While in the Philippines when I was in 6th grade, we stayed at my Dad's sister's house in Cavite. They run a shop outside the front, selling random things from batteries to sodas (kind of like a mini 7-11 if you will). While having dinner, their worker girl whatever (indentured servant is not the correct term because indentured servants is what rich people have; this girl works at the store to earn money for her family) came and handed us sodas from their refrigerator in the shop. My mom said to pay for them, but the girl said no it's on the house. My mom was upset for all of us accepting the free sodas, saying it's a "shame".
It's her sense of modesty and humility which I have inherited from her.
Ben moved out of the condo last Saturday. He got a big U-Haul, recruited his parents and two brothers, and in half a day they hauled away almost everything. In the past few days, he has been picking up random things he's left behind. It's nothing huge, just a bag of clothes, some board games, whatever. He's in total cruise control at this point.
I started my moveout last Friday, and have been pecking away at it for the past 8 days. For 4 of those days, I've been borrowing my dad's truck and shipping stuff to either Dre's living room, or to my parent's garage. I've been putting stuff in boxes, putting those boxes in the truck, driving them over, then driving back. I do a little a time after work each day.
Sure we have the same amount of "stuff", but Ben went all in on one day and did it with help. I decided to do everything myself and take multiple days.
I'm not comfortable asking for help. I wouldn't call it a "shame". I just don't like the idea of owing people things. Sure, people offer help all the time. But then I feel bad for being a burden.
You're reading this and you're probably thinking "who says it's a burden? we're your friends, we want to help". Or you could be thinking "do you consider us a burden when we ask you for help?"
A conversation with Lan revealed that I value selflessness in myself, but not in others. Selfish selflessness. As in, I always welcome when people ask me to help them, but I rarely ask others for help. There's no real good way to justify why I'm like that; I just am. So no, I don't see others being a burden when they ask for help. And yes, I do always try to do things myself as to not inconvenience others.
However, I am proud of the work I've been getting done this past week. Friday night, instead of going out and partying with my friends -_- I was hauling things around my parent's garage. I had no choice but to put most of my back into it because of the cramped spaces I was putting things into. I was completely sore when I got back to the condo, so I just showered and played around all night. It felt good though, like I had a serious workout, and I had put in a hard days work.
Saturday, it was very quiet and slow. I calmly packed things into the truck, drove them to my parent's house, hung out with my cousin Sharon as she told me about her housing search, and I drove back to the condo.
The thing is, now it's very quiet, everyone is out for Saturday night, and I'm bored out of my mind. I decided to spackle the holes in the walls, and to re-caulk the loose shower knobs in my bathroom. I know that our landlord Nancy won't ever know the amount of detail I am putting into improving the condo, knowing full well that it's rare for tenants to actually give a damn, and everyone else usually leaves it half assed. Not me. I love blue collar housework.
When I move into my house, I am going to do most of the repairs myself, because that's what a real man does.
And when I fall off the ladder, then I'll think about asking someone for help driving me to Kaiser.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Sexy beats and sexier lyrics
So I'm not drunk per-se, I'm just really high. Not on PCP or any narcotics, I've just been taking in a lot of sugar because my body is completely sore from walking downtown this afternoon + moving furniture all night. I thought of going out to either the Padre game to drink with my co-workers, or to Convoy to drink with my future neighbors, but after cutting escrow checks for the past week, it makes you realize how expensive buying a house is.
Music is fortunately one of our more frugal endeavors, and to an audiophile such as I, I love the hip hop and rap landscape. People who know me know that I love music. Particularly, I love hip hop and rap, for similar reasons.
1. Beats
I love a good beat. (that's what he said!)
E.T. with Kanye West and Katy Perry has my favorite beat on the radio today. You hear the drums come in with a thunderous BOOM BOOM CLAP. I think it's an 808 drum, and it has a techno beat laid underneath it. And then when the hook drops, it becomes EPIC. All I Do Is Win is meant to get you up out of your chair as the beat raises every time Khaled yells WIN! It fluctuates up and down with each word, so you're constantly moving your hands up and down, which is the point. It's a great blood plumping song. Black and Yellow is all about that beat, where it drops as soon as he says UH HUH! YEAH!
