Merry Christmas

from Dodger, Tragic and Sean

Best TV shows you never watched...

I blame you. Yes you! You lazy people who never give exciting new TV shows a chance. You know who you are. You're the viewer who watches the latest remix of "Survivor", "American Idol", or (god help you) that really awful show where people eat worms and drink 100 year old eggnog to win money. So I hold you responsible for the death of the following shows.

Dead Like Me

Here is what Entertainment Weekly had to say about this promising show back in 2003:

''Dead Like Me'' begins with a renegade toilet seat breaking free from the Mir space station and plummeting to earth, flattening aimless teen Georgia ''George'' Lass (Ellen Muth). Once dead, she finds direction via a grim reaper named Rube (''Chicago Hope'''s Mandy Patinkin, pictured with Muth), who talks George into spending her afterlife collecting souls. ''We facilitate their journey, wherever they're headed,'' says Patinkin, whose reaping team includes the bubbleheaded Betty (Rebecca Gayheart) and the rough-and-tumble Roxy (Jasmine Guy). Though George is initially sullen about her soul-trolling duties, is it really any surprise that death helps her, you know, appreciate life? ''I love the last line in the pilot,'' says Patinkin, who hasn't done series TV since he left ''Hope'' in 2000. ''George is sitting in the closet, looking at the young sister she never recognized in life, and says, 'I think for me, death was just a wake-up call.''' -- Lynette Rice

This show was a real gem. It was a shame that it only ran for two seasons. I really identified with the smart-ass Georgia and her struggle to become a grown up-- in life and in death.

2. Wonderfalls

Here is what Entertainment Weekly had to say about this show:


"The pitch must have sounded preposterous: ''There's this girl, Jaye. She just graduated from Brown, returns home to Niagara Falls, moves into a trailer park, and gets a job at a souvenir shop. Animal figurines start commanding her to do God's work, which leads to a huge revelation about her estranged sister and an emergency tracheotomy. Oh, and we want a former Canadian child star for the lead.'' The funny thing is, Wonderfalls works -- due to the charismatic and soulful performance of Quebec native Caroline Dhavernas, 25, who has the potential to be Fox's biggest (and flightiest) heroine since Ally McBeal.

EW What attracted you to the role?

CD I love that she has a philosophy degree and works in retail. It's different from what I had seen on television recently.

EW Well, how about that other sullen girl who takes orders from God on CBS?

CD Joan of Arcadia is much more dramatic, and it's quite different to talk to animals than the people she interacts with. Plus, Jaye doesn't want to help people. Helping people to her is disgusting.

EW Are you prepared if this show takes off?

CD I lived a little bit of it in Quebec -- we have our own little star system there. A show becomes really huge and no one else in the world hears about it."

This was another brilliant show that didn't even last a whole season. It was cancelled, I believe after a mere 6 episodes. You can order the complete first (alas, only) season through Amazon.com. This show was just so far out, which I absolutely loved. Again, what I really appreciated about the main character was her ennui: a grafuate from Brown who is so disaffected she works at a souvenir shop in Niagara Falls. One of my favourite episodes is "Karma Chameleon."

3.Firefly

"Take my love, take my land, take me where I cannot stand." Sweet Lord in Heaven, did I ever love this show. Here's what EW had to say:

Lordy, does Joss Whedon ever love to tell a story, spin a yarn, get off a good 'un. Along with David Chase (''The Sopranos'') and J.J. Abrams (''Alias''), Whedon does what too many feature filmmakers these days do not: entrance us with elaborate narratives in which small, precise details add up to a coherent philosophy -- a worldview.

"In the new Firefly, Whedon's messages are: Learn to take care of yourself, because no one else is going to; and be stronger, smarter, faster than the next guy/gal, or he/she will get the drop on you. The show is Whedon's daring attempt to go where men have gone before all too often: to the frontier -- two frontiers, at that.

The notion of yoking the Western to science fiction isn't original. Michael Crichton did it 29 years ago in ''Westworld'' (remember Yul Brynner's robot gunslinger?), and while I never watched ''Star Trek,'' even I know there was at least one transporting-into-the-Old-West episode. But ''Firefly'' benefits enormously from Whedon's ability to take the clichés of any genre and give them a good, hard yank.

This series is the brawling saga of Capt. Mal Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) and the crew of his ship, Serenity, on the run from a totalitarian, multiplanet regime called the Alliance. We're told that Reynolds and his rebels -- who call themselves Independents -- will accept ''any job, anywhere'' to keep fuel in their tank and food free-floating through their space capsule. This means, in the premiere, agreeing to thieve cargo for some brutish space goons led by a graying baddie with a vaguely European accent, of whom Mal says, ''He's not the first psycho to hire us, nor the last.''

Excellent: moral relativism, plus a crew member (Gina Torres) who blasts people with (I'm dating myself here, but so is ''Firefly'') a sawed-off shotgun just like the one that Steve McQueen used in the 1958-61 series ''Wanted: Dead or Alive.'' Add to that Mal taking a bowie knife in the shoulder in the first episode and self-consciously funny dialogue like ''Time for some thrilling heroics!'' -- and count me as being on board for this sucker. Grade: B+"

Sadly, this show also died a premature death. It barely ran one whole season, but you can buy the complete DVD box set from any quality techie store. Also, you can buy the big screen movie, "Serenity" that starts up after the cancellation of this unique 'verse I came to love so. If you have never seen either, I recommend buying the DVD set of the tv episodes first and then the movie. Trust me. It's far better to see a story such as ths in chronological order. (Unless your FOX network, in which case you will air the episodes out of order, and then only after the series is being cancelled, air the pilot episode.

FOX TV: Where Great TV Goes To Die!!!

(off to bed)

xoxox Tragic

Books Read 2005

Well, the year is almost up. Every year, I tally up the books I have read and enter them in a list. I've been doing this since 1999, which probably makes me really obsessive compulsive.

Anyhow, Here's my (gasp!! very very short) list for 2005:

1. Reading Lolita In Tehran: A Memoir In Books by Azar Nafisi

2. Finding Serenity: Anti- Heroes, Lost Shepherds and Space Hookers in Joss Whedon's "Firefly" Edited by Jane Espenson

3. A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray

4. Witch Child by Celia Rees

5. Maus II by Art Speigelman


6. Wicked by G. Maguire

I hang my head in shame. 12 whole months and all I read were 6 books. Ack! What has happened to me??



xoxox Tragic

Sunday's Suck

Sundays are the worst day of the week. Sunday evenings are the worst time of the week. Because you know, you just know Monday morning is on the way.

As the Great Dylan once said, "My weariness amazes me." And so, I'm off to bed.

Happy Holidays,
love, Tragic

Germs suck!

arghhhhhhhhhhh

Sick again! About three weeks ago, I got permission from my boss to take October 14th and 17th off. (Yes, Tragic is a working girl now.) My plan? To fly back to good ol' San Jose and visit with the family (and of course mi perro, Dodger.) My dad and I, Firefly fans from way back, wanted to go see "Serenity" together. Although I always miss my husband when we are separated, I also had a case of home-sickness. I hadn't seen my family or SJ friends since right after the wedding. Of course I missed Pizza Fresh (The B*E*S*T pizza in the entire world) and Hukilau and Tsuguru.

My sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and little nephew are visiting from Arizona, so Sean and I have been quite busy lately. There was a haunted house, haunted hay-ride, 3-d maze, street festivals, and so forth. Last Saturday we went to the Pacific Beach Street Faire, which was very cool. (also literally, as there was much fog.) My sweetie bought me a ring with a heart shaped amber stone. I bought myself two Chinese-themed parasols which I love. To tell you the truth, the whole inspiration came from a scene right out of "Serenity", the very first two-hour episode. (This was supposed to be the pilot, but FOX executives, showing off their usual stellar stupidity, decided to air the pilot episode last-- after the show had already been cancelled.) There is a scene at the Eavesdown docks where Kaylee twirls a beautiful parasol behind her.

Anyhow, after all this, my poor husband started to feel ill on Tuesday. And then, despite our best efforts, I fell ill yesterday.

(Tragic needs sleep, to be continued.)

x0x0x0x0 Tragic Tuyen

PS. I miss you and love you more than you will ever know, my husband

Hey you with the wedding dress on, With the white chiffon blowin' in the wind...

I've returned form my blogging vacation. The past month or so has been crazy-busy for me. Along with unpacking all of my belongings in San Diego, I also had to contend with the last few details of the wedding. After waiting almost too long, I placed the order for both wedding flowers and wedding cake. I'd say 95% of my wedding stress was caused by a really mean bridesmaid of mine, whom I actually ended up relieving of her duties. (I'll write more about this later.)

The wedding was beautiful! I couldn't have asked for a better wedding. Everything went perfect (there was only ene tiny glitch in the music.) I just wish my grandfather and my best friend, Dodger could have attended.

Oh, by the way, my mom has started up a new website called: http://shadesofgreen.fotopages.com. You should check it out. ; )

xoxo Tragic Saturn (brand new wife.)

Sandbox Pin Up Challange Pic

Punk Rock Mommy has put together a Sandbox Pin Up challange for female bloggers and here's mine.

XOXOXO

Fire Is Rarely A Sign Of Imminent Safety

After my stay in San Diego, it was time for me to drive back to good ol' San Jo. It was Saturday, June 4th. I'd been back in town to move as well as to take a marriage prep class with a few other couples and the Chaplain. Friday afternoon was spent on the beach, taking it easy.

