study break?

Earlier tonight I was studying in Mr. Edwin Alderman's café. I was quietly sipping my FREE latte courtesy of a friend at Greenberry's (grazie molto!) when I noticed something that just made me think...question mark?

A guy walks in the café with a head of lettuce. He breaks the shrink wrap and rips away the stem. He sits down in an easy chair and proceeds to rip pieces of the head of lettuce to eat. At the same time he is listening to his iPod, just smiling.

Finals' week is truly prime time for questionable stuff to occur.

fourth/first year frivolity

Today was fun.

Church was refreshing.
Mr. Harry Clemons made me sick with the "3 Fs" (I really need to hit up other places, rediscover my old favorites).
A random singing of the chorus to "Purple Rain" allowed for random laughter to be shared with complete strangers. (I did not sing this. I hate this song.)
An apple on the ground turned into a game of Apple Soccer, also with complete strangers.
Random yearnings and spontaneous musings turned into a food fight. (Hopefully we're not banned from unnamed place of eating...)
Stargazing after mentioned food fight.

Today was a good day. Thank You Lord!

lack of assiduousness

The first year in me was right.

Never study in the huge libraries during finals, especially 2nd floor of Clemons. Against my better judgment I am doing just that. As I sit here with my books open trying to study and listening to Liszt, I see and hear a plethora of things.

A massive Econ study group is going on with the moderator, most likely a TA, loudly dictating the ups and downs of the economic strife of Africa and Asia. A group of people huddled over a laptop watching THE soccer/football game. Apparently UVA won the national championship. Wahoowa? As well as the nonsense transgressing in front of me in the mouths and actions of my dear friends... awww man.

1 Timothy 4:12...listen to them young folks.

revelations in the night

I haven't seen daybreak at UVA yet, but daggone it, I'm getting close to it.

Staying true to being the perpetual night owl, I am up yet again but being more productive than usual.

I get an email at about 1:30am from my professor saying I'm missing some assignments and if I could email them in before noon the next day, they'd bump my grade up. Oh I pray that in the future that I'm not so greedy...

All the while I'm hesitant to go. It's 20 degrees outside, I'm tired, and it's only a few points???

At a quarter to 3, I'm on my way to see Mr. Harry Clemons, the only other soul on UVA grounds who would be up as late as I am and the only place with working scanners at this time of night.

In reference to an earlier post, you really do experience/see strange things from the hours of 2-4am. An ATM wildly flashing lights. A half bag of hamburger meat near a bike rack. Dancing in the street because there are no cars for miles around. (Ok, that was me this time.)

I work and turn in the stuff at 3:30am...I begin to think about what ultimately led to this moment in time......PROCRASTINATION. Stockpiling of it throughout the semester culminating into this one point in time.

To add insult to injury, it is a constant evil that keeps haunting most people (me for that matter) and has a tendency to come back and bite. Hard.

This time not so hard. Dear Lord, help me be better at fighting this...

speakin/spittin

Lately I've been watching a lot of Def Poetry...on top of writing papers. The rawness of each poet is at times just that, raw. Almost needless to say from what I've watched, it's all been good.

Spoken word convey so much meaning and I, at many times, fail to write and speak so eloquently.

It got me thinking. Back to the beginning. God speaking creation into existence. "Let there be light", and there was light. How mind-boggling is that. One speaks and it happens.

Whoever said that sticks and stones nonsense, ain't know what they was talkin' about.

Firsts

The first of anything is always something to be reckoned with.

The first line of a sentence. The first line of a paper. The first line of a book.

The first of the month could mean when you get paid or when rent is due.

The first is always something you never forget.

On this first day of December, I've decided to read the Good Book from the first book and on to the last. Ironically, this is not the first time I've done this but would be my third. I do remember the first time was not so successful. Got bogged down in Jeremiah. Second time, it was completed. Hoping third is a charm.

As with any firsts, I was reminded of how God first created everything. I also noticed a bunch of other stuff that I didn't pick up in Sunday school as well.

God was the first fashion designer. He made clothes for Adam and Eve when He gave them the boot out of Eden.

