?"

"Uh-huh."

"Say can we get your name?"

"Stu."

"Last name?"

"Dent."

"Stu Dent.. wait a.... HA..HA.. HA...  we got a comedian in the house! Say you must be the class clown. Are ya?"

"No."

"Have you done something similar?"

"What do you mean."

"Can ya make people laugh easily?"

"I try."

"Can you als--"

"Hunh?"

ACHOO!

"Bless you," I said.

"Thank ya! Anyway uh, so you try hunh?"

"Well now that you've mentioned it I've done some slapstick."

"Ahhhhh yes, slapstick? Have you? Must be painful."

"I find ways to avoid injuring myself."

"Can we get some more details?"

"Hunh?"

"When did you do slapstick?"

"..."

"Helloooo there?"

"I do it a lot to toddlers and children because it makes them laugh."

"So you're essentially saying that getting hurt is funny to kids."

"Based on my observations, yes."

"Hen you yisu!"

"How's that again?"

"Never mind. It's uhh, muy interesante."

I had nothing to say.

"Anyhoo, so you're in college?" he asked.

"Yes."

Ahh, college. You get to spend some of the best days of your life in college. Can't live it twice. Can only live it once, unless you force yourself into some community college somewhere when you're 40 but who'd be stupid enough to do that? Ha.. ha.. ha. Besides, it's nice to be young. Anyway, it's great to have you here thanks for stopping by and giving your time to be here it sure means a lot to us.

"Yeah, sure."

Aaaannnd lets see here we have our guest here today in the hushed a.m. hours such a rarity ain't it, Betsy? Oh what was that? Right, they'd usually hang up on us no less than a snap of a finger, ha... ha... ha. So uhh, let's just begin and ask our college student some questions we've got so uhh let's begin. So let's start with the basics. What are you studying?

"English."

Woah... now that's a rarity.

"Not really.."

So what do you want to be when you grow up then a teacher? Or some librarian?

"Haven't really thought of those."

Well so why'd ya pick such a major?

"I like to write and read."

Well ya hear that folks? he likes to read and write. expect this kid to write a novel or something ha... ha... ha we will never know. gots a long way to go, eh? where's that novel?

"Might be right up your alley."

"Ha.... ha.... ha... anyway lets switch gears."

"What's something you've been seeing a lot in campus that you're kind of jealous or feeling envious about ehh? Could be anything just something off the top of your head. Give it a thought, eh."


I thought about this real hard, and it was hard especially because it was late in the night and the only incentive for me to actually pick up a phone was to see whether it was some girl I exchanged numbers with. Instead I got sucked into a late-night radio show. I would've hung up minutes ago but I stayed on the line just for the hell of it. It was a Saturday night going into an early Sunday morning. I had just finished studying and reading so nothing special was on my agenda but sleep.

"Couples," I said.

"Couples was it?"

"Yes."

"Well what about them eh?"

"I'm all fine and cool about it, and I'm sure every single person feels the same way, but I guess I get kind of jealous when I see them. How they seem so happy together. It's cute but at the same time it makes me feel a bit lonely."

"Ahhhh love is in the air."

"Looming somewhere beyond my vision."

"What a poet. Ha...ha... ha.  Love is all over the place. Just gotta breathe the right air eh. You can't inhale, say, carbon monoxide or asbestos ha.... ha.... ha, am I right because that stuff will just ugh. Ka-bloosh and you're dead. Instead you gotta inhale the pleasing aroma of hmmm how about strawberries or fresh baked cookies or some fresh linen ehh? How do you feel when you pull things out of the laundry and boom that smell of fresh clean clothes and linen hmmm it's great. Oh, such greatness."

"I guess," I was beginning to feel annoyed.

"And out of the uh.... how many students are there in your university?"

"Roughly 16,000."

"Well holy shmokes. Out of the 16,000 students in ya school ya can't find even one person ya like to get to know?"

"There were a few, but turns out they were already taken. So I guess you could put it that way. I'm just doing my own things at my own pace."

"Well ya gotta speed up the process. Ya gotta go up first. Don't wait ehhh.. Or else ya just gonna end up delayin' your chances. Plus it's college and it's greatest time for fun. Don't make yourself regret things. Live it up in college. Because who cares? What is there to lose?"

