Entries for October, 2003

I'm finding it harder and harder to update every couple days. It isn't that I'm abandoning my poor little Tabbi, but it's more of the fact that I'm finding fewer things to complain about. That entry about trying to have more of an open mind? It wasn't just a "moment." I've actually been trying to overlook people's faults.

But I've GOT to get one thing out of my system. My friend and I were walking up the stairs, when we overheard two white guys holding a quite interesting conversation.

White guy #1: Dude, how are your, like, classes, man?
White guy #2: Pretty chill, dude.
White guy #1: You're in Math Analysis, right, man?
White guy #2: Yeah, man. I can't believe I passed Algebra 2, man.
White guy #1: What are you, like, getting in Math Analysis, dude?
White guy #2: Man, I have a fuckin F!! YEAH!!
White guy #1: [getting all happy and slapping the guy high-five] DUDE!!! NICE!!!

Yay. A trophy shaped like a donkey for you. You're an ass. Don't wet your pants from excitement just yet, genius. Just be happy that you're failing pre-calculus. Be happy that you're getting nowhere with your life. In fact, why don't you take AP Human Relations? Then you can ask "Need help out with that?" with class and etiquette. Or how about Honors Language? You can ask "Would you like the combo?" in different French and Spanish. Unless you fail those classes too. Then maybe your parents will buy you a Corvette on your birthday.

Instead of being happy with the big red FAIL on your transcript, why don't you go home and try to catch flies with your mouth or something? I really doubt Burger King requires a high school diploma for their highly-educated employees.

All right. I'll stop. I'd rant some more, but I've resolved to keep an open mind about things like this. If you want to be stupid, then that's your perogative.

Congratulations. You're a moron.

Written by jihwan at 11:10 PM.

3 x 0 = 0

Not for me. Not yet.

I can't handle it, can't deal with it, can't live up to it. Congratulations to those who have found love at such a young age. Best of wishes to you.

But I'm not going to walk around handing out flyers for dates. I'm not going to be tied down to expectations and obligations that I can't meet, and I don't want to burden anyone else with them, either.

I just don't see the point of having a romantic relationship. I'm 16, in my Junior year of high school. I've got priorities, and I probably wouldn't be able to make a girl one of them. I'm sorry.

It's too bad, since I have so many things I want to do, so many places to go, so many things to talk about. I'd love to feed you cookies and laugh at corny jokes. It would be wonderful to cuddle up and breathe in the smell of your strawberry shampoo. I would love to surprise you after school one day with criss-cut fries and green apple boba.

But I'm a practical person. As much as I would love to indulge myself and you with the lightly-held concept of Love, I'm not ready. I haven't been ready. Whether it's for better or for worse, I'm waiting. Will you?

Written by jihwan at 12:09 AM.

9 x 0 = 0

It's very frustrating trying to teach your dad how to use Microsoft Powerpoint. You tell him one thing, and he forgets it as soon as you introduce another topic. He constantly mixes up the left and right mouse buttons, and is oblivious to the concept of "clicking and dragging."

"All right, appa. Now, for the umpteenth time, open up and new document and create a new slide.. NO, not My Computer, Powerpoint.. No, left click it, that only brings up the properties.. it's called double-clicking. Here, let me show you again.."
***
"OK, we got the slides. Now, how do we go to the presentation options? No.. not that, the other one.. No.. NO!! What do you mean what happened? You just closed the application!! No, we can't get it back!!"
***
"Now, we re-entered all the information, and we're ready for the slideshow. Got it? All you have to do is click the left mouse button every time you want the next slide. Easy? And just save the document and we're set for tomorrow, k? ..Nooo.. you just overwrote.. the hymn file.." [buries head in hands]

I give up.

Written by jihwan at 11:13 PM.

4 x 0 = 0

During my AP English class, we were continuing our presentations of persuasive speeches. A guy went up to the podium and very haughtily condemned the SUVs of America. "They create too much pollution, and if you drive one, you're stupid, and since I'm the expert at fuel-efficient cars, I'll just go completely off subject and babble on about terrorism and nonexisting oil rigs in Pakistan."

Whoops, spilled your grey poupon on your robe of pompousness there, jerk. I swear, I felt like running out and buying myself a Ford Excursion just to spite him [7 miles to the gallon, woo!!]. I'd attatch a blade to the front and mow down the rain forests while I'm at it, too. [Rebuttal my "Cut down the rain forests" speech, will ya?!] Maybe I could tie those feminists to the back and drag them along for the ride. Hey, I'm on a roll, why not go and demolish all the rice rockets out there? I could go purge everything that annoys me.

And if that wouldn't be enough, I'd write some more controversial speeches just to see the venomous looks on their faces. And if they don't like it, I'll just implement my friend Sark's idea: torture.

Spite. It's such a wonderful thing.

Written by jihwan at 11:50 PM.

1 x 0 = 0

I was thinking about Spiderman today. You know how it is. When you're bored, your mind starts wandering to the most obscure and nooks and crannies of your dust-covered brain. Anyway, I compared the anatomy of spiders to the anatomical structure of Spiderman.

Conclusion: Spiderman should shoot his web out from his butt. He could go swinging around the city with his rear sticking up, and he could couple the web with his deadly gas, making his weapon doubly potent.

And to demonstrate just how far my mind got on this subject, let me tell you about my ingenious idea.

If Spiderman ever needed to take a dump, he could first web himself a little net from his butt, squat, and do his thing. Then when he's finished, he could just detach it from his ass and throw it into the nearest dumpster. It'd be like a little pooper-baggy.

Written by jihwan at 07:57 PM.

