Jake Shimabukuro in concert

Had the wonderful privilege to see ukulele virtuoso Jake Shimabukuro in concert with baby Ting. In the end a chance for a meet and greet.

We shook hands.

"Aloha, Jake. Great show out there," I said, a tad nervous.
With a thanks, he signed a copy of my cd, as well as the jacket.
"Did you enjoy it?" he asked.
"Of course, it was amazing."
He smiled.
"I had a few ukulele lessons from your brother in Hawaii a couple years ago," I said.
"Ohh yeah? Is it the one near the Pacific mall?"
"Yeah the one near Waikiki Beach!" I said, excited.
"Yes!" he said. "Do you go to Hawaii often?"
"Yeap." I meant to say that I haven't been there for a few years but I was starstruck at the time.
"Well I hope to see you in Hawaii" he said.
"Most definitely."


And I'm so happy I got the chance to get his autograph. And I'm so happy that Ting got a chance to get his autograph as well.

Baby Ting meets Jake Shimabukuro.

Tomorrow is also the opening day for the N.Y. Yankees as they face the Houston Astros at Minute Maid Park. The day has come for some ball! It's time to break in my Yankees windbreaker.

With Bruce Shimabukuro, two years ago.

Got an exam tomorrow and a quiz. Mundane and stressful school days seem to never end. My grades are subpar, they could totally be better. I feel like I'm trying hard, but not hard enough. Consistency is of vital importance if you're a generally good student. An ace student losing his touch and getting straight Cs is inexplainable. What happened, is all they could ask him.

New novel work in progress

Sean K--- is a college student who wrote his first debut novella, "Punctured Japan" (2011), which received widespread attention from faculty and students at his very own high school. Three years later, he begins to write another written piece, "The Winding Road to the Timid Moon" (Title still pending), as he had a chance to sit down with us and answer a few questions on writing, as well as details about his new novella. 

Please describe your new piece.

It's not an extraordinary magnum opus novel, I can tell you that. It's quite different from what I've done before because the chapters are really cut up and each of them takes place at a different location. Time travels really fast in this story and I feel there are certain cases where it is hard to follow.

What is the story about?

There is not really a hard plot to the story (laughs). Originally I did not intent to write a long story. Most of the chapters were intended to be short stories if not they were abandoned opening-liners of stories I thought of in the past but got stuck after. So it's also okay to think of this story as a collection of opening paragraphs to stories I thought of earlier in the past. But the ideal story, in a general sense, is about a twenty-something college student trying to get accustomed to the transition from the carefree student to the sharp, responsible adult. In the process he stumbles upon surreal happenings, as he begins to feel the difficulties of managing a life so grand and spontaneous.

Did you have any difficulty with the process of writing this story?

I get diagnosed with writer's block pretty frequently so yes, I have stumbled and gotten stuck several times. I mean the story is still unfinished and I'm running out of ideas. It's a process that writers tend to have.

What do you think is the best way to improve on one's writing?

Based on the standpoint of a college student who is passionate about writing, just write everyday. Keep a journal or a blog and just write whatever pops up into your mind. Jot down new words you discover, read books as much as possible, and write write write.

Time management plays a huge factor for you in writing this piece.

It certainly does. And it doesn't only allude to this but also for everything else. Usually due to the workload from my classes I have little to no time to work on my story. But if I got the time, I'll be writing.

What inspired you to write this story?

Nothing really. Ideas just surge into my mind, and I jot them down at certain times throughout the day. When I get a rough sense of a story I begin to write.

What is something that really impresses you?

I have to say individuals who continue to have a passion for something. People who do not lose interest in things, and keep doing what they are doing.

