See what a big geek I am! I actually keep track of these things!
BOOKS READ 2000
1. Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis
2. A Wizard Of Earthsea by Ursula K. LeGuin
3. The Ladies Auxilliary by Tiva Mirvis
4. How To Make An American Quilt by Whitney Otto
5. 2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke
6. Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick
7. Star Trek: The Lives Of Dax by Marco Palmieri
8. Harry Potter & The Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling
9. The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides
10.Interpreter Of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
BOOKS READ 2001
1.The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
2. Monkey Bridge by Lan Cao
3. Like Water For Chocolate by Laura Esquivel
4. The Bean Trees by Barbara Kingsolver
5. Pigs In Heaven by Barbara Kingsolver
6. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
7. Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver
8. The Blessing Way by Tony Hillerman
9. The Dance Hall Of The Dead by Tony Hillerman
10. The Listening Woman by Tony Hillerman
11.The People Of Darkness by Tony Hillerman
12. The Dark Wind by Tony Hillerman
13. The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan
14. The Bonesetter’s Daughter by Amy Tan
15. First They Killed My Father by Loung Ung
16. Arranged Marriage by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
17.When Broken Glass Floats by Chanrithy Him
18.The Stones Cry Out by Molyda Szymusiak
19. Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat
20. Drowning Ruth by Christina Shwartz
21. Bee Season by Myla Goldberg
22. Harry Potter & The Chamber Of Secrets J.K. Rowling
23. New Worlds For All: Indians, Europeans, and the Remaking of
Early America by Colin Hathaway
24. Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Resurrecting Ravana by Ray Garton
25. Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Tales of The Slayer Vol I.(collected short
stories)
Books Read 2002
1. Buffy the Vampire Slayer-Revenant by Mel Odom
2. Buffy the Vampire Slayer-Immortal by Christopher Golden and Nancy Holder
3. Bridget Jones Diary by Helen Fielding
4. While I Was Gone by Sue Miller
5. Black Robe by Brian Moore
6. Buffy the Vampire Slayer– Spike & Dru: Pretty Maids All In A Row by
Christopher Golden
7. Catfish and Mandala by Andrew X. Pham
8. Harry Potter & The Prisoner Of Azkaban J.K. Rowling
Books Read 2003
1. The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien
2. American Indians by William T. Hagan
3. Martyred Village by Sarah Farmer
4.Combat Medic by Craig Roberts
5. American Daughter Gone To War by Winnie Smith
6. A Very Long Engagement by Sebastien Japrisot
7. Home Before Morning by Lynda Van Devanter
8. Farscape: Ship of Ghosts by David Bischoff
9. Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Tales of The Slayer Vol II.(collected short stories)
10. The Quiet American by Graham Greene
11. Four Hours In My Lai by Michael Bilton and Kevin Sim
12. The Ugly American by William J. Lederer
13. A Life of Her Own: The Transformation of A Countrywoman In Twentieth Century France by Emile Carles
14. The Sorrow of War by Bao Ninh
Books Read 2004
1. All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
2. Farscape: House of Cards by Keith R. A. DeCandido
3. Farscape: Dark Side of the Sun by Andrew Dymond
4. Sugar Creek: Life on the Illinois Prairie by John Mack Faragher
5. Darkness At Noon by Arthur Koestler
6. The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien
7. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
8. Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier
9. Maus by Art Spiegelman
P.S. Here's an article from L.A. Weekly-- a review of Gwen Stefani's dance album "Love Angel Music Baby." Also, there is an error in this article. "Ex-Girlfriend" is not about Tony Kanal, but Gavin Rossdale. Gwen herself says so in the Vh1 Storytellers special. ; )
DEC. 31, 2004 - JAN. 6, 2005
Woman vs. Machine
As persona overtakes person, Love, Angel, Music, Baby shows Gwen Stefani still drives her own ambitionby Ernest Hardy
(Illustration by Tra Selhtrow)
If the release of Medulla secured Björk’s position as queen of art-house pop (and it did), then Love. Angel. Music. Baby. makes it clear that Gwen Stefani is the princess of the multiplex. That’s not a diss. The nasal-voiced singer-songwriter/fledgling actress has long demonstrated an impressive knack for penning smart lyrics and catchy hooks that the boys in the band No Doubt skillfully wrap in ska/punk/reggae-lite, refracted Top 40 grooves. It’s popcorn fare but it’s filling.
The cinema analogy can be teased further with Stefani, who’s making her big-screen debut in Martin Scorsese’s Howard Hughes biopic, The Aviator. In it, the erstwhile Orange County babe plays Jean Harlow, the prototypical Hollywood blond bombshell. Whether or not you think she pulls it off, casting her in the part lays bare her cultural lineage.
When No Doubt first climbed from the O.C. margins to national center stage, the press immediately labeled Stefani the new Madonna. But just as Madonna drew lazy, off-the-mark comparisons to Marilyn Monroe, the comparisons between La Ciccone and Stefani were equally half-assed. The thing(s) that made Stefani snap, crackle and pop were the ways she reconciled contradictions that really only contradict when women are sliced and diced for narrowly cast fantasies. She chilled casually with her boys on the outskirts of mainstream culture while possessing a clear gift for manipulating the formulas of pop convention. She was street savvy, unapologetically athletic and a team player, the kind of girl who’d jump in a mosh pit without hesitation and then chug a beer, all while maintaining the glossy, even delicate, pin-up beauty of which stroke fantasies are made. Her singing voice was both that of a fuck-doll come to life, rouged in emotional wounds and breathy come-ons, and a coolly self-possessed woman. It all added up to a paradoxical sexiness that was natural and unforced yet calculated, dripping in status quo signifiers of beauty and desirability; it was — and still is — hella good.
"This record is actually less of me than I’ve ever been before," says Gwen in the December issue of Blender, discussing the new record. (The acronym L.A.M.B. just so happens to be the name of her recently launched fashion line.) She gets major points for that statement. Most pop stars hawk their latest product by swearing they’re serving you realness, that they’re giving a guided tour through the deepest, darkest caverns in their psyches. But in her quest to make an old-fashioned (as in, a nod to the music of her youth) dance record, the 35-year-old multi-hyphenate makes it clear that there’s artifice at work; the album intentionally distances itself from the already familiar, public Gwen Stefani who pouts and seduces her way across airwaves and fashion layouts, from the flesh & blood woman behind her own burgeoning multimedia empire, and even from the Gwen Stefani who’s penned some of the best songs about the heartache of busted relationships we’ve heard in the last 10 years.
The new CD is filled with A-list collaborators: songstress-for-hire Linda Perry, André 3000, the Neptunes, Tony Kanal, Nellee Hooper, Dr. Dre, Eve, Dallas Austin; there are even cred-boosting cameos by cult femmes Wendy & Lisa, as well as original members of New Order. Fans and critics have largely embraced L.A.M.B. but there’ve also been persistent, low-hum grumblings of dissatisfaction. The biggest complaint is that, as represented by the slew of co-pilots, the collection is too jarringly unfocused in its segues from new wave to R&B, from metallic guitar riffs to interpolations of classic show tunes, with a stopover in ’80s rock-chick land. Either way, L.A.M.B. is best appreciated as a mix tape whose source material is those old Rhino Records Best of the ’80s compilations.
The track "The Real Thing" opens with a subtle evocation of Cyndi Lauper’s "Time After Time" before shifting gears to ’80s-style Brit synth-pop, summoning the ghosts of New Order, Pet Shop Boys and countless now-forgotten one-hit wonders who were once the staples of KROQ’s playlist. Easily one of L.A.M.B.’s best moments, "The Real Thing" is a potent snapshot of days gone by. It’s also the cut with the greatest cast of cool supporting players — producer: Nellee Hooper (Massive Attack, Björk); background vocals: Bernard Sumner (New Order); keyboards: Lisa Coleman (the Revolution, Wendy & Lisa); guitar: Wendy Melvoin (Wendy & Lisa, the Revolution); bass: Peter Hook (New Order). It’s a mercifully irony-free nod to the synth confections once sneered at by critics and fans of "real" rock music. The chilled outlines of those songs were warmed from the inside by chords of melancholy. They linger in the memories of former (and likely, still) misfits, lonely kids and freaks because the poignant, naked ache in the grooves — almost defiant for being so pointed — spoke not just to the bearer’s isolation but to a yearning for transcendence that almost couldn’t be spoken for fear it might never be realized or fully understood by anyone else.
"Hollaback Girl" lights incense at the shrine of Toni "Hey Mickey" Basil, with the ubiquitous Neptunes providing a marching band’s looped drum & horn play as the thread for a funky cloak that imbues Stefani’s pinched white-girl vocals with barked attitude. Somewhere Kelis is throwing her milkshake against a wall in frustration; her Tasty CD from earlier this year similarly shared the Neptunes and André 3000 as producers. It also had a more-than-similar, all-over-the-map musical approach, complete with an ’80s throwback at its center, but it’s a given that Stefani’s sales, media profile and chart numbers will easily dwarf Kelis’ effort.
The fantastic "Serious" is as much a nod to the once abundant Latin Freestyle/electro-synth garbed Madonnabees as it is to "Borderline"/Jellybean Benitez–era Madonna herself. The drum machine, Chic-derived guitar and sassily delivered lyrics during the bridge are a stellar fusion of elements, tailor-made for dance-floor acting out. "Harajuku Girls," an ode to Japanese youth culture’s consumerism, love of designer fashion and fetish for pricey gadgets consolidates the product placement and name dropping that appears throughout the album, especially on the sample-driven R&B spliff "Luxurious." That last number floats atop a purposefully over-familiar lift from the Isley Brothers’ "Between the Sheets" (think Biggie) and, in flawless duplication of the crude hip-hop/soul love songs that have taken over R&B, filters romantic desire through the language of crass materialism. It’s laugh-out-loud funny for being played almost completely straight — especially the French-spoken intro.
The most immediately affecting song on the album — produced by Dallas Austin, channeling the new-wave gods with a true believer’s devotion (and with an assist from Nellee Hooper) — is "Cool." It’s the latest installation in the ongoing saga of Stefani and ex-boyfriend/still-bandmate, Tony Kanal. With their shattered relationship already being the stuff of many of No Doubt’s best songs — "Don’t Speak," "Simple Kind of Life," "Ex-Girlfriend" — the new song tips a sonic hat to the Cars as Stefani coos lyrics that are both bruised and juiced by the fact of her maintaining a friendship with her former greatest-love-of-all as she embarks on a life with her true true love (husband Gavin Rossdale). In "Cool," Kanal brings his new lady around to meet Stefani, now a dear friend, and the vibe is all love. This is the stuff of not just grown-up life but hard-earned maturity. The two are not mutually exclusive, but they’re far from synonymous and Stefani’s vocals brim with a tenderness that underlines her transition from brokenhearted girl to a woman who’s figured some real shit out: After all the obstacles, it’s good to see you now with someone else/After all that we’ve been through, I know we’re cool.
The only real dud is the closing number, "Long Way To Go," featuring the second vocal and production appearances by André 3000 (billed as Johnny Vulture on the frenetic electro explosion "Bubble Pop Electric"). The duet should have been the 21st-century equivalent of Prince meeting Madonna on "Love Song" from her Like a Prayer album. Not only has L.A.M.B., by this point, been clearly building toward a show-stopping finale but André and Stefani are arguably at the same career zeniths that their musical forbears were when they hooked up in the studio. Instead, this lament at the bigotries faced by interracial couples is a clunky, less cool spinoff of INXS’s "Original Sin." It ultimately collapses beneath the thick, cloying vibe of self-importance that wafts from it.
Overall, though, there’s a tongue-in-cheek quality to the record, a certain playfulness even in the tunes of moody contemplation. The album bottles the giggly fizz of rifling through your old clothes and photos, trying on assorted past selves that are not yet weighed with disappointment and compromise. Stefani’s neatest trick may well be that, despite being a hugely successful corporate commodity by aim and hard work, and having long ago ceased pining for the simple life, she’s still able to set aside the spreadsheet to reveal the human being at the wheel.
Gwen Stefani Love. Angel. Music. Baby. Interscope Records
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Monday, December 20, 2004
Dreamscape
I’ve been having some very disturbing dreams lately. Well, actually I generally don’t have good dreams but these recent ones are making me want to swear off sleep forever.
Earlier last week, I had a dream where, for some reason, I had to have surgery. In this surgery, my feet would be cut off (for some unknown reason) and then reattached. I woke up after my surgery and was sitting in a chair under the afghan my mother made for me. All of this sudden, I looked down because my feet felt strange. To my horror, they came loose! Then they ran away! My very own feet abandoned me, and of course I couldn’t chase after them– because I had no feet.
During the middle of the week, I had a nightmare concerning, I suppose one could say, one of my great phobias. Water. In this one, there was a giant wave, a tsunami headed for my house. No one believed me when I told them it was coming, even though I could see the wave in the distance. A wave so big it took up the entire sky. I grabbed my dog and was trying to run away. But every time I turned around, it was getting closer. Finally, the wave crested. We tumbled around under water, and just as I was about to drown, I woke up.
Today, I had my most disturbing dreams in ages. But for it to make sense, I think, I have to go back in time.
When I was in the 5th grade, I think I was about 10, my grandma called with bad news. She had gone out earlier in the day with her friend Helen. In the afternoon, they (my great aunts and uncles, and grandparents) were going to go to the Senior Club. When my grandma, who doesn’t drive, got home from her shopping trip with Helen, she entered the house alone. Helen backed out of the driveway.
She looked around for my grandpa, asking if he was ready to go to the Club. She found him on the bathroom floor, having a seizure. It was Valentine’s Day.
After she called for an ambulance, she called for her sister and brother- in- law. The doctor determined that my grandfather had suffered an aneurism. It was at the base of his brain, and whatever they were doing for him wasn’t helping. He was awake at this point and just wanted to leave the hospital. So they transferred him to UCLA for a fancy schmancy brain surgery. He never woke up.
He contracted pneumonia from an improperly cleaned respirator. Then he slipped into a coma. Three months later he was dead.
Ever since that happened, every time I get a headache, I have this secret fear that my brain is going to explode.
In this dream, my mom was visiting me. I went in to the bathroom to throw some water on my face because I felt really bad. But I didn’t want her to know that I felt sick. Then there was a white hot flash and I couldn't see. I put my hands up to my temples because it hurt so bad and fell to the floor. I couldn't move. And I started to scream a blood curdling scream. Then my mother was standing in front of me, shaking her finger at me like I'd been bad. She wouldn’t help me. I kept screaming because I needed help. Then it dawned on me that she probably wasn't real, just a hallucination brought on by a brain bleed or something. I felt hot tears running down my face because I began to think that maybe I wasn't even screaming. Maybe no one could hear me because the sound was in my head. Then my whole body started to shake uncontrollably. No one was coming to help me, and I was going to die in my own bathroom.
I’ve never in my life had such a disturbing dream. It felt so real! I actually thought that it was happening. The screaming was ear- piercing. The fear, the pain, it was all so vivid. When I woke up I was almost afraid to move. Where was I? Had it actually happened? Since my ears weren’t bleeding, I figured it had been a nightmare.
But knowing that won’t make it any easier to sleep tonight.
~ Tragic Tuyen
Earlier last week, I had a dream where, for some reason, I had to have surgery. In this surgery, my feet would be cut off (for some unknown reason) and then reattached. I woke up after my surgery and was sitting in a chair under the afghan my mother made for me. All of this sudden, I looked down because my feet felt strange. To my horror, they came loose! Then they ran away! My very own feet abandoned me, and of course I couldn’t chase after them– because I had no feet.
During the middle of the week, I had a nightmare concerning, I suppose one could say, one of my great phobias. Water. In this one, there was a giant wave, a tsunami headed for my house. No one believed me when I told them it was coming, even though I could see the wave in the distance. A wave so big it took up the entire sky. I grabbed my dog and was trying to run away. But every time I turned around, it was getting closer. Finally, the wave crested. We tumbled around under water, and just as I was about to drown, I woke up.
Today, I had my most disturbing dreams in ages. But for it to make sense, I think, I have to go back in time.
When I was in the 5th grade, I think I was about 10, my grandma called with bad news. She had gone out earlier in the day with her friend Helen. In the afternoon, they (my great aunts and uncles, and grandparents) were going to go to the Senior Club. When my grandma, who doesn’t drive, got home from her shopping trip with Helen, she entered the house alone. Helen backed out of the driveway.
She looked around for my grandpa, asking if he was ready to go to the Club. She found him on the bathroom floor, having a seizure. It was Valentine’s Day.
After she called for an ambulance, she called for her sister and brother- in- law. The doctor determined that my grandfather had suffered an aneurism. It was at the base of his brain, and whatever they were doing for him wasn’t helping. He was awake at this point and just wanted to leave the hospital. So they transferred him to UCLA for a fancy schmancy brain surgery. He never woke up.
He contracted pneumonia from an improperly cleaned respirator. Then he slipped into a coma. Three months later he was dead.
Ever since that happened, every time I get a headache, I have this secret fear that my brain is going to explode.
In this dream, my mom was visiting me. I went in to the bathroom to throw some water on my face because I felt really bad. But I didn’t want her to know that I felt sick. Then there was a white hot flash and I couldn't see. I put my hands up to my temples because it hurt so bad and fell to the floor. I couldn't move. And I started to scream a blood curdling scream. Then my mother was standing in front of me, shaking her finger at me like I'd been bad. She wouldn’t help me. I kept screaming because I needed help. Then it dawned on me that she probably wasn't real, just a hallucination brought on by a brain bleed or something. I felt hot tears running down my face because I began to think that maybe I wasn't even screaming. Maybe no one could hear me because the sound was in my head. Then my whole body started to shake uncontrollably. No one was coming to help me, and I was going to die in my own bathroom.