2. Lyrics
Rap music is poetry. There's no argument about it; rappers have legitimate claims to being masters of metaphors. Eminem proved this during Not Afraid. Everybody come take my hand, we'll walk this road together, whatever weather, go to war. You can tell he wrote this song knowing full well that he's moving from "everyone bow down to me" to "everyone come with me". A guy who is completely appreciative of life and everyone around him. He laces the song with metaphors too: lift the whole liquor counter up because I'm raising the bar? Nice one! Treat this roof like my daughters and raise it? Lol. Rihanna pushes the envelope with S&M when she let's out I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it. The clever irony of that sentence makes you appreciate songwriting. My personal favorite is Ne-Yo in Knock You Down, being commander in chief of my pimp ship flying high, until this pretty little missle shot me out the sky.
3. Flow
So you got the beat, and you got the lyrics. But you have to flow, i.e. the ability to deliver those words HOT. Let's take No Hands, with the hook done by Wale. How smooth is that when he says girrrrllllll, drop it to the floorrrrrr, i love the way your booty gooooooo? Usually you have your best flower come in for the hooks. You know how Dev is popular? Listen to her deliver any hook. You can hear how sexy it is when she asks to be your backseat driver in Back Seat. Ask anyone what their favorite part of Rocketeer is, and they tell you it's when Ryan Tedder says it's with youuuu right heeere i'm a rockkettteeeeer. Nicki Minaj flows it so hard at the beginning of Moment 4 Life, but then the hook comes out like silk where you're in your car repeating "for life.... for life.... for life...".
This isn't limited to just hip hop and rap. Some of my favorite classic rock songs from Queen have the "karaokeability" factor, to where you can combine your friends + alcohol + korean karaoke machines for some unforgettable nights.
Either way, keep those radios turned up, because I have a feeling the music industry is hearing us, and is putting out hit after hit after hit.
Even you, Rebecca Black :D
Music is fortunately one of our more frugal endeavors, and to an audiophile such as I, I love the hip hop and rap landscape. People who know me know that I love music. Particularly, I love hip hop and rap, for similar reasons.
1. Beats
I love a good beat. (that's what he said!)
E.T. with Kanye West and Katy Perry has my favorite beat on the radio today. You hear the drums come in with a thunderous BOOM BOOM CLAP. I think it's an 808 drum, and it has a techno beat laid underneath it. And then when the hook drops, it becomes EPIC. All I Do Is Win is meant to get you up out of your chair as the beat raises every time Khaled yells WIN! It fluctuates up and down with each word, so you're constantly moving your hands up and down, which is the point. It's a great blood plumping song. Black and Yellow is all about that beat, where it drops as soon as he says UH HUH! YEAH!
2. Lyrics
Rap music is poetry. There's no argument about it; rappers have legitimate claims to being masters of metaphors. Eminem proved this during Not Afraid. Everybody come take my hand, we'll walk this road together, whatever weather, go to war. You can tell he wrote this song knowing full well that he's moving from "everyone bow down to me" to "everyone come with me". A guy who is completely appreciative of life and everyone around him. He laces the song with metaphors too: lift the whole liquor counter up because I'm raising the bar? Nice one! Treat this roof like my daughters and raise it? Lol. Rihanna pushes the envelope with S&M when she let's out I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it. The clever irony of that sentence makes you appreciate songwriting. My personal favorite is Ne-Yo in Knock You Down, being commander in chief of my pimp ship flying high, until this pretty little missle shot me out the sky.
3. Flow
So you got the beat, and you got the lyrics. But you have to flow, i.e. the ability to deliver those words HOT. Let's take No Hands, with the hook done by Wale. How smooth is that when he says girrrrllllll, drop it to the floorrrrrr, i love the way your booty gooooooo? Usually you have your best flower come in for the hooks. You know how Dev is popular? Listen to her deliver any hook. You can hear how sexy it is when she asks to be your backseat driver in Back Seat. Ask anyone what their favorite part of Rocketeer is, and they tell you it's when Ryan Tedder says it's with youuuu right heeere i'm a rockkettteeeeer. Nicki Minaj flows it so hard at the beginning of Moment 4 Life, but then the hook comes out like silk where you're in your car repeating "for life.... for life.... for life...".
