I just watched A Single Man with Colin Firth and Julianne Moore. For all the high praise it got, I'm not too sure what I expected, but I was definitely less than satisfied when it ended. But I suppose the ending fit the general feel of the film. The whole affair is pretty pompous and melodramatic, not helped by its stringy and long-winded score. It's not a particularly poorly written soundtrack, nor a poor movie for that matter. It's just that I feel however poignant it gets, the build up takes too long to allow it an equal payoff.
That being said, it's a wonderfully stylish film. 2.5/4.
The other day my mom and dad and I were eating outside. It was dinner time, and my dad was on his laptop outside, as he usually is. Being summer, the sun had yet to set for a few more hours, and hunger struck our bellies like a lightning storm above a volcano. My brother was in Vietnam at the time, so he couldn't join us, naturally. My mom and I saw my dad outside and we decided to join his lonesome on the small table we have in the backyard next to my dad's makeshift hammock.
Our backyard was large, and where a patio could have been, we instead had cement laid out with a wooden roof I believe my dad made himself when we moved first arrived. We had two sliding doors on opposite ends of our house that led into the backyard. The roof covered the width of our house so no matter which door we slid open to enter, we'd be covered. One door was in the family room. When we first moved in, opening that door led to a clear view of the backyard. However, over the years a large ivy-like bush of flowers had extended from the ground to the room, providing shade onto the patio area. This was where the hammock was fastened, behind where the roof ended and covered by the big plant.
The other door, behind our kitchen, was opened and led right near a table where my dad was sitting. It was through this door that my mom and I exited to sit next to my dad.
"Who do you think is better-looking, bố?" I asked my dad during dinner. The sun was still up and the lack of humidity in the clear California weather was a blessing I never took for granted. The occasional breeze hugged my skin like a quiet lover, always gentle and soothing.
To his children, my dad is a generally reserved man. He projects the persona of the dominant male figure of the household and generally doesn't indulge us when we are silly. However, through the years, my brother and I have found that around his friends, he is extremely social and jovial, so we know that he can be very easygoing. Thus, unless he's giving us direct orders, we love joking around with him and being as ridiculous as possible.
"Me or you?" I clarified.
"Andrew, you can't be serious," my mom interjected. "Bố is much better looking, especially when he was younger. He was so handsome." She smiled.
My dad stared off, quietly, as he is apt to do. He spoke as if he wasn't really listening and answered as if he only heard the question in passing. It always seemed like he was thinking about something else, distracted even when talking to his children.
"Bố don't know. Probably you," he replied quietly before taking another chopstickful of rice.
I laughed.
"See?" I told my mom. "Even he admits I'm more handsome!" I told her jokingly.
"No. Definitely not," she said, looking at my father lovingly.
"Well," I said, thinking aloud to my dad, "who's better looking, bố? You or Matthew?"
There was less hesitation this time.
"Matthew," he said, more quickly, but still in his special reserved tone. "He's taller and has long eyelashes."
"Oh, Matthew is so handsome!" my mom said. "And he has those beautiful baby eyes!"
I thought about what she said for a second. It was then, I realized, that my mom thinks I'm the ugliest guy in our family.
Sad times.
Showing posts with label Matthew Nguyen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matthew Nguyen. Show all posts
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Unsettling
I've been playing a lot more Settlers of Catan lately. For the uninitiated, it's a board game I started playing a few years back, introduced to me by my friend Verde and company. My brother happens to be very good at it, and I don't think I'm terrible either.
The object of the game is to garner 10 points, gained by building structures and other things. The main driving force of the game, however, and its main appeal stems from the trading aspect of it. Players can trade resources with one another, which leads to various peculiar situations involving loyalty and kindness, or lack thereof.
I have thus begun a reputation for being devious and manipulative. In real life, just the other day, I was told that I would not convince Danny with "my words." He used quotations in real life too, which I thought was bizarre.
So what do you think? Do I use my words to manipulate too much?
The object of the game is to garner 10 points, gained by building structures and other things. The main driving force of the game, however, and its main appeal stems from the trading aspect of it. Players can trade resources with one another, which leads to various peculiar situations involving loyalty and kindness, or lack thereof.
I have thus begun a reputation for being devious and manipulative. In real life, just the other day, I was told that I would not convince Danny with "my words." He used quotations in real life too, which I thought was bizarre.
So what do you think? Do I use my words to manipulate too much?
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Flashback, Memories
I have just spent that last 3 or 4 hours reading my old Xanga. I admit to making myself chuckle sometimes, but in doing so, I realized that my laughter came from hearing the joke the first time. It seems like I've changed so much that I don't expect what comes out of me anymore, even though I've already expressed it.
There are lots of things I've learned from reading some of my old stuff. Primarily, I'm a horrible poet. I personally blame all my "friends" who told me I was good. I reread some of the crap I wrote, and a vast majority of them are poorly written. I am proud, however, to say that they are not nonsensical, so at least I make sense to myself.
Another thing I learned is that I am always learning. I read a bit over a year's worth of Xanga entries, and I literally followed my own growth and memories. It's a harrowing alleyway, but memory lane is somehow satisfying in its answers. It refills the part of me that was missing myself. Sometimes we lose sight of who we are, forgetting that an important part of that is who we were.
In addition, I've found myself, like I assume many teenagers are, to be addicted to attention. I crave(d) it. I don't know what I'll think when I look back on this particular post, but I do know that I'll be happy I have some account of my personal thoughts, to see and remind myself of myself, if that makes sense.
I did this a few times already, but I guess here's a previously written entry, raw from the crypts of Mista_ex93's Xanga, dated Saturday, 15 October 2005:
"I jumped into the blackness and started writing...
Meaning I clicked "New Weblog Entry" on my Xanga, since it's so black and dark and all. I think I set a personal record. I slept for 16 hours straight. There were a few breaks, like when I called Alex/Daniel/Abbie around 12:15, but other than that, I slept from about 1:15 AM until 5:15 PM. I just realized that for the first time in my life, I received too much sleep. I never thought it possible until now. I got up and brushed my teeth. I admit, that it was probably one of the best sleeps I have ever had, but now I can't help but regret it. It's like you love something sooooo much, yet you know it's bad for you. I am still groggy as we speak. I still love it though. I still do.