"Sure."

He had a point, but I was too sluggish to reply. I began to wonder how many people actually listened to this minor radio station.

"Not so much of a talker are ya?"

"I say things when I need to say them."

"Woah... you go kid. Anyhoo lets see here so youre an english major and single. How are ya classes?"

"Fine. Midterms week so it's kind of a nuisance."

"You'll do well it's all a matter of time management ehh."

I nodded, but seeing how that didn't register through phone, I replied with a flat "yes".

"Well I guess that's all we have for you today. Thanks for tuning in with us today... errr I mean tonight! er... uhh, the early morning!"

"Yeah sure. Four more seconds and I'd pass out so you got me at a good time."

"HA... ha.. ha alright dude. Thanks for tuning in. You have helped our listeners believe that they aren't the only ones up! That even college students like you are still up going about their own lives. Gives them a little motivation, no?"

"Mhm."


I hung up the phone, redialed a number. It was the girl I happened to exchange numbers with earlier. I had met her at the library. She was thumbing through a Japanese textbook right next to me. She seemed to be struggling to decipher the material so I thought it would be nice for me to help, if possible. She was wearing a white oversized Obey hoodie, tight navy denims, and a pair of red New Balance shoes. Her hair was straight and black, bangs pinned up. Little to no makeup.

Surely it wasn't the best time to call her at this hour but I gave it a shot. Perhaps she was a night owl. And besides, I couldn't believe I was citing from that darn radio host but, what's there to lose?

It took five rings for her to miraculously pick up.

"Hello..?"

"It's me," I said. "So you are a night owl."

"Not really. I've just been studying for my psychology test. What gives?"

"I'm sorry. Caught you at a bad time. Let me hang up, I'll talk to--"

"No, it's totally fine, I'm kidding," she giggled. "My test isn't until Tuesday and I needed a break anyway."

"Sure bout it?"

"Yeap." There was a brief lull. "So what makes you call me at a time like this? Nightmare or something? Did you dream about me?"

"Close," I said.

"Oh really?"

"No."

"Psh."

I laughed. "I don't know. I just felt like calling you. On a whim, like taking a sip of hot tea that's on your desk. You don't drink it because you're thirsty. You just take a sip out of it because you feel like it."

"Seems understandable."

I paused. "But I guess I wanted to also hear your voice. The sense of actually talking to you. It's soothing. Gives out a satisfying aura. I can't explain it."

"Aw, well that just made my night."

From the other side of the line I heard her shutting the textbook and shoving all her handouts and notes aside.

"Are you sleepy?" I asked.

"Had a lot of coffee so I'm actually still feeling alive and kicking."

"Good. Same here, minus the coffee and the feeling alive and kicking part."

She laughed. A beautiful little laugh. "Then we aren't in the same page, dummy. Why don't you go to sleep."

"I'm just in the mood for some wings. I don't know why, I'm really craving them."

"Sadly I think they just closed."

I lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I held the conversation in silence for a good few seconds.

"You there?" she said.

"Yeah."

"Is somebody getting sleepy?"

"Tell me a bedtime story."

She laughed. I sensed her brushing her hair aside from her face. "Once upon a time a guy called a girl during the middle of the night, telling her he was craving wings. The end."

I laughed. "What a weirdo that guy."

"Right?"

Crickets cried outside but that was all the sound there was. The room itself was devoid of any tone. There wasn't even a clock to produce the ticking from the secondhand. My roommate was long-gone, tucked in cozily in his sheets. It was approaching 4. Under the dim light, I began to notice my body slowly powering down, preparing itself for a good sleep.

"Hey, before I pass out, and now that I've got you on the line, can I ask?"

"Fire away, mister."

"You wouldn't mind getting some wings with me tomorrow would you?"

She giggled. "You would choose wings. But sure, I'd love to. I'm free all afternoon."

"That's wonderful. Let's devour those wings."

"Why wings again?"

"I don't know. I thought I could stand to change my habits of eating at the dining hall."

"Fair enough. So I guess you could finish off the bedtime story."

"Finish it for me."

"Once upon a time a guy called a girl during the middle of the night, telling her he was craving wings. He invited her to eat wings with him for the next day. She was delighted, and was looking forward to their little upcoming rendezvous. Both were happy. And then they were finally able to sleep through the night. The end."

