My favoritest holiday ever: halloween. There's candy, my friends, and being able to dress up like I wish I could dress up everyday.. Well maybe not everyday. But on days when I feel like I should be a superhero. Because I am. But not everyone knows that. Not that I was a super hero this year. Unless racequeens are superheros.
Anyway.. Here we go, me and Greg.... There are more pictures. But I can sleep and you can wait.
Anyway.. Here we go, me and Greg.... There are more pictures. But I can sleep and you can wait.
Finished FE.
*poke poke*
Still Alive.
Ha.. I win.
*happydance*
*poke poke*
Still Alive.
Ha.. I win.
*happydance*
I lunched with theForsaken on Monday at a sushi buffet. New people always have neat things to share, and he shared with me something that a maternal unit shared with him when he was growing up... I hope to one day share with my little boy(s)....
Heaven forbid that I raise sons like 90% of the boys I've met in Lubbock
*This will be after college when rule #2 below will become: Women are Evil.
Woman was not created from the sole of a man's foot so she would be trod upon, nor from the top of his skull to be above him, but from his rib, to protect him and be close to his heart. *
Heaven forbid that I raise sons like 90% of the boys I've met in Lubbock
*This will be after college when rule #2 below will become: Women are Evil.
I had some crazy allergies when I was growing up. At one point, mom and dad had to get rid of my stuffed friends that weren't all natural fibers and I spent a good bit of time in the hospital. When I got out, I still had to go in for shots twice a week. It just became easier to get my shots at home, and so dad practiced on oranges... and I got my shots - sans post-poke lollypops - in the comfort of my pajamas.
Daddy knew I hated needles. And he did his best to help me forget about them. He would sing me songs, tell me stories, or pull out a toy to play with me. My favorite memory, though, is the one with the paper bag.
After my weekly innoculations, daddy took out a brown paper bag and drew on it with my crayons. Then he took a pair of scissors and cut up the middle of the bag, cut a hole in the bottom, and two holes in the side. Still teary eyed from the shots, he carefully put my arms through the holes and slipped on my new brown paper vest. He slung me on his hip, put on a smile, and sang to me while he held up my good arm and we danced around the living room. My other arm still hurt like hell, but I looked pretty damn sweet in my new brown vest... and dancing was hell of a lot better than sitting in the car with a lollypop in my mouth. Daddy's always good at making me feel better.
So when he called me Friday and asked how I was doing... and I told him... he sent me this:
20 some odd years later, and 400 miles away, my daddy still finds a way to make it not hurt as much as it does. Like my little paper bag vest, his emails make me feel all kinds of better. Daddies are the best.
Daddy knew I hated needles. And he did his best to help me forget about them. He would sing me songs, tell me stories, or pull out a toy to play with me. My favorite memory, though, is the one with the paper bag.
After my weekly innoculations, daddy took out a brown paper bag and drew on it with my crayons. Then he took a pair of scissors and cut up the middle of the bag, cut a hole in the bottom, and two holes in the side. Still teary eyed from the shots, he carefully put my arms through the holes and slipped on my new brown paper vest. He slung me on his hip, put on a smile, and sang to me while he held up my good arm and we danced around the living room. My other arm still hurt like hell, but I looked pretty damn sweet in my new brown vest... and dancing was hell of a lot better than sitting in the car with a lollypop in my mouth. Daddy's always good at making me feel better.
So when he called me Friday and asked how I was doing... and I told him... he sent me this:
"Do you still remember the story about the two frogs that got trapped in a deep hole that daddy read for you when you were young?
Two frogs while wondering around fell in a deep hole. After a few unsuccessful tries to get out, one of them cried and keep crying, crying: “We are going to die here! The sun is hot! It’s not going to rain! No one will rescue us! Our skin will dry out! Ants are going to eat our meat up and we will leave only our skeletons!!!” And he cried for all the kinds of bad things that he could think of.
The second frog was much more stronger mentally. While trying to calm the other one down, he kept thinking hard to find a way to get out. He wanted them both to rest for a while to regain their strength. After the crying frog had calmed down, he asked the him to blow up his belly as big as possible. He got on the crying frog back and with all of his energy he jumped up and barely caught the edge of the hole and climbed out. He used a rope to pull the other one up, and they went home.
Hieu, the point of this story is don’t let yourself be sad. Be strong, and keep looking for a solution to any problem that you face."
20 some odd years later, and 400 miles away, my daddy still finds a way to make it not hurt as much as it does. Like my little paper bag vest, his emails make me feel all kinds of better. Daddies are the best.
4 Laws of College as taught to me by Mrs. Brown:
- Quarters are GOD
- Men are EVIL
- If you didn't open it, don't drink it
- If you don't have the money in your hot little hands, don't spend it.
