Long-form

Long-form blog posts and editorials. Topics cover both personal and the world at large. 

Nowhere to go but everywhere - 2016 reflections

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Feels like I’m going to die soon. 

Currently I’m desperately close to the arbitrary threshold of turning the age of 30 that these days it momentarily and opportunistically scares the crap out of me, like a horrible psychosomatic reaction. Am I running out of time? What’s this arbitrary wall I can’t seem to see over and beyond? Even though statistically I’ve still got enormous amounts of years ahead of me, just what makes that infamous age 30 threshold such an imposing force? As Joey Tribbiani said in Friends: “Why, god? Why?”

Perhaps it’s normal at all to feel this way. But damn, if it’s that horrific now, what happens when the clock strikes 40? Or 50? I may need a psychiatrist on retainer.  

TIME

Time is the only commodity we have.

Money you can always make more, but once time is gone, it’s never ever coming back. At least not until they invent a time machine.

I’ve still got one solid year to go before the carriage turns into a pumpkin and I’m on the other side of the Great Wall of 30, but that panic has already arrived, at age 28, more than a year premature if you ask me. Is time up for me? It’s as if I’ve been struck down with a terminal disease and only then started doing a reflection on life and realize what so little I’ve done and what so much more yet I want to accomplish.

Silly looking back at it now, because of course I haven’t got a terminal illness, and it’s a disservice to those that actually has them.

In a twisted way, then, the turning of 30 barrier might be a blessing; you get all the emotions and positive peripheral side effects of an incurable disease, but you know, without all the dying at the end. Take the opportunity to reevaluate your life, and set a new path forward.

That’s precisely what I did.

Or rather, what I continued to do since the latter parts of 2015. The epiphany struck earlier than this year (alas I think about the future way too soon). In last year’s year-end blog post, I wrote about the self-critique and evaluation that’s already been done; 2016 was simply a matter of continuation, improvement, and concentration.

It’s making up for lost time.

All those countless hours (amounting to many, many days) binge-watching television shows, re-watching them, playing video games, reading pointless articles, umpteenth blog, the numerous YouTube channels, hundreds of baseball games, et cetera et cetera: what a complete waste of time that all were. Where’s the investment, where’s the enrichment? Them modern person needs entertainment from time to time, but when it dominates the entirely of your off-work life, then it’s a problem. May not be one for you, but it indeed is for me.  

I gave it all up. Well, most of it.

I reflected on what I should have done these past few years in lieu of all the hours spent on mindless entertainment, and I arrived at three legs of a tripod holding up the aspiration of self-enrichment: learning, books, and travel.

I must caveat to say that (hopefully) this isn’t just me desperately clinging on to whatever vestige of youth. The fact that I’m Asian means I’ve already got that covered. The occasional carding for an R-rated movie at the theatres is always amusing.

So, learning, then.

LEARNING

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One of the issues of post academia life (i.e. getting a job) is that for the most part unless you’re in the class of people working on technology and engineering products (or doctors, scientists, lawyers and the like), you kind of coast along in your job, doing repetitive work day after day. That’s certainly the case for me, where helping professors connect laptops to projection systems in classrooms never really change all that much, even with Apple continuing to cut out ports and forces us to buy more and more adapters every year.

It’s not exactly intellectually challenging; once you’ve retained knowledge of what the job demands, you can then coast along, day after day. That brain exercise I used to get from the days in academia is gone, and watching television and playing video games during non-work hours certainly doesn’t help the situation (though I still argue hand-eye coordination is a necessary skill that video games provide for youths of the world – and gamers well into their adulthoods like myself).

Much like the body that requires regular amounts of exercise, so does that brain of ours. The lack of stimulation leads to atrophy, and that my friends, is how you die. I believe a huge reason retirees struggle with post-work life and seemingly age exponentially after they’ve stopped working is specifically because their brains no longer receive the proper amount of exercise. As many a wise person have said, learn and you’ll live forever; or is it learning like you’ll live forever. It’s probably the latter, but I’ll cling to the former.  

I had to pick something to study, to learn, and the selection was immediate: I’d (finally) tackle the Korean language. Being bilingual is cool (and every one should strive to be so), but trilingual is that much more awesome.

After countless years of enjoying the music from Korea and numerous variety shows and television dramas from the country, learning the Korean language was something I should’ve endeavored many moons ago. It’s logical: if I am to continue to enjoy the media products from Korea, it’d be that much more gratifying if I understood the dialect and weren’t beholden to English or Chinese subtitles.

So I bought a textbook and begin teaching it to myself.

Yes, no secret formula, no classes at a community college (the local one didn’t offer Korean, otherwise I probably would have), no private tutor. It’s just me, the textbook, copious amounts of college-ruled notebook pages, and finally, about four hours of time per day, every single day. In the finest example of Alexander Hamilton and Napoleon Bonaparte, being an autodidact is an immensely rewarding enterprise.

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Being that Korean is my third attempt at acquiring a language, and one not super imposed upon me like it English was, the dynamic was completely different. I wasn’t beholden to a pace set by neither a teacher nor the need to acquire the language as quickly as possible. In hindsight, learning English was not fun at all because half the time I was frightened to tears, what with being in a brand new country, an entirely new culture, and having to attain proficiency as quickly as possible to be sociable and assist my parents (I was EIGHT). Absent comparable external forces and pressures, learning Korean was a vastly more amiable task, one in which I can go at my own pace, and not having to worry about mistakes relegating me to a poorer grade on the record card, or not being able to order fries at a McDonalds.

It was incredibly liberating, and I believe, the appropriate way to learn. Away from the pressures of academia and under your own volition is the utmost prime opportunity for deep and rewarding study (imagine that).

The sheer amount of time and energy involved in learning a language also made me realize just why my parents found it so difficult to learn English, and in the case of my mother, never did. Being a young and poor immigrant family meant both my parents had to worry more about putting food on the table than any earnest effort in learning English. Plus the fact we immigrated to San Francisco meant the sizable Chinese population allowed my parents to not have to use English in every day life. The lack of immersion and lack of hours available to devote to learning a language completely prevented my parents to speak the common tongue of this country, though I guess we’re all switching to Spanish in the near future, aren’t we.

The reason I never learned Japanese properly whilst taking classes during high school was strictly due to the lack of time dedicated. I had to juggle six other classes worth of course-load, thus that lone hour of the day spent in class and that hour of homework everyday (ha!) isn’t going to cut through any of the material and give it appropriate attention. The relative ease in which I’m ascertaining Korean led me to question why Japanese wasn’t as so, and it all concludes back down to time. To learn a language you’ve got to spend a good chunk of your day towards it, and there are no days off. One shouldn’t treat weekends as days off or vacations anyways.

That is, unless you truly are taking a vacation.

Thusly, in order to study Korean, I had to give up other activities of leisure. I practically stopped watching television shows sans a few (no way was I going to miss the Gilmore Girls revival), I no longer watch Giants baseball broadcasts, and the Playstation 4 has only been turned on during the year for the periodic firmware updates (why I bothered with even that, I’m not entirely sure). The few spare hours I’ve got after work on until I go to sleep was all dedicated to language study. Funny how when you’re so singularly focused on one thing and you have to discard other to make room, and yet afterwards you find that you don’t really miss the things you’ve relinquished. Stranger Things and Westworld? I’ve no desire to watch them, no matter how well reviewed they are. 

Allocate 50 hours for a Japanese RPG? It can wait.  

I reckon it’s a good metaphor for life: focus on a few things, and do those few things incredibly well. You may say variety is the spice of life, but who says you can’t make variety from within those few things you’ve chosen to do really well? I read an enormous variety of books, and after learning Korean I’ll surely move on to studying another, perhaps a fourth language, or music theory. There’s so much on offer, enough to induce selection paralysis.

An autodidact as I may aspire to be, I wouldn’t be able to learn Korean with only a book and a pen without the amazing assistance from the Internet; major kudos to the Naver app, Wiktionary.com, and the KBS World YouTube channel. It goes without saying, the web has opened up so many opportunity and resources for learning, and it’s mostly absolutely free. Practically anything you want to study, the Internet has it for you. In that respect, the world is quite figuratively your oyster.

The sense of accomplishment of that first instance when I watched a Korean television program without subtitles was complete magic. It made all those four-hour days instantly worth the price of admission.

BOOKS

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During times I’m not frantically immersed in Korean studies, I spent it on books. It is said that the successful people of the world all read at least a book per month, if not more. Suffice it to say, I’m not successful at all, but in order to become so meant I must follow that adage and read plenty of books. Good thing I’ve already started on this towards the latter parts of 2015, and 2016 upped the ante tremendously.

Forget a book a month: I aimed for one a week.

Books allow you to borrow the minds and experiences of other people, to learn from them, especially the historical greats (I’m hugely anticipating getting into the biography of Winston Churchill, some 30 books down the queue – yes humble brag). No matter it be fiction or nonfiction, every book provides the occasion to open your mind to something new, different, life affirming, or life changing. And movies based on books are always better enjoyed after you’ve read the original text. If the movie is great, the experience is improved, and if the movie sucked, well you still got the books to cling to (like Twilight, probably). 

It was ambitious for sure, but for the first few months of the year, I was hitting that book-a-week mark with ease. That’s owing to the fact I didn’t start studying Korean until April, and with that advent of that, the book reading almost grounded to a thorough halt. I was right back down to the “standard” one book per month until the autumn season, during which I was able to take the foot off the gas a smidgen on studying Korean, and divert more time allocation to books.  

So for the whole of the year, it ended up being one book every two weeks. 70/30 split of non-fiction and fiction.

I buy actual, tangible books because who doesn’t like the smell of fresh books, and I annotate the heck out of them, pen and highlighter style. It isn’t the most efficient use of space, but I simply don’t find the same pleasure in touching a tablet to flip to the next page. Though it must be said, Kindle does make it easier to collate your annotations together; with physical books I’ve got to type out everything if I were to gather up notes.

Buy paper books, and support your local bookstores. They are places of extinction level numbers yet so magical that Amazon, the guys who literally killed the physical bookstore, now has a physical bookstore in Seattle. Mustn’t underestimate the allure and smell of book stacks and coffee beans.

Notable books I’ve read this year:

Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow: the book that inspired Lin-Manual Miranda to write the ever-popular musical for coastal-elites. I for one cannot wait to watch the musical when it comes to San Francisco next year (got tickets!). But like me, you should read the book first beforehand. The book is a fascinating expose of Hamilton, from his birth outside of States, to his infamous death at the hands of Aaron Burr in New York. The one thing that strikes me most about the founding father was that Hamilton was an autodidact, and a large part of his brilliance in the creation of the Treasury Department and writing the Federalist Papers was self-taught.