Joking aside, like I said before, God made the first of everything not of human hands. The first flower. The first grain of salt. The first penguin. The first mountain. The first people. You get the picture.

This was pointed out to me sometime ago but I was reminded when I read this. Adam and Eve were the first humans to see God. They saw Him and talked to Him. They were so close as to hearing God's footsteps in Eden. They were that tight.

Yet we as people messed it all up. Nonetheless, we know there is hope. This was also pointed out to me sometime ago and yet again was reminded of it when reading Genesis. Every now and then, in the first 3 chapters you read something about God mentioning "us" and "we". Who is this "Us" and "We"???

the adventure home?

Like any holiday traveling, it always seems to involve some kind of stress. This time traveling home was just that.

My friend and I prayed for the trip home and roll out of Cville at about 5pm or so and, on the way back to the 757 we are blasting Motown and some more music of that age. We are about 10 miles outside Richmond when I get a call.

Our other friend's car has broken down in Shannon Hill. "Shannon Hill? I hope y'all are ok. Let me know if y'all need anything."

A few minutes later, my friend and I were thinking out loud and we decide to head back and get them. Thank the Lord, my passenger got GPS.

Shannon Hill is located in Goochland County which is about 30 miles southeast of Cville. What we didn't know at the time was that this meant "in the middle of nowhere". The whole time we are looking for our stranded friend, their passenger, and car, I had my high beams on. All we saw, mile upon mile, were roads and trees. We eventually saw houses but no street lights whatsoever. Who are these brave souls that live out here?

What seemed like an eternity of dark roads and trees, we see the tow truck and car. The whole time as we were looking for our friend, 2 cars were following ever so closely behind us on a 2 lane road. Oooh, sirs why do you all make this even harder? I pull over to the right some ways past our friend's car so I could turn back around on this itty bitty road.

What I didn't see was this GIANT ditch I had went into. Thankfully, it wasn't too deep, but boy did we get stuck in it for a while. Thankfully again, I pull out of this GIANT ditch.

I get back on the road again to go towards their car and go yet into ANOTHER ditch. Daggone it! Why are there so many ditches? We all pile into my car and wait for the tow truck to pull off.

Right before I get to driving again, I made sure we prayed. I now understand more and more why some preachers pray for at least 2 hours a day. It is needed! Smooth sailing from then on.

Take away points? You better have a WHOLE lot of PRAYER before and after a trip back home.

one of THOSE days...

It started at 2:45am. I'm no stranger to this time of night, we see each other on a regular basis. Not in this instance. Driving around Charlottesville looking for somewhere to park, legally that is.

Following me through a green light at an intersection is a cop. No big deal, just making rounds and patrolling. He flashes his lights, I pull over. "Do you know why I pulled you over?" I honestly think he pulled me over because I was driving so slow thinking about where and looking for parking. "No, sir." What he says next I'm not even sure if I heard correctly and still confused about. Not stopping at the intersection? Wasn't the light green? Didn't you follow me through the green light too????? Not going to contest it, I'm tired and frustrated at this parking situation.

"I'm letting you off with a warning." "Thank you sir, have a good night! Oh, one question. Do you know where I can park, I don't have a permit pass?" I've checked everywhere by this point. I've spent the last hour trying to find an open garage or places where I won't get towed since I didn't have one.

"You can park on Lewis Mountain Road." You can't park there. They have HUGE signs that say "PERMITS ONLY". "Thank you!" Not really. I make my rounds one more time. No such luck, of course. I'm tired, I park in Lambeth and walk back home. It's 3am but it's not too far, just a ways up.

4:15pm, I make my way back to Lambeth. Please be no ticket, please be no ticket. Too much of that wishful thinking, because I see orange and white under a windshield wiper. Fine=$0, it's a warning ticket.

7:30pm, I had parked behind Clark because there still has been no parking at "IHOP". This is really irritating. It's raining and I come to another intersection. It appears I've gone out too far into street, so I put my car in reverse. BOOM! I still have whiplash even as I type this. I ask, "Sir, are you ok?" "I'm fine, it's nothing really." "Alright then, thanks and have a good night!"

