239: Awake, O Spring!

To say that I tend to have unbridled bouts of obsession would be an understatement. As I mentioned in my previous post, on Valentine's Day I ventured out in an ice storm to be awaken with Spring Awakening. The chain of events that lead me to the Eugene O'Neill Theater went something like this:

On Friday the 9th...
Being bombarded with the TV advertisement of the said musical every late night for nearly the entire week leads me to finally seek the iTunes store for the cast recording. Sampling a few songs inevitably lands me to open my wallet. The night peaks and reverberates with purple sounds of Duncan Sheik and blue lyrics of Steven Sater. And I just realize, I don't know what the previous sentence really means.

In the early hours of Saturday the 10th...
Having listened to the album a few... hundreds of times and having read several reviews, I buy into the hype. I'm sold faster... yes, I am had quicker than Renée was with Tom Cruise's hello. The homepage announces that there are seats that are on stage. Stage seats! I click the link to Tickets. They are affordable. And before I lay myself to sleep, one seat is eventually mine. The crazed, red eyed monster is appeased.

On Sunday...
As God decreed, I rest.

On Lincoln's Birthday...
Feelings of agitation, anxiety, and anticipation ascend to a fever pitch, because April 25 is too far away. And behold, a friend of mine informs me that her company, unlike my cheap ass one, provides their employees with perks, such as discounted theatre tickets. Should I use it? Should I try to see the show earlier than April 25?

On Valentine's Day...
I'm in row B, four seats in from the right aisle. And I get to see every saliva projectile launched out of Jonathan Groff's mouth, and not to mention, his bare ass, TWICE.

Today...
I'm still obsessed with the show... and the cast... and the music... What can I say, I am a fan. But like all my other obsessions, this too will fade, and I'll be back to being normal. But in the meantime, I'm going to watch David Letterman tonight to watch the cast perform.

Oh, for the funniest synopsis of the musical, click here.

238: Loveless in New York

A friend of mine suggested that I go to a Valentine's Day party hosted by the good people of lovetastic.com. Well, I didn't go. But I did check out the site and read a few funny profiles. So, I was inspired to write one too. And I decided that I would share some of what I wrote. Here it is:

The Essay

Simply put, I’m a sap. It’s in my blood. But don’t worry, you don’t need to pass me the tissue. Because the thing is, I tend to pit my heart against my head for a battle royale.

I’m a believer of action speaks louder than words. But the thing is, talking is an action, isn’t it? So, now I feel conflicted.

Oh, if ignorance is bliss, why do they say the unexamined life is not worth living? I don’t know, I still think bliss is found in ignorance. Come on, do we really need to know that Britney shaved her head?

I’m a glass is half full kind of a guy. But I once heard a comedian (I forget his name) say that glass being half full might not be a good thing. That it depends on what’s in the glass. And seriously, he makes a valid point. I sure don’t want a glass half full of sh*t. In fact, I know I don’t want that glass at all.

It’s important to know what one wants in life. But is it really dumb to say, "I’ll know it when I see it!"? Eh, I guess I have to quote George Michael by saying, "I gotta have faith," and be done with it.

Anyways, can I ask beg you, Dear Readers, to join as well? Because if you do, we, as in you and me, get, uh, whole two weeks of free subscription. Supposedly the subscription lets you email the members. If you don't have it, you'd have no way of letting the guy know you are interested in him, and then have the guy tell you to f*ck off, or worse, ignore you. So use this link, https://lovetastic.com/friends/TIAQU and sign up! Do it for me. Because you want me to be happy, right?

Right?!

237: Bah, Humbug!

Reliable sources inform me that today is some special day for couples. I hear that these couples exchange gifts with one another, like flowers, candies, chocolates, cards, etc., as a demonstration of their love for one another. This bizarre behavior goes further: some couples go out to town for a romantic night out.