The Private Life of Chairman Mao, by Dr. Li Zhisui, and Deng Xiaoping and the Transformation of China, by Ezra Vogel: being Chinese, I was rather interested in how modern China came to be the world juggernaut it is today, and there was no better place to start than the biographical accounts of these two major figureheads. Mao is widely celebrated as the founder of the People’s Republic, but in actuality he almost ran it into the ground. It’s scary to think modern China was so dangerously close to the realities of North Korea (Mao did had a male son, mind you), and the world is better for it didn’t.

The person to thank for that is Deng. His reformation and push for the advancement of the Chinese economy is the critical factor in elevating China into the world’s second foremost superpower. A prudent and logical man, he had none of Mao’s emotional tendencies, and was open to any ideas so long as it moved the country forward. While today it may be Mao’s picture that adorns the centerpiece in Tiananmen Square, I say for what Deng has done for China, it should be his likeness instead. Mao nearly ran the China into the ground, and Deng saved it.

On the Road, by Jack Kerouac: Kerouac’s magnum opus shows a romantic view of contemporary nomadic life, traveling throughout the country, finding your roots and plying a trade no matter the town Sal Paradise ended up in. It isn’t the most polished of books, and the story has a few congruency issues, but the crux of what I got out of On the Road is what I surmise what many others did as well: the love of the open road, travel, and endless exploration.

The Big Short, by Michael Lewis: nobody can linguistically weave and tell a story like Michael Lewis, and his retelling of the 2008 financial disaster is a must-read if you care the slightest about your money. While the big banks and other financial players were definitely at fault for the colossal amounts of bogus mortgages and their derivative trades that brought down the American economy, ordinary Americans who made those mortgage without any financial understanding should also bear some brunt of the blame (I’m quite Republican in many ways). Financial literacy really ought to be a required course in high school. I’d have so much money now than the pittance I’ve got if that were the case.

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The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, by Mark Manson: ah yes, as we grow older, the amount of fucks we allocate to give out dwindles to but a tiny few. This book provides a guide to how to best allocate those fucks, so as to not waste time and energy (and time is a terrible thing to waste). What I got out of this book is that life can be streamlined to be a series of problems, problems for you to solve and fix. As you untangle the webs and finish each problem, you gain life’s satisfaction, and then you move on to the next challenge. Simplify, compartmentalize, and move forward.

Use death (and the fear of it) as the ultimate motivation to do and perform, and perhaps you’ll end up making something so remarkable that it will outlast your own atoms. That is the true marker of immortality, at least until scientists figure out how to truly perform such feat.

Tools of Titans, by Tim Ferriss: I refer this book as the self-help/improvement encyclopedia. Tim Ferriss have really done a number in amassing such a collection of wits, wisdom, and useful life-hacking tips. If you ever find yourself needing that extra bit of motivation, guidance, or general pick-me-up, this book is immensely beneficial. Of the many inspirations, Tools of Titans started me on taking magnesium as a supplement.

On the shortness of life, by Seneca: perhaps Seneca’s greatest piece of writing. For those of you thinking life is too short and you feel like you haven’t “lived”, this book is the golden ticket to unlocking the how and the why life really is quite sufficiently long (it’s after all the longest thing we’ll ever do), given you know the appropriate manner in how to live it. It boils down to giving up materialistic and trivial pursuits; learn from the pass whilst focusing on the present, and carpe diem the fuck out of every single day. This short yet succinct tome just may be the most important book I’ve read this year, and I keep referring back to it anytime I feel off the tracks, so speak.

PHOTOGRAPHY

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With so much time dedicated to reading and learning another language, you’d think I’ve completely neglected my principle hobby of the last half-decade - photography - and you’d be right. I still very much enjoy taking the occasional pictures, but I simply don’t have time to slot in photographic excursions. That is pure excuse of course, because had I wanted to, I could have totally fit it in, but alas, hobbies and interest come and go, and photography looks be one of them.

These days it’s only during my travels that I break off the rust and partake in the joy of photography. Those self-made calendars I give out during Christmas got to have pictures, you know.

The Canon 7D and all its peripheries got sold to the highest bidder on eBay (man, eBay fees really eats into your bottom line). They say the best camera is the one you’ve got with you, and I just don’t have the mental willpower any longer to lug around a full-size photography kit. Portability and ease of carry is key – if you loathe to carry it, you’re less likely to use it. That’s why the trusty (and tiny) Sony NEX-5 camera is the main everyday go-to, and also, for the most part, the sensor on my iPhone serves brilliantly as well.

Smartphone camera technologies have certainly advanced leaps and bounds, and the results I get from my iPhone are now good enough for sizable prints. For the first time ever I can satisfactorily input so called “potato” shots into my yearly Calendar project, which is remarkable. You look at the very first shots made on instagram compared to those of today and the contrast is exponential. I firmly believe photographs are the best medium in transmitting/sharing memories and experiences, and smartphone have put a camera in everyone’s hands; it’s fantastic. I stay constantly amazed at the results I get from my iPhone 7, with nary a touchup or alteration required.

It’ll be another half-decade yet before the camera on a smartphone can replace all but the very specialized cameras. Until then, for the best of shots I still have to utilize a traditional DSRL, albeit one that hasn’t got a mirror mechanism and therefore incredibly small and light to carry around. The aforementioned NEX-5, after five years of service, bid an untimely farewell due to negligence with a rogue water bottle. The replacement I bought is its direct-line successor, the Sony A5100.

I got a new lens to go along with it as well. I’ve been pining for a Zeiss lens for ages, and the 12mm f/2.8 for the Sony e-mount finally got to within my price range (still cost more than the camera itself). There’s a saying that once you’ve experiences the esthetics of Zeiss glass, you can never go back to other brands, and those people are absolutely right. I’m completely enamored with the exceptional way the Zeiss lens renders a scene; leading to photographs I can’t get any way else.

TRAVEL

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I’ve been talking about learning and books legs of the tripod that holds up the self-improvement aspiration, so we’ve now arrived at the third leg: travel. The travel bug really bit me hard the last year, and from then on it’s grown into an affliction, of the good sort of course. I cannot bear to be without a travel itinerary for more than a few months, and thankfully I’ve got a job that allows me to travel fairly consistently throughout the year (vacation time wise; sadly there isn’t any work travel to speak of). 2016 saw me visiting Hong Kong, Taipei, Chicago, New York City, and Yosemite National Park.

It’s been 14years since I’ve last step foot back home in China, so heading to Hong Kong in January was a tremendously momentous occasion. My dad’s side of the family is in China, and so are most of the cousins whom are my age. I’m not entirely sure why I waited so long to visit, since I’ve certainly had the means to do so way earlier. It’s interesting how priorities work: after graduation and getting a job, my singular goal was to save money and buy a car, which negated any opportunity at using that money instead of go back home. Hindsight being what it is, I probably should not have done that, but we can’t change the past, as they say.

Needless to say, 14 years is a very long time, and the changes in my family in China are quite staggering. The “kids” are all grown up with jobs, and the adults are by and large enjoying blissful retirements. Yet even with such a dramatic time-shift, the dynamics of it hasn’t change at all. Us “kids” still feel like kids, even though we’re all employed and one even married. Again this isn’t me or us desperately hanging on to whatever vestige of youth; it’s genuinely how it felt. I wonder if our parents ever went through the same quagmire, in which they’re at the end of their 20’s but still feel like a kid to their parents. Will we always feel like a kid when we’re amongst our parents, even when we have kids of our own? I guess I’ll know the answer to that eventually.

Hong Kong is a wonderful and bustling metropolis, and one you should definitely go visit only during the wintertime because any other time it’s too bloody hot and humid to be without air conditioning. But winter, ah, it was sublime. I’m a city kid at heart and I welcome urban density more so that the spread out suburbs. Hong Kong might as well be paradise. The abundance and variety of things to do within so small a square area, and it’s all so accessible because their public transportation system absolutely destroys the one we’ve got here in San Francisco. The convenience of Hong Kong’s subway system completely shames the money-wasting BART behemoth that takes you only to parts of the city.

If you haven’t found out already, the food is unrivaled in Asia. Even just the blocks surrounding our hotel offered more quality Chinese food than most of what’s here in San Francisco. I can eat out three meals out of the day without getting bloated with various agents of sodium and ungodly amounts of fat.

You may think going home to where everybody practically looks like me and speaks the same language may be remarkable, but in practice it is most definitely not. When you’re used to the sort of diversity we have in San Francisco, being in a place that severely lacks it, even when it’s “your own people”, is very disconcerting. There’s a certain sense of foreignness and unease, even though for all intents and purposes I blend completely in. I was more at home at the parts of the city with lots of foreigners, funny enough, though to them I probably look like a local instead of “one of them”.

Diversity is so awesome that it even trumps the innate want for homogeneity. I want to be able to walk down a city block and hear like 10 different languages.

After a week spent in Hong Kong, I took a quick jump to the island nation (well, not nation, because remember, there’s only ONE CHINA!) of Taiwan, particularly Taipei. If anything, I think I may like it even more than Hong Kong. The Taiwanese people are incredibly polite, and the streets and facilities are so clean, and the public restrooms are immaculate. Taipei is a diverse city, perhaps not in its population, but it the variety of activities and sights it’s got to offer. It’s a huge city, too (takes one hour by bus just to go from the airport to the city center), and I had a blast exploring every corners of it. A week’s time most certainly isn’t enough, and much like Hong Kong; I desperately need to go back again.

As it was in Hong Kong, Taipei is best experienced during the winter months, as the summer might even be more dreadful due to the dangers of typhoon and earthquakes, to go along with the humidity and heat. The climate during January however can be described as San Francisco-like, which for me is just about perfect.

And yes, there’s the food. You’ve never had proper bubble/boba milk tea until you’ve had it in Taipei. Even the ones peddled by the random corner store are miles better than the best you can get here in the States. After sampling (frequently) the boba tea in Taipei, I cannot stand to have the ones here in San Francisco without groveling about how much I miss the ones in its origin country. As for solid foods, there’s no better foodie paradise than the numerous night markets to choose from in Taipei. Don’t make dinner plans, go straight to the night market and pig out for the next two hours or so; it’s better Taiwanese food than any restaurant over here can offer.

You’d want to go back just for the food, really.

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On the domestic front, Chicago is an incredibly scenic and picturesque city. The downtown skyline as viewed from lake Michigan is enough to arrest you for hours on end. It’s really unfair that Chicago has got a river snaking through it’s downtown, which makes everything better. It’s cheating if you were to design a city from the ground up. Imagine how beautiful San Francisco would look if it were to have a river go through it. Bodies of water do so well to accentuate the beauty of a city (we’d know, we’re three sides surrounded by them), and Chicago does well to integrate that gleaming river into its overall scenic quality.