Three instances where stuff could have possibly been a lot worse. Nope, God had my back. I was shown grace again and again. From this, I realize again and again that in moments of despair we need not run from Him but towards Him. He is FOREVER good and gracious. My neck doesn't hurt as much now.

night owling

Night owls, nighthawks, burning the midnight oil, etc. etc.

I think the only reason I stay up is out of habit more so than insomnia. Daggone A-school set me up! Besides that, strange stuff happens from the hours of 2-4am. Strange thoughts also tend to occur at this time of night too.

Like me trying to blog at an unearthly hour. I'm going to stop rambling before this already incoherent writing and bad grammar continues to transgress...

a symphony of randomness

Yesterday was interesting. Interesting in that I'm still surprised by the little things in life that God has strategically placed in order to help me find Him.

At dinner last night, I overheard a conversation that caught me so off guard. Diana Ross and the Supremes were playing in the background and this girl at the table beside mine said, "Is this Southern music?" Ohhh, that statement hurt me heart and soul! I couldn't eat for a while after that. How could she not know who they were? MOTOWN?!?!? But alas, people just don't know.

I was walking back home and I crossed by Dell Pond. The thing about Dell Pond is that it is inhabited by 3 ducks and a goose, which I had taken the liberty sometime ago to name them the "Gang of Four". So, anyway I see they have settled for the night except one. One of the ducks was still awake and he raises one leg and kicks back. In that one motion I heard a sound. FFFPT. Did this duck just fart??? Ah, I was in tears the rest of the way back!

Last night was also the Leonid Meteor Shower. Never passing up a moment to see one of God's many wonders in action and being a somewhat fervent stargazer myself, you bet I was out there scouring the skies. The skies however were cloudy when I came out. I came out every hour to see if they had cleared. Nope. Disappointment ensues.

These instances brought up so many emotions and yet I look back and smile. I saw God. YES!

Old School

As the years go by I realize more and more how "old" I am. This is not necessarily a bad thing, just something I've learned to embrace over the years. With that being said, this old schoolness has carried over into my tastings of music.

I really don't like this stuff people have the nerve to call "music" on the radio lately. I've slowly distanced myself from the music that pop culture deems that I must like and approve of. True, every now and then I do like to expand my musical tastes and I do, very seldom now, like the occasional new song, but like I said before this stuff they playin' ain't music. So now I find myself enamored with stuff from the old school. All kinds of old school.

The "oldest" of old schoolness would be that of classical music. No words, just pure genius in sound. I've realized more and more that I have an almost obsessive predilection for Chopin. That is not to say everything else in classical genre isn't good, because it's ALL GOOD!

Motown, the Beatles, and stuff from the 60s and 70s have struck a chord with me in the past, but now more so than before. It's just something about these 20 so years that really inspired good music. Marvin Gaye, Elvis, and stuff like 鄧麗君 (Teresa Teng, yes even stuff from the Motherland) have almost been on repeat constantly.

Hymns and old school gospels (especially by Mahalia Jackson) have been on my mind too. It's something about this music that really captures the heart and soul that goes into the worship of Our Beautiful Savior. Nothing like the old stuff to praise the Lord. Amen, Hallelujah!

As I mourn the current situation, I still hope somewhere down the line music will be good again. For now...I know that a man ain't supposed to cry, but these tears I can't hold inside. Losin' you would end my life you see......

a question of Asianness

If you meditate long enough lots of thoughts pass through your mind and if you sit in a café long enough you hear a lot conversations go on.

As I was writing my paper a couple days earlier, I overheard this conversation amongst Americans. Amongst this group of Americans was a Chinese American. As I struggled to write and as their conversation progressed I heard one of the American ask the Chinese American to speak Chinese. At this point I had to laugh to myself and thought back to how many times in my younger days was I asked this question.

In the past when I was asked this question I would oblige the inquirer from time to time, but it would irk me that they would ask me. Do not get me wrong, I am very proud of my heritage and culture and flaunt it when I can. It is just the fact that it still surprises me when my ethnicity/heritage/culture is called into question. At the same time I am glad to know that people refuse to stay ignorant of other cultures and want to broaden their scope of the world.