Yellow Goodwill Tires.
Let me begin here then. Hello, avid Xanga readers. I know, I know, Xanga is TERRIBLY out of fashion what with Myspace's takeover of the blog/photo/friend world. Admittedly, I myself have a Myspace, yet I can't help myself but to feel loyal to the one blog site that has remained with me in my days of socializing. Ever since the summer before freshman year at Bellarmine, Xanga has remained to me a loyal friend, unbroken in its patience and feedback. So, I find myself here again, over two years later, "blogging" to the tacit world of my life.
But it's different now. The world still remains silent at my rants, and I am still adamant to rant. However, the world has changed and I have changed. Things are always changing, and whether they are for the better or worse, I am not at liberty to say. It is much more practical and sensible to just say: Things are changing and let's just accept that they are.
Heffalump
What is with October birthdays? How can so many people be born in the same month? I am going to try and list the people right now, but keep in mind that this makes up only a small percentage of the people I know, yet just forgot when their birthdays were: John, Rosemary, Andy, Mom, Desiree, Alex Tai, Victoria, Grant Bauer, Eric Masch, Vivian, Bryan Nguyen, Andrew Strawbridge....
A few of them I don't know very well, yet regardless of that, the fact that I have heard of them makes me wary. I just don't understand how so many people can be born in the same month. Until this month, I had thought that the month with the most birthdays was November, but I question the validity of that fact. I mean, shit! Hella people in October.
Door hinge on the X-wing.
I met and old friend yesterday. Over the past year I saw her more often than I thought I would, since I thought I put the St. Justin's life behind me for the most part. I am sure she doesn't read my Xanga (and for that matter, neither do most people), so I am just going to use her name. Olivia Teixeira. She is a really nice girl; well, she was at St. Justin's in my more adolescent years, and from what I see of her now, she still seems to be a really nice gal. Well I saw her again yesterday (Friday) at practice for A Few Good Men. Now, her brother, Eric, and my brother, Matt, are apparently really close friends, so I tend to see Eric a lot. I never usually think of Olivia when I see Eric though. Luckily for him, I see him as an individual and not a spawn off my friend Olivia. Well, I see Olivia again, smiling like she always used to when I knew her and the short time I spent with her was all smiles as usual. She started off the conversation asking what happened between me and (dare I repeat the name?) Jeri. I glossed over it, being the touchy subject it was. We were all smiles again. I was also very mean to her in what I saw as a joking way. I know I must have crossed the line somewhere, but I guess that's just who I am. I did not know how else to deal with an old friend. Well she took it as a cue to be mean to me back, which is perfectly okay; I can take dishes as well as I can give them out and often times even better than I can give them out. Well, she dished one my way..."Thanks for breaking Jeri's heart," she quipped as she walked away. I quickly got over my shock and said, in a seemingly joking manner, "Ouch! Straight though the heart!" She laughed and walked away, "Bye Andrew!" That girl is fun. And I felt like shit. I tried to call to her and say, "It hurts more to hurt someone than it does to be hurt," but I doubt she got me. I don't blame her. I'm an asshole.
Newborn Purple Stars.
How can anyone be so fearless? It kills you when the ideal you tentatively called "love" is shaken at its roots. Why? Because you passed the point when you no longer "tentatively" called it so, but rather, you walked confidently into the realms in which you could call it "love" with neither fear nor diffidence. You called it "love" because it was simply that and you knew it was love. There is no explanation for why it was so; it just was. Love just was. But now you are dying because as it turns out, it wasn't. Love wasn't that. It appears that you were completely wrong and now you walk with your head down in shame because you were wrong. You live in sadness everyday. And along comes a spider. You sat down beside her. And all your errors were thrown away. Now it gets complicated. You had lived your life according to simplicity, thinking that everything boiled down to something simpler, thinking life was simple and that was what made it worth living. But this is the raw form of complexity with which you can't boil it down to simplicity. You don't get it, and you want to. You are afraid. Everything tells you not to be. But you are afraid. You thought there was no such thing as anyone who was fearless. How was it possible that someone can live as the true Romantic? (The Romantic who follows his/her heart and looks inside his/herself in order to order the chaos of the world. The real Romantic; not the shit-ass one who believes in love and all that sappy shit. The Romantic that undoubtedly most of you are learning in your Literature classes. The Romantic.) You found the Romantic and she defies all your conceptions of the perfect girl. You thought the perfect girl had these characteristics and behaved like this and looked like this. But she is the perfect girl too and she did not qualify by your standards. On Josh's scale, she was a 6 or 7 but still a 10. She contradicts everything you believed and believe. And you are afraid.
Silver Mushroom.
Because someone else is seemingly perfect too. Yeah, I'll say it: There's a choice between what you thought was perfect and what you think is perfect, and both make sense.
The Panic Button
I went to Tri's house last night. We argued certain points and concluded that in this life, you gotta "be prepared" for the next. Lisa claimed that "love isn't love until it hurts" meaning that love is only proven through pain. I disagreed and agreed. Pain can define love but it doesn't always do so. It's just because we are afraid of pain and suffering. We are too afraid to risk and too afraid to step blindly with faith. We are, meaning I am, too afraid of it. But I guess Lisa must be somewhat right since all these guys are calling her up all the time.
We played charades last night for a little over an hour. What I have mentioned was only part of what we tried to charade.
Leave a comment for me by which I can define myself."
Thanks for reading, guys.
There are lots of things I've learned from reading some of my old stuff. Primarily, I'm a horrible poet. I personally blame all my "friends" who told me I was good. I reread some of the crap I wrote, and a vast majority of them are poorly written. I am proud, however, to say that they are not nonsensical, so at least I make sense to myself.
