Friday, May 31, 2013

Confessions, Pt. 1

I loath Wal-Mart and everything that it stands for. This isn't the confession part. I've been open about this for longer than I can remember. I always do everything in my power to stay out of that establishment.

During my freshman year of college, I developed a really good habit of running usually between 9 and 10 PM. The ritual included coming home, taking a luke warm shower and then eating four or five spoonfuls of Haagen Dazs mango sorbet. This is still perhaps my only expensive, snooty luxury I indulge myself in. I can't even begin to tell you what that did to me. It felt like I was getting an extra hour of sleep every night because of how refreshed I felt after that routine.

I haven't been able to find Haagen Dazs mango sorbet since being home from my mission. I bought a generic brand they sell at Smith's and it didn't even come close to doing the trick. If anything it did the reverse. It just felt like canceling out the exercise I did because it was so heavy.

So...last night I found out that on Haagen Dazs website you can locate flavors in stores by zip code. Any guesses as to the only place that sells mango sorbet within 20 miles of me is? Yep. I ended up in Wal-Mart in sweats, flip-flops, and wet hair a little after 11 last night. Please don't put me on People of Wal-Mart.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

“It's strange because sometimes, I read a book, and I think I am the people in the book.”

Every time I feel affected by something I come running to my blog and think "I have so many feels! Share the feels!" but when I come to write it I can never quite express it in a way that feels appropriate or interesting or relevant or exciting. I feel like I'm just trying to tell a bunch of dogs how great kitty liter is. You just can't understand it. I can't make anyone feel what I felt. So I suppose this is just for me to come back to and enjoy every now and then.

I'm out of school and have rediscovered my love for reading fiction. I really wish I could keep doing it during school, but there just isn't time (more like initiative) to do it. Just like every summer of my primary education, I'm blazing through books.

I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower and just loved it. I've certainly chuckled at finding scenarios comparable to my life in books from time to time. There have been times when certain expressions and characteristics remind me of myself or someone I know. This story felt like it was taken from my mind. It was like I knew exactly how everything was going to play out, not because it was formulaic, but because I had experienced it. Not necessarily the circumstances, but the ideals, emotions, aspirations, and desires of the main character.

The novel is written in the protagonist, Charlie's voice and it only took about 20 pages for Charlie's voice and my voice to merge in my mind. I had never experienced this before. Charlie was me, I was Charlie. This happened in my brain long before I found the quotation in the title of this post which by the way was one of the coolest aha moments I've ever had.

I related to this character on so many levels it was like climbing a skyscraper. I've always preferred observing to "participating." I've always been content so long as everyone else is happy. I don't know how else to express this, you should just read the book.

Like so many other coming-of-age/young adult novels, this one had lots of heavy content in it. Lots. I've read books that grossed me out and offended me before. I think written language can be so much more foul than visual because it doesn't have to be physically created. This book, however, never offended me. If anything it  just reinforced principles and standards that I have set for myself in stone, but then on top of that, taught me how to love and accept everyone. 

It made me want to be so much more than I am. It's made me look inward, but at the same time made me feel this sense of urgency to step outward.

I saw the movie tonight as well, same day I finished the book. It's fantastic. You should see it, but read the book first if you can. It's the best novel to film adaptation in my memory. It does help that the author wrote the screenplay AND directed it. I mean, the screenplay is one thing, but he directed it! How cool is that? The performances were stellar all around. Charlie's purity, charity, and innocence translated perfectly to the screen.

And, you guys, can we just appreciate Emma Watson for a second? Emma Watson, guys and gentlemen:

Her accent didn't bother me one bit. Not. At. All. I can't picture anyone else as Sam.

Anyway. Yeah, this book has tons of literary merit and stuff. Yeah. 

I just hope someone else will find this and hopefully pick up the book and have something remotely close to what I experienced. That would make me happy.

I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people. You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love. You just can't. You have to do things. I'm going to do what I want to do. I'm going to be who I really am. And I'm going to figure out what that is. And we could all sit around and wonder and feel bad about each other and blame a lot of people for what they did or didn't do or what they didn't know. I don't know. I guess there could always be someone to blame. It's just different. Maybe it's good to put things in perspective, but sometimes, I think that the only perspective is to really be there. Because it's okay to feel things. I was really there. And that was enough to make me feel infinite. I feel infinite.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

#fail ...(s) in communication as of late

Total stranger (tank top clad Provo All-Star) in the stairwell: "Hey, wassup?"
Me: "See ya."

How I greet customers at my job: "How can I help you?"
Their response half the time: "Good, how are you?"

Female: "What was the last cologne you bought?"
Me: "None."
Female: "What are you wearing now."
Me: "Absolutely nothing."

Classmate: "Oh my gosh, your zipper (on my backpack) is HUGE! Can I touch it?"
Me: "Uhhh"

(At Rancherito's Drive-thru) Me: "Can I have a fish burrito."
Employee: "We don't make breakfast enchiladas"
(At the same establishment a month later) Me: "Can I have a fish burrito?"
Employee: "No."

