Chinese Peking Opera

Dedicated to: The Artists of Chinese Theater

Saturday, 11th, 2011, 1:30PM

The stage is dark. The light comes on. The curtains are pulled back with traditional Chinese music playing in the background. The band is live, consisting of a variety of Chinese instruments including the well-known erhu that looks like this:

The stage comes alive with a single actor dressed in a colorful, traditional Chinese garb representing the glory days of the Chinese Empire. With great flourish, he begins the play through song and dramatic hand gestures, taking the audience through a famous Chinese story of betrayal, love, and justice.

On this rainy day, our teachers had decided to take us to see a Chinese play at the famous Peking Opera House. There are actual several of these theaters located in various locations in China, but the theater in Shanghai is one of the more well-known locations. Today's play is called Bao Gong An and through the courtesy of Wiki, below is a link to a brief description of what the play is about under "Life and Career" and "Legend."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bao_Zheng

Listening and watching Chinese opera is an acquired taste, because to many people, Chinese Opera may seem harsh to the ear. Here are a few audio samples:

Granted that the play was difficult to understand due to it's mixed use of traditional and modern Chinese, I thoroughly enjoyed the play because it was the first time I've actually seen one live. The costumes were elaborate, and from past brief web researches on how the actors design their faces, I knew that the masks were not actually masks, but hand-painted designs that can take as long as 4 hours to finish. Furthermore, my grandfather actually knows how to sing some opera-style Chinese, which I've always found amusing.

Overall, it was a fantastic cultural experience, and I highly encourage everyone to go  and check-it out if they get the chance :)

Fabric Market

Dedicated to: The Wonders of Custom Fabric

It's been a strange week here in Shanghai, China. Rain has been bringing in intense heat and humidity. With most of Asia running on an open-sewer system...yeah...fun and interesting smells have been noticed to say the least.  Fortunately, some exciting events have occurred since the last time I posted. Unfortunately, I've also been a lazy-ass/flat out exhausted and not been as on top of my postings as I should be. Well, with that I'm just going to get into the awesomeness of the Fabric Market.

The Fabric Market is a three-storied building, and when observed from the outside, it actually doesn't look very large. The moment you step inside, it's like stepping into another unique realm in Shanghai. Each building's story is cluttered with hundreds of small shops offering foreigners and natives their fabric wares. For the most part, the market is packed with people that are constantly being pestered by vendors who want them to come into their shop.This place in Shanghai is called the Fabric Market because it is a renowned area for people to order custom-made business suits, slacks, coats, jeans, shirt-tops, traditional Chinese garb, and just about anything else you could think of that can be worn and made to exactly fit the individual.

You may wonder, what's the best part? YOU CAN HAGGLE. That's right, if you don't haggle for your prices you will definitely be ripped off, or worse, realize that what you ordered wasn't even that great of quality.

I've already been to the Fabric Market market 4 times. I've been going to the same vendors for those last minute gifts, with prices that continue to improve because of the repeated visits. Of all the times I've gone, I had friends that either came with me, or I escorted them to the best vendors. Thankfully, most have been satisfied in what they purchased, because of me haggling for them, while giving them a chance to learn the ropes. It has definitely been enjoyable for me in helping them hone their haggling skills. I can also say for sure that my own haggling skills have improved a great deal. It's only embarrassing when I actually try to haggle in an established department store u_u ... But, I still ask if there is a discount before I think about purchasing something :)

I probably won't return to the Fabric Market again, but I can't help but think about getting a pea coat custom-made...

Shopping

Dedicated to: The Art of Haggling

A key skill to learn while you are in China is haggling. Haggling is everything in China. Items that are "haggleble" range from cell phones, clothing, trinkets, to food (mostly fruits). The importance of haggling will determine whether your stay in China will make or break your wallet. Even if you are not sure if something can be haggled, try anyways. Chances are, if the answer is "no," you can still ask if there is a discount, because merchants won't let the buyers know if there is one unless you ask.

Now, unfortunately, haggling can't be done everywhere. For example, last weekend several friends and I visited one of the many shopping malls that litter the perimeter of our study abroad college. The one that we decided to visit consisted of seven floors and a movie theater. The reason haggling isn't allowed in most malls is because the stores within the malls are actual retail stores that can be found in the US. Sephora, Nike, Armani, are just a few examples of what kind of stores are exist in these malls. Interestingly, the higher the floor you go, the pricier the items are. Within 3-4 hours, we only managed to cover four floors. By "covering" I mean walking by the shops and only going into the ones we had to look in u_u In any case, I everyone had fun and managed to buy some clothing/gifts on the basement floor, which I believe was probably one of the coolest floors. The basement floor sold a great deal of awesome T's and shoes at a decent price.