Another thing I learned is that I am always learning. I read a bit over a year's worth of Xanga entries, and I literally followed my own growth and memories. It's a harrowing alleyway, but memory lane is somehow satisfying in its answers. It refills the part of me that was missing myself. Sometimes we lose sight of who we are, forgetting that an important part of that is who we were.
In addition, I've found myself, like I assume many teenagers are, to be addicted to attention. I crave(d) it. I don't know what I'll think when I look back on this particular post, but I do know that I'll be happy I have some account of my personal thoughts, to see and remind myself of myself, if that makes sense.
I did this a few times already, but I guess here's a previously written entry, raw from the crypts of Mista_ex93's Xanga, dated Saturday, 15 October 2005:
"I jumped into the blackness and started writing...
Meaning I clicked "New Weblog Entry" on my Xanga, since it's so black and dark and all. I think I set a personal record. I slept for 16 hours straight. There were a few breaks, like when I called Alex/Daniel/Abbie around 12:15, but other than that, I slept from about 1:15 AM until 5:15 PM. I just realized that for the first time in my life, I received too much sleep. I never thought it possible until now. I got up and brushed my teeth. I admit, that it was probably one of the best sleeps I have ever had, but now I can't help but regret it. It's like you love something sooooo much, yet you know it's bad for you. I am still groggy as we speak. I still love it though. I still do.
Yellow Goodwill Tires.
Let me begin here then. Hello, avid Xanga readers. I know, I know, Xanga is TERRIBLY out of fashion what with Myspace's takeover of the blog/photo/friend world. Admittedly, I myself have a Myspace, yet I can't help myself but to feel loyal to the one blog site that has remained with me in my days of socializing. Ever since the summer before freshman year at Bellarmine, Xanga has remained to me a loyal friend, unbroken in its patience and feedback. So, I find myself here again, over two years later, "blogging" to the tacit world of my life.
But it's different now. The world still remains silent at my rants, and I am still adamant to rant. However, the world has changed and I have changed. Things are always changing, and whether they are for the better or worse, I am not at liberty to say. It is much more practical and sensible to just say: Things are changing and let's just accept that they are.
Heffalump
What is with October birthdays? How can so many people be born in the same month? I am going to try and list the people right now, but keep in mind that this makes up only a small percentage of the people I know, yet just forgot when their birthdays were: John, Rosemary, Andy, Mom, Desiree, Alex Tai, Victoria, Grant Bauer, Eric Masch, Vivian, Bryan Nguyen, Andrew Strawbridge....
A few of them I don't know very well, yet regardless of that, the fact that I have heard of them makes me wary. I just don't understand how so many people can be born in the same month. Until this month, I had thought that the month with the most birthdays was November, but I question the validity of that fact. I mean, shit! Hella people in October.
Door hinge on the X-wing.
I met and old friend yesterday. Over the past year I saw her more often than I thought I would, since I thought I put the St. Justin's life behind me for the most part. I am sure she doesn't read my Xanga (and for that matter, neither do most people), so I am just going to use her name. Olivia Teixeira. She is a really nice girl; well, she was at St. Justin's in my more adolescent years, and from what I see of her now, she still seems to be a really nice gal. Well I saw her again yesterday (Friday) at practice for A Few Good Men. Now, her brother, Eric, and my brother, Matt, are apparently really close friends, so I tend to see Eric a lot. I never usually think of Olivia when I see Eric though. Luckily for him, I see him as an individual and not a spawn off my friend Olivia. Well, I see Olivia again, smiling like she always used to when I knew her and the short time I spent with her was all smiles as usual. She started off the conversation asking what happened between me and (dare I repeat the name?) Jeri. I glossed over it, being the touchy subject it was. We were all smiles again. I was also very mean to her in what I saw as a joking way. I know I must have crossed the line somewhere, but I guess that's just who I am. I did not know how else to deal with an old friend. Well she took it as a cue to be mean to me back, which is perfectly okay; I can take dishes as well as I can give them out and often times even better than I can give them out. Well, she dished one my way..."Thanks for breaking Jeri's heart," she quipped as she walked away. I quickly got over my shock and said, in a seemingly joking manner, "Ouch! Straight though the heart!" She laughed and walked away, "Bye Andrew!" That girl is fun. And I felt like shit. I tried to call to her and say, "It hurts more to hurt someone than it does to be hurt," but I doubt she got me. I don't blame her. I'm an asshole.
Newborn Purple Stars.
How can anyone be so fearless? It kills you when the ideal you tentatively called "love" is shaken at its roots. Why? Because you passed the point when you no longer "tentatively" called it so, but rather, you walked confidently into the realms in which you could call it "love" with neither fear nor diffidence. You called it "love" because it was simply that and you knew it was love. There is no explanation for why it was so; it just was. Love just was. But now you are dying because as it turns out, it wasn't. Love wasn't that. It appears that you were completely wrong and now you walk with your head down in shame because you were wrong. You live in sadness everyday. And along comes a spider. You sat down beside her. And all your errors were thrown away. Now it gets complicated. You had lived your life according to simplicity, thinking that everything boiled down to something simpler, thinking life was simple and that was what made it worth living. But this is the raw form of complexity with which you can't boil it down to simplicity. You don't get it, and you want to. You are afraid. Everything tells you not to be. But you are afraid. You thought there was no such thing as anyone who was fearless. How was it possible that someone can live as the true Romantic? (The Romantic who follows his/her heart and looks inside his/herself in order to order the chaos of the world. The real Romantic; not the shit-ass one who believes in love and all that sappy shit. The Romantic that undoubtedly most of you are learning in your Literature classes. The Romantic.) You found the Romantic and she defies all your conceptions of the perfect girl. You thought the perfect girl had these characteristics and behaved like this and looked like this. But she is the perfect girl too and she did not qualify by your standards. On Josh's scale, she was a 6 or 7 but still a 10. She contradicts everything you believed and believe. And you are afraid.
Silver Mushroom.