- I have no god
- I'm surrounded by the spawn of Satan
- I'm well hydrated
- I can survive 4 weeks without having to buy anything.
You know in the coffee shop how you have these cute slightly lanky guys that walk in with their low slung jeans, drab colored t-shirts with logos on them, shaggy hair, and their laptop? The ones that you wish would talk to you, but don't.. because they're shy?
The cute geek'll talk to you if you were online or better yet... had a myspace profile. With pictures.
To geek guys, cyberdating is just an advanced form of video gaming, and they're are frustrated by a lack of players. Their lack is your strength.
I'm on it, yo.
The cute geek'll talk to you if you were online or better yet... had a myspace profile. With pictures.
To geek guys, cyberdating is just an advanced form of video gaming, and they're are frustrated by a lack of players. Their lack is your strength.
I'm on it, yo.
Williard sent me a hello email today. In it, he attached the little "Hieuy says hola" drawing I left on his whiteboard before I left. Little me in my Plant clothes (tshirt 'n' jeans), a wink, and a wave. I miss Austin. I miss this summer.
Thanks Willard.. And thanks to everyone for helping me get through this week. I love you guys.
Special Thank You to:
--my little Italian sister
--my personal Brazillian hottie
--my super secret squad of ninjas
--the PoshJosh
--Mr. NotreDame
--Bobbert
--A&J
--everyone else that helped/will help keep me sane for the next few weeks.
So I spent a little over two weeks thinking about that perfect thing. "Perfect" being relative, of course. It's that perfect hollandaise sauce Kerby used to put on my eggs benedict that they don't anymore kind of perfect. You might not like it. But I do... And so...
I've decided that it is enough to know that it exists.
I've decided that it is enough to know that it exists.
If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were. -- Kahlil Gibran
When I was about to turn 16, my older brother who I hadn't met yet, sent me a letter. In it he imparted to me some valuable bits of knowledge. One that stuck out was that my car is a weapon. I would take me anywhere I wanted to go, but if were to become sloppy, I could kill myself... or someone else.
I would later learn from my friends that sex is also a weapon. If played with without care or feeling, it could leave a deep and nasty scar.
Back when I was living in Austin and my friends were the only family I had, the late nights watching stars and drinking wine on the roof top of the apartment was a time when nothing else mattered but us. We could be broke, but we would be fed. We would be dead tired, but someone made sure there would be hot tea, a pillow, and a blanket. We could cry, and someone would let us.
Sometimes its best to just run over the possum in the road. The alternative obviously didn't turn out so well. While you can swerve to save its life, he was no friend of that tree, and that tree wasn't going to get out of your way.
On those long drives to and from the flat lands of the netherworld, through cow inhabited greenery, at the end of a long work day, it's good to know that there's someone on the other end of the phone to be your co-pilot until your battery runs out. It's even better to be the co-pilot, because then you can do it from the comfort of your couch.
The best chocolate comes from places with names you can't pronouce correctly. The people that give them to you want you to eat it... and not let it sit for 2 months on your desk.
There's a reason for everything. Whether I like it or not.
I would later learn from my friends that sex is also a weapon. If played with without care or feeling, it could leave a deep and nasty scar.
Back when I was living in Austin and my friends were the only family I had, the late nights watching stars and drinking wine on the roof top of the apartment was a time when nothing else mattered but us. We could be broke, but we would be fed. We would be dead tired, but someone made sure there would be hot tea, a pillow, and a blanket. We could cry, and someone would let us.
Sometimes its best to just run over the possum in the road. The alternative obviously didn't turn out so well. While you can swerve to save its life, he was no friend of that tree, and that tree wasn't going to get out of your way.
On those long drives to and from the flat lands of the netherworld, through cow inhabited greenery, at the end of a long work day, it's good to know that there's someone on the other end of the phone to be your co-pilot until your battery runs out. It's even better to be the co-pilot, because then you can do it from the comfort of your couch.
The best chocolate comes from places with names you can't pronouce correctly. The people that give them to you want you to eat it... and not let it sit for 2 months on your desk.
There's a reason for everything. Whether I like it or not.
Raf tagged me to post google images of:
1. Where I grew up:
Most of my growing up happened in Fort Worth. One of the places I enjoy visiting:
The Bass Concert Hall - Fort Worth, Tx
2. Where I live now:
Currently in Lubbock, Texas where the land could not be flatter. Its perfect for the Wind Research Facility that's near campus:
3. My name:
Well my name brought up a picture of me... fancy that:
4. My grandmother's name.... How about I leave this one out.
5. Favorite food:
Sushi. Specifically: Uni.
6. Favorite Drink:
I like me a pina colada:
7. Favorite Song:
primitive radio gods: standing outside a broken phonebooth with money in my hands.