Well, on this stormy day in New York, I wish for these couples to not... I don't know, get splashed with cold murky water by a cabby aiming to zoom down the street with the intent to hit every puddle he can. No, we certainly wouldn't want that. Besides, it's snowing. Oh wait, I know. I wish for these happy couples to NOT slip on a patch of ice and fall, cracking their heads, resulting in a trip to the emergency room and having to wait for hours to see a disgruntled doctor to suture their gashed heads. No, we most definitely don't want that. No, we don't.

But you know, I'm not going to be sad about my single-hood. I'm not going to go home and waste away the night watching TV feeling sorry for myself.

Cuz ya’ know
I don’t do sadness
Not even a little bit
Just don’t need it in my life

Yes, what I intend on doing is trek on over to the Eugene O'Neill Theater to watch the boy who sings that refrain. Yours Truly will go alone to watch a Broadway Musical, Spring Awakening! And you know what? It's going to be awesome. Some may even say, FABULOUS. And I'd have to agree. So, YAY me!!! YAY to the single me!!!

Cuz ya’ know
I don’t do sadness
Not even a little bit
Just don’t need it in my life

236: Chill, Dude!

Chill, Dude! What's up?!
So it's chilly. So what?
Here have some chili.

Chili! It heats you up!

***
Obviously, I'm not in advertising. Anyhoo...

***
From a far yonder, a voice called out and it commanded, "Goeth forth and maketh chili."

"My Dear Queen," I replied, "I doeth not knowth the way of boiling beans, meat, and spices." Continuing on, "how can I, a humble servant, obey?"

"Seek and Ye shall find," reminded the voice. And like a puff of Glade® Wisp® Scented Oil, the voice disappeared. Shaking out of a foggy, yet fragrant, haze, I sprung into action, eagerly and earnestly, seeking, searching to savor the magical elixir of beans, meat, and spices. And like GE Edison™ light bulb, my mind illuminated.

Yes, I have found the perfect way to make my chili!

With my wallet, I ventured out to the cold. Weaving past the obstacles we, the royal "we," call stupid New York pedestrians, which by the way, I'm proud to be one, I ended up at an entrance where a red-headed girl smiles. At the counter, I exchanged my money (a little more than a Washington) for the ingredients for my special chili.

Recipe:
1 small Wendy's chili with cheese
2 packets of Hot sauce
1 packet of crackers

Directions:
Open the lid. Tear up the hot sauce packets and squeeze every drop into the cup. Keeping the packet intact, crumple the crackers with your hand. Open the packet and pour in the cracker crumbs. Stir with Wendy's plastic spoon, making sure to mix the chili, the hot sauce, the cracker crumbs, and the cheese thoroughly. Finally, partake!

And the tummy was satisfied, and all Queen's people said: Ah, chili.

235: Seriously?

Seriously!

I almost missed my anniversary. But I didn't! YAY

This blog is two years old. YAY

Although I've not been very consistent with my writing, this little site has entered its Terrible Two's. YAY

What does that mean? Will fullofhype throw frequent tantrums? Will fullofhype be petulant? YAY

Here's to another year of writing! YAY

Seriously!

***
Oh, today is when LOST returns with 16 new episodes. YAY

234: Deranged

Did you know that you're merely a product of an imagination?

Douglas Adams, in his second book of the "Hitchhiker's" series, "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe," speculates... Well, he doesn't speculate so much as asserts:

It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.

I find comfort in the words. Before I elaborate, consider this:

Did you note that Douglas Adams does not specify of whose imagination the "people you may meet from time to time" are the products?

But there's really no sense in you trying to figure out whose imagination Douglas Adams was referring to, because I already know the answer. Isn't it obvious? It's my imagination. You are merely a product of my imagination.

And I find comfort. I'm comforted because everyone loves... no, worships me. But because I want to be humble, I imagined the vast majority of people to pretend not to worship me, and in fact, I imagined them to ignore me and treat me like a total stranger. Seriously, I can totally wipe everyone out. Even you!