There are still some malls I need to go visit before leaving Shanghai, but until then, my next post will actually be about the Fabric Market, which truly was a one-of-a-kind experience. Tailored clothing = crazydelicious!

Asian Cheap

Dedicated to: What it Means to be Cheap

Ok, so this is day 3 of Shanghai, China and I've spent less than 50 bucks buying all my meals (plus snacks), supplies for my dorm, stationary, groceries, and shopping.

My first reaction in tallying up my spending money was.....WTF. I still can't comprehend the fact that I can live off of 10 or less dollars in a week in Shanghai. I mean, I eat a lot and I was able to fill myself up at breakfast with less than a dollar's worth of food. I KNOW. CRAZY.

Anyways, because this is kind of a study abroad program, I've got a lot of crap to do in a very short amount of time. So, I'll sign-off for now and keep you guys updated on my adventures. Just an FYI, the next post will be about the shopping malls, which was quite an experience in itself. As always, thanks for reading!

The Edge

Dedicated to: The Heart of Gold in the Frightened

Will you come to the Edge with me? The Edge of something new?
Will you jump with me? Jump into the unknown Future?

You may not know me, but I know that if we don't jump, then there is no Meaning.
Sometimes, it's stepping off the ledge that is the scariest part.

Today, I realized that Life isn't just a path that we forge for ourselves, but a path riddled with different sized ledges. The higher the ledge, the bigger the drop. The bigger the drop, the greater the problem is.

You know the people who can't seem to take that extra step, because they are afraid that nothing will be there to catch them? I know, because I used to be one of those people. It's a time when we think we've reached an impasse, the impossible. We can't seem to continue, or solve the problem. The solution gets further away.

We are stuck.

But, today someone asked me to go to the Edge with them. I thought to myself, what do I have to lose? Let's face it (especially if you are my age), most of us haven't even made anything of ourselves yet. What am I to anyone in the Real world? Nothing. That's the sad truth.

I decided to go to the Edge.
Now I am Something.

Come to the Edge with me, and let's jump into bettering our Generation.
Let's fall into Hate, Prejudice, and Injustice.
Let's get back up in Acceptance, Equality, and Justice.
Let's be the Face of Change. Let's Take a Stand.

Courage

Dedicated to: No One in Particular...


Courage doesn't recognize the five senses,
Courage doesn't discriminate,
Courage doesn't require the sacrifice of others, but your own.

Courage isn't the same thing as Hope,
Courage is never being afraid to Hope, 
To Hope is to have Courage.

Courage is knowing what is Right,
Right is not religion,
Right is natural human compassion,
Right is innately understanding to help those who can't help themselves.

Courage is not being afraid to do that Right,
Not being afraid is facing possible consequences no matter the severity in doing Right,
Not being afraid is taking that extra fall.

Courage is the light we make for ourselves,
Courage is the Hope people find in each other,
Courage is true Acceptance,
True Acceptance is overcoming our Hatred.

Courage is believing in yourself in your Darkest hour,
Don't be a Hero, have Courage,
Courage is the selfless side of the Hero.

Check Out My Guns

Dedicated to: All the Guys and Gals Who Know They Do It

When you go to a gym, do you ever wonder why there are so many mirrors, especially in the weightlifting area? I mean, not all gyms were once dance studies, right? Well, many of you may already believe that these mirrors are for "watching your form" when you use free weights (basic dumbbells and such). You know, to make sure you are doing it "right." Which there is nothing wrong in, but then again, you may wonder, why are there still mirrors around the weight lifting machines that can only perform a single movement? I mean, the directions are printed right on the machine, and it's nearly impossible to hurt yourself, unless of course, you are one of those people that just happen to occasionally crush your fingers in between the adjustable weights.

So, what are the mirrors really for? You guys probably guessed it already, but the mirrors are for pure narcissistic intentions. I was only prompted to write this, because I saw it happening a few mornings ago while I was working out, and I couldn't help but laugh a little in the inside. What makes me laugh is that after every few reps (repetitions) on a machine, the guy would pause, flex a little, and steal a glance at the mirror.