Because someone else is seemingly perfect too. Yeah, I'll say it: There's a choice between what you thought was perfect and what you think is perfect, and both make sense.
The Panic Button
I went to Tri's house last night. We argued certain points and concluded that in this life, you gotta "be prepared" for the next. Lisa claimed that "love isn't love until it hurts" meaning that love is only proven through pain. I disagreed and agreed. Pain can define love but it doesn't always do so. It's just because we are afraid of pain and suffering. We are too afraid to risk and too afraid to step blindly with faith. We are, meaning I am, too afraid of it. But I guess Lisa must be somewhat right since all these guys are calling her up all the time.
We played charades last night for a little over an hour. What I have mentioned was only part of what we tried to charade.
Leave a comment for me by which I can define myself."
Thanks for reading, guys.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Denver Overload
I got a call from Anna, Cece, Hien and I think Lana. It was 4AM. Wonderful. Haha, they're hilarious, those Denver girls. I hope the retreat went well.
About 15 hours later, Matt and I picked up Quyen from Lion Plaza. I met her parents, who are very chill and funny. We ate at Sushi Boat, which was ok. Matt was marveling at the carousel of boats going counter-clockwise with its crew of sushi plates aboard.
He commented at how many boats there were, how it was so hard to choose a boat from so many.
And I of course commented, "Now you know how our parents felt."
There were a lot of edamame plates. Matt and I decided to place six of them on one boat, just to throw people off. Quyen, of course, wanted nothing to do with it.
"OMG, I don't know you guys," was her constant intersession.
Well, for those of you who understand the dynamics of sushi-boating, it takes a bit of time before one round is complete. So Matt and I got 3 or 4 plates of edamame on one boat. Running out of said edamame plates, we waited, plucking up innocent edamame plates along the way so as to hold them off for the mother ship.
I see our boat coming back around, and Matt and I make quick of our work. We run out again however, and only got about 4 on the boat. So we just waiting one more time for the carousel to come back around, again plucking up more plates of edamame.
Then, I catch a glimpse of the boat.
"Damn it," I exclaimed. "Guess what Matt?"
"What," was his reply.
"Wrong boat."
"What?"
We had almost covered up two different boats with edamame.
Epic edamame fail.
But at least we got frozen yogurt later. =)
About 15 hours later, Matt and I picked up Quyen from Lion Plaza. I met her parents, who are very chill and funny. We ate at Sushi Boat, which was ok. Matt was marveling at the carousel of boats going counter-clockwise with its crew of sushi plates aboard.
He commented at how many boats there were, how it was so hard to choose a boat from so many.
And I of course commented, "Now you know how our parents felt."
There were a lot of edamame plates. Matt and I decided to place six of them on one boat, just to throw people off. Quyen, of course, wanted nothing to do with it.
"OMG, I don't know you guys," was her constant intersession.
Well, for those of you who understand the dynamics of sushi-boating, it takes a bit of time before one round is complete. So Matt and I got 3 or 4 plates of edamame on one boat. Running out of said edamame plates, we waited, plucking up innocent edamame plates along the way so as to hold them off for the mother ship.
I see our boat coming back around, and Matt and I make quick of our work. We run out again however, and only got about 4 on the boat. So we just waiting one more time for the carousel to come back around, again plucking up more plates of edamame.
Then, I catch a glimpse of the boat.
"Damn it," I exclaimed. "Guess what Matt?"
"What," was his reply.
"Wrong boat."
"What?"
We had almost covered up two different boats with edamame.
Epic edamame fail.
But at least we got frozen yogurt later. =)
Friday, February 6, 2009
Matthew Strikes Again (Feb. 2)
SO. I'm checkin' out Matt's Xanga (which all of you should follow) and he asked his readers to do something, so instead of studying for physics, I'll do it.
"24 HOURS TO LIVE! (AKA 24 HOURS UNTIL YOU DIE)
Must Have...
- Minimum 8 Hours of Sleep
- Freedom to go anywhere (instant transporation)
- Can go with anyone you want, or alone, at any time
- At some point in the day, you must take two tests (15 minutes each)
- One of the tests must be a rigorous academic subject that you are good at
- The other test must be on an academic subject that you care about the most/are most interested in
- If you pass these two tests, you will be able to fix any significant social/political problem in the world. What would you fix?
- Where do you go, who is with you, and what do you do there?
12 AM -
1AM -
2AM -
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5AM -
6AM -
7AM -
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9AM -
10AM -
11AM -
12PM -
1PM -
2PM -
3PM -
4PM -
5PM -
6PM -
7PM -
8PM -
9PM -
10PM -
11PM -
12AM -
What would you do?
Places to go?
Activities?
Abilities?
People?
Interests?
Concerns?
Talk to me about it after... If enough people fill it out, I'll type up mine! :D!"
12AM-5AM: I'll sleep and wake up just before the sunrise, so I can catch it one last time with the woman I love on a beach somewhere nowhere near civilization. I know, I know. Those of you who know me well are probably thinking, "No way Andrew can get up that early! Freakin' lazy-ass mother fu-" But this is a hypothetical so just let me have my fun, ok? =)
5AM-7AM: I'd eat breakfast with aforementioned woman while watching the sunrise. We'll talk and laugh and just be all smiles. Breakfast will include sausages and eggs and tater tots. Wait, wtf? That's what I eat at the dining hall...talk about pathetic aspirations. Anyways, the food itself hardly matters, as long as I get to eat something and enjoy my morning.
7AM-10AM: After I eat and watch the sunrise and change my Facebook status accordingly, I'd take a 3 hour nap. I freakin' woke up hella early!
