Career Ramblings

What do I want to be when I grow up? That is a strange and wierd question to be asking myself at the age of 23. What is stranger? My answer - I have no idea. But only recently have I learned that it is okay. What is this so called - You must be doing this by this age, be set in a career by this age, putting money into your 401 K and have this amount by this age, own property and be able to sew buttons by this age. It's ludicrious. It's a myth - the myth of your twenties. I cannot truly imagine myself at a job for 20 + years. Can you? Showing up to the same shit everyday until it becomes routine, until it is no longer the job you go to but who you are. Granted, maybe there is a certain formular to success for the majority of people, but they are sheep, meer sheep and I want to be that happy dog running about and sniffing this, that and everything else.

Right now, I realize I'm good at creation and destruction. These two hands can do a lot. I'm looking into massage thearapy. It doesn't end there. I want to personally train people, set up nutrition programs and give people the tools to create better lives. Maybe I'll have my own gym someday. It's an interest, so why not pursue it. My degree from GW is not just insurance, it is a credential. I love to write and I feel like I can do that just as well as anyone else. SO maybe I can pursue something in that area.

What I do know, is that I do not know. And that is okay. The success will come. I think I work too hard for it not to come.


So in other news there is a girl that likes me and I really like her. She's something else. I really have never met anyone like her.

Rain Storms

So yesterday I'm standing at the corner waiting to cross the street in Silver Spring. Out of no where the wind picks up and the wrath of the storm god himself comes down and rips the top of my umbrella off it's poll. While I'm being pellted by tree branches and rain, two cars whip by and splash huge puddles of water on me.

By now it's a complete downpour and i'm soaking wet in my work clothes and Wycleaf Jean's "Apocolypes" is playing on my MP3 player. The power goes out on the streets which makes the traffic lights go out while I'm trying to cross five lanes of traffice in the middle of a monsoon in the middle of rush hour. Oh, and i'm still holding on to the stick..that was once my umbrella.

So I tuck my bag under my arm and run like a Mexican crossing the border. My shoes are still wet and I need a new umbrella.

At least it's a nice day today.

Excuse me, miss

Excuse me miss, but you should not be showing up in my dreams. Once again, you are bending these no communication rules. How is it while I am having the coolest dream ever.. you show up. I mean, I was actually saving the world in my dream from a knife throwing group of thugs and monsters. I think one of the monsters threw CDs too.

We were having an epic battle on the urban streets of New York City. The Flash was dodging things, left and right. Batman was knocking the shiat out of some bad ass dudes, and there you show up with you bright green eys and sweet smile in a black tank top. What were you doing in the middle of this epic battle of galatic proportions you ask? Sitting on the balcony, sipping ice tea. It may have been a mix of Ice tea and lemonade...my favorite summertime non-alcoholic drink. And yes, we were the Justice League of America (The JLA for you comic book enthusiast).

Who was I and what was I doing saving the world? I was Superman, but no one was sure because I didn't have my tights on. There's just something about red underwear that makes my butt look big. And of course Superman would be saving the world. Well, it wasn't until you showed up, that I started flipping people over and basically winning the whole battle for Earth. Then I joined you for Ice Tea/ lemonade and we watched fire works from the balcony of my old apartment in DC. Anyway, I miss you.

Leela James

"You can't fake soul."

Her new Cd, "A Change is Going to Come" is sweet sounds for the soulful. I heard about James from Big Toe, and have yet to pick up the album. I've been tempted to download it. I was actually thinking this morning that I should get the CD soon before it gets huge and Tower decideds to over price it. But with new artist, I don't mind spending the dough. So there I was, walking past Borders by random chance during my lunch break and there is a small poster up saying, "Leela James: Live performance and CD signing. Thursday July 28th @ 12:30." The Borders I'm talking about is on the corner of 18th and L, across the street from Mackey's. Why was I all the way down there you ask? An off chance comment from my new co-worker, David who said Sports City had baseballs on sale. No luck with baseballs, but the walk was not in vain.