Oh yes, I saw you, don't think I didn't see that...

What't the moral of the story? Well, whether you are a guy or girl, just remember, the next time you can't help stealing a glance at yourself in that magical reflective object, someone more than likely saw you do it and is laughing a little in the inside :)

Little Monsters

Dedicated to: Lady Gaga (WAIT! If you are not a fan, hear me out first :) )

First and foremost, I know I haven't written in a while, and I apologize :( <--- sad face. College has been insane with work, which I guess makes sense, since school will be over in... ONE AND A HALF WEEKS!!!!! WOOOHOOOO!!!! Then, I'm off to Shanghai, but that's another post.

Now, on to the topic of today's post. On Monday, I had the amazing privilege of getting to see Lady Gaga in concert. From the most unbiased standpoint I can find, I want to say that whatever your opinion is of her, no once can deny the fact that she has talent. So, instead of harping on how freakin' amazing she is, I'm just going to provide a basic breakdown of why the concert was awesome, a play by play if you will.

The arena that the concert was held could seat approximately 20,000 plus people. The concert was sold out. Almost one year ago. So with that kind of description, you can kind of imagine in your mind's eye how ginormous this place is and how insane the crowd was (cheering, applauding, whistling, singing along, etc.). There were all kinds of people. Seriously, I've never seen such a variety of people in one place before, and it goes to show the diverse kind of audience Lady Gaga attracts, which I find fascinating. In a way, it's not surprising, but you still can't help feeling surprised and a bit awed when you see it in front of you. Many had made their own costumes, few good, mostly bad though. Bad as in, "please, keep it IN, no one wants to see that u_u" sort of bad. Oh well, it was entertaining at best, but mostly disturbing, lol. I mean, Lady Gaga treats everything she wears as a piece of art and is able to pull it off. When people try to mimic, replicate, or create their own versions...it's usually a fail. Whether female or male, they end up looking like skanks, whores, or strippers. Nasty, but the truth.

On to the concert itself, which was F*****CKING AMAZING. Now, in this post, what I'm trying to do is get people to see what kind of person Lady Gaga is from that concert. Even if you are not a fan, no one can really argue that she doesn't have talent. Especially the haters, come on, she attended NYU's Tisch School of Arts people, and she only dropped out to pursue her own dream, which clearly turned out, so far, to be admirable at the least. What awes me the most is that Lady Gaga is able to connect with her fans on an individual level no matter how far away you are sitting. With 20,000 plus people, I think that deserves some kudos. Further more, Lady Gaga seems extremely sincere and those of you who know me well, you guys know that I'm usually pretty good at assessing someone's character (different from judging!).

The last thing that I want to touch on is one of the main things Lady Gaga fights for and promotes in her concerts with no reservations. It's the simple idea of equality. Many people who have never gone to one of her concerts or at least seen a few of her decent interviews may think Lady Gaga strictly stands for gay rights. This concept, in reality, is only partly true, because from how she speaks to her audience, you can tell that in the end, she is fighting for the purest form of equality, which is also somewhat on the lines of true acceptance. For what it's worth, I think this is quite a noble cause.

In the end, no one can compare to the King of Pop, Michael Jackson. But, a Lady Gaga concert is like a Michael Jackson concert. You have to go to at least one to truly empathize with my reasoning and feelings. The experience was truly surreal, and as corny as it sounds, I think I came out of it as a better person.

As a person becomes more and more famous, no matter their occupation, he or she will gain an even greater pool of fans and admirers. Along with those fans and admirers, unfortunately, you will also always have your group of haters. Like they say, haters will be haters. What am I? I like to think of myself as a fan and an admirer. With that being said, Long Live Mother Monster, thanks for being you.

How Much Is It Really Worth?

Dedicated to: The Times When We Question the Meaning

Dreams die hard. They can come crashing down in a blink of an eye, or slide painfully down a slope doomed to failure. We invest so much time and effort in what brings us happiness and hope. For all of it to crash down, well, it's like the heart of your world has stopped beating for a while.

Am I a believer of fate? Or destiny? Whatever it is, I do believe that things happen for a reason. The whole idea of "one door closing and another opening," may be more truthful than we believe. Fate in itself is uncontrollable, but what fate brings us is dependent upon our decisions. Destiny is controllable, which also relies on our choices in life. Both are not mutually exclusive. Each relies on the other to create what we understand as our "purpose" in life.

