Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The world will end on January 31, 2873


The gods in heaven and hell were up to mischief on this, the last day of January 2007. Today will go down in history as the day when D.C. Metro police learned to use that newfangled telephone, Boston embarrassed itself in front of the nation, and Flipper became an enemy of the state. From this day forward, January 31 will never be the same for me. Or for the country.

Here is how the day unfolded:

3 a.m. -- Suspicious packages found at Braddock Road station in Alexandria, Virginia.

3:14 a.m. -- Alexandria police call Metro police.

3:18 a.m. -- Alexandria police call Metro police. Again. From The Post: "On the first call, the dispatcher said: 'Hey, I want to double-check -- you have a bomb dog that's going to be assisting there at the Braddock Metro, right?' The Metro police dispatcher 'stated that they did not have a bomb dog assisting' and hung up." Way to build up our confidence, fellas.

5 a.m. -- Virginia State Police team finally arrives, followed by Metro's explosives technicians. Good thing it wasn't a real bomb.

8:05 a.m. -- In Boston, a train passenger notices "what was described as an object with wires and tubes stuck on a steel support girder underneath Interstate 93, about 12 to 15 feet above the bus depot at Sullivan Square Station in Charlestown."

9:26 a.m. -- Suspicious activity reported in the D.C. metro. All trains pull to a stop. In the tunnels. In the dark. With me on board. For the next 15 minutes. Dying in a metro tunnel ranks up there with death by plummeting off the world's most dangerous road.

9:47 a.m. -- A short circuit in an electrical line causes a fire in a D.C metro station ... for the second day in a row. The station closes.

10:48 a.m. -- The station reopens.

10:59 a.m. -- The station closes.

11:40 a.m. -- The station reopens. For real. Promise.

11:00 a.m. -- Visitors in Key West call 911 because a dolphin in a tank surfaced with several items, including one that looked like a homemade bomb. It turned out to be a toy. My question is, who was the person who identified the toy as a homemade bomb? Would you recognize a homemade bomb in a dolphin tank? Not me.

1:00 p.m. -- Meanwhile, back in Boston, the police continue to receive calls about these suspicious objects throughout the metropolitan area.

4:00 p.m. -- City and state officials hold a press conference to quell fears and Turner Broadcasting admits it was a publicity stunt. Turns out, the objects were cartoon characters promoting a new show. Seriously, Boston? You confused a cartoon character giving you the finger with a bomb?!

Sunday, January 28, 2007

life's random

A compilation of random thoughts:

Penelope Cruz is a much better actress in her native tongue. I saw the latest Almodovar film, Volver, in which she stars and was blown away. While it's a quirky film, the female-focused characters are touching, strong and entertaining.

My state senator, Patricia Ticer, sits on two of the most interestingly named committees I've ever come across -- the subcommittee of penalties for dog attacks and the subcommittee on waste discharge permits. Um. Seriously, I'm not really sure I'd list those on my resume.

What does one do with 23 kindergarten children? I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out on Tuesday. As a new volunteer tutor for Heads Up DC, I will be working with an afterschool literacy program every Tuesday afternoon in southeast DC. Somehow, I got stuck as the only tutor to help a teacher with 23 kindergarten children. Oh. My. God.

Pythons eat dogs.

Friday, January 26, 2007

It's flammable

Last night was the first IPO of the semester. I was totally looking forward to observing the Gang acting all crazy and promptly sharing the stories with you. Surely, thought I, the first IPO of the semester will provide endless amounts of excellent blog fodder. Except that I ended up being the craziness and only remember half of the night. It wasn't really my fault! I blame it on the 3 gin and tonics. And the 3 shots of I-don't-know-what. And the 3 glasses of champagne. uggghhhh .... The good news is that I should wear that brown dress more often -- men were buying me drinks all night and I received a whole bunch of compliments. Great for the ego and the budget! The bad news is that I got into a fight with an Australian on the street (don't remember any of it) and was hungover all day. Ew.

Needless to say, I wasn't very productive today. I bought folders at CVS. And I put stuff into the folders.