How I typically send off customers: "You're good to go."
My translation: "All you need to do now is show up. Everything else is taken care of; you have nothing to worry about. Thank you for your patronage."
(Recently brought to my attention) The way that it's interpreted: "Leave."

Friend: "I've been sick so much lately I think I might die young."
Me: " they're close to the MTC right?"

Me: "Yeah, let's get some Sigur Ros all up in here!"
Them: "Isn't that against the honor code?"

(In reference to customers that are just a little too friendly) Myself: "And then they just raise their eyebrows and grin from ear to ear when they're through with me."

What I heard: "Are you asking a girl on a date?"
What he really said: "I'm asking a girl on a date."
My answer: "No."

Dad (to my mom): "Let's go see Wreck it Ralph."
Mom: "I'm not paying a money to see anything with the pointy ears or blue skin."

Coworker: "Can I just say that this (insert subject) homework is beyond sense."

Me, when anyone suggests any kind of surprise of any kind :

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Just So Everyone Knows

I am half-Japanese. My mother was born in Japan and lived there until she was 19 and came to the U.S. to study. My father was born and raised in the U.S.

Japan is not Korea
Japan is not China
Japan is not Thailand
Japan is not Philippines
Japan is not Vietnam
Japan is not Taiwan
Japan is not Cambodia
Japan is not Myanmar
Japan is not Laos
Japan is not Singapore
Japan is not Malaysia
Japan  ≠ Asia

Japan is the only nation in Asia that I've visited. Please don't ask me about "Asian culture" or "Asian food" or "if they do this in Asia" because I've only been to one tiny nation in the ginormous blasted continent.

Don't raise your eyebrows at me once somebody starts saying that they don't like Chinese food. It's not awkward until you do it. Don't say "no offense" and then laugh when you say you don't like a certain Chinese dish. I wouldn't tell an Italian that I don't like escargot, no offense.

DO NOT ask me what the lyrics to any of Psy's songs mean. Don't do it, because I have no idea. It's just as foreign to me as it is to you.

Don't use racial slurs towards anyone. It's not nice.

My last name originated in Scotland. If you know someone of Asian ethnicity with my last name that's not one of my brother's I'm 99% sure we're not related.

Don't be afraid to ask me about my ethnic background and where it originates. I'd much rather you ask than assume. Don't be afraid to talk about it, I love talking about it. Sometimes people think they're being offensive when they acknowledge that I'm not entirely Caucasian. And then when I comment on it myself it's like I've just pulled the curtain on the Wizard of Oz. Guys, I looked in the mirror this morning, I know.

My ethnicity is a part of who I am, but isn't all that I am. It makes perfect sense to describe me as "Asian" when you're trying to identify me (especially in this overwhelming Caucasian majority I live in)  by physical appearance, but when it's anything other than that, it's unnecessary and ignorant. If there's one phrase that gets me (probably more so than the slurs, to be honest) it's "you're so Asian." What on earth (yes, those of you with telepathy, my brain said a swear instead of earth) is that supposed to mean? If I'm embodying the personality of an entire continent, I am one heck of a human being.

Why do I make all of these requests? Well, because:

Of course this is all your choice. I'm not overly sensitive or easily offended or trying to look like a victim, really. I'm just looking out for you. I'm just hoping you and your ignorant self don't get in trouble and offend someone else when it really counts.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

December 14, 2012

Look what I found in my drafts. Well, we're on our way up. Still got some progress to make though. This is why writing is good; personal reflection.

I'm still not used to this.

I'll admit it. I just don't get it yet.
I guess going on a three week vacation a week after coming home and not getting a cell-phone for about a month after that contributed, but I still don't know what to do with my time.

No matter how many times I rearrange my class schedule for school next semester, I have knots in my stomach over it and I feel like I'm doing it wrong. I've seeked out advice here and there, but mostly I'm too lazy/too scared of my awkward self to do it. Is that embarrassing? Yeah. Is it reality? Sadly, yes.

I have this huge longing to be around old high school, college, and mission friends...but limited means to do so and an even weaker drive to do so. I think these are the horror stories you hear about coming home. And I remember being so adamant about not being "that guy" "that returned-missionary" but here we are.
 Ok, that's silly. I'm in control of my life; I can help it. I'm just...not. I hope school keeps me busy enough to have drive and purpose to do something with my life, heck, my time for that matter. I can't remember the last time I had this much free-time and I'm really ready to be done with it.
HECK. Even looking back, I was much much better at this blogging junk back when I was in class, rehearsal, or performance from 8AM to 11PM pretty much everyday in college. 
I'd give myself a failing grade for this little chapter of my life, but it's only up from here, right? 
And on that note I think I'll go play Dance Central until I go to Disneyland next week. Battle me suckas! Oh wait... 
These are the kind of posts I see on other blogs and want to punch a cow over.

I think this will just sit in my drafts. Maybe I'll have the courage to post it tomorrow.