There! You don't exist.

And voila! You exist again.

What will you do without me? Oh yes, nothing. Why? Because you are merely a product of my imagination.

Ah... I find comfort. I'm comforted because there's no true rejection, and conversely, there's no true acceptance. There's really nothing. Only I exist. I am. I just am.

Holy SHIT! I'm GOD!

Don't worry, peons. I will keep my powers in check until I die. You won't have to love me. You won't have to worship me. You won't even have to search me to find meanings to your little lives. Besides, most of you won't ever search. And for those of you who search, you'll most likely (in environmental scientists' term, that's 90%) ignore the truth. But that's A-Ok. I like my world this way. Besides, you are merely a product of my imagination. (Repetition helps. You'll retain it better.)

Yes, I find comfort. I'm comforted...

233: 100TAM 2.0 (Work In Progress #4)

This is the fourth installment of the second list. This one, let me tell you, is long overdue. And I promise it won't be as wordy as my other list.

1. I'll start with a secret. Shhh, don't tell anyone, but I'm... an American.
2. I don't look it, because, well, I come from a Korean stock. (It's a fancy way of saying I was born in Korea.)
   
3. So, I'm a Korean-American. Oh, by the way, did you notice the hyphen?
4. Since no one ever asks, I'll just go on and share: No. 3 is one of my many reasons for this barely noticed humble blog's moniker.
   
5. And it pains me to acknowledge this but... It's shocking... I've an accent.
6. But no, no, no. All but the first three years of my schooling from kindergarten to grad school was in these States.
7. It's just that (and let me use my favorite excuse) I've been for a good few months in the latter part of what I call "transition years" a mute. So the language center of my brain, undergoing a tremendous amount of stress (and I'm using my highly acute skill of diagnosis), failed to develop normally.
   
8. When I did regain my "voice," the Korean I spoke was tainted with an American accent, and I spoke it poorly. Compounding further my language impediment, as those who've met me will attest, Me don't speaks the Engrish very good.
9. Yes, growing up, I've been called by many snooty American-born Korean- and other Asian-Americans a FOB. And when you can't kill 'em, you join 'em. I am a FOB, I'll remain a FOB, I shall die a FOB. The irony is, though, a lot of them were homo-ethnics (a new word I am coining now; homo-ethnic [noun]: a person who tends to socialize exclusively with those of the same ethnic or racial background, out of convenience or out of racism.)
10. While we're on the subject of "homo," Je suis un homosexuel; Soy un homosexual; 私は同性愛者である；나는 동성애자 이다; I am a homosexual. (Eh! Sounded too formal...) I'm a fag. (Hmm... a little derogatory, no?) I'm a gay man. I am gay. (Ok, better.)
    
11. It seems when you're gay, you need to be able to disclose certain information like... like... like your sex life depends on it. Such as: "Hi, I'm 5' 10" (You say: Okay, that's a good height), 150 lbs (Ooo, a little on the skinny side), just turned 30 (Yikes! But that's okay, as long as... you know... just remember always to subtract 2"), and I'm a down-to-earth, average guy (What?!) looking for the same (*silence*)."
    
12. But the thing is, I'm not just gay. Okay, huddle in closer. Are you close? Okay, I'm not sure how to say it delicately, so I'm just going to say it. Oh, God. Okay, hoo-hoo-hoo. I'm ready. Here it goes. I'm... I'm... Imachrisyun. I'm one of those "Is Jesus your personal Lord and Savior?" Christian.
    
13. Hello?
14. You okay?
15. Did I lose you?
    
16. Well, I was. I am. Well, no. I should clarify: I'm a "Jesus is MY personal Lord and Savior" Christian. I would never impose my beliefs on anyone.
    
