This ND-IV promotion is stressing me out.
In fact. It's pissing me off!
I have absolutely no desire to do it. And at the same time I'm knee deep in preparation, so I can't back out either.
There are only two ways this thing could pan out.
I'll either barely get by and be promoted, or crash & burn and be the dumbass of the group.
Either way I think I'll still be disappointed in my performance.
After all, I'm my biggest critic.
For some of us, Eastern Europe is a vacation spot.
For others, it's home. Unfortunately for some, they don't have it quiet as nice as we do here in the States.
These are some pics and notes sent by my friend who's visiting parts of Eastern Europe to follow around some missionaries.
a wheelchair-bound girl Danika at her house
Danika's father ripping pages out of a book to burn in order to keep their house warm
The Ghetto. Note, the missing windows on many of the rooms. It was –1 Celsius and I was told that was a warm day.. 
Valentin showing love to a girl who has been left to care for her two younger brothers after her mom died. In the rear is her bedridden dad and the baby of another woman who her dad, has shacked up with. The women is pregnant with the 2nd child due in a month or so.
More picture of the ghetto
We brought new clothes for the kids. Danutsa, the 9 year old assumed her usual roll after her mother died
Despite being young kids, they at full adult meals. It was probably their only real meal for at least a few weeks.
And eat they did.. They went to town!
It was awesome to get them out of the block and into the world where the rest of the people live.
"...while standing in line at the checkout counter, the lady in front of me pulled out food stamps to pay for her groceries. I had never seen food stamps before. They were more colorful than I imagined and looked more like money than stamps. It was obvious as she unfolded the currency that she, I, and the checkout girl were quiet uncomfortable with the interaction. I wished there was something I could do. I wished I could pay for her groceries myself, but to do so would have been to cause a greater scene. The checkout girl quickly performed her job, signing and verifying a few documents, then filed the lady through the line. The woman never lifted her head as she organized her bags of groceries and set them into her cart. She walked away from the checkout stand in the sort of stiff movements a person uses when they know they are being watched."
- donald miller -
Above is an excerpt from a book written by Donald Miller titled, BLUE LIKE JAZZ.
Donald goes on to talk about how it would feel like to use Food Stamps - that he would probably feel uncomfortable and would want to explain to everyone that he doesn't need charity and that he has a good job and makes good money. And ends with how he was too pride-ful to understand the concept of God's grace.
When I read the above excerpt, my heart cringed. A mixture of shame and neglect. And enlightenment, for the lack of better word - or rather, more like a shortage in my list of memorized English vocabulary.
I felt this pain in my heart, because I relate to her. Because I was once there.
You see, in the past, my family had received assistance from government.
Or to put into phrases that are used more often, my family was on welfare. ...until I turned 18 years old.
And I remember using food stamps.
I've never actually used them to purchase anything. My mother had never put me through that shame. Instead she endured all the shame and uncomfortable scenes and stares by never having me buy groceries, but would do it herself.
And I remember just hating standing there in the grocery line as she paid for the items with these food stamps. The mark of poverty. I just wanted to get out of there. I could feel people's stare burning into my back. I could hear them talking amongst themselves saying, "look at these 'poor' people..." But that was probably all just my imagination.
I couldn't understand why she HAD to pull out these monopoly money look-alikes and use them to purchase food while so many people are looking.
I hated standing there next to her. I hated being me. And I've complained and complained.
But you know what. I was probably the worst critic standing in that line. I would say things and think things and abandon my mother at the checkout line. All because I was too pride-ful. Because I was ashamed to embrace who I am.
Because I was ashamed of my mother.
But you know what.
She's a wonderful woman. Being a single mother, raising a boy who's too ashamed of his mom and their financial situation. All in a world filled with people who doesn't give a damn.
I have this coworker who used to sit next to my cubicle.
Her view is sooooo one-sided (I don't know whether that's a Republican view or Democratic view) that I just absolutely hate listening to her, and yet at the same time I like bringing up sensitive issues because it reminds me that the world is full of people who has a lot to learn.