Chinatown part 2. Yum cha

Had Yum cha for the first time today in Chinatown. The 8 of us sat at the table, relishing the portions of food ranging from chicken feet to shumai. The place was filled, mostly occupied by older generations. We were probably the only group of college students there. Everyone conversed in the colorful language of Cantonese or Mandarin. I was unable to decipher anything. Even the television on the wall was running a Chinese program with Chinese subtitles. The server pulled the cart over and placed a plate of chicken feet on the table. Everyone started to grab one and eat it, skillfully spitting out the bones and eating every part of the skin. My baby Ting grabbed one for me. I was hesitant at first but because she said it tasted delicious I began to eat it.
"No, you're eating it the wrong way. You have to take out the bones first."

I've never in my life eaten the feet part of chicken. Breasts, wings, sure. All the time. But not the feet. I couldn't eat it. More and more food I've never seen before came out. Shumai, pork buns, manju (at least that's what it was called in Japanese), and beef were the only ones I knew beforehand. At one point I felt like a kid trying new dishes. I'd eat something and all eyes would stare at my direction, curious to how I would like it.

A dish of durian came. Green things that looked like miniature croissants. I asked what it was.
"Durian," she said.
Noticing my clueless expression on my face, I repeated once again.
"What is this?"
"It's durian," her friend said.
"What's that?!" I asked.
All 7 of them looked toward me, seeming perplexed that I didn't know what that was. My baby showed me a picture of it on her phone.
"Pretty sure I've seen that fruit on a video game," I said.

It appears in Super Mario Sunshine, where Mario can kick it and feed it to Yoshi.

"You either like it or you don't," her friend said.
It was alright.


Everyone knew everything about yum cha. The customs. I was the only one who knew nothing. How the person filling tea for others is considered gracious, how leaving the tea lid open is a sign for refills, and how knocking two fingers on the table when the person is pouring the tea is considered a sign of gratitude. So legitimate.

In the end the server collected all of our cups and plates, stacked them all together, and carried it with one hand. Nothing but skill right there.

But I really enjoyed having my first ever yum cha. I thank my baby for that, for I would have never had the opportunity to eat yum cha.


After eating she went back home to grab her personal belongings. I escorted her to the front of her house as she told me to wait at the entrance. At the time it was the closest I've ever gotten to her home. Can I come in, was the words I was about to ask. But seeing that it was impossible, I didn't ask and just waited for her outside.

The entire group decided to go to sing some karaoke, while I passed since it was too far away. Way too far. I went uptown, met my mom during her lunch break, bought a Bob Dylan and George Gershwin CD after, and rode the train home.

Chinatown

The subway was crowded as it was rush hour. Businessmen and women coming home from work, a few tourists here and there.

Stand clear of the closing doors please.

At the station commuters were adroitly navigating their way to their trains as the saxophone player on the side leisurely played his piece.


Baby Ting and I met up in Chinatown and she guided me to the restaurant.

"We're here!" she said.
In front was a typical deli.
"Here?!" I asked.
"No just kidding."
We resumed to walk along the street. We walked several blocks and turned at corners.
"We're here!" she said.
This time we were in front of a bakery.
"Oh here?"
"Nopeee."
We continued to walk up a little more and arrived at a seemingly new restaurant.
"We're hereee!"
"Oh here?"
"Yeah it's actually here."


I had dinner with baby Ting and her friends in Chinatown. The food was really good as it was legit. It was nice seeing her friends. We talked a little about our backgrounds, what kind of job we wanted to pursue, and the like.
"You know, Sean is...," Ting said. "Japanese."
"Ohhhh," they said all in unison.
"You know, Sean does.... taekwondo."
"Ohhhhh."

^_^

Tour

What was supposed to occur during winter break finally happened today. I toured my neighborhood with my baby Ting. I showed her the historical sightings of the neighborhood, cutting through Central Park and out.

"I don't like Central Park," she said. "Nothing to do there."

But we went anyway as I showed her the places I used to go in my childhood. An air of nostalgia seeped into me at certain times.

Regarding that the area was pretty much residential, there was not that many landmarks to show, but there were a couple, and, if I had not missed any, I led her to all of them.

As we were touring I always wished the weather was warmer. Yesterday was a one-day wonder, where the temperature reached a whopping 55 degrees.