17. Look, it's not like I'm saying that I'm a Republican.
18. What?
19. No, no, no.
20. I'm NOT. I'm not a Republican. Believe me.
21. Speaking of the Republicans and their having moved this country in the wrong direction, I've been moved around a lot during the "transition years."
22. The "transition years," I've mentioned in #7, are the first two years I've spent in America, where I was constantly uprooted, living with my relatives instead with my own family.
23. At first, Mom and I fly from Seoul, Korea to Honolulu, Hawaii, to briefly settle with my maternal grandfather. But the stay is all too brief.
    
24. Mom and I find ourselves, next, in the armpit of America, New Jersey, where Mom is hired by her cousin to be the nanny for his two bratty, want-for-nothing children.
    
25. But as soon as I settle, Mom decides to send me to her brother's in Los Angeles. She doesn't join me.
    
26. My aunt grudgingly agrees to watch over me, provided that Mom take me back at the year's end. Yet Mom, finding herself incapable to hold her end of the bargain, sends me instead to my dad's sister's place in Tacoma, Washington.
27. I live there, practically ignored by my guardians and my cousins, until the end of school year. Soon thereafter, I rejoin Mom in New York, in our own place.
28. Mom tells me the boy I was before and the boy I became after the "transition years" are different. She wasn't talking about the height I gained or the number of childhood teeth I lost. Mom has apologized to me. Whenever she recounts our stories, she expresses how she still feels bad.
    
29. I believe Mom shouldn't feel bad at all. It was the situations and circumstances we were in. Hindsight: it's always better than foresight, isn't it?
30. I admit, my biggest fear in life is rejection.
31. So, I don't want to wish my worst fear onto others. It's the hardest thing for me to do, to reject anyone who has found a place in my heart.
    
32. That means, it takes a lot for me to let anyone get close to me.
    
33. But don't get me wrong. I want to be more open, more giving. I'm not an island. Hell, I can no longer stay to be one anymore.
    
34. I hope, though, that those who've gotten to know me find me as their loyal, reliable, and devoted friend.
35. Yes, I want to be known as Caring...
36. And Kind...
37. And Loving.
38. But not Nice. Let's never describe Yours Truly as nice, okay?
    
39. Did you know that the simple philosophy of paying it forward appeals to me.
    
40. If I practice it, live it, maybe I can say that I brought a little bit of Kingdom of Heaven to this world.
    
41. What can you say? I'm naïve enough to believe in world peace.
42. I blame my Christian upbringing.
    
43. Seriously, like the song says, all you need is love.
44. Are you laughing at me? Are you?
45. Eh. Moving on.
    

To be continued...

232: "LOVE"

I tend to fall on the strange side of life. Well, at least I think I do. Consider this:

A boy grows up in what essentially is a single parent household, yet the parents aren't divorced. They are separated by circumstances, or at least that's how the boy sees it. How can he see otherwise when the boy is told that the dad is away in a foreign country to garner income for his wife and son. And once in a while, the dad does come home to stay, with him, the whole family, together.

However, the man who was the boy can't remember if his dad and mom shared the same bed then.

The boy gets up one morning. Rubbing his goop encrusted eyes, he waddles towards the sound of a woman laughing. He opens the door and sees the dad lying on his stomach. Next to his languid body is kneeling a fully clothed lady, who broadens more her already wide smile. With a singsong voice she asks, "Did you get up?" Nodding yes, the boy waddles in for a hug. "Wanna see something?" she whispers into the boy's ear. As the boy nods, she yanks away the blanket, baring the dad's bottom. A gentle smack--her hand meets the flesh. The boy does the same, giggling uncontrollably. "Get up." The boy echoes the same, "get up, get up." And the room fills with Laughter...

Warmth.., and...

Light.

Yet, the man concedes that the memory of the heart may have colored the event with hues of a little stroll in the gentle spring rain or a bike ride through a crisp autumn's day. So, the man doubts and is unsure...

He's unsure if the word, "love," was ever exchanged between them...

God knows, I grew up without ever hearing it from them or using it to them. But I know it was there. Or is it again my heart's memory playing tricks on me?