And before I knew it, I went into a deep sleep. And, before I knew it, I was going to eat wings with a girl.

Analysis/moral of the story: Don't ignore or be prejudiced towards people. They might give you some good advice or ideas that may be of use to you in the long run.

One of my friends declared that he quit smoking after his parents told him to stop. He threw out the packs he had. Usually he smoked a pack a day.

His friend he usually smoked with together seemed shocked and nonplussed.

"You must have some desire to smoke again."

"I don't," he said. "I had two midterms today and I don't feel like smoking to be honest."

"Congrats."


For me the day was really uneventful. A gloomy sadness, for no reason, loomed. But I have to look forward or else I wouldn't enjoy it.

The Shrine and the Temple and Meditating in Autumn

Went on an expedition about thirty minutes away from campus to a Catholic shrine and a Buddhist temple. One of my classmates drove me along with two others. It was a one-door hot rod (not literally but it was actually a pretty nice model. Tell me that it was used in one of the Fast movies and I'd believe it.) Because it was a one-door car, I had to get in the back seat which reminded me of my childhood when I went on the back of my friend's Porsche. While hearing the engine roaring, there was limited window view and the space was tight. She blasted out rap and rave songs while opening both windows. As far as car handling, there were some jerky moments. They got me worried for a few seconds but we made it safely.

The shrine was located in the foothills of nowhere. Gold, orange, and yellow leaves, and the fresh hills and plains colored the scenery. It was just like a scene from the Sound of Music. A beautiful landscape. Easily the spot for a romantic get-away. Fall never appeared so colorful and pleasing. It was surely the greater beauties of the season.

"Now I'm not the best tour guide," the professor said. It was his first time here as well.

We roamed around the shrine. It was in need of major construction. Reportedly they had faced a financial crisis that could possibly close the doors. Nobody else but a senior couple was there. A Father came up to us eventually and toured the class. The shrine was considered to be one of the most "Holy sites in the world."

Our next stop was the Buddhist temple. It seemed like a village at first. Getting there was a hassle, even though it was adjacent from the shrine. There was a huge wall that barricaded the area so we had to go around, through the woods. The place was muddy so all of our shoes got dirty. We discovered that the Catholic shrine and the temple were not in good relations with each other. One of the Fathers had invaded the temple property and destroyed their 100-year-old road with a tractor backhoe two months ago. There was racial discrimination. The church Fathers had put up road signs writing "No Dogs," a reference other than the animal itself. They had blocked mail delivery, roads, and completely isolated the Buddhist monks. Some even started to suffer from psychological health problems. As of now they were working on receiving humanitarian aid and instilling peaceful negotiations. This act merely ruined the reputation of Catholicism.

This proved that there was still racism in America, and it still loomed in society somewhere. Hatred.

I happened to chat with a few Buddhist monks, one of which was a 29-year-old documentary filmmaker. He was wearing a hoodie and sweat pants. Slung on his shoulder was a professional video camera.

"How old do I look?" he asked.

I took a guess and went for 22.

He laughed and told me his real age. "I look young because I engage in meditation."

"Meditation?"

"Yes," he said. "Meditation allows you to see the world differently. You'll begin to realize things you haven't realized before. So I encourage you to meditate."

In retrospect, that actually did make sense. Every time I meditated before taekwondo, I felt more alive, erasing all my current thoughts and entering in a state that was both blank and empty.

He was a fan of Japan. He visited all-around, more than I have.

It was odd taking out my phone in a place that seemed completely isolated from reality. If it weren't for the cars and the phones, I felt like I entered a veil transporting me back in time to a primitive setting.

All of the people who were at the temple asked me if I was Chinese. And, awkwardly, I'd correct them. But along with another student who was an international student from China, I engaged in a decent conversation with all of the Buddhist monks. The rest of the class already were walking back to their cars. Eventually the professor ran back as well, and so it was only me and her after we left the temple. In a beautiful scenery. I felt like an actor in a movie. Maybe a story about two college students going on an adventure and randomly stumbling upon landscapes after landscapes.

She was a regular, prompt, low-key student. We were walking back to the car. She was one of the students that was in the same car as me.

"Do you think we have to write an article about this?" she asked.