End the end, what if some things we were meant to fail? Is this fate telling us maybe this is not what we are meant to do? No matter how much we believe what we think we are meant for, wouldn't we be more of a fool to not think, perhaps, there is a slight possibility we are wrong? There is a natural feeling of disgust when we speak of "accepting our fate." It has that connotation of us giving up, which implies that we are weak. Then again, "accepting the truth" is not exactly the same as "accepting our fate." What I'm saying isn't new, but sometimes writing it down can help us see clearer.

It's not easy starting down a new path, but sometimes that may be our only choice to salvation and happiness.  Whatever our endeavors bring us, our will to move on is what makes us human. Without the taste of failure, we wouldn't know that taste of victory.

Don't Forget How Far You've Come

Dedicated to: Those Who Keep Fighting

All of you who share the same college year as me are almost at that halfway point in our undergrad years. Everyone else, no worries, what I'm about to write is applicable to all walks of life and educational levels. In this post, I want to write about the importance of keeping our dreams and goals alive.

Last week I experienced again the feeling that everything, particular school, was just not going the way I wanted it to.  Fortunately, it doesn't come often, but I was tired. Tired of school. Homesick for my friends. Angered at my unimpressive performance in Japanese. Things just weren't going right.

I mean, what's "right" anyways? Do we really want all our lives to be a perfect melody played on our favorite instrument? I don't know. It's hard to say. What I do know, is that how ever much others would want to argue, I strongly believe that every human being on this Earth has a purpose - a goal to fulfill. What I experienced that day, was how simple the goal(s) could escape in the realm of reality, which can be so easily filled with hate, despair, and worry. Since that day, I've been trying to figure out how to combat those feelings of dissatisfaction and loss of hope. I may have found a possible solution.

Sitting in my chair with my head hanging over another disappointing result in my Japanese class, I start mentally punish myself for my suckage in Japanese.

Geez, Saph, way to screw up AGAIN. Now, passing this class is going to be even harder.....way to not do what you said you were going to do....suckfest....ughhhhh.....


<pause>

Ok, so, long story short, everything was just sucking. Point of the matter is that I started to realize how dwelling on the problem wasn't doing anything. Why think of the problem, when thinking about the solution is so much more effective? One of the hardest lessons to learn is understanding when to move on. If we always dwell on the past or some horrific moment, not only will the event end up eating us up from the inside, but corrode away who we really are on the inside and out. I'm not the type to whine and I'm not the type to be put down by failure. But, as you can read, it's not always easy to stay true to yourself.

This is when your friends, family, or mentors come in. In those darkest moments in life, a smile from a good and trusted individual can be more than a helpful act in turning the light back on. You know that saying, "keep your friends close, your enemies closer?" Well, here's another one for the book,"keep your sanity close, your friends closer." We know the tell-tale fact that nobody is perfect. We've all got a little insanity inside of us. I think that's what really makes us individuals.  In some ways, our friends aren't just our better halves (or thirds, or fourths, I guess it depends on how many you have), but part of what greatly helps in keeping our grip on life. The happiness and sorrows in Life is in itself a gift, and it's not something you can be Asian about by re-packaging it and giving it away.  Sometimes, holding on to Life is easier said than done.  But, Life is just one of those things that are truly priceless. It's one of those things that makes everyone equal. Unless you are a cat, of course.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that no matter what, it's not that there is sometimes no Hope, because Hope is always there.  Hope is a concept that people fall back on when Life is in it's darkest moment. There is only Hope when people believe, and believing is what gives Life a chance to rebound and get out of the darkness.

I may have sucked on multiple Japanese assignments and some other school related stuff, but the truth of the matter is that I can't do anything about it anymore, but move on and Hope to do better by taking action in my Life. The idea of Life is beautiful. Life is simply being. And, being can be hard as hell at times, but hey, that's just Life. Take it, and Live it.

Are You Okay?

Dedicated to: Stacy

This post is in response to a friend of mine's post titled, "How Are You?"

I'm sure you guys have experienced a time when you accidentally hurt yourself and induced the question of "are you okay?" from an innocent bystander or friend.  This notorious phrase has many implications. What does "how are you?" really mean? For example, is the phrase supposed to be asked when you are actually there at the moment the person hurts himself or herself? Or are you supposed to ask the question when you see a person that appears to be hurt? OR, is this just an idiotic question that shouldn't be asked at all?