"Andrew Nguyen just had an amazing morning with [insert name here], watching the sun rise on a deserted island and enjoying each other's company! About 2 minutes ago. - Comment"
10AM-11AM: I'd take my two tests. The first one would be an essay test. I'd probably take the essay portion of the SAT I again, since I did pretty well every time I took it. Then, after those first 15 minutes, I'd take a 30 minute break to cram for a Human Anatomy test, which is the required course I'm taking now for my degree, leading the way to a dental school acceptance hopefully. The world problem I'd fix would be world hunger. I think everyone should have a chance to be nourished. That way, they can be healthy to make good decisions. I just want everyone to be happy =)
11AM-12:30PM: I'll probably go to Church. I want it to be a Sunday celebration, with one of my friends presiding, and any other friends who happen to be priests also present behind the alter. Also behind the alter I'd like Cha Tri Dinh, simply because he really, really, really knows how to help out alter servers. Yes, I'm speaking as the voice of experience. Matt and I would have walked around aimlessly without him.
Also, I'd like the FLOCK Choir to sing for mass. The gathering song will be "Go to Distance" from Hercules. I want Tri Phan and Thuy Angela to sing the Responsorial Psalm and generally lead the vocals with the rest of FLOCK backing them up. Anh Hoan will conduct and My will be on piano when she's not singing. The music will be the Mass of Glory setting by Bob Hurd. I'd like to be the one to deliver the homily, giving insights about my life and my observations. I'd make it as funny as possible too so that Jesus himself will un-nail himself from the cross to slap his knee and clutch his ribs.
I hope water doesn't spill out, though.
Ok, ok, I'm going to hell, I know.
The Nicene Creed will be sung in Vietnamese as Kinh Tin Kính even though technically, it's missing some parts. Also, the peace-giving part will be long like it is at Youth Mass because everyone will give everyone a hug. The congregation will consist of all my friends, if they so choose to come. Normally, I hate it when that part lasts a long time, not because I don't like to extend peace, but because some people give peace while others stand around uncomfortably. If everyone was involved and it was long, I wouldn't mind. I just don't like leaving people out. That's why when I sang in FLOCK, I was the first one back to the choir section, ready to sing the Lamb of God. I don't like leaving members of the congregation out.
Anywho, after communion (which will feature "The Servant Song" as the song), FLOCK will regale us with a meditation song. I'm thinking Irish Blessing, but it could be anything as long as it's pretty. The last song will be "You Raise Me Up" by Josh Groban. It will be sung by Josh Groban and Mariah Carey, since I think they have the two best voices for their genders in the world.
12:30PM-2:30PM: I'll have lunch with my friends. It will be at a Pho luncheon where we can order plates that a restaurant would normally serve. I'll probably go with some Com Tam dish. Lunch will probably be with my Dong Hanh friends and whoever else went to church like Pray4Fun, my Pacific friends, Boy Scout friends, Bellarmine friends, anyone. We'll pay for the priests. It'd be a lot of fun, like the DHDH meals we had or any meal with Sean, Eric and Michael, haha.
2:30PM-5PM: Hang out at a remote beach with all my friends. Just enjoy the sun and laugh and play. Build sand castles, play football, bury people, argue with Michael Lai, etc.
5PM-6PM: Play basketball. It doesn't matter with whom as long as the games are competitive and fun. I'd actually like to play at American Airlines Stadium where the Dallas Mavericks play cuz I think it's one of the nicest stadiums in the NBA. Actually, it'd be cool to play in front of a sell-out crowd. The game wouldn't be as polished as an NBA game, but if it's competitive then it'll be fun to play and watch too.
6PM-6:30PM: Shower.
6:30PM-8:30PM: Play mafia with anyone who wants to play. Attendance is only required for my brother, cuz he knows how to make it interesting. We'd play on the beach and watch the sun set. We'd play until we need to light torches to see the cards.
8:30PM-10:30PM: Fatty dinner with my family, including all the cousins and uncles and aunts on both sides of my family. Also, all my friends are invited. So really, it's a party with food. We'll be jolly and merry and enjoy ourselves, laughing and joking. The food will be anything anyone wants. I'll probably have a hella gourmet burger with hella gourmet fries or something, haha. We'll be loud and talk and yell and sing at this dinner. Good times will be had. People will leave the dinner saying, "Wow. Andrew knows how to have a good dinner."
10:30PM-11PM: I'll play Super Smash Brothers Melee with Tri Nguyen. I know it'd yield something exciting, haha.
11PM-11:30PM: I'd say goodbye to everyone. Not the sad goodbye. The normal good bye. We shouldn't need to tell our friends and family how much we love them at the last moment. The whole day should be filled with words of appreciation. I wouldn't need to tell anyone that I'll miss them or that I love them. They should have already heard it from me.
11:30PM-11:59PM: I'd take all the pictures that were taken of my day and write a caption for them. There would probably be hundreds so I'll just probably caption the ones I like the best. I'd leave a picture book, showing everyone how I think life should be a relaxing and happy journey.
12AM: I'd change my Facebook status or something, haha. I'd like to die asleep with a smile on my face on my bed with my Appa stuffed animal.
If you really just read all of that, then you realize I didn't do anything lasting, except for making that photo album at the end.
A happy life isn't determined by important actions, but rather, is determined by actions done happily with important people.
"24 HOURS TO LIVE! (AKA 24 HOURS UNTIL YOU DIE)
Must Have...
- Minimum 8 Hours of Sleep
- Freedom to go anywhere (instant transporation)
- Can go with anyone you want, or alone, at any time
- At some point in the day, you must take two tests (15 minutes each)
- One of the tests must be a rigorous academic subject that you are good at
- The other test must be on an academic subject that you care about the most/are most interested in
- If you pass these two tests, you will be able to fix any significant social/political problem in the world. What would you fix?
- Where do you go, who is with you, and what do you do there?
12 AM -
1AM -
2AM -
3AM -
4AM -
5AM -
6AM -
7AM -
8AM -
9AM -
10AM -
11AM -
12PM -
1PM -
2PM -
3PM -
4PM -
5PM -
6PM -
7PM -
8PM -
9PM -
10PM -
11PM -
12AM -
What would you do?
Places to go?
Activities?
Abilities?
People?
Interests?
Concerns?
Talk to me about it after... If enough people fill it out, I'll type up mine! :D!"