"Well let's hope not," I said, avoiding tree branches.

She asked me if I knew a certain girl.

"I know her," I said. "She's in my other writing class."

"She talks about you a lot," she said. "How you were such a great writer."

Odd, I thought. I didn't recall ever showing her any of my works. But hey, thanks.

"This is such a beautiful place," she said.

"Can't agree with you more. Amazing how it's just a few miles away from campus. It's like time traveling to another realm. A beautiful, realm that is."


We eventually made it through the woods and back to the car. The professor came up to us.

"We were afraid that you joined the Buddhist monks," he laughed.

Perhaps everyone misunderstood us. A boy and a girl. Alone. In a beautiful scenery.

Midterm estimated arrival time: tomorrow.

Well... technically six minutes until the day is over.

What time is it..

Mhm...


Wow this actually reminds me of those GBA Pokemon games in the beginning.

So you're in the dark and all you see is dialogue and you keep pressing 'A' and hear that
BLEEP every time you press the button.

And then after all that dialogue Professor Oak somehow shows up welcoming you to the Pokemon universe.

Ah, childhood.


Today I had to get up early in the morning to go to the dentist to get my cavity fixed. Then I went to my classes, as per usual. I'd walk in, take notes, participate every now and then, walk out, and have lunch with two friends. One was an avid smoker and the other was a writer. They were roommates. It was a routine process and nothing special happened. Conversations ranged from women to music to the English language.

After our meal they'd go back to their dorm off-campus, and I'd drift along to the library. Wednesdays was always my rest day. It was the middle of the week so it was a good place for a break. My first class didn't start until the afternoon and in the evening I had no taekwondo class. It was a good time to just kick back and settle the thoughts that were in my mind.

Today I retreated to the library to study for a midterm largely based on war reporting. The material was not boring but not that intriguing. Mediocre when it came to content.

The entire suite had a midterm tomorrow for some class. Chinese, Japanese, the list went on.

(Rage)

There were bells

On a hill

But I never heard them ringing

No I never heard them at all

'Till there was you

There were birds

In the sky

But I never saw them winging

No I never saw them at all

'Till there was you

Then there was music

And wonderful roses

They tell me

In sweet fragrant meadows

Of dawn and dew

There was love 

All around

But I never heard it singing

No I never heard it at all

'Till there was you

Based on how people view my writing, it seems like I write in a form of a puzzle. My writing contains random references that readers would need to read again in order to understand fully. I guess that's just how my mind works. While writing I'd have some idea that I could link with what I'm writing about and usually that idea is random, like, say, a line from a movie.

Anyway, a little update on what I've been up to for the weekend.

Saw Annabelle at the mall with some friends. There were some scary parts here and there but overall when we exited the theater we all admitted that it was a pretty unsatisfactory movie.

On Saturday around noon I went to taekwondo with my roommate who taught the class, which consisted of about five, all girls. One complained that she had shin splints and a cold, and another wanted sunny-side up eggs. The first hour we jogged around the newly constructed outdoor track, something I haven't done yet. Briefly it reminded me of junior year in high school when I did winter track indoors. All I could vividly recall was that the coach was strict and it was cold. Once we had to run across the G.W. Bridge back and forth.

It felt good running in the university track field. I never felt so alive when I sprinted. I needed the workout anyway.

In the evening the suite went to Friday's for Endless Appetizers-- that is, where the restaurant offers customers endless appetizers on their menu for only 10$.

Unusual how they had gyoza as one of their appetizers. Americans called them potstickers. Chinese called them dumplings, and Japanese called them gyoza. I was used to eating these gyoza with ramen so my taste buds at one point seemed to get confused when I ate them with chicken.

Came back at the dorm and read. Another day passed.

Back to that Monday vibe. The weather was a chilly one but overall acceptable. 55 degrees, about. This was the perfect hoodie weather. If only it was like this throughout the entire school year. 

As usual I took the shuttle to campus and ate at the nearest dining hall. Rice with some strange tomato sauce. And a bowl of cantaloupes. 

I attended my two classes. In the hallway I stumbled upon the girl I had liked. A couple weeks back I found out she had a boyfriend so I had to give up all my hopes. But we met eyes for point one second. She walked past me with the subtlest smile, seeming to appreciate my presence. But what the hell was I expecting. 