I also set my kitchen sponge on fire. That was definitely the highlight of my day. Now, before you judge me, let me just say that I read an article in this week's Post about a scientific study that showed you can sterilize your sponges by nuking them for two minutes. I figured it would be a good idea to have a germ-free sponge. Unfortunately, while the scientific claim may be true, it is also a fact that sponges don't take well to microwaving. After about a minute and a half, the plastic scrubby layer starts to melt and the insides have been crisped black. In my lethargic state, it took me a few moments to comprehend that a burning smell of plastic and a smoking sponge was not a good combination. In a slight panic, I prematurely terminated the sterilization process and gingerly removed the almost-germ-free sponge, which was now starting to ooze melted plastic and whose corner was completely blackened. It didn't smell so good. Who knew you could overcook a sponge?

Always on top of things, The Post today published an article about other sponges who have met similar fiery demises. It's nice to know I'm not the only irresponsible sponge owner. Schadenfreude!

Thursday, January 25, 2007

The 2007 Elections

You didn't know there were a significant 2007 elections did you? Well, as it turns out, the Gang of 100 is electing its very own student administration today and Yours Truly is running for president. Like any good business student I have made the following pledge as part of my campaign:

I pledge to always share juicy stories about the rest of my classmates, no matter how far behind in schoolwork I fall. I shall use what power is bestowed upon me to uphold the rights of business students everywhere, as we are an underpriveleged, oppressed lot. I will faithfully execute the office of president and hereby solemnly swear to understand the difference between LIFO and FIFO.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Bill Cosby wants his sweater back


My professor is wearing a Bill Cosby sweater ... and it practically reaches his knees. I'm waiting for this guy to break out with "Jellllllo puddin' pops!" but he's white. Not sure it would work out so well. I'm trying so hard to pay attention but his teaching style is reminiscent of my middle school days and I find it rather distracting. After all, middle school was a tumultuous time. I think I was still trying to dye my hair blond with a yellow marker.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

The SOTU blog


My thoughts as they flowed during the State of the Union address....I didn't start typing until about 9:20, though.

9:00 We see the Supreme Court justices, Cabinet and Joint Chiefs of Staff entering. Everyone looks so friendly and happy! Oh and there's Barack, with Hillary seated right behind him. Madame Speaker! Cool and it's about time. Georgie just told Nancy to get the party started. I wonder if she forget she's supposed to bang the gavel. Interesting -- POTUS didn't start by saying "the state of our union is strong." But he did point out rising wages, low unemployment, 41 months of growth.

9:20 McCain looks old. Another Barack/Hilary shot.

9:21 Is Ted Kennedy drunk or asleep? Ok, so eliminating earmarks is a priority.

9:22 No Child Left Behind ... my ass. Education is the next priority.

9:23 And now he brings out health care..was that a snicker on his face? Is Cheney's tie really iridescent purple? That's awesome.

9:24 Barack is sleeping. Doesn't he know he's splitting camera time with POTUS and She-ra? Hillary's lips are taut.

9:25 Yay Lieberman! You deserved to win.

9:26 How come Michael Levitt gets a screen title and the highest ranking Asian woman in the country doesn't? NBC, you disappoint me.

9:27 Medical liability. Only the Repubs liked that one. Oh, there's John Kerry. Poor guy -- he still wants to run for prez.

9:28 Temporary work visas is now the topic of the hour. C'mon, where's the Dem applause? Another McCain shot. Another Barack/ Hilary shot, new angle though. Good job, NBC. I was getting bored with the closeup.

9:29 Comprehensive immigration reform -- and the crowd goes wiiiiiled!

9:30 Now we need to diversify the energy supply. Did anyone else see the new Ford Edge hydrogen fuel cell car? Too bad it cost them $2 million for the prototype. Hee -- POTUS just said "veeHICKuls"

9:31 Energy reform. Looks like that's another bridging topic. Cheney is either chewing on the stuff stuck in his teeth or he's choking down a smirk about energy reform.

9:33 whoa Prez and VP just took a coordinated drink together. weird.

9:34 oh, Dems don't like what he just said about fast Senate approvals of his Justice appointees. First mention of "terra-ists" so far.

9:36 A shot of the Senator from Maine. Not sure why she's important.

9:37 I find it sad that men can only wear brown, black or navy blue suits. The women get to have all the colors.