That said, it all felt a bit shallow and hollow. Underneath the beauty, as we all know, Chicago is gripped by violence. Outside of the white northern neighborhoods, I found Chicago to be a bit joyless and heartless. No one smiles; people move on through their day like drones, there isn’t much happy there. And why would there be, when over the course of a one weekend over 50 people can be shot dead, with hundreds wounded. The Left thinks they are the party that do right by the people, but the Democrat-controlled Chicago is a stark failure in that regard. And to think, this is Obama’s town.

Anyways, no trip to Chicago as a baseball fan is complete without a trip to hallowed Wrigley Field. It still amazes me every time I think about the fact I was actually there. I’ve of course seen it numerous times on television, but to actually be there: is this real life? Wrigley is a lovely stadium indeed, and because it was built before any of us were born, it’s definitely got an old-timey vibe to it. It’s less clinical and industrious than the modern ballpark cathedrals; I quite liken it to the sort of cozy niceness you get at Spring Training ballparks. You can immediately tell why it’s earned the nickname “The Friendly Confines”. You can’t help but to make a new friend or start a conversation with your seat neighbors there; the atmosphere is so unique, and yes, I still can’t believe we were actually there. What an experience.

A quick word on Chicago food: deep-dish pizza might as well be a giant quiche, and while it’s delicious, for proper pizza I much rather have thin-crust, as it should be. A hard pass on the Chicago Dog: too many ingredients, difficult to eat. I ended up using a fork, with is antithetical to how one should eat a hot dog.

We then moved on to New York City, and what a magnificent city is it. I felt a sense of familiarity as soon as I arrived in Manhattan, and there is a succinct San Francisco vibe that permeates throughout. While I felt somewhat foreign in Chicago, I was right at home in New York City. Blindfold me and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. It’s lovely indeed.

The cliché is true: the city truly never sleeps. The first night there we wandered about up into the wee hours of the night, and yet there’s still much to do, places still open if you so desire. The ability to get alcohol after 2AM! A subway system that runs 24-hours! Jaywalking is a beloved and encouraged! Due to all this, our day-night cycled got completely skewed. Waking hours weren’t until at least noon, and what was usually lunch is now breakfast. I reckon night owls would thrive in New York.

New Yorkers aren’t rude and in a constant hurry as the outside reputation would suggest: simply don’t get in the way of where they are going! If you see a gap, go; being too polite is hugely detrimental because you’re holding up the line behind you. Apprehensiveness will only make things worse. I wish San Franciscans would adopt some of that philosophy, especially in traffic situations. How many times have we’ve been stuck frustrated behind a car unwilling to merge out even when the gap is quarter of a mile wide. In New York, five cars would’ve gone already.

It was humbling and emotional to be at the World Trade Center memorial.

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Going to New York City gave me the opportunity to finally test out which is the superior burger: Shake Shack of the east coast, or our west coast’s beloved In n Out. Heading in with all intentions of defending the west coast like I was in rap group in the 90s, the verdict came out to be that Shake Shack is indeed the better burger. In fact, it’s just about the best burger I’ve eaten given the category: fast food burger chain just a step up above McDonalds and Burger Kings of the world, but not quite the sit-down gourmet variety. Sorry, west coast friends, but Shake Shack burger is absolutely delicious (it’s the bread), so good that I made sure to have it a second time before I had to leave. They desperately need to expand up and out into our neck of the woods.

Yes, I’m going to be that smug asshole who will tell you smugly that you’ve haven’t had actual Halal Guys until you’ve patronize the original street side stand in New York, having to eat the stuff sat next to the sidewalk. It’s a completely different experience: the sights, smells, and sounds of a bustling Manhattan street adds immensely to the eating pleasure.

The last time I was in Yosemite National Park was back when I’ve just finished high school and a bunch of us went during the summer for a camping trip. 10 years later, I returned once more, only this time amongst wintry conditions at the beginning of December. I have to say; the renowned beauty of Yosemite is even more so during the winter. There was such a kaleidoscope of colors, from snow-covered ground, to shimmering peaks, the autumnal leaves, and pewter lakes. The photographic canvas was incredible; there are no bad shots, there’s beauty and majesty striking your senses from all angles.

No wonder John Muir was so infatuated with the place.

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The post-snow air at Yosemite is some of the freshest I’ve ever breathed. I’d like an oxygen tank of that for my birthday, thank you.

Driving a tiny, rear-wheel driven convertible through snow and ice conditions, even on a sunny day, was in hindsight a huge mistake. Had a storm suddenly rolled through I would’ve been hideously trapped. I made it out alive! Though the Miata suffered a few patina scars for sure.

Travel plans for next year: Hong Kong (again!), Shanghai/Hangzhou, Seoul (finally!), and Iceland. Excited would be an understatement.

ODDS AND ENDS

My high school graduating class’ 10-year reunion was this year, which is to say what the fuck 10 years have passed already? I wonder just how “adult” does any of us feel, even though most have remarkable careers already, and plenty are married with kids. These reunions are interesting, aren’t they? Who are the ugly ducklings that turned into swans? Who were popular back when but now are total deadbeats? Who amongst you voted for Trump? Wasn’t it you that got that girl in Japan pregnant during your stay as an exchange student?

According to at least LinkedIn profiles, Lowell’s class of 2006 has done quite well for ourselves career-wise. The amount of lawyers, engineers, entrepreneurs, and doctors are astounding.

Sadly I was unable to attend the reunion due to geographic impossibilities, as the day of the reunion is the same day I was on a plane to Hong Kong. It’s a sign from the higher authorities in heaven that I probably wasn’t meant to go. Surely the 20-year anniversary would be more significant in terms of the change delta in each person.

Personally, 2016 has been a good year; society though, as you may all know, 2016 has been largely panned as absolute shit. The sheer amount of untimely deaths of significant persons notwithstanding, but we here in the United States elected an orange orangutan to be the next President. At least my investment portfolio will perform well.

Those of us here in California are lucky to be well insulated, like a sanctuary.

Given all the turmoil, tragedy, and uncertainties in the world around us, the only thing we can do is focus on ourselves: don’t worry about what you cannot control. Whatever incendiary thing Trump will inevitably speak next, or insane legislations the State congress of North Carolina will inevitably enact, just ignore it; you can’t change it anyways. Unless we are on the precipice of all-out nuclear war, focus on yourself and the people around you. Don’t worry about the extraneous; a little less social media and cable new channels, add a bit more books, or time spent with family and friends.

Focus on making yourself better.

For the latter half of the year, my work schedule changed to such that I went from having an afternoon-to-night shift and switched it to an early-morning-to-mid-afternoon shift. You know you’re getting old when you’re perfectly comfortable with getting to bed way before midnight and waking up when the clock reads a number six in front of the colon. The college-aged me wouldn’t have believed any of it.

But there is something intrinsically rewarding about waking up before practically everyone else and getting shit done whilst the proverbial world is still asleep. These days by the time breakfast hour rolls around, I would’ve been awaken for some hours already, and either have read through a significant chunk of a book, studied Korean, or washed the car (no lines at the car wash when it’s this early). It’s oddly satisfying, and an essential life hack in that you feel like you’ve got more hours in the day, even though it’s all same (unless you sleep less.)

Staying up past midnight takes a toll. Imagine that.

MUSIC TOP 10

1. TWICE - Cheer Up
2. Taeyeon - Rain
3. Park Kyung - 보통연애 (Ordinary Love) (Feat. Park Boram) 
4. Red Velvet - Russian Roulette  
5. Eric Nam x Wendy - 봄인가 봐 (Spring Love)
6. 여자친구 (GFRIEND) - 시간을 달려서 (Rough)
7. BTS - 피 땀 눈물 (Blood Sweat & Tears)
8. Apink - Only one (내가 설렐 수 있게)
9. BLACKPINK - WHISTLE (휘파람) (Acoustic Ver.)
10. I.O.I - Knock Knock Knock (똑똑똑)

CONCENTRATE AND CONQUER

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The conclusions I draw from 2016 are this: simplify and focus. Emphasize on only the few important things, and do them extremely well. More importantly, concentrate on only the things I can control, and ignore the extra noise.

Learning Korean will go on well into 2017, if not beyond that, as I’ve still got one and a half textbooks (out of a three) to go. I’ve got books lined up to read well into 2018 if I keep up the current pace, so that’ll be a constant joy. Lastly, the once a quarter travel plans are set.

Other than spending time with friends and family, the tripod of learning, books, and travel is all I need and all I shall give attention to.

May you find your self-enriching niches as well. Happy 2017!   

Don't you wait no more! - 2015 reflections

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What a year.

Is precisely what you want to exclaim when you begin reflecting on the year, and for me, 2015 was a remarkable one indeed. Just as the formal blog title/theme suggests, this year was about not waiting: to do the things that needed to be done or that I want to accomplish. After an admittedly lethargic 2014, this year saw me traveling to four different cities in four different States, selling the once-beloved WRX STI, reading more books for leisure than the previous years combined, keeping active on the personal website/blog, and with plenty of meaning and joy mixed between it all. As we’re mere hours until the dawn of the next annum, it’s time to ruminate about the one that was.  

AWAKENINGS

I turned 28 this year, and as typically to say as it may be; it’s rather unbelievable how fast the time has gone past. Wasn’t it only last year that I graduated from high school? No, far from it. You know, you get on with your life and all its merriments and then one day you realize your high school graduating class’s 10-year reunion is next year. Inadequacy and the haunting question of ‘what have you done with your life?’ then hit you with the force of a San Francisco MUNI bus. You idiot! How could you take five freaking years to finish undergrad? You’ve done nothing with that damn business degree! Shut up, Stewie, I haven’t even started on that novel.

Perhaps it’s the delayed manifestation of the quarter-life crisis (I did purchase a proper sports car this year, funny enough), but after a distinctly plebeian 2014, I was hit with a bit of anxiety; I can’t be languid any longer: I’ve got to be productive, be it hobbies, employment, or ambitions.

Now that I think about it, towards the middle parts of last year I was in sort of a funk, nothing too serious - quite the first world problem actually, but the dull and settled life of adulthood normalcy has placed a blanket of contentment over my life, and it completely stifled creativity and passion. Not since starting the photography hobby have I taken fewer pictures than in 2014. I shuttered the once vibrant (in terms of content per week, not views, sadly) automotive blog that I kept out of pure indolence, and basically, life was a matter of outputting the minimal at work to get past, and then an unending marathon of television, YouTube shows, and video games at home. By any standards it’s an okay life indeed, but it was a colossal personal disservice.