Right then I thought of a good idea for a novel, or some light novel-- An introverted male and female college student don't realize that they like each other because they are both too shy to talk to each other. Eventually the girl finds another man somewhere and the boy never finds out until he sees them walking together holding hands. The boy lights a cigarette and stares at the crescent moon. The moral of the story? Act quickly. 

My friend and I was waiting for another friend to finish a test. Out the door came her as we met eyes once again. She averted her glance and walked towards the exit, slowly, as if lost. As if she was discovering something. Or thinking about something. But what? Probably her test and how she did:

Hey I think I did pretty well but ugh I screwed up on the last part. Time just got me I feel like I was under pressure. And that kid who I met eyes with jesus he's adorable but why was he standing there? Maybe waiting for somebody? Maybe the professor? Ugh when can I start talking to him? Every time we have Japanese class I always see him. He's pretty cute. But there's just never a time we can ever talk. Our assigned seats resembles the distance from New York to L.A. But we gotta find a way to at least talk. Or else it's going to drive me insane. Wednesday? Okay, Wednesday. See what this kid is all about. Find out about him. Get to know him more, like a mini rendezvous. Maybe some coffee would be nice, at the campus center? Somewhere? But yeah, how do I tell him I already have a boyfriend? Ugh, what if I start to like this kid more? How's that going to work?! The struggle. 

After I had lunch with friends. I made myself some salad and drenched it with caesar dressing. Along with that a slice of pizza and some rice with pork, again. We were mainly discussing about the party during the weekend and how I was angry about a girl who kept clinging on to me. 

"Dude, she's been following you for two years," one of them said. "Why don't you just give that bitch a chance and date her?"

I was at a loss for words. "Hell to the no. I don't give a flying fck about her. Rejection is rejection. Nothing else. Nada."

At that point it seemed as if everything I didn't want came easily and everything I wanted didn't. 

I wrote a paper that took about three hours to complete and ate a light dinner with a taekwondo friend and his roommate. The dining hall had little to no food available. There was an empty row of trays. All that was left was cereal and ground beef and salad. I grabbed all three and ate some ice cream after. The campus late-night dinner was miserable. My friend showed me a K-Tigers video and suggested to mimik them. And that gave me an idea. 

Doing work is tedious. Studying.

But good things unexpectedly come.

Chilled with a friend in the evening. A Sunday evening. An unusual time. We ate dinner, played a casual rally of table tennis and sat outside the library talking about music.

"I'm going to attempt a backflip by the end of December," he said. "It's going to be epic."

"We'll have to see," I said. "But by all means if you could pull it off it would be pretty sick."

First party in a while.

What a night. Crashed at my roommate's girlfriend's place on the sofa, head spinning.

The next day I woke up at 8 a.m., wondering where I was. I hadn't eaten since 4 pm yesterday.

My roommate and I went back to the dorm when it was pouring rain.


Now there's this girl my entire suite all detest. She is obnoxious, and everything she does is just darn awful and awkward and done so poorly. No offense, but it gets on our nerves. We just want her to leave us alone. But she's everywhere and we can't avoid it. She is a hindrance to my joy.

During the entire time I was at the party she followed me wherever I went. Sure I guess she wanted to make sure I was alright but this was too much. That blushful gaze she made at me made my entire body shiver in disgust. I just wanted to be left alone so I could mingle with people but she's just all over me, watching my every move like some annoying security camera and grabbing onto my arm and leaning her head against my shoulder.

Excuse me I'm not your pillow.

I just want to be left alone! Why can't she just do that. Why does she have to barge into my joy. Yet no matter what I do, I can't seem to avoid her.

Woody Allen's book is haunted I tell you. Haunted.

I read a passage about transubstantiation. The idea of dematerializing and rematerializing somewhere else in the world.

And I posted a quote about transubstantiation last night:

"… transubstantiation, the process whereby a person will suddenly dematerialize and rematerialize somewhere else in the world. This is not a bad way to travel, although there is usually a half-hour wait for luggage. The most astonishing case of transubstantiation was that of Sir Arthur Nurney, who vanished with an audible pop while he was taking a bath and suddenly appeared in the strings section of the Vienna Symphony Orchestra. He stayed on as the first violinist for twenty-seven years, although he could only play “Three Blind Mice,” and vanished abruptly one day during Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony, turning up in bed with Winston Churchill."