This isn't limited to just hip hop and rap. Some of my favorite classic rock songs from Queen have the "karaokeability" factor, to where you can combine your friends + alcohol + korean karaoke machines for some unforgettable nights.
Either way, keep those radios turned up, because I have a feeling the music industry is hearing us, and is putting out hit after hit after hit.
Even you, Rebecca Black :D
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Softerball
Softball season started last week at work.
I love sports. I don't think you understand how testosterone-driven I am when it comes to sports. Seeing as baseball is one of my favorite sports to watch, I can't help but get excited for this season, especially since I had a fun time last year.
The problem I had with softball last year is the same problem I had with girls in high school. I would step up to the plate and strike out.
Our first game was last week, and we.... tied. 16-16.
My first at bat, I was nervous. Like, really. I had practiced with Jeff the night before at the batting cages, and I was remembering everything I did, such as getting a much lower stance, and swinging slower and more controlled. My head would process this, and by the time I decided if I wanted to swing or not, the ball would pass me by.
The ball would pass me by for a ball.
In fact, that ball would pass me again as a ball. And another. And another! The guy walked me!
My teammates behind me knocked me in and I scored my first run of the season.
Second at bat: same thing! The guy was struggling with his control, and walked me. I didn't get to score due to some good catches by their defense, but whatever. I had gotten on base twice without swinging the bat once.
Third at bat: I got greedy. I really wanted to swing my bat. I bought this bat for $30 at Sport Chalet, so I'm going to use it. The first pitch that came in, I swung for those fences.
It popped softly back to the catcher, who turned around to try to catch it. Everyone looked and held their breath; the ball luckily landed behind her.
That was enough excitement for me, I'll just wait for this guy to walk me again.
I stood there, watching the ball leave his hand, float through the air, and cross the plate for a strike. The umpire rings me up, and the inning is over.
-_-
I had a decision to make after: do I go home and pack, or do I join the team for a celebratory happy hour?
The pros of going home:
- Save cash
- Be productive
The pros of going to happy hour:
- Getting to meet and learn more about new people
If there's one thing in life that I would urge young people to do, it's that when you have the chance, learn how to socialize with others. Practice makes perfect, and perfect will net you cool friends down the road.
P.S. Brigantine has a pretty good house brew called Brigantine Beer.
I love sports. I don't think you understand how testosterone-driven I am when it comes to sports. Seeing as baseball is one of my favorite sports to watch, I can't help but get excited for this season, especially since I had a fun time last year.
The problem I had with softball last year is the same problem I had with girls in high school. I would step up to the plate and strike out.
Our first game was last week, and we.... tied. 16-16.
My first at bat, I was nervous. Like, really. I had practiced with Jeff the night before at the batting cages, and I was remembering everything I did, such as getting a much lower stance, and swinging slower and more controlled. My head would process this, and by the time I decided if I wanted to swing or not, the ball would pass me by.
The ball would pass me by for a ball.
In fact, that ball would pass me again as a ball. And another. And another! The guy walked me!
My teammates behind me knocked me in and I scored my first run of the season.
Second at bat: same thing! The guy was struggling with his control, and walked me. I didn't get to score due to some good catches by their defense, but whatever. I had gotten on base twice without swinging the bat once.
Third at bat: I got greedy. I really wanted to swing my bat. I bought this bat for $30 at Sport Chalet, so I'm going to use it. The first pitch that came in, I swung for those fences.
It popped softly back to the catcher, who turned around to try to catch it. Everyone looked and held their breath; the ball luckily landed behind her.
That was enough excitement for me, I'll just wait for this guy to walk me again.
I stood there, watching the ball leave his hand, float through the air, and cross the plate for a strike. The umpire rings me up, and the inning is over.
-_-
I had a decision to make after: do I go home and pack, or do I join the team for a celebratory happy hour?
The pros of going home:
- Save cash
- Be productive
The pros of going to happy hour:
- Getting to meet and learn more about new people
If there's one thing in life that I would urge young people to do, it's that when you have the chance, learn how to socialize with others. Practice makes perfect, and perfect will net you cool friends down the road.
P.S. Brigantine has a pretty good house brew called Brigantine Beer.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Great Expectations
I am less than two weeks away from leaving southside and joining the dirty northsiders in Mira Mesa. My area code would become 858.