Personally, I think the first case makes the most sense, because the second case just seems out of place and stupid.

Picture this:

You are walking on the side-walk and suddenly, this huge crack on the side-walk unexpectedly appears. The crack raises a portion of the side-walk juuuuuust high enough for you to trip on.

<SLLOOWWWW MOOTTIIOONNNN FALLLLLLL>

The next moment, you find yourself on the pavement with an unreasonably large, deep, long scrape on your knee that's bleeding an unreasonably amount of blood, and on top of that, out of nowhere of course, another person walking hurriedly by you drops an unreasonably large textbook on your head that leaves an unreasonably large bruise. Trust me, this could happen.

Anyways, after the person picks up his book from the pavement and quickly walks away leaving you a fleeing apology, another individual kindly stops to see if they can provide some assistance.

"Are you okay?"

Social etiquette protocol automatically brings a generic response of, "oh I'm okay, it's fine, thanks" out of you.

In reality, this is what should be going on in your head (feel free to insert your own expletives):

"F*********ck!!!! MOTHER F*********CKER!!!! NO, I'm NOT okay. You DUMBASS, get down here and HELP ME UP. GEEZ, why am I GUSHING out blood. CAN'T YOU SEE I am INJURED and BLEEDING PROFUSELY. Once again, NO, I'm NOT okay."

Perhaps, now you guys can see why "are you okay" doesn't necessarily make a situation better :) In any case, I think that from now on, we should all try and stick to comments like "hey, can I help you," "here, let me carry your stuff," or even, "oh man, I'm sorry I need to get to class, but <insert directions> is how you get to the medical center" can be more helpful phrases than "are you okay."

Hopefully, this has been truthful to reality and entertaining. Until next time, my friends!

Freakin' Awesome

Dedicated to: Those of Us Who Thank Whomever We Believe in Everyday for Having Cool Parents

Coming home only a few minutes ago from eating dinner and grocery shopping with my parents, I felt the need to record a conversation I had with my dad. Before I write it down, let me give you guys a brief preface. While we were driving home, we had forgotten that one of the roads we usually traveled on was experiencing heavy construction, even in the evening. Stuck in traffic, my dad gets frustrated and turns on the radio. The station is titled "Wild Atlanta's Party Mix" - a.k.a. heavy party/rap/pop music. Instead of switching to a different radio station, my dad pumps up the volume, while my mom sits in the passenger seat like nothing is happening.

About 5 minutes later, Dad turns the car around and takes another route to reach home. Before we could go home though, we had to make one more stop at a different grocery store. While we wait for Mom to get some berries, my dad cranks the music even louder. I get a little bit more and more uncomfortable thinking, how can dad take this kind of music? He's what, 50 years old? This is the kind of music I listen to at dance parties. After a few more minutes passed, I couldn't resist.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"...How can you stand this music?" (I'm also thinking he was just putting the music on for me, while he was getting a headache)

<pause>

"You have no idea, Sapphire. I used to listen to this music for entire nights at a time."

<shocked pause>

"Oh."

Yes, apparently, my dad, mom, and his siblings went clubbing. A lot. Furthermore, it also sounded like they partied nearly every weekend, which is a great deal along with the fact that this number of parties attended doesn't even include weekdays. In other words, they have probably partied more than most frat or sorority students. Hardcore. To the max.

3 Things I Learned About Myself:

1. My amount of parties attended is pathetic in comparison
2. I should party more
3. If I was ever a parent, I could only wish I was half as cool

Mom, Dad, why must you be so freakin' awesome? I don't think I'll ever figure that out...

The Power of Imagery

Dedicated to: All You Lovebirds

I've never been a mushy, lovey-dovey type of person and never really cared much for chick-flicks, but when my brother told me about this video (I have no idea how he comes across these vids) I felt the need to share it with you guys. This video is a story about lost battles of love.  What I like most about the vid was its strong use of imagery and symbolism. This is a vid that anyone can like without having to have fallen in love before. I think this vid shows how beautiful, yet devastating love can be at times. In any case, enjoy! (for those softies, I suggest tissues :) )

Love Isn't Something You Teach

Dedicated to: Mom and Dad

Ok, so before anyone goes ahead and assumes this is a mushy, gushy entry, it's not. It'll definitely make your insides get all warm and fuzzy though :) 

...Somehow that image makes me think of little smerfs...ANYWAYS, I digress.