But Saturday I was headed home to doggie sit, since my dad would be out of town. That morning I woke up with a terrible kink in my right shoulder. After breakfast in bed and a hot shower, there was no improvement. I had to get going anyway. It was already 1pm, and if I waited any longer, I'd be getting home at 11pm.

I sadly waved goodbye to my fiance and climbed into my dad's behemoth of a van. After filling up the gas tank and buying some sunglasses (I'd lost my previous pair) I hit the open road. Although I had horrible visions of terrible Los Angeles traffic, the situation wasn't that bad.

Listening to mix tapes, I quickly zipped from La Mirada to the Grapevine. The radiator and all the other important parts ran wonderfully going up the mountains, although I did shift down one gear. Soon, I was cruising up the fruited plains of I-5, blaring the tape player. Earlier in the day, I'd taken a naproxen to end my hideous pain, and it was actually working.

Feeling still unfamiliar with the van, I decided not to take any chances. I pulled off the freeway at Harris Ranch (Coalinga) and refueled. Not wanting to stop again for more gas, I decide to top off the tank. I went into the snack shop to see if they had any postcards, which they didn't. I'm so used to my sedan that I was shocked, SHOCKED, to return to the van to see it had taken $56 worth of gas! I climbed back up into the drivers seat, turned the key, and merged back onto the freeway. In the distance, I saw some smoke, but it was way off on the left side of the freeway, so I wasn't worried.

Since I had so few audio tapes for this trip, I'd turned off the tape deck. As I drove down the highway, I could hear the wind pick up a bit. Being in such an unaerodynamic vehicle, I also begin to feel the wind batter the van, ever so gently. The smoke in the distance created a beautiful, if not slighty foreboding effect as the sun set. The sunset, bright sunflower yellow where the smoke had not drifted across, soon became a magnificent, menacing volcanic orange. 'If Sean were here,' I thought with a smile 'he'd be snapping away with his digicam.'

After about ten minutes or so, some smoke began to blow my way, but I wasn't really worried about it. The wind was just blowing the smoke from a distant fire in my direction, I figured. Nothing to worry about. Another few minutes went by, but I was still unconcerned even as heavier smoke blew my way. (Yet not enough smoke to hamper my vision.) As I drove on, I made out a strange shape in the distance. I was in the fast lane, or number one lane, and I could swear I something coming towards me. A few seconds went by and I changed lanes just in time to see a newish sedan speed by in the wrong direction. True, the driver had the hazard lights on but I-5 is a major artery from the Bay Area to Los Angeles.

'Holy Crap! What's up with that?' I thought to myself as the car sped along, southbound in the northbound lanes. I refocused my attention on the highway ahead of me, still wandering about the previous aberation.

About five minutes ticked by as I drove on in silence. Then, the smoke became heavy. The light gray smoke which could have been coming from some one's chimney gave way to thick, slate coloured clouds. I gently applied the brakes and turned on the headlights. I could make out the headlights of the car in front of me, for a little while. Once again, the wind picked up. I quickly sped up, and after about twenty dreadful seconds, the blue sky appeared above me.

My relief, however, was short lived. Gusts of smoke battered the driver's side of the van, and caused me to slow down even more. By this time, the red tale lights of the little Japanese car which had been in front of me are gone. I quickly checked my rear view mirror and noticed that there were no cars behind me. In need of advice, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed my fiance. Surely he'd have an idea or two. Having finally memorised his number, I punch in his number, only to get his voice mail. 'Crap,' I thought. With my mind starting to shift into overdrive, I started to leave a very disjointed message. I tried my very hardest not to cry as I talked into his voice mail. The same thought kept recurring to me...

I was alone.

At precisely 7:28:54pm, I place a call to 911. Up until that moment in my life, I fortunately have never had to dial that number. (Even with all the car accidents I've been in.) So you can imagine my surprise when the phone on the other end rings 3, 5, and finally 10 times before I hear a recorded message. My sarcasm begins to kick in, 'What if a crazed gunman was chasing me?' 10 rings is an awful long time to wait. First in English, then in Spanish, that my call will be recorded and that I need to relay my approximate whereabouts. Finally, the operator picked up and asked me to explain the nature of my emergency. As I told her the nature of my problem, and relayed my location, she replied "Yes, we've had several calls of a huge wild fire in that area. The fire department is on their way. I'm almost certain she asked if I could see any flames and at that particular moment, I could not. So she told me to be careful and that was the end of our call.

By this point in time, I couldn't see anything. Blackness descended, as if someone had blind- folded me. I turned in my hazard lights and pulled off to the right hand shoulder. I didn't exactly know what to do, it didn't seem wise to keep going down the highway when I couldn't see anything. As I sat on the side of the road, I heard a 'Woosh' sound.

I turned my head to the left and saw a wall of bright orange. Given the apparent choice of driving into the unknown, or having a full tank of fuel come into contact with a wild fire, I picked the first option. As fast as my fingers could do so, I turn the key in the ignition, and shift into drive. My right foot punched the gas pedal, hard.

As I forcefully applied the gas pedal, I could hear the whine of the engine. (A V-8 engine, but one, nevertheless, with 153,000 miles on it.) In front of me, blackness is punctuated by bright orange swirls. The temperature begins to rise. It feels like I've got the heater on maximum. Sweat drips down my forehead into my eyes. I can hear the air screaming through the wings in front of the wind-down windows. Soon enough, noxious smoke begans to pour in. That's about the point when I started to cough. I felt a tightness in my chest. The wind still battered against me. It seemed like I was in a vortex. Driving in a straight line became a challenge, and the overall effect was that I was a barreling down the center of both lanes. Bright orange flashes flickered in my peripheral vision and sweat stung my eyes. I hoped with all my being there were no cars stopped in front of me, because the spedometer was maxed out at 85, with the needle actually hovering past the last numbers on the gauge. I started to cough more and thought 'This might be it.'

It's funny how fast your brain can work sometimes. In the amount of time it took to have the aforementioned thought, I remembered what it felt like to have a laser treatment. I remembered the pain, the heat of the last treatment I had. The throbbing. The burning. The blistering. And that was only half an arm. With all the force I could muster, I pushed down on that gas pedal. Hoping it would help the van carry me from painful wounds or a horrible, exploding death. Smoke is coming through the vents even though I don't have the climate control on.

After one last bright flash of neon orange, the smoke eased up a bit. I could make out traffic ahead of me and quickly slowed down and pulled into the slow lane. Traffic ahead of me was stopped.

This was about the time that Sean called me. Despite my best efforts, I start to cry, through my coughs, as we talk on the phone. Just as I thought he would, he gives me advice. Since I'm idling on the freeway with a fire nearby, he tells me to turn off the engine. As I talk to him, cars start speeding up the shoulders on both sides as the fire edges towards us in the median. A U-Haul truck blazes by me on the right hand shoulder, probably going about 80 miles per hour.

As I talk to Sean, there is still no sign of any fire department trucks.

Finally, I see one truck edging towards us in the median.

Ever so slowly, traffic begins edging forward. Sean and I say good bye. Those of us who have made it through the fire storm form a sort of convoy. We start of slowly at first, wary of smoke and flames. But after a while, the smoke is behind us.

I count my lucky stars, and, as traffic speeds up, I put a No Doubt tape into the deck. While I try to relax again, the pain in my shoulder comes back. It feels like barbed wire had unspooled in my shoulder.

Oh well. At least I didn't burn to death.

~ Tragic Saturn

(For a different version of this story, read the archives of Doc in the Box.)

A Very Long Drive (With The Man I Love)

With the van being all packed, Sean and I set out to San Diego from San Jose. Sean took the first turn behind the wheel as we headed south on that Tuesday morning. We stopped for breakfast at the world famous Casa de Fruta (http://www.casadefruta.com/VISIT_restaurant.html). I ordered the Bacon, Avocad0, and Cheese omelette, while Sean ordered Fish 'n' Chips. The waitress was super nice, she brought me so many water refills, I lost count. Unfortunately, the "cup flipper" has long since retired. Many moons ago, on a senior tour bus trip, my grandparents saw his act and told me about it.

Casa de Fruta is about 12 miles from my mom's house in Hollister. I sent some goodies from the fruit stand in a package to some army aviators, via Books For Soldiers. I still write to one of those guys-- he's happily married to a wonderful woman with two adorable kids. He's in paradise, literally-- when he got back from Iraq he was transferred to Hawaii! (Maybe Sean and I will party crash and stay with them if we go there on our honeymoon!)

After our breakfast, we hit the fruit stand and bought some dried pineapple. That's my favourite. How can anyone say "no" to that super sweetness? (And if you can, I ask, what's wrong with you?) On our drive down, I played DJ. My dad's van has no cd player. We have a CD/ tape adaptor that we use in his car, but the van is just too noisy that we wouldn't have been able to hear it. I've never seen the van so full! It was practically stacked from floor to ceiling.

Since I'm becoming a veteran of this route, I'm learning where the cheap gas stations are. This knowledge was gained after being ripped off several times in the middle of that desolate nowhere along Interstate 5. After filling up the van, I took my turn behind the wheel.

My dad is an avid viewer of "The David Letterman Show", and I remember seeing an episode where Paris Hilton was a guest. Mr. Letterman asked her what it was like driving that huge motorhome around the US. She answered that she was used to driving a Porshe, and driving a motorhome was like driving four Porches put together.