From this instance I will ever more proudly flaunt and uphold the traditions of my people. 華人萬歲!!!

writing about writing

As of this week I write furiously to finish a paper, but also in the midst of paper writing I always take time to reflect. This is a confession of sorts.

I will miss being a college student (I know, I know. Again with this nostalgia.) and sometimes envy the life of a writer. Sometimes. Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting with my friend on the second floor of Arch's. She was studying for exams and I was writing my paper and had the impulse to write this blog. So truth be told, (another confession) I'm basically copying my handwritten version of it. But that's beside the point.

When will I have the leisure again to kick back? As I write this I'm slowly eating away at a sandwich, sipping on some tea, and finishing my last bit of frozen yogurt. mmm. Hopefully, when I get to retire despite all these horror stories of my generation in the U.S. who cannot possibly retire because our Social Security has run out or something of that matter.

But in this I realize it is these little things that one must embrace and indulge on from time to time. So go out and eat ice cream, smell the roses, impulse shop (not too much though), jump in rain puddles, etc. etc. These are the things that make life sweet.

a cooking lesson

I've been doing this college thing for some time now but just now remembered to document "a college moment."

I've done so in the past but I haven't lately, and so I begin my story. It's about 10:30pm on a Thursday night and school's been out for a while now for the older kiddies. I'm still bumming around Cville because I'm doing summer session and trying to lighten my workload come next semester. So one of my grad student friends comes over to the apartment I'm staying at and starts cooking this beef dish. He said he was coming over earlier to cook and I was like, "Go crazy." As he is cooking, one of my roommates who also is a grad student starts making brownies and cuts up some watermelon. As I am writing this the aromas of soy sauce and chocolate are mixing and permeating through the living room.

Now I realize this is nothing out of the ordinary. Just two people cooking in the kitchen at 10:30 at night. If it were a "regular" household, people would be winding down for the night. Nope, we were cooking and possibly going to eat again.

It is in this moment that I will miss the college life.

Amazing Grace

The grace of God is so beautiful. Words really cannot do this concept any justice. I can only relate an instance in my life to only a sliver of to how great it is. So this past spring semester I took this math class. I hate math, but this is a necessary evil that I had to endure. Since it was a necessary evil, I did not do too pretty and by that I mean failing.

Now I have to qualify what I mean by failing, since I am a person of two cultures. This is not "Asian failing" where you get a "B" or the inconceivable "C" and you're disowned and declared as not worthy of anything. NO! This is straight up, "Am I going to have to take this class again and will I get high enough on the exam so I can pass the class?" kind of failing. Naturally, I was ever anxious and was studying like crazy for the final.

After that monster of an exam was said and done, all I could do was wait. A couple days after the monster had shown its face, I saw the instructor for the class among the stacks of DVDs at the library. The first thing she said to me was I did not fail. This is somewhat disheartening when first hearing, but I'd talked with her previously about my chances of passing this class. She told me bluntly, which I had asked her to, that I was pretty much screwed if I didn't pass this exam. One can imagine how ecstatic and grateful I was upon hearing that I had passed. She was too. Although it shows up as D- on my transcript, I praise the Good Lord above for it.

In my moments of desperation, I was shown an instance of grace. I celebrate in the fact that I don't have to take anymore math in college and that I passed! Oooh, oooh, how amazing and sweet grace is!

Green-Eyed Monster

Jealousy has its ways of rearing its unwelcomed head every now and then. It just so happens that it has been happening to me a lot more lately.

I've been hearing a lot lately from random people ranting about how they were so close to getting an "A". Given, I used to be the same way, but after sometime of continuous humbling in college I've honestly become a bit bitter every time I hear someone rant about this.

To add insult to injury, I've lately been reminded of what people can do and what I cannot do. At the same time, I've also been reminded of what I have and don't have. So one can imagine how bitter I am not.

But through bitterness and jealousy, I've come to realize more and more of how imperfect I am and in a broader sense how imperfect people are. That is not to say that I'm better for it. No, far from it, it is just a reminder of how much more that I have to be grateful for what the Good Lord has already given me.