We were on the topic of welfare once, and she went on and on about how people on welfare are lazy and the government shouldn't have to do anything for them and how she hated the fact that the taxes she pay are going towards these "lazy people" who just take advantage of "free money", and blah blah blah, and how she's from a poor family and that she worked hard to get where she is and that her parents never really got her anything, blah blah blah.
I never doubt people when they tell me that they're from a poor family. Because the term poor is relative to how you see your life. I have another coworker who tells me that her family is poor; and yet they live in a $750,000 house and the kids dress in name-brand clothes, and her mother is helping her buy her first house. I don't doubt her claim of being from a poor family. But somehow the image doesn't fit my definition of poor. Once again, it's all relative.
Anyway, going back to the first coworker.
She tells me that she's from a poor family, that they never had anything.
Funny thing is, her father is an engineer working for the government; and back in her parents' generation, an engineer working for government meant that you were doing pretty well. And they used to go on vacations to Hawaii and all.
Somehow I can't picture poor family going on a vacation to Hawaii.
Hell, I've never been to Hawaii.
In fact, my mother hasn't really been on a vacation. And that is another painful stab in my heart.
I wanna take her to Alaska. I imagine it to be very beautiful.
But I just can't seem to get myself to spend that kind of money.
Once again, we come back to full circle.
Money.
I didn't care much for the Black Friday sale this year...
Unlike some past years, I don't have anything that I really want to buy. I guess I've acquired quiet a bit of toys in the past that I really don't have much more to buy. YEAH RIGHT!
Whatever it is...I'm content.
Seeing how I didn't care to get anything on Black Friday sale, I just strolled down to Home Depot in the afternoon of the day after Thanksgiving Day. I was looking to buy some parts to fix my sprinkler. Soon as I strolled in to the store, a greeting lady there at the Yorba Linda store gave me a flier with all the Ads for things of sale. Great! I'll just browse to see if there's anything that I want.
Then there it was. On the front page of the multi-page advertising flier that was printed just the day before. The one that I was just thinking of getting. The one that I was willing to pay full price for. The one that I had just realized that I really need. The one. THE item.
I heard the birds sing and the angels hummm...
The entire page lit up like a christmas tree! That was it! That's what I'm going to go home with. Yes!
Of course I looked through the rest of the flier. New drill bit set. New shower head. All kinds of toys! But I wanted THE ONE. The one purchase - if I was to make any purchase today - the one purchase that would make me feel like a 6 year old boy who just got his Christmas wish. The Front Page Item.
Still I strolled down the aisles of the store nonchalantly - looking for the sprinkler parts that I had come to find.
Then it occurred to me.
If I hold this ad in my hands... and if I want this item so bad... someone is bound to want them too!
OH NO!
I trekked down the entire length of the store, looking for that Front Page Item of the Black Friday sale at the Home Depot. Not knowing what I would find when I got there...
I thought I had found it.
I thought, all I had to do was find a price tag that matched the price on the flier. I mean, there were TENS of the similar items on the rack. And hey, this one looks like the one in the ad. How aobut this one? Hmmmm..... but they don't have the correct price.
Then I heard the unthinkable.
"Oh no. The're all gone!"
What? What do you mean, they're all gone. They're right here.
Then I started to walk towards what she was pointing at.
There it was. The price tag that read, $59.
And underneath it a big empty space, and a small sign written in thin red ink, "Out of Stock."
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !
The One.
The Front Page Item.
The Untimate Toy of the Year.
It's gone.
No other store has them.
And the online store reads... Temporarily Unavailable Online - Check Your Local Store
Moral of the story? No matter whether you care for the Black Friday sale or not, No matter whether you don't think you have anything to buy or not, Always. ALWAYS. Check the Black Friday Sale Listing.
Gorilla Ladders
13 Ft. Multi Position Aluminum Ladder
Model AL-13
Price: $99.00/ea
Special Price: $59.00/ea
Valid through: 11/28/2005Lastnight, went to a concert held at Barclay Theater at University of California, Irvine.
The concert was held by Pacific Youth Orchestra or something. They were amazing! I was expecting some local youth garage band type. But these kids were great! Performance was rather short, I thought.
It was was well worth my time.
So I hung out with one of the kids that performed with the orchestra, her friend, their youth group teacher (she's a friend of mine. That's how I ended up at the concert in the first place), and the parents of the kids and their friends. I didn't mind spending time with the kids. They were friendly kids - much "well mannered", for the lack of better words, than I had thought they would be. Then there were the parents.