I’ve never in my life had such a disturbing dream. It felt so real! I actually thought that it was happening. The screaming was ear- piercing. The fear, the pain, it was all so vivid. When I woke up I was almost afraid to move. Where was I? Had it actually happened? Since my ears weren’t bleeding, I figured it had been a nightmare.
But knowing that won’t make it any easier to sleep tonight.
~ Tragic Tuyen
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Oh Little Venus, Dressed Up To Tease Us!
ECHOBELLY
"Venus wheel"
When the city comes alive,When the debonaire are like fire-flies,
See the social satire lives,
See them dance on their beauty at the wheel,
Wonder how it feels,
Wonder how it feels to be you.
Oh little venus,
Dressed up to tease us,
Locked in the room upstairs,
She's combing her hair,
Oh little venus,
Smells of the sweetest,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around,
Oh, oh.
In the honey-coated atmosphere,
Now it's new thighs, glam rides latest to gold,
With your hair and the sherbet dip that you taste,
Makes her lost in space,Beauty at the wheel,
Wonder how it feels,Wonder how it feels to be you.
Oh little venus,
Dressed up to tease us,
Locked in the room upstairs,
She's combing her hair,
Oh little venus,
Smells of the sweetest,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around.
Oh little venus,
Little little little little little venus,
Don't you know little venus,
Don't you know,Don't you know.
Oh little venus,
Dressed up to tease us,
Locked in the room upstairs,
She's combing her hair,
Oh little venus,
Smells of the sweetest,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around.
Oh little venus,
Sweet little venus,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around.
Echobelly was my most favourite band in highschool, and I'm just now rediscovering them. Check 'em out!
FREEDOM!! I am FREE! Tragic has finished her classes (actually finished them Friday afternoon, but needed time to decompress before even venturing near her arch enemy, the Sony Vaio computer.)
**Jumps Up And Down**
It’s almost Christmas! The Christmas spirit is finally upon me. I haven’t been excited like this, in, well, ever. It must be the nearness of graduation making me all giddy.
Here is the (academic) highlight of the Fall ‘04 semester, as far as I’m concerned. This is what my professor had to say about my presentation on good ol’ Vladimir Lenin:
CONTENT: (possible 20 points) 19
"Excellent presentation of Lenin, his life, influences and legacy. You were able to cover an amazing amount of relevant, well selected facts to present a very full picture of the man and his motivations. You demonstrated a very thorough knowledge of your subject. Excellent primary source material as well."
ORGANIZATION: (possible 20 points) 19
"Very well organized, comprehensive outline, and good use of time."
PRESENTATION: (possible 10 points) 10
"You did a great job. You seemed very comfortable and confident in front of the class, spoke clearly and articulately, and although you sped through a considerable amount of information, you didn’t convey a sense of being rushed. Excellent job."
Total: 48
I’m seriously considering framing this piece of paper. It’s a bit wrinkled because it got squished between my binder and "Documents In World History."
I’ve been dying to tell you all about what I had for lunch on Friday. My dad and I went to Sonny’s Vietnamese Restaurant for lunch. After the earlier exuberance of the day (no mas finals) I decided to be adventurous, and ordered the Barbecued quail for lunch. The quail comes to the table soaked in bacardi rum. Then the waiter lights the alcohol on fire, holds the quail between two spoons, and precedes to cook it at the table!!! I’m pleased to report that my adventurous spirit was rewarded on that day, as I enjoyed my quail very, very much.
I keep hearing from a certain politician that we are in an economic recovery. Really, are you sure about that? My neighborhood is beginning to look a lot like East Berlin after the Wall came down. Quite a few of the businesses near here have gone under.
When I was little, there was a restaurant called Niko’s almost right around the corner from my house. From the beginning of (my) time, Niko’s was there. He made the best pancakes in the history of pancake making. These pancakes were better than the ones at International House of Pancakes. They were better than the pancakes at Bill’s. They were even better than my mom’s!! (sorry mom) My dad would take me there on weekends before garage sales or trips to electronics stores. I’d always get the short stack and hot cocoa. Always.
Right around 6th grade though, Niko announced that he was closing up shop. He was getting old and tired, and his children did not want to inherit his business. So he sold it. The new owners were also Greek, and were going to keep the same menu with a few Greek items thrown in for good measure.
But it wasn’t the same. The pancakes just weren’t as good. Two, maybe three years later, they went out of business.
The next incarnation of the late, great Niko’s was a Clark’s Burger. It was sort of like a gourmet burger joint, and you really paid through the nose. A cheeseburger, fries, and shake could run you $15. This nice Asian family had bought this particular franchise and made a pretty successful go at it, especially considering that there was a McDonald’s right across the street. (A place where you could probably get the same lunch for under $5.) But sure enough, disaster struck. The Clark’s Burger franchise hit hard times, and closed several locations. The owners were given an option, they could close or keep going– but without the "Clark’s Burger" in their name. Never wanting to say die, that family kept going. Prices went up. Everytime we went there after they lost the franchise, the burgers always had a red middle. Every. Single. Time.
After they went out of business, the building sat empty. We began to wonder if anything would ever open in it’s place. It’s current incarnation is a coffee shop called Leo’s, specializing in all sorts of bland, over cooked foods that my grandmother likes. Around last Christmas, it closed for two months. ‘Another one bites the dust’, all we observers in the neighborhood thought. Strangely, however, it reopened in February. Then again, around Cinco de Mayo, it closed. The sign still says "Leo’s", yet not a soul has entered since then. It is a mystery.
Across the street, in another shopping center, it’s a similar story. Although there is a very successful Columbian restaurant in that plaza, others have not been so fortunate. At first, there was a Denny’s there. Denny’s lasted for awhile. It was there before my time, and lasted until I was 7 or so. You know if Denny’s can’t make it, anyone else is going to face a serious uphill battle.
Following the Denny’s, that location became home to a establishment known as the Honeycomb. The menu was Chinese and American (whatever that means nowadays.) That lasted for perhaps 4 or 5 years.
I don’t even remember what was there after the Honeycomb.
For the past 7 years the old Denny’s became home to Tina’s. Another one of those so- bland- you could- just die places. They had good hot cocoa and that was about it. The only thing I can figure is that all the inhabitants from the Old Folks home on the nearby hill patronised it often. Tina’s went out of business about months ago. My dad and have been very curious about what would be the next resident of a so far, doomed location.
We watched.
We waited.
A few weeks ago I saw a banner appear on the expressway side of the plaza, advertising the coming of "The Original Pancake House." I was intrigued, although I’d never heard of the chain. Today my dad and I went there, for lunch. It was the first day the place was open for business.
I decided on the Dutch Baby, my dad got the Apple Pancake. The Dutch Baby is a cake like pancake (I’m not kidding, very thick, like cake, and baked in the oven.) It comes with 3 lemon wedges, a saucer of butter, and a saucer of powdered sugar on the side. I’m not much of a butter girl, so I only used maybe a tablespoon. (I know that sounds like a lot but you have to see this pancake! It was bigger than my head!) Of course, remember who you’re reading here, I did use all of the powdered sugar. Also, I used two of the lemon wedges.
You know how some advertisements promise that a particular food will "melt in your mouth"? This is the heaven of the Dutch Baby, for it actually melted in my mouth! ‘Twas a wonderful dining meal: such yumminess is rarely had by Tragic!
Dutch Baby: Five Stars
Hope you all have full tummies!
~Tragic Tuyen
"Venus wheel"
When the city comes alive,When the debonaire are like fire-flies,
See the social satire lives,
See them dance on their beauty at the wheel,
Wonder how it feels,
Wonder how it feels to be you.
Oh little venus,
Dressed up to tease us,
Locked in the room upstairs,
She's combing her hair,
Oh little venus,
Smells of the sweetest,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around,
Oh, oh.
In the honey-coated atmosphere,
Now it's new thighs, glam rides latest to gold,
With your hair and the sherbet dip that you taste,
Makes her lost in space,Beauty at the wheel,
Wonder how it feels,Wonder how it feels to be you.
Oh little venus,
Dressed up to tease us,
Locked in the room upstairs,
She's combing her hair,
Oh little venus,
Smells of the sweetest,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around.
Oh little venus,
Little little little little little venus,
Don't you know little venus,
Don't you know,Don't you know.
Oh little venus,
Dressed up to tease us,
Locked in the room upstairs,
She's combing her hair,
Oh little venus,
Smells of the sweetest,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around.
Oh little venus,
Sweet little venus,
Dreams of his thunder thighs coming around.
Echobelly was my most favourite band in highschool, and I'm just now rediscovering them. Check 'em out!
FREEDOM!! I am FREE! Tragic has finished her classes (actually finished them Friday afternoon, but needed time to decompress before even venturing near her arch enemy, the Sony Vaio computer.)
**Jumps Up And Down**
It’s almost Christmas! The Christmas spirit is finally upon me. I haven’t been excited like this, in, well, ever. It must be the nearness of graduation making me all giddy.
Here is the (academic) highlight of the Fall ‘04 semester, as far as I’m concerned. This is what my professor had to say about my presentation on good ol’ Vladimir Lenin:
CONTENT: (possible 20 points) 19
"Excellent presentation of Lenin, his life, influences and legacy. You were able to cover an amazing amount of relevant, well selected facts to present a very full picture of the man and his motivations. You demonstrated a very thorough knowledge of your subject. Excellent primary source material as well."
ORGANIZATION: (possible 20 points) 19
"Very well organized, comprehensive outline, and good use of time."
PRESENTATION: (possible 10 points) 10
"You did a great job. You seemed very comfortable and confident in front of the class, spoke clearly and articulately, and although you sped through a considerable amount of information, you didn’t convey a sense of being rushed. Excellent job."
Total: 48
I’m seriously considering framing this piece of paper. It’s a bit wrinkled because it got squished between my binder and "Documents In World History."
I’ve been dying to tell you all about what I had for lunch on Friday. My dad and I went to Sonny’s Vietnamese Restaurant for lunch. After the earlier exuberance of the day (no mas finals) I decided to be adventurous, and ordered the Barbecued quail for lunch. The quail comes to the table soaked in bacardi rum. Then the waiter lights the alcohol on fire, holds the quail between two spoons, and precedes to cook it at the table!!! I’m pleased to report that my adventurous spirit was rewarded on that day, as I enjoyed my quail very, very much.
I keep hearing from a certain politician that we are in an economic recovery. Really, are you sure about that? My neighborhood is beginning to look a lot like East Berlin after the Wall came down. Quite a few of the businesses near here have gone under.
When I was little, there was a restaurant called Niko’s almost right around the corner from my house. From the beginning of (my) time, Niko’s was there. He made the best pancakes in the history of pancake making. These pancakes were better than the ones at International House of Pancakes. They were better than the pancakes at Bill’s. They were even better than my mom’s!! (sorry mom) My dad would take me there on weekends before garage sales or trips to electronics stores. I’d always get the short stack and hot cocoa. Always.
Right around 6th grade though, Niko announced that he was closing up shop. He was getting old and tired, and his children did not want to inherit his business. So he sold it. The new owners were also Greek, and were going to keep the same menu with a few Greek items thrown in for good measure.
But it wasn’t the same. The pancakes just weren’t as good. Two, maybe three years later, they went out of business.
The next incarnation of the late, great Niko’s was a Clark’s Burger. It was sort of like a gourmet burger joint, and you really paid through the nose. A cheeseburger, fries, and shake could run you $15. This nice Asian family had bought this particular franchise and made a pretty successful go at it, especially considering that there was a McDonald’s right across the street. (A place where you could probably get the same lunch for under $5.) But sure enough, disaster struck. The Clark’s Burger franchise hit hard times, and closed several locations. The owners were given an option, they could close or keep going– but without the "Clark’s Burger" in their name. Never wanting to say die, that family kept going. Prices went up. Everytime we went there after they lost the franchise, the burgers always had a red middle. Every. Single. Time.
After they went out of business, the building sat empty. We began to wonder if anything would ever open in it’s place. It’s current incarnation is a coffee shop called Leo’s, specializing in all sorts of bland, over cooked foods that my grandmother likes. Around last Christmas, it closed for two months. ‘Another one bites the dust’, all we observers in the neighborhood thought. Strangely, however, it reopened in February. Then again, around Cinco de Mayo, it closed. The sign still says "Leo’s", yet not a soul has entered since then. It is a mystery.
Across the street, in another shopping center, it’s a similar story. Although there is a very successful Columbian restaurant in that plaza, others have not been so fortunate. At first, there was a Denny’s there. Denny’s lasted for awhile. It was there before my time, and lasted until I was 7 or so. You know if Denny’s can’t make it, anyone else is going to face a serious uphill battle.
Following the Denny’s, that location became home to a establishment known as the Honeycomb. The menu was Chinese and American (whatever that means nowadays.) That lasted for perhaps 4 or 5 years.
I don’t even remember what was there after the Honeycomb.
For the past 7 years the old Denny’s became home to Tina’s. Another one of those so- bland- you could- just die places. They had good hot cocoa and that was about it. The only thing I can figure is that all the inhabitants from the Old Folks home on the nearby hill patronised it often. Tina’s went out of business about months ago. My dad and have been very curious about what would be the next resident of a so far, doomed location.
We watched.
We waited.
A few weeks ago I saw a banner appear on the expressway side of the plaza, advertising the coming of "The Original Pancake House." I was intrigued, although I’d never heard of the chain. Today my dad and I went there, for lunch. It was the first day the place was open for business.
I decided on the Dutch Baby, my dad got the Apple Pancake. The Dutch Baby is a cake like pancake (I’m not kidding, very thick, like cake, and baked in the oven.) It comes with 3 lemon wedges, a saucer of butter, and a saucer of powdered sugar on the side. I’m not much of a butter girl, so I only used maybe a tablespoon. (I know that sounds like a lot but you have to see this pancake! It was bigger than my head!) Of course, remember who you’re reading here, I did use all of the powdered sugar. Also, I used two of the lemon wedges.
You know how some advertisements promise that a particular food will "melt in your mouth"? This is the heaven of the Dutch Baby, for it actually melted in my mouth! ‘Twas a wonderful dining meal: such yumminess is rarely had by Tragic!
Dutch Baby: Five Stars
Hope you all have full tummies!
~Tragic Tuyen
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
What can I get for $3?
Trapped in a Box
No Doubt
(E. Stefani, T. Dumont, G. Stefani, T. Kanal)
Trapped in a box of tremendous size
It distorts my vision, it closes my eyes
Attracts filthy flies and pollutes in the skies
Sucks up our lives and proliferates lies
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box, four walls as sky
Got a screen for a window about two feet wide
My mind rides and slides as my circuits are fried
No room for thought, use the box as my guide
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To life’s paradox
We’re all trapped in a box
Trapped in a box I’m not alone
I know of others with a box as their home
Light only enters from a crack or a hole
This is not enough for a human to grow
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To life's paradox
We're all trapped in a box
Always wanting a different view
Instant gratification for you
Reality gone in a single click
Just hope that that switch won’t stick
Trapped in a box my life becomes void
All I thought for myself is now destroyed
Controlling my mind, what to eat, what to buy
Subliminal rules: how to live, how to die
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To life's paradox
We're all trapped in a box
I definitely felt like I was trapped in my freakin' computer yesterday. That's what I get for waiting till the last minute to write my paper for History 105A. Our professor, instead of giving us an old fashioned course reader-- on paper, decided to give it to us on a cd. Now, I'm sure you can all guess I'm not very tech savvy just by looking at my blog.
I couldn't get the freakin' thing to work on this computer. So I tried it in the laptop. It made all sorts or clackety clack racket when I put it in the drive. The, my laptop informed me that I first needed to install some new word processor on the laptop before I could look at the files. And before I could do that, I had to provide some 25 digit authentication code. All of that took an hour. When I finally was able to read the finals on my laptop, I only had three hours left for my paper. What a DISASTER! After all of that, I was definitely ready to smash my computer into smithereens and go Amish.
Today I was supposed to have lunch with my mom. Usually we have lunch on Tuesdays, but I had to reschedule yesterday after this computer and my laptop conspired to drive me insane. I woke up, laid in some new colour, deep conditioned my hair, showered, and prepared to face the world with impossible cute hair. (Which is only fair since I felt like a fat cow for most of yesterday.) Noon rolled around. 12:15.
Maybe she forgot?
So I called and she asked "Ohh. Did you get my message?" Sigh. No lunch for Tragic today. At least not anything yummy. I managed to round up $3, all in quarters, collected from coat pockets and piggy banks. Hmmm. McDonalds or Burger King? Which will it be?
I decided on Burger King.
There was a horde of teenagers in front of me, who seemed to be ordering enough to feed the infantry. When it was finally my turn to order, I chose a large fries and something called a rodeo cheeseburger. Now, I haven't had a burger in, literally, years. I admit that a rodeo cheeseburger sounds rather dubious, but it was only 99 cents. That's why I picked it. I paid my $3 and received a dime in change.
In case any one was wondering what a rodeo cheeseburger is, here ya go. It is a bun, a burger patty, cheese, barbecue sauce, and two onion rings. Hmm. I only 3/4 of it and half of my fries.
Tomorrow I have two finals.
Study of Religion: 7:15am - 9:45am
Ancient Near East: 12:00 - 2:45pm
Hope you all have full tummies!