We nibbled on some hot dogs and walked all the way down to Times Square without realizing. We aimlessly strolled around the neighborhood with our hands together in my coat pocket. It was a nice little date as we were in our own little world together.

Spring Break Begins Here

About three and a half hours later, I am home. Three and a half hours later I went from a quiet, suburban university to the bustling streets of New York City. The bus came an hour late, which I was kind of fed up about since it was freezing outside, but it was okay because I was with my baby Ting. I rode the bus for the first time with her as we held hands the entire ride without letting go. I slept most of the time while she watched a Pixar animated film.

Today we celebrate our 5 months together.

While listening to Adele's 'Make you Feel My Love', I walk in the hustle and bustle, taking in the metropolitan scenery that I have not landed foot on since the late days of January.



There's this proverb in Japanese 郷に入れば郷に従え, which merely means "When in a village, follow what they do." One of the first things that my mom and I had a discussion about was this very idea. One of the simplest examples is when you are a guest at someone's house. You would show them their respect and manners at their home. The same idea is for immigrants who live in countries not in their hometown. When one first starts to live in a new country, contrary to their own, admittedly they stumble upon some culture shocks. They might accidentally break rules, laws, even, in some cases. But it's important to abide by, and adapt to the country they are currently living in and their basic standards. They can maintain their cultural norms, as they are most comfortable in that fashion, but it's also important to take into account the customs and rules for the country they are in. For example, if one lives in America one should have some effort to watch American movies, television shows, and the like.

A Note on Talking "White"

What does it mean when an asian-american says that you talk like a "white" person?

I don't get it.

If you're asian are you supposed to not talk like one?

What's the big deal here?

Excuse me, but I don't speak like a "white" person-- I talk like an American, just like everybody else.

Just because I'm asian doesn't mean I have to have an accent.

This is America. What do you expect?


To all of those who think I talk "white" please reconsider what you freaking say, and abolish these nonsense terms such as "whitewashed" and "twinkie". It's an insult to both caucasians and me.

Japan Earthquake Tsunami

3 years ago on this very day Japan had been punctured. It was an unprecedented disaster that swept away resident houses and cars and took away the lives of thousands of civilians just like that. The massive 9.0 earthquake and tsunami was no easy occurrence to bear-- it destroyed and crippled the Fukushima Daiichi Powerplant, leaking a large mass of radiation across the nation. It lead to aftershocks. Roads and towns up north were swept away. A boat washed up on land while the massive waves swept the bodies of those who had no time for mitigation. It haunted residents, instilled anxiety about the consequences, holding dearly to them the hope and recovery of their home land.

Japan is in fact the place where just about every type of natural disaster can occur. From volcanoes to typhoons, they can expect anything. 

3 months after the incident I wrote a novella based on it "Punctured Japan", (時間の向こうがわ」where the protagonist who had lost his family and his home, shelters himself in the deserted streets of Tokyo and faces the inevitable, psychological trauma of loss and love. It was the first all-out story I have ever written. 

Today is a day of rememberance. Mourn for those who have lost their lives, to those who have lost their loved ones, to those who have been injured, to those who have lost their homes, to those who sacrificed themselves in sheer bravery, to all of those who have aided the recovery of the earthquake tsunami.

The Post-Tournament Hangover

I miss my first class and arrive 10 minutes late to my second, both that take down attendance. Ironically I arrive promptly to a lecture that doesn't even care the least about it.

On a 4 a.m. the day before, I packed my sparring bag to get ready to go to the taekwondo tournament at Princeton. I kissed my girlfriend who seemed half asleep at the time see you tonight, and went off. I missed her so much when I left the room.

My performance at the tournament was short, but I am proud of my b-team teammates, who were just a hair shy of winning gold. I said my hellos to my all-star teammates I traveled and trained with during winter break to the bay area and it's nice to see them again. One of them got 1st place in the poomsae division.