This is how I felt behind the wheel of the van. I'd driven it around town before, even taken it down to Beverley Hills. But never had I attempted to drive the thing packed so full. As we started to climb up the Grapevine, I noticed the wind pushing against us. I slipped the van into second gear and tried not to over react to the wind. Believe it or not, we did lap some cars and trucks going up the mountain. Who's driving makes a big difference! : )

Instead of taking I-5 straight through downtown L.A, we decide to take a chance on 60 East (the Pomona Freeway). I made one lane change to the right, getting ready to move all the way over to exit when Sean says "Oh no, It's a left exit." This means I have to move back over to the left. Once I put my blinker on, though, all the drivers in the other lane seem to ride the bumper of the car in front of them. Freakin' LA! Eventually I make it over, and away we go, away from the horrible Interstate 5 traffic!

S0 it was a bit disheartening to hit an equally large, possibly bigger traffic jam on 60. Faced with the slow-n-go traffic, we decided dinner was in order. I exited on Garfield Avenue, and we planned to grab something at Carl's Jr, or Taco Bell. We drove and drove and drove. Nothing but houses, we'd ended up in a residential area. Finally, we hit an area with shops and cafes. I pulled my behemoth vehicle into a free parking lot, and we made out way to the Eight Cafe. After using the bathroom, we were surprised to discover that everything on the menu, and on the walls, was in Chinese. The waitress didn't know any English at all, except, apparently, for the phrase "Beef Stew!" She said it several times, rather excitedly, as we indicated that we didn't speak Chinese. She seemed truly disappointed when we left.

We left the first establishment, walked a bit, then crossed the street. The second place had menus in English, and we placed our orders. It was only after that waitress brought tea for us that we saw the "cash only" sign. Neither of us had any cash that moment, so, after cancelling our order, we moved along. On the opposite side of the street, we once again passed the Eight Cafe. We saw one huge Asian grocery store, one of those Boba tea places, and quite a few beauty salons. Finally, we saw another restaurant! We were near the Intersection of Garfield and Garvey. The name of the place was Mei Mei Seafood Restaurant. If memory serves, "mei mei" is Chinese for little sister, so I'm thinking "Little Sister Seafood Restaurant. (I could be wrong though!) There was English on the menus and a VISA sticker on the window, so we were set! We happily sat down with our growling empty tummies.

Apparently, when we'd gotten off the freeway, we driven into Montebello's Chinatown. For a girl like me, with a bit of wanderlust, I've always wanted to go to different foreign places, exotic places. As we wandered down Garvey Avenue, I thought "This is probably the closest I'll ever get to the real China!"

I can honestly say that I've never been to a place with a similar menu. For appetizers, there was calamari, oysters, pig ears, and parts of a duck that I didn't even know could be eaten. On the wall were eight by ten photographs of their various specialties. The few I remember include South African scallops, which was in the neighborhood of $30, and some sort of Spicy Schezuan (Hmm, I can't spell that, but I think you all know what I'm trying to say, lol) Clam dish. I believe that Sean ordered Kung Pao Seafood, while I ordered the Seafood with Pan fried Noodles.

MMm! My dinner was so yummy! The sauce went great with the noodles, and helped soften their crunch. My favourite seafood for that dinner was scallops, which I'd never ever had before. Sean and I shared our meals and compared the tastes.

We slowly made our way back to the van with full tummies. Sean volunteeres to drive because we thought that, in order to exit the parking lot, we'd have to make a tricky left turn across Garfield Avenue. Sean snuck us down an alley though, and we went around the block. After getting back on the freeway, we found more traffic. Not as bad as before, but enough to slow us down from time to time. East we drove, until we hit Interstate 15. Although the day had been very long, we finally slipped into the parking place in front of the house. It was 9:30pm.

(for more of your heroine's adventure, please stay tuned!)

xoxox Tragic Tuyen

Graduation Day (Part 2)

Morning came early! I could barely open my eyes. My parents were already up, already showered. I let Sean sleep a little longer and took a shower. After getting done with that, I got dressed, and (with my mom's help) made Sean some coffee.

As usual, with my parents being involved, we were one of the first families to show up for graduation. We parked in the old shuttle bus lot and made our way to the bleachers. Sean bought me an orchid lei, which was absolutely beautiful. I'd always wanted to wear one after seeing them in the past. Sean and I wandered around the mostly desolate Spartan stadium taking pictures. Also, we bought a giant pretzel and shared it. Around 9am, all of the graduates had to make their way to the various staging areas.

Not wanting to leave my fiance, I grudgingly made my way to the Social Sciences crowd. Our of the 29 history graduates, only 9 of us actually showed up for the big university-wide graduation. With it being so early, I fully understood why.

After waiting around for 45 minutes, our group finally began the long march to our seating area. On the way there, we were given our free license plate frames and had our pictures taken (I haven't gotten mine in the mail yet.) Our commencement speaker was Dr. Lily Wong Fillmore ("an international authority on literacy and second language learning and a life-long champion of helping immigrant children with language skills.") After her speech, the honorary degrees were given to Tommie Smith (Bronze Medal, 200 meter dash) and John Carlos (Gold Medal, 200 meter dash.) You may remember them from the 1968 Mexico City Olympics. Both San Jose State graduates, they protested the state of civil rights in the United States by raising black gloved fists during the medal ceremony. Although the political statement was incredibly unpopular in 1968 (some people thought their medals should be revoked), with the passing decades, they earned more and more respect.

At this point, the sun was beginning to sort of come out. It was a chilly, cloudy San Jose morning. We graduates were all getting antsy. The crazy business majors were trying to get "the wave" going. All around me, people were on their cell phones. Phuong skipped graduation because it was too early for her to wake up. Every once in awhile, if I looked around the kid in front of me with the big block head, I could make out Sean and my parents.

But there was more waiting. First, we had to wait for all the master's candidates to be confirmed and hooded. This took forever in the business and engineering colleges.

Finally, it was our turn. The College of Social Sciences went last, but when we were announced and confirmed, we all screamed, waved, and jumped up and down. The communications majors threw confetti!

And just like that, we were officially Graduated!! All of that hard work over all those years finally paid off. I made my way to my family and we made our way back to the car. By the time we got back to the house, my uncle and grandparents were already there. I introduced Sean to my Uncle, but he'd already met everyone else. Also, after a little bit of time, Preyma, my oldest and bestest friend ever showed up. I felt so bad because she had to take BART and then get a ride from her dad.

In addition to my orchid lei, I also got flowers from my dad and Preyma. It figures that with this rapid influx of flowers, the vases would all be in boxes in San Diego. I had to use a water pitcher for one bouquet.

For food, we had my grandma's famous macaroni salad, barnecued chicken and hot dogs, vegetarian pizza from Pizza Fresh (the best pizza in the entire world!!!), and Sean's legendary curry! My maternal grandma absolutely loved the curry, as she has an affinity for spicy food. Don't forget, dessert!

We had a giant chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate filling! So so yummy! It said "Congratulations for the graduate, 2005!", and had yellow and blue roses on it. As I cut the cake, I made sure that I got a rose.

Around 6pm, everyone started heading home. Sean and I drove Meera to Fremont so she could catch BART back to Berkeley. We were both so tired that night that we could barely stay awake past 10pm.

The next day we'd have to get an early start, because we were driving up to Sacramento to visit with Collin. I was afraid we'd hit serious Memorial Day traffic, but we got off super easy. Sean bought peppered mangos, which I'd never had before. (I'd never even heard of such a thing.) We all went to see "Madagascar," since "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" wasn't showing. It was pretty funny for a kid's movie, can you imagine that Chris Rock is the main character? Afterwards, we went and had ice cream at Marble Slab. The sweets were followed by lots of shopping in these two outdoor malls.

I didn't think about it until after the fact. I could just imagine Sean's son going home with dinner ready. Only, of course, he wouldn't be hungry because he had just eaten a sundae as big as his head. (It was pretty close, actually.) Oops! Anyway, we had a really good time, and like our trip North, we hit very little traffic on the way home.

The next day, Monday, was spent packing up my dad's van with quite a few of my belongings. My dad and I wanted to take Sean to Tsuguru, our favourite Japanese restaurant. But like most of the restaurants we could think of, they were closed for the holiday. We ended up having vegetarian pizza from Round Table, left over macaroni salad, and of course, cake.

Unfortunately, we couldn't have any of Sean's curry, because it met a dark end. My dad was attempting to put it in a container and place it in the icebox when it slipped from his fingers. I was so sad to see the splattered curry, and I felt bad for Sean having put so much effort into it. That night, Sean and I finally got to see"The Grudge," which we'd been trying to see for months.

It spooked me good! Silly me, I thought I was over my fear of the dark.

The next day, we set off on a long drive to sunny San Diego!

xoxoxox Tragic Tuyen

Graduation Day (Part 1)

Graduation Day finally came! I never thought it would, at times. On Friday, May 27th, the small history department graduation was held. In attendance were 27 out of 28 graduates, family, friends, and faculty. We graduates had to be there an hour early, 3pm. The graduation itself was held at 4pm.

After escorting my family, mom, dad, and grandma, to the engineering building where the graduation would take place– the history building is very old and not at all fancy, while the engineering building is sparkling gem, you can tell what college the university values most– I made my way to Dudley Moorehead Hall. Once I was there I met up with Phuong, *the* crush of two years, and other peeps. After I picked up my gag diploma, we all headed outside for pictures. We had a few taken of the three of us, and then I took several of Phuong and the crush.

I had left my brand new camera with my mom. My fiancé (the most wonderful man in the entire world) had got my present to me a few days early. He had bought for me.... the Harajuku Lovers Camera (HP Photosmart R607)!!! I never ever expected such a wonderful present! In case you are not familiar with it, this would be the camera co-designed by Gwen Stefani and HP. It’s a digital camera that has 4.1 megapixels. I’m not quite sure what that means, but it must be important because it is written rather prominently on the box.