9:38 "totalitarian ideology" ... that was a lot of syllables in two words for him

9:39 oh geez. what happened to that man's EYE?! Oh, he must have gotten whacked by the zoom lens of the paparazzi next to him. Another Barack/Hillary shot

9:40 Condi shot. omg, she looks SO MEAN. Is that her default face?

9:44 I don't really ahve words for this long discourse on the mess in the Middle East. Its just sobering.

9:45 The new Iraq strategy is being revealed -- it's the SURGE! I just want him to use that word once. Just once. Pleeeeease?

9:46 Peter Pace shot. I kinda want to touch his uniform. It has lots of colors.

9:47 He says this is the best chance for sucess. For the sake of the troops, for our sake, for the sake of the Iraqis, I hope he's right.

9:49 Joe Biden makes his first appearance on NBC cams. Nothing is more important for this country than securing Iraq. Problem is, that's true. But Pelosi didn't stand for those comments. Interesting.

9:50 Whoa -- did he just acknowledge that we were once united and now we're not? He's asking for a chance to prove that the SURGE! is a good idea.

9:51 He wants to increse by 95000 troops. We have more than 1.6 million active military but still. That's not that many but still ...

9:52 A volunteer reserve military? As opposed to a draft, I suppose. Wait...what do we need them for? Oh, I don't know...how about an Iran invasion?

9:54 Now North Korea gets a mention. Boy, that dictator scares me. And Darfur gets a mention? Another Barack/Hillary shot..but Hil kinda got cut off.

9:55 AIDS in Africa. Bono would be proud. $1.2B to combat malaria in Africa. I just noticed that the Justices aren't clapping or standing. Do they get a reprieve? Lucky them. The SOTU is worse than a Catholic mass with all its stand up/sit down action.

9:56 Dikembe Mutombo!?! Sitting next to the First Lady. That is SO RANDOM. Laura is standing next him but you'd never know it. And they put an Asian woman on his other side. Way to make a tall man look even taller.

9:58 Interesting to call out a women entreprenuer, who happens to be a social entreprenuer too. Women are the fuel of this economy, I tell you.

9:59 Prez points out the Subway Hero. "You da man," is what Wesley Autrey just mouthed to POTUS. I think that might have been my favorite part so far.

10:02 The state of our union is strong! That was a pretty strong finish from the Prez, especially since the rest of the speech was a little...somber. Not nearly as exuberant as I remember last year's address being. But POTUS got 62 applause interruptions and chuckles for his one and only SOTU joke about C-SPAN.

Why my mom is better than your mom

I came home last night to find a package that my mother sent me. Inside was the guitar scale book that I bought in Memphis at the Gibson Guitar factory and a fabulous new shoulder bag with a matching laptop sleeve. Oh, and just for good measure, she threw in a few dried oysters and a handful of dried scallops so that I can now cook one of my favorite Chinese dishes that require these key but hard to find ingredients. It kinda left a fishy smell in the laptop sleeve, but how many of you can say your mother sends you dehydrated sea creatures in the mail?

This freakin' rocks. I love being Asian.

At least it was a good sports week for The Lady V

Yesterday, I watched The Chicago Bears earn a spot in the Superbowl Championship Game. And then I boarded a flight from Boston to Washington and waited on the Logan runway for almost two hours. I hate when that happens. We finally landed in the snowy, icy District (more than two hours late) and I quickly moved to catch a cab. Except that D.C. cab drivers are big fat hairy wussies and the line for a taxi was more than 30 minutes. Seeing as I only live a couple Metro stops from the airport, I decided to take the train, then a cab from the train station. Except that when I got to my home train station, there were no cabs. None. Zip. Bupkus. And when I called the Alexandria Yellow Top Cab Company, I was told it would be a two hour wait. So, I trudged myself and all my luggage through the ice and snow down the 15-minute walk to my house. And then the skies opened up and poured forth cold rain down upon my sorry ass, and made me curse increasingly louder through the streets of Virginia. I formally apologize to my neighbors.