~Tragic Tuyen
No Doubt
(E. Stefani, T. Dumont, G. Stefani, T. Kanal)
Trapped in a box of tremendous size
It distorts my vision, it closes my eyes
Attracts filthy flies and pollutes in the skies
Sucks up our lives and proliferates lies
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box, four walls as sky
Got a screen for a window about two feet wide
My mind rides and slides as my circuits are fried
No room for thought, use the box as my guide
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To life’s paradox
We’re all trapped in a box
Trapped in a box I’m not alone
I know of others with a box as their home
Light only enters from a crack or a hole
This is not enough for a human to grow
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To life's paradox
We're all trapped in a box
Always wanting a different view
Instant gratification for you
Reality gone in a single click
Just hope that that switch won’t stick
Trapped in a box my life becomes void
All I thought for myself is now destroyed
Controlling my mind, what to eat, what to buy
Subliminal rules: how to live, how to die
Trapped in a box
Trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To life's paradox
We're all trapped in a box
I definitely felt like I was trapped in my freakin' computer yesterday. That's what I get for waiting till the last minute to write my paper for History 105A. Our professor, instead of giving us an old fashioned course reader-- on paper, decided to give it to us on a cd. Now, I'm sure you can all guess I'm not very tech savvy just by looking at my blog.
I couldn't get the freakin' thing to work on this computer. So I tried it in the laptop. It made all sorts or clackety clack racket when I put it in the drive. The, my laptop informed me that I first needed to install some new word processor on the laptop before I could look at the files. And before I could do that, I had to provide some 25 digit authentication code. All of that took an hour. When I finally was able to read the finals on my laptop, I only had three hours left for my paper. What a DISASTER! After all of that, I was definitely ready to smash my computer into smithereens and go Amish.
Today I was supposed to have lunch with my mom. Usually we have lunch on Tuesdays, but I had to reschedule yesterday after this computer and my laptop conspired to drive me insane. I woke up, laid in some new colour, deep conditioned my hair, showered, and prepared to face the world with impossible cute hair. (Which is only fair since I felt like a fat cow for most of yesterday.) Noon rolled around. 12:15.
Maybe she forgot?
So I called and she asked "Ohh. Did you get my message?" Sigh. No lunch for Tragic today. At least not anything yummy. I managed to round up $3, all in quarters, collected from coat pockets and piggy banks. Hmmm. McDonalds or Burger King? Which will it be?
I decided on Burger King.
There was a horde of teenagers in front of me, who seemed to be ordering enough to feed the infantry. When it was finally my turn to order, I chose a large fries and something called a rodeo cheeseburger. Now, I haven't had a burger in, literally, years. I admit that a rodeo cheeseburger sounds rather dubious, but it was only 99 cents. That's why I picked it. I paid my $3 and received a dime in change.
In case any one was wondering what a rodeo cheeseburger is, here ya go. It is a bun, a burger patty, cheese, barbecue sauce, and two onion rings. Hmm. I only 3/4 of it and half of my fries.
Tomorrow I have two finals.
Study of Religion: 7:15am - 9:45am
Ancient Near East: 12:00 - 2:45pm
Hope you all have full tummies!
~Tragic Tuyen
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
I'm Fallin' Fast, Like an Avalanche
Big Distraction
NO DOUBT
(G. Stefani, T. Dumont)
Everything In Time
You're my concentration
Everything else is a bore
I've got myself snagged on you
No self-control now
All that I want to do
Sleep in the shadow of you
For the rest of my life
Now we can chisel
Chisel off built up walls
Of pain deposited from past lovers
Memories they can sleep
And we can live comfortably
For the rest of our lives
Wrong or right
Shipwrecked into you
Situation is foolish
Put up a fight
You're my big distraction
Obvious companion
I'm falling fast
Like an avalanche
Indentured servant
A slave to a slave
Thank God for my hopeful heart
and for mutual feelings
Look how it's balanced now
Maybe we'll just settle down
For the rest of our lives
Wrong or right
Shipwrecked into you
Situation is foolish
Put up a fight
You're my big distraction
Obvious companion
I'm falling fast
Like an avalanche
Look how it's balanced now
Maybe we'll just settle down
For the rest of our lives
Good evening to you , my worthy friends! How have you all been? I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted lately! Well, just so you know, I typed this all up last night only for blogger dot com to delete it all.
This weekend was spent typing up a 19 page paper for my writing workshop. In addition to those 19 pages, there were 5 pages or bibliography. As a nursing major, I took Health Professions 100W, which I got a B in. (Which, I may point out, was an academic success only surpassed [ in the nursing program, anyway] by the B+ I got in Nursing Theory.]) Anyway, one can imagine my disappointment when Dr. Roth, undergraduate advisor to we history majors, that I’d have to take History 100W.
Phuong told me that History 100W wasn’t worth worrying about to much. But she had sweet, wonderful Dr. Asnes.
I knew from the first day of class, back in the heat of August, that we were in for it. Lisa, Alexandro and I knew from day one this guy was going to be a hard ass. Through the whole semester, class only met 6 times. Six! He’s supposed to be teaching us how to write academic quality papers.
Originally, according to the green sheet, these were the point totals:
Class Participation: 20%
Primary Source Paper: 10%
First Draft: 10%
3 5-page book analyses: 15%
Final Paper: 45%
By our third class meeting in November, however, he changed the requirements. He made one book report extra credit, making the other two book reports worth 7.5%. I did all my work except for the analyses of Free Frank. But I never got any of that completed work back. I never got my first book analyses back, I never got my outline or primary source paragraph back, and I never even got my first draft back. All I got was a 3 sentence email saying: this paper is not sufficient to earn a passing grade in this class.
Fast forward to today. All we had to do today was turn in our final papers. Phuong and I were going to wait for Lisa and all go out for lunch. But Lisa called to say that she was running late. Kevin, Phuong’s crush of almost two years, had just turned in his own paper and stopped to chat with us in the hall. After almost half an hour of bitching about our professor and the way he ran the class, Phuong managed to very slyly invite him out for lunch with us. ("Hey, we’re going to Japanese food for lunch, right now, yeah..... if you wanted to come.... with us?)
Now, before Tony abandoned us for his bitchy, dyed red hair girlfriend, we would all sit around Phuong’s kitchen table, coronas in hand, and ponder this situation. (Phuong’s parents, like my dad, do not approve of the consumption of alcoholic beverages in the home, so we’d have to wait until the wee hours to crack open the bottles.) Almost a year ago, Phuong marshaled all of her courage, went up to Kevin, and asked him for his phone number.
And this is what he said.
"Well, I would say yes– but I’m in transition with someone right now, and don’t really comfortable doing that."
Here are some of the conclusions that our group has come to:
Lisa B.: He’s a racist! He must hate Asian chicks!
Tony: He’s a dumbass like Kelso! He’s Kelso from That 70's Show! An older, balding Kelso!
Donnie: He’s gay! He’s into dudes, man! That’s the problem!
Miraculously, the gay racist decided to come out with us. We walked to where Phuong parked, which was between one of the frat houses and one of the half way houses– the particular geography which make the neighbourhood around school so interesting.
I sat in the back seat so the two of them could chat. We went to Niko sushi, where one can eat all she can for only $9.95. Phuong treated me, which was really sweet of her. (And also very lucky. I didn’t have any cash on me because I haven’t had a chance to sell two of my books from 100W back to Roberts’.) I had a glass of water since lunch was on Phuong’s dime, lots of fried rice, those tempura veggies, and some sushi. It was quite yummy!
After we paid, we sat in out booth for at least another hour. Phuong and Kevin actually talked quite a bit. They talked about politics (which seemed rather a risky proposition to me so soon into whatever this is between them), music, the death penalty (re: Scott Peterson), the best way to double major, obtaining a teaching credential, and highschool.
I’m the wildest friend that Phuong has. Kevin mentioned that he had a purple mohawk in highschool.
"You had a mowhawk??" "Yeah, I had a mohawk in highschool" he restated.
"You had a mohawk!!!" She asked, astounded, once again. It is rather difficult to imagine, since he has lost some of the hair on top.
When Phuong got up to get us more tempura, he and I discussed the best techniques to obtaining the best height in one’s mohawk.
Kevin has two brothers. One of them is married, to a Mormon chick. They have three kids (so far anyway.) We got on the topic of kids names when Phuong sighed and said "It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m never going to marry or have any kids anyway. I’m always going to be alone." To which Kevin replied "Here goes Captain Negative again! You’re 23! You’ve got plenty of time! You’ve gotta just swallow your pride– put yourself out there! Don’t be afraid of rejection!" Then he got up to get more sushi.
Phuong turned to me and said real low "take a chance– put your self out there! What a bunch of crap! I did that already, or doesn’t he remember."
Lisa called Phuong on her cell right then. She wouldn’t be meeting us for lunch, but had some interesting news nevertheless!
Lisa had just turned in her final paper, and asked the professor from hell if she could turn in her book analyses late. (He takes Nancy Regan’s attitude toward late work ["Just Say NO!]) His answer was this:
"Well, I’m not really going to count any of the other work you guys did in class. What you get on this final paper will be your grade in class."
Excuse me..... WHAT? WHAT???
How does a paper jump from 45% to 100% of your grade? A green sheet is supposed to be the professors contract with the student. Damn him. Anyway, at least we can contest our final grades if he fails us.
Tired now! Must sleep. Will post part two tomorrow perhaps.
~Tragic
NO DOUBT
(G. Stefani, T. Dumont)
Everything In Time
You're my concentration
Everything else is a bore
I've got myself snagged on you
No self-control now
All that I want to do
Sleep in the shadow of you
For the rest of my life
Now we can chisel
Chisel off built up walls
Of pain deposited from past lovers
Memories they can sleep
And we can live comfortably
For the rest of our lives
Wrong or right
Shipwrecked into you
Situation is foolish
Put up a fight
You're my big distraction
Obvious companion
I'm falling fast
Like an avalanche
Indentured servant
A slave to a slave
Thank God for my hopeful heart
and for mutual feelings
Look how it's balanced now
Maybe we'll just settle down
For the rest of our lives
Wrong or right
Shipwrecked into you
Situation is foolish
Put up a fight
You're my big distraction
Obvious companion
I'm falling fast
Like an avalanche
Look how it's balanced now
Maybe we'll just settle down
For the rest of our lives
Good evening to you , my worthy friends! How have you all been? I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted lately! Well, just so you know, I typed this all up last night only for blogger dot com to delete it all.
This weekend was spent typing up a 19 page paper for my writing workshop. In addition to those 19 pages, there were 5 pages or bibliography. As a nursing major, I took Health Professions 100W, which I got a B in. (Which, I may point out, was an academic success only surpassed [ in the nursing program, anyway] by the B+ I got in Nursing Theory.]) Anyway, one can imagine my disappointment when Dr. Roth, undergraduate advisor to we history majors, that I’d have to take History 100W.
Phuong told me that History 100W wasn’t worth worrying about to much. But she had sweet, wonderful Dr. Asnes.
I knew from the first day of class, back in the heat of August, that we were in for it. Lisa, Alexandro and I knew from day one this guy was going to be a hard ass. Through the whole semester, class only met 6 times. Six! He’s supposed to be teaching us how to write academic quality papers.
Originally, according to the green sheet, these were the point totals:
Class Participation: 20%
Primary Source Paper: 10%
First Draft: 10%
3 5-page book analyses: 15%
Final Paper: 45%
By our third class meeting in November, however, he changed the requirements. He made one book report extra credit, making the other two book reports worth 7.5%. I did all my work except for the analyses of Free Frank. But I never got any of that completed work back. I never got my first book analyses back, I never got my outline or primary source paragraph back, and I never even got my first draft back. All I got was a 3 sentence email saying: this paper is not sufficient to earn a passing grade in this class.
Fast forward to today. All we had to do today was turn in our final papers. Phuong and I were going to wait for Lisa and all go out for lunch. But Lisa called to say that she was running late. Kevin, Phuong’s crush of almost two years, had just turned in his own paper and stopped to chat with us in the hall. After almost half an hour of bitching about our professor and the way he ran the class, Phuong managed to very slyly invite him out for lunch with us. ("Hey, we’re going to Japanese food for lunch, right now, yeah..... if you wanted to come.... with us?)
Now, before Tony abandoned us for his bitchy, dyed red hair girlfriend, we would all sit around Phuong’s kitchen table, coronas in hand, and ponder this situation. (Phuong’s parents, like my dad, do not approve of the consumption of alcoholic beverages in the home, so we’d have to wait until the wee hours to crack open the bottles.) Almost a year ago, Phuong marshaled all of her courage, went up to Kevin, and asked him for his phone number.
And this is what he said.
"Well, I would say yes– but I’m in transition with someone right now, and don’t really comfortable doing that."
Here are some of the conclusions that our group has come to:
Lisa B.: He’s a racist! He must hate Asian chicks!
Tony: He’s a dumbass like Kelso! He’s Kelso from That 70's Show! An older, balding Kelso!
Donnie: He’s gay! He’s into dudes, man! That’s the problem!
Miraculously, the gay racist decided to come out with us. We walked to where Phuong parked, which was between one of the frat houses and one of the half way houses– the particular geography which make the neighbourhood around school so interesting.
I sat in the back seat so the two of them could chat. We went to Niko sushi, where one can eat all she can for only $9.95. Phuong treated me, which was really sweet of her. (And also very lucky. I didn’t have any cash on me because I haven’t had a chance to sell two of my books from 100W back to Roberts’.) I had a glass of water since lunch was on Phuong’s dime, lots of fried rice, those tempura veggies, and some sushi. It was quite yummy!
After we paid, we sat in out booth for at least another hour. Phuong and Kevin actually talked quite a bit. They talked about politics (which seemed rather a risky proposition to me so soon into whatever this is between them), music, the death penalty (re: Scott Peterson), the best way to double major, obtaining a teaching credential, and highschool.
I’m the wildest friend that Phuong has. Kevin mentioned that he had a purple mohawk in highschool.
"You had a mowhawk??" "Yeah, I had a mohawk in highschool" he restated.
"You had a mohawk!!!" She asked, astounded, once again. It is rather difficult to imagine, since he has lost some of the hair on top.
When Phuong got up to get us more tempura, he and I discussed the best techniques to obtaining the best height in one’s mohawk.
Kevin has two brothers. One of them is married, to a Mormon chick. They have three kids (so far anyway.) We got on the topic of kids names when Phuong sighed and said "It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m never going to marry or have any kids anyway. I’m always going to be alone." To which Kevin replied "Here goes Captain Negative again! You’re 23! You’ve got plenty of time! You’ve gotta just swallow your pride– put yourself out there! Don’t be afraid of rejection!" Then he got up to get more sushi.
Phuong turned to me and said real low "take a chance– put your self out there! What a bunch of crap! I did that already, or doesn’t he remember."
Lisa called Phuong on her cell right then. She wouldn’t be meeting us for lunch, but had some interesting news nevertheless!
Lisa had just turned in her final paper, and asked the professor from hell if she could turn in her book analyses late. (He takes Nancy Regan’s attitude toward late work ["Just Say NO!]) His answer was this:
"Well, I’m not really going to count any of the other work you guys did in class. What you get on this final paper will be your grade in class."
Excuse me..... WHAT? WHAT???
How does a paper jump from 45% to 100% of your grade? A green sheet is supposed to be the professors contract with the student. Damn him. Anyway, at least we can contest our final grades if he fails us.
Tired now! Must sleep. Will post part two tomorrow perhaps.
~Tragic
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Finals!
Here is my Final Schedule:
African History (Before 1800): December 14- 5:15pm- 7:30pm
Study of Religion: December 16- 7:15am- 9:30am
Ancient Near East: December 16- 12:15pm- 2:30
History 1A: December 17- 7:15am- 9:30am
History 1B: December 17- 9:45am- 12:45pm
African History (Before 1800): December 14- 5:15pm- 7:30pm
Study of Religion: December 16- 7:15am- 9:30am
Ancient Near East: December 16- 12:15pm- 2:30
History 1A: December 17- 7:15am- 9:30am
History 1B: December 17- 9:45am- 12:45pm
This just in!!
No Doubt has been nominated in the Best Pop Performance By A Duo Or Group category for "It's My Life" from The Singles 1992-2003 collection.
Gwen was also nominated in the Best Female Pop Performance category for her debut single "What You Waiting For?". The awards ceremony will take place on Sunday, February 13th, at the Staples Center in Los Angeles and will be broadcast live on CBS from 8 – 11:30 p.m. (EST/PST).
Also, congratulations to Jacques Lu Cont who has been nominated for Best Remixed Recording for his Thin White Duke Mix of "It's My Life" and to Toots & The Maytals who have been nominated for Best Reggae Album for True Love which features No Doubt on the track "Monkey Man".
CONGRATULATIONS to NO DOUBT!!
Gwen was also nominated in the Best Female Pop Performance category for her debut single "What You Waiting For?". The awards ceremony will take place on Sunday, February 13th, at the Staples Center in Los Angeles and will be broadcast live on CBS from 8 – 11:30 p.m. (EST/PST).
Also, congratulations to Jacques Lu Cont who has been nominated for Best Remixed Recording for his Thin White Duke Mix of "It's My Life" and to Toots & The Maytals who have been nominated for Best Reggae Album for True Love which features No Doubt on the track "Monkey Man".
CONGRATULATIONS to NO DOUBT!!
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
"Life is Short, You're Capable"
How was everyone's Thanksgiving? Mine was fine. I got a super late start on the pumpkin pies though. Even though it's always been my responsibility since I was 10 or so to make the pies, I don't know the recipe as well as one might assume I did. You know where I'm going with this, don't you?
