I Suck At Pinkberry

For a day in which neither Karen nor I had any set plans (which is a rarity in itself these days), today turned out to be quite fun. With the nice weather, we decided to do a few projects around the house that involved being outside.

Karen was going to rake some leaves while I was going to cut a few tree branches. Cutting branches may seem like an odd project. The electrical wires, however, that lead from the outside transformer into our house are near a tree. The branches of this tree are intertwined with these electrical wires. For the past winters, Karen and I have always worried that with the accumulation of snow during the winter the branches will break and take down the electrical wires with them.

Sure, it may be paranoia. But since it's better to be safe than sorry, I figured that now is as good a time as any to trim the branches before the winter season started this year. The only problem, of course, was getting the proper tool to cut the branches because I did not own one. For anyone curious, I needed a pole saw. Luckily for me, my favorite brother-in-law (PJ) had the tool.

Anyway, I was able to borrow the pole saw. As I was picking up the saw, my favorite sister-in-law's (Janine) BFF (Gretchen) asked if Karen wanted to go for a walk with her, my niece (Kaleigh) and my nephew (PJ). It being a beautiful day out, Karen opted to go for the walk instead.

So while Karen and our baby daughter (Briana) were out for their walk, I worked on removing the tree branches near our electrical wires. Sadly, my pruning skills may need a little work. When all was said and done, the tree looked a little oddly shaped with a bunch of missing branches.

As I was still feeling productive, I figured I would tackle another project while Karen and Briana were out. That project: going through more crap that my mother brought over. Recently, my mother has been cleaning her attic. As my brother and I had load of junk stored in her attic, my mother started delivering my crap every time she visited.

Today, I went through my fourth box. Contained within this box were more of my college notes. In particular, the box had notes and items leading to my final year of college. As usual, it was quite interesting traveling down memory lane. I almost forgot some of the things I did.

Among the things I forgot was the fact that I took an anthropology class about nutrition. Speaking of anthropology, there were notes from my favorite anthropology course: forensic osteology. Being able to piece together information about a person from their bones was cool. My friends (Marc and Kelley) at one time thought I should have worked in forensics.

Anyway, there were other random classes that brought back memories. There was a course on women in Greek literature, a group dynamics psychology course, a philosophy course about law. I thought the range of courses was definitely varied. And after looking at my graded assignments, to say that I threw off the class curve is an understatement.

But I think without a doubt, the most fun I ever had in a class was my screenwriting course. It was fun simply because it involved something I enjoy: writing. Truth be told, were it not for my enjoyment of writing, I probably would not have kept up with this blog. At one time, this blog served as an outlet while I dealt with the passing of my son (Braden). And now with time being so limited while raising Briana, I considered stopping my blog altogether. Yet for some reason, I still feel compelled to post this blog simply because I enjoy writing.

So you can only imagine how much enjoyment I get from writing screenplays which also involve my personal addiction: movies. Needless to say, it was great looking at the scripts I wrote for the class. Typical of what I write, I had based some assignments on friends. Had I time now, I would write a script involving my friends and zombies.

Regardless, I had a great time reviewing the scripts. I think what also made the screenwriting class so enjoyable was that the course was taught by local comedian, Steve Sweeney (of Back to School and There's Something About Mary fame).

Anyway, I had a lot of fun going through the box. There was also a picture taken at my commencement that featured Karen, my friends (Cass and Aimee) and I. All of us looked so young. Apparently, I even had a yearbook from my college. I totally forgot about that. And if anyone is curious, I did look to find my friend (Andrea) who apparently graduated the same year as I did, which was fact that I did not realize until many years later. For anyone curious, she graduated from the College of Management.

As I was recycling most, if not all, of the junk from the box, Karen contacted me about meeting them at Pinkberry at the Derby Shoppes. Now, I suck at Pinkberry. For anyone curious, Pinkberry is a frozen dessert restaurant. I have never actually been to Pinkberry... until today.

