reminder
Today has been one of those days... a day that reminds me of how much I hate this job. But all is alright, because I have only 8 more days until I can say good-bye to this job and to the people who often treat me like administrative dirt.
8/21/2001
lesson learned
Several hours after I wrote that last post, I checked my voice mail to discover that the Public Allies contact had called me back and offered me a position at an agency, solidifying my role as an ally. Later on that day I was also notified that I was offered another position, which was my first choice.
It's kinda funny how God's timing works. I guess there was a lesson to be learned in all of this and he waited until I was ready to hear it.
So I put my two weeks notice in. It felt so exhilarating. This past weekend I looked for apartments with my friend Jia and we found a great house to share with three other people. So it looks like I'm all set. Wow.
Several hours after I wrote that last post, I checked my voice mail to discover that the Public Allies contact had called me back and offered me a position at an agency, solidifying my role as an ally. Later on that day I was also notified that I was offered another position, which was my first choice.
It's kinda funny how God's timing works. I guess there was a lesson to be learned in all of this and he waited until I was ready to hear it.
So I put my two weeks notice in. It felt so exhilarating. This past weekend I looked for apartments with my friend Jia and we found a great house to share with three other people. So it looks like I'm all set. Wow.
8/17/2001
wyrgan
I hate waiting. Last night at the BNL concert, I was yelling at the other cars in the parking lot, becoming irate when, after 10 minutes, we still hadn't moved an inch. Right now I'm in agony because I was supposed to hear from the Public Allies people whether I was placed at an agency YESTERDAY and they still haven't called me back. I think impatience also stems from my inherent need to plan/organize/schedule every aspect of my life... which of course, is an impossible feat. Think about it: why do you need to wait around if everything is scheduled for you?
Could it be that my "gift/talent/knack" for planning is also a curse?? I guess what this really proves is that I lack faith -- more specifically, faith in God's good plan for me and for his providence in my life (which He has proved to me over and over again). Of course it's easy for me to say this in conversation: "Oh yes, I know it's all in God's plan"... but to really internalize that in my heart and bring myself to trust some unknown plan wholeheartedly -- especially when what happens is God's way and not what I had planned? Pshaw.
Worrying, as I've been reminded again and again, is useless (one of the most convicting quotes is from Matthew 6). Here's some of the definitions I found on "worry":
- To feel uneasy or concerned about something; be troubled. See Synonyms at brood.
- To pull or tear at something with or as if with the teeth.
- To proceed doggedly in the face of difficulty or hardship; struggle: worried along at the problem.
- persistent mental uneasiness
Check out the history of this word:
"Worrying may shorten one's life, but not as quickly as it once did. The ancestor of our word, Old English wyrgan, meant “to strangle.” Its Middle English descendant, worien, kept this sense and developed the new sense “to grasp by the throat with the teeth and lacerate” or “to kill or injure by biting and shaking.” This is the way wolves or dogs might attack sheep, for example. In the 16th century worry began to be used in the sense “to harass, as by rough treatment or attack,” or “to assault verbally,” and in the 17th century the word took on the sense “to bother, distress, or persecute.” It was a small step from this sense to the main modern senses “to cause to feel anxious or distressed” and “to feel troubled or uneasy,” first recorded in the 19th century."
Whoa, some stuff to think about.... worrying is derived from the word "to strangle"?? It brings a whole new perspective on this word/action. Yeah, if I had a list of things I'd like to change about myself, I'd say that I'd like to worry less.
Matthew 6:25-34
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[1] ? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, `What shall we eat?' or `What shall we drink?' or `What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
I hate waiting. Last night at the BNL concert, I was yelling at the other cars in the parking lot, becoming irate when, after 10 minutes, we still hadn't moved an inch. Right now I'm in agony because I was supposed to hear from the Public Allies people whether I was placed at an agency YESTERDAY and they still haven't called me back. I think impatience also stems from my inherent need to plan/organize/schedule every aspect of my life... which of course, is an impossible feat. Think about it: why do you need to wait around if everything is scheduled for you?
Could it be that my "gift/talent/knack" for planning is also a curse?? I guess what this really proves is that I lack faith -- more specifically, faith in God's good plan for me and for his providence in my life (which He has proved to me over and over again). Of course it's easy for me to say this in conversation: "Oh yes, I know it's all in God's plan"... but to really internalize that in my heart and bring myself to trust some unknown plan wholeheartedly -- especially when what happens is God's way and not what I had planned? Pshaw.