I caught her video, "Music" on VH1 soul one late night and thought it was awesome. I've also been listening to the CD courtesy of her website as well. Great beats and a beautiful voice. OKAY PLAYER did a pretty good feature on her as well. I'll just be taking an extended lunch break Thursday then.

Cheers to Tubing

Who would have thunk that West Virginia is such a cool place?

I went tubing today at a place called Butt's Tubing Incorporation...really, check it out, yo (http://www.buttstubes.com/).

Now it's been about a little bit more than a year since I've been to a beach, lake, or even left the city for anything woodys. Which explains why this guy was so excited to see rocks, grass and trees! I saw trees, a whole forrest of them! I hadn't even stepped out of the car yet and I was more excited then the first time I saw boobs...well, almost more excited.

It was awesome. A group of seven of us just floated down the Potomac drinking beer. There were some pretty harry situations. Al got a little too excited about getting on the river that she pulled us into the current while leaving behind three members of the group. We left Rennie bleeding on a rock at one point without a tube. I had to act like an anchor for a while. The highlight must have been our first stop on a rock. First of all, it's hard as shiat to pull a group of seven tubes and three coolers cross currents and onto a rock. Second of all, beer does not help coordination. So we have landed thanks to Carly who beached herself and her tube onto the rock. As we are about to head back into the river, Mary Beth slips into the water, Jackie decides to jump in to save her, and James after thought decides to put down his beer and jump into save both of them. As Mary Beth continues to float into oblivion, Jackie is completly being taken out to sea as well. The top of the cooler falls in and that goes as well. So James gets over ambitious and goes after the cooler top, Mary Beth and Jackie. No luck. Yours truly managed to grab Jackie, who held out her foot for Mary Beth, who pretty much rescued James. And yes, we also got the cooler top on. Why was I sucessful you ask? I held onto a piece of the rock...So I wouldn't end up floated down stream like the Three Stoogies.

I loved it. I want a cabin in West Virginia so I can go there every weekend. I even calculated how much of a commute it would be to DC, just incase.

It was a perfect day. Looking into the green hills while floating down a river on a Sunday in July made me realize how insignificant my problems really are. It also made me wish I could share a day like that with a certain someone...hmm, I'm a dork. The river itself gave us a ride. There were some peaceful, tranquil moments. There were rocky bumps and rapids. There were crazy adreneline pumping drops. It's like life. We're always moving forward. The point is to enjoy the ride...and keep your butts up when you're going over rapids.

Other Happenings

Talib Kweli @ the 9:30 Club on Aug 19th. $10. Tickets go on sale 7/23.

I won't be able to go cause I'll be partying with the homies in the Dolph.

So I talked to my Mom today

I have this nieghbor, Mrs. Tynes who I use to shovel snow and mow the lawn for. She's probably 70 years old by now. She had blue eyes, lives by herself and she's black. This is significant because she is one of the first black families in Randolph. I think we were the first Vietnamese family in Randolph. Anyway, everytime I went over there she always refered to my mom as the beautiful girl. Tha'ts how I always saw my mom. You know how at family parties as a little kid, you recognize your parents with this majestic quality. I always saw my mom as that. She works hard too. I'm talking going to work at 3pm and not coming home till well after midnight. No, she's not a hooker. She works the night shift at a medical supply company doing assembly belt stuff. She got this job about a year ago and has been working massive overtime hours. I'm talking like 65-75 hours. She doesn't say why, but I'm sure it has a lot with my little sis going to NYU. I know they don't expect it, but I have this burning desire to spoil them as soon as I find my niche, my family that is.

My dad is from a bigger city and my mom is from a small village. I think my dad stole away my mom from another guy. at least those were the rumors I heard as a little kid when I went to Vietnam. It was also during a period of war, so love gets so intense. Two of the most powerful things are love and war. That's why I like that movie, "A very Long Engagement" so much. It explores the two and offers comedy to lighten it. So tagent after tagent, I get my nuturing and worrying side from my mom.

