From work:

S.:(looking at a colouring book about Jesus) Look, Jesus is magic!
Me: I…uh…Is that right? I…didn’t know that.
S.: He is magic! He told the dead girl to wake up and she went back to life!
Me: Um… That’s a little bit different than magic.
S.: But he is! I had 11 jacks before in my cup, and when I checked before, I only have 10!
Me: …Are you sure you didn’t lose them? I don’t think Jesus would take your jacks
S.: THE DEVIL TOOK THEM!
Me: I… don’t think he’d need them either.
J.: I DON’T BELIEVE IN THE DEVIL.
E.: (from out of nowhere) JESUS LIVES IN THE SKY

I had a nervous giggle-fit by the end of this. And it gets better! I checked boingboing(or was that gothamist?) when I came home and found this talking Jesus figure. I actually kind of want one for the novelty of it. “LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS ONE TIME I WAS JUST SITTING THERE ON THE SIDE OF A MOUNTAIN!”

P.S:

My Metal Gear Solid PS3 Bundle is coming in a matter of hours! I AM ATWITTER WITH GLEE.

For the longest time, I’ve regarded Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx as mere environs of the city proper. (Staten Island isn’t a borough no matter what people say. Sorry.) Actually, I still think that. Whoops.

Yet, there is truly something remarkable about the character, the feel, the ambiánce (stress the accent mark, it makes it classy) that can be found beyond asphalt roads. In this case, the roads are lined with stone.

DUMBO is a cobble-lined oasis of a neighborhood.

On the 125th Anniversary of the Brooklyn Bridge, hundreds of people swarmed to the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge as part of the Friday night celebrations. Promptly snatched up Target blankets, a field of families and couples, a big inflatable screen? You guessed it.

It was a showing of Disney’s Enchanted.

I’m not going to comment on the movie itself save for my recommendation to watch this in a wide open field under the night sky. Preferably with friends, if you’ve got ‘em.

If you’re sane unlike me, you’d enjoy the movie without recurring thoughts of Zionism and the destruction of cultural ideals and morals. Hey, I never made any claims to being a normal person.

It was really quite memorable, that experience. There’s something magical about the scent of the salt water, the smell of damp grass, the glow of the bridge and its reflection on the shimmering water. (I was about make a pun, but I thought the better of it) Naturally we had to explore the area more, and being the spry young things that we are, we went back on Memorial Day.

An Rong, Janet, Louie Chin, Carrie and I formed a small expeditionary party. The small beach by the park is amazing! All the kids were out of school and just running amok. I managed to get one or two shots I was happy with:

Afterwards, A Salt and Battery!

Grom!

Obligatory! (Jan Jan!)

Angry looking Carrie!

END TRANSMISSION!

Backstory: An Rong posts on a mutual friend’s facebook wall, declaring his love for her. I step in shortly after. Hijinks ensue. For those unfamiliar with facebook, posts are reversed chronologically (newest on top).

Debby
heyy!
yesterday was supposed to be your biweekly blog update XD
Allen
Really?
Do I do that?
Debby
yeah! :O
yeah, hahah XD
Allen
Holy crap
Wait no
Today is
Oh my god
My calendar is red the whole way down this month

So yeah, this is my last week of class, and I don’t have time to sleep starting tonight. Can I pull 3 all nighters in a row? Find out, in the next chapter!

This past Saturday, I attended NYCAASC as a volunteer, since I had a blast the previous year. I had a blast this year as well, with familiar faces, and so many more unfamiliar ones. I mean: I had fun, I learned a lot and I met more great people. But NYCAASC means a lot more to me than an Asian American Conference.

To be honest, I’m extremely wary of ‘community’ events. Race centric? Exclusive? I’ve seen the “Angry Asian Man” fiasco far too many times, to be frank. NYCAASC was my first, and I have been spoiled by it. Hosted by NYU and Columbia’s respective Asian-American student organizations, we’re so liberal, we’d give Dick Cheney another 5 heart attacks. My points of view have been forced way open since last year. And let me tell you, having your fragile beliefs trampled on is so fucking gratifying. Pick up the pieces, and put them in their respectable places in a more open mind.

What if we had the ability to begin anew every year? To take our worn out sneakers, wipe off the dirt and grime and all the paint stains, place them back on our weathered heels, and march off in a slightly different direction: wouldn’t that be great? Maybe. Maybe not. I’m only human anyway, so all I can do is look back.