Worrying, as I've been reminded again and again, is useless (one of the most convicting quotes is from Matthew 6). Here's some of the definitions I found on "worry":
- To feel uneasy or concerned about something; be troubled. See Synonyms at brood.
- To pull or tear at something with or as if with the teeth.
- To proceed doggedly in the face of difficulty or hardship; struggle: worried along at the problem.
- persistent mental uneasiness
Check out the history of this word:
"Worrying may shorten one's life, but not as quickly as it once did. The ancestor of our word, Old English wyrgan, meant “to strangle.” Its Middle English descendant, worien, kept this sense and developed the new sense “to grasp by the throat with the teeth and lacerate” or “to kill or injure by biting and shaking.” This is the way wolves or dogs might attack sheep, for example. In the 16th century worry began to be used in the sense “to harass, as by rough treatment or attack,” or “to assault verbally,” and in the 17th century the word took on the sense “to bother, distress, or persecute.” It was a small step from this sense to the main modern senses “to cause to feel anxious or distressed” and “to feel troubled or uneasy,” first recorded in the 19th century."
Whoa, some stuff to think about.... worrying is derived from the word "to strangle"?? It brings a whole new perspective on this word/action. Yeah, if I had a list of things I'd like to change about myself, I'd say that I'd like to worry less.
Matthew 6:25-34
"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life[1] ? "And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, `What shall we eat?' or `What shall we drink?' or `What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
8/16/2001
"diversity" part 2
Have you ever noticed how white people always try to relate to the "struggle"?? Friday after work I went out for drinks with my co-workers to send off two of our fellow admin slave who were laid off. I ended up sitting next to one of the people (a filipino guy, i think) who got laid off and sitting across from one of my fairer-skinned co-workers. We were just chatting about music and "white girl" (as I will now call her), mentioned going to an Erykah Badu concert and how it was most a "black" crowd (note: white girl whispered the word "black" during the entire conversation) and that the women there kept loudly talking about how white women were trophies for black men, etc. I was like, whoa.... Then she started going into the fact that her mom only dated black men and I guess married one or something. She also lived in Milwaukee, WI, which apparently has a big "black" population. According to "white girl" almost all of her friends were "black" when she was growing up. Um, alright.
So while we're sitting here, I'm wondering why she brought this all up and although I'm enjoying speaking to her about her diverse circle of friends/acquaintances, I have a funny feeling that this conversation was brought out due to the fact that she was sitting with two "colored" people (note: said in a whisper).
I've been struggling to try to fit this interaction into a "that's racist!!" moment or a "wow, she's down with the people!" attitude. However I can't. I give her props for her experiences (she was also in an Americorps program at an inner city YMCA) and I honestly enjoyed talking to her about other things besides lay-offs and our evil bosses. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel very "ethnic," as if "the minorities" been singled out for this conversation topic. If my laid-off co-worker and I had been white, would the same type of conversation have taken place? I don't know. It's a fine line we walk between being over-sensitive about ethnicity and being aware of our differences and speaking boldly about them. Hm, more thoughts later.
Have you ever noticed how white people always try to relate to the "struggle"?? Friday after work I went out for drinks with my co-workers to send off two of our fellow admin slave who were laid off. I ended up sitting next to one of the people (a filipino guy, i think) who got laid off and sitting across from one of my fairer-skinned co-workers. We were just chatting about music and "white girl" (as I will now call her), mentioned going to an Erykah Badu concert and how it was most a "black" crowd (note: white girl whispered the word "black" during the entire conversation) and that the women there kept loudly talking about how white women were trophies for black men, etc. I was like, whoa.... Then she started going into the fact that her mom only dated black men and I guess married one or something. She also lived in Milwaukee, WI, which apparently has a big "black" population. According to "white girl" almost all of her friends were "black" when she was growing up. Um, alright.
So while we're sitting here, I'm wondering why she brought this all up and although I'm enjoying speaking to her about her diverse circle of friends/acquaintances, I have a funny feeling that this conversation was brought out due to the fact that she was sitting with two "colored" people (note: said in a whisper).