12AM-5AM: I'll sleep and wake up just before the sunrise, so I can catch it one last time with the woman I love on a beach somewhere nowhere near civilization. I know, I know. Those of you who know me well are probably thinking, "No way Andrew can get up that early! Freakin' lazy-ass mother fu-" But this is a hypothetical so just let me have my fun, ok? =)
5AM-7AM: I'd eat breakfast with aforementioned woman while watching the sunrise. We'll talk and laugh and just be all smiles. Breakfast will include sausages and eggs and tater tots. Wait, wtf? That's what I eat at the dining hall...talk about pathetic aspirations. Anyways, the food itself hardly matters, as long as I get to eat something and enjoy my morning.
7AM-10AM: After I eat and watch the sunrise and change my Facebook status accordingly, I'd take a 3 hour nap. I freakin' woke up hella early!
"Andrew Nguyen just had an amazing morning with [insert name here], watching the sun rise on a deserted island and enjoying each other's company! About 2 minutes ago. - Comment"
10AM-11AM: I'd take my two tests. The first one would be an essay test. I'd probably take the essay portion of the SAT I again, since I did pretty well every time I took it. Then, after those first 15 minutes, I'd take a 30 minute break to cram for a Human Anatomy test, which is the required course I'm taking now for my degree, leading the way to a dental school acceptance hopefully. The world problem I'd fix would be world hunger. I think everyone should have a chance to be nourished. That way, they can be healthy to make good decisions. I just want everyone to be happy =)
11AM-12:30PM: I'll probably go to Church. I want it to be a Sunday celebration, with one of my friends presiding, and any other friends who happen to be priests also present behind the alter. Also behind the alter I'd like Cha Tri Dinh, simply because he really, really, really knows how to help out alter servers. Yes, I'm speaking as the voice of experience. Matt and I would have walked around aimlessly without him.
Also, I'd like the FLOCK Choir to sing for mass. The gathering song will be "Go to Distance" from Hercules. I want Tri Phan and Thuy Angela to sing the Responsorial Psalm and generally lead the vocals with the rest of FLOCK backing them up. Anh Hoan will conduct and My will be on piano when she's not singing. The music will be the Mass of Glory setting by Bob Hurd. I'd like to be the one to deliver the homily, giving insights about my life and my observations. I'd make it as funny as possible too so that Jesus himself will un-nail himself from the cross to slap his knee and clutch his ribs.
I hope water doesn't spill out, though.
Ok, ok, I'm going to hell, I know.
The Nicene Creed will be sung in Vietnamese as Kinh Tin Kính even though technically, it's missing some parts. Also, the peace-giving part will be long like it is at Youth Mass because everyone will give everyone a hug. The congregation will consist of all my friends, if they so choose to come. Normally, I hate it when that part lasts a long time, not because I don't like to extend peace, but because some people give peace while others stand around uncomfortably. If everyone was involved and it was long, I wouldn't mind. I just don't like leaving people out. That's why when I sang in FLOCK, I was the first one back to the choir section, ready to sing the Lamb of God. I don't like leaving members of the congregation out.
Anywho, after communion (which will feature "The Servant Song" as the song), FLOCK will regale us with a meditation song. I'm thinking Irish Blessing, but it could be anything as long as it's pretty. The last song will be "You Raise Me Up" by Josh Groban. It will be sung by Josh Groban and Mariah Carey, since I think they have the two best voices for their genders in the world.
12:30PM-2:30PM: I'll have lunch with my friends. It will be at a Pho luncheon where we can order plates that a restaurant would normally serve. I'll probably go with some Com Tam dish. Lunch will probably be with my Dong Hanh friends and whoever else went to church like Pray4Fun, my Pacific friends, Boy Scout friends, Bellarmine friends, anyone. We'll pay for the priests. It'd be a lot of fun, like the DHDH meals we had or any meal with Sean, Eric and Michael, haha.
2:30PM-5PM: Hang out at a remote beach with all my friends. Just enjoy the sun and laugh and play. Build sand castles, play football, bury people, argue with Michael Lai, etc.
5PM-6PM: Play basketball. It doesn't matter with whom as long as the games are competitive and fun. I'd actually like to play at American Airlines Stadium where the Dallas Mavericks play cuz I think it's one of the nicest stadiums in the NBA. Actually, it'd be cool to play in front of a sell-out crowd. The game wouldn't be as polished as an NBA game, but if it's competitive then it'll be fun to play and watch too.
6PM-6:30PM: Shower.
6:30PM-8:30PM: Play mafia with anyone who wants to play. Attendance is only required for my brother, cuz he knows how to make it interesting. We'd play on the beach and watch the sun set. We'd play until we need to light torches to see the cards.
8:30PM-10:30PM: Fatty dinner with my family, including all the cousins and uncles and aunts on both sides of my family. Also, all my friends are invited. So really, it's a party with food. We'll be jolly and merry and enjoy ourselves, laughing and joking. The food will be anything anyone wants. I'll probably have a hella gourmet burger with hella gourmet fries or something, haha. We'll be loud and talk and yell and sing at this dinner. Good times will be had. People will leave the dinner saying, "Wow. Andrew knows how to have a good dinner."
10:30PM-11PM: I'll play Super Smash Brothers Melee with Tri Nguyen. I know it'd yield something exciting, haha.
11PM-11:30PM: I'd say goodbye to everyone. Not the sad goodbye. The normal good bye. We shouldn't need to tell our friends and family how much we love them at the last moment. The whole day should be filled with words of appreciation. I wouldn't need to tell anyone that I'll miss them or that I love them. They should have already heard it from me.
11:30PM-11:59PM: I'd take all the pictures that were taken of my day and write a caption for them. There would probably be hundreds so I'll just probably caption the ones I like the best. I'd leave a picture book, showing everyone how I think life should be a relaxing and happy journey.
12AM: I'd change my Facebook status or something, haha. I'd like to die asleep with a smile on my face on my bed with my Appa stuffed animal.