After taking pictures of our own, then we gathered for pictures by the professional photographer. I had opted not to buy a picture because it was a bit too steep for my blood. The photographer made us stand in two different places and kept rearranging us before he actually took any pictures. Plus, he would not let us keep our sunglasses on.

Following pictures, we were once again rounded up by faculty members. For the last time, we sat in DMH 150 while Prof. Underdahl gave us our directions. He was in the military for a long time and taught at a military college. While speaking to us, he proceeded to draw a diagram on the white board on how we would....

1. Enter the Lecture Hall where the ceremony would be held

2. File into rows and seats, in alphabetical order (including contingency plan in case we ran out of chairs)

3. Cross the stage when our names were held

4. File out of the lecture hall.

Despite several diagrams with many arrows in different colors, we still managed to get all messed up. Hey, I was listening to the instructions!

After a very long commencement speech by Dr. Vasquez, our names were read and we crossed the stage.

VOILA!!

We were now officially graduated!! It was a very surreal experience for me. During my long hard slog through academia, I just never ever thought the day would come!

After we left the theatre, Prof. Cirvilerri came up to me and congratulated me. He asked me about my future plans, grad school and so forth. When my parents caught up with us, he told my family about what a wonderful student I had been, and about my incredible presentation on V.I. Lenin. It turns out that he had done his dissertation on Lenin and that I did very good, thorough work. (Sorry, I don’t get to brag very much about academic praise with my measly 3.2 GPA.)

The history department had a sort of picnic/ buffet waiting for us. While my parents and I were snacking (my poor allergy prone mother could only have the lemonade because she was unsure of all the other ingredients) Dr. Reynolds came up and congratulated me. I really wasn’t expecting that he’d remember me, but he did. He too asked about my plans, grad school, careers, etc. I took two classes with him, History of World War II and History of China from 1600. For our term paper in WWII class, I chose to write about the Battle for Stalingrad, because the directions were very vague. Anyway, it turned out I’d written on the wrong topic– I was not the only one to do so. When I got my 30 page paper back, he had written something like "Did you even read the term paper guidelines? If so, it is not apparent. Nevertheless, you have done a fine job which deserves to be rewarded." He game me an A-. I was always sort of afraid of screwing up in his classes after that.

Dr. Underdahl also came up to me to say goodbye and ask about..... GRAD SCHOOL! He even said he would be willing to write me a letter of recommendation. Also, he asked about my husband-to-be. We had been talking once and I had said that Sean was over in Iraq, and it turned out his son had just got home from Falluja.

After posing for a few more pictures with Phuong, Mai, and Lisa B, we had to skidaddle. Sean’s plane was due to land in about an hours time. SJSU is very close to the airport, but the day before my dad and I had been there to pick up my grandma, and it was super busy! Probably because of the upcoming Memorial Holiday weekend. We scored a primo parking place right outside of baggage claim, and walked as far as you can walk nowadays to the terminal. My entire family and I perched on an uncomfortable bench and waited for my San Jose bound Sean.

Finally, after the plane landed, I looked to my left and saw him walking towards me. That’s one of the great things about having such a tall guy– easy to spot! After some kisses and hugs, and don’t forget, pictures, we were off to baggage claim, and eventually a restaurant to feed out hungry tummies.

Due to the varied likes and dislikes of my family, I picked two places to eat: 1. Great American Cheesecake Factory, and 2. Buca di Beppo. Since Sean and I had already been to the Cheesecake Factory (the night we got engaged!), we were leaning more to Buca di Beppo. All the restaurants were packed. I kept seeing people in blue caps and gowns walking around. Sean and I went to the bar and settled in for at least part on the 60 minute wait. I had a lemon drop, Sean had some sort of beer in a very tall glass. After I started to feel the alcohol, we walked around Oakridge Mall a bit.

My poor family waited for what seemed like forever for our table. Then, the hostess called my name and we became the chosen ones, being led to a table. Having never been there before, I did not know that the menu was family style. This means that the portions are either for 3 people or 5 people. We ended up ordering cheese ravioli, spaghetti, and potato gnocchi. The gnocchi was my favourite because it came with mushrooms, artichokes, cheese, and all kinds of other yumminess. We’d also ordered a bread pudding dessert, but our waitress forgot it and we had to get it to go. Keep in mind, we got to the restaurant around 7:45pm, got seated around 9pm, and by 10:45 our dessert still hadn’t come. The food was very, very wonderful, but be prepared that you will face a long wait if you go there without reservations.

Despite her best efforts, my mom had a mild allergic reaction to the garlic bread and had to spend the night. It’s only the second time she’s stayed here since the divorce. She had to take some benedryl and then was too sleepy for the 50 mile drive back home.

I had promised my friends Phuong and Lisa that Sean and I would meet them at a club that night. But we didn’t get home until 11pm. Poor Sean, up since 7am or so, being dragged out to a bar at midnight. He was a good sport though and didn’t complain once.

By about 1:45am, we drove back to my house. We fell into bed and into an easy sleep. Morning came early when my mom knocked on my door at 6:15 to wake us for the big University graduation.

(tbc)

xoxox Tragic Tuyen

Oi! Oi! Oi!

Well, after an undergraduate career that lasted eight years (*blush*) guess what!!

(waits for audience to quiet down)

Tragic is GRADUATING!! Ah, I thought this day would never ever come. There were times, suffering through inorganic chemistry and pathophysiology, that there was no light at the end of the tunnel. I have to admit that, only after changing my major from nursing to history did the oppressive shroud of academic doom miraculously slip from my shoulders.

As I sit here looking at my transcripts, here's the tally:

total university classes taken: 71
total units completed: 194
overall grade point average (including nursing classes): 2.82
history grade point average: 3.2

finally graduating after eight long years: PRICELESS

My family is coming up for the graduation, as is my most wonderful fiance!

I feel like a kid in a candy store!

xoxoxox, Tragic

Why Is This Century Worse...

Why Is This Century Worse
by Anna Andreevna Akhmatova

Why is this century worse than those others?
Maybe, because, in sadness and alarm,
It only touched the blackest of the ulcers,
But couldn't heal in its own span of time.

Else, in the West, the earthly sun endows
The roofs of cities with the morning light,
But, here, the White already marks a house,
And calls for crows, and the crows fly.

(1919)

You'll Live, But I'll Not...

You'll Live, But I'll Not
by Anna Andreevna Akhmatova

You'll live, but I'll not; perhaps,
The final turn is that.
Oh, how strongly grabs us
The secret plot of fate.

They differently shot us:
Each creature has its lot,
Each has its order, robust, --
A wolf is always shot.

In freedom, wolves are grown,
But deal with them is short:
In grass, in ice, in snow, --
A wolf is always shot.

Don't cry, oh, friend my dear,
If, in the hot or cold,
From tracks of wolves, you'll hear
My desperate recall.

(1959)

Motherhood

"Motherhood is a bright torture. I was not worthy of it."
-Anna Andreevna Akhmatova

Dedication

"Dedication" by Anna Andreevna Akhmatova

Mountains bow down to this grief,
Mighty rivers cease to flow,
but the prison gates hold firm.
And behind them are the "prisoners' burrows"
And mortal woe.
For somewone a fresh breeze blows,
For someone the sunset luxuriates--
We wouldn't know, we are those who are everywhere
Hear only the rasp of that hateful key
And the soldiers' heavy tread.
We rose as if for an early service,
trudged through the savaged capital
And met there, more lifeless than the dead;
The sun is lower and the Neva mistier,
But hope keeps singing from afar.
The verdict... And her tears gush forth,
Already she is cut off from the rest,
as if they painfully wrenched life from her heart,
As if they brutally knocked her flat,
But she goes on... Staggering... Alone
Where now are my chance friends
Of those two diabolical years?
What do they imagine in Siberia's storms,
What appears to them dimly in the circle of the moon?
I am sending my farewell greeting to them.

(March 1940)

Requiem

"Requiem" by Anna Adreevna Akhmatova

No, not under the vault of alien skies,
And not under the shelter of alien wings--
I was with my people then,
There, where my people, unfortunately, were.

(1961)

How Old Are You?

Hmm.... Let's see....

I remember when sending a regular letter only needed a 25 cent stamp.

I remember buying my very first album, Cyndi Lauper "She's so Unusual" on vinyl.

The first time I saw Star Wars was on network TV. We recorded it on our VCR.

I remember card catalogues, and writing papers for high school without the internet.

I remember when "Ice, Ice Baby" was at the top of the charts. (I was in the 6th grade, baby!)

Along time ago, Michael Jackson was a music sensation with number one albums. When I was in pre-school, I had a red shirt with a picture of him on it.

I remember watching "Magnum P.I." and "the Smurfs" when I was little.

I remember when the Berlin Wall came down, and everyone proclaiming that the world would definitely be a much safer place when the Soviet Union Fell.

~Tragic

I Believe In A Thing Called Love

I've had a busy last few weeks! Let's see, the last time I blogged, I left off with meeting Sean at the airport.

We spent Thursday and Friday nights in San Diego. Friday morning we ate at International House of Pancakes; I ordered the Eggs Benedict, Sean ordered Huevos Rancheros. (If memory serves...) On Saturday, we intended to drive from San Diego to San Jose. Before we left the motel we partook of the free continental breakfast, where I decided to give guava juice a try. I admit to being dubious about this guava juive business, but it was surprisingly good. It made me feel less guilty for eating a huge donut with sprinkles on it. (He had a croissant.)