I've been struggling to try to fit this interaction into a "that's racist!!" moment or a "wow, she's down with the people!" attitude. However I can't. I give her props for her experiences (she was also in an Americorps program at an inner city YMCA) and I honestly enjoyed talking to her about other things besides lay-offs and our evil bosses. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel very "ethnic," as if "the minorities" been singled out for this conversation topic. If my laid-off co-worker and I had been white, would the same type of conversation have taken place? I don't know. It's a fine line we walk between being over-sensitive about ethnicity and being aware of our differences and speaking boldly about them. Hm, more thoughts later.
8/15/2001
"diversity"
On saturday I was in my apartment eating lunch when I heard these loud booming sounds. I live in an area where it's not unusual to hear cars drive by at all hours blasting their car stereos, sub-woofers at full volume. So I figured it was some punk kid wanting to show off for his neighbors (because you know how impressed we are with big... car stereos). The booming continued, though and so I peeked out my window to see a pick-up truck with a drum and a huge gong-like thing on it's flatbed and people pounding away at these instruments. Then I remembered - the festival in J-town! There were actually two trucks with percussion instruments and about 15 people on the sidewalks all dressed in similar clothes, escorting two "dragons" (people wearing those dragon heads you see at chinatown parades) down the street, on their way to Japantown. They'd stop at shops along my street and dance in front of the windows, sometimes going inside and riling up the customers. Anyway, it was quite a site. I opened up my bay window, sat down, and took in the show.
Later that day, I drove down to the south bay to see minsoo. As always, 19th avenue was bumper-to-bumper. Eventually I ended up driving behind a bunch of motorcycles. There were about 7 motorcycles and it seemed like they were all following one person at the front (a hog tour? I dunno). Since it was stop-and-go all the way from about sloat to sfsu, I had plenty of time to check out the hog brigade. One thing I thought was cool was that a woman was heading up the pack. I thought, wow, that's cool, she looks tough (as i only saw her from behind). She was really "thick" (not round... thick) and had this big blond hair that she tied at the nape of her neck. Anyway, as we started to get onto the 280, I sped up and had an opportunity to check out this crowd in action. It was then that I noticed -- the leader of the pack was a guy!!! AND the "blond hair" was really a dead racoon that he was wearing on his head - Davy Crockett-style!!
Yes indeed, it's all about diversity.
On saturday I was in my apartment eating lunch when I heard these loud booming sounds. I live in an area where it's not unusual to hear cars drive by at all hours blasting their car stereos, sub-woofers at full volume. So I figured it was some punk kid wanting to show off for his neighbors (because you know how impressed we are with big... car stereos). The booming continued, though and so I peeked out my window to see a pick-up truck with a drum and a huge gong-like thing on it's flatbed and people pounding away at these instruments. Then I remembered - the festival in J-town! There were actually two trucks with percussion instruments and about 15 people on the sidewalks all dressed in similar clothes, escorting two "dragons" (people wearing those dragon heads you see at chinatown parades) down the street, on their way to Japantown. They'd stop at shops along my street and dance in front of the windows, sometimes going inside and riling up the customers. Anyway, it was quite a site. I opened up my bay window, sat down, and took in the show.
Later that day, I drove down to the south bay to see minsoo. As always, 19th avenue was bumper-to-bumper. Eventually I ended up driving behind a bunch of motorcycles. There were about 7 motorcycles and it seemed like they were all following one person at the front (a hog tour? I dunno). Since it was stop-and-go all the way from about sloat to sfsu, I had plenty of time to check out the hog brigade. One thing I thought was cool was that a woman was heading up the pack. I thought, wow, that's cool, she looks tough (as i only saw her from behind). She was really "thick" (not round... thick) and had this big blond hair that she tied at the nape of her neck. Anyway, as we started to get onto the 280, I sped up and had an opportunity to check out this crowd in action. It was then that I noticed -- the leader of the pack was a guy!!! AND the "blond hair" was really a dead racoon that he was wearing on his head - Davy Crockett-style!!
Yes indeed, it's all about diversity.
