If you hold onto these long enough, they eventually are true:
Oh yeah, and what she says.
Shared with me by a fellow reader. Thought I'd pass along:
"Books come into the world and change the lives of their authors for good or ill and sometimes change the lives of their readers too. This change in the reader is a rare event. Mostly we read books and set them aside, or hurl them from us with great force, and pass on. Yet sometimes there is a small residue that has an effect. The reason for this is the always unexpected and unpredictable intervention of that rare and sneaky phenomenon, love. One may read and like or admire or respect a book and yet remain entirely unchanged by its contents, but love gets under one's guard and shakes things up, for such is its sneaky nature. When a reader falls in love with a book it leaves its essence inside him, like radioactive fallout in an arable field, and after that there are certain crops that will no longer grow in him, while other, stranger, more fantastic growths may occasionally be produced. We love relatively few books in our lives and those books become parts of the way we see our lives, we read our lives through them, and their descriptions of the inner and outer worlds become mixed up with ours, they become ours."
I've been blessed with a relatively calm complexion (thanks Mom and Dad!), but when I get pimples, they come after me with a vengeance. We are all familiar with the cheek pimple that hurts like a muther, the nose pimple that you just want to lance, and the random body pimple in places where you just.can't.quite.reach.
Today I am sporting the ever popular Third Eye. How is it possible that a pimple knows the exact median point between my eyebrows? Cabo is in two days and if it's not gone by then I'm seriously considering wearing a bindi. Heck, I'm more Indian than Gwen Stefani.
Wow this post is so sexy. You know what else is hot? Belly button lint. Isn't that right, Mon?
I always wanted to have a book of memories that listed all my memorable experiences, ranging from life-altering to random, mundane doings. I would save this book and pass it onto my grandchildren so that I won't have to sit there talking to them. But now that I have this blog, I will give them this URL instead and say, "Ok kids, you can bore yourselves. Hami has to get ready to go to the NSync reunion concert. Laters bitches." Ha, just kidding... I doubt NSync will get back together in my lifetime.
So here we go:
Back when I was a kid my family was piss poor. I'm not trying to get any sympathy and as a kid I thought things were just ok, but now that I look back, yeah we were poor. Up until about I was 12 we lived in a variety of one bedroom basement deals. I shared a room with my parents until I was about 7 and then my bed was moved to the livingroom. Then my cousins from Korea came to the US and they moved in with us too for about a year (so that's about 7 people in a 1BD/1BR sublet).
I don't want you to think I lived in the projects or anything like that. It was (still is) a relatively ok neighborhood in the Sunset district of SF (46th and Quintara to be exact) close to the park and really close to the beach. The actual house we lived in was pretty big. We lived in half the main upstairs area for a couple of years, but later moved downstairs to the rooms in the garage.
Then around 1989 the big SF quake hit. I remember I was in the kitchen eating lamyun ("ramen" with the correct Korean pronounciation) and everything started shaking. My other cousin (6yrs old, who didn't live with us) was in the bathroom taking a shower. The reason I mention the shower bit was that when the earthquake came all the electricity went out so the kid was stuck in a windowless bathroom with the water running, the lights out, door locked, nekkid as the day he was born, and screaming his head off. Man, that's funny shit right there. (note to self: make fun of him next Christmas)
After it was over we all went outside where we met another family. I hadn't seen them before because they lived in a van and they had parked in front of our place sometime in the last week. This wasn't some random vagrant. It was a whole family of four with a daughter and a son. My dad had a conversation with the other dad... he truly tried even with his broken english... and we eventually all had dinner together outside on the sidewalk. I know as a kid I didn't think it was a big deal, but now that I look back, that was pretty cool. They were gone by the next day.
Kobe Bryant threw Vanessa a "Surprise Recommitment Ceremony" this weekend.
The bill? $50,000
The guestlist? Kobe and Vanessa
Bling included a custom build platform made to recreate their favorite restaurant (owned by Ashton Kutcher), a chandelier, Vera Wang china, and custom dessert from Vanessa's favorite dessert place, all in a park in Laguna Beach. And to orchestrate the whole thing Kobe had a remote control to control the music, lighting, and call the caterers.
That is one sorry man.
And by "sorry" I mean "sorry excuse for a man!" Zing!
Also, this article says they served chicken and asparagas for dinner. CHICKEN AND ASPARAGUS. WTF, he drops 50 grand and he serves something you can get from Lean Cuisine?
You know what would have been absolutely fitting?
$120 a pound, yo.
Inspired by an at-work-covert-chat-session
You may have heard about the UrbanDictionary. Pretty cool resource. How else would I find out about such jewels as slow your roll?
ie."Slow your roll homie, I'm tryin' to relax up in this mutha."
(I am so going to work that sentence when the opportunity presents itself.)
I also love that they finally found a word that rhymes with orange (as distasteful as it is).
And then there's just freaking funny entries.
I can see myself actually saying this because I am annoying like that.
Language is a fluid, subjective, dynamic creature, which may be why I love words and find it interesting to see how they're used. Definitions are not fact but a matter of perspective. (My ideal job doesn't sound so bad now)
I humbly submit for review:
- A condition in which the patient proclaims a zest for life, packs their schedule with activities, and scoffs at all forms of romance, but all the while are secretly afraid that they have a chronic syndrome, so they drown their sorrows in knitting and vodka tonics.
- A person who has fallen victim to the state of coupledom. They are most easily recognized by a growth resembling another person that accompanies them in almost all social activities. Despite declarations of contentment, they secretly envy the capricious lifestyle of the Onesie just a little bit.
- Every guy's fantasy... or nightmare, depending on the ratio.
Pros of all day meetings:
Cons of all day meetings:
Inspired by this dude, I made my own Life Poster. If you have iPhoto and Photoshop, super easy to do. You have to find 98 pictures to make it and I had to struggle to find the last 3 or 4. This is out of a collection of 1300+ pictures! Which means I better take more in the future.
I had a lot of fun picking out my pictures, which represent my favorite memories since I got my camera and just random ones that I thought came out well. They each have a story behind them.
Next time you come to my pad come check it out because you're probably in it somewhere. If not, I acknowledge that I am a horrible person and you will definately make an appearance in the next one.
A couple of weeks ago my coworker received an interesting forward. It's a little excel sheet and if you type in your name, it tells you what your ideal job is. The results ranged from software engineer to farmer to exotic dancer.
My ideal job? Satan.
Yeah you know, Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, Evil Incarnate, etc.,etc...
I know I haven't been to church in a while but day-am, that's harsh. My dad once told me my name meant "skin like a peach" but apparently it really means "destroyer of man". I knew I should have changed my name when I got my citizenship.
Here is the file if you're interested in having like 2 minutes of fun. Go ahead and put my name in and you will see I'm not a liar. I guess I need to work on that job skill.