That morning, we seemed to get an early enough start, but we kept pulling over. We investigated the (seemingly) brand new mall off of I-5 at Irvine. This gleaming outdoor mall also featured an assortment of fountains, which little kids were already splashing about in, even though it wasn't even noon. At my request, we checked out a pet shop where I saw the most adorable beagle and peek puppies. sigh!

As soon as we hit the city of Angels we hit some decidedly unangelic traffic. We crawled along in bumper to bumper traffic, slowly edging through the San Fernando Valley. When we saw the sign for the Grapevine, traffic teasingly sped up, only to disappoint us, once again, by slowing to an ant's pace. Sean, who was driving at this point, decided we should take this opportunity to exit and take 14, which goes through Palmdale and Lancaster. He had friends we wanted to introduce me to!

After enjoying some ice tea and cookies, we were on our way again. We refueled in Mojave and took 58 through Tehachapi, and eventually reconnected to I-5 again.

What could have been a long, grinding drive was nothing but fun. Sean and I were having a ball-- telling stories, making eachother laugh. We were basking in eachother's presence. I kept glancing down to look at my sparkling diamond engagement ring and smiling the biggest smile I've ever smiled in my entire life!

After one or two more sight-seeing detours, we finally rolled into San Jose. My dad finally met Sean and they really hit it off! There are so many great restaurants where we could have eaten, so much yummy food we could have filled our tummies with. So where did I take my fiance? Go on, ask!

I had to take him to Denny's! (shame!) It was the only place open at that hour. I actually drove to Japantown first, and Hukilau was the only place open, and only open for drinks at that. I drove us by IHOP which was also closed. Denny's was the only choice.

After a much earned night of sleep, we woke up and had breakfast. Sean got to experience the San Jose chill I like to gripe about. While I was getting dressed, Sean and my Dad were out in the "library" talking about different books they had both read. It was pretty cool!

Then we all piled into my dad's stationwagon and made the fifty mile drive down to Hollister, where my mom lives. She had made her famous dish, chicken marsala, along with string beans, and scalloped potatoes (from scratch!). My grandparents were also there.

Sean was a hit with everyone! They all loved him. My grandfather told him the story of the Miraculous Mincemeat Pie, as well as some stories about WWII, Korea, and Vietnam. Everyone took a turn and told a few stories. Sean showed off his DVD that he made, as well as some gruesome footage of something called a camel spider.

My mom hadn't had time to make dessert, so Sean and I drove down to Nob Hill and bought Lemon Meringue Pie, as well as Black Forest Cake! yum!

We had to drive back before dark to San Jose. Sean and I had another drive ahead of us that very night. We drove from San Jose to a suburb of Sacramento. It was better to make the drive Sunday night rather than Monday morning. The 680/580/80 corridor is an absolute quagmire, as any commuter in this area will tell you.

Our hotel was a Best Western in Cameron Park. My fiance was particularly impressed that in each room there was a computer with (gasp!) free internet access! On Monday, I would meet Sean's son Collin for the very first time.

Monday morning came, and so did Collin! We took him to breakfast, then drove to the state capital for some fun. Although we did not see The Governator, we did go to a pretty cool mall, a kickass Asian grocery, and the Sacramento Zoo. We all got along really well and had a great time. The day was ended at Costco, then we drove Collin back home to the 'burbs. I just hope Collin liked me as much as I liked him!

That night, Sean and I made another drive. We stayed southbound on I-99 for hours. Poor Sean had to do all the driving that night because I was coming down with something. The original plan had been to drive straight through from Sacramento to Bakersfield. And we almost made it, too. We ended up spending the night in the small town of Tulare, an ag- town. When we drove by the fair grounds, there was a giant neon sign welcoming the International Agricultural Convention. Our little motel seemed to be very near to some very fragrant cows. Neither one of could have cared less, as we were both bone tired.

Tuesday morning, we were both so fatigued we could barely squeak out of our room by check out time, 11am. We ate at Ana's, a small Mexican cafe right across a dirt road from our motel. I had French Toast, and I think Sean had an omelette of some sort. (I could be wrong about that omelette. Huevos Rancheros? Steak and eggs? hmmm, this is what happens when you don't write things down right away.) Feeling guilty about making him do all the driving, I drove down to San Diego.

As we were coming down the Grapevine, into that other world known as the San Fernando Valley, and idea struck us. We took the 210 East and Sean called my grandma, asking her if she wanted to have lunch. Of course, she said yes, as she loves Sean more than she loves me! We went out to Jack's Salad Bowl on Whittier Blvd.

Unfortunately, we couldn't visit very long because we were determined not to get bogged down in the same traffic that we got stuck in when we had been northbound. Without much delay, we made it to San Diego, and then Chula Vista. Since I had an appointment to get my wedding gown altered on Thursday, not to mention Soviet Studies class, I would be driving back to San Jose the very next day.

But something happened when we were in the movie theatre in Mission Valley. I started to feel not so well. 'Oh no' I thought, 'do I have a fever?' By the time we got back to Sean's siter's house, I 'd curled up nearly in the fetal position.

So much for getting my wedding dress altered. Before Sean went to bed, he went out to his truck and dug around for something to help my pain and fever. Since I didn't want to keep my fiance up that night, I slept on the couch. Or tried to.

That's the thing about being sick in a house not your own. You don't know where anything is-- where are the extra blankets? By the time I was exhausted enough to sleep, I'd resorted to huddling beneath the couch cushions to keep me warm.

It wasn't a good sleep though. It was more of a half sleep. When Sean left for work at the crack of dawn, I was still in that half awake stage.

By mid morning, though, I'd moved back into the bedroom and promptly fell asleep. Until 4pm or so. My honey would call me every now and then, to make sure I was feeling better. I called my dad, who had yet to go back to work full time, and asked if he could cancel my appointment at David's Bridal. As soon as he heard my voice he said more than asked "You're sick, aren't you."

The one good thing about my being sick was that I got to stay on in Chula Vista for four more days. Thursday night we ate at a place called Delish Pizza. Friday night we went to Sycuan Casino and played Bingo. None of us won anything, but it was still a ton of fun! At one point, our group of four, including my future sister in law got separated.

Sean and I still had fun though. Even though we were wondering around aimlessly for awhile, we eventually gave up and decided to have dessert. Can you imagine? Cake and cookies at midnight! We went into a gift shop and I found a lucky horseshoe necklace! I'd been looking for one of those for ages, so Sean bought one for me, as well as a medicine wheel to hang off my rearview mirror. Even the ten minute wait for the keys to the jewelry display case didn't spoil our joyous mood.

As it lightly began to drizzle, we went to the patio and enjoyed hot cocoa (me) and coffee (Sean) at 1am. That's the thing about casinos-- reality and normality are suspended. All kinds of people roaming about, gambling, eating, and what not. Our reunited party finally made it home around 2:30am.

The next day, Saturday, was my last day in town. We saw "Sin City" during the matinee. Afterwards, we drove to Frank's house. Frank is an old friend of Sean's. He seemed super cool, he barbequed us dinner, which included steak, baked potato, and grilled corn (yum!). I also met his little, adorable daughter. Her first words to me were "Your hair is pink!" Afterwards, we played Scrabble.

Sunday morning came, and I was so sad to go home. It seemed like I'd just been reunited with my fiance. It felt like only a few days since he'd been back, rather than ten days. But at least we'd be back together again by Friday morning, when we would meet in Phoenix, Arizona.

(But right now I'm missing you so so much! Your absence physically pains me.) I love you!

~Your Tragedy, Tuyen

He's Back! (pt. 2)

The next day went by so slow. My arm, still recovering from being lasered, started to itch. At the drug store, I was extra careful *not* to buy allergy medicine with benedryl in it, because I didn't want to be sleepy on the big day. Despite my best efforts, I still managed to buy something that knocked me out for about three hours. I woke up around three in the afternoon!

I already had my outfit picked out-- I admit to being a total girly girl in this instance. All I had to do was wait.

And Wait.

And Wait.

I was dressed and ready to go by 8pm. Sean was arriving at Miramar around 10pm. After watching the first hour of the season premiere of "Tru Calling", and trying to eat all the food my future sister-in-law put in front of me, I skipped down the stairs and hopped into my car. I'd been assured that an hour was plenty of time to make it from Chula Vista to Miramar.

So you can imagine my surprise when, not 5 minutes after I left the house, my cell phone rang. But you can't possibly imagine my surprise at who was calling me-- from Miramar, an hour early! I assured Sean that I'd be there as soon as possible, and got on the freeway, 805 North. Traffic was moving great for about 5 minutes.

Then it came to a complete stop! For the next 20 minutes, traffic lurched between a complete stop and the neck-breaking, top speed of 10 miles an hour. Each minute that ticked by felt like an hour.

Dammit!

I'd been looking forward to this day since January, and here I was late, and getting later by the second. Finally the source of the traffic jam became apparent. A car in a south bound lane had smashed over the median and into at least two cars-- altogether there seemed to be about 6 cars involved.

I finally got to the terminal to pick up my fiance about an hour late. (What a screw up!) sigh....

But at least he was back! We hugged and kissed, and it was a million times better than I had imagined it. Sean proposed to me on the spot, in front of his boss and a few of his friends. There's a picture somewhere, of him on one knee sliding a ring on my finger. In addition to a lovely engagement ring, I also got a wonderful lavendar stole from Ireland, a box or Irish chocolates, and a bunch of international postcards for my collection.