Seeing my mom and dad together makes me believe in love.

She worries. Every phone call, she ask me what I'm having for dinner, about girls, about work. You should see her once she's had a few drinks. She's a talker and a story teller. So is my dad. I got my ticket today, so I'll be seeing the fam in August.

Till then..

The story behind SyncOrSwim

“Synchronicities are people, places or events that your soul attracts into your life - to help you evolve or to place emphasis on something going on in your life.”

http://www.crystalinks.com/synchronicity.html

I discovered this concept while reading some essays by the great philosopher Carl Jung.

Sometimes we watch movies and read novels and somehow convince ourselves that these plots and twists are too conveniently coincidental. That real life is this massive organic explosion that makes no sense and we’re all just maggots climbing through to get the most food.

Synchronicity is the idea that nothing is an accident. That certain things that come into your life are suppose to for a reason. Think of the series of events that led you to where you are today. If I hadn’t had a teeth cleaning on a certain day five years ago, the thought of going to GWU would have never entered my mind. Why did I get so many scholarships from GW as opposed to any other school, making my decision easy? I would definitely not be here today. What if Australia (where my parents and family had applied for sponsorship as refugees) had accepted them instead of rejecting them. Would I have been born as Australian, or would have I been born at all? As random as things may seem (especially violence) there is poetry in everything we do. We are naturally drawn to it. How is it when you need hope the most, you meet someone that gives you that hope.

Synch or Swim? Synchronicities are just signs. It is up to the person receiving those signs to read them. We have free will. Free will is man’s gift and curse. That is why my Blog is named the way it is.

La Tasca and Baseball Pants

Apparently for Restaurant week, La Tasca is having all you can eat appetizers! The words all you can eat and all you can drink never really go well for the people who are hosting it…especially when I show up. Hmmm..Paella… It’s a good deal especially if you show up Thursday night for half-priced Sangria (until 9pm).

In other news, I hit the hell out of the ball last night at softball. First at bat, first pitch, first swing I got a two run Home Run. They were an intense team. Who wears baseball pants to slow pitch co-ed SOFTball? Anyway, bad fielding in the first inning on our part let up 13 runs in the first inning. Not proud of that, especially since I thought some of those balls to right field were foul. Then again, it’s slow pitch co-ed softball and we drink beer while playing. How upset can one get? If it weren’t for that first inning, I think we would have won.

I hate work. It gets in the way of my story writing.. So I’m cutting this short. Peace

How popular are you?

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/07/20/AR2005072002556.html

I don't think I'm even as popular as a certain big toe of someone's. Oh, Dat, you're pathetic.

The Woolly Mamouth Theatre Company

Check out this Play Company. They focus in on new young playwrites. Hopefully yours truly will one day get a play on their stage.

http://www.woollymammoth.net/

I haven't even seen a show yet, but i'm so Freaking excited. They have a deal that if you under 25, you can get tickets to any show for $10!! Believe you me, I'll be at every production at least once. I read a good review for their current production called "A Clean House."

My Father

I've had a lot of dreams about my Dad lately. I call him Ba, which means father in Vietnamese. He is a brillant man. Sometimes he is stubborn, very stubborn, but he is brillant. If he wants to do something, he picks up a guide, reads it, and with a lot of hard work it gets done.

A few years ago he remodeled our back yard. He had hired two guys to lay bricks and build some post for the entrance. Within a week of watching these two guys work and build a messed up post, my dad had fired them, got our money back and decided to do the whole project thimself. Of course with me as the manual laborer. By the end of that summer, we had a beautifully redone back yard, complete with South American imported flagstone walk ways. I was the laborer, but in my family we all help each other out. So every weekend that summer, my uncles and aunts would come over and we would work on the back yard and then BBQ, eat and drink. He has redone our basement, our kitchen, the living room, the bathroom. He can fix cars, my glasses, build a dog house. He does upholstery and funitre building for a living, but he can do so much more.