I remember clearly, how the boy, while returning home from the zoo, held hands with both of his parents, urging them to lift him up, so that he could swing between them, like a little monkey he pretended to be.

231: Let's Whine a Bit, Shall We?

I like whining. Whining makes my day go by. I live to whine. Whining makes me feel like a winner.

So, imagine my whining voice, and in random order, I present you a list of what I whine about:

1. My life sucks.
2. I hate my job.
3. Why don't I have a boyfriend?
4. Why don't I ever get cruised?
5. Match.com hates me.
6. My life sucks.
7. I hate my body.
8. I think I'm losing my hair.
9. I hate my job.
10. I have no social life.
11. Why don't I have friends?
12. I'm getting a pot belly. But I'm still skinny as hell!
13. Dammit, I feel like a poster child for LiveAid.
14. That's too dated. I feel old now.
15. I hate my job.
16. I want a boyfriend!
17. My back hurts.
18. The world's against me.
19. God hates me.
20. Why am I still hungry?
21. Why didn't "Dreamgirls" get the Best Picture nomination?
22. I hate commuting to work.
23. It's so hard finding a perfect place to buy.
24. I wish I had more money.
25. I'm bored, bored, bored, BOOOOOOOOORED.

Seriously, why does my life suck?

WHY?~

230: Image

Take a look at this and let me know what you think:

I can't decide whether I agree with the filmmaker completely. He makes an excellent argument and I understand where he is coming from. Any positive images of minorities in commercials have been slow in coming. And more often than not, Madison Avenue has played into people's negative stereotypes of minorities. Though, his assessment of the last commercial troubles me. If I don't accept his last example, then there's a chance that I'm too ignorant to recognize hatred towards me. If I accept it, then there's a chance that I'm being too sensitive, finding hate where there may be no meaning whatsoever. I don't know. What do you think?

229: Spartans

Mine eyes have seen the hotness of the coming of King Leonidas and his 300 men. I am converted. I shall stand firmly with the warmongers now. Joining their chorus, I shall sing, "Stand and fight!" The American Republic must not rest on its laurels of conquering Babylonia. No, never! While there is radioactive evil lurking just across the border, we must press on and fight on. Yes, like King Leonidas and his 300 men, our warriors, too, must fight the Persians.

But a caveat—our brave warriors must dress like them:


and the must pose like him:


Only then, I give my support wholly and completely.

By the way, I don't know if the filmmaker is making any political statement regarding this current war through the movie, and I highly doubt that there is a commentary, seeing that the graphic novel predates Bush's presidency, but I like creating meanings out of nothing.

228: To Soar and to be Sore

I'm acquiring a new skill; I'm learning to snowboard. Yesterday I went with this gay ski group here in NY to one of their many day trips. I had a very modest goal in learning a new skill: to Toe Edge. Admittedly, acquiring this technique meant I'd spend most of the time coming down the bunny hill in a prone or a supine position. Yes, indeed the morning was discouraging, but due to my natural athleticism (HAHAHA!), by the end of the day, I've got the hang of edging my board with my toe. Yet true to form, I was reminded that in Life, nothing is easy. Pain comes hand in hand with the journey to meet a goal.

227: A "Good Morning" or A "F*ck You"

There are times, while I'm walking on the crowded streets, when suddenly someone starts honking at a taxi cab dropping off a passenger. Soon there after, expletives are exchanged between the offended cabbie and the impatient driver. "F*ck you," one yells. The other counters with the same, only louder. It's a comical display, which only confirms my cynicism, that this is mankind's true nature.

And then every morning, there's this one MTA worker on the platform of Grand Central's Downtown Lexington Avenue Line who greets passengers getting off the train. "Good morning, have a nice day," he says smiling. And every time I see him, my cynical mind tells me either MTA must have a program where they hire retarded people to lighten up the moods of the New York City's worker-drones or he must have found the secret of saying "F*ck you" with a smile and getting the listeners to smile back at him with genuine appreciation.