Since it was in the middle of Spring Break, and San Diego is a college town, most of the hotel rooms in town were taken. But we could have slept in the back of a stationwagon for all I cared.

~Tragic Is Officially Engaged

He's Back!

Hola! What a busy past few weeks I have had!

On March 29th I drove from San Jose to San Diego, a 7.5 hour drive. I made really great time until I hit Los Angeles. (big surprise!) As soon as I-5 finished its descent into the San Fernando Valley, traffic slowed down. Argh! There was so much traffic I couldn't even make any lane changes in an attempt to take a different freeway, any freeway. I took the opportunity to check out KROQ, a radio station I'd never really listened to before. At least part of the problem seemed to be caused by a broken down big rig in the slow lane, as well as a car sliding off the freeway a few miles south of that. By the time I reached Anaheim, the traffic was moving much faster. I was listening to Gwen Stefani's dance album "Love, Angel, Music, Baby" when I noticed Harbor Blvd. sign on the freeway, and spazzed out like any true No Doubter. ("Remember Harbor Boulevard/ The dreaming days where the mess was made")Unfortunately, traffic once again crept to a standstill by the time I hit 805. I finally got to Chula Vista around 4pm.

That night, I was already under covers when my cell phone rang. My fiance, calling with bad news. Apparently, his flight was delayed and he wouldn't be coming in until Thursday instead of Wednesday. Sigh.

The next day I took my future nieces and nephew to the mall in Mission Valley. We had a pretty good time, hit most of the cool stores, including Hot Topic. My almost- nephew handled the situation well, as most of the stores we went to were girly clothing boutiques.

Wednesday night ticked by ever so slowly. One of the longest nights of my life, waiting for Sean to come home.

(TBC)

~Tragic

Happy Easter

I hope the Easter Beagle was good to you all! My dad and I colored eggs today. This year's dye worked alot better than the stuff I got last year.

Much love to my fiance! I love you, Tragic

Argh!!!!!

Nothing frustrates me like losing a CD. Nothing. So you can imagine how freakin' cranky I am to notice that I've lost 2 of my most precious cds. No Doubt's Beacon Street Collection, and No Doubt's Rock Steady (the deluxe edition.)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Where in hell could they f***ing be? I've looked everywhere!

~ Cranky cranky Tuyen

Countdown

Making Out
No Doubt(G. Stefani, T. Kanal, T. Dumont)
Rock Steady

I'm on the second floor
With a lock on my door
I'm looking at a picture of your face
The last time I looked
You were looking really good
But somehow pictures fade
We're on the phone
We're all alone
And that just ain't good enough
I go around the world
To see your face
'Cause this just ain't good enough

So I'm just kicking it I'm counting the daysI
hardly can wait for us to hang out
I'm really missing it in so many ways
I anticipate us making out

Sip my morning tea
But you're not next to me
Here goes another day
And driving in my car
I wonder how you are
While our favorite music plays
The flowers arrive to my surprise
But that just ain't good enough
And I got the note, it gave me hope
But that just ain't good enough

So I'm just kicking it I'm counting the days
I hardly can wait for us to hang out
I'm really missing it in so many ways
I anticipate us making out

Soon you'll be here with me (making out)
Soon you'll be right here with me

I'm with my friends till the night ends
But that just ain't good enough
And honestly you can trust me
But that just ain't good enough

So I'm just kicking it I'm counting the days
I hardly can wait for us to hang out
I'm really missing it in so many ways
I anticipate us making out

We're getting so close now! Every hour, minute, and second brings us closer together. I'm missing you in so many different ways, but that feeling is being replaced with pure anticipation at seeing you again. Just think, in a few-ish days, we can be eating at Cafe Zucchero, and driving to Hillcrest. And then we'd get lost on the way to the theatre, just like last time. Then we'd have to kill an hour or two by eating sticky rice and mangoes at the Thai place we walked by, since we missed the beginning of the movie.

I've been studying for most of yesterday for the second midterm in African History 105 B. All I really need to do is polish up my essay so I can get a perfect score like last time. What a brat! ;-)

I promise to make a more substantial post by Wednesday or Thursday.

Muchos Besitos, Tragic Tuyen

PS. Your flowers are wonderful and plenty good enough.

More of the same...

Another one of my wonderful dog. He's such a well behaved fluff ball!

Hmm, this one turned out very blurry here. Before I downloaded it, it was fine. Oh yeah, this is supposed to show my arm six days after a treatment.

Another shot of my beautiful, glorious, amazing stargazer lillies from.... (drumroll please).... my fiance. The awesomest man on the planet.

~Tragic

something new, something different

oooh! The beach as seen from the Scripps Aquarium.

ditto!

Beautiful flowers from my fiance, the most wonderful man in the world.

Le Woof! My doggy.

My arm, three days after a laser treatment.

Okay people. I'm trying something new with these pictures, which means it probably won't work.

**crosses fingers** besitos, your tragedy

Scarred For Life

Tomorrow, well, technically later today, I have another laser treatment. Laser treatment, you ask, for what? I’m getting my sleeves removed. By sleeves I mean tattoos from shoulder to wrist on each arm. Yes, it did hurt to getting that extensively tattooed to begin with. I’m just beating some of you to the punch. You wouldn’t believe how often I get asked that. And, yes, it does hurt getting them removed, because everyone always asks me that too. Anyway, I have had about five treatments so far, in approximately one year. Because, in addition to being quite painful, they are also quite expensive.

The first four treatments were with the "little laser." It sounds sort of like a electric razor. Magazine articles and pamphlets like to claim that the patient (me) will only experience discomfort as a laser treatment feels very similar to being snapped by a rubber band. In my experience, the laser treatment feels like someone slowly dragging a hot razor across my skin.

My usual treatment lasts an hour. We break them up into: either lower arm, or half an upper arm. An hour before hand, I apply this topical cream with lidocain in it to numb the skin. When I first started getting these treatments, the laser specialist told me that because of my size, she wasn’t comfortable injecting me with lidocain.. So we decided that for the first treatment, we’d just see how I did. That was the first Friday of my Spring Break, and I spent it at a cosmetic surgery clinic, laying on an uncomfortable table, wearing ill fitting goggles. I don’t remember what we talked about that day, the nurse and I. I just remember thinking, ‘what the hell have I gotten myself into.’ After Alice finished putting ointment on my arm and bandaging me up, I was on my way out the door. Earlier in the week I’d *promised* my mom I’d drive down to Hollister to see her. You know how moms are. A drive that normally would have taken maybe 60 minutes, from Mountain View to Hollister, took much longer. As my right arm throbbed, I drove in mostly bumper to bumper traffic. My mom made me a really delicious dinner, and then had to cut it up for me because my arm was too swollen. On the treatments on my lower arm, I can expect to be swollen from two inches above my elbow all the way down to my fingers. That night, that first night of pain, I remembered laying on my bed with my arm elevated on two couch cushions trying not to cry.

My second treatment was in December on my lower left arm. Being somewhat more prepared for the whole ordeal, and the fact that I’m right handed, made this treatment a little more bearable. But during the healing process that time, after the swelling went down a little, it became intensely itchy. Iin the shower, I’d wash my injured arm. The texture of my arm, once familiar, was no alien, hard to the touch, and hot. For two weeks, the itching kept me awake at night. Despite my best efforts, I’d wake up scratching through my pajamas, raising welts on the still sensitive skin. Almost two weeks later, with a left arm that was still peeling, I had another treatment on my right lower arm. The same things happened. Lots of swelling, and lots and lots of itching. By the time I met my then boyfriend and now fiancé in San Diego Christmas night, the peeling had begun. Sean was such a sweetie, putting benedryl cream on my arm to keep me from tearing it open at night.

On February 21st I was scheduled to have a treatment on my left upper arm. Since it was a holiday, my dad was convinced that I’d made a mistake. That morning I called the clinic to make sure my appointment was still on, but I got some woman at an answering service telling me that my appointment was cancelled. I shrugged and climbed back into bed. So you can imagine my surprise when Alice called me up, fifteen minutes before my appointment to make sure I was still coming. It takes me twenty minutes to get there. I jumped out of bed, applied the numbing cream, pulled on some clothes, and scrambled into the car. Remarkably, I was only 5 minutes late. The only problem, as you can guess, was that the numbing cream had only been on a quarter of the time it’s supposed to be on. Washing my arm off in the sink, I knew I was really in for it. While all of Alice’s other patients use the cream and get a shot, I was going into this treatment hardly numbed at all. This was the first treatment on my upper arm, and about half way into it, Alice decided it might be best to break this session in half. In other words, half a treatment on my left upper arm, and half on my right. The main reason for doing this, she explained, was that she was nervous about how much I might swell. Plus, she’d gotten a new idea.

The laser she’d been using me is called the q-switched ruby laser. It works excellently on lots of colours, except for the blues and greens. The main colours on my upper arm are turquoise and purple. Her new idea was to use the older laser because it could chew through those shades much faster than the smaller ruby laser. The only thing was that she’d have to give me a shot because the bigger laser hurts more.

For the entire four days between appointments, I am completely worked up about having to get a shot. Just ask my fiancé. Did I forget to mention the part where I’m completely scared of needles? My needle fear does not apply to getting tattooed or pierced, only to getting blood drawn and getting injections. I don’t care if it’s ironic, I don’t care what you say. Those things are completely different.