I put the sugar in first, then the eggs, then the milk. But as I scanned down the recipe I realised my mistake. I'd used white sugar instead of brown sugar. Oops! I tried fishing out the white sugar with a spoon but it was dissolving too fast. Since it was so late, it wasn't like I could go back to the grocery store and buy more ingrediants. Maybe it was the fatigue setting in, but I decided the best solution to the problem was to add the proper amount of brown sugar. So instead of one and a cups of sugar, I had twice that. I crossed my fingers and hoped no one would notice. Why I thought I could pull this off, I have no clue. I once accidently used a half a tablespoon of cinnamon instead of one tablespoon, and my grandma noticed.
Thanksgiving dinner went well. No one really noticed the extra sugar in the pies, thankfully. We had all the usual foods, turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, stuffing, string beans, etc. My entire life, I have heard my grandmother say "This is the LAST year I'm making the cranberry salad!" Yet every year, there it is. I don't touch the stuff myself. Her cranberry salad never seems to hold the shape of the jello mold. Usually this isn't a big deal.
Unless, of course, my grandma's sister comes to dinner. Then all Hell breaks lose. My great-aunt swears it's the same recipe. Yet, by some miracle of physics, only my grandma's cranberry salad refuses to hold its shape. Somehow the structural integrity of the cranberry salad **inevitably** fails.
What all the fuss is about is beyond me. Bleh!! There should not be a dessert featuring cranberries. Ick!
Four years ago, I invited my then-boyfriend to our families Thanksgiving dinner. I had my doubts about the quality of this idea. Why the hell would I take such a finicky vegetarian to my family's dinner? He had everything that was meat free. On the way to his family's dinner in Placerville, he had the nerve to complain about my grandma's cooking. "Who puts olives in stuffing??" he bitched the whole way there. 'Excuse me?' I thought, 'You don't even know how to scramble eggs.' Hmf!! After one of the longest drives in my entire life-- he had a habit of whistling off key to whatever music was on-- we finally made it to his sister's house. They had kept some plates warm for us, which was sweet.
But imagine my horror when I took the tin foil off my plate. The dressing looked rather peculiar to me, but I was determined to be a better sport than he had been at my family's dinner. I took a bite, and to my horror, tasted cranberries! Eew!! I slowly worked at what suddenly became a Mt. Everest sized mound of stuffing-- chock full or cherries and cranberries.
The next day, on the way home I couldn't help myself. "Who the HELL puts cherries and cranberries in stuffing!?" I asked, voice full of disdain.
I put the sugar in first, then the eggs, then the milk. But as I scanned down the recipe I realised my mistake. I'd used white sugar instead of brown sugar. Oops! I tried fishing out the white sugar with a spoon but it was dissolving too fast. Since it was so late, it wasn't like I could go back to the grocery store and buy more ingrediants. Maybe it was the fatigue setting in, but I decided the best solution to the problem was to add the proper amount of brown sugar. So instead of one and a cups of sugar, I had twice that. I crossed my fingers and hoped no one would notice. Why I thought I could pull this off, I have no clue. I once accidently used a half a tablespoon of cinnamon instead of one tablespoon, and my grandma noticed.
Thanksgiving dinner went well. No one really noticed the extra sugar in the pies, thankfully. We had all the usual foods, turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, stuffing, string beans, etc. My entire life, I have heard my grandmother say "This is the LAST year I'm making the cranberry salad!" Yet every year, there it is. I don't touch the stuff myself. Her cranberry salad never seems to hold the shape of the jello mold. Usually this isn't a big deal.
Unless, of course, my grandma's sister comes to dinner. Then all Hell breaks lose. My great-aunt swears it's the same recipe. Yet, by some miracle of physics, only my grandma's cranberry salad refuses to hold its shape. Somehow the structural integrity of the cranberry salad **inevitably** fails.
What all the fuss is about is beyond me. Bleh!! There should not be a dessert featuring cranberries. Ick!
Four years ago, I invited my then-boyfriend to our families Thanksgiving dinner. I had my doubts about the quality of this idea. Why the hell would I take such a finicky vegetarian to my family's dinner? He had everything that was meat free. On the way to his family's dinner in Placerville, he had the nerve to complain about my grandma's cooking. "Who puts olives in stuffing??" he bitched the whole way there. 'Excuse me?' I thought, 'You don't even know how to scramble eggs.' Hmf!! After one of the longest drives in my entire life-- he had a habit of whistling off key to whatever music was on-- we finally made it to his sister's house. They had kept some plates warm for us, which was sweet.
But imagine my horror when I took the tin foil off my plate. The dressing looked rather peculiar to me, but I was determined to be a better sport than he had been at my family's dinner. I took a bite, and to my horror, tasted cranberries! Eew!! I slowly worked at what suddenly became a Mt. Everest sized mound of stuffing-- chock full or cherries and cranberries.
The next day, on the way home I couldn't help myself. "Who the HELL puts cherries and cranberries in stuffing!?" I asked, voice full of disdain.
**Tragic Tuyen
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
**bleh**
For the past two days I've had the same headache. It keeps getting worse and worse. I can't help but wonder if I can suffer permanent brain damage from something like this. I haven't had a headache since the least doozy that got me back in July. **bleh**
My dad gave me a flexeril, since I don't have any of my own. I broke it in half though because I have classes tomorrow. One flexeril will knock me out for like 18 hours. Plus, I have a quiz tomorrow.
At LEAST I got my paper on Lenin done over the weekend. I feel nauseated. My parents gave me bad DNA.
take care, gentle readers. <3 Tragic
My dad gave me a flexeril, since I don't have any of my own. I broke it in half though because I have classes tomorrow. One flexeril will knock me out for like 18 hours. Plus, I have a quiz tomorrow.
At LEAST I got my paper on Lenin done over the weekend. I feel nauseated. My parents gave me bad DNA.
take care, gentle readers. <3 Tragic
Monday, November 15, 2004
Little Update
It's been awhile since I've posted. I've been absolutely drowning in school work and can't wait for this semester to be over. I've written four papers so far this semester, and I've got five more to write. Yikes. I'm going to have to buy a new ink cartridge for the printer. Not only that but I was looking at all my green sheets earlier this semester and I've got 4 finals on one day!! Hopefully I can pity one of my professors into taking one another day. According to University regulations, a student may not take more than three finals on one day anyway. Hope every one is well.
<3 Tragic
<3 Tragic
Sunday, October 31, 2004
It's Not So Bad, Being Dead Like Me.
One more hour left of Halloween. When I was a kid I loved my birthday, but I think most kids do.
Got back around 9pm after having dinner with my friends. The time change is screwing with us. Phuong's birthday present to me was a sack full of groceries-- ice cream, soup, rice-a-roni, etc. She said "I was trying to think-- what does she need....what does she need? And then I though, *duh* she needs food 'cuz she's always sick." We were supposed to get Japanese food, but most of us were too poor to do that. So instead, we went to some place called something like "Sweet Tomato". It wasn't bad. While we were there my side started to hurt again. I just tried to hold as still as possible.
Phuong treated me because it was my birthday. There were tons of little kids there, for some reason. Hello? Why aren't you guys out getting candy? All those kids were making so much noise that, even though they were clear across the restaurant we could hear tehir shrieks. Being a Vietnamese speaker herself, Phuong recognised their language.
"Jesus, that must be the battle cry of the Viet Cong!" Phuong said as she craned her neck about, trying to get a good look at the hell raisers.
We all started cracking up at that. "I feel like yelling at them like my Grandpa used to! He was sooo scary! He'd yell at us in Vietnamese 'Shut up, you little Satans!'" Then she said in Vietnamese too, at which point, Adrian proclaimed it to be the scariest sounding Vietnamese phrase he'e ever heard.
We got back to our meals and were talking about Tony and Lara (hand to god I didn't bring those two up.) See, Tony owes Phuong $64 for the baseball game on Sept. 14, and he owes me $10 from when we all saw "The Village." As we were talking this older lady walked by and quitely said something to me, and I quietly thanked her.
Adrian asked me what she said because he hadnt heard. "Oh, she said that she liked my costume." Lisa, Phuong, and Adrian busted out laughing. Adrian actually almost squirted his soda through his nose. Phuong was laughing so hard that she was almost crying. "I can catch her if you want me to, man! I got your back. She's moving pretty slow..." Adrian managed to get out between laughs.
See, this time of year is always tricky. There are always all these well meaning people who tell me that they like my costume, which is sweet. Yet in actuality, this is just the way I dress all the time. For example, on Tuesday, this middle aged African American lady stopped me on my way to Ancient Near East studies and told me that she loved my costume and then asked "What are you supposed to be?" When presented with situations like these, I have two general responses. The first is to thanks the person for the compliment on my "costume" and walk on. The second is to say "Ohhh..... this is just how I dress, like, all the time." The second response tends to fluster people and then they start apologising or whatever. I chose response #2 for the lady who stopped me at school. She stopped walking, looked at me quizzically and said "But... you hair... it's pink!" To which I responded that I'd had it this color since October 2002 (for the Rock Steady Tour, if you must know.) After that she just said "Well, you look very nice, dear" and walked away in the other direction.
After we left the restaurant, Phuong drove me home. Adrian and Lisa had been to some big party on Saturday night, and were still worn out. Lisa was hung over, but Adrian was just tired. He can't drink for along time anyway because he hurt his liver or something. Phuong had gone on a quasi- date with her crush of 2 years on Santa Cruz last night. So while everyone was out having a blast on Saturday night, I was home. Odd girl out. Anyway, on my birthday I was home by 9pm, give or take.
I can't help but feel like a younger, punkier version of Bridget Jones. Maybe I just should have stayed home anyway, not gone out at all, and just cried into my vanilla vodka (a little tiny bottle like the kind they used to give out on airplanes-- except I paid $2.75 for this at Beverages & More up in Oakland.) I wanted to go the anti social route. But, I have been far too much like Ada Monroe in "Cold Mountain" lately.
"Her thoughts had been broody and morbid and excessively retrospective for so long that she welcomed the chance to run counter to that flow, to cast forward and think about the future, even though she expected to see nothing but water at the bottom of that well." ("Cold Mountain" by Charles Frazier, p. 48.)
Let's see. Broody? check. Morbid? check. Excessively retrospective? check. In the immortal words of Nelly Furtado "It's not that my glass is empty/ I just need another cup."
And yet, I guess I just haven't given up quite yet. Even though fate and change keep slapping me in the face, maybe I, like Ada want to run counter to that flow. Maybe I just prefer to hide my hopefullness under my cloak of doom and gloom. Maybe it's just a reaction to being alone for so much of the day-- day after day.
I don't know.
"She could read such books and a day later not know what they had been about. When she had read more notable books, the harsh fates of their heroines only served to deepen her gloom. For a time, every book she plucked from the shelves frightened her, their contents all concerning mistakes made by wretched dark- haired women so that they ended their days punished, exiled, and alien." (Frazier, p. 35.)
Alien? check. Exiled? sort of. Punished? Let's hope not.
Happy Halloween, Tragic Tuyen
Got back around 9pm after having dinner with my friends. The time change is screwing with us. Phuong's birthday present to me was a sack full of groceries-- ice cream, soup, rice-a-roni, etc. She said "I was trying to think-- what does she need....what does she need? And then I though, *duh* she needs food 'cuz she's always sick." We were supposed to get Japanese food, but most of us were too poor to do that. So instead, we went to some place called something like "Sweet Tomato". It wasn't bad. While we were there my side started to hurt again. I just tried to hold as still as possible.
Phuong treated me because it was my birthday. There were tons of little kids there, for some reason. Hello? Why aren't you guys out getting candy? All those kids were making so much noise that, even though they were clear across the restaurant we could hear tehir shrieks. Being a Vietnamese speaker herself, Phuong recognised their language.
"Jesus, that must be the battle cry of the Viet Cong!" Phuong said as she craned her neck about, trying to get a good look at the hell raisers.
We all started cracking up at that. "I feel like yelling at them like my Grandpa used to! He was sooo scary! He'd yell at us in Vietnamese 'Shut up, you little Satans!'" Then she said in Vietnamese too, at which point, Adrian proclaimed it to be the scariest sounding Vietnamese phrase he'e ever heard.
We got back to our meals and were talking about Tony and Lara (hand to god I didn't bring those two up.) See, Tony owes Phuong $64 for the baseball game on Sept. 14, and he owes me $10 from when we all saw "The Village." As we were talking this older lady walked by and quitely said something to me, and I quietly thanked her.
Adrian asked me what she said because he hadnt heard. "Oh, she said that she liked my costume." Lisa, Phuong, and Adrian busted out laughing. Adrian actually almost squirted his soda through his nose. Phuong was laughing so hard that she was almost crying. "I can catch her if you want me to, man! I got your back. She's moving pretty slow..." Adrian managed to get out between laughs.
See, this time of year is always tricky. There are always all these well meaning people who tell me that they like my costume, which is sweet. Yet in actuality, this is just the way I dress all the time. For example, on Tuesday, this middle aged African American lady stopped me on my way to Ancient Near East studies and told me that she loved my costume and then asked "What are you supposed to be?" When presented with situations like these, I have two general responses. The first is to thanks the person for the compliment on my "costume" and walk on. The second is to say "Ohhh..... this is just how I dress, like, all the time." The second response tends to fluster people and then they start apologising or whatever. I chose response #2 for the lady who stopped me at school. She stopped walking, looked at me quizzically and said "But... you hair... it's pink!" To which I responded that I'd had it this color since October 2002 (for the Rock Steady Tour, if you must know.) After that she just said "Well, you look very nice, dear" and walked away in the other direction.
After we left the restaurant, Phuong drove me home. Adrian and Lisa had been to some big party on Saturday night, and were still worn out. Lisa was hung over, but Adrian was just tired. He can't drink for along time anyway because he hurt his liver or something. Phuong had gone on a quasi- date with her crush of 2 years on Santa Cruz last night. So while everyone was out having a blast on Saturday night, I was home. Odd girl out. Anyway, on my birthday I was home by 9pm, give or take.
I can't help but feel like a younger, punkier version of Bridget Jones. Maybe I just should have stayed home anyway, not gone out at all, and just cried into my vanilla vodka (a little tiny bottle like the kind they used to give out on airplanes-- except I paid $2.75 for this at Beverages & More up in Oakland.) I wanted to go the anti social route. But, I have been far too much like Ada Monroe in "Cold Mountain" lately.
"Her thoughts had been broody and morbid and excessively retrospective for so long that she welcomed the chance to run counter to that flow, to cast forward and think about the future, even though she expected to see nothing but water at the bottom of that well." ("Cold Mountain" by Charles Frazier, p. 48.)
Let's see. Broody? check. Morbid? check. Excessively retrospective? check. In the immortal words of Nelly Furtado "It's not that my glass is empty/ I just need another cup."
And yet, I guess I just haven't given up quite yet. Even though fate and change keep slapping me in the face, maybe I, like Ada want to run counter to that flow. Maybe I just prefer to hide my hopefullness under my cloak of doom and gloom. Maybe it's just a reaction to being alone for so much of the day-- day after day.
I don't know.
"She could read such books and a day later not know what they had been about. When she had read more notable books, the harsh fates of their heroines only served to deepen her gloom. For a time, every book she plucked from the shelves frightened her, their contents all concerning mistakes made by wretched dark- haired women so that they ended their days punished, exiled, and alien." (Frazier, p. 35.)
Alien? check. Exiled? sort of. Punished? Let's hope not.
Happy Halloween, Tragic Tuyen
Monday, October 25, 2004
What will it take?
My birthday is coming up. I'm a Halloween baby. I've been secretly dreading this particular birthday because of one reason-- my ex-boyfriend. In the five and a half years that we were together, I never got a birthday card, Christmas card, or Valentine's card.
What did I find in my mail box today? Eight months after I broke up with him?? I didn't open it, but I assume it was a birthday card. Here's the kicker-- it was taped to some old card I sent him back in 2000. Probably some twisted attempt to get me back. But I've been free of him for too long to go back now. Besides, why would I?
What will it take for him to leave me alone? How much longer do I have to worry everytime I hear a loud noise outside, or hear the door bell ring? How many more abusive/ suicidal e-mails will I have to get from him before he gets it?!? Christ, it's been 8 months!!!
I wasn't allowed to hang out with my own friends outside of school for the whole time I was with him. When I made really good friends, (such as Phuong and Lisa) after we broke up, I used to joke with them. Well, sort of. I used to say that if anything ever happened to me, if I ever just disappeared, that they should tell the police it was my ex-boyfriend. The sad thing was that I actually meant it.
<3 tragic tuyen
What did I find in my mail box today? Eight months after I broke up with him?? I didn't open it, but I assume it was a birthday card. Here's the kicker-- it was taped to some old card I sent him back in 2000. Probably some twisted attempt to get me back. But I've been free of him for too long to go back now. Besides, why would I?
What will it take for him to leave me alone? How much longer do I have to worry everytime I hear a loud noise outside, or hear the door bell ring? How many more abusive/ suicidal e-mails will I have to get from him before he gets it?!? Christ, it's been 8 months!!!
I wasn't allowed to hang out with my own friends outside of school for the whole time I was with him. When I made really good friends, (such as Phuong and Lisa) after we broke up, I used to joke with them. Well, sort of. I used to say that if anything ever happened to me, if I ever just disappeared, that they should tell the police it was my ex-boyfriend. The sad thing was that I actually meant it.
<3 tragic tuyen
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Napoleon and Bronislaw will have their revenge!