A few events this weekend inspired me to write this post. I think it is important to let you guys know something I discovered in terms of the love shared by the kid(s) and his or her parents. It's not something you teach, but something that dates back to the cave man period when everyone was pretty much in loincloths, dirt, and grime. Even with it's long history, parental love isn't something read in a book, but a unique phenomenon that occurs when a man or woman becomes a parent. A secret switch or power, if you will, is awakened, called love. 

We know that love comes in many forms, but I think one of the most unique kinds of love is the love our parents have for us. It's pure, honest, raw, and even annoying at times. I'm going to talk about this love in the perspective of my own parents through the events I mentioned before.

This coming Tuesday, I'll be participating in an undergraduate research symposium that is basically an event that allows students to show and present their research projects for the possibility of earning a monetary reward. My presentation is in the form of a poster, which I printed out last Friday. Now, I didn't have to bring it home, but I decided to because I wanted to show my parents what it looked like since they will not be able to attend the symposium. When I told my parents I had brought home the project, they were quite happy because they had been upset in not having the time to come and see my project at the event.  I proceeded to tell them about my project, pointing out the important and more interesting portions.

My parents never had the opportunity to attend college in the US or their home country for that matter, which makes it difficult for them to understand English at times. I could tell that they were trying really hard to understand what I was telling them, and even though they did not understand everything, they showed a great deal of interest and even asked me questions about the project.  The fact that they were truly interested in what I was saying, but didn't understand everything and asked questions anyways, really touched me. All these years, they've supported me in my goals and have recently been more open in terms of my career possibilities, especially the ones in regards to working with the State Department and other careers of that nature. This growth of understanding has been more than a gift to me, it's giving me a better chance to be somebody in the world, which is priceless. This morning, before I left for campus, I realized I didn't have a proper container to hold my poster and protect it from the elements. My dad quickly went out to the garage and came back in with some pieces of cardboard.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm going to make you a container to hold your poster." (he takes out the yard stick and measures away)

In less than thirty minutes, my dad made me a 36" long, rectangular container to put my poster in. 

"Dad, you didn't have to do this, thanks Dad."

"Of course, no problem." (he gives me a hug and walks away like making the container was nothing)

As I'm sitting in the car getting ready to leave, I can't help but think about how lucky I am. My mom stands by the car and smiles with a wave, while I pull out of the garage. She doesn't leave the garage doorway until I've driven out of sight.

All this time, my parents have never acted unfairly toward me or my brother. Never once have they acted stereotypically Asian and said I couldn't hang out with my friends because I needed to "do homework." And even when I've failed at something, never once had they said "I told you so" making me feel more humiliated. Helping me fix my mistakes has been enough to humble and teach me the importance of humiliation. I think me and my brother both owe a great deal to my parents. But, I think I'm beating my brother at the moment on the whole "I owe you guys thing."  My parents probably don't think me or my brother owe them, but taking care of them in the future is the least I can do, and if I ever decide to have my own kids, I can only hope to be half as amazing as my parents.   

Thanks Mom, Dad.

Appreciate Those Mornings

Dedicated to: Friday Mornings

I woke up this morning to my iPod's alarm jingle. It's a little before 8AM, and I decided to get up and start my day before my first class at 9AM. I get a bit of studying done, get dressed, and did a few more tasks to look presentable to the morning public. I chomp on an orange (yes, chomp, nom, nom, nom), and make some tea to store in a thermos before heading out. Stopping by Dunkin' Doughnuts, I buy a multi-grain bagel for 99 cents. I arrive to class, plop down, and tune-in for that morning's presentation.

Waking up to the sun is glorious. Feeling like you got something in the morning feels fantastic. Drinking the morning tea is soothing. Dipping pieces of multi-grain bagel in jelly and honey is crazydelicious (yes, that's a word).

It can't get any better than this - it's always the simple things.

A Different Trailer Experience

Dedicated to: The Times When Taking Something Literally Can Make Your Day

Most of the time when I plop down to get some work done, I love listening to relaxing music because it helps me concentrate. This morning, I decided to listen to some Esperanza Spalding (totally deserved the "Best New Artist" award in this year's Grammy Awards) on YouTube. I clicked on my browser tab to pick some of my favorites and, all of sudden, opening up YouTube reminded of something my brother once shared with me and I just HAVE to share it with all you awesome readers.