But if I soften my heart a bit, I can appreciate the MTA worker's daily ritual greeting for what it is. One human being making an effort to connect with another in a kind and sincere way. To bring to someone something positive, even if it's a small gesture of saying a greeting to a stranger. And I hope that this is mankind's true nature.

Or at the very least, my nature...

226: Fuuka Update

Granted, Fuuka is an awful name (I blame my idiotic brother-in-law), but just look at her! Just look at her! Gaze upon her cherubic face and marvel at her beauty.

Now, when you comment, dear Readers, please use at least three adjectives to describe my new niece, Fuuka.

225: I'm #1

What site comes up first when you google "if I lay here?"

That's right!


I'm #1. Woohoo!

224: NOOOOOooooooooo......

What do this: and this: have in common?

Although there's nothing wrong with either one of them, there's something foul afoot when their names sound the same. Which, by the way, confirms my suspicion that my sister is an idiot.

Seriously!

Worst still, what if people associate this: with this: ?

Sigh. What can I do? For my niece's sake, I pray that she stays put in Japan and never meets anyone who speaks English.

Everyone, this is my niece: , 楓花 or Huuka (Fuuka).

223: Introducing...

...my niece. Yet to be named.

She's so ugly! Just look at her flat nose!

Why is my niece so ugly? The girl had better learn to smile! Look at her. She's not even a day old and she's going to have creases! Frowning like that.

Her stats...
Birthday: December 21, 2006
Sign: Sagittarius
Time of Birth: 04:10 (JST)
Weight: 2.93 kg (6.45 lbs)

222: I'm An Uncle ... Again

My sister had a baby. Her fourth child. And she gave birth to my niece ... tomorrow.

Yes, you heard me right. Tomorrow.

Although today is December 20, 2006. My niece WAS born in the morning of December 21, 2006. Japanese time. A morning in Japan is a day before in the evening in New York. Or, tonight in New York is tomorrow morning in Japan.

Still confused?

No? Good.

Now, my sister just needs to tell me the baby's name. And she'd best send a picture! I shall post it when she does. I need to populate this blog with cute pictures.

Yay, I'm an uncle... again.

221: More Than Incidentally...

Klein Sexual Orientation Grid

I scored an average of 3.95

0

1

2

3

4

5

6

Heterosexual

Bisexual

Homosexual

Meaning

This result can also be related to the Kinsey Scale:


0 = exclusively heterosexual
1 = predominantly heterosexual, incidentally homosexual
2 = predominantly heterosexual, but more
than incidentally homosexual
3 = equally heterosexual and homosexual
4 = predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally
heterosexual
5 = predominantly homosexual, incidentally heterosexual
6 = exclusively homosexual

Summary

The idea of this exercise is to understand exactly how dynamic a person's sexual orientation can be, as well as how fluid it can be over a person's lifespan. While a person's number of actual homo/heterosexual encounters may be easy to categorize, their actual orientation may be completely different. Simple labels like "homosexual", "heterosexual", and "bisexual" need not be the only three options available to us.

Take the quiz

More than incidentally, I could possibly take applications for a future wife as well. More than incidentally, I can live a life my parents want for me. Maybe.

NOT!!!

220: Spend Time With Me

The Five Love Languages

My primary love language is probably
Quality Time
with a secondary love language being
Words of Affirmation.

Complete set of results

Quality Time:		10
Words of Affirmation:		8
Physical Touch:		6
Acts of Service:		5
Receiving Gifts:		1

Information

Unhappiness in relationships, according to Dr. Gary Chapman, is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. Sometimes we don't understand our partner's requirements, or even our own. We all have a "love tank" that needs to be filled in order for us to express love to others, but there are different means by which our tank can be filled, and there are different ways that we can express love to others.

Take the quiz

Apparently, if you don't mind being handcuffed and tied to me and forced to tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies, you are a perfect candidate to be my husband. I'm taking applications.