Rereading last year’s ending blog post, I mentioned none of these shortcomings concerning 2014 that I feel now, save a snippet at the end saying let’s be less lazy in 2015 (that’s got to be a top five most popular new years resolutions, isn’t it?). It was a cop-out for sure, and not a direct confrontation of the issues. Heck, I can’t believe I wrote that 2014 was a “very good year”, because it most certainly wasn’t.  

But I knew what had to change. Not entirely sure what triggered the epiphany exactly; during the penultimate months of 2014, I recognized the occasion to check off items on the archetypal bucket list is right now. It’s not even about having a concrete list: it’s entirely about experiences, having as much of it as possible, and not waiting until I’m diagnosed with some interminable disease, or less drastic, other people to be ready. If it can be done within my sole physical and financial constraints, then it’s time to go. You’d think for someone who has long ago read Randy Pausch would know better far sooner, but alas.

I did reread it again late 2014.

Perhaps that was the trigger. Nevertheless, things got started the previous November when I went down to Los Angeles for the annual LA Auto Show. I had a few extra days off before Thanksgiving, so after a quick why the heck not, off I went on the six-hour trip south. Didn’t consider waiting for next year, or for someone to come with. Not saying companionship isn’t an awesome thing, but I can never understand the type of people who can’t bear to watch a movie in the theatres by their lonesome. I’d happily watch Star Wars 7 by myself if no one else wants/convenient to go (albeit highly impossible). On the same token, I’ve no issues traveling anywhere alone. I’m not waiting if you’re not ready (beyond reasonable timeframes).

TRAVELING, AND SPRING TRAINING

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Thankfully I did have two splendid companions for the trip to Scottsdale, Arizona during the first week of March. Having been SF Giants fans for more than a decade, my friends and I were long overdue do perform the Spring Training pilgrimage; an opportunity to see the team in a more intimate and relaxed setting, and escaping San Francisco for that prominent Arizona sun, though favorably tempered by the springtime climate, which is to say it was perfect.

Discounting Las Vegas (as one does), I’d have to go all the way back to 2001 to discover the last time I ventured outside the State of California. That’s a highly dubious statistic for someone who puts ‘wanderlust enthusiast’ in his social media profile. A case of ‘fake it until you make it’ or outright dishonestly? Probably the latter, though in my defense there were other more immediate priorities during this past decadal of years. Taking five of them to complete my BS in business and the subsequent delay in finding gainful employment didn’t help from a financial standpoint, and spending $36K on a car in 2013 didn’t, either. Materialism really kills experiences when you’re not in the 1% earning bracket, and I wasn’t about to debt finance travel, or anything else for that matter, save a car or a home (in San Francisco? That’s hilarious).  

Time to alter the paradigm in 2015.

Some say the best fight against prejudice and bias is to travel, and those ‘some’ are absolutely correct. Coming from the bluest of blue States, visiting a red State such as the land of John McCain must thought to be an alien and antagonistic experience. The reality, when we went to Scottsdale for Spring Training, was vastly different. Sure, seeing tip jars labeled with ‘Tip if you hate Obama’ and various anti-liberal messaging was a tad startling, and you can use your mobile phone whilst operating a vehicle! Before the trip I joked about needing a Kevlar to protect myself from all the guns but not once during the three-day holiday did I witness any person open-carry. Responsible gun-owners are not the problem with regards to the gun-violence epidemic, and it’s easy to understand why (though I don’t necessarily agree) they’d protest heavily against any new gun-control legislations, even common sense items such as universal background checks.

Apologies for the tangent.

Visiting the greater Phoenix area and witnessing the particular lifestyle of locals, it’s not surprising the people there skew towards conservatism. It’s altogether so calm, laidback, and never in a hurry (The erratic and crazy driving behavior Northern Californians know and loathe was entirely absent in Phoenix); you’d be angry too if the federal government intrudes on any of that, however fake/imagined it might be. Remember when the governor of Texas idiotically commanded the State guard to keep an eye on the federal armed forces conducting drills within its borders? I can now empathize with why he did it. Still incredibly stupid and illogical (there’s no conquering Texas - it’s already part of the Union!), but I’ve an understanding that I wouldn’t otherwise attain had I remained untraveled beyond my tiny coastal Californian peninsula.

Right, baseball: the reason we went to Arizona. Spring Training is all about the atmosphere, taking in the natural surroundings, and one of complete leisure. Spring ballparks are extents smaller than the Major League equivalents, and you feel an immense closeness to everyone there, as if 10,000 of your closest friends were treated to a private game. The games itself don’t matter, and neither does the names on the back of the jersey. It’s baseball back to the roots, back to the childhood: audience watch, and the players play, for the sheer pleasure and love of the game. You’re actually not angry when the opposing team hits a home run, because damn it that was a beautiful shot out of the park. No matter what the end results are, you go home (back to the hotel a few blocks away for us) with delight and satisfaction.

The competitiveness and passion of ‘real’ baseball games can’t be replaced; rather, Spring Training in Arizona is another dimension to the great game - an escape.

THE ESCAPE

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The Escape, that’s the name I’ve changed this blog to in 2015. Not precisely sure why, but the term massively resonated with me. An escape from what exactly? The monotony of work life? Sameness? Complacency? Not accomplishing anything of substance? All of the above, perhaps: the blog was lacking in content last year, especially of the visual variety. There were plenty of words, but words are easy: I can stay home and type stuff out by the multiple thousands. Where do you think I am right now writing this soon to be 5,000-word soliloquy? (Not humble brag.)

For there to be visuals - photographs, I must endeavor outwards, leave this insulator I call home. The amount of travel helped, but that cannot be the sole crutch. Living in a bustling metropolis means there are numerous experiences to be had locally as well, and naming the blog ‘The Escape’ holds me accountable (that was the hope, anyway) to sincerely go to those events, places, and things, because how else am I going to create content on a consistent basis? It’s a push-pull, a good begetting another good.  

One of the highlights is the Rolex Monterey Motorsport Reunion back in August.

It’s an everyday practice, as well. Since 2011 I’ve been doing the photographic 365 challenge of taking a picture everyday of the year. I reckon it’s an excellent way to document my life, a sort of sketchbook, minus all the glue, glitter, and other accompanied mess. The end product was to combine the year’s pictures into a photo-book for archival. Sadly, mainly due to laziness and partly financial reasons (one book costs almost $200 to make), I never got round to producing the books, and the photos sat for the longest time. It wasn’t until late last year (notice a pattern? There truly was an awakening then) that I finally got off my butt and composed together the 2011 collection, with the 2012 and 2013 books done earlier this year.  

Quite an amount of money simply for keepsakes, isn’t it?

Photographs from the 2014 challenge remain in my Mac Mini, awaiting print. On a subconscious level I’ve been reluctant to complete last year’s book, because owing to the aforementioned lethargy and overall crappiness of 2014, I rather ignore than confront it (healthy, I know). What fun is it to figure out patterns and placements when a solid 15% of the photographs are of my room - because I haven’t gone outside at all that day? I don’t want to be reminded of that.

It’ll get made soon, because 2015’s collection awaits. Not only did I proactively attempt for an interesting or diverging capture each day (there were failing days for sure), I’ve also been dutifully editing the batches every few weeks or so, and putting them up on the Flickr page and here on the blog. Prompt initiative like this for me is distinctly unprecedented, and I must say it’s gratifying to know I won’t have to go through all 365 items piecemeal before putting them in book-form. So there is an advantage to non-procrastination after all.  

The realization that I will soon have five such photo ‘yearbooks’ is unfathomable. 2011 is still this decade, right? My god, we’re already onto the latter half starting next year.

COMMENCEMENTS

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Nothing will make you feel old quite like seeing your 10-years younger sibling graduate from the same high school as you did, at the same ceremony spot you stood with your family a decade ago. The only good news is I’m 20 pounds lighter than I was back then. My little brother Kelvin commenced from high school and onto collegiate life in late May, and because I work at a college campus, it also meant college freshmen were for the first time younger than I am by the double digits. Four years from now we’ll have kids born in the 2000s in our universities, and that’s absolutely crazy, if not against the laws of physics.

Being constantly reminded of how old I am may be a minus, but having a significantly younger sibling is a net positive - a gift. I can see my past experiences in my brother, though I seldom interfere with counsel. I feel any unsolicited intrusion would erode the genuineness of whatever he’ll have to traverse through in life. Let him make the same mistakes I did, because that’s how he’ll learn, and it’s not like those mistakes were life threatening or I went off and killed someone (I was close!).

Kelvin’s high school commencement wasn’t the only graduation ceremony I attended at Bill Graham this year; the other was for my good friend Amber, having attained her Juris Doctorate, freshly minted and stamped by the powers at UC Hastings (they give those out to anybody!). What a year for her; finally escaping the claws I mean finishing law school with her psyche somewhat intact, and then passing the all-important and mighty bar exam in November. She’s a full-fledge lawyer now, an amazing achievement indeed. They say your group of friends is a reflection of you; well, Amber broke the curve on that one. Multiple Wikipedia searches are required any time I have a conversation with her regarding her milieu (and that’s all the time). Just kidding. Maybe.

I don’t mind it.

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Turns out you really do need a starting lawyer’s salary to afford a quaint studio apartment in San Francisco, as it was the case with my friend. Not surprising whatsoever, but every bit depressing for someone like me that grew up in San Francisco, have yet to leave the proverbial nest, and am on a public worker’s income. At this juncture, and for the foreseeable future, there’s no freaking way in hell I can afford a spot of my own (even sharing it with another person with similar income levels would be stretching it) in the city.

I concede the multiple marketing forces that contribute to the fervent housing prices (go plow yourself, crazy rich Chinese people from the mainland), and I’m not one to argue against the free market. That said, there’s got to be a balance somehow - a home is first and foremost a place to lay your head, and not just an investment. Might sound socialist, but there should be mechanisms in place to allow persons with a decent job be able to afford a place in the same city he’s working at. Currently there’s a shortage of teachers in the local school district because cost of housing in San Francisco is insane. Societal consequences like that will continue to rear their ugly heads if SF’s housing trends are to go on unchanged.

I’ve stated countless times: good thing I’m Chinese and my parents aren’t wont to unceremoniously kick me out of the house.

HELLO, SEATTLE

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If they did, I just might move up to Seattle. Of the four cities in four States I traveled to this year, Seattle is the lone locale I wish to return to sooner rather than later. It’s got a very similar vibe to San Francisco, but more relaxed, and with plenty of precipitation that we in California desperately need. Lots more trees too, as the surrounding area is full of greenery. It’s a shame that I did not allocate enough time to witness the soaring Cascades, or take a blissful adventure through Olympic National Park. I need to go back soon.  