Have I achieved all that I’ve wanted in the last year?

I’m still not really sure. Can people really change their fundamental character and defy the fine threads that define who they are? I’ve pushed myself far beyond my comfort level, but will I sink back into one of the many past me’s? Or can I manage to discover the me that I fight to become? Who knows, right? What matters now is the present, really.

But at the present, it feels like my flow has stopped. I’ve been riding the current for a while, but now it seems like I’ve hit mud and rocks. Have I just been reading too much Murakami? (Has the well run dry; my cat gone missing?) I suppose I’ve never been so lost before, so torn between the past and present that the way forward is a void.

I realize I’m running circles right now, but really, that’s how it feels. Excuse the shitty narrative. I’m just feeling a bit more insane than usual. I do have to say that I’m glad my emotions are as familiar as ever. I don’t know what’d I’d do if I lost that.

It’s some sort of vicious cycle, really. The late night sessions into the 4A.M territories, and the 7A.M alarm. It’s always the same, the procrastination, drunken orgies of lonely complatency – prodding the puddle, but never mopping the mess till the end. Is it just some sort of masochistic tendency both we and I have? Is there something fetishistic about stretching the limits of our bodies, and torturing ourselves with caffeine and all night jam sessions of the studious kind?

You bet. We’re college students.

Of course, being such a blistering and unnatural day to be anywhere other than the the warm confines bedding, An Rong needed to come back to the city and get his photo framed for an art contest somewhere in Long Island. I know what you’re thinking. Who the hell goes to Long Island any way? I couldn’t agree more. So instead of roughing it out for 2 hours in the cold, I went to the school library (we have nice sofas there). Art school students never read anyway, so it’s genuinely quiet inside - not to mention cosy.

Think back when to when you were three years old, 6 inches of alabaster dusted wool lay thick on the ground: You’re in the family den, the embers in the fireplace still smoldering and warm, and your mother held you close to her bosom. You feel the warmth through the fabric on her chest, the faint drum of her heart beating…

Not like that at all.

I pulled a bum-style on the sofa, curled up with my macbook pro typing my art history midterm due on midnight of the same day. Having slept on average, 4 hours a day for the week (this is the norm, let the precedent be set here), I was dozing off mid-sentence a few times - a paragraph. Nothing better than a page full of S’s. Two hours later, and with my battery almost drained, I found out that An Rong was running late. Okay, another two hours, which was passed by reading art magazines and dozing off, in some kind of half-awakened state. Think Raskolnikov in Crime and Punishment (your favorite novel).

Giving up to delirium, I decided to head down to Union Square to grab a bite to eat before meeting up. The usual stall didn’t have any of the Ginger-Molasses cookies though! At a loss, I went to the Bread Alone stall and bought a banana walnut muffin. I have to admit, it was very good considering being out in the sub-freezing temperatures all day. I sat down on a bench in Union Square, deciding that it was the most empty I’ve seen ever. The birds didn’t seem to mind the cold at all though – A whole bunch of sparrows approached me the moment I sat down. I swear, they have a 8th sense for this kind of thing.

EMACIATED ASIAN KID APPROACHING WITH MUFFIN:SCRAMBLE

Something like that.

I ended up throwing crumbs at them anyway though. I’m not sure what it is, but I’d feel bad if I didn’t give them some crumbs. It then occurred to me that I’m sitting in a park, essentially alone, feeding birds. I swear I have social skills. Really!

Regardless, I’m sure that the sparrows get by fine without my fine contributions of butter to their diet, but I’m soft hearted. Of course, this doesn’t apply to people: Hands off my muffins.

The lesson of the day: Don’t go anywhere with An Rong without checking the forecast.

Edit: Guess where I’m typing this. Hint: It’s Friday, and I’m killing time.

There are 4 parts on youtube, and part 2 had me tearing from “ROLLING BUDDHA THUNDER.”

Remember, all Japanese men can do this.

the reason for the downtime was a massive data loss on my old host, so all data has been lost, and we’re starting from scratch. There are a number of hacks and technical foolery that I had on the site pre-crash so as I hand edit codes (it’s faster and less messy this time around) there will be blips and glitches.

Progress with re-hacking the theme/widgets/plugins: 10% 65% Done

P.S: Get it? POST apocalypse! Disappearing posts! HAH. Okay, no one cares for my puns.