There's a dude on YouTube, whose username is "Tobuscus," that decided to do literal renditions of trailers through voice-overs. These trailers include movies and video games. The results are hilarious. All of his trailers are always titled as "LITERAL (insert movie or video game)."

Now, below is the "literal trailer" he did for a video game called Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. Believe me, you do not need to be a video game fan to understand his game trailers, because it's not the content of the trailer that is humorous, but the way he executes his voice-overs. Without further a due, enjoy :)

HILARIOUS, I know.

Here is one of his non-video game trailers:

Well, if these trailers had you laughing until you started hyperventalating, then be my guest in checking out more of this dude's stuff.

As always, I try to keep this blog a place to grab a laugh or two from work. Thanks for reading (and watching in this case) as always.

...JEFF BRIDGES.... :)

Why are We Playing This?!?

Dedicated to: Those Who Understand the Meaning of Playing in a Symphony

Do you know what a symphony is? It's a group of musicians that consist of orchestral players (violins, violas, celli-plural for cello, bass) and band players (winds, horns, percussion, etc.). What kind of music is considered symphonic? Well, usually it's the old-school stuff- Mozart, Respighi, Tchaikovsky, etc.

With any kind of music, especially symphonic music (in my opinion, of course), it paints some sort of unique picture in each person's mind. Sometimes, the picture is so clear that almost everyone feels what the composer had intended for the listeners and musicians to feel. For example, in Beethoven's famous 5th symphony:

The anger, frustration, and then the feeling of relief and success can be clearly felt as the piece progresses.

In the past year, the quality of my college symphony has....well....lost some musical taste. For all you musicians, part of our repertoire for our next concert is Copland's piece (ugh, for string players, I know). Another featured piece was actually written by a fellow student/musician. Don't get me wrong, I totally respect those that can actually write music because of its difficulty, but sometimes people just need to make the decision that maybe that particular piece of music isn't a good idea to play. Now, this amateur composer is a percussionist. In short, the entire piece sounds like a percussionist's piece but in different instruments- go figure. Anyways, I'm not writing about this to complain how much the piece sounds like one sporadic melody with strange themes, but the picture that it paints. My stand partner, a fantastic guy with a sense of humor, also agrees with on this just to clarify that I might not be as insane as I thought.

Yes, this is Charlie.

That's right, cavemen.

Basically, here is the moving story that appears in my mind when we play the piece: some cavemen come out of, well, a cave, and stare into the rising sun. Then....BAM! Fire is discovered, and they dance around like frenzied animals. All of a sudden, the scene changes and they are skipping through daisies. Out of a rainbow that appears out of nowhere, a unicorn appears. The cavemen gape at the mystical animal, then, Larry, I'm just going to call this particular caveman, chases the unicorn in attempt to eat it. Yes, awkward. The story ends with the unicorn disappearing and the cavemen standing about thinking "wtf." The End.

I hope this illustrates why I do not like the piece of music. Makes the entire cello section seem like cavemen banging on their instruments. Attractive, I know.

<sigh> Oh well, that's all for now. Got a test tomorrow, perhaps I will feel more civilized in the morning.

A Dash of Rain and a Little Coffee

Dedicated to: Lovers of Little Things

I was walking down the sidewalk toward the bus stop (college campus transit). A small Dunkin' Doughnut coffee in one hand, and my other hand in my pocket. I don't even like coffee, but I guess today is an exception. Taking an easy stroll with my iPod, absorbing the rain falling lightly from a gray sky, while heading towards class.

OH CRAP.

I see the bus charging down the street at the speed only appropriate for a Daytona 500 race. With only seconds to catch the bus, I began running/jogging with my coffee.

*Picture this: Asian girl with a coffee in one hand (nearly splashing out), iPod wires swinging around crazier than a group of chimpanzees, and cutting off a local elementary school bus while crossing the crosswalk. Oh yeah. I'm  cool.

Boarding the bus, the driver smiles a smile only reserved for those that run after his bus. One of my favorite bus drivers, he slightly shakes his head in a knowing way, shuts the doors, and guns the bus. I will not be late.

The day was only starting, and I couldn't help feeling good about it. The rain is spiritually cleansing, letting the week start anew after Spring Break, and most important of all, washing away the pollen.

*Side note: I started thinking about this randomly in the past few days. Isn't spring sort of like Nature porn? Let me explain. During the spring, you've got millions of flowers mating, essentially, on a microscopic level. We are inhaling sperm. Awkward? Yes, very. It's cool though, I love Nature, Nature has the right to get it on once in a while. That sounded wrong....okay, anyways, I digress.