During the night I had a dream of kissing a giraffe.

The next day one girl liked the quote, and when I visited her page it showed a picture of her kissing a giraffe.

Coincidence? or did I actually experience transubstantiation?

Plato makes out with a giraffe

A dream where I made out with a giraffe... This was so awkward and strange and disturbing in so many ways.  A giraffe just suddenly came up to me and starting kissing me on the lips. Its face was satisfied. I couldn't believe it.

Prior to this whole incident I remember in my dream going to a Japanese restaurant to see my mother's acquaintance, who was off to Japan, then walking outside on a whim with my plate and seemed to forget my water bottle. Then I walked into a movie theater that had a small screen but they were playing the news. It seemed more of a large conference room than a theater. The audience, dressed in business casual attire, were watching the screen, losing interest. 

I looked up some meanings for seeing giraffes in my dreams and most say that it's the idea of needing to "reach out" more in life. But perhaps I dreamed of giraffes from my hours of studying Plato and his entire concept of the myth of Er, the throne of necessity, where people have the option to choose to be reborn as either a human or an animal in the afterlife. Damn it, Plato! And the idea of the people watching the screen represents the Allegory of the Cave, where we are being manipulated to believe that this news is what's most important and nothing else! Or perhaps this whole dream came from reading Woody Allen's obscure chapter on transubstantiation.

But the whole idea of kissing a giraffe... was something way out of the ordinary.

Back at the dorm.

Ugh I'm craving some curry and ramen and halal again.

This place has none of that.

The closest ramen you could get here is instant, cup ramen. And we all know that stuff is the worst health-wise.

The struggle is real.

And the clock strikes four in the morning.

Ah, the time of the night where I would usually be in deep sleep.

The city is dark and quiet.

Devoid of sound.

I shut my textbook and all the study guides for the night.

The city is all the same, but it's nice to be back and finally see some life and color. It's nice to be in my room again. It's nice to be with my mom again. It's nice to sleep in my bed again. It's nice to finally relish some only-in-NY food. It's nice to...

uh..

too sleepy

good night.

Jeter etches a surreal afterglow to his teammates and fans from eight to 80 and beyond.

Under the Lights and Sell-Out Crowd, The Yankee Shortstop Ends a Career Worth Remembering

He ends his last game as a Yankee in the Bronx with a walk-off single. A perfect set-up to end not only a game, but Derek Jeter's last game as a shortstop at Yankee Stadium. And he did it himself.

He starts with an RBI double in the bottom of the first, collects another in the seventh and slaps the ball the other way in the bottom of the 9th for a game-winning walk-off single, turning Robertson's blown save into the "best blown save."

For twenty seasons, Jeter has always been with Yankees, played shortstop and worn the number 2. He has never been called out of a game.

Tonight, at the stadium, it was his last time in pinstripes. The last time Bob Sheppard announced his name at-bat. The last time Yankee fans got to witness a finale so grand and spectacular.

"It feels like being in your own funeral," Jeter says. "People giving you praise, compliments and admirations. Of course I appreciate them all but at the same time it feels like a part of you is dying if you know what I mean."

Jeter admits he almost broke down to tears at certain times during the game.

"Throughout the game I thought: please don't hit it to me I don't know what's going to happen," he says. "... Had it ended the way it was, I don't how I was going to react. I would've broken into tears. But now that we won this way, I'm excited. Sorry."

When asked about what made him feel the most emotional, he refers to the fans.

"They're all saying 'Thank you, Jeter', but I want to tell them, 'For what?' I'm just trying to do my job. But it means so much.

"The feeling when people say things to you, whether it's at second or the dugout, is when I really get emotional."

During the end of the game, in addition to his current teammates, members of the core four, Mariano Rivera, Jorge Posada, Andy Pettitte, along with Bernie Williams, Tino Martinez and Joe Torre, were on the field congratulating Jeter for a tremendous career in baseball.

Jeter chooses to play in Fenway for the final upcoming games, respecting not only the rivalry but also the fans who want to see him play for the last time.

"Shortstop was his office," Jack Curry says. "[Tonight] he was closing the door to his office."