8/10/2001
"ding dong, you're in hong kong" - from "grand avenue" in Flower Drum Song the musical
on tuesday, my parents and i met with a family friend and the pastor of the church where my grandfather's memorial service is going to be held (my grandfather was a pastor at the church eons ago). we met up in this small chinese restaurant in chinatown around grand ave and waverly. anyway, while we were sitting there, i notice a tall guy walking around. now, i must preface this description with some details about the restaurant: it was a dingy place, below ground with low ceilings and had tons of shorter chinese people eating chow fun and chow mein for lunch. so to see a person who was over 5'7" was unusual. so i glance over and then do a double take. this guy - a CHINESE guy - has this jeri-curl long hair not unlike Robbie Hart, Adam Sandler's character from "The Wedding Singer." On top of that, has a leather jacket slung over his shoulder and is sporting a white t-shirt and black jeans, also not unlike another pop culture icon - the fonz.
so on tuesday afternoon, i saw the chinese version of a cross between the wedding singer and the fonz. this observation pails in comparison with all the stereotypical kitschy junk that i found in those touristy stores around c-town.
oh, one more story about chinese junk...
my dad and i were waiting in a long line of cars to get into the portsmouth garage in chinatown when i saw and overheard an interaction between two large groups of white people passing by each other on the sidewalk next to our idling car. one of the guys stops another one in the other group and asks him "hey, where'd you get that from??" - he was pointing to a backscratcher. Oh dude. Any person who knows of or has been to a chinatown or asian area in the united states should know that the backscratcher is the EPITOME of chinese/asian kitsch. The guy answers back "You can get them in a lot of stores up there" and points. Duh.
on tuesday, my parents and i met with a family friend and the pastor of the church where my grandfather's memorial service is going to be held (my grandfather was a pastor at the church eons ago). we met up in this small chinese restaurant in chinatown around grand ave and waverly. anyway, while we were sitting there, i notice a tall guy walking around. now, i must preface this description with some details about the restaurant: it was a dingy place, below ground with low ceilings and had tons of shorter chinese people eating chow fun and chow mein for lunch. so to see a person who was over 5'7" was unusual. so i glance over and then do a double take. this guy - a CHINESE guy - has this jeri-curl long hair not unlike Robbie Hart, Adam Sandler's character from "The Wedding Singer." On top of that, has a leather jacket slung over his shoulder and is sporting a white t-shirt and black jeans, also not unlike another pop culture icon - the fonz.
so on tuesday afternoon, i saw the chinese version of a cross between the wedding singer and the fonz. this observation pails in comparison with all the stereotypical kitschy junk that i found in those touristy stores around c-town.
oh, one more story about chinese junk...
my dad and i were waiting in a long line of cars to get into the portsmouth garage in chinatown when i saw and overheard an interaction between two large groups of white people passing by each other on the sidewalk next to our idling car. one of the guys stops another one in the other group and asks him "hey, where'd you get that from??" - he was pointing to a backscratcher. Oh dude. Any person who knows of or has been to a chinatown or asian area in the united states should know that the backscratcher is the EPITOME of chinese/asian kitsch. The guy answers back "You can get them in a lot of stores up there" and points. Duh.
8/09/2001
chinese adventures
i arrived at my uncle's house on sunday night, ready to say hello to my parents (who had driven up from LA) and then go to sleep. unfortunately, i forgot that my cousin and her kids were also visiting from boston. so when i arrived, my smaller cousins and second cousins sat me down and proceeded to show me the "merchandise" from the store they set up to extort money from their relatives. i was forced to choose between the multicolored, handmade friendship bracelets (wrapped in sets of two, reasonably priced at 1, 5 and 10 cents per pair) and buying raffle tickets, which would give me the chance to win - surprise! - a friendship bracelet. After haggling with the young entrepreneurs, I gave up and bought 5 raffle tickets. I didn't have a nickel handy, so they generously gave me IOU slips.
I finally escaped my little cousins after they tried to show me their sketchy comic books (my older cousin warned me about them, but luckily i was spared) and got to spend a little time with the "adults." It's funny how now I'm one of the "older" kids in the family even though I remember not too long ago, I was making my cousins give me piggyback rides and monopolizing their time with my endless games and antics.