He's a gentle man as well. He has never raised his voice, always treats my mom like a queen and my sister like a princess and me like a prince. His cooking is better then any other cooking I have ever had.

He is a good man. He has always done the right thing. He works so hard and expects nothing.

He is a simple man. He likes fishing, cooking, drinking, watching the Patriots, and working with his hands.

He came to the US with my mom and his two sisters and younger brother. My one aunt is ten years older and my other aunt is not much younger then that. My mom is the same age as my dad and my uncle is four or so year younger then my dad. My dad was 20 when he left Vietnam. So it's hard to understand what they had to endure at such a young age. They spent three days at sea without food or water and ended up at a refugee camp in Maylasia. In Maylasia, they lived in a tent for six months before being sponsered by groups in Boston, MA. A year later I was born. He washed dishes at a chinese food restuarant, then worked at McDonalds, and then worked in car parts facility and then at an upholstery place.

I just want to make him proud.

Anyway.. I just want to put it out there that I miss ya, Ba.

Last Thursday's Happy Hour

So welcome to the new Blog. This I believe is my third attempt at keeping up with my regular writing. i have journals and write on scrapes of paper here and there, but my specialty has always been e-mails. I like the direct response. There are some wonderful e-mails out there written by yours truly. I should start writing letters and sending them out to random people. It'd be art in mail. I once read about artist who decorated envelops with their art and sent them out to random people. Sometimes the postman would like it so much, they would keep it for themselves (federal offense, I believe). Anyway, as a deviation from the drama in my life, I give you a much requested story of a certain company happy hour.

Everytime someone leaves the firm, we throw them an Irish funeral. Basically a going away party that involves lots of alcohol. Last Thursday it was for JS who is leaving the firm to attend law school at GW. She's a sweetheart. She's like my older sister, showing me the ropes of the job, offering me adivce on everything from work, life, careers and girls. So it was sad to see her go, but we are all happy for her.

It started off easily with vodka tonics, beers, and the whole appetizer menu @ Old Ebbit..great oysters, crab dip and shrimp cocktail and a great place to eat BTW. The whole office is there. J's roommate is there as well as some former Firm paralegals. It gets to be about 10pm and the hardcore drinkers are still there. I think I had Macullen 12 on the rocks and a few more Grey Goose tonics. And then someone gets the grand idea of taking shots. So we do shots. J looks over at me and says,"OMG, that is not suppose to be happening." I look over and there is Attorney M hooking up with intern M, who also happens to be a daughter of one of our clients. Like the bad angel on your shoulder, I'm so egging on the action. J is freaking out. Intern M also has a boyfriend. I love the drama. J is calling another attorney who may still be at the office to ask for advice. I'm busy talking to J's roommate and yelling "Go Attorney M." Who cares, right? I think the night ended at 1am after another shot of Soco and Lime.

Next morning, everyone is hung over. Attorney M is in Attorney C's office, who also happens to be the sexual harrassment coordinator, talking about something intense (I wonder what). Intern M is talking to me and claims blackout, mind you, I never said anything about the incident at the bar. I figure why be the jerk. While she claims black out at the bar, she also described the whole cab ride home and how the driver got lost. The whole time I'm thinking, you have a very selective memory. The best part of that morning was looking into Attorney M's eyes when he walked into my office and both acknowledging what he had done without ever talking about it, but as guilty as he feels, there was a glimmer of "yeah, I'm the shit" in his eyes. Last time we had happy hour at Old Ebbit, Attorney M took me to Camelot with another Attorney. We had to cut off Attorney at the strip club. He was wasted.

Good evening

Check..one..two..one..two. Cool.

Just a mic check to see if this thing is working.