I mainly stayed in the downtown area of Seattle, having lucked into a last minute deal on a room at the Sheraton. The choice location made downtown landmarks such as Pikes Place market, the waterfront, King’s Station, Chinatown, and the famed Space Needle entirely within walking distance. After the extensive 12-hours slog of a drive up, it was a relief to not have to get into the car the following day. You’ve read correctly: instead of taking a flight up to SEATAC like a normal human being, I elected to drive, and I’m glad I did. The route up on Highway 5 is enormously scenic, especially once you’ve crossed over the border into Oregon. I got to see cities on the way like Portland, which reminded me an incredible lot of Pittsburg, PA.

I did find out that 12 hours is just about the maximum I can/should be in a car per day. I was quite beat-up by the time I reached the destination hotel, granted the seats in the WRX STI aren’t the utmost compliant pieces of furniture.

The entire Pacific Northwest region is utterly picturesque, and if given the opportunity - assuming climate-change or human warfare don’t destroy the planet in the coming decades, Washington is a prime option for me come retirement time.

14,000+

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If Seattle is San Francisco with more trees and rain, then Denver is Seattle with less air. Much like Seattle, Denver is littered full of green and mountainous beauty, and it rains quite often as well. But it’s all situated a mile up in elevation, so you’re definitely short on breath until you’re acclimatize, as I’ve experienced. It’s a peculiar indeed when you’re walking at your usual pace and then to suddenly find yourself winded. Expectedly, there’s a lack of large bodies of water in and around Denver; the vast calm of Seattle’s Puget Sound remains unparalleled. Still, a lovely place Denver is, and I’m glad I made it over there in July.      

A big checkmark on the automotive enthusiast list, alongside attending the motorsport reunion at Laguna Seca, is taking the drive up Pikes Peak, which involved staying in Denver as a home base of sort. Like the escape to Seattle, I wasn’t content with regular aviation methods to get to my destination: for Denver, I went via Amtrak train. Having never been on an extended multi-day train journey before, taking the transcontinental route to the Denver was the perfect prospect. We’ve all watched those infomercials about intra-State train rides and the breathtaking views scattered along, so opportunity was ripe to have a look for myself. Heck, my Chinese ancestors built that particular stretch of railroad, which is altogether humbling when I saw en route the enormously arduous terrain they had to blast through in order to connect American east and west.

I did fly back home, though; one multi-day train ride more than suffices. No need for a return trip. 

Pikes Peak is about 30 minutes south of Denver, and the mountain’s lone ribbon of tarmac (see top photo) towards the towering 14,000 feet summit plays host to the longest running auto-race on this continent: Pikes Peak International Hill Climb. The toll-road is otherwise open to the public - weather permitting, so regular blokes like me can commandeer a rental Volkswagen Passat up to the top, pretending to be the hill-climb heroes we watched on YouTube. The weather is no joke: my friend Tony and I were almost locked out of the parts beyond the tree line to the summit (so the good parts, basically) due to substantial rainfall. Guardrails are scarce, and if you are misfortune to have an off, you’re probably dead, so the Peak’s stewards take it seriously.

Of course, putting along at sane speeds isn’t likely to land us in a big bag of hurt, but having driven Pikes Peak now, I can’t imagine the amount of audacity it takes to drive a car - much less a motorbike - as fast as you can up that mountain. Make one tiny mistake and it’s the end of all things for you. Plus, the 17-mile stretch of road used to be unpaved only a few years ago, the hubris of man indeed. Naturally, the constant and unending danger is the main ingredient to the romance of PPIHC, and those thrill-seekers who dare are better man/woman than I. I’m quite happy with my rental sedan, thank you.

I’ve wanted to drive up Pikes Peak ever since I played it virtually in Gran Turismo 2, and it was a surreal experience once we reached the summit. 14,000 feet of elevation provides the kind of chill that you imagine would be similarly found in either of the earth’s poles. It’s nowhere near as cold of course, but it’s not an exposure you want for a protracted period. In additional to the piercing chill there’s also a decidedly lack of oxygen for you breathe. The literature warns you to bring a heavy jacket, but that won’t be enough. Any exposed skin is met with instant numbness. My hands, sans gloves, barely held together long enough for me to take pictures of the surroundings, and to think I was wearing shorts! After 10 minutes we were ready to escape into the famous summit shop for the welcomed climate-control, and Pikes Peak doughnut.

What an experience nonetheless, and I hope to return to Pikes Peak one day during the actual running of the annual hill-climb event.

CAN WE SAY PLANTS FROM TEXAS ARE DUMB?

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A city I’m in no hurry to revisit (if at all) is the fourth city I went to this year: Dallas. I’ve been meaning to visit my friend Amy there for the longest time (well, a few years); one extended labor weekend and a ticket sale on Southwest Airlines later, I found myself in the arid heat and supreme flatness of central Texas. Lovely.

First, the heat: it doesn’t ever cool down. It can be hours past midnight and yet the mercury still reads 95. As if the night sky is but a camouflage for the sun that’s continuously lurking behind it, having not really set at all. For a San Franciscan used to the comforts of a constant high 50s, the Texas heat was completely foreign. How can there by any motivation to leave the house? At least it’s dry heat, and not the humid sort you’d find in Southeast Asia.

Of all the places I’ve lived, there exist geographical features that inform you, at the very least, some semblance of exactly where you are. Ah, is that Mount Tamalpais to the left? We must be in heading north. There’s no such navigational luck in big flat Texas; without road signs or the few tall buildings in downtown areas, you’d have zero clue where the heck you are in relation to everything. Not sure how people managed to travel within the State before the invention of GPS.  

Those two quirks aside, it was a good weekend in Dallas. Amy’s abode is right next to Cowboys Stadium, so I got to see that billion-dollar monolith up close. Went to the local art museum principally for the air-conditioning (it had a Manet next to a Monet, which only I would find hilarious). No visit to Texas is complete without tasting the famous BBQ, so we went to the historic Fort Worth Stockyard for that. It’s a good thing I don’t live there permanently, because the amount of delicious BBQ you can get (and the sweet tea, got to have the sweet tea) for the money is downright dangerous. I drove on a highway named after George Bush, which provides a solid snickering even now as I think about it. Oh, and gas prices starting with a ‘1’ before the decimal point is ceaselessly bewildering.

Seeing the Dallas that Amy has lived in for the past threes years provided me a tremendous amount of appreciation for what she had to go through, moving her entire life there - by her lonesome - because the job in Texas provided her with a visa to stay in America; major kudos for that. However shockingly different the environment was for me must’ve been doubled or tripled for her because she truly had to stay; there were no return flight a few days later should she change her mind, for she can’t. In hindsight I’m now extremely glad my other friend Chris was there to accompany Amy on the maiden move. Put me in the same scenario I would‘ve cried mother like Rory Gilmore’s first day at Yale.

THE ROADSTER

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The year-end blog post isn’t replete without mentioning the cars. Yes, plural this year. After close to three-years of overall joyous ownership, I made the decision to part ways with the WRX STI back in October. I thought I’d keep it forever, too, but I guess I’m the type of car enthusiast that prefer to sample around instead of being married to just one (sure hope that isn’t a premonition for another part of my being). Unlike better financially endowed petrol-heads, I can’t afford to keep more than one car, so when the brand-new Mazda MX-5 Miata enticing powers proved exceedingly effervescent; I made the switch - on a whim. Within the span one weekend I sold the WRX STI to CarMax (Subaru hold its value very excellently indeed), and had an order placed at Mazda of Elk Grove for an MX-5 Sport in Ceramic Metallic color.

I took delivery of the new car the second week of November, and it’s been supremely special ever since. I can now see why people love genuine sports cars in the traditional sense: lightweight, appropriate amount of power, two doors, and rear-wheel drive is an incredibly intoxicating motoring recipe. It was a drastic change coming from the four-door all-wheel-drive turbocharged machine, and perhaps it’s bias for the new (yeah, it is), but the MX-5 fits my current lifestyle magnitudes better than the WRX STI ever did. What’s the use of all those doors/passenger seats when 99% of the time I only ferry myself around? No need for an enormous trunk, the maximum I carry is a backpack. 305hp is thoroughly wasted in city driving; the 155hp engine in the MX-5, coupled with its 2270lbs weight, is plenteously potent to deliver driving thrills.

I’m spending half as much per month on gas, and my insurance every six months is lower by $240. License fee will also be less expensive, and because the car is so tiny, washing the MX-5 takes less than half an hour compared to the former’s solid hour. If you can’t tell already, I’m super happy with the purchase. The desire to just drive for the heck of it is back, and I’ve missed it so.

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THINGS THAT DIDN’T FIT INTO THE NARRATIVE

1. I’m positive about how work is going, and the overall direction our new supervisor is taking us. I certainly didn’t hate going to work before, but now I’m quite excited with all the changes. The focus is entirely on the customer, and if there’s something we can do for them, it shall be done, even if certainly soft rules (time restrictions, for example) are bent.

2. Of the numerous books I’ve read this year, the most rewarding is Henry David Thoreau’s famous tome, Walden: such a fascinating expose in living modestly and the meaning of true contentment. It’s a great shame I didn’t encounter an English teacher in high school that assigned it as required reading, I would’ve read it much sooner. Thoreau’s prose is quite unique as well; a discredit to the English professors who say extremely long sentences and paragraphs are not acceptable in creative writing.

3. After a lengthy gestation period, I finally upgraded my well-served iPhone 5s to the new for this year iPhone 6s Plus. What an utter transformation! Going from a 4-inch screen to a 5.5-inch screen is akin to switching to a smartphone for the very first time - it’s that drastic. How on earth did I ever live with such a small-screened phone? These so called ‘phablets’ are undeniably the sweet spot. Great apologies to the early adopters I made fun of, laughing at the hilarity of using such a gigantic phone, especially making calls (still is, honestly; speaker mode is what you want).

4. 2015 is an odd year, so naturally the SF Giants didn’t fare so well in the MLB season. After three championships in the previous five years, do I really care? Not one bit. I’m back to simply enjoying the games and not worrying about standings or other miscellanies. However, next year is an even year, and my friends and I are expecting great stuff from the squad. Bring on the even year bullshit.

5. The NFL in 2015 keeps giving me more reasons to continue my boycott of its games, so self-imposed prohibition remains. The 49ers are absolute garage this year, so tickets prices at the new Levi’s Stadium were relatively cheap. Nope, can’t attend a live game out of principle. The league is not getting a cent from me.