But all that time sitting on the runway, in the air, and on the train made me think about the somewhat drama-filled and awkward weekend I just spent in Boston. (Not that it was all bad -- I witnessed the happy union of two dear friends whose relationship I've seen develop from its infancy. It really is a precious moment to see two people who have chosen each other for all their character strengths and weaknesses finally wed! Congratulations, Beavergrads!) And I met up with a few old co-workers from my Big Red days. We caught up, I shared my latest dating drama and my friend says to me, "Well, you know, you have other dating options too. Remember my friend Tim that you met when I was visiting DC?" "Oh, you mean Tim who was engaged when I met him?" "Yeah, well, he broke off the engagement and thinks you're really cute. He has a thing for Asians so we don't really know why he was ever with that girl." Great. I am so doomed for categorical failure in matters of love. I should use my life as the basis of a tragic TV mini series brimming with sappy dialogue narrated by David Allan Boucher, sell it to Lifetime or Oxygen, and live in the lap of luxury until the end of my days. I actually started writing the mini series in my head while I traveled, calling it My Heart as Football. But instead of being about the messy state of affairs in my heart and love life, it ended up using an inappropriate number of stretched metaphors involving fumbles, bad calls, penetrated defense, multiple (in the) sacks, and physicality on the field. Since I'm not nearly that slutty (even though sometimes I wish it, because I secretly aspire to be the next Washingtonienne), I’m going to spare you that literary pain and just hope The Gang of 100 provides better fodder for your reading pleasure. It’s only the first week of classes, so just give ‘em some time. Something is bound to happen…

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

America makes me weep

I'm currently watching the season premiere of American Idol.

It's excruciating.

Why do I do this to myself?

------------------------
In other news, today was the first day of classes for Semester #2. The Gang of 100 descended once again upon The Duck, in all our student glory -- backpacks brimming with newly bought school supplies, laptops at the ready, Harvard Business Review articles freshly printed, crinkled copies of the Wall Street Journal clutched in our eager hands. We hugged, traded vacation stories, and then got ready for business and headed into class.

Our professor never showed up.

You think I'm kidding. But I'm not. Actually, her absence fueled rumors that she doesn't actually exist. At the time of this writing, we have not received a book list for the class and have not seen any evidence on the school's online "blackboard" that we're actually taking this class. Now, in light of this, I wanted to conduct an experiment. What if we just kept showing up for class at the alotted time and didn't say anything to anyone? How long would it really take for a school administrator to notice? We could even complain about the class workload in the halls, strategically within hearing distance of the administration. It could have been a study in group conspiracy. But no, we have mature people in The G Unit and someone went to dig up the truth. Turns out, the professor thought the class was taking place on Thursday.

I wonder if this happens at Harvard ....

Monday, January 15, 2007

Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind

In church yesterday, I heard an excerpt of a Martin Luther King Jr. sermon, in which he constructed a letter that the apostle Paul might write to America. Although these words were spoken in 1956, I can't help but be awed by how true they remain today. A portion of the letter appears below, but I would encourage you to read Paul's Letter to American Christians in it entirety. On a day in which so much is commemorated and immortalized, let's also remember the man whose passion and ideas were enabled with a Bible in one hand and the Constitution in the other.

I, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, to you who are in America, Grace be unto you, and peace from God our Father, through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

For many years I have longed to be able to come to see you. I have heard so much of you and of what you are doing. I have heard of the fascinating and astounding advances that you have made in the scientific realm. I have heard of your dashing subways and flashing airplanes. Through your scientific genius you have been able to dwarf distance and place time in chains. You have been able to carve highways through the stratosphere. So in your world you have made it possible to eat breakfast in New York City and dinner in Paris, France. I have also heard of your skyscraping buildings with their prodigious towers steeping heavenward. I have heard of your great medical advances, which have resulted in the curing of many dread plagues and diseases, and thereby prolonged your lives and made for greater security and physical well-being. All of that is marvelous. You can do so many things in your day that I could not do in the Greco-Roman world of my day. In your age you can travel distances in one day that took me three months to travel. That is wonderful. You have made tremendous strides in the area of scientific and technological development.

But America, as I look at you from afar, I wonder whether your moral and spiritual progress has been commensurate with your scientific progress. It seems to me that your moral progress lags behind your scientific progress. Your poet Thoreau used to talk about "improved means to an unimproved end." How often this is true. You have allowed the material means by which you live to outdistance the spiritual ends for which you live. You have allowed your mentality to outrun your morality. You have allowed your civilization to outdistance your culture. Through your scientific genius you have made of the world a neighborhood, but through your moral and spiritual genius you have failed to make of it a brotherhood. So America, I would urge you to keep your moral advances abreast with your scientific advances.

