The stinkin' cable company was supposed to come today.

They didn't. I am angry.

That is all.

I'm supposed to be in class.

Today, after my International Business class, I walk over to my Intro to Asian American Studies class and flop down on a chair in the back. I'm alternating between looking around and flipping through the syllabus, when mr. mike ulanday walks in.

A minute later, I come across a particular line of interest in the syllabus. I reach over and point it out: "There is a LOT of reading - be prepared to read at least 150 pages a week."

We look down at our syllabi again, look up at each other, and walk out of the class. I'm in the process of dropping it right now.

I guess I'll have to find some other way to expand my horizons this semester.

Men learn to love the person they are attracted to.
Women learn to be attracted to the person they love.

Is this true?

I love eating.

Yesterday I had a jumbo prawn cocktail, dungeness crab cakes in a mango vinaigrette, a clam chowder that was actually chock full of clams, and a dozen raw oysters from 3 different bays. IT WAS SO FRIGGIN GOOD. They were the best oysters I've ever eaten in my life. Everything was so fresh.

All this was outside by a port, and there was a gay wedding going on at this little boat about 60 feet away. The balloons were all pink and white and there were cross-dressers and men in pink and purple suits and everything.

School starts in 10 days.

I had a dream last night I was back in the dorms and sharing a room with 3 other people. It was horrible. They were these really grungy alternative living people and the lights were on all the time and they always had people over and I couldn't sleep. I was so frustrated.

When I woke up I was so relieved. I hope I never have to share a room again.

They play this game on Mix 96.5 in the morning called 'Do, Dump, and Marry.'

It's actually quite hilarious. They pick 3 celebrities and you have to say which one you'd dump, which one you'd marry, and which one you'd ... well, 'do'.

The whole point is to call in, pick your choices, and if you match with the radio stations' answers, or can change their minds with your reasoning, you win something.

For example, one man called in and had to decide between Monica Lewinsky, Martha Stewart, and Oprah. The guy ended up dumping Lewinksy (a no class tart), marrying Oprah (for money) and doing Martha (default. but still- ew). Another one was Angelina Jolie with a permanant 5 o'clock shadow, Winona Ryder 100 pounds heavier, or Tyra Reid bald. It was hilarious listening to these guys' reasonings.

Anyways, one day they had Pierce Brosnan, Antonio Banderas, and Hugh Jackman as the choices. I almost had a seizure; I was so excited. I'd definitely drop Banderas (dark and brooding is just not my type), but I had the hardest time deciding between Brosnan and Jackman. Almost harder than if I had to choose between Oprah and Martha Stewart.

007 and Wolverine... hmm. They're both extremely good looking, charming, and successful men. In the end I figured I'd flip a coin to decide who to marry and just and cheat on them both with each other.

On that note, it's a damn shame Pierce Brosnan won't play James Bond anymore. He was so perfect for the part. They're trying to decide now who will be the next James Bond. If Hugh Jackmen gets the part, I think I'll have another convulsion of joy.

I have a fetus!

I adopted a cute lil' poison fetus
from Fetusmart! Hooray fetus!

Thanks Connie.

Gay marriage, abortions, and Satan worship

Believe it or not, I'm actually quite conservative.

My co-workers poke fun at me for not wearing brighter colors, not wearing any make-up, and not wearing the large flashy earrings now in fashion (I am in costume jewelry, after all). My thoughts and views on things beyond politics, like family, morals, and relationships are actually quite traditional.

Yet I find that while I'm personally quite old-fashioned about a lot of things, I still extremely despise narrow-minded, conservative legislation like this.

I'm not a homosexual, but if I was, I sure as hell would like the right to marry whoever I wanted. If I choose to worship Satan, for that matter, I don’t see any reason why the government should be allowed to stop me.

I can not emphasize how much it annoys and angers me when conservatives try to control the private lives of Americans. What happened to the land of acceptance? Hell, you don't even have to accept it, just tolerate it. It amazes me that they'll let disgusting reality TV shows promoting flagrant promiscuity (between men and women, of course) air all night, but they won't allow gay and lesbian couples to marry?

What right does the Bush administration and his bigoted conservative followers have to force theiR religion, theiR view on what constitutes marriage, on the entire United States? “A marriage is a sacred union between man and woman” my a$$. If you ask me, a 50 percent divorce rate doesn’t exactly show that the men and women of America are really considering marriage a sacred institution anymore.

With all the messed up kids nowadays due to abusive, divorced, cheating, or workaholic parents, why are conservatives banning loving homosexual parents from adopting? I would rather be in a happy and consistent family with same sex parents than a dysfunctional one with the ‘proper’ mommy and daddy as parents.

How dare Bush tell gay couples that the fact that they want to spend the rest of their lives with each other is blasphemous? I’m frankly sick and tired of hearing him spout his relious views from his presidential pulpit. They’ve shitted on our privacy rights, preached incessantly, threatened a woman’s right to choose what happens to her body, and are now trying to prevent people with different sexual orientations from expressing devotion to one another. Why not just save his breath and just replace the entire Constitution with the Bible?