I get this eerie feeling being in presence of a group of 1st generation Koreans. I don't know what it is. I just feel so uneasy. I always feel like I'm being judged - like they're discussing my looks, choice of my attire, my choice to wear my hair longer than the "norm". Maybe it's insecurity. Or maybe I've been burned by so many of them, that I just don't care to be in their presence. But then, have I, really?
I dunno. But one thing is for sure.
I do not like to be in a setting where I'm surrounded by Koreans - doesn't matter whether 1st generation, 2nd generation, or what. And definitely not Korean church people. Especially not Korean church people.
That's a big hinderance for me.
I don't know what it is. But I get really uncomfortable. What a surprise, huh.
Right now I'm listening to Typical Cats. Poetry with rhythm.
A bottle of quality british beer, a long unacquainted friend online, and a blank page of blog. What a life.
Yup, you guessed it. I watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Flame. Good movie. Nonetheless it's Harry Potter. Same familiar cast - although much older than they ought to be, they seem. Same Harry Potter twist and plts. And of course some beautiful special effects and amazing cinematography. It was good. Very good, in fact - especially with a little romance mixed in with the rest of the plot.
After watching the movie, I felt like running. To where, I don't know. I just felt like running. Or bashing up a heavy bag. It was a feel-good movie. ...except for the end. Ending absolutely sucked! But they gotta keep open the plot for more opportunities to cash in.
So I've been toying around on the internet a little more lately.
Firefox browser has this cool extension called, "StumbleUpon" and it finds random website for you to view - taking all the guesswork out of looking for a cool website to view. Check out this cool site.
This is addicting!
Also, I've been browsing through others BLOG posts. Seeing how I don't have much patience nor the time to read any posts, I browse really quickly until I find something worthwhile. Like this <-- this is not a blog, just in case you haven't figured out after clicking on it.
So my roommate decided to move out. So that's what I heard, anyway.
Not surprsing - seeing how this house hasn't been all that warm and inviting lately. Figuratively speaking.
As I've mentioned earlier, dinner time is the worst time of the day. I even try to avoid having dinner with him. It's just so friggin' awkward. No one says one word at the dinner table. This is not the kind of family setting I wanna come home to.
So he doesn't wanna speak. Fine. I'm ok with that. I'm confident enough in myself that I don't need anyone, nor do I need anyone's confirmation nor attention. Nonetheless it sucks.
Oh well, he's moving out.
Perhaps it's a good thing. Good for him, good for us.
I guess the only thing I'll really miss is the rent that I will be missing out on.
Maybe I'll look for a roommate - one who isn't such a complete phycho!
Long hours at work continues.
I'd gotten home even later today, but I wanted to come home and have a talk with my mom.
I started to care a little more about work. That little caring is making me stay at work a little more than usual.
Plus I have to get a few things ready for my promotion in two weeks.
Let's see if this one actually happens. They've been waving the word "promotion" in front of my face for the last 1.5 years.
I don't even wanna get into the whole, "how my organization is F*d up and management sucks balls" topic. I figured out every organization has F*d up structure, no matter what company you work for. It's just that mine sucks that much more.
One problem with caring about the job you do is, once you start caring there is no end.
And that will lead you to spend countless hours at work and won't have much time for anything else -- like writing in my own BLOG.
I'm so tired...
The problem with blogging - in my particular case - is that it takes away my time to write in my own journal. And of course I gotta distinguish between the things to put into my journal and the things I want publicly posted.
Well, at least it gets me writing. Which is something I haven't done in way too long of a time.
Was pulling out of a parking spot at Costco yesterday, when I heard an anything-less-than-friendly honk. I stopped, of course, and looked back to find a car about two car-lengths away from my own. No harm there. I wasn't going to hit anyone. And the other car was far away enough to where there was no complication. Then...
I saw that bitch behind the wheel resting her skinny hand rolled up into a fist resting on the steering wheel - with long skinny middle finger sticking way up in the air.