I am impelled to write you concerning the responsibilities laid upon you to live as Christians in the midst of an unChristian world. That is what I had to do. That is what every Christian has to do. But I understand that there are many Christians in America who give their ultimate allegiance to man-made systems and customs. They are afraid to be different. Their great concern is to be accepted socially. They live by some such principle as this: "everybody is doing it, so it must be alright." For so many of you Morality is merely group consensus. In your modern sociological lingo, the mores are accepted as the right ways. You have unconsciously come to believe that right is discovered by taking a sort of Gallup poll of the majority opinion. How many are giving their ultimate allegiance to this way.

But American Christians, I must say to you as I said to the Roman Christians years ago, "Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind." Or, as I said to the Phillipian Christians, "Ye are a colony of heaven." This means that although you live in the colony of time, your ultimate allegiance is to the empire of eternity. You have a dual citizenry. You live both in time and eternity; both in heaven and earth. Therefore, your ultimate allegiance is not to the government, not to the state, not to nation, not to any man-made institution. The Christian owes his ultimate allegiance to God, and if any earthly institution conflicts with God's will it is your Christian duty to take a stand against it. You must never allow the transitory evanescent demands of man-made institutions to take precedence over the eternal demands of the Almighty God.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Windows in the Skies

Just in case you (like a certain someone I spoke to today) have been living under a rock and haven't seen it.



Haven't yet found a listing of all the musicians who make an appearance in the video.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

We bombed Somalia ...

... in order to get those sneaky al Qaeda guys. And one of our submarines crashed into a Japanese merchant ship. And there's a mystery stench settling over Manhattan. And one Metro subway car was derailed. And a bunch of 747 cargo doors fell onto some guy's house in California. And I'm convinced that we'd be much safer if we replaced the airport security force with a group of bar room bouncers.

We all know that those TSA jokesters couldn't save us from a paper bag. And they sure as hell aren't inspecting nothin' when we walk through the metal detectors devoid of shoes, belts, watches, jewelry and other accessories. But, man, they can spot a plastic bottle containing 3.02 oz of liquid faster'n the hurled insults from Rosie to Donald (with love).

When I went to check in a bag at Reagan Airport over the break, I was shocked when the ticket agent wished me a happy birthday. Shoot, even I had forgotten that it was my birthday. Sadly enough, when I went through security, there was no acknowledgement whatsoever. So I started thinking about all those times that I tried to get into bars with fewer than 21 birthdays behind me. It hardly ever worked. I even got carded during the Memphis trip at the Mississippi casino that my parents took me to because of the all-you-can-eat buffet with lobster tail and Alaskan King crab legs. We're so Asian. (But you know, casinos are such equal opportunity establishments. Young and old, male and female, straight and gay, red, yellow, black and white can all come together under the noble endeavors of losing money and eating lobster tails. Fascinating.)

But what if we had bouncers operating as TSA agents? I'm telling you, nothing would get by these guys. They know every state's license, they can spot a fake in 13 seconds flat, and they have expertise in exerting physical force. I think I'm on to something....

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Agog but not quite aghast


Last Friday, Congressman George Miller logged into Second Life to speak to a virtual audience in a virtual Capitol Building, complete with virtual congressional seals, podiums and an eerily accurate avatar. Rocketboom's Joanne Colan moderated the Q&A session, which was open to the public. Watch it yourself.

So.

I'm not really sure what to make of this. Call me crazy but if I'm going to participate in a virtual second life, I want it to be as different from my real life as possible. I mean, my real life is messed up enough as it is; why replicate it online? No, if I were a Second Lifer, I wouldn't spend my time listening to a real Congressman speak. I'd want to live a life of power, of wealth, of influence, of stature and quality ... I would be a 6'5" heterosexual white man! And the first thing I'd do is have virtual sex with a busty blonde. And pee into the Grand Canyon while standing up.