SOMETIMES
No Doubt(T. Dumont, G. Stefani, E. Stefani, T. Kanal)
No Doubt (1992)
Sometimes sunshine
Does not want to shine on me
And sometimes I find myself blind
At first I cannot see and then I see it's me
I chose a road when I was young
In search of fun temptations won
And all my soul I did surrender
If I had a chance to back now
Would I redeem my moral vows
Or would I repeat for my own laughter
Sometimes I hide somewhat
Like a bulb behind a shade
And sometimes I ask myself why
Is it cause the lights are too bright
Or because my eyes are closed too tight
Sometimes I find myself blind
Don't use my brain don't use my mind
Distorted feelings always leading my way
But I must forgive myself
And let the past lay down to rest
And be prepared to face myself in another day
From now on I will behave
But in the back of my mind I will be enslaved
I was just thinking to myself how exhasting it is to go to all my classes-- and then I realised that I actually missed Study of Religion on Monday morning. I did make it to Ancient Near East class though, where I finally turned in my thesis and bibliography a week late. Monday night I re-pinked my hair and added teeny tiny little purple highlights in the blonde highlights. Also I frantically studied for my two map midterms on Tuesday morning. The only way I could come up with to study them was to actually trace them and add all the cities and empires with colored pencils.
When Tuesday morning came I felt the weight of impending academic doom. I crawled out from under my covers and peered out the window. It was a downpour outside and it still looked like night time. The sun was hiding behind the massive black rain clouds. Wearing thermals under my red and black bondage pants, long sleeves, a sweater, and my green jacket with the faux fur lining around the hood which makes me look like a pink haired eskimo. To brighten up the dark morning, I also pinned in a tangerine colored flower in my hair amongst the blonde sections. (It doesn't look as tacky as it sounds! I *promise*!) I couldn't find my zebra print umbrella or my red plaid umbrella. So I had to take a plain old black one. Hmf. I opened the front door and was greeted by an icy wind. Sincerely doubting that both of my midterms would be called on account of stormy weather, I patted my dog on the head and yanked the front door closed against the winter. When I got to school, the downpour had turned into a monsoon. The cold rain was assaulting me from every direction. By the time I got to class, I was soaked from the knee down. I did see one other girl worse off than me though. She was wearing.... get ready, shorts and flip flops and a short sleeve shirt. Damn, what weather report did she see?
There were 10 maps we had to know, and 4 would be on the test. The 4 which were on the test for World History 1A: The Empires of Southwest Asia and North East Africa (1570- 1250 B.C.E.), Ashoka's Empire in India (250 B.C.E.), Persian/ Peloponessian Wars (480- 479 B.C.E.), and Classical Shang China (1800- 1025 B.C.E.) The One that was most difficult for me was the Persian/ Peloponessian Wars maps. The other three were actually pretty easy. On the Empires map, though, I was frantically trying to remember which river was the Euphrates and which was the Tigris. I changed my answers back and forth twice but I think I got it right. The Tigris is farther East, is what I remembered, so here's hoping.
In World History 1B the map selection was as follows: Spanish and Portuguese Conquest in the New World (1492- 1550), Reformation Europe, Asian Empires (1300- 1700), and The Empire of Napoleon in Europe (1812). I breezed through the first three easily enough.
But, wait just a sec! Napoleon! Sh*t! I was completely dumbfounded. Thankfully, it wasn't just a fill in the blank kind of map. There was a bank of geographical terms to choose from. That sinking feeling slowly returned. I used to get it all the time in Organic Chem and Inorganic Chem (the two classes which are responsible for me not having a 3.5 gpa.)
Sigh.
Waterloo? Austerlitz? Marengo? Freakin' Napoleon, man. Screwing wth people from beyond the grave. I'm pretty sure the only two I got right were the Illyrian Provinces and Trafalgar.
My Mom drove up from Hollister so that we could have lunch. We went to Hukilau in Japantown. It's a Hawaiian themed restaurant smack dab in the middle of the biggest concentration of Japanese restaurants in town. I ordered a fruit punch, spam musubu, and the hukilau chicken special. My mom and I shared the spam musubu. What that is-- I know it sounds strange but you've really gotta trust me and take a leap of faith here-- spam surrounded my steamed rice and held together by that seaweed paper stuff. It's like sushi-- but with spam in the middle. That's the closest my mother will ever come to eating sushi. I was pretty much full after the appetizer so I brought my chicken home. They give you so much food at Hukilau-- a bunch of marinated chicken, macaroni salad, two scoops of steamed rice, and noodles. See, lots! Anyway, I ended up bringing back almost all of my food. Maybe I'll have it tonight if I get hungry enough.
As we were leaving the restaurant, the rain stopped and the sun came out a little. But it was still hella windy. When we got back to my mom's car, I realised my brand new flower was gone. (Not a real flower, a fake one made from fabric but still quite pretty.) I back tracked three blocks, scouring the streets and side walks. All the trees on Jackson Street were losing their leaves because of the wind-- burnt orange leaves falling and swirling about around me. Almost all the way back to Hukilau I spooted my flower. It was in the gutter, sitting atop a pile of leaves and hadn't gotten muddy at all. I crossed the street rather suddenly, crouched behind the car and fetched my flower. Apparently, the driver of the car didn't know I was there because he started up and nearly reversed his car right over me.
Later on in the afternoon I had to make my way back to SJSU for my Africa before 1800 class. Since I've been sorta sick on and off I've missed quite a few classes. Walking down the hall of Dudley Morehead Hall I was gripped with the anxiety I hadn't had since I was a freshman, lo those many years ago. I stuck my pink head in class after class, looking for familiar faces. Finally I found my destination. Danh, mi amigo, informed me that we had a test next week and that we'd also got out first tests back. Africa class goes from 6pm to 8:45. We get our break around 7pm. Even though I told him he didn't need to, he ventured out into the rain to make me copied of his notes for the days that I'd missed. Dr. Kline gave me back my map quiz and my midterm. I got a perfect score on the map quiz. When I got back to my seat, though, I looked at my midterm. I'd earned a perfect score on the essay but missed a few on the multiple choice portion. I added up the two number and got... a 68?! Wait a minute, a D?
How could I get a D? History is supposed to be what I'm good at. I meekly folded my test and put it my back pack.
We had a documentary to watch during the second portion of class. Remember when I said that I wasn't going to bitch to my friends about feeling sick anymore? Well I've been holding to that. Telling Lisa and Danh that I'm perfectly fine-- just trying to get over a pesky cough. Well, during the movie I leaned back in my desk and felt that horrible *pop* on my left side. 'oh no.' When I moved one more time, trying to get comfy it happened again. So I decided that I just wouldn't move anymore during class. I was looking at my professor, pen in hand when it happened. Everything got really bright and my hands went numb, and I dropped my pen. This must be what people mean when they say "seeing stars." I felt really light headed- all I "saw" was whiteness. It didn't last very long and when it was over, I leaned over to grab my pen.
When I got home I recalculated my midterm grade and came up with 88. Relief! Somehow I'd misplaced 20 points in my first calculation. I can cope with a B+. Getting home at 8:45 pm makes it tough to get going on other projects/ papers. Nevertheless, I had to write a paper and speech about Bronislaw Malinowki. I'd gotten my library books on Sunday but they only had three of the six books they were supposed to have by Malinowski. The paper had to be anywhere from 6- 10 pages. Usually I'm one of those annoying people who will always have the maximum number of pages allowable for my paper. But this paper was very challenging for me to write.
I was already tired when I started my paper. But by 3am, I'd only written in Bibliography and four and a half pages of the body. There was no way I could keep going. Every sentence was an uphill struggle. I was sitting in this very same, slightly uncomfortable office chair pecking one key at a time. I was mispelling "the"! So I decided to call it quits. At 3:45 or so, I limped back to bed with my loyal dog trailing behind me. I set my alarm clock for 7am so I could finish my paper.
Wednesday morning came far too early. Imanaged to pound out some sort of conclusion for my last page of the paper and sped to school so as not to be late for my speech. Half way to class, I realised that I'd forgotten my umbrella. I contemplated going back for it, but then I'd be late for class and therefore my speech. Swearing under my breath, I walked to class and hoped that the dark gray sky wouldn't open up and drench me. With each inhalation the cold air hurt my nose and chest. By the time I get to the Business Building, my nose is running.
Usually when students have to do speeches, the teacher will talk to the class first. You know, warm up the audience so to speak. Not so with Prof. Jochim. He just handed the class over to me at 9am *sharp*. With my notes and three books in hand, I shakily walked to the front of the class. My speech was supposed to be 15 minutes-- at least. I had no idea how I was going to fill up so much time. But I managed to talk for at least 18 minutes. After mentioning "The Coral Gardens," "The Argonauts of the Western Pacific," and "The Father In Primitive Psychology," and writing certain names and key phrases on the whiteboard, I was done.
But then Prof. Jochim asked if there were any questions.
In the back row, this really smart ass student raised his hand. He's a talker. He's like that Dr. Benton character on "ER", except he's got slightly bigger hair. He started out by asking me "Define the holistic approach in regards to Malinowski's thesis......" and then he kept talking. And talking. I couldn't even keep up with what he was asking me.
As I stood there, in front of 20 people who I barely knew, time seemed to slow down. I knew, somewhere in my mind, that this moment couldn't last forever. He couldn't keep talking forever, at some point he would have to stop to breathe. I was standing below the metal attachement for the projection screen. Watching his mouth move, forming ever more complicated questions, I began to pray for it to fall and hit me on the head. I mean, accidents happen all the time right? Surely this is a great time for such a thing to happen. 'Fall, fall, fall!' I thought. Or maybe one of those business majors would go on a shooting spree and I would get grazed by a bullet. They are a *very* twitchy bunch-- all that nicotine and caffiene. Or maybe a bullet would hit the know it all in that big feakin' mouth of his. But none of those things happened. I blinked a few times and started to answer his question, or tried to anyway.
Then Prof. Jochim asked me a question that went something like "How did Malinowski's approach towards religion lead to a different frame of interpretation regarding world religions?" After a brief coughing fit, that wasn't planned for a distraction, I cobbled together somthing about marriage rituals, kinship ties, and the importance of the mother over the father. I became aware of the words only as they left my mouth.
At the end of the longest 25 minutes of my entire life, Prof. Jochim thanked me for a job well done and I went back to my seat. During the review for the upcoming midterm I engaged in a contest with Mr. Know it all. We kept raining our hands at the same time to answer the teachers questions, but I'm just a little faster than he is. Two can play at this game.
I came home, slept for two hours, and then went back to school for Ancient Near East Class.
I'm so tired. I can't wait to go to sleep tonight.
Hope all of my loyal readers are well tonight.
~Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish, Tragic
PS. UPDATE concerning Gwen's Dance album from Greenerpastures.net
From ign.com, here is the tracklisting for Love Angel Music Baby:
1. What You Waiting For: Produced by Nellee Hooper; Co-written with Linda Perry
2. Rich Girl: featuring EveProduced by Dr Dre
3. Hollaback Girl: Co-written and produced by The Neptunes
4. Cool: Co-written and produced by Dallas Austin
5. Bubble Pop Electric :Co-written and produced by Andre 3000 (Johnny Vulture)
6. Luxurious: Co-produced by Nellee Hooper and Tony Kanal; Co-written with Tony Kanal
7. Harajuku Girls: Co-written and produced by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis
8. Crash: co written and produced by Tony Kanal
9. Real Thing: Co-written with Linda Perry; Intro performed by Wendy and Lisa from Prince's old band; Bass performed by Peter Hook from New Order; Backing Vocals from Bernard Sumner of New Order
10. Serious: Co-written and produced by Tony Kanal
11. Danger Zone: Produced by Nellee Hooper and Dallas Austin; Co-written with Linda Perry and Dallas Austin
12. Long Way To Go: Co-written and performed by Andre 3000
<3 color="#3366ff">taken from the star magazine website
GWEN STEFANI SHOCKED GAVIN'S GOT A LOVE CHILD!Gwen Stefani's world has been turned upside down with the news that her husband, rocker Gavin Rossdale, 36, who Gwen, 35, married two years ago and who she's been with for eight years, is the father of a 16-year-old British model, Daisy Lowe. Neither Gwen -- who is said to be "devastated" and "ballistic" over the news -- nor Gavin had any idea that he had fathered a child with his former lover and longtime friend Pearl Lowe, 33, until a DNA test revealed the shocking results just two weeks ago. Gavin and Pearl originally became involved in their late teens, when both were aspiring singers in London. When Pearl got pregnant at the age of 17, she assumed the father of her baby was an Egyptian man whom she was also dating at the time. Though she and Gavin had been intimate, according to a source close to Pearl, the two eventually "decided they were better off as friends." After the birth of Pearl's baby, Gavin was named godfather to the little girl, named Daisy. "He thought Daisy was absolutely gorgeous," says a source. "He was besotted with her." Meanwhile, Pearl found love with Danny Coffey, now 30, a drummer for the British band Supergrass, with whom she went on to have two more children. She and Gavin remained friends as his success with the band Bush grew. When Gavin left the U.K. for America with Bush, he kept in touch with Pearl and his goddaughter. "Pearl was so happy for him when his band took off," says the source. But once Gavin met Gwen in 1996, his friendship with Pearl cooled. Gwen had always been concerned about Gavin and Pearl's relationship. "Gwen has been a little jealous of Pearl," says the source. She told Gavin to stay away from her. GAVIN'S DILEMMA Two years ago, when Gwen, 35, and Gavin finally wed after a six-year courtship, those close to the couple began to notice a resemblance between Daisy -- now a teenager who models -- and Gavin. Daisy was featured in the October issue of British Vogue. Gwen even inquired about their uncanny resemblance. "Gwen asked Gavin outright if he was [Daisy's father]," says the source. "He swore blind he had never had sex with Pearl." Actually, Gavin never admitted to Gwen that he'd had a romantic relationship with Pearl, but when Pearl recently insisted that Gavin take a DNA test to clarify Daisy's parentage before the girl turned 16, he complied. "Gwen trusted Gavin," says the source. "But the results proved he was the dad." Daisy is said to be thrilled at the news of her father's identity, and though Gavin released a statement confirming he is Daisy's dad, he is apparently freaked out by the news. "His marriage is strained because Gwen was caught by surprise," says the source. Gavin was linked to a string of women during his six-year courtship with Stefani -- including Courtney Love, Andrea Corr of the Irish pop group The Corrs, and British singer Nicole Appleton -- perhaps inspiring Gwen to write the No Doubt song, 2001's "Detective,"on which she sings: "I've caught you, your hands are red/ Now I'm your brokenhearted detective." Hmm, looks like life is imitating art. -- JOHN BELL
P.P.P.S lyrics to Detective from Rock Steady
Detective
(G. Stefani, T. Kanal, T. Dumont)
My back it hurts again
It aches like history
Cottonmouth and all lit up
You're smiling back at me
But I feel you must have failed me
Once again you've let me down
My confidence below my knees now
I need to find you out
Peek in sneak about
I'm gonna snoop and call you out I caught you, your hands are red
Now I'm your broken hearted detective
Hey lover why the gun?
Hold on I'm almost there
It's too late, you killed the trust
Don't act so unaware
So why are you so destructive?
Do you realize what you've done?
You can't bring it back to life now
What are you running from?
Peek in sneak about
I'm gonna snoop and call you out I caught you, your hands are red
Now I'm your broken hearted detective I don't like the way I feel
I just want you to be real
Hey girl save the liar
Can't you see his pants on fire?
Hey girl save the liar
Can't you see his pants on fire?
I'm rummaging through your closet
Imagining all the worst thoughts
Peek in sneak about
I'm gonna snoop and call you out
I caught you, your hands are red
Now I'm your broken hearted detective
No Doubt(T. Dumont, G. Stefani, E. Stefani, T. Kanal)
No Doubt (1992)
Sometimes sunshine
Does not want to shine on me
And sometimes I find myself blind
At first I cannot see and then I see it's me
I chose a road when I was young
In search of fun temptations won
And all my soul I did surrender
If I had a chance to back now
Would I redeem my moral vows
Or would I repeat for my own laughter
Sometimes I hide somewhat
Like a bulb behind a shade
And sometimes I ask myself why
Is it cause the lights are too bright
Or because my eyes are closed too tight
Sometimes I find myself blind
Don't use my brain don't use my mind
Distorted feelings always leading my way
But I must forgive myself
And let the past lay down to rest
And be prepared to face myself in another day
From now on I will behave
But in the back of my mind I will be enslaved
I was just thinking to myself how exhasting it is to go to all my classes-- and then I realised that I actually missed Study of Religion on Monday morning. I did make it to Ancient Near East class though, where I finally turned in my thesis and bibliography a week late. Monday night I re-pinked my hair and added teeny tiny little purple highlights in the blonde highlights. Also I frantically studied for my two map midterms on Tuesday morning. The only way I could come up with to study them was to actually trace them and add all the cities and empires with colored pencils.
When Tuesday morning came I felt the weight of impending academic doom. I crawled out from under my covers and peered out the window. It was a downpour outside and it still looked like night time. The sun was hiding behind the massive black rain clouds. Wearing thermals under my red and black bondage pants, long sleeves, a sweater, and my green jacket with the faux fur lining around the hood which makes me look like a pink haired eskimo. To brighten up the dark morning, I also pinned in a tangerine colored flower in my hair amongst the blonde sections. (It doesn't look as tacky as it sounds! I *promise*!) I couldn't find my zebra print umbrella or my red plaid umbrella. So I had to take a plain old black one. Hmf. I opened the front door and was greeted by an icy wind. Sincerely doubting that both of my midterms would be called on account of stormy weather, I patted my dog on the head and yanked the front door closed against the winter. When I got to school, the downpour had turned into a monsoon. The cold rain was assaulting me from every direction. By the time I got to class, I was soaked from the knee down. I did see one other girl worse off than me though. She was wearing.... get ready, shorts and flip flops and a short sleeve shirt. Damn, what weather report did she see?
There were 10 maps we had to know, and 4 would be on the test. The 4 which were on the test for World History 1A: The Empires of Southwest Asia and North East Africa (1570- 1250 B.C.E.), Ashoka's Empire in India (250 B.C.E.), Persian/ Peloponessian Wars (480- 479 B.C.E.), and Classical Shang China (1800- 1025 B.C.E.) The One that was most difficult for me was the Persian/ Peloponessian Wars maps. The other three were actually pretty easy. On the Empires map, though, I was frantically trying to remember which river was the Euphrates and which was the Tigris. I changed my answers back and forth twice but I think I got it right. The Tigris is farther East, is what I remembered, so here's hoping.
In World History 1B the map selection was as follows: Spanish and Portuguese Conquest in the New World (1492- 1550), Reformation Europe, Asian Empires (1300- 1700), and The Empire of Napoleon in Europe (1812). I breezed through the first three easily enough.
But, wait just a sec! Napoleon! Sh*t! I was completely dumbfounded. Thankfully, it wasn't just a fill in the blank kind of map. There was a bank of geographical terms to choose from. That sinking feeling slowly returned. I used to get it all the time in Organic Chem and Inorganic Chem (the two classes which are responsible for me not having a 3.5 gpa.)
Sigh.
Waterloo? Austerlitz? Marengo? Freakin' Napoleon, man. Screwing wth people from beyond the grave. I'm pretty sure the only two I got right were the Illyrian Provinces and Trafalgar.
My Mom drove up from Hollister so that we could have lunch. We went to Hukilau in Japantown. It's a Hawaiian themed restaurant smack dab in the middle of the biggest concentration of Japanese restaurants in town. I ordered a fruit punch, spam musubu, and the hukilau chicken special. My mom and I shared the spam musubu. What that is-- I know it sounds strange but you've really gotta trust me and take a leap of faith here-- spam surrounded my steamed rice and held together by that seaweed paper stuff. It's like sushi-- but with spam in the middle. That's the closest my mother will ever come to eating sushi. I was pretty much full after the appetizer so I brought my chicken home. They give you so much food at Hukilau-- a bunch of marinated chicken, macaroni salad, two scoops of steamed rice, and noodles. See, lots! Anyway, I ended up bringing back almost all of my food. Maybe I'll have it tonight if I get hungry enough.
As we were leaving the restaurant, the rain stopped and the sun came out a little. But it was still hella windy. When we got back to my mom's car, I realised my brand new flower was gone. (Not a real flower, a fake one made from fabric but still quite pretty.) I back tracked three blocks, scouring the streets and side walks. All the trees on Jackson Street were losing their leaves because of the wind-- burnt orange leaves falling and swirling about around me. Almost all the way back to Hukilau I spooted my flower. It was in the gutter, sitting atop a pile of leaves and hadn't gotten muddy at all. I crossed the street rather suddenly, crouched behind the car and fetched my flower. Apparently, the driver of the car didn't know I was there because he started up and nearly reversed his car right over me.
Later on in the afternoon I had to make my way back to SJSU for my Africa before 1800 class. Since I've been sorta sick on and off I've missed quite a few classes. Walking down the hall of Dudley Morehead Hall I was gripped with the anxiety I hadn't had since I was a freshman, lo those many years ago. I stuck my pink head in class after class, looking for familiar faces. Finally I found my destination. Danh, mi amigo, informed me that we had a test next week and that we'd also got out first tests back. Africa class goes from 6pm to 8:45. We get our break around 7pm. Even though I told him he didn't need to, he ventured out into the rain to make me copied of his notes for the days that I'd missed. Dr. Kline gave me back my map quiz and my midterm. I got a perfect score on the map quiz. When I got back to my seat, though, I looked at my midterm. I'd earned a perfect score on the essay but missed a few on the multiple choice portion. I added up the two number and got... a 68?! Wait a minute, a D?
How could I get a D? History is supposed to be what I'm good at. I meekly folded my test and put it my back pack.
We had a documentary to watch during the second portion of class. Remember when I said that I wasn't going to bitch to my friends about feeling sick anymore? Well I've been holding to that. Telling Lisa and Danh that I'm perfectly fine-- just trying to get over a pesky cough. Well, during the movie I leaned back in my desk and felt that horrible *pop* on my left side. 'oh no.' When I moved one more time, trying to get comfy it happened again. So I decided that I just wouldn't move anymore during class. I was looking at my professor, pen in hand when it happened. Everything got really bright and my hands went numb, and I dropped my pen. This must be what people mean when they say "seeing stars." I felt really light headed- all I "saw" was whiteness. It didn't last very long and when it was over, I leaned over to grab my pen.
When I got home I recalculated my midterm grade and came up with 88. Relief! Somehow I'd misplaced 20 points in my first calculation. I can cope with a B+. Getting home at 8:45 pm makes it tough to get going on other projects/ papers. Nevertheless, I had to write a paper and speech about Bronislaw Malinowki. I'd gotten my library books on Sunday but they only had three of the six books they were supposed to have by Malinowski. The paper had to be anywhere from 6- 10 pages. Usually I'm one of those annoying people who will always have the maximum number of pages allowable for my paper. But this paper was very challenging for me to write.
I was already tired when I started my paper. But by 3am, I'd only written in Bibliography and four and a half pages of the body. There was no way I could keep going. Every sentence was an uphill struggle. I was sitting in this very same, slightly uncomfortable office chair pecking one key at a time. I was mispelling "the"! So I decided to call it quits. At 3:45 or so, I limped back to bed with my loyal dog trailing behind me. I set my alarm clock for 7am so I could finish my paper.
Wednesday morning came far too early. Imanaged to pound out some sort of conclusion for my last page of the paper and sped to school so as not to be late for my speech. Half way to class, I realised that I'd forgotten my umbrella. I contemplated going back for it, but then I'd be late for class and therefore my speech. Swearing under my breath, I walked to class and hoped that the dark gray sky wouldn't open up and drench me. With each inhalation the cold air hurt my nose and chest. By the time I get to the Business Building, my nose is running.
Usually when students have to do speeches, the teacher will talk to the class first. You know, warm up the audience so to speak. Not so with Prof. Jochim. He just handed the class over to me at 9am *sharp*. With my notes and three books in hand, I shakily walked to the front of the class. My speech was supposed to be 15 minutes-- at least. I had no idea how I was going to fill up so much time. But I managed to talk for at least 18 minutes. After mentioning "The Coral Gardens," "The Argonauts of the Western Pacific," and "The Father In Primitive Psychology," and writing certain names and key phrases on the whiteboard, I was done.
But then Prof. Jochim asked if there were any questions.
In the back row, this really smart ass student raised his hand. He's a talker. He's like that Dr. Benton character on "ER", except he's got slightly bigger hair. He started out by asking me "Define the holistic approach in regards to Malinowski's thesis......" and then he kept talking. And talking. I couldn't even keep up with what he was asking me.
As I stood there, in front of 20 people who I barely knew, time seemed to slow down. I knew, somewhere in my mind, that this moment couldn't last forever. He couldn't keep talking forever, at some point he would have to stop to breathe. I was standing below the metal attachement for the projection screen. Watching his mouth move, forming ever more complicated questions, I began to pray for it to fall and hit me on the head. I mean, accidents happen all the time right? Surely this is a great time for such a thing to happen. 'Fall, fall, fall!' I thought. Or maybe one of those business majors would go on a shooting spree and I would get grazed by a bullet. They are a *very* twitchy bunch-- all that nicotine and caffiene. Or maybe a bullet would hit the know it all in that big feakin' mouth of his. But none of those things happened. I blinked a few times and started to answer his question, or tried to anyway.
Then Prof. Jochim asked me a question that went something like "How did Malinowski's approach towards religion lead to a different frame of interpretation regarding world religions?" After a brief coughing fit, that wasn't planned for a distraction, I cobbled together somthing about marriage rituals, kinship ties, and the importance of the mother over the father. I became aware of the words only as they left my mouth.
At the end of the longest 25 minutes of my entire life, Prof. Jochim thanked me for a job well done and I went back to my seat. During the review for the upcoming midterm I engaged in a contest with Mr. Know it all. We kept raining our hands at the same time to answer the teachers questions, but I'm just a little faster than he is. Two can play at this game.
I came home, slept for two hours, and then went back to school for Ancient Near East Class.
I'm so tired. I can't wait to go to sleep tonight.
Hope all of my loyal readers are well tonight.
~Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish, Tragic
PS. UPDATE concerning Gwen's Dance album from Greenerpastures.net
From ign.com, here is the tracklisting for Love Angel Music Baby:
1. What You Waiting For: Produced by Nellee Hooper; Co-written with Linda Perry
2. Rich Girl: featuring EveProduced by Dr Dre
3. Hollaback Girl: Co-written and produced by The Neptunes
4. Cool: Co-written and produced by Dallas Austin
5. Bubble Pop Electric :Co-written and produced by Andre 3000 (Johnny Vulture)
6. Luxurious: Co-produced by Nellee Hooper and Tony Kanal; Co-written with Tony Kanal
7. Harajuku Girls: Co-written and produced by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis
8. Crash: co written and produced by Tony Kanal
9. Real Thing: Co-written with Linda Perry; Intro performed by Wendy and Lisa from Prince's old band; Bass performed by Peter Hook from New Order; Backing Vocals from Bernard Sumner of New Order
10. Serious: Co-written and produced by Tony Kanal
11. Danger Zone: Produced by Nellee Hooper and Dallas Austin; Co-written with Linda Perry and Dallas Austin
12. Long Way To Go: Co-written and performed by Andre 3000
<3 color="#3366ff">taken from the star magazine website
GWEN STEFANI SHOCKED GAVIN'S GOT A LOVE CHILD!Gwen Stefani's world has been turned upside down with the news that her husband, rocker Gavin Rossdale, 36, who Gwen, 35, married two years ago and who she's been with for eight years, is the father of a 16-year-old British model, Daisy Lowe. Neither Gwen -- who is said to be "devastated" and "ballistic" over the news -- nor Gavin had any idea that he had fathered a child with his former lover and longtime friend Pearl Lowe, 33, until a DNA test revealed the shocking results just two weeks ago. Gavin and Pearl originally became involved in their late teens, when both were aspiring singers in London. When Pearl got pregnant at the age of 17, she assumed the father of her baby was an Egyptian man whom she was also dating at the time. Though she and Gavin had been intimate, according to a source close to Pearl, the two eventually "decided they were better off as friends." After the birth of Pearl's baby, Gavin was named godfather to the little girl, named Daisy. "He thought Daisy was absolutely gorgeous," says a source. "He was besotted with her." Meanwhile, Pearl found love with Danny Coffey, now 30, a drummer for the British band Supergrass, with whom she went on to have two more children. She and Gavin remained friends as his success with the band Bush grew. When Gavin left the U.K. for America with Bush, he kept in touch with Pearl and his goddaughter. "Pearl was so happy for him when his band took off," says the source. But once Gavin met Gwen in 1996, his friendship with Pearl cooled. Gwen had always been concerned about Gavin and Pearl's relationship. "Gwen has been a little jealous of Pearl," says the source. She told Gavin to stay away from her. GAVIN'S DILEMMA Two years ago, when Gwen, 35, and Gavin finally wed after a six-year courtship, those close to the couple began to notice a resemblance between Daisy -- now a teenager who models -- and Gavin. Daisy was featured in the October issue of British Vogue. Gwen even inquired about their uncanny resemblance. "Gwen asked Gavin outright if he was [Daisy's father]," says the source. "He swore blind he had never had sex with Pearl." Actually, Gavin never admitted to Gwen that he'd had a romantic relationship with Pearl, but when Pearl recently insisted that Gavin take a DNA test to clarify Daisy's parentage before the girl turned 16, he complied. "Gwen trusted Gavin," says the source. "But the results proved he was the dad." Daisy is said to be thrilled at the news of her father's identity, and though Gavin released a statement confirming he is Daisy's dad, he is apparently freaked out by the news. "His marriage is strained because Gwen was caught by surprise," says the source. Gavin was linked to a string of women during his six-year courtship with Stefani -- including Courtney Love, Andrea Corr of the Irish pop group The Corrs, and British singer Nicole Appleton -- perhaps inspiring Gwen to write the No Doubt song, 2001's "Detective,"on which she sings: "I've caught you, your hands are red/ Now I'm your brokenhearted detective." Hmm, looks like life is imitating art. -- JOHN BELL
P.P.P.S lyrics to Detective from Rock Steady
Detective
(G. Stefani, T. Kanal, T. Dumont)
My back it hurts again
It aches like history
Cottonmouth and all lit up
You're smiling back at me
But I feel you must have failed me
Once again you've let me down
My confidence below my knees now
I need to find you out
Peek in sneak about
I'm gonna snoop and call you out I caught you, your hands are red
Now I'm your broken hearted detective
Hey lover why the gun?
Hold on I'm almost there
It's too late, you killed the trust
Don't act so unaware
So why are you so destructive?
Do you realize what you've done?
You can't bring it back to life now
What are you running from?
Peek in sneak about
I'm gonna snoop and call you out I caught you, your hands are red
Now I'm your broken hearted detective I don't like the way I feel
I just want you to be real
Hey girl save the liar
Can't you see his pants on fire?
Hey girl save the liar
Can't you see his pants on fire?
I'm rummaging through your closet
Imagining all the worst thoughts
Peek in sneak about
I'm gonna snoop and call you out
I caught you, your hands are red
Now I'm your broken hearted detective
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Books For Soldiers
Here's another reminder from yours truly. There's this really cool website out there called "Books For Soldiers." You can check it out and send cool stuff to someone in Iraq or Afghanistan.
Think about it-- the holidays are coming up!! It's too late to do anything cool for Halloween, but Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Hanukkah, are on the way. You could even send blank holiday cards to someone in the service so they can send the cards back to the states.
Another good one is "Soldier's Angels," you can actually adopt someone and send them mail and care packages. You can even specify branch of service. ~Tragic
Think about it-- the holidays are coming up!! It's too late to do anything cool for Halloween, but Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Hanukkah, are on the way. You could even send blank holiday cards to someone in the service so they can send the cards back to the states.
Another good one is "Soldier's Angels," you can actually adopt someone and send them mail and care packages. You can even specify branch of service. ~Tragic
Monday, October 18, 2004
I tried to feed the hunger of an empty grave.
"Nobody like you"
Echobelly
(On, [1995, Rhythm Records])
Inside it harbours,
Desire bruises my skin,
So near I'm hungry,
I'd like to have more,
In control,
I've lost it,
l'd like to try it again,
It warms inside me,
We're moving one step closer each time.
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you anyway,
oh anyway,
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody can touch you,
Nobody like you anyway oh anyway,
Everyone knows.
We fall, slow motion,
I taste your breath in my veins,
Like waves, vibrations,
It's coming up again,
Let me climb inside you,
Caress your fever tongue,
Spread my wings around you,
And we can slide.
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you anyway,
oh anyway,
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody can touch you,
Nobody like you anyway oh anyway,
Everyone knows.
I've always craved,
I tried to feed the hunger of an empty grave,
You've shown me secrets I've not forgotten,
l'll give you all the love that I take,
That I take.
Inside it harbours,
Desire bruises my skin,
So near I'm hungry,
We're moving one step closer each time.
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you anyway,
oh anyway,
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody can touch you,
Nobody like you anyway oh anyway.
There's nobody like you,
Can you can you can oh oh oh,
There's nobody like you,
Can you can you can oh oh oh,
There's nobody like you,
Can you can you can oh oh oh.
Just a quick post tonight since I've got two map midterms tomorrow. Argh, maps.
When I was in high school, Echobelly was my favourite band. I found about them through my cousin who worked at Tower Records. He's seven years older than me, and in high school, nothing couldn't convince me that he wasn't the coolest guy ever. He has a mohawk and wore leather and chains-- his fellow employees called him Mad Max. And I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. (You know, except for the whole being a guy part.) His girlfriend was really into a band from Britain. Consequently, Echobelly was the only music he listened to that wasn't a metal band.
Already being somewhat of an outcast at my own high school I adopted his complete catalogue of music as my own. I couldn't have cared less about Boyz II Men, Wu Tang Clan, Celine Dion, or the Spice Girls. There was no way I would ever fit in with the popular crowd anyway, so why bother listening to their music?
When I got my driver's license I had to beg for six months to get a tape player for my car. ('Stupid American radio stations', I'd think. 'They never play Echobelly!') I finally convinced my dad that I stood a better chance of not crashing my car while messing with the radio because I'd be listening to my own mix tapes on the stereo.
Echobelly never made it big here. I believe they toured back in 1995, but it's not like I could go to the clubs in San Francisco and see them. One of their songs was on the "Dumb and Dumber" soundtrack, and that was pretty much it for their chance at the American market.
Sonya Aurora Madan has such a beautiful voice. In my opinion, there was never a band who deserved stardom more than Echobelly, and never got it. (sigh)
My ribs still really hurt but I've decided just to lie about it to my friends. I'll just tell them I'm fine. A part of me thinks that I should be able to be tough and cope with this. It's not like I'm ever going to get any help from Shmizer.
So, yeah-- it's really hurts when I breathe. But I'm just going to keep it a secret.
I get hungry from time to time, but when I actually try to eat, it's like my appetite disappears. Time will tell, I guess.
Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish
<3 Tragic
Echobelly
(On, [1995, Rhythm Records])
Inside it harbours,
Desire bruises my skin,
So near I'm hungry,
I'd like to have more,
In control,
I've lost it,
l'd like to try it again,
It warms inside me,
We're moving one step closer each time.
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you anyway,
oh anyway,
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody can touch you,
Nobody like you anyway oh anyway,
Everyone knows.
We fall, slow motion,
I taste your breath in my veins,
Like waves, vibrations,
It's coming up again,
Let me climb inside you,
Caress your fever tongue,
Spread my wings around you,
And we can slide.
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you anyway,
oh anyway,
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody can touch you,
Nobody like you anyway oh anyway,
Everyone knows.
I've always craved,
I tried to feed the hunger of an empty grave,
You've shown me secrets I've not forgotten,
l'll give you all the love that I take,
That I take.
Inside it harbours,
Desire bruises my skin,
So near I'm hungry,
We're moving one step closer each time.
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody like you anyway,
oh anyway,
There's nobody like you,
Nobody like you,
Nobody can touch you,
Nobody like you anyway oh anyway.
There's nobody like you,
Can you can you can oh oh oh,
There's nobody like you,
Can you can you can oh oh oh,
There's nobody like you,
Can you can you can oh oh oh.
Just a quick post tonight since I've got two map midterms tomorrow. Argh, maps.
When I was in high school, Echobelly was my favourite band. I found about them through my cousin who worked at Tower Records. He's seven years older than me, and in high school, nothing couldn't convince me that he wasn't the coolest guy ever. He has a mohawk and wore leather and chains-- his fellow employees called him Mad Max. And I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. (You know, except for the whole being a guy part.) His girlfriend was really into a band from Britain. Consequently, Echobelly was the only music he listened to that wasn't a metal band.
Already being somewhat of an outcast at my own high school I adopted his complete catalogue of music as my own. I couldn't have cared less about Boyz II Men, Wu Tang Clan, Celine Dion, or the Spice Girls. There was no way I would ever fit in with the popular crowd anyway, so why bother listening to their music?
When I got my driver's license I had to beg for six months to get a tape player for my car. ('Stupid American radio stations', I'd think. 'They never play Echobelly!') I finally convinced my dad that I stood a better chance of not crashing my car while messing with the radio because I'd be listening to my own mix tapes on the stereo.
Echobelly never made it big here. I believe they toured back in 1995, but it's not like I could go to the clubs in San Francisco and see them. One of their songs was on the "Dumb and Dumber" soundtrack, and that was pretty much it for their chance at the American market.
Sonya Aurora Madan has such a beautiful voice. In my opinion, there was never a band who deserved stardom more than Echobelly, and never got it. (sigh)
My ribs still really hurt but I've decided just to lie about it to my friends. I'll just tell them I'm fine. A part of me thinks that I should be able to be tough and cope with this. It's not like I'm ever going to get any help from Shmizer.
So, yeah-- it's really hurts when I breathe. But I'm just going to keep it a secret.
I get hungry from time to time, but when I actually try to eat, it's like my appetite disappears. Time will tell, I guess.
Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish
<3 Tragic
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish
Where did I leave off? I missed all my classes on Monday because I was too sick. I typed up my paper on Confucius and was actually planning on going to class on Tuesday.
Monday night was a night of misery. I hadn't remembered to take my cough medicine until I went to bed at 1AM. The cough medicine I've been taking before bed is called phenergan, if you must know. It's from a few years ago but I think it's still okay.
Anyway, all I did was toss and turn (fever), cough, rattle and hurt. In my whole life I don't think I've coughed as hard as I did on Monday night. All the tylenol finally got my fever down to 100 degrees. Even though I only slept for 15 minutes (no exaggeration) it felt like a nightmare. The one thing that sucks about college is that due dates are concrete. The cooler professors will let you turn in a paper late for a small penalty (10% deduction). Others are more hard core and won't accept a paper given to them half way through class. (So, for example, if class starts at 8am and you get there late and turn in your paper at 8:30 they will say no.)
Tuesday morning was the first time I left the house since Friday. As I shuffled out of the house at 8:15am my eyes instantly burned. I felt like poor little Smeagol peering up at the sun. 'It burns us, It burns us!' Although I do not remember the drive to school, I have a very vague memory of my professor telling me I looked very pale and yes, it was okay if I just went straight home after turning in my paper. I slept for at least four hours when I got home.
Tuesday night I had just enough energy in me to type up my thesis and outline for writing workshop. I hate outlines. Always have and always will. In pathophysiology we had to do these long, complicated outlines. Our instructor was completely daft- each one of these 10 page outlines was worth 0.25 points. I remembered to take my phenergan, so-- I actually slept. Alot.
Wednesday I actually went to all my classes. I picked a topic for my speech on October 18th and signed up (talk about waiting til the last minute.) In Ancient Near East, Dr. Roth passed back the midterms. I started to scrunch down in my desk, dreading the moment when he called my name and gave me back my test. As he handed me my blue book I cringed.
I don't know if I mentioned this midterm last week. It was worth 200 points: fill in the blank, definition, short answer, map, and essay. (The essay was worth 100pts, the remaining 4 sections made up the other 100 points. I completely forgot about the map portion, so you can imagine my horror when I was flipping through the test booklet and saw that. The map didn't have any hints-- at all. Not even squiggly little lines for rivers. My biggest problem with these sorts of assignments is that it's hard for me to figure out what's ocean and land. It's just a bunch of black lines for the Near East and the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. Ack! I got an A+ on the essay, but I totally bombed the rest of it. Apparently, no one in any of his classes has managed to ace one section so completely, while the blowing the other half entirely. I'd prepared myself for an F but I managed to get a C.
My last class was cancelled so I just went home.
This morning my fever dropped to 99 degrees. Oh happy day! On my way past the bell tower on campus, this guy came up from behind me, tapped me on the shoulder, looked me right in the eye and said "You're running late, you don't want to be left behind." I'd stopped walking, while he delivered the second part of the sentence walking backwards looking at me. I'd never seen him before and I have no idea who he was.
I had two quizzes today. Alejandro was such a sweetie, he got all the handouts for me while I was sick. He's two years older than the rest of us and Phuong and I are convinced he's a genius. He could probably go to Harvard if his family had more money. It's not just with history. He took physics as an elective. For fun!! Anyway, I'd done the reading for the first quiz so there weren't too many surprises. Alejandro's cool though.
In our second class I tried to take notes and do my reading at the same time. We sit in the back, so I wasn't too worried about the professor seeing me. I was sitting there, reading about Church Reform in Russia in the seventeenth century thinking to myself that I was going to make it-- finish my reading. I'd already read the previous chapter in the parking garage. Alejandro got my attention by tapping on my desk. He shrugged at me and gestured at my book. "huh?" I asked. He reached over to my book and flipped ahead four chapters-- "the quiz today is on 18 & 19! Read about the French Revolution and the Industrial Revolution," he whispered.
Oh crap! I'd just read 15 and 16.
I think I did okay though.
I'm just so tired all the time. It sounds strange, I know, but it's almost as though I'm too tired to cough. Every muscle is just so tired it's like I'm physically incapable of coughing anymore. And when I do it's so hard to catch my breath. My sore throat has eased, which is nice. I can finally drink and eat again. The cough syrup and tylenol really do the trick. I wish I could take it during the day too.
Oh. The soonest appointment I could get was November 4th. "Live well and Thrive" my ass. What a crock.
I recorded the "Making of... What you Waiting For" on MTV last night. I absolutely love Gwennie's new video and wish I was her.
"Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish."
<3 Tragic Tuyen
Monday night was a night of misery. I hadn't remembered to take my cough medicine until I went to bed at 1AM. The cough medicine I've been taking before bed is called phenergan, if you must know. It's from a few years ago but I think it's still okay.
Anyway, all I did was toss and turn (fever), cough, rattle and hurt. In my whole life I don't think I've coughed as hard as I did on Monday night. All the tylenol finally got my fever down to 100 degrees. Even though I only slept for 15 minutes (no exaggeration) it felt like a nightmare. The one thing that sucks about college is that due dates are concrete. The cooler professors will let you turn in a paper late for a small penalty (10% deduction). Others are more hard core and won't accept a paper given to them half way through class. (So, for example, if class starts at 8am and you get there late and turn in your paper at 8:30 they will say no.)
Tuesday morning was the first time I left the house since Friday. As I shuffled out of the house at 8:15am my eyes instantly burned. I felt like poor little Smeagol peering up at the sun. 'It burns us, It burns us!' Although I do not remember the drive to school, I have a very vague memory of my professor telling me I looked very pale and yes, it was okay if I just went straight home after turning in my paper. I slept for at least four hours when I got home.
Tuesday night I had just enough energy in me to type up my thesis and outline for writing workshop. I hate outlines. Always have and always will. In pathophysiology we had to do these long, complicated outlines. Our instructor was completely daft- each one of these 10 page outlines was worth 0.25 points. I remembered to take my phenergan, so-- I actually slept. Alot.
Wednesday I actually went to all my classes. I picked a topic for my speech on October 18th and signed up (talk about waiting til the last minute.) In Ancient Near East, Dr. Roth passed back the midterms. I started to scrunch down in my desk, dreading the moment when he called my name and gave me back my test. As he handed me my blue book I cringed.
I don't know if I mentioned this midterm last week. It was worth 200 points: fill in the blank, definition, short answer, map, and essay. (The essay was worth 100pts, the remaining 4 sections made up the other 100 points. I completely forgot about the map portion, so you can imagine my horror when I was flipping through the test booklet and saw that. The map didn't have any hints-- at all. Not even squiggly little lines for rivers. My biggest problem with these sorts of assignments is that it's hard for me to figure out what's ocean and land. It's just a bunch of black lines for the Near East and the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. Ack! I got an A+ on the essay, but I totally bombed the rest of it. Apparently, no one in any of his classes has managed to ace one section so completely, while the blowing the other half entirely. I'd prepared myself for an F but I managed to get a C.
My last class was cancelled so I just went home.
This morning my fever dropped to 99 degrees. Oh happy day! On my way past the bell tower on campus, this guy came up from behind me, tapped me on the shoulder, looked me right in the eye and said "You're running late, you don't want to be left behind." I'd stopped walking, while he delivered the second part of the sentence walking backwards looking at me. I'd never seen him before and I have no idea who he was.
I had two quizzes today. Alejandro was such a sweetie, he got all the handouts for me while I was sick. He's two years older than the rest of us and Phuong and I are convinced he's a genius. He could probably go to Harvard if his family had more money. It's not just with history. He took physics as an elective. For fun!! Anyway, I'd done the reading for the first quiz so there weren't too many surprises. Alejandro's cool though.
In our second class I tried to take notes and do my reading at the same time. We sit in the back, so I wasn't too worried about the professor seeing me. I was sitting there, reading about Church Reform in Russia in the seventeenth century thinking to myself that I was going to make it-- finish my reading. I'd already read the previous chapter in the parking garage. Alejandro got my attention by tapping on my desk. He shrugged at me and gestured at my book. "huh?" I asked. He reached over to my book and flipped ahead four chapters-- "the quiz today is on 18 & 19! Read about the French Revolution and the Industrial Revolution," he whispered.
Oh crap! I'd just read 15 and 16.
I think I did okay though.
I'm just so tired all the time. It sounds strange, I know, but it's almost as though I'm too tired to cough. Every muscle is just so tired it's like I'm physically incapable of coughing anymore. And when I do it's so hard to catch my breath. My sore throat has eased, which is nice. I can finally drink and eat again. The cough syrup and tylenol really do the trick. I wish I could take it during the day too.
Oh. The soonest appointment I could get was November 4th. "Live well and Thrive" my ass. What a crock.
I recorded the "Making of... What you Waiting For" on MTV last night. I absolutely love Gwennie's new video and wish I was her.
"Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish."
<3 Tragic Tuyen
Monday, October 11, 2004
I'm so freakin' tired
One more tiny post. My fever is finally below the triple digits. Actually, it seems firmly planted between 99 and 100. All my other symptoms still apply though. I missed my classes today-- both of them. After about 12pm I woke up enought to start my paper for World History A, which is due tomorrow. It took about twice as long as it wold have had I been feeling 100%. I'll probably just turn my paper in and come home for the day. It would be so great if I could just come home and sleep-- but I've got 2 papers to write before Wednesday.
That's what I get for being unconscious with a 101 degree fever for most of the weekend. It's all about the tylenol, sudafed, benadryl, and cough syrup.
Quite frankly I feel too miserable to sleep. I'm watching "History's Blunders: The Titanic" on the history channel. Earlier I watched something about the Holocaust on PBS. Programmes about the Holocaust always make me cry.
Hope you are all doing better than me!
much <3 Tragic Tuyen
That's what I get for being unconscious with a 101 degree fever for most of the weekend. It's all about the tylenol, sudafed, benadryl, and cough syrup.
Quite frankly I feel too miserable to sleep. I'm watching "History's Blunders: The Titanic" on the history channel. Earlier I watched something about the Holocaust on PBS. Programmes about the Holocaust always make me cry.
Hope you are all doing better than me!
much <3 Tragic Tuyen
Sunday, October 10, 2004
Sleep escapes me
Since Friday night I've been pretty much out of it. Last night I checked my temperature and it was 101, but tonight it's around 100. Plus, last night, my head really started to hurt, along with the back of my neck. So, when I do get up I have to be careful. I can only take a few steps at a tme and them I have to lean against the wall. I can only describe it as a realy awful throbbing feeling that makes me dizzy.
I missed the football game. I just stayed home and went in and out of consciousness watching "The Nightmare Before Christmas".
My throat is still hurting. It's so bad that I haven't been eating or drinking a whole lot since Friday night. Even nice cool water burns my throat. Tonight should be interesting. Hopefully I won't spend as much time tossing and turning-- or waking up because I'm hot or cold-- or because I'm coughing. (sigh) This sucks. I can't help but wonder if this is what the rest of my life will be like.
much <3 Tragic Tuyen
I missed the football game. I just stayed home and went in and out of consciousness watching "The Nightmare Before Christmas".
My throat is still hurting. It's so bad that I haven't been eating or drinking a whole lot since Friday night. Even nice cool water burns my throat. Tonight should be interesting. Hopefully I won't spend as much time tossing and turning-- or waking up because I'm hot or cold-- or because I'm coughing. (sigh) This sucks. I can't help but wonder if this is what the rest of my life will be like.
much <3 Tragic Tuyen
Friday, October 08, 2004
Here we go again.
Hello all. I'm not really feeling up to doing a big post. For most of today I was feeling about the same as I have been. Around 8pm, though, I started to feel worse. Now I've got a sore throat and a fever of 100 degrees. I can't decide whether I'm hot or cold. Missed out on seeing that new movie "The Forgotten"-- that one Julianne Moore is in. Lisa can't handle scary movies-- so Phuong and I usually go together.
Tomorrow is the co-ed football game. I was just going to go and watch. Phuong has been planning this for almost 2 months, so I feel like I have to go, even if it means I'm shivering because of my fever.
Born to Lose, Tragic Tuyen
PS. I hope you guys are doing better than me.
Tomorrow is the co-ed football game. I was just going to go and watch. Phuong has been planning this for almost 2 months, so I feel like I have to go, even if it means I'm shivering because of my fever.
Born to Lose, Tragic Tuyen
PS. I hope you guys are doing better than me.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Breakfast of Champions
First things first. This is the THIRD time I've typed up this friggin post. F***ing blogger.com
I still stand by my statement that this has been the longest week ever. The fact that I keep re-typing this post is only reinforcing that opinion. Anyway, by Monday night I was already exhausted.
Monday I was too exhausted to even make it to my morning class-- the Study of Religion. I stayed in bed and slept, making Monday the fourth time I've missed my religion class. (I know, I know. Bad tragic) My second class of the day is Ancient Near East, which runs from 1:30 to 2:45. I actually got to the class a little early, and sat against the brick wall. The cold emanating from it feels nice on my sore side and back. After about 15 minutes Phuong came creeping down the hall with her cell phone to her ear. She hung up by the time she got to my comfy spot against the wall. I had finally remembered to bring her "Third Watch" tape with the season premiere on it. Phuong slid down the wall next to me and offered me a piece of gum. "Are you feeling any better? You don't look like you're feeling well at all! I can see it in your eyes." She managed to wrangle a promise out of me that I would return to the doctor. The kids from Military History began streaming out of DMH 165 and we both stood up. "You promised!" She said as she made her way to her sociology class. After class was over, we talked about possible plans for the weekend. Alejandro is in four of my classes this semester and Ancient Near East is one of them. Right in front of Alejandro Phuong says "You should call those fuckers at Schmiser and tell them you're going to sue unless they help you!"
Alejandro turns and looks at me and asks "What, for your cough? What's it been, like two weeks?"
"Two weeks, try two months!" Phuong shook her head in disgust. She continued "Walk her to her car-- and make sure she doesn't pass out!" (groan) How embarrasing, I think to myself. Alejandro is the oldest in our group of friends and seems to have taken the role of big brother. When we go to Cafe Pomegrante, which is right across from the History building (Dudley Morehead Hall, or DMH for short.) he always treats me, which is pretty nice of him considering that I'm not his girl friend or relative. He's just old fashioned like that, which is really nice. (But, also, I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage of him. So I always always *try* to pay, even though he tells me my money is no good.) Alejandro was in my Historiography class last Spring. After hearing that I was being hassled by this homeless dude who hung out on campus, he started walking me clear across campus to my car, even though his bus stop was in the complete opposite direction. He's a sweetie.
Anyway, Alejandro walked me to my car and off I went. As soon as I got home, I went outside to check my mail box-- to see if I got anything cool. (All I got was a bill for my CAT scan last month.) After watching a little TV, I was taking a laundry basket out to the the washer. There are only three steps in the house, so I guess it figures that if I was going to get dizzy and lose my balance, it would be there. So uh, yeah. I think I sprained my left wrist. I collected all my laundry with my good hand and tossed various articles into the washer.
The rest of the day and night was spent finishing writing my speech about Confucius (K'ung Fu Tzu). Also, each student had to prepare a handout to pass out to the entire class. My handout ended up being 6 pages, but it was very thorough and I felt good about it. I used all different colors of paper-- so I had pink packets, green packets, and yellow packets. Because white is sooooo boring. I got to bed at about midnight.
Tuesday morning came early. I woke up a little early because I was a little nervous about my speech and also wanted to go to the library and check out some books to use as visual aids. After spending half my coins, I had exactly 60 cents. I was standing in Novel Cafe, jealously eyeing all the food and drinks that I couldn't afford. After studying the menu in line I found one thing I could buy. A small cake donut with rainbow sprinkles on top. When I got up to the register though, the dude gave the BIG donut, the $1 donut even though I was 40 cents short.
After about half an hour of lecture it was my turn to do my speech. I wasn't too nervous at this point, I've almost earned my minor in Eastern Religions, so I felt like I knew my stuff pretty well. One of the books I checked out was a comic book version of the sayings of Confucius, the other was The Analects. My speech went really well and I said all I wanted to say. The only problem is that I kept coughing after almost every sentence. ("Sorry guys. I've got kind've a cold, so you'll have to bare with me.") After I was done, the professor told the whole class "You're going to want to hang on to this because it will be very helpful for the midterm." I'd almost forgotten what academic success felt like after all those freakin' nursing classes.
My mom and I were supposed to have lunch Tuesday afternoon, but she ditched me at the last minute. So I came home and had peanut butter sandwichs made out of ritz crackers. Spent the rest of the day reading for my Africa to 1800 class.
Africa class is packed. I don't think Professor Kline even accepted any adds. You've got to get to class early to get a desk, otherwise you end up on the floor. (Just like high school.)
Danh is my only real friend in Africa class. The other person I sort of know is Carl. He misses alot of classes. He's a paramedic up in EPA (East Palo Alto) which was the murder capital of the States back in the early 90's. I guess he's got a better excuse than the rest of us. "Oh sorry I couldn't make it to class-- some guy was bleeding to death in the back of my ambulance." I bet that's just what he says too.
During our snack break, class runs from 6pm to 8:45pm, Danh and I went to the library to make copies of something Phuong had given me. As we were leaving the copy area, I lifted my backpack when Danh says "Hey, you should probably let me carry that." 'what?' "No, that's okay man, I've got it." I tried to reassure. "But, but you're hurt and sick!" he said as he gestured for me to give him my backpack. I know he's just trying to be nice, but I don't want to be *that* kind of girl. Some weak thing that people pity. Besides, there's this last shred of dignity that I'm desperately clinging to.
On the escalator I announced that I was going to go to a Novel CAfe and get some hot chocolate and Danh followed me. When we were in line, this guy on my right side slapped my hip and said really, really loudly "DAMN BABY, You are turning me ON!" Everyone just sort of stopped and turned to look. He was gesturing to my newest accessory, a pair of handcuufs that hang from my chain belt. Danh looked at me as if to ask "who the hell is this guy?' This guy was also a history major. I knew him from History of the Vietnam War, which we both took in Fall of 2003. When out turn at the counter came, I dug out my wallet and ordered my hot chocolate but Danh said "Don't worry about it, I got it." "Are you positive?" I queried. "No problem". The three of us made awkward conversation until our orders came up. On the way back to class, Danh lit another cigarette and tried to avoid blowing smoke my way. By the time we got to class, the movie about christianity in Ethipoia had already started. We sat in different parts of the class and when I got back to my seat, some guy was sitting it it. So I had to sit on the floor for 45 minutes.
Tuesday night, when I was writing my prospectus and bibliography for my writing workshop class, the computer decided to freeze on me. I was trying to open a file on a disc when it happened. *crap* I couldn't even open it-- had to do it all over again. I didn't get to bed until 2am.
Wednesday morning was awful. I felt like I hadn't even gotten any sleep. My alarm clock went off for probably 10 minutes before I realised it. I remember having this dream where I was on a space craft that was going down-- crashing into a moon and the proximity alerts were going off. (What do you want from me, I already confessed to being a sci fi geek.) Then it dawned on me that it was my alarm clocking buzzing at me. Even though I wanted to go back to sleep, I figured I couldn't miss Religion class again. So off I shuffled, to a lecture on the Durkheimian approach to the sociological study of religion. Staying awake was a challenge. After class I sped back home because I needed to finish my prospectus and bibliography. Even though Imissed the first twenty minutes of my Ancient Near East class, I got my work done. I did miss the beginning of the lecture about Egypt though, which kinda sucked.
All we did in 100W class was turn in our work and decide not to meet until October 13th. Dammit! That's when MTV is airing the "Making of the Video" for Gwen Stefani's What You Waiting For. Why does everything always happen at once?
Both Lisa and Phuong have a 6pm class on Wednesday, but lucky me does not. Phuong wanted fries and Lisa wanted a shake, so we went to Peggy Sue's in San Pedro Square, right next to the Old Spaghetti Factory. As the name would suggest, Peggy Sue's is one of those '50's diners, but with a twist. It's also a hockey bar-- all the Sharks fans go there after the game, sometimes a Shark does too. But because of the hockey strike, we were the only people in there. I ordered a grilled cheese, Phuong ordered a California Club, and Lisa got, Bingo you guessed right, a grilled tuna salad sandwich. After we orderes Lisa looked at me after taking a swig of vanilla shake, "I just love how like, every two weeks you're dead!" Phuong flipped on her phone and left a message for Lon.
Apparently, while Danh and I had gone to the library, Lon went to our class to check up on me. When I wasn't there, he called Phuong and left some freaked out message. He's really more her friend then mine. Anyway, my cell was off that night and when she couldn't get a hold of me, she imagined the worst. Me in a hospital bed. Rumors started to swirl through the depeartment Wednesday morning. So, apparently I've cheated death!
Also, Phuong was invited by her crush of 2 years to go to a sports bar after class. She was all proud "Can you believe it! He gave ME his phone number!"
All I wanted to do Wednesday night was sleep, but alas, I had two quizzes to study for. Even though I'm so tired most of the time, sleeping isn't as easy as it used to be, with all the coughing. Sometimes when I cough or breathe out, I can hear this rattling sound. It sucks. I've still got my left wrist wrapped up too. This kind of crap isn't supposed to happen until a person is in her 80s. Thursday morning the vending machine wouldn't accept my coins. So I ate-- absolutely nothing. The Breakfast of Champions.
When did this happen? When did I become this sick weak girl with circles under her eyes? When did I become a pitiable creature?
Oh well.
Before I go, does anyone remember that show "Space: Above and Beyond"? It was on in '95 and '96 I think. Last night I dug out my tape and started re-watching it while I typed this post the first time. I was so pissed off at Fox when the cancelled that show.
http://www.cyberpursuits.comheckifIknow/saab/default.asp.
The Fox Network: Where Good Shows Go To Die.
FARSCAPE UPDATE: The "Peacekeeper Wars" is scheduled to heir on October 17th on the SCi Fi channel. Also, the sci fi network is supposed to begin heiring nightly re-reruns soon. Check your TV Guide.
http://www.scifi.com/farscape/
GWEN STEFANI UPDATE: According to Billboard.com and Gwen Stefani's own site, the forthcoming dance album will be called "Love, Angel, Music, Baby."
Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish
<3 Tragic Tuyen
I still stand by my statement that this has been the longest week ever. The fact that I keep re-typing this post is only reinforcing that opinion. Anyway, by Monday night I was already exhausted.
Monday I was too exhausted to even make it to my morning class-- the Study of Religion. I stayed in bed and slept, making Monday the fourth time I've missed my religion class. (I know, I know. Bad tragic) My second class of the day is Ancient Near East, which runs from 1:30 to 2:45. I actually got to the class a little early, and sat against the brick wall. The cold emanating from it feels nice on my sore side and back. After about 15 minutes Phuong came creeping down the hall with her cell phone to her ear. She hung up by the time she got to my comfy spot against the wall. I had finally remembered to bring her "Third Watch" tape with the season premiere on it. Phuong slid down the wall next to me and offered me a piece of gum. "Are you feeling any better? You don't look like you're feeling well at all! I can see it in your eyes." She managed to wrangle a promise out of me that I would return to the doctor. The kids from Military History began streaming out of DMH 165 and we both stood up. "You promised!" She said as she made her way to her sociology class. After class was over, we talked about possible plans for the weekend. Alejandro is in four of my classes this semester and Ancient Near East is one of them. Right in front of Alejandro Phuong says "You should call those fuckers at Schmiser and tell them you're going to sue unless they help you!"
Alejandro turns and looks at me and asks "What, for your cough? What's it been, like two weeks?"
"Two weeks, try two months!" Phuong shook her head in disgust. She continued "Walk her to her car-- and make sure she doesn't pass out!" (groan) How embarrasing, I think to myself. Alejandro is the oldest in our group of friends and seems to have taken the role of big brother. When we go to Cafe Pomegrante, which is right across from the History building (Dudley Morehead Hall, or DMH for short.) he always treats me, which is pretty nice of him considering that I'm not his girl friend or relative. He's just old fashioned like that, which is really nice. (But, also, I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage of him. So I always always *try* to pay, even though he tells me my money is no good.) Alejandro was in my Historiography class last Spring. After hearing that I was being hassled by this homeless dude who hung out on campus, he started walking me clear across campus to my car, even though his bus stop was in the complete opposite direction. He's a sweetie.
Anyway, Alejandro walked me to my car and off I went. As soon as I got home, I went outside to check my mail box-- to see if I got anything cool. (All I got was a bill for my CAT scan last month.) After watching a little TV, I was taking a laundry basket out to the the washer. There are only three steps in the house, so I guess it figures that if I was going to get dizzy and lose my balance, it would be there. So uh, yeah. I think I sprained my left wrist. I collected all my laundry with my good hand and tossed various articles into the washer.
The rest of the day and night was spent finishing writing my speech about Confucius (K'ung Fu Tzu). Also, each student had to prepare a handout to pass out to the entire class. My handout ended up being 6 pages, but it was very thorough and I felt good about it. I used all different colors of paper-- so I had pink packets, green packets, and yellow packets. Because white is sooooo boring. I got to bed at about midnight.
Tuesday morning came early. I woke up a little early because I was a little nervous about my speech and also wanted to go to the library and check out some books to use as visual aids. After spending half my coins, I had exactly 60 cents. I was standing in Novel Cafe, jealously eyeing all the food and drinks that I couldn't afford. After studying the menu in line I found one thing I could buy. A small cake donut with rainbow sprinkles on top. When I got up to the register though, the dude gave the BIG donut, the $1 donut even though I was 40 cents short.
After about half an hour of lecture it was my turn to do my speech. I wasn't too nervous at this point, I've almost earned my minor in Eastern Religions, so I felt like I knew my stuff pretty well. One of the books I checked out was a comic book version of the sayings of Confucius, the other was The Analects. My speech went really well and I said all I wanted to say. The only problem is that I kept coughing after almost every sentence. ("Sorry guys. I've got kind've a cold, so you'll have to bare with me.") After I was done, the professor told the whole class "You're going to want to hang on to this because it will be very helpful for the midterm." I'd almost forgotten what academic success felt like after all those freakin' nursing classes.
My mom and I were supposed to have lunch Tuesday afternoon, but she ditched me at the last minute. So I came home and had peanut butter sandwichs made out of ritz crackers. Spent the rest of the day reading for my Africa to 1800 class.
Africa class is packed. I don't think Professor Kline even accepted any adds. You've got to get to class early to get a desk, otherwise you end up on the floor. (Just like high school.)
Danh is my only real friend in Africa class. The other person I sort of know is Carl. He misses alot of classes. He's a paramedic up in EPA (East Palo Alto) which was the murder capital of the States back in the early 90's. I guess he's got a better excuse than the rest of us. "Oh sorry I couldn't make it to class-- some guy was bleeding to death in the back of my ambulance." I bet that's just what he says too.
During our snack break, class runs from 6pm to 8:45pm, Danh and I went to the library to make copies of something Phuong had given me. As we were leaving the copy area, I lifted my backpack when Danh says "Hey, you should probably let me carry that." 'what?' "No, that's okay man, I've got it." I tried to reassure. "But, but you're hurt and sick!" he said as he gestured for me to give him my backpack. I know he's just trying to be nice, but I don't want to be *that* kind of girl. Some weak thing that people pity. Besides, there's this last shred of dignity that I'm desperately clinging to.
On the escalator I announced that I was going to go to a Novel CAfe and get some hot chocolate and Danh followed me. When we were in line, this guy on my right side slapped my hip and said really, really loudly "DAMN BABY, You are turning me ON!" Everyone just sort of stopped and turned to look. He was gesturing to my newest accessory, a pair of handcuufs that hang from my chain belt. Danh looked at me as if to ask "who the hell is this guy?' This guy was also a history major. I knew him from History of the Vietnam War, which we both took in Fall of 2003. When out turn at the counter came, I dug out my wallet and ordered my hot chocolate but Danh said "Don't worry about it, I got it." "Are you positive?" I queried. "No problem". The three of us made awkward conversation until our orders came up. On the way back to class, Danh lit another cigarette and tried to avoid blowing smoke my way. By the time we got to class, the movie about christianity in Ethipoia had already started. We sat in different parts of the class and when I got back to my seat, some guy was sitting it it. So I had to sit on the floor for 45 minutes.
Tuesday night, when I was writing my prospectus and bibliography for my writing workshop class, the computer decided to freeze on me. I was trying to open a file on a disc when it happened. *crap* I couldn't even open it-- had to do it all over again. I didn't get to bed until 2am.
Wednesday morning was awful. I felt like I hadn't even gotten any sleep. My alarm clock went off for probably 10 minutes before I realised it. I remember having this dream where I was on a space craft that was going down-- crashing into a moon and the proximity alerts were going off. (What do you want from me, I already confessed to being a sci fi geek.) Then it dawned on me that it was my alarm clocking buzzing at me. Even though I wanted to go back to sleep, I figured I couldn't miss Religion class again. So off I shuffled, to a lecture on the Durkheimian approach to the sociological study of religion. Staying awake was a challenge. After class I sped back home because I needed to finish my prospectus and bibliography. Even though Imissed the first twenty minutes of my Ancient Near East class, I got my work done. I did miss the beginning of the lecture about Egypt though, which kinda sucked.
All we did in 100W class was turn in our work and decide not to meet until October 13th. Dammit! That's when MTV is airing the "Making of the Video" for Gwen Stefani's What You Waiting For. Why does everything always happen at once?
Both Lisa and Phuong have a 6pm class on Wednesday, but lucky me does not. Phuong wanted fries and Lisa wanted a shake, so we went to Peggy Sue's in San Pedro Square, right next to the Old Spaghetti Factory. As the name would suggest, Peggy Sue's is one of those '50's diners, but with a twist. It's also a hockey bar-- all the Sharks fans go there after the game, sometimes a Shark does too. But because of the hockey strike, we were the only people in there. I ordered a grilled cheese, Phuong ordered a California Club, and Lisa got, Bingo you guessed right, a grilled tuna salad sandwich. After we orderes Lisa looked at me after taking a swig of vanilla shake, "I just love how like, every two weeks you're dead!" Phuong flipped on her phone and left a message for Lon.
Apparently, while Danh and I had gone to the library, Lon went to our class to check up on me. When I wasn't there, he called Phuong and left some freaked out message. He's really more her friend then mine. Anyway, my cell was off that night and when she couldn't get a hold of me, she imagined the worst. Me in a hospital bed. Rumors started to swirl through the depeartment Wednesday morning. So, apparently I've cheated death!
Also, Phuong was invited by her crush of 2 years to go to a sports bar after class. She was all proud "Can you believe it! He gave ME his phone number!"
All I wanted to do Wednesday night was sleep, but alas, I had two quizzes to study for. Even though I'm so tired most of the time, sleeping isn't as easy as it used to be, with all the coughing. Sometimes when I cough or breathe out, I can hear this rattling sound. It sucks. I've still got my left wrist wrapped up too. This kind of crap isn't supposed to happen until a person is in her 80s. Thursday morning the vending machine wouldn't accept my coins. So I ate-- absolutely nothing. The Breakfast of Champions.
When did this happen? When did I become this sick weak girl with circles under her eyes? When did I become a pitiable creature?
Oh well.
Before I go, does anyone remember that show "Space: Above and Beyond"? It was on in '95 and '96 I think. Last night I dug out my tape and started re-watching it while I typed this post the first time. I was so pissed off at Fox when the cancelled that show.
http://www.cyberpursuits.comheckifIknow/saab/default.asp.
The Fox Network: Where Good Shows Go To Die.
FARSCAPE UPDATE: The "Peacekeeper Wars" is scheduled to heir on October 17th on the SCi Fi channel. Also, the sci fi network is supposed to begin heiring nightly re-reruns soon. Check your TV Guide.
http://www.scifi.com/farscape/
GWEN STEFANI UPDATE: According to Billboard.com and Gwen Stefani's own site, the forthcoming dance album will be called "Love, Angel, Music, Baby."
Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish
<3 Tragic Tuyen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)