Anyway, when February 26th rolled around, I found myself more nervous then ever before. Mostly thinking ‘holy shit, I have to get a shot’
Alice called my name and back I trudged to the bathroom, where I washed off my arm. As I sat on the table, we made chit chat, wherein I mentioned my needle phobia at least two, possible three times. She decided we could "take it as we go", she could always give me the shot later. She handed me my goggles, a different colour than before. She sat on my right side, and I closed my eyes. The big laser had to warm up before we could start.

**thud**

**thud**

It made a sound like a big shoe in a clothes dryer. I found myself thinking ‘well, that can’t be good.’

**thud**

**thud**

"Are you ready to get started?" I nodded my head ‘yes’ without opening my eyes. While the other laser hits the skin continuously, this one hits much slower. And deeper. Each impact, that’s what it felt like, seemed as though it went from the outside of my skin all the way down to the bone.

**thud**

**thud**

**thud**

When she asked "How ya’ doing?", I told her that I was fine. This time around, none of my tricks seem to be working. In the past during these treatments, I could distract myself by trying to remember song lyrics, passages from my favourite books, dialogue from my favourite movies. One of the songs that I often remember is from Blink 182, "Easy Target."

"All her signals are getting lost in the ether
She's a landslide with a city beneath her
So take a good look
So you'll never forget it
Take a deep breath
I know I'm gonna regret it

Holly's looking dry
Looking for an easy target
Let her slit my throat
Give her ammo if she'll use it
Caution on the road lies lies and hidden danger
Southern California's breeding mommy's little monster

She's got a mission
And I'm collateral damage
She's the flower that you place on my casket
Savour the moment cause the memory's fleeting
Take a photograph as the last train is leaving

Holly's looking dry
Looking for an easy target
Let her slit my throat
Give her ammo if she'll use it
Caution on the road lies lies and hidden danger
Southern California's breeding mommy's little monster

Run, Run, Run, Run, Run
(Hurry Let Me Out)
Run, Run, Run, Run, Run
(Hurry Let Me Out)
Run, Run, Run, Run , Run
(Hurry Let Me Out)"

But that song is sort of short for that kind of situation. Besides, this last time I couldn’t rally concentrate on any lyrics, not even No Doubt songs. I just couldn’t think of them. Not a one. All I could do was make a half hearted attempt at conversation. But I made it. Barely, but I made it. She told me some important things, she told me about the rule of nines, and something called compartmenting, (or something like that) but I wasn’t really paying attention because my arm was hurting. When I sat up, climbed off of the table, she bandaged me up.

That night was really tough. While the little laser left my arm feeling like it had been sunburned, and rubbed raw with gravel, the treatment with the big laser left me feeling like my upper arm had been attacked my a blow torch, and an angry one at that. Even though we only did the outside part of my upper arm, the swelling was awful. It went below my elbow, and also extended up passed my shoulder and to my collar bone. I was so swollen my collar bone wasn’t even visible. My neck was sore too, every time I’d try to turn my head to the right, I’d remember I couldn’t turn my head all the way. Everything felt so tight. Sometimes when my dad makes hot dogs for dinner, he leaves them in the boiling water too long. The hot dogs get really swollen and actually spilt open because the casings are too tight.

This is how I felt.

February 27th was the Oscars, and I barely saw an hour of it. I’d woken up with a terrible migraine (which I get sometimes). That coupled with my swollen, monstrosity of an arm meant that I only left bed to pee. I only slept for maybe twenty minutes, maybe a half hour at a time. The swelling lasted for five days, and I was able to resume my push ups after about two weeks. The headache only lasted for one day, thankfully.

Although I always get a little down after these treatments, after this last one I was depressed. The only ray of sunshine I could think of was Sean. Even though I knew my pain would end sooner or later, I was afraid it wouldn’t. I became afraid that my arm would be swollen, blistered, and bloody for eternity. (I don’t get blisters from the little laser.) I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel. (I know, I know, sorry for the cliche.) I had several dreams that I catch on fire and no amount of water will put it out.

Right now, my upper right arm is still peeling and itchy. One can clearly see where the laser tagged me; I have a bunch of circles about the size of a pencil eraser on the outside part of my upper arm. Each one of these represents a former blister. Before they popped, when I would get cold, I would get goose bumps, these painful goose bumps on my arm. I would get weird shooting sensations in my arm when it would happen, and would feel hot and cold at the same time. It would make me shiver.
Tomorrow shouldn’t be that bed though, we are using the little laser. Here is the song I will try to remember. It’s one of my favourites, I give you, "Crash Into Me" by the Dave Matthews Band.

"You’ve got your ball
You’ve got your chain
Tied to me tight tie me up again
Who’s got their claws
In you my friend
Into your heart I’ll beat again
Sweet like candy too my soul
Sweet you rockAnd sweet you roll
Lost for you I’m so lost for you
You come crash into me
And I come into youI come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream

Touch your lips just so I know
In your eyes, love, it glows so
I’m bare boned and crazy for you
When you come crash
Into me, baby
And I come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream

If I’ve gone overboard
Then I’m begging you
To forgive me, oh
In my haste
When I’’m holding you so girl
Close to me
Oh and you come crash
Into me, baby
And I come into you

Hike up your skirt a little more
And show the world to me
Hike up your skirt a little more
And show your world to me
In a boys dream.. in a boys dream
Oh I watch you there
Through the window
And I stare at you
You wear nothing but you
Wear it so well
Tied up and twisted
The way I’’d like to be
For you, for me, come crash
Into me"

Sal Si Puedes

Here is a story for you all. It’s about how, even though I have been a student for so long, I still mix up really important dates. I am afraid this is going to be the case with my graduation application too.

Last May, in my Chinese History class, we students were supposed to pick a book to review, and then find a corresponding article from an academic journal which reviewed aforementioned book. Now, the last time I wrote a paper for this class. I picked a book that wasn’t on the approved reading list and didn’t realise it until 5 minutes before it was due. I didn’t even bother turning it in because I knew Dr. Reynolds would not accept it. I just turned in the proper paper one day late and took a point deduction.

So this time I was going to do it right. I was going to read the directions. I was going to be careful. I spent hours on this paper and was very proud of it. I even printed it on paper with a pastel sunset like this. So, I think you can imagine my absolute HORROR when I realised I had screwed up again. In the exact same way.

My plan was to talk to Dr. Reynolds after class– confess my stupidity. But I couldn’t quite muster up the courage. After my second class I meet up with Phuong and we chit chat about our day so far. Dr. Pickering passed by and Phuong asked her a question, so before she left I decided I’d ask her about my dilemma. Dr. Pickering said I should definitely talk to Dr. Reynolds sooner rather than later– she even let me used her office phone to do so. I left a message with Dr. Reynolds and said I would stop by during office hours.

So at 3pm, I knocked on his door. My hands were sweaty and I was scared of getting called an idiot. I imagined that the best case scenario was that he would let me rewrite my paper- but since it would be two days late he would deduct 2 grades.

But when I told him my error, he asked me what book I reviewed. And when I told him, he said– "Oh, that’s fine." What? Fine? Oh thank god!! I thanked him and practically skipped back to my car. (Sigh.) Sometimes people surprise you!

Wish me luck! Dammit I've got to graduate!

For my wonderful fiance, the giver of flowers, I hope you are safe and sound. We're really getting close now. I just crossed another day off my calendar.

besitos, Tragic

Yummies From Tibet

Tibetan Tara (Sweet Yogurt Shake)

4 cups plain yogurt
10 ice cubes
1/2 cup brown sugar
Preparation:
Blend the ingredients together in a blender until smooth.

I've been looking over my old recipes lately and I happened upon this one. If memory serves, I found it in a beat up book at the library. Anyway, I know it doesn't seem like it would be, but it's actually quite yummy. (Probably not health food either, but that's why it tastes so yummy.) The only change I made is less ice cubes, and that's because my da's old blender (it was a bridal gift before my parents wedding) is quite old and doesn't really like the hard things to grind up.

Take A Chance!! Give it a whirl!

Besitos, Tragic Tuyen

PS. HMS= SMH
We're getting married, amor! J'taime!

Why???

Why...... is the room........


***spinning***???

~Tragic Tuyen

Frontline

On Tuesday night, Frontline (PBS) aired a program called "A Soldier's Heart," which dealt primarily with PTSD. Check out the website at:

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/shows/heart/

Several different soldiers were interviewed for this program, including friends, families, and mental health professionals. The main point of the program seemed to be that while there is more discussion about PTSD, there is still a stigma attached to "asking for help", etc. In other words, is the military handling the problem (PTSD, battle fatigue, etc.) differently or better than in the past, or not?

~Tragic

Deep Water

Last night I had another nightmare. It was very short, but this is what I remember.

I'd been invited to a party and was meeting my friends there. No one told me it was a pool party, I was dressed for clubbing. I was wearing my big black goth boots, a tank top, and my black pinstriped pants, the ones with the zippers. After I parked my car, I went in the house and asked some girl I'd never seen before where Phuong and Lisa were.

"Oh," she said "There right through there," indicating a doorway. So I opened the door, took a step, and fell. I fell for what seemed a really long time beofre I fell into the deep end of a pool.

A really, really deep pool. It seemed like I was twenty feet below the water's surface. I was close to the edge, and I was trying to grab ahold of the ladder to make my way up. Only, instead of being a metal ladder, it was made of rope. I had to climb the rope to make my way up.

In my dream, I remember cursing my big heavy boots and thinking that my taste in shoes would kill me. I was running out of air.....

And then I woke up. Ouch, with a bloody nose.