You think I'm kidding. Which I am. Sort of. Not about the peeing thing though. But really, what would my virtual life be like as a heterosexual white man? Who would my friends be? What kind of job would I hold? What expectations would be placed on me and what obstacles lie before me? And could I get arrested for virtual public urination?

All quality questions, I feel. And if I had enough time and money, I would take on this social experiment, write a book about it and get rich. Unfortunately, my real life consists of sticking to a student's budget, watching Liverpool lose miserably to Arsenal, and hunting for the perfect internship.

Oh hell, who needs a virtual life when you can have my exciting reality?

Friday, January 05, 2007

Beloved, let us love one another

Today, I stumbled most unexpectedly upon the contradictions that are the United States.

After passing away the leisurely morning of a vacationing student, I ambled down to the local T-Mobile store, coatless and enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. Poor T-Mobile. It wants so badly to be a "real" cell phone provider but somehow, I received better reception in La Paz, Bolivia, than I do in my house and in The Duck in D.C. Go figure. Anyway, after a rather useless conversation with the rather vacant young man behind the counter, I decided to pop into a few stores to get to know this neighborhood better.

A store called "An American in Paris" showed some cute dresses in the window, so I tried to enter but the door was locked. Confused because of the "We're Open" sign, I scanned the doorway and saw a sign that said "Due to security reasons, our door is kept locked. Please knock and someone will answer." I obliged and a very nice woman let me in and quickly explained that hers is a high-end boutique and that I must not, under any circumstances, pull the clothes from the rack by the material. Instead, I must only touch the hangers.

Now, I don't pretend to be an expert in high-end boutique shopping, but I've never, ever heard of such a thing. I gave her a brief look of disbelief, but figured I should just be cooperative and browse, seeing as I wasn't going to buy anything anyway. Here's the queerest bit -- her selection, while very nice, was hardly exclusive. I mean, Nicole Miller dresses? You can buy those at Macy's. And you don't have to handle them by the hanger. Nothing that I could find in the store cost more than $450. Parents have spent that much on prom dresses for their high school daughters.

But that's not the point. I left the "high-end boutique" quickly, shaking my head at the uncalled for pretense, and then heard a woman call out to me on the street. I turned and she approached, limping and dressed rather raggedly in multiple layers and a hat pulled low. She explained that she was homeless and pregnant, that she needed me to pray to Jesus for her, and that she couldn't get into a shelter because she has no ID and doesn't have the money to get one. Then she asked if I could spare a few dollars so she could eat.

I generally don't give out money to homeless individual, out of respect for the hard work of shelters and other charitable organizations that are trying to end the cycle of homelessness. But I will occasionally offer to buy a meal. Which is what I offered this woman. We walked a block to Five Guys and I bought her a burger. We chatted for a few minutes and then I left. It was only when I was four blocks away that I realized I hadn't even asked her name.

I felt ashamed. There were a million of other things I could have done. At the very least, I could have listened -- a simple gift of compassion and selflessness and humanity. But there I was, rushing off to do more internship hunting. How classy. The American story, in many ways, is reflected in this microcosm of an afternoon, isn't it? On one side, the privileged, locked up behind secure doors, displaying their luxuries to the world around them. On the other, a woman with nothing, degraded and dehumanized, forced to ask strangers for money and food. And then there's the rest of us in the middle, enjoying the warmth of riches but faced with the rush and realities of life. How often do we choose what is easy over what is right? Okay, so that's a rather simplistic and dramatic way to explain it ... but, still, perhaps not too far from truth.

Over spring break, I'm trying to arrange a Habitat for Humanity trip to Costa Rica. I'm hoping some of the Gang of 100 will join me. We are encouraged to do "community service" in the program -- in fact, it's a requirement. But the "service" has generally just meant strolling along in the latest fundraising walk-a-thon. Call me a literalist, but community service should include actually serving someone. Not a generic body of people, but somebody. Somebody specific, somebody whose name you know, whose story you've heard. That's service. When you put that person's needs in front of your own and do it gladly. The best part of service is that everyone benefits in deeper and more meaningful ways that anyone could have imagined. So I hope I can pull together a band of misfits bound for Costa Rica and actually serve a family that needs and deserves a home. I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, I will be praying for that nameless woman on the street and may someone else aid her in the ways that I embarrassingly did not.