5 x 0 = 0

This is my favorite work of literature. EVER. Poe isn't necessarily my favorite author, because his prose sucks major aardvark popsicles, but I adore this poem of his. I just sit there, reading aloud [mostly to myself; nobody wants to listen to me] just to hear the flow of the words and the awesome rhythm it has. I want to memorize this thing. Enough babbling. I present to you: "The Raven."

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
"Tis the wind, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking, "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!

Written by jihwan at 09:41 PM.

4 x 0 = 0

During class today, I was busily taking notes when my nose started itching. So, being the insanely clean person I am, I scratched the inside of my nostril with my thumb. You know, the inconspicuous substitute for actually getting your index finger way up there and pretending it's Steve the snake.

I caught a girl looking at me with a disgusted look on her face, like she was sick to her stomach. I snorted and proceeded to relieve myself of my annoyance. Then she actually coughed, to make me look at her, stuck her tongue out, and pretended to gag.

I gave her my most withering, pitying look, rolled my eyes, then continued to make myself comfortable.

I'll pick my nose if I want to. Jerk.

Written by jihwan at 08:15 PM.

3 x 0 = 0

There are times when your pride and intellect gets their butts kicked by the hard slap of plain human stupidity. When someone tells me that I will mess up if I don't do things a certain way, I tend to become defensive. I shoo the idea away, prideful of my responsible self. Here's the story of my pride's humiliating fall.

I got my retainers a couple weeks back, and my orthodontist had specifically warned me: "Don't take them off at restaurants. I've known people who wrapped them up in napkins and threw them away, and ended up pawing through the garbage can at McDonald's."

Psh... What does she think I am, stupid? I'm 16 years old! I think I can handle a little piece of plastic and metal.. anyone who loses his retainer at a fast-food restaurant is an ididot.

After school today, my friends and I went to the local library to study. We decided to walk over to a nearby Carl's Jr. to grab a bite to eat. I didn't feel like eating with my retainers on, so I took it off and wrapped it up in a napkin.

You can guess where this goes.

By the time I ran back into the restaurant, sweating, heart beating like a caffeine-crazed rat's, I was already thinking of the punishments that were to be handed down to me. My mother isn't the most tolerant person in the world, and I was cringing already at the backlash of this stupid, stupid mistake. Retainers don't come cheap, and in short, I was utterly dead. I asked the employees, the manager, and even grossed some people out by peeking into the trash can.

Finally, a very nice employee got a pair of rubber gloves and the search began. As I was sifting through the garbage of leftover burgers and ketchup and chili and soggy fries, a small part of my head noted the irony of this situation. After I found the stupid thing [whew], and was washing up in the restroom, I smiled to myself.

Sometimes, there's nothing more humbling than having to dig through the garbage at a fast-food joint, looking for something that belongs in your mouth.

Written by jihwan at 07:38 PM.

5 x 0 = 0

The smoke blocked out the sun, and by 5 pm, it was pitch dark.

This fire is getting out of control.

This is the kind of stuff you hear about in the news, read about in the papers. You don't dream of people you know evacuating their homes; you can't imagine a blazing fire turning houses to ash 5 miles from where you live.

I walk outside, and I can't breathe. I turn the TV on, and there are flames all over the screen. I wonder if our school will close, like many others in the area. And to that, I can't help but think, "Man, I'm gonna miss so many notes and quizzes.."

This is not like my other entries; it hasn't been thought out, it hasn't been checked for grammatical errors. These are my thoughts as I have them.

I'm wondering what I would have to pack if we were to be evacuated. Gets me thinking of what's really important.

I think the guy up there is trying to tell us something. If ever we needed prayer, it's now. Interesting how this year, Christian Club has been trying to be a people of prayer. It's funny how God works sometimes.

Written by jihwan at 06:42 PM.

I disagree!

[I had a link to a video clip of a rat stuck in a fish tank full of pirahnas. But I just found out that the link is broken. So you can't enjoy the sight of a rat being torn to bloody chunks. Too bad for you.]

Written by jihwan at 12:01 AM.

2 x 0 = 0

We have this turtle. We've HAD this turtle. For about 8-9 years. I know that turtles can live up to 200 years old, but this specific turtle has had its share of tough times, and frankly, I think it's invincible. It's a smallish red-eared slider named Speedy, and it won't die.

There was the time I accidentally chucked the turtle over the balcony [don't ask], and watched in horror as it fell out of sight onto the ground. My sister and I ran down the stairs, her shrieking like a banshee, and me wondering if I'd killed the thing. Lo and behold! It had landed in the dirt and was crawling around happily, as though it had just been on a reptile roller coaster, with its little beer helmet and foam finger and $11 cup of coke.

There was also the time when a opposum [it's pronounced "possum," people!!] attacked it and its little friend, Susie. We discovered that Susie had been killed [cursed rodent!!], and when my mom went to pick it up, almost fainted because the shell had become all soft and mushy due to decomposition and it was not what she was expecting so it freaked the crap out of her and she wouldn't touch it until she took about a billion deep breaths and got out some barbeque prongs and fired up the grill. But that's another story. The point is, Speedy lived through the fierce onslaught of a vicious rodent, its little turtle mindset determined on survival, its little turtle claws hanging stubbornly onto its little turtle life.

I can't deny the fact that my sister and I aren't the world's best caretakers. We would forget to clean its bowl, refill the water, and feed it for periods of 2-3 months. But the thing is like a rock. It just sits there and doesn't do anything. "Anything," meaning "dying."

I'm beginning to suspect that I've found the fifth ninja turtle.

Written by jihwan at 06:07 PM.

2 x 0 = 0