Muchos besitos por mi amor, Tragic

Say Anything

In Your Eyes
-Peter Gabriel
So

love I get so lost, sometimes
days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
when I want to run away
I drive off in my car
I come back to the place you are

all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
ohhh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat I see in your eyes

love, I don’t like to see so much pain
so much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away
I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

and all my instincts, they return
and the grand facade, so soon will burn
without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside

in your eyes
the light the heat
in your eyes
I am complete
in your eyes
I see the doorway to a thousand churches
in your eyes
the resolution of all the fruitless searches
in your eyes
I see the light and the heat
in your eyes
ohhh, I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
the heat
in your eyes, in your eyes
in your eyes, in your eyes
in your eyes, in your eyes

Do you know the movie I’m talking about? I saw the movie "Say Anything" last summer. As a single girl, I yearned to have a boyfriend like Lloyd. A guy who would stand outside my bedroom window and play "In Your Eyes" on a boom box just to win me back, rather than bang on my window late at night and curse at me. The night I watched that movie, I climbed into bed and cried, because I knew that I would never find an awesome guy like that for myself. I even recall planning on doing a post for my blog about it, but for some reason, never did.

But then something miraculous happened. I did find my Lloyd Dobbler. We found one another!! I wasn’t even looking for him because I’d given up. I’d even made a deal with my friend Phuong that if we never got married to anyone, we’d buy a house together, fill it with dogs and cats, and grow old as spinsters.

How did I get so lucky? How did I go from the unluckiest girl, a girl born to lose, to the luckiest girl in the world?

I miss him so much, and hope that he is safe. But soon we will be together forever. We’re getting married!!

Besos, Tragic

Here is an article about us Bloggers!

Posted on Tue, Feb. 22, 2005 from the San Jose Mercury News

R E L A T E D L I N K S
• Finding novelty, sharing it online
• Political blog becomes paying job
• An Internet gallery of city images

Bloggers' Internet obsession

By K. Oanh HaMercury News

Amy Sherman recently woke up at 4 a.m. in a panic. Why wasn't her food blog getting as much traffic as others?
``I daydream about the blog throughout the day. . . . I worry about it at night. I sometimes put as much energy into it as my job,'' said Sherman, 40, a self-employed marketing consultant in San Francisco who makes no money from her blog, Cooking With Amy (www.cookingwithamy.com).

Sherman and many others who publish the online journals known as Weblogs, or ``blogs'' for short, have discovered the addictive nature of blogging. What starts out as a hobby for some can end up permeating their lives and minds. Some of the diarists post repeatedly throughout the day, juggle several blogs and feel anxious if they don't write. Most dedicated bloggers say the endeavor has enriched their lives, but some worry about finding balance and keeping their obsession in check.
``There is a narcotic quality to it,'' said Anil Dash, a prominent 29-year-old San Francisco technology blogger (www.anildash.com). ``The more you post, the more readers you get. It's easy for people to get sucked into it.''

Mental notes

San Jose blogger Rachel Pottol, who writes about life with toddlers, constantly composes blog posts in her head for her site (www.livejournal.com/users/cerulean_me). As she goes through her day, the 26-year-old makes mental notes of good fodder: her daughter being entranced by the ``Happy Birthday'' song, her arguments with her husband, her work as a mother's helper. She set up Internet access on her cell phone just so she can check e-mail hourly for reader comments. ``It's a way for me to connect with other moms,'' she said. ``I feel like it's my job to keep these people entertained.''

Blogs have become a fixture on the Internet landscape, with 14 new ones created every minute, according to Technorati, which tracks nearly 7 million blogs. ``Blog'' was the most looked-up word at Merriam-Webster's dictionary Web site last year.
Many blogs are a chronicle of experiences and feelings. Others focus on a topic -- sports, food, hobbies, politics, pets.

For most people, blogs are a healthy means of self-expression and validation, said Boston psychologist John Grohol, who studies online behavior. Most digital diarists find gratification in connecting with readers. Some feel the need to apologize to readers if they have not updated enough.

But blogging can become so all-consuming that it overshadows reality. ``They spend enormous amounts of time blogging rather than living,'' Grohol said.
The blogosphere was abuzz in January after Justin Hall, a Los Angeles Internet junkie, posted a video of himself having a self-described ``breakdown.'' In a wrenching 10-minute video, Hall, who has kept an online journal for 11 years, cries and agonizes whether he has lived too much of his life virtually.

The episode arose because the woman he loves didn't want him to blog about their relationship -- and he believed he had to choose between her and his ``art.''
``I think the Web makes me not alone,'' said Hall, 30, in his video entry (www.links.net). ``I feed it my intimacies, and the Web is my constant connection to something larger than myself.''
He's now reassessing the balance in his life and has stopped blogging for the moment. ``I was living too much in the electronic world,'' he said in an interview. ``I could sit on the computer all day, but it's not the same as being with a girl and smelling her hair.''

Addicted to blogging?

Among bloggers, addiction is a running joke. One even offered a checklist: ``You are addicted to blogging if you answer `yes' to at least 3 of the following questions,'' Joi Ito, a Japanese venture capitalist with Silicon Valley ties, wrote on his blog (joi.ito.com). ``Do you think about everything in terms of whether it will make a good blog entry? Do you keep your computer in standby mode beside your bed and wake up at 2 a.m. to blog? Do you skip lunch and blog instead?''

Dave Pell, a San Francisco angel investor, fits the bill. He juggles three blogs -- one about technology (www.davenetics.com), another about politics (www.electablog.com) and a third about, well, blogs (www.theblogblog.com).
Addiction, he said, is the only explanation for why he started the latest, the Blog Blog, and posts more than a dozen times a day. ``It's involuntary for me at this point. It's a part of who I am.''
Pell, 38, said he attends events he might otherwise pass up -- so he can blog about them.

``It's about ego, in a way,'' said Pell, whose blogs draw 250,000 page views a month. ``A few thousand people might read your take on something. It's pretty empowering.''

For some, keeping a blog subtly colors every aspect of life. Renee Blodgett carries a digital camera wherever she goes to capture images for Down the Avenue (www.downtheavenue.com), which mixes notes on San Francisco, technology and poetry. She walked into a cafe recently and caught herself paying attention to the colors, sounds and people. ``I was thinking how I could turn it into a post,'' said Blodgett, who is in her mid-30s. ``Before, I'd just sit down, have my bowl of soup and zone out.''
Yet Blodgett worries whether the blog will make her less social. ``Will I become more engaged with my laptop, more engaged with my blog than I am with people?'' she said.

For Sherman, her blogging obsession is tied into sharing her food passion with others. When she went on a three-week Mexican vacation in December, she planned her family's itinerary around getting to an Internet cafe.
``When I'm on vacation, I fear I'll lose visitors or people will forget about me,'' Sherman said. ``I feel a sense of responsibility. I have a readership, a public, people who care if I stop writing. That drives me.''

Contact K. Oanh Ha at kha@ mercurynews.com or (408) 278-3457.

What do you all think of that?? I don't really have a "readership" and therefore no real sense of responsibility towards a public.

~besos, Tragic

Blink- 182... Bad News

Here it is, from the band themselves (http://www.blink182.com):

"For over a decade, Blink-182 has toured, recorded and done non-stop promotion all while trying to balance relationships with family and friends.To that end, the band has decided to go on an indefinite hiatus to spend some time enjoying the fruits of their labors with their loved ones. While there is no set plan for the band to begin working together again, no one knows what tomorrow may bring."

Also, from E! Online:



Blink-182 Goes on "Hiatus"by Joal Ryan Feb 22, 2005, 2:35 PM PT

"Blink-182 is going on the blink.

In an announcement from its record label that stopped short of saying the punk-pop trio had disbanded, the group was described as being "on indefinite hiatus." Television viewers may recognize "hiatus" as an old network term meaning "when your favorite show gets canceled, but nobody has the heart to tell you to your face."

Befitting Blink-182's newly murky status, Geffen Records said there was no timetable for the band to start being a band again. "No one knows what tomorrow may bring," the label said in a statement. Rumors of Blink-182's demise were sparked when the group was a last-minute scratch, along with Ozzy Osbourne, at a tsunami-relief benefit concert Friday in Anaheim, California. Osbourne's absence was explained as being prompted by a "family emergency"; Blink-182's was chalked up to "unforeseen circumstances."

A rep for Geffen confirmed that the "unforeseen circumstances" was the band's unraveling. There weren't details as to what went down, only that after rehearsals the word hiatus began being bandied about. The official story is that guitarist/singer Tom DeLonge, 29, bassist Mark Hoppus, 32, and drummer Travis Barker, 29, want to spend time "enjoying the fruits of their labors with loved ones." "For over a decade, Blink-182 has toured, recorded and promoted non-stop all while trying to balance relationships with family and friends," Geffen Records said.

Founded in San Diego in the early 1990s as Blink with original drummer Scott Raynor, the retitled band made its major label debut in 1999 with Enema of the State. The album was the unofficial soundtrack of skate parks everywhere, spawning the sometimes-jokey, always-catchy hit singles "All the Small Things," "Adam's Song" and "What's My Age Again."

Two more studio albums have followed for the tattooed trio: 2001's Take Off Your Pants and Jacket, and 2003's self-titled release. Last summer, the band headlined a tour with fellow Southern California rockers No Doubt. Barker, who joined the band in 1998, already has a side project set. He'll debut in April in the new MTV reality series Meet the Barkers, about him, his beauty queen wife and their children.

If the show does well, don't expect the word hiatus to come up anytime soon."

~Tragic