6. Best movie I saw this year is a virtual tie between Avengers Age of Ultron and Star Wars Episode VII. I’ve watched the second Avengers film too numerous times to count, and what can be said about The Force Awakens that hasn’t already been said? The exact moment when the theme music plays after the famed ‘A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away’ still envelopes me with exuberance every single time. There’s going to be (at least) two more of these? Brilliant.

Massively anticipating Captain America: Civil WarBatman v. Superman, and X-Men Apocalypse next year.

7. I love my music collection, and it’s of such inordinate value to me that I keep two backup copies, one offsite, just in case the house burns down (serious). 2015 took it up another notch with a third backup avenue: the cloud. The entirety of my music is now stored on Google Drive, backup automatically every hour the Mac is turned on. Excessive? I’d say so. But as they say, can you put a price on piece of mind?

8. In addition to purchasing a car, this year I also helped negotiate a lease for the first time. All those quirky numbers and terms related to leasing? I’m an expert now! So don’t contact me to assist you, because it’s not fun process whatsoever. 

TEN MOST PLAYED SONGS IN 2015

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1. Red Velvet - Ice Cream Cake
2. HIGH4 & IU - 봄 사랑 벚꽃 말고 (Not Spring, Love, or Cherry Blossoms)
3. Red Velvet - Don’t U Wait No More
4. Red Velvet - Dumb Dumb
5. EXO - CALL ME BABY
6. Red Velvet - Oh Boy
7. Calvin Harris - Outside (feat. Ellie Goulding)
8. GD x TAEYANG - GOOD BOY
9. BIGBANG - BAE BAE
10. David Tao - Susan說

MANY PARTINGS

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When this post go live on the blog, I’ll be but a few short hours away from boarding a plane to Hong Kong; a brief two-week holiday in Asia. I finally renewed my long-expired U.S. Passport, and starting with 2016, it’s time to see the rest of the world. I look forward to the new year with great spirit, and hope and wish us all the absolute best. 

Don’t you wait no more…

And darling, it was good... - 2014 reflections

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I hate to start off these things with a writing cliche, but it really is quite difficult to find a proper starting point whenever I do these long opuses. So, where to begin in this ode to 2014?

One thing I won’t say about 2014 is that it went by quickly, because it most certainly didn’t. To some degree it was a slog simply to get to this, the last day of the year (this, the day of your daughter’s wedding…) Not to say there were many hardships in 2014 - it was a very good year indeed - but I definitely didn’t blink and missed it (more cliches!) That’s probably a good thing; Don’t motivational social media handles always remind people to stop and smell the roses? (Okay, I’ll stop…)  

TIME, WHERE DID YOU GO?

Sadly for me I don’t particularly enjoy smelling flowers (damn allergies), but I did put effort to be more cognizant of the moment in 2014. I used to be the sort of person that constantly looked forward for the next thing to happen. While watching a movie I would be thinking about the drive home or the dinner afterwards, instead of enjoying the moving art in front of me. Going on trips, while on the flight en route I would already be thinking about the flight back. It’s a disease. 

That sort of thinking accelerated the time relativity. Moments and occasions would be over with before I realized, leaving me to many arduous hours of reflecting on what happened - because I’d no idea, usually at the expense of beloved slumber hours. I think that’s how years can appear to slip you by, leaving you to agonize over how where exactly did all the time go.

For me, 2014 wasn’t going to be that; Time was compartmentalized down to each day, and focus was only towards what was right in front of me. My mother’s tendency to ask what’s for lunch when I’ve only just finished breakfast is now met with I’ll figure it out when I get there

Not to say I don’t plan for things - you’ve got to, naturally. One can only be so spontaneous in a world that craves structure and predetermined results. If that wasn’t the case, then Wall Street wouldn’t go ape-shit every time earning results don’t match forecasts, or your friends wouldn’t desert you over failure to ever commit to anything. 

So I’d only do the most minimum amounts of planning. I haven’t got a five year plan, nor do I care to imagine where myself will be in 10 years - it’s all superfluous. The magical elixir that ultimately allows the freedom for such thinking is of course, money, and the state of having some of it. I don’t know about you (I’m feeling 22!…), I retain a job not merely to sustain myself: the endgame is to have enough money to practically (and relatively) do what ever the heck I want. 

MONEY TANGENT

The key, then, is to save. I may not plan for much, but saving significant amounts out of every paycheck is absolutely crucial. What people like to call ‘financial freedom’ is one of those real-life nirvana states that I would very much like to attain. Obviously, I have my Chinese upbringing to thank. Saving money is national past-time for the Chinese, and my parents were no different. When life threw suddenly-large-expenditure curveballs (as it is wont to do) at them, not once did they flinch - even when our family made half of what we do now (read: poverty level) and were still financially supporting me. 

Growing up without much made me saw first hand just how limiting not having money can be. There were many things and experiences that the typical middle class kid grew up with that I was largely deprived of. For me, there was school, and that was it; The family hasn’t got money for anything else. It wasn’t only until well into high school when my parents made a bit more money that I was afforded other opportunities and options. And by that time, I was only a few years away from university and having my own income. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bitter about it at all. I was fed and had a roof over my dome - there’s absolutely nothing to complain about. 

Being Chinese, coupled with the conditions to which I was raised, taught me to save religiously. I wasn’t going to let money prevent me from doing stuff I want to do in the future. And mind you, it’s not about anything material (well, not most of it anyways - I do desperately want a Porsche at some point…). The things most worth paying for are experiences. I used to detest going out - and seldom did - due to the paradigm of going out costs money (after all, I am the president of the Homebody Association). My mindset has changed in 2014: these days I much rather go out and hang out with the comrades (and made an effort to do so) than buying the latest and greatest techno-gadgets or car parts. 

2014 introduced to me a practice that hugely resonated with me: stealth wealth. It’s about living a life of modesty even though you’ve got significant sums in your accounts. The key is to never let other people be cognizant of your financial standing, because money can most certainly corrupt people’s perception and attitude towards you (haters are going to hate, as the kids say). One doesn’t need to be all flash and material, announcing to the world how much money you have. A person that didn’t already know who Warren Buffett is would never be wise to his vast fortune based only on encounters with the man. He still lives in a relatively small house even though he can easily afford to buy the entire town. 

THE RALLYE CAR

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That’s exactly what I strive to be, and the only object that betrays that ethos is my beloved car. One simply cannot, as an Asian male in his 20s, drive an Impreza STI around without people think of you in two ways: your parents are rich and bought you the car, or you yourself have loads of cash. In some ways I very much resent the latter viewpoint, because on a macro level the STI isn’t at all what you would consider expensive. The average transaction price of a car in the U.S. is around 30K - I only paid about 5K more than that for my car. Alas, that huge wing at the back, box fenders, and the Fast and Furious franchise completely ruined the image. 

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so into cars and would otherwise be content with a Prius. 

That said, I absolutely adore my STI. 2014 marked year two of the ownership experience and I’m happy to say it just continues to be a joy. I turn back to look at the car every time I park, and when I return to it after a long days work I practically giggle like a schoolgirl. Me; I get to drive this car home! That kind of euphoria is definitely worth paying for if you’re a person with an affinity for automobiles. I drove the car whenever the opportunity presented, especially towards the latter parts of the year when gas prices went back to levels unseen in half a decade. I never thought I would ever again see the arabic numeral ‘2’ in front of the decimal point on gas station placards. It was game on.  

It wasn’t all positive, though. The car suffered a minor fender bender with another vehicle attempting to occupy the same piece of tarmac. Thankfully it was all just surface scratches on the passenger side of the front bumper. I’d previously installed paint protection film (PPF) on the car so to remedy the situation I simply tore the film off the bumper. Quite literally, it was good as new. The PPF proved to be a worthwhile expenditure. It would’ve been quite the nightmare had the car needed a front-end respray, because the tri-coat pearlescent white pigment is just about the hardest paint on the planet to match accurately. My advice to anyone is avoid buying a car in that hue. Had I known about the fact I would’ve gotten the STI in blue. 

LEAVE BEHING THE WORLD

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In 2013 I took the car down the famed Pacific Coast Highway (twice!) for some proper road-tripping action, so this year I figure I’d head upwards instead: on a trip to Eureka that involved bits of Highway 1, 101, and various mountain roads in between. It was an absolutely blast. I had no idea the northern parts of California possessed such beautiful landscapes and scenery. Certain parts of the 101 that snakes through the Humboldt country Redwoods were some of the best roads I’ve driven yet. Miles upon miles of immaculately paved sweeping high-speed curves, cutting through mountains full of majestic trees; I’m not sure any alpine pass in Europe would be able to top that experience. (Not that I wouldn’t have a go…

I can also say I drove my car through a tree. Cost me eight dollars to do it.  

The other big trip I made was during thanksgiving week. Every year I seem to find myself in Los Angeles for whatever reason, and 2014 was no different. Somewhat spontaneously, I decided that I would attend the annual Los Angeles Auto Show, considered one of the big shows that automakers launch new cars and concept vehicles. I figured as a car enthusiasts it’s one of those bucket list items to tick off. 

My expectations were beyond exceeded. The sort of token auto shows we get in San Francisco or San Jose are a pittance compared to the vast scale I witnessed within the walls of LA Convention Center. I hadn’t plan to spend an entire day at the show, but for the better part of what ended up to be nine hours, I made my way through the throngs of cars, people, and small children that shouldn’t be there. 

It was a lovely time. I got the opportunity to sit in many car I wouldn’t have otherwise. One particular vehicle was the Nissan GT-R. Who knew one of the most capable sports cars at any price point doesn’t have a telescoping steering wheel? That fact entirely shattered any chance for me to purchase a used sample in the future, because thanks to my weird body proportions, I don’t fit in the car! Cars without reach-adjustable steering wheels are not options for me because I wouldn’t have enough head-room. 

One thing I found out driving to and from Los Angeles was that in the absent of body bulk, sitting in the STI for prolonged periods of time was super uncomfortable. I’ve become too skinny for the car’s seats. Those seats were designed for large Americans, and not scrawny Asian guys. 

WHY ARE THEY PLAYING CANON?

By the time 2014 is over and done, I would have lived slightly over 26 years of life. Age and the numbers associated with it are quite the conundrum, isn’t it? It’s one of those peculiarities where even when you feel like your station in life is standing still, the numeral that marks your age keeps on ticking. Men are endowed with the gift of mortality, as Tolkien puts it, and that gift of limited time enforces norms and expectations of a person in society. At my age, I’m suppose to ‘settle down’ and get married soon, right? (That’s hilarious…)

Do you think people would be in such a hurry to get married and have kids if our biological clocks are infinite? 