After today's visit, I would have to say that Pinkberry is very delicious. (Cue Rachael Ray's "Yum-O" sound.) I loved it. I ordered the fruit parfait. It was so good that I would eat another if I could.

Karen thought it was funny that my parfait had a plethora of fruit, while she was told that she could only have three types of fruit. With the server being Asian, I attributed to our genetic solidarity. After all, Pinkberry was started by two Korean Americans: Shelly Hwang and Young Lee. I actually did not know there was a three fruit limit. I simply inquired if I could have all of the fruits in the parfait and the server did her best to accommodate the request. Plus, I gave her a wink wink too. I'm just kidding.

Anyway, Pinkberry was very delicious. I enjoyed the dessert a lot. Following Pinkberry, Karen, Briana, and I headed over to our friends' (Cass and Ellen) place. The get together was actually quite spontaneous. With my friend (Kelley) flying off to San Diego for a conference, I inquired if my friend (Marc) wanted to do something. As he had no plans for the night, I thought it would be a good opportunity to go out. So, I contacted Cass and eventually all of us ended up over at his place.

And as usual, it was good to hang out with everyone. For dinner, we actually grabbed some fast food which was something Karen and I have not done in a long while because we don't generally eat fast food. We actually hit McDonald's and Wendy's because some where interested in the infamous McRib, while others were interested in Frosties. For anyone curious, Karen and I ordered from Wendy's. I must say, however, that the McDonald's location in Quincy has changed a lot since I was last there, which was definitely ages ago. The place actually looks great.

Needless to say, the night was very entertaining. We simply hung out and watched some of the Celtics game. Briana, of course, highlighted the night by pooping all over her clothes. It was fun.

I Still Suck At Going Through Crap

Three boxes down. I'm not sure how many more to go.

Recently, my mother has been cleaning out her attic. In the process, she has been unloading boxes of my personal belongings with each visit to my house. Normally, that's not a bad thing, but she does visit quite frequently. As a result, the designated dumping ground known as my garage has accumulated a lot of the boxes that were previously sitting in the attic of my parents' house. Apparently, my brother and I kept a lot of things in the attic.

I have managed to go through some of the crap. Unfortunately, I still suck at going through crap as evident by the number of boxes still sitting in my garage. But, I have managed to go through two boxes already. One box contained my class notes from high school. The other box contained my notes from college.

I still don't know what I was thinking by keeping all of these notes. Well, I do know what I was thinking. I was thinking that these notes would be beneficial later on in life when I had to look back to reference something. Oh how mistaken I was.

Anyway, the third box that I just went through also contained notes from college. The difference between this box and the previous college box is simply the college. The third box contained college notes from the first university I attended after high school: Northeastern University.

I subsequently transferred from that college and graduated elsewhere, but for a good portion of my life I did attend Northeastern. I was actually an electrical engineering major while at Northeastern. The coursework does appear quite the opposite of what I actually ended up graduating with: majors in Psychology and Sociology with minors in Philosophy and Anthropology.

As I was sorting through the papers within the box, I remembered my time at Northeastern. Truth be told, I never felt like I had belonged at Northeastern. Perhaps it was because it was a new start in life after high school. Things were obviously different. The school was large. The people were different. Faces were not familiar.

Nothing probably exemplified my feelings more than my Calculus class during the first semester of college. When I started Northeastern, I was already taking Calculus 3 which was a result of passing the advanced placement exam in high school. I was definitely the only freshman in the class which consisted of all upperclassmen. Subject-wise, I thought it was a great class, but socially it was less desirable.

Even the familiarity of occasionally commuting with my friend (Anna) did not change my feelings of not fitting in. For anyone curious, Anna ended up transferring elsewhere as well, although her reasons were due to the fact that she actually moved out of the state.

I don't know. Perhaps I gave up too quickly on Northeastern and didn't give the school a fair chance. Sure, I was there for over two years. Despite my efforts to get involved with the school, through intramural activities like flag football, things just never clicked. Of course, my girlfriend at the time whom I lovingly refer as the scourge of evil may also have played a role in my feelings toward the school as well. Who knows?

Regardless, it was interesting to see all of the items I had collected in this box. Contained within the box were things like printouts of computer source code that I had created when I was programming. Back then, the main programming language was Turbo Pascal. Programming languages have come a long way since then.

There were CAD designs and drawings I created in the box. There were physics papers. There were chemistry papers. There were Financial Aid papers. I got a kick out of the pamphlet saying how Northeastern was financially achievable. Obviously, the pamphlet wasn't geared toward poor families like mine. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure my parents would have worked themselves to death in order to pay for my college education if I had asked them. As typical Asian parents, my parents value education. I just never felt right in asking them for financial help, especially knowing our meager financial situation.

Regardless, there were also English and sociology papers in the box. One paper sounded so vaguely familiar that I couldn't even remember who I was with or where I was when I wrote the paper. The paper was about my evening with a Swedish person. Now as interesting as that sounds (because even I was envisioning a nice evening with a hot tall blond Swedish woman when I began reading the paper), the paper was about a dinner and interview with some guy. Apparently, one of my friends and I went to have dinner with this Swedish person who served us sil (also known more commonly as pickled herring) and Swedish pancakes.

The only reason why I say the paper was vaguely familiar was because lingonberry was mentioned. For anyone curious, lingonberry jam was used on the pancakes. I remember lingonberry tasting pretty good at the time. And since I don't normally consume lingonberry on a daily basis, I remembered having some while I was attending Northeastern for this interview. Hence, the vague memory.

Speaking of papers, I was surprised to see in the box the paper I wrote for my application to the college that I eventually transferred to and graduated from. That paper was about none other than Karen. I suppose it's poetic that I wrote my college entrance paper about my future wife. I guess the paper was decent because I got accepted.

The box definitely brought back memories. Looking through all the stuff, I realized that my days at Northeastern were probably numbered. As the semesters went on, I became unhappy with my classes. My grades definitely started to slide as I progressed through the box of papers. I think it was evident that I was not happy anymore.

In fact, I was so unhappy that I took the infamous Myers-Briggs Type Indicator report (which was also in the box) through the school's career center. The report indicated that I was INFP at the time. For anyone curious, that meant that I was more skewed toward the choices of Introversion, Intuition, Feeling and Perceiving.

And if you are really curious, being an actor as well as being a scientist are popular occupations for INFPs. If I had just stuck to the writing of my fifth grade autobiography, I would have been all set. Darn it!

In addition to my growing unhappiness, my finances were no longer enough to cover the cost of tuition anymore. As a result, I transferred to another university. Perhaps that is how I ended up majoring in Psychology and Sociology and minoring in Anthropology and Philosophy. The subjects were more in line with my INFP personality type. Perhaps that was the change I needed at the time.

Anyway, it definitely was interesting to sort through the box. Unfortunately, my shred pile has increased exponentially.

I Suck At Going Through Crap

Yesterday, Karen attended the annual American Dietitic Association conference. The conference this year happened to be held in Boston. For a dietitian like Karen, this conference is a big thing. Of course, this particular conference is even bigger for Karen because she was selected by her peers to present at the conference.

I don't think Karen, however, is happy about presenting. And truthfully, I probably would not be either because it seems like presenting at the ADA conference does not offer any perks. From what I have been told, presenters do not get any discounts for the conference or any other benefits. I find that a little bizarre. After all, as a dietitian, what would be the benefit of presenting at the conference? I know that if I were given a choice, I would prefer to simply attend the conference and not have to present anything, but that's just me.

Nevertheless, with Karen off to present at the ADA conference, I was given the chance to spend some quality father-daughter bonding time. So naturally, what do I do for quality father-daughter bonding time? I took our baby daughter (Briana) shopping.

I did not go out to many places while shopping. Shopping, however may have been a little too tiring for Briana because she fell asleep on the car ride home. So while she was asleep at home, I began to organize a few things and go through some crap. Now, I suck at going through crap.

Recently, my mother has been cleaning her attic. Unfortunately, my brother and I both have boxes and boxes of items still stored in her attic. Naturally, in her effort to clean and organize her attic, my mother has started to unload all of the crap onto me (which is rightfully so). She has been bringing boxes of my belongings every time she has visited.

To date, I have only gone through one of the boxes that my mother brought over. I think the count right now is that there are eight boxes to go through. I'm sure more are coming. The first box that I went through seemingly contained every single note I took in class while in high school. Most of the contents of that box have ended up in our recycle bin already.

The box I went through yesterday contained most of my notes from college. It's interesting looking back at those notes. Again, at the time I thought that keeping these notes would serve as a reference for me later in life. And again, I was quite mistaken. After all, most of my notes were in subjects like Anthropology, Philosophy, Psychology, and Sociology. (Yes, I majored and minored in as many useless subjects as I could, which is interesting considering how my current profession uses none of those subjects.)

It actually took a while to go through that one box of college stuff. After all, at the time my student identification was my social security number. And as much as I would have liked to have just chucked everything into the recycle bin, I couldn't because many of the pages contained my social security number. Damn you college! I'm sure a lot has changed since I've been in college because I can't imagine that they would still use your social security number as your student identification.

Speaking of how a lot has changed, it was interesting to see how I had some dot matrix printouts and whatnot in the box. The printouts were back when schools had a VAX (virtual address extension). Some of the items in the box could actually show the progression of computer technology as printouts improved throughout my college tenure. Thankfully, computers have gotten a lot better.

Anyway, I thought it was interesting to go through some of my college things. In the box were things like my varsity letter for baseball; papers that I wrote for sociology (like the one I titled "Me So Horny" after the 2Live Crew song, which was about gender relations); the history paper I wrote the day before its due date which received a pretty high grade. I think my friend (Kelley) who was taking the class with me was a little perturbed by that because my paper had a better grade than hers.

Other things that were interesting in the box were photocopied readings for classes. Like the big ripoff known as textbooks, most of my professors had students purchase these photocopied readings directly from them. The photocopies were then used as required readings. Big waste of money.

Speaking of big wastes, there was a paper that I wrote in the box that cracked me up. Group projects were always a big thing in college. Normally, I'm all for group projects as it theoretically divides the workload. There was this one sociology paper that brought back some memories. At the time, groups of two were randomly chosen. As it turned out, I ended up with the short end of the straw because my partner was... well... non-existent. I could probably excuse my partner, were the class an intro level course, but this was anything but an intro level course.

Needless to say, the project spanned a good chunk of time during the course. The professor would give us an assignment in regards to the main project, which was a research paper, and our group would have to work on it for that time period. Every time the assignment was given, I ended up working on the project by myself because my partner was either too busy, or she forgot, or she just simply never got around to it. When it came time to pass in the portion of the project that was assigned, my lovely partner would simply sign her name on the assignment that I prepared. It drove me nuts.

So naturally, when the final project was assigned (to actual write the research paper), I again did all the work. Knowing that my partner would simply sign her name on the paper again, I decided to type a disclaimer on the paper saying how my partner has done none of the work despite numerous attempts at trying to work with her.

Well, my partner took the paper and simply signed it. Apparently, she didn't even want to look through the paper. If she did, she would have seen the disclaimer I wrote. Regardless, I ended up getting a great grade on the paper. My professor even commented on how he enjoyed reading the disclaimer and how he would take that into consideration for my partner's grade. It cracked me up.

Anyway, I think the things that I enjoyed the most while looking through the box were my philosophy notes. I was actually inspired by one of my philosophy professors. Interestingly enough, that professor may be one of the reasons why I became an "instigator" of sorts. It was through one of his classes that I began to always question things; to ask things even when asking wasn't the most tactful of options like my man, Socrates. Although really, who am I kidding? I would probably instigate even if it were not for my studies in philosophy.

All in all, it was a nice trip down memory lane. And now, there is one less box of crap to go through that is sitting in my garage. I can't wait to see what is inside the other boxes.