Feeling renewed in a way, I go on with my day. I'm not sure how this week can get any better.

Fair Winds and Following Seas

Dedicated to: James Lee

I will honor my first official post to a good friend of mine. Let me tell you about James. James is the type of guy who would have your back in a flash and support you no matter how many times you fail in your endeavors. In other words, he's the kind of guy you would want to be with if there was ever a zombie invasion - dependable, loyal, friendly, and a guy that knows how to work a shotgun.

About a week ago, James left for Marine boot camp on Paradise Island (psh, bullcrap, it's actually Parris Island). His date to leave was actually about three weeks later, sometime in April. Except, perhaps due to some drop-outs, he had the opportunity to ship off early to try and earn one of our nation's greatest honors - to be a Marine. Now, if you ever get to meet this kid as a Marine, he would not be your typical Jarhead. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that all enlisted Marines are like this, but the stereotype is that they are individuals who are fiercely loyal, but aren't the brightest crayons in the box (please excuse the cliche). James on the other hand, is not only street-smart, but quite intellectual at the same time. I had tried to convince him to try and become a Marine officer instead, but he insisted he wanted to experience the life of an enlisted Marine before even trying/think about an officer commission. In summary, he'll be a badass Marine in approximately 12 more weeks.

Why am I talking about this? Well, I think his story is an example of dreaming a dream and living that dream. How many people can say that they had a dream, and is living it? I can definitely say that I'm not even close, yet. What I admire most about James is his ability to pursue his dream no matter what it takes. After nearly two decades of his life, he is finally opened one of his life's doors and walking down that path.  Me? Well, I've just started and I haven't even reached my door.

Back in our senior year in high school, James wrote a message in my yearbook that I would never forget. He wrote something on the lines of "...hey Saph, you are a great friend and a Marine at heart.  I've always been a bit envious of your boldness and don't ever change. Maybe we can salute each other one day." This message will always stick with me, because I couldn't help thinking, why would he be jealous of me? Sure, my personality is a bit blunt, yet humorous, but why would he be jealous of me? When I thought about this later, I finally figured it out. I've always been a driven person and not shy to express my personal dreams and aspirations. I'm going to help save the world one day, maybe I'll work for the FBI, military, State Department, or in the private sector. Maybe, I'll even become the Secretary of Defense and then change "Defense" to "War" 'cause it sounds more badass...yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Where the hell did I get these ideas? I guess much of my personality has to do with this craziness, but I can't help thinking about choosing to spend the rest of my life in a career to help those who can't help themselves. The point is, now I think the feelings James had about me are now reversed. I'm envious of James's freedom and courage to make his own choices.

Do I ever want to become a Marine one day? Maybe yes, maybe no. Who knows, time is always changing along with people's minds. But, I don't believe we could ever change the parts of our personality that makes up the essence of who we are. Point of the matter is that James thought of a dream, went through some personal hardships, but now is on his way to achieve a major portion of it. James, along with a few other of my really close friends, is like a sibling to me. My little brother has finally unfurled his wings and on the path in becoming a Marine - to become somebody because he chose to be somebody. In about 12 weeks, he's going to earn his eagle, anchor, and globe. One day, when I can spread my wings, James will be one of the people I thank. But for now, I don't think it'll hurt to do some of that thanking now.

James, if you ever get around to reading this, thanks. Semper fi little brother.    

Only the Beginning

First off, I would like to state that this is my first official blog. With social networks like Facebook and Twitter taking off in our generation, I decided I would reserve my extraneous thoughts to something a little more old school. Secondly, I've decided that this blog will be more like a commentary. I'll do my best to keep my personal issues off of my posts, so with that being said, comments are greatly welcomed (friendly and appropriate of course, and if critical, please keep it constructive :) ). Lastly, besides finding a way to record these extraneous thoughts, why blog in the first place? I've always been inspired by those who can express humor and sarcasm in their writings. I hope that this blog will become a place where people can check up on once in a while and make their day a little better, with a good chuckle or laugh.

Posting habits: My goal is to post at least once a week. Each post will be dedicated to something or someone. I believe that putting a purpose to a post adds a little more meaning.

As always, thanks for checking out my blog. Live long and prosper, may the Force be with you! That's right, I'm a bit of a geek, I guess you are just going to have to get over it :)