Though I haven’t yet to figured out how to live forever, I don’t believe in such restrictions, and neither are my immediate friends (or so they say…) That said, in 2014 I was immensely happy to see two of my cousins get married. One was way overdue (high school sweetheart status), and the other (two years junior to me) we’re all like what’s the hurry? Ha, that age number and our perceptions of it again.  

It’s almost impossible to reconcile that soon I would have nieces and nephews of my own. Scary, even. I’m going to be the best uncle, though: the uncle that gives you money. (Not directly, of course; It’ll be in a trust!)

My cousins getting married afforded me the chance to attend a wedding for the first time as an adult. Except I didn’t simply attend, but rather activity participated. Why didn’t anybody tell me being the best man is so incredible tiresome and so much work? I’m not sure I’ve ever drank as many Starbucks expresso shots as I did on the day of the wedding. Traditional Chinese weddings are such a production that personally I rather avoid it for myself if possible (unless future imaginary wife is Chinese and wants one) From the crack of dawn to the closing of midnight, it was nonstop. 

It’s then that I realized, weddings are not for the bride and groom. Given the option I think most couples would choose the smallest of ceremonies possible, unless you’re the person that’s had dreams of that perfect wedding day since youth (my perfect wedding would be forgoing it completely and use that money that would’ve otherwise gone towards it as a down-payments towards a Porsche I mean mortgage…) Wedding events are entirely for family and friends, and especially family if you happen to be Chinese. You may not want your parents’ childhood friends at your wedding, but they do, and outside of financial restrictions I’m fairly certain your not going to argue with them. Same with those relatives you’ve only seen maybe twice in your life. 

What do a bunch of Chinese otakus do for a bachelor party? We play snooker at a pool hall, and then eat some Asian desserts. Super mundane, super fobby, no alcohol, and no stripper. Granted, it was the night of Thanksgiving. I think my cousin would have unceremoniously ejected me out of the family if I had, as the best man, taken him to a strip club.  

HOLY GROUND

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One occasion that is definitely worthy of a celebration is the San Francisco Giants winning yet another world championship in 2014. The first time in 2010 was already beyond lovely; The second one in 2012 was a purely gift; A third in five years is something I cannot put into words. Not in my wildest of sports fanaticism and hopes could I have imagined to see my favorite baseball team win three World Series in such a short period of time.      

And my sympathies for Chicago Cubs fan grow even deeper. 

Sports are not suppose to work that way. Seldom do teams have that much success in such a short time, especially in baseball, where winning it all takes every bit of skill and luck. I’m not one of those that dismisses luck, because baseball is a game where the smallest of variables can have devastating effect: a chance directional change of wind could determine the outcome of a game. A team like the Giants that barely squeaked into the playoffs needs a bit of luck to win it all. That said, I also subscribe to the notion that one must work hard to have any luck, so to say the San Francisco Giants was lucky to win the World Series is not at all dismissive of their tremendous body of work. 

It was luck that the Dodgers were eliminated by the Cardinals, and the Giants did not have to face them in the league championship round. I firmly believed we would have lost. Good thing that scenario remains fantasy, and I’m still pissed the Giants failed to capture the NL West title. (Hahahaha…

In terms of skills, it helps to have the services of arguably the best manager in the majors. It was massively satisfying during the playoffs to witness Bruce Bochy’s master class on how to manage the modern game. Opposing managers made questionable move after questionable move, while the seemingly infallible Bochy called out all the right moves from the dugout. This astonishing phenomenon also happened in 2012 and 2010, leading you to wonder why hasn’t anybody studied and learned from it.

Not that I’m complaining. 

In addition to a great manager, there’s the Rock-of-Gibraltar Buster Posey, but has a team ever relied on one singular person to take the gold more than the Giants did in 2014, riding on the vast shoulder expanse of Madison Bumgarner? It’s not hyperbole to say that sans Bumgarner, the Giants would not have had another parade down Market street.  

Sometimes you flip through the baseball history books and find transcendent pitching performances, wondering to will you yourself will ever stand to see one them. Well, I can proudly say I was alive and watching for Bumgarner’s otherworldly performance in the 2014 playoffs. Utter domination would not begin to sufficiently described what he did. You know your pitcher is good when you have slight (very slight…) thoughts of feeling sorry for the other team having to face the guy. When Bumgarner came into game 7 of the World Series to pitch in relief, I saw the desperate despondence of the Royals players and fans. It was, simply put, unfair. 

Not that I’m complaining. 

I RUN SF. KIND OF. NOT REALLY

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This year I gradually weened myself of other forms of exercise, and in their place, took to the art of running. I used to hate running, and could barely suffer through the requisite mile for PE. Now that I’ve discovered it again however, running is indeed wonderful. Next to swimming it’s the perfect exercise as far as I’m concerned. Instead of working out practically everyday as I’ve done previously, 2014 saw me only doing a five mile jaunt of Lake Merced on Sundays, with music my sole companion (because you always run alone, even if you start with others). 

For someone that tend to hate going outdoors for anything, I have to say it’s quite the turnaround. I can still remember the first time I ran the lake: my left ankle was out of commission the following week. Naturally it got better as the weeks moved on, so much so that in September I ran my first (and certainly won’t be the last) 10K event at the 2014 running of Giants Race. Aside from the ungodly wakeup time (I’m decidedly not an early-morning runner), running together with thousands upon thousands of people, with the gorgeous San Fransisco waterfront as a backdrop was incredible. If only I could bottle that euphoria as I crossed the finish line, giving Lou Seal a hearty high-five. 

And through it all, even with the dramatic scaling back in exercise frequency, I managed somehow to shed 20 pounds by summers end. I guess that famed Asian metabolism is alive and well in my body. Time to hit the buffet tables more often while I still can.

TEN THINGS I THINK REFLECTING 2014

1. A heart-felt rest-in-peace to Robin Williams, whom the world untimely lost in 2014. I seldom get caught up on the death of famous persons, but for various reasons, Williams’ death hit me like a ton of bricks. I, like many of my contemporaries, grew up watching his humor and humility. A favorite son of San Francisco, Williams is very missed. 

2. I stopped watching American football in 2014, because I cannot support a league that tolerates domestic abuse and other transgressions in order to maximize profit. Since I don’t buy anything related nor do I care to fork over the exorbitant amounts of money to go see a game live, the only way the NFL makes money off me is my eyeball to the television. Well, not any more. 

3. The most enjoyable I watched in 2014 is Guardians of the Galaxy. Suffice it to say, everything Kevin Feige touches, turns to gold. The latest offering from the colossal Marvel empire is ridiculously fun, awesome (especially that mixtape), and appeals to the sci-fi space adventure geek in me. Since it’s release on home video, I’ve watched the movie like five times.

Honorable mention to Interstellar (I’m an admitted Christopher Nolan fanatic), and Lucy (Scarlett Johansson as a femme fatale shut up and take my money). 

4. The most fun thing I purchased this year has got to be the GoPro. It’s so easy and convenient to use that you find yourself looking for excuses to go shoot and do crazy stuff. I remember having similar feelings of exploration and excitement when I first bought an DSRL camera. I only wish the GoPro’s battery life wasn’t so anemic, but at least extra batteries are cheap. 

5. I value work-life balance greatly, and to that end I cannot be happier with my current job. The university atmosphere keeps it young and energetic, with the natural cadence of academic life allowing more than adequate time off and opportunities to decompress. I may not make as much as the equivalent in the private sector, but on the happiness scale there’s no comparison. 

6. In times of digital consumption and mass-produced products from China, I find myself putting more value towards stuff that are analog and hand-made. For example, photographs are infinitely better printed out on paper stock than digitally imprisoned on the screen of our mobile devices. There’s something special about the tactility and tangibleness of actual objects. Any book or album I particularly enjoy, I make it a point to buy it in physical form. 

Bespoke products made with actual human hands are well worth the premium. Nothing fits like a tailored suit. There’s beauty in exquisite craftsmanship and artisanal technique you won’t find in a factory in China. 

7. “When you admire the work of artists or writers, tell them. And spend money to acquire their work.

On the same token, support small businesses, local or otherwise, with your cash. As mentioned, I’m not exactly cavalier with my money, but given the option and opportunity, I definitely make an effort to support ‘the little guy’. 

8. Sometimes it’s okay to trade money for convenience; For someone raised on miserly principles, I’ve had trouble latching on to that ethos, but I’m getting there. As you get older, you come to the recognition that the value of time trumps all. Some things simply isn’t worth the hassle: that time is better spent elsewhere. I’m perfectly capable of performing maintenance procedures on my car, but I elect to spend the money on servicing it at the dealership. Drop it off before work, pick it up after work; There’s a free shuttle to and from. 

9. Facebook is of no use to me, and towards the end of 2014 I quit the platform entirely. I don’t really want nor need to keep tabs on so many people, most of whom I’ll never see again in my life. Checking Facebook became a distraction and time-waster, one I could do without. Instagram and Twitter is where I’ll be. For now. 

10. Numerous times during 2014, I’ve definitely been lethargic towards doing anything, and that’s not okay. Too much to learn, see, and do for that to be happening.

BEAUTIFUL TIMES

This is the part of the blog post where I usually summarize the year and say a few words about the year to follow. Strangely though, I haven’t got much thought about 2015, even as I am writing these words on the last day of 2014. People tend to symbolize the completely turn of the calendar as some significant signal towards renewal or new possibilities. Good for them, I say, but for me, tomorrow is just another day. The only change is that I’ve got a shiny new personalized Calendar in place of last year’s. If 2015 is largely more of the same as my 2014, that would already be tremendous (Giants win the World Series again? Yes?). 

And we go on…! 

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2014 ITUNES TOP TEN PLAYS

1. NS Yoon-G - If You Love Me (feat. Jay Park)
2. Henry Lau - Butterfly (Feat. 슬기 of SMROOKIES)
3. Girls' Generation - Mr.Mr.
4. 소유 (SoYou) X 정기고 (JungGiGo) - 썸 (Some) feat. 긱스 릴보이 (Lil Boi of Geeks)
5. EXO - 중독 (Overdose)
6. 潘瑋柏 Wilber Pan - 不的不愛 Got to Love (ft. 弦子 Xianzi)
7. SHINee - Love like Oxygen (산소 같은 너)
8. Owl City - Up All Night
9. Red Velvet - Be Natural (Feat. SR14B `Taeyong (태용)`)
10. Taylor Swift - Blank Space

Aren't we so lucky - 2013 reflections

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So, where to begin? 