I was looking forward to this day; I really was. April 29th was going to be with my parents, my girlfriend, and my realtor, all around me, watching as I sign the escrow papers and get handed the keys. My realtor Marc said he would bring the champagne to celebrate as the ink dried on the sheet.
Unfortunately, my expecations will be dashed. I won't have anyone around me when I sign. Due to my house being a short sale, I will have to sign the papers at least a week in advance. I'd have to use my free time to go by myself, and sign the papers. No fanfare, no clapping, no encouragement. Just myself and an escrow officer. Maybe a handshake.
The keys aren't going to be handed to me after I sign. I have to wait for funding to be put through, and then my name added as owner of record of the house. That process takes at least a few days. After that, my own realtor will give me the keys.
There is a life lesson in this, I'm sure. Maybe this means the housewarming will be amazingly epic.
I'll buy a hookah lamp.
I was looking forward to this day; I really was. April 29th was going to be with my parents, my girlfriend, and my realtor, all around me, watching as I sign the escrow papers and get handed the keys. My realtor Marc said he would bring the champagne to celebrate as the ink dried on the sheet.
Unfortunately, my expecations will be dashed. I won't have anyone around me when I sign. Due to my house being a short sale, I will have to sign the papers at least a week in advance. I'd have to use my free time to go by myself, and sign the papers. No fanfare, no clapping, no encouragement. Just myself and an escrow officer. Maybe a handshake.
The keys aren't going to be handed to me after I sign. I have to wait for funding to be put through, and then my name added as owner of record of the house. That process takes at least a few days. After that, my own realtor will give me the keys.
There is a life lesson in this, I'm sure. Maybe this means the housewarming will be amazingly epic.
I'll buy a hookah lamp.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
What a girl wants
I can't sleep, so I'm going to write myself into sleeping.
If there's one thing I have learned being with Trang, it's that when women want a man, they don't want physical strength, they want mental strength. It's the maturity that they crave.
There are times when she points out to me things that are supposed to be common sense, yet it's impossible to learn until you go through it once. You can be told the right way to act or the right way to do something, but it's the hands on experience which get you there.
The majority of my friends are all younger than me, and it's a role that I embrace. I like being an older leader, and putting the responsibility upon me to be a "guide" so to speak. Yet every day, I learn from either Trang, or someone else, what it takes to be mentally mature and strong. And like I said, the best way to do those things is to do those things the wrong way first, so you know exactly what not to do.
I'm not referring to specific examples, I'm just thinking right now what I'm about to embark upon in the next few weeks. I'm about to buy a house. Seriously, a house. We're talking about a home. I'm looking at my room which is getting emptier and emptier by the day, and I'm amazed as to what I'm about to get into.
I'm not supposed to be scared of this. It's supposed to be exciting. A younger, non mature man, would be afraid to take on the responsibility, the commitment, the role of being a homeowner. And I sit here dumbfounded, because the day is getting closer and closer and I can't believe I'm about to do this.
I have a problem of pessimistic foreshadowing. One of my immature flaws is that if I desire something so much and want it so bad, I eventually lose it, and it comes crashing down, and I sit there holding the pieces and wonder what I did wrong. Hell, take into account any of my exes. Not one of them complained that I didn't love them enough. They all said that I am a very loving person and have a great heart. But it's just that overbearing amount of love which made them nervous that they couldn't return it. No, really, all of them had said the same thing to me, in a different way.
But how do you live life not loving something as much as you can? Are you not supposed to go 100% all-out? I thought life was about embracing your experience, grasping the present, and making the most out of it.
My house is 17 days away and I'm sitting here wondering if I'm going to jinx myself and fall in love with the idea of having a house. Will escrow fail? Will the gift letter check get caught by the underwriter (I'll explain what that means in a future blog)? Will the short sale bank reject the request for repair form?
Trang reassured me that I don't need to be afraid of these things. Just know that I'm buying a house, something that hardly anyone has ever done, at my age, at this point of my life.
It's just an example of someone younger than me, pointing out how to be mentally mature.
If embracing the present is the first way of life, learning from your peers is the second.
If there's one thing I have learned being with Trang, it's that when women want a man, they don't want physical strength, they want mental strength. It's the maturity that they crave.
There are times when she points out to me things that are supposed to be common sense, yet it's impossible to learn until you go through it once. You can be told the right way to act or the right way to do something, but it's the hands on experience which get you there.
The majority of my friends are all younger than me, and it's a role that I embrace. I like being an older leader, and putting the responsibility upon me to be a "guide" so to speak. Yet every day, I learn from either Trang, or someone else, what it takes to be mentally mature and strong. And like I said, the best way to do those things is to do those things the wrong way first, so you know exactly what not to do.
I'm not referring to specific examples, I'm just thinking right now what I'm about to embark upon in the next few weeks. I'm about to buy a house. Seriously, a house. We're talking about a home. I'm looking at my room which is getting emptier and emptier by the day, and I'm amazed as to what I'm about to get into.
I'm not supposed to be scared of this. It's supposed to be exciting. A younger, non mature man, would be afraid to take on the responsibility, the commitment, the role of being a homeowner. And I sit here dumbfounded, because the day is getting closer and closer and I can't believe I'm about to do this.
I have a problem of pessimistic foreshadowing. One of my immature flaws is that if I desire something so much and want it so bad, I eventually lose it, and it comes crashing down, and I sit there holding the pieces and wonder what I did wrong. Hell, take into account any of my exes. Not one of them complained that I didn't love them enough. They all said that I am a very loving person and have a great heart. But it's just that overbearing amount of love which made them nervous that they couldn't return it. No, really, all of them had said the same thing to me, in a different way.
But how do you live life not loving something as much as you can? Are you not supposed to go 100% all-out? I thought life was about embracing your experience, grasping the present, and making the most out of it.
My house is 17 days away and I'm sitting here wondering if I'm going to jinx myself and fall in love with the idea of having a house. Will escrow fail? Will the gift letter check get caught by the underwriter (I'll explain what that means in a future blog)? Will the short sale bank reject the request for repair form?
Trang reassured me that I don't need to be afraid of these things. Just know that I'm buying a house, something that hardly anyone has ever done, at my age, at this point of my life.
It's just an example of someone younger than me, pointing out how to be mentally mature.
If embracing the present is the first way of life, learning from your peers is the second.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Rain? Preposterous!
At the Padres and Dodgers game yesterday, Jeff and I went out around 4pm to watch batting practice. Jeff actually managed to catch a ball thrown from Orlando Hudson into the stands.
Afterward, I caught a t-shirt from the Pad Squad. It's a blue SD shirt that says Padres on the back. You won't believe how many times I've tried to catch a shirt from them.
During the middle of the game, Jeff and I made it onto the big screen. I was waving my towel, and the cameras put us up there. I had no idea what to do so I started jumping up and down like a maniac.
I was hungry so I bought beer and nachos to eat; which I've never had at Petco Park before. Bud Light tastes like crap, but dem nachos be delicious, especially with jalapenos.
It was the most "productive" time I've had in a single day at a Padre game.
Ignore the fact that the game was rained out and suspended after 6 innings, so we didn't even get to see how the game finished (they continue the game on Saturday night).
It makes you realize what you go to the park for. You don't go to watch the game; you can do that on TV any day you want. You go because you want to do all the park-related stuff like drink beer, eat nachos, catch baseballs, win t-shirts, and defend your team from enemy fans.
Welcome back, baseball season!
Afterward, I caught a t-shirt from the Pad Squad. It's a blue SD shirt that says Padres on the back. You won't believe how many times I've tried to catch a shirt from them.
During the middle of the game, Jeff and I made it onto the big screen. I was waving my towel, and the cameras put us up there. I had no idea what to do so I started jumping up and down like a maniac.
I was hungry so I bought beer and nachos to eat; which I've never had at Petco Park before. Bud Light tastes like crap, but dem nachos be delicious, especially with jalapenos.
It was the most "productive" time I've had in a single day at a Padre game.
Ignore the fact that the game was rained out and suspended after 6 innings, so we didn't even get to see how the game finished (they continue the game on Saturday night).
It makes you realize what you go to the park for. You don't go to watch the game; you can do that on TV any day you want. You go because you want to do all the park-related stuff like drink beer, eat nachos, catch baseballs, win t-shirts, and defend your team from enemy fans.
Welcome back, baseball season!
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