Monday night, I went out to dinner with my family and minsoo. We went to my 3rd grand aunt and uncle's house and then met up with 6 more of my relatives. When we arrived at the restaurant jess (my sister), minsoo and i were shocked to find that all of our relatives were over the age of 60. sitting at the table in all their cantonese glory were my 7th grand uncle and aunt and my mom's two cousins and their spouses - add another older couple (my grand aunt and uncle, whom we arrived with) and the three of us young'uns were pretty taken aback. the combination of their age and the fact that they all spoke loud and all at once, amused the three of us. one of my mom's cousins had this crazy hair that looked like a wave crashing over his head - he was minsoo's favorite. i personally favored my 7th grand-uncle, who looked like he could have been a very good looking guy in his day... he just seemed like a nice old man. anyway, the dinner was really good (mostly seafood dishes) and the old cantonese-speaking relatives were a riot. even though i don't really speak cantonese, i think i understand a whole lot more than i thought. another amusing part of the evening was when my mom went up to the front to pay the bill. when the relatives found out about this, they yelled and pointed and were annoyed at my mother's slickness. eventually my 3rd grand aunt stuffed bills in my mom's purse and my mom relented. i think they had it all planned out before we went out to dinner. at the end of the night, as we were driving out of the parking lot, i glanced back and saw my other elderly relatives were walking back between their cars and wads of bills being exchanged. my relatives are funny.
i'll post more stories later... this post is really long.
i arrived at my uncle's house on sunday night, ready to say hello to my parents (who had driven up from LA) and then go to sleep. unfortunately, i forgot that my cousin and her kids were also visiting from boston. so when i arrived, my smaller cousins and second cousins sat me down and proceeded to show me the "merchandise" from the store they set up to extort money from their relatives. i was forced to choose between the multicolored, handmade friendship bracelets (wrapped in sets of two, reasonably priced at 1, 5 and 10 cents per pair) and buying raffle tickets, which would give me the chance to win - surprise! - a friendship bracelet. After haggling with the young entrepreneurs, I gave up and bought 5 raffle tickets. I didn't have a nickel handy, so they generously gave me IOU slips.
I finally escaped my little cousins after they tried to show me their sketchy comic books (my older cousin warned me about them, but luckily i was spared) and got to spend a little time with the "adults." It's funny how now I'm one of the "older" kids in the family even though I remember not too long ago, I was making my cousins give me piggyback rides and monopolizing their time with my endless games and antics.
Monday night, I went out to dinner with my family and minsoo. We went to my 3rd grand aunt and uncle's house and then met up with 6 more of my relatives. When we arrived at the restaurant jess (my sister), minsoo and i were shocked to find that all of our relatives were over the age of 60. sitting at the table in all their cantonese glory were my 7th grand uncle and aunt and my mom's two cousins and their spouses - add another older couple (my grand aunt and uncle, whom we arrived with) and the three of us young'uns were pretty taken aback. the combination of their age and the fact that they all spoke loud and all at once, amused the three of us. one of my mom's cousins had this crazy hair that looked like a wave crashing over his head - he was minsoo's favorite. i personally favored my 7th grand-uncle, who looked like he could have been a very good looking guy in his day... he just seemed like a nice old man. anyway, the dinner was really good (mostly seafood dishes) and the old cantonese-speaking relatives were a riot. even though i don't really speak cantonese, i think i understand a whole lot more than i thought. another amusing part of the evening was when my mom went up to the front to pay the bill. when the relatives found out about this, they yelled and pointed and were annoyed at my mother's slickness. eventually my 3rd grand aunt stuffed bills in my mom's purse and my mom relented. i think they had it all planned out before we went out to dinner. at the end of the night, as we were driving out of the parking lot, i glanced back and saw my other elderly relatives were walking back between their cars and wads of bills being exchanged. my relatives are funny.
i'll post more stories later... this post is really long.
happy birthday dad!
today is my dad's birthday. he's kinda old. it's hard to remember when his birthday is because he's got so many. sometimes we celebrate it on his "american" birthday - which is july 4 (how fitting) and other times we do it on august 9, his other birthday. i've decided that i'd rather celebrate it in august since there's really nothing else going on in august other than the summer heat.
so anyway, happy birthday dad. i'm sure he doesn't even read this since i just started this weblog and no one reads it but me anyway.
today is my dad's birthday. he's kinda old. it's hard to remember when his birthday is because he's got so many. sometimes we celebrate it on his "american" birthday - which is july 4 (how fitting) and other times we do it on august 9, his other birthday. i've decided that i'd rather celebrate it in august since there's really nothing else going on in august other than the summer heat.
so anyway, happy birthday dad. i'm sure he doesn't even read this since i just started this weblog and no one reads it but me anyway.
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