Now this particular day, I was being really agitated with anyone honking their horns at me. Earlier that day some idiot honked at me because I made a right turn into Carl's Jr. parking lot. What the F*#^? That mother F*@^#er should have slowed down. I know my brake light works just fine on my car.
Now anyone who knows me knows that I'm a very relaxed person. And I drive as such. I'm anything but an irrational driver.
That's why when that little bitch with her skinny little finger was flipping me off inside that little civic, probably thinking she can take on the whole F#*&ing world, I punched on my gas. With the car in reverse.
Of course I have enough coutrol, and know exactly the dimensions of my car, to stop right in front of her little bitch mobile.
Once again another honk and a little birdy action inside the civic.
What's wrong with people?
Why the F*^# do you feel the need to honk instead of stopping for a few seconds and letting people out of a parking spot.
You don't win anything by getting ahead of anyone. WTF?!
Why do people feel the need to feel like they're competing with others? Others they don't even know or give a damn about.
And why the F*#^ do people have to piss me off on my day of rest.
My roommate told me once. (he's 36 years old. from a foreign country, here to study.)
He told me once, after he got his car here in the States and started driving around, that people here drive way too fast on the freeways - that he's going around 70mph, and people are passing him. So he decides to floor it and go faster than the guy next to him - going about 80, 85mph.
I just don't get it. You aint a F&#*ing highschool kid. Who the F&#* are you competing with? And for what?
I heard a person say this once. He was talking about our frivilous lifestyle and our quest for image. He said, "We spend all the money - we don't even have. To impress people - we don't even like."
"My eyes feel like raisins."
I have a friend who says that all the time. Whenever we're working long hours at the office, and tired, he always uses that phrase. Whatever.
Went shopping lastnight for some gifts for Angel Tree project.
Angel Tree Project ==
I chose to buy gifts for a 7 year old girl and a 2 year old boy. Going shopping was a little awkward. Well, shopping at Sears was a little awkward. I felt like people were looking at me like I'm some weirdo - especially when I was shopping in girls section.
Maybe it was just the people at Sears. Because I sure didn't feel like that everywhere else I've shopped the rest of the night.
Dinner time at my house absolutely sucks!
I got this roommate who turned out to be a complete psycho. I don't wanna get into any details on this blog. But he's a F*%#ing phycho. As my luck would have it.
As we were driving down to Costco - the greatest toystore to all humankind - in order to return a juicer that my friend bought (you know, the kind advertised by that super healthy 150 year old man), another friend of mine said something interesting.
And I quote, "my smartass tried to juice a banana."
On another note...
I got a random email today from a chic I haven't heard from in several years. I wonder how she found my email address...
Anyway, I don't know what to do about this new-found old friend. She's cute. And sexy. And oh so very delicious. Gawd!
Sometime last week, while visiting a small place called Wallops Island, VA, a friend of mine had an unfortunate encounter with an 8-point buck -- unfortunate for the deer, that is.
What still puzzles me is why the deer decided to ram the side of a 2003 VW GTI. Maybe it thought the front corner panel light was an eye of an intruder. Or maybe it was just bored and decided to play headbutt. In any case it had an unfortunate outcome for the deer. We found it about 50 yards from where my friend had stopped to check the damage done to his car.
Of course this being in the outskirs of Virginia, there was only two state troopers in the entire eastern shore of Virginia, and it took them a good 45 minutes to repond -- we had to get a police report filed in case the insurance company didn't believe the "deer ran into my car" story. What's even funnier than the 45 minute response time nor the suicidal deer, nor the fact that there were only two state troopers in the entire eastern shores of Virginia, is that the state trooper car that responded to our scream for help in the midst of 
pitch black darkness of the forest-covered Assateague town was driven by two state troopers. Does that mean while these two troopers who are patrolling the entire eastern shores of Virginia are busy taking report of a deer suicide, bunch of people are having a field day on 55 mph-limit highway?
Now I've been wanting an apple laptop for quiet some time. I just thought it'd be cool to have one. And it's an apple! Of course I don't really need a laptop, but who really does?
What do I want to do with my new 12" powerbook, if I ever get one?
Write journals / emails on the road.
Make postings on my blog.
AND use it with a GPS unit, so I'll have a better experience in finding places where I want to go.
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeup.