8. Favorite Smell:
My favorite is: Aqua DiGio, but the hot guy wears Lucky... and I like how it smells on him. I'm also partial to peppermint bathsoap.
9. Favorite Sound:
The Sound of Rain
I now tag: SambaMike, SamIAin't, and JoshPosh to do the same.
1. Where I grew up:
Most of my growing up happened in Fort Worth. One of the places I enjoy visiting:
The Bass Concert Hall - Fort Worth, Tx
2. Where I live now:
Currently in Lubbock, Texas where the land could not be flatter. Its perfect for the Wind Research Facility that's near campus:
3. My name:
Well my name brought up a picture of me... fancy that:
4. My grandmother's name.... How about I leave this one out.
5. Favorite food:
Sushi. Specifically: Uni.
6. Favorite Drink:
I like me a pina colada:
7. Favorite Song:
primitive radio gods: standing outside a broken phonebooth with money in my hands.
8. Favorite Smell:
My favorite is: Aqua DiGio, but the hot guy wears Lucky... and I like how it smells on him. I'm also partial to peppermint bathsoap.
9. Favorite Sound:
The Sound of Rain
I now tag: SambaMike, SamIAin't, and JoshPosh to do the same.
Graduation is weeks away. For those of you who want the formal e-vite, make sure I have your email address. No fancy schmancy parchment with scrolly script and shiny letters. I'm not pulling in the dough just yet.
Same questions from the grownups: Found a job yet? The honest answer is no. The real answer is.. I'm more worried about actually graduating, so I haven't seriously looked.
Mom and dad are both worried because I don't have the bestest gpa. I started with a 3.46, to now below a 3.0. Mom will call one day and tell me to put everything in the hands of the BigManUpstairs™. The next day she's telling me to beg my professors for better grades. Then she tries to smooth over with the 'how's Vivi doing'. He's not caring about a gpa he can't change, mom.
Imagine my frustration.
And I could go on about mean professors and decisions made. But I won't. I'm also not going to shed my dignity and boohoo for a higher letter grade. So I'm not the smartest kid and I have to study and work twice as hard as the next guy, but I don't spend hours putting hmwk in my calculator... and I'm certainly not going to put on waterworks for a grade.
Yes I've interviewed with a few companies. Two I like so far. Only one has been highly disappointing. I say that only because the interviewer kept staring at the wall while I was talking and I wanted to ask if he was bored. Everyone else seemed nice enough.
So, I'll find a jobbie job. Move to a real city. Get a Masters, and an MBA. Be not a poor student anymore. And that's the plan.
Same questions from the grownups: Found a job yet? The honest answer is no. The real answer is.. I'm more worried about actually graduating, so I haven't seriously looked.
Mom and dad are both worried because I don't have the bestest gpa. I started with a 3.46, to now below a 3.0. Mom will call one day and tell me to put everything in the hands of the BigManUpstairs™. The next day she's telling me to beg my professors for better grades. Then she tries to smooth over with the 'how's Vivi doing'. He's not caring about a gpa he can't change, mom.
Imagine my frustration.
And I could go on about mean professors and decisions made. But I won't. I'm also not going to shed my dignity and boohoo for a higher letter grade. So I'm not the smartest kid and I have to study and work twice as hard as the next guy, but I don't spend hours putting hmwk in my calculator... and I'm certainly not going to put on waterworks for a grade.
Yes I've interviewed with a few companies. Two I like so far. Only one has been highly disappointing. I say that only because the interviewer kept staring at the wall while I was talking and I wanted to ask if he was bored. Everyone else seemed nice enough.
So, I'll find a jobbie job. Move to a real city. Get a Masters, and an MBA. Be not a poor student anymore. And that's the plan.
Conversation from earlier today:
me: must install new version of software. new version = less poopie.
mindy: unfortunately not true for humans.
me: this is true. which makes me think...
me: i noticed that with every iteration of "guys i meet that i could so date", they become exponentially less and less available. when i was 20, i couldn't keep boys off me, but they had serious flaws...and now... they're newer and improved, better, longer lasting, no artificial additives, comes with car and own job even. but increasingly less available.
mindy: yeah really!
me: i should blog this for posterity.
mindy: agreed
me: so when i die in a state of less than alone, people will know why. not that they would care, really, but it would be documented for science's sake.
me: <-- such the martyr
mindy: indeed. *tosses roses* *applause*
me: *deep bow* *tears* *wave* *exits stage left*
mindy: lol
mindy: i once asked a kid i was babysitting whether he wanted to save his leftover ketchup on his plate for posterity. he said, "who's that?"
me: must install new version of software. new version = less poopie.
mindy: unfortunately not true for humans.
me: this is true. which makes me think...
me: i noticed that with every iteration of "guys i meet that i could so date", they become exponentially less and less available. when i was 20, i couldn't keep boys off me, but they had serious flaws...and now... they're newer and improved, better, longer lasting, no artificial additives, comes with car and own job even. but increasingly less available.
mindy: yeah really!
me: i should blog this for posterity.
mindy: agreed
me: so when i die in a state of less than alone, people will know why. not that they would care, really, but it would be documented for science's sake.
me: <-- such the martyr
mindy: indeed. *tosses roses* *applause*
me: *deep bow* *tears* *wave* *exits stage left*
mindy: lol
mindy: i once asked a kid i was babysitting whether he wanted to save his leftover ketchup on his plate for posterity. he said, "who's that?"