I have nothing against people themselves being conservative (or for that matter, Republican), and I applaud those who better their lives with faith (whatever denomination). I’m not arguing for homosexual unions, or abortion, or Satan worship. I’m arguing for the freedom to choose.

I don’t like my rights being taken away by the very institution that is supposed to protect them. Separation of church and state, please.

I didn't attend CYC this year.

When I realized that for the first time in 11 years, I was missing camp, I was upset. I thought I'd be ok with it; I was starting a new chapter in my life now - summers were for internships, job hunting, summer school. And all last week, even while I was at work knowing CYC 2004 was happening at the same time, I wasn’t as sad as I thought I would be. I missed it, but I was ok.

When I left work early to go to talent show on Friday Night, I was excited. I couldn’t wait to see the performances everyone had worked all week on, see my old campers grow yet another 6 inches, see the counselors and ac’s and friends. I was in a great mood all day.

When I watched the talent show, I was delighted.
There were so many funny and original talent shows, not to mention a great soundtrack this year. Some things about CYC talent shows will always stay the same: the younger groups were freaking adorable, the middle groups pre-teen awkward but funny in their own way, and the counselors just plain enjoyable.

When I went downstairs to embarrass and hug my 10 year cousin Angeline and half a dozen of her fellow campers asked if I was her mom, I was indignant. I may be too old for camp, but I am most certainty not old enough to have a child! It amazes me. Adults think I’m 13 and kids think I’m 30.

When returning counselors Sam, Jeff, and I were locked out of Old Ranch for the yearbook signing, I was disappointed.
The entire drive up I was looking forward to seeing my ‘kids’ again, and now it was 9 o’clock on a Friday in the Louisiana boonies with nowhere to go and nothing to do. We ended up going to Wal-Mart with the intention of buying poker chips and cards, but ended up with Monopoly and high sodium snacks instead. But the entire night wasn’t the same – I was angry and hurt beyond reason that I wasn’t allowed ‘back’ into camp. It was like after 5 years of being an AC, counselor and head counselor now meant jack shit. I was now just another person with no connection to camp at all. A person who stupidly arrived a day too early.

When the ‘adults’ were finally allowed to see the kids on Saturday morning, I was nonchalant. I no longer really cared, and just wanted the day to end so I could go home. I half-heartedly followed my family into the cafeteria for constipation/diarrhea inducing camp food before the closing ceremony started.

When 4 years of campers of different ages and heights (too many of them taller than me) yelled my name across the cafeteria and ran over for hugs, I was exultant. Every other feeling just faded away. Face after familiar face faded in and out for the rest of the afternoon, but that warm feeling never went away. I would’ve driven 10 hours for 10 minutes of those smiles and hugs.

Up until that point, I had felt so physically and emotionally left out of camp that I regretted every minute I was still up in stinky ‘ol Louisiana. Now I know that not literally being at camp this year didn’t make me any less of a part of it. I had done my job the past few years– and the kids remembered. That’s all I can ask for.

People who have never been to CYC will never understand.
But those who have – those that stay up late the night after CYC ends in chatrooms on aim with people you’ve seen 24-7 for the past 7 days, those who’s profiles say ‘CYC is over’ and ‘I miss camp’ for months after, those who count the days until the same time next year, will always understand - long after attending - that wistful feeling leaving camp invokes in all of us, be it permanently or just for the year.

As I was watching the closing ceremony yesterday, it hit me how much camp means to us. Every year people cry while they’re leaving, and the parents watching and friends back home you try to explain it to wonder why. What the heck is so special about a one week Chinese youth camp? Yes, we learn our culture and meet lifelong friends and all, but it’s more. More than what you learn about your heritage and whom you gain as friends, it’s what you learn about yourself at camp that impacted me most of all.

In a society where Asians basically fit into the nerd or ghetto category in school, camp held so many more choices of personalities for all of us. I don’t know what it was like for anyone else, but for me, going to predominantly all white schools, meant you rarely ever saw an Asian class clown, an Asian prom queen, an Asian star athlete, an Asian cheerleader, or an Asian musician (unless you were in orchestra). If you were Asian, you were either smart and in honors class, or you had spiky hair and chain-smoked.

But camp provided a milieu for you to break out of those stereotypes and become whoever you were or wanted to be. At camp we had more of a chance to express, define and shape ourselves. The graceful shine in dance class, the comical during talent show, the athletic in dodge ball, the artistic in arts and crafts, and so on. For one week out of the year, we late-to-bloom Asians could go to dances, bond and gossip, flirt and get rejected, learn, grow and experience. Yes, it sounds all very similar to what you could get from school, but it’s not the same thing. At camp, race was not a factor. There were still cliques and all, but at least you all had something in common.

There's still so much about CYC that I will never be able to explain, but in short; CYC has given me memories, friends, lessons, and most importantly, a sense of belonging in a very confusing world. I will always be grateful.