We got back around 10 p.m. Exhausting is not the right word. It was such a long day. Fighting, standing, waiting, and sitting in the long car ride sandwiched between my teammates. I slept over at my girlfriend's dorm after the four hour car ride back and I was so excited to see her. It soothed me. She gave me a massage and it was so pleasant and nice. Had a rough, long day and she cured it for me.



Today has not really been my day.

I've spent the entire Sunday at the tournament that I just so happened to shove away my academic priorities for that day. This morning/afternoon, I spent my time writing a report in Japanese and investigating criminal records for journalism. In addition, I realized that there was another Japanese homework assignment that I had completely ignored until now and it was due at 3pm today, and I had class at 2:45. The subpar work took more time than I expected that I had to skip my first class. I arrived on campus and went to print out all the assignments just in the nick of time, only to see that the printer had printed an error page, leaving me to have to re-print the page, resulting me to be late for my second class.

I call this the post-tournament hangover, where the load of exhaustion both physically and mentally leads to the postponing of academic priorities.


Anyway, there is a bus driver that operates the university shuttle's evening shift, it seems, and he is nothing but rude. There aren't any cords or signals to pull to signal for stop, so it's normal for students to tell the driver they want to get off at their stop. But he makes it worse by complaining and hollering all the time.

"If you don't tell me to stop, I am not gonna stop. If I don't hear anything I'm not gonna stop."

The struggle..

You are excited to see your girlfriend. You text her that you are here and then she opens the door and in the small little piano room is her with another one of her best guy friends, alone.

Of course you trust her with all your heart, since she is your girlfriend, but at the same time it is frustrating to see it. It makes you feel so uncomfortable. It doesn't seem appropriate, for your girlfriend being next to her best guy friend. All they were doing was sharing their love of music together, but the feeling you get when you see your girlfriend with another guy. It just feels frustrating.


They share laughs together, and even have breakfast every day. And I didn't even know that. Not that I need to know but it's just surprising... After all friends are friends. But there are certain feelings you get when they are friends of the opposite gender.

I can't do anything about it and that's what's so frustrating.

"Stop seeing that kid forever." No.. I can't say such a thing. They're friends.

"You're all mine and I don't like seeing you with anyone else." That's even worse.

You can't tell your girlfriend what to do because that's just controlling her. You trust her. But at the same time that human instinct called jealousy seeps in your mind and it just won't come off. What can you do? Really is there even anything you can really do?

Fever has gone down, but the virus has not left my body yet. Less dizzy. Throat slightly hurts. One more day in the dorm and a visit to the doctors tomorrow should be enough for me to recover from the fever completely.


I realized my previous roommate eating at the dining hall alone so I sat by him.
"How are you liking it here?" I asked.
"I might transfer to Binghamton," he immediately says. "There's something about this place."
I waited for him to continue while twirling spaghetti on my fork.
"I don't know I can't really explain it."
"Probably because you live here. As known as the worst quad to live in."
"I don't know it might be. Or maybe kind of like how you thought about your previous college."
I thought about my previous college. Artsy, hipster, small, lifeless, very few asians.
I took a swig of my lemonade and cleared my throat. "So you might become a double transfer," I laughed.
"Yeah," he said.

If there's ever a class that I would want to drop right this instant it would be the so-called comparative politics class. The worse part is that it meets three times a week. Two lectures, one discussion section. The professor knows too much. He's one of those professors who is extremely smart but cannot teach at all. He goes on and on talking about random, arcane political theory that nobody frankly cares about except that one political nerd who follows up with questions and argues with the professor. The discussion section is even worse. In the class the TA speaks really quietly and you'd really have to lean in to know what she's saying. There are two to three political nerds who keep blabbing and going off topic, and a kid who laughs like a frog. I'm here in my seat waiting to fall asleep any minute.

I don't even have the textbook, haven't done anything, don't even know what the topic we are focusing on currently.

Why did I take it in the first place? I thought it would complement journalism. And I can't say I didn't find American Politics interesting last semester. So I thought I'd give this a shot. My first instinct was no, but I figured why not.

First instincts are usually always the best choice. Go with your gut.