If you really just read all of that, then you realize I didn't do anything lasting, except for making that photo album at the end.
A happy life isn't determined by important actions, but rather, is determined by actions done happily with important people.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Facebook Notes
I logged onto my Facebook the other day as I do every so often (hourly, really), and I was somewhat surprised to see that I had been tagged in a note. Now, I knew that I hadn't recently hacked onto Sean's account recently or anything, so I knew it wasn't some grotesque note about Sean's sexual tendencies (I do love those notes. You guys should check them out). Also, I knew it wasn't one of the Andrew-Writing-As-Sean notes because I had tried to write one a few weeks previously only to find that the moron had changed his password.
Jerk.
So it was to my somewhat pleasant surprise that Christian Deguzman tagged me in a random survey about random facts, entitled "16 Candles". Now, in the old days of MySpace notes and Xanga subscriptions, to which I'm sure many of you still follow, surveys were plentiful and manifold. They were generally pointless ramblings, asking about specific questions regarding the surveyed. And normally, other people were chosen to continue and spread the survey love. They consisted of lame questions on random things, about which I knew few people really cared. In short, I generally despised them, seeing them as a cheap, easy way to fill up space and time.
Regardless of my blatant disrespect, however, I filled a few out, contributing to the insignificant myriad of words to waste time. We all have done things about which we may not necessarily be too proud...especially in boredom.
Anyways, the purpose of this rant is not to condemn surveys, even though I must add that they are worthless and pointless. The point of this rant is to fill out another one. Mr. Deguzman was not the first to tag me in such a survey. Helen Nguyen and Tiffanie Lee have also graced me with mention. Thus, I am triply obligated to fill out this crap myself.
I particularly enjoy this one because while most surveys ask random things, this one simply asks to write anything. That freedom itself makes it appealing. That, and the fact that a 2 hour lecture at 8 in the morning cannot possibly sustain its excitement in the allotted time.
Oh, and my last note was a result of a tag from Francesca Lomotan. Thanks, Franny =)
"The brief: "Once you’ve been tagged, you have (can if you want) to write a note with 16 random things, shortcomings, facts, habits or goals about you. At the end choose 16 people to be tagged, listing their names and why you chose them. You have to tag the person who tagged you."" -Xtian
1. I'm a huge fan of Disney films, mostly musical films made after The Little Mermaid in 1988, which was technically the beginning of what is now known as the Disney Renaissance...
2. I once wrote a lengthy research paper on Disney and the Little Mermaid.
3. I've seen close to 800 films, and my favorite three are Beauty and the Beast, Pride and Prejudice and Lost in Translation.
4. I love my friends more than anything. I value interpersonal relationships above all else, and my religious views stem from this (See previous entries).
5. I usually don't do things in moderation. I'll eat a meal or two a day, but they'll be meals large enough for two healthy people. If I work out, I'll go as hard as my body can humanly handle (or if I cramp...), but I seldom work out. I either pull all-nighters or sleep in excess of 12 hours at a time. I am a child of extremes, but I'm trying to change it.
6. I was born in Worcester, Massachusetts and moved to the Bay at an early age. This justifies my being a fan of the Celtics, Patriots or Red Sox. I'm not a fan of any of the three, but I could justifiably be one! (PS Go Warriors and 49ers!)
7. Before my current permanent residence (what some call home), my immediate family had never lived at one address for longer than two years. My former addresses include 609 San Miguel Ave. Santa Clara, CA, 95050; 1454 Don Ave. Santa Clara, CA, 95050; 244 Smithwood St. Milpitas, CA, 95035; and my current address. I lived in two places prior to the San Miguel house, but I was too young to remember the addresses.
8. When I was young, living in a duplex before we moved into the San Miguel house, I was once woken up by the sound of a police interrogation in the middle of the night. For some reason, I was sleeping in the living room that night. As it turns out, the Mexican family to whom we let out the other side was in the middle of a feud. That night, the husband stabbed his wife and killed her outside our place. It was all over the news, and our house was on TV and everything. I wasn't scared because I knew it was over, and the guy was caught. They were survived by at least two daughters near my age, who were then raised by grandma. The mom was buried out front. Her name was Charlotte.
9. When my brother and I were younger we both had our own favorite bedsheets/blankets. His was Barney and mine was the original Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers. While Matt's Barney blanket was soft on one side, mine had the Power Rangers on it. A fair trade off in my opinion.
10. Though I'm an Eagle Scout now, my first Scouting experience was as a Cub Scout in Lien Doan Ra Khoi, or Troop 285, in San Jose. My first camping trip was horrible. I think I cried and missed my mom. I remember doing push-ups for doing something wrong. Looking back, it wasn't so bad, but I was new to it, and probably whiny to begin with. I was then a Boy Scout in Troop 74 until my parents moved us to Milpitas, where I joined 101 Lac Hong, which later split into 101 and 111, Lien Doan Hoa Lu. It was with 111 that I earned Eagle Scout. I know this doesn't make sense to lots of you, but I hope it was random enough.
11. I played the flute for a year in 4th or 5th grade. Manly, I know.
12. In second grade, I pretty much thought I was a badass, flipping off all my friends and whatnot. Then I transferred to St. Justin's in third grade. I suddenly became the only Vietnamese boy, and one of like 5 Asian kids. It was weird, and I was quiet and shy around these people until I left them in 8th grade. I mention this because I got in trouble my first few weeks for pretending to flip someone off. The jerk told on me. I learned.
13. If I ever come off as someone who is very aware of his grammar, I attribute all such awareness and grammatical knowledge to my middle school English teacher, Mrs. Wayne. She had us write often in our headings, "English is my favorite subject in the world!" and had us analyze and diagram sentences. *Shudder*
14. I secretly love and enjoy analyzing and diagramming sentences.
15. I used to play with Barbies with my cousin Phuong, Chị Bé, when I was much younger, but it wasn't like dress-up or hair-combing play normally found in young female circles. It was more like I-have-control-over-someone's-fate play where I enjoyed controlling or living vicariously through the dolls. In my defense, GI Joe dolls are played similarly, but yes, it's still feminine because they're Barbies. And lastly, for some reason I can't seem to understand,
16. I'm still single. I'm picky too, so that may have something to do with it. But I'm sure the Barbie thing doesn't help much.
Jerk.
So it was to my somewhat pleasant surprise that Christian Deguzman tagged me in a random survey about random facts, entitled "16 Candles". Now, in the old days of MySpace notes and Xanga subscriptions, to which I'm sure many of you still follow, surveys were plentiful and manifold. They were generally pointless ramblings, asking about specific questions regarding the surveyed. And normally, other people were chosen to continue and spread the survey love. They consisted of lame questions on random things, about which I knew few people really cared. In short, I generally despised them, seeing them as a cheap, easy way to fill up space and time.
Regardless of my blatant disrespect, however, I filled a few out, contributing to the insignificant myriad of words to waste time. We all have done things about which we may not necessarily be too proud...especially in boredom.
Anyways, the purpose of this rant is not to condemn surveys, even though I must add that they are worthless and pointless. The point of this rant is to fill out another one. Mr. Deguzman was not the first to tag me in such a survey. Helen Nguyen and Tiffanie Lee have also graced me with mention. Thus, I am triply obligated to fill out this crap myself.
I particularly enjoy this one because while most surveys ask random things, this one simply asks to write anything. That freedom itself makes it appealing. That, and the fact that a 2 hour lecture at 8 in the morning cannot possibly sustain its excitement in the allotted time.
Oh, and my last note was a result of a tag from Francesca Lomotan. Thanks, Franny =)
"The brief: "Once you’ve been tagged, you have (can if you want) to write a note with 16 random things, shortcomings, facts, habits or goals about you. At the end choose 16 people to be tagged, listing their names and why you chose them. You have to tag the person who tagged you."" -Xtian
1. I'm a huge fan of Disney films, mostly musical films made after The Little Mermaid in 1988, which was technically the beginning of what is now known as the Disney Renaissance...
2. I once wrote a lengthy research paper on Disney and the Little Mermaid.
3. I've seen close to 800 films, and my favorite three are Beauty and the Beast, Pride and Prejudice and Lost in Translation.
4. I love my friends more than anything. I value interpersonal relationships above all else, and my religious views stem from this (See previous entries).
5. I usually don't do things in moderation. I'll eat a meal or two a day, but they'll be meals large enough for two healthy people. If I work out, I'll go as hard as my body can humanly handle (or if I cramp...), but I seldom work out. I either pull all-nighters or sleep in excess of 12 hours at a time. I am a child of extremes, but I'm trying to change it.
6. I was born in Worcester, Massachusetts and moved to the Bay at an early age. This justifies my being a fan of the Celtics, Patriots or Red Sox. I'm not a fan of any of the three, but I could justifiably be one! (PS Go Warriors and 49ers!)
7. Before my current permanent residence (what some call home), my immediate family had never lived at one address for longer than two years. My former addresses include 609 San Miguel Ave. Santa Clara, CA, 95050; 1454 Don Ave. Santa Clara, CA, 95050; 244 Smithwood St. Milpitas, CA, 95035; and my current address. I lived in two places prior to the San Miguel house, but I was too young to remember the addresses.
8. When I was young, living in a duplex before we moved into the San Miguel house, I was once woken up by the sound of a police interrogation in the middle of the night. For some reason, I was sleeping in the living room that night. As it turns out, the Mexican family to whom we let out the other side was in the middle of a feud. That night, the husband stabbed his wife and killed her outside our place. It was all over the news, and our house was on TV and everything. I wasn't scared because I knew it was over, and the guy was caught. They were survived by at least two daughters near my age, who were then raised by grandma. The mom was buried out front. Her name was Charlotte.
9. When my brother and I were younger we both had our own favorite bedsheets/blankets. His was Barney and mine was the original Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers. While Matt's Barney blanket was soft on one side, mine had the Power Rangers on it. A fair trade off in my opinion.
10. Though I'm an Eagle Scout now, my first Scouting experience was as a Cub Scout in Lien Doan Ra Khoi, or Troop 285, in San Jose. My first camping trip was horrible. I think I cried and missed my mom. I remember doing push-ups for doing something wrong. Looking back, it wasn't so bad, but I was new to it, and probably whiny to begin with. I was then a Boy Scout in Troop 74 until my parents moved us to Milpitas, where I joined 101 Lac Hong, which later split into 101 and 111, Lien Doan Hoa Lu. It was with 111 that I earned Eagle Scout. I know this doesn't make sense to lots of you, but I hope it was random enough.
11. I played the flute for a year in 4th or 5th grade. Manly, I know.
12. In second grade, I pretty much thought I was a badass, flipping off all my friends and whatnot. Then I transferred to St. Justin's in third grade. I suddenly became the only Vietnamese boy, and one of like 5 Asian kids. It was weird, and I was quiet and shy around these people until I left them in 8th grade. I mention this because I got in trouble my first few weeks for pretending to flip someone off. The jerk told on me. I learned.
13. If I ever come off as someone who is very aware of his grammar, I attribute all such awareness and grammatical knowledge to my middle school English teacher, Mrs. Wayne. She had us write often in our headings, "English is my favorite subject in the world!" and had us analyze and diagram sentences. *Shudder*
14. I secretly love and enjoy analyzing and diagramming sentences.
15. I used to play with Barbies with my cousin Phuong, Chị Bé, when I was much younger, but it wasn't like dress-up or hair-combing play normally found in young female circles. It was more like I-have-control-over-someone's-fate play where I enjoyed controlling or living vicariously through the dolls. In my defense, GI Joe dolls are played similarly, but yes, it's still feminine because they're Barbies. And lastly, for some reason I can't seem to understand,
16. I'm still single. I'm picky too, so that may have something to do with it. But I'm sure the Barbie thing doesn't help much.
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