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
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