The National Hurricane Center is down to it's last name for the Hurricane Season: Wilma. Vince popped up and got his name this past Sunday, the next one is Wilma, and then they start using Greek Letters. Hurricane Season goes on until November 30; they're definitely going to need more names.
Greek letters are boring though. They should really go to college campuses and compile a list of the nasty professors and rank them by meanest... and use those names. I wouldn't mind seeing Hurricane Dr. MeanieHead as headline national disaster.
Greek letters are boring though. They should really go to college campuses and compile a list of the nasty professors and rank them by meanest... and use those names. I wouldn't mind seeing Hurricane Dr. MeanieHead as headline national disaster.
Somethings just stick in your head when you hear them.. Like from the party last night:
"I could kick her into the toilet" - girl, talking about her dog.
"We're wearing the same shirt, but I have a six pack, she obviously doesn't." - girl, talking about the other girl.
"If we weren't such good friends...." - Joe.
...goodtimes.
"I could kick her into the toilet" - girl, talking about her dog.
"We're wearing the same shirt, but I have a six pack, she obviously doesn't." - girl, talking about the other girl.
"If we weren't such good friends...." - Joe.
...goodtimes.
| You Are Machiavelli's Spawn |
 You're going to get what you want, and no one's going stand in your way. (Even if it's just knocking out your roomie to get the last ice cream sandwich!) People who slow you down, simply need to be taken out - by any means possible. You are the master of charming, wooing, manipulating, and intimidating. |
Say you run into that perfect something. You weren't even looking, but it just happened to be there. Perfect. But for whatever reason, you can't have it - it's too expensive, you don't have your wallet, it's for display purposes only, or already owned by that beeatcha down the street. It could be yours, in some other reality plane, or if you were insanely lucky, or sold your soul to the devil (and we all know he don't want yours). And, if this perfect something was yours, you could die happy; life would be complete, etc.
Is it enough to know that that perfect something exists?
Is it enough to know that that perfect something exists?
Most of you read about The Crime of “Unauthorized Reproduction”. A newly proposed change in the law for Indiana that simply says, marriage is a legal condition of motherhood.
This morning I found this article. A student's Bill of Right's project gets turned in to the Secret Service by a WalMart Employee. Ridiculous.
So, if you want to be a mommy, but can't find a baby's daddy worth keeping around, Indiana is not the place for you. Also, invest in a digital camera.
This morning I found this article. A student's Bill of Right's project gets turned in to the Secret Service by a WalMart Employee. Ridiculous.
So, if you want to be a mommy, but can't find a baby's daddy worth keeping around, Indiana is not the place for you. Also, invest in a digital camera.
Weekend was spent in Dallas. Did the SLTS thing with ASME. Plane was late, and the hotel was out of rooms so I got to stay with M&V in the "Texas Room". I think I was supposed to comment on the rattlesnake on the nightstand, but seeing as how my snake's still missing, I kinda would like to see him on my nightstand. Miss Blanche is quite cute as ever, 3 years old!! I can't believe it. I didn't get pictures this time, I was busy sucking down the goodness that was homemade pesto sauce and pasta.
Spent Saturday night and Sunday with PhuPhu. The whole lack of internal GPS in her head isn't apparent until one rides around with her.. and mom. Wilbur, the new puppy, is soo nini! He's extremely well behaved and has an instant lazy mode. Very much like Phu ;-). Missed seeing dad. Mom is doing well. Ate at On the Border, and omg, I'm in love with their chicken enchiladas.
Came back and had lunch at the OysterBar with Joel. Info session with BP... Interview tomorrow.
Spent Saturday night and Sunday with PhuPhu. The whole lack of internal GPS in her head isn't apparent until one rides around with her.. and mom. Wilbur, the new puppy, is soo nini! He's extremely well behaved and has an instant lazy mode. Very much like Phu ;-). Missed seeing dad. Mom is doing well. Ate at On the Border, and omg, I'm in love with their chicken enchiladas.
Came back and had lunch at the OysterBar with Joel. Info session with BP... Interview tomorrow.