2013 was quite mundane compared to previous years. It’s what happens when I’m two years removed from the (probable) end of my educational life and entering workforce as an “adult”. I say probable because I’ve yet to determine whether or not pursuing a graduate degree is worth the considerable time and concentration (doesn’t help that I’ve develop a smidgen of apathy towards being enslaved to the academic machine once more). Anyways, there’s only so much excitement to spread around when week after week you do the exact same thing at work. I don’t think I’ve looked forward to weekends more than I had this year, purely because that’s where all the fun happened.

Ironically, I haven’t exactly left academia at all; my place of employment, after all, is a college campus. No complaints from me though, because while I’m increasingly antagonistic towards going back to school for an advance degree, I must say I enjoy immensely the vibe and lifestyle offered by a college campus. In a way it keeps me young - and young at heart - because the median age of the immediate surroundings at work is always at a constant high teens to low twenties. I turned 26 this year (where it all goes downhill from, right?), but I don’t feel at all that age. Innately I feel just as wet behind the ears as ever. What doesn’t help the situation though, is seeing many friends of a similar age getting on with the business of marriage and procreation. Meanwhile, I’m over here screaming: what on earth is the rush? 

Indeed, it’s gotten to that point, hasn’t it? I’m at the age where acquaintances left and right are settling down (or have settled) to form families of their own. Stable employment does that, I guess (and love, haha). Good for those people, of course: just because I’m nowhere near that point in my own timeline doesn’t mean I throw ninja stars full of question marks every time I see a new engagement announcement or pregnancy press release. Funny thing is, none of my immediate group of friends are even remotely close to that sort of stuff, which gives credence to that whole “you are the company you keep” spiel. Hey, at least I won’t have to hear “yeah… we’re going to stay home tonight.” when hang-out solicitations are sent. 

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Of course, countless thanks to the higher spirits that I have gainful employment amidst the turmoil that still is the United States economy (my god I must have been watching FOX news). 2013 is the first year that I’ve ever held a full-time job (well, if you discount much of January), and the stability it has brought to my life is immeasurable. Having a solid sense of purpose everyday when I wake up and actually looking forward to going to work is, as Gollum would say, precious. However, as with any public university job that isn’t management, the pay is what can be best described as mediocre - especially when I live in the third most expensive city in America to live.

It’s enough for me, though. Every time I encounter negative employment news such as the fast-food workers strike or the termination of unemployment benefits, I’m reminded just how lucky I am. Low wages, income uncertainty, and job search futility -  I’ve been there, and it isn’t at all fun. Plus, everything else about my current job is so spectacularly awesome. One of which, is my commute to work doesn’t consist of me being mired in Bay Area’s infamous traffic gridlock. I’d gladly trade a few ten thousands in dollars earned to not have to sit in traffic for hours on end, every single day. Time is money, as they say, and nothing piss away money faster and more miserably than sitting amongst a sea of cars, all going slower than people can walk. 

So how is it possible that I can live in the great expensive city of San Francisco when I’m getting paid less than a BART train operator? (There’s a joke in there somewhere). Fortunately, because I’m decidedly Asian (last I checked), there is no social stigma in my culture for living with your parents pass the age of 18. So, instead of using a significant chunk of my monthly paycheck towards renting a place, I get to put most of it towards investment accounts. Which, speaking of, 2013 was a solid year for stocks and mutual funds, and I must humbly brag that my investment portfolio is looking very nice indeed. Anyways, I’m not saying moving out on your own and doing for yourself is a terrible thing (we all have to do it eventually), I’m just glad I have that option to choose, instead of getting unceremoniously kicked out of the house at a predetermined age. 

Because if there is one important lesson I take away from 2013, it’s that spending time with your family is incredibly important, especially when you’re still young and single. Perhaps it’s all too easy to get caught up in being independent and experiencing the world, but you - and your parents - are only as young as you’ll ever be, today. I certainly don’t want to be that person who regrets not having spent more time with the parents only when said parents are sick in a hospital bed, or gone to the heavens. We need to spend time with our family while we are still able, healthy, and on our end, not tied down with spouses and kids of our own.

There will come a day when I’m only going to see my parents during the scant few holidays we get in America (meanwhile, most of Europe gets the entire month of August, off), because real life will certainly get in the way. In the meantime, I’ve made it a point to allocate a portion of all my weekends to hang-out with the father and mother. While I still can.

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Portions of the weekend not spent with family, I’ve mainly dedicated it to my beloved car, the Subaru Impreza WRX STI. The joke is the car has become a substitute for a girlfriend, and it really isn’t far from the truth (haha!). There’s not much better on a weekend day than spending a few hours cleaning up the STI, and then taking it out for a spirited drive on one of the numerous mountain roads the Bay Area is so blessedly endowed with. It’s horrendous on gas, sure, but what car isn’t that can go from zero-to-sixty miles-per-hour in under five seconds. Besides, the car’s significant running costs (lost the windshield to a rogue traveling rock this year, which was quite the ouch to the wallet) escapes the mind as soon as I mash the throttle. Driving the STI brings a smile to my face each and every time I get in it,, and having a daily driven car that can do that for you is one of the core tenets of being a car enthusiasts.

With the STI in tow, I made a few ventures southwards this year, utilizing the blissful stretch of tarmac that is the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH). The first time was back in July, when I took the weekend to traverse the entire length from San Francisco to Los Angeles. It was an arduous 12 hour affair, and most of the time I was stuck behind slow-driving SUVs that refused to let faster cars behind them go past. However, the spectacular views (the skies cooperated very nicely) and the winding road was as advertised, and more. I highly recommended those traveling to LA and have got the time to spare, take the PCH instead of Highway 5 - twist and turns with a view beats driving in a straight line looking at cow manure any day. The STI’s seats proved their worth as my back didn’t complain at all after the 12 hours, though my feet had a completely different opinion. I guess Chuck Taylors aren’t the best driving shoes for trips of considerable distances. 

I love the PCH so much I went back a second time early October, this time along with other car enthusiasts (there was nearly 20 of us). Good times are best shared, right? At least it made slow cars more willing to move over, because having 20 loud sports cars in a train behind you is a frightening scene indeed (ah, the power in numbers). Driving in a group also meant being with people with more knowledge of landmarks and places of interest. This second drive on the PCH was definitely more scenic than the first. I certainly wouldn’t have gone on a tour of Hearst’s Castle in San Simeon had I gone by lonesome.

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Speaking of cars, I started new blog this year dedicated to them. Since my personal life hasn’t been nearly as exciting as previous years, I decided to exclusively write about one of my greatest interests. Povertyspec.com is chock full of random editorials about all facets of the automobile, from individual models, the technologies, to the greater industry as a whole. Having written nearly 90 posts in a span of five months is pretty prodigious, if I do say so myself (and I do). Blogging has continued to be is a good excuse for me to hone my non-college educated journalism skills. I shuttered my separate photography blog (pun intended), and this blog with under my namesake has largely become its replacement. 

2013 marked the first time I’ve made the prerequisite pilgrimage to that small town in the desert, Paradise, Nevada. Some might say the age of 25 is much too old to be making the first (adult) trip to Las Vegas, but honestly the timing just hasn’t gotten right until this year. Never known to be the life of the party or a compulsive gambler, I think this year was as good as any to see Vegas for myself. It’s really all one huge, never-ending party, isn’t it? The awesome food, the great shows, and the overflow of drinks simply doesn’t stop for the entire duration. I can definitely see the allure of Vegas for many of my peers, because compressed down to it, it’s an escape

As for me, it’s merely a ticked check-box on the bucket list. I don’t think I will be making another trip to Vegas again anytime soon. Not to say I didn’t enjoy it, because I had an awesome three days with my friends. (I found out exactly how long a Las Vegas block (off the strip) is, and I will never venture to walk one ever again.) It’s just that there is so much to see and do in this world that it’d be a personal disservice to visit a place more than once within a short time-frame (says the guy that drove on the PCH twice this year). A trip to Vegas isn’t particularly cheap (and I didn’t even gamble!), and I much rather allocate that money next time to go visit another awesome place.

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Midway through the year, I started the 16/8 intermittent fasting program. It dictates that I must eat my daily required intake of food within an eight hour period (three big meals, in my case), after which I mustn’t eat for the next 16 hours. The fasting is suppose to significantly increase the body’s growth and repair hormones, something it can’t normally do if you keep stuffing it with food. I haven’t stop doing it since, because it has been, and continues to be, wonderful for me. Not having to worry about the old “eat every three hours” routine has been liberating, and I’ve ceased to have the typical hunger pangs. In fact, I seldom get the “hungry” feeling anymore, even when it’s the end of the 16 hour fast and my stomach cannot be more empty. Combined with my usual regiment of healthy eating and regular exercise, I feel awesome and full of energy ever day. 

When it comes to sports, now that I thought about it, 2013 was bad. Bad, because expectations were so high. Not for me to complain after winning two championships in the past three years, but the San Francisco Giants stunk up the joint during the 2013 season. I do wish the team doesn’t get the World Series hangover the season immediately after (same thing happened in 2011), but it appears to be inevitable with the men in orange. Of course, it’s always an good time (as Carly Rae Jepsen and that Owl City guy would say) to go see games live at the cathedral that is AT&T park. That’s the beauty of baseball: even when your team isn’t going particularly well, there’s enough games in a season that many, many, good things can still happen. Losing season as it may, I won’t soon forget epic-ness that happened like the Tim Lincecum no-hitter in San Diego, Pagan’s walk-off, Pablo’s three home-runs in one game, and many other heroics, that’s for sure. 

As for the 49ers, I didn’t think I can be more heartbroken than back in 2012’s NFC championship game when Kyle Williams fumbled that punt. Well, what happened in the Super Bowl back in February proved me wrong. Granted, as whole it’s awesome to see the 49ers get back to being perennial Super Bowl contenders, but being a scant six yards away from winning it all, that’s a heartbreaker if there ever is one. Perhaps it’s just too much to ask the sports gods to grant two teams from one city winning their respective championships in the same season. Now that the baseball Giants have failed to defend their championship this season, perhaps it’s good sign for the 49ers heading into the playoffs early next year. One step at a time, right? Lose NFC championship last year, this year win NFC championship. Lose Super Bowl this year, so next up is surely: win Super Bowl. 

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So, that’s pretty much 2013. Just your typical twenty-something adult life: work for five days, and then play on the weekends. I do wish I’d travel more, and I took the least amount of photographs this year since starting the hobby many moons ago. I hope to rectify these two things in 2014, but other than that, hopefully much of the same as this year. As long as we have our health, family and friends, a roof over our heads, and a steady job, we’re all so very lucky, indeed. 

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The top 10 most played songs on my iTunes, 2013: