Legs, Not Fins

I don't know how to swim, I don't care to learn how to swim, and if you think I should do so otherwise please leave me your address so I can send a giant F to you. There is a reason why we were born with legs, not with fins attached to the sides and the end of our body. There is a reason why we have lungs, not gills. There is also a reason why we have the ability to consume marine creatures and thankfully, not the other way around.

Admitting this was hard, as a stranger, as a friend, or even as an anonymous blogger on the internet*. Other than my parents and now you, no one else know about my lack of interest in swimming. Living in a society where 11 out of 10 people know how to swim, admitting that you don't know how to do so is almost the same as admitting that you are somehow inferior to the others. Just watch a few of the recent Olympic games if you disagree. Why do people strive to achieve so much when in the end, it all means nothing. You might have made your mark in history, but give it a week, your existence will mean nothing for another four years and a crappy worthless medal is all that is left. Not to mention that out of a pool of able body only the lucky few will make it to the end and most will just suffer from the pain while gaining nothing. No pain no gain? So is much pain no gain.

Even though I don't know how to swim, at least I tried learning the how-tos. When I was little my dad quite often takes me to the pool, but I have never managed to stay afloat without the bubble. Back then I was rather underweight, but it appeared that I like to sink as if I were grotesquely overweight instead. I guess I was not biologically up for these kind of activities, but then again I was born with legs, not with fins attached to the sides and the end of my body. After a while my dad realized that I didn't appreciate swimming very much and stopped taking me to the pool.

Not long after, something happened. Probably could've taken my life if I didn't make a huge splash sound in the process. It was embarrassing to recall what had happened actually. I was out on a picnic trip with my family and some friends. We arrived at this one remote looking place with fruit trees all around. There were apples, oranges, pears, and other exotic fruits, all within arm's length. All of us were drawn towards this fruit forest, but my attention was soon captured by an out of place circle structure somewhat obscured by the trees.

The structure was about two meters tall and probably the same length in diameter. At first I thought it was a well but it was lacking a roof. A girl, who was maybe a year younger saw me and also came over to this well to investigate. Both of us climbed up to the top, and looked into it. The well was half filled with water with a large population of plankton, which gave the water a slime green color similar to the color of the tiles that lined the inside of this well. Of course for being such a observant fellow I was back then, I was arguing with the girl that the well was dry and that what she correctly thought was water was just green tiles.

She had none of it and claimed that there are even green snakes in the well.

"Are you stupid? The well is dry, if there are snakes down there we can probably see it! Fine I'll prove it to you that it's just tiles!"

I judged the height to be sure that I could climb back out and I jumped right in.

I was stunned instantly, physically as well as emotionally. I was almost completely submerged in the slime green water and I couldn't see a thing, it was thick with plankton. I was about to panic but one thought took hold of me. Something my mom once told me, "if you take a deep breath and hold it, you will float." For obvious reasons I didn't take the life saving(or ending) deep breath, but I didn't dare let my last breath to escape me either. I didn't struggle for air, like they do in the movies. Finally slowly and surely, I began to float toward the top and was able to see the sky, but I still couldn't breath. For what it seemed to be an eternity, I lay submerged in the water and thinking that I finally learnt how to swim(or at least how to float).

A few more eternities went by and my vision began to blur and darken, but help came at last. I heard a low murmuring voice and I did exactly it told me to do, to put out my hand.

"Huurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" I gasped for air.

***

For the rest of the day while the adults and other children were having fun grilling and eating the fruits they found, I was busy trying to pick out the dried plankton in my ears and nostrils.



*There is no such thing as anonymity on the internet.

When the Egg Sticks to the Nonstick Skillet

I held such high hopes when my mom announced their arrival in August of last year. I was thrilled, overjoyed, and out of my mind; or as my mom called it - behaviors only to be found in insane asylums. Whatever mom.

I didn't get this excited for no reason, she was a long lost friend. After I moved to Michigan, seven years have gone by without any communication. We went to the same school together and lived in a close proximity, I guess the latter was the reason why I visited her so often. Now that I look back at it, our parents were unreasonably close friends as opposed to "good morning, you" kind of relationships. Suppose they also had high hopes of us getting serious with each other. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there wasn't free access to pornography, or else we would've gotten serious. Too much for the liking of our parents though.

However about two years ago they've also emigrated and settled in Maine with her uncle. They weren't exactly having the best time of their life, she said they were conned into staying there with their uncle. Her dad left for home, her mom worked long hours in the restaurant, from day break util stars twinkle in the night sky. All the while she was struggling with school because of the language barrier and was forced to help in the restaurant with whatever spare time she has left. From what my mom told me, it didn't sound like they liked it very much over there.

"Why don't we invite them over for a visit ma?"

My mom agreed and so did my dad and we soon formulated a flawless plan to help them if they do decide to live here, the visit was just a way to show them how nice it was over here. We were too nice back then.

Undoubtedly expectations didn't translate well into reality. I was still excited when my mom and I picked them up at the airport. Her physical appearance didn't deviate too much from what I had imagined but she was a little shy. Okay I can understand that, tired, overwhelmed, shocked; I've thought of every imaginable possibilities to explain her lack of talkativeness to convince myself that she is still the person I knew.

As days gone by I've discovered that she was a lot less intelligent than what I thought she would be, a lot less. Total lack of common sense and not capable of carrying out intellectual discussions about anything useful. Out of all the other things she could've done, she does exactly the ones that fueled the anger inside me. She is either dumb, clueless, ignorant, or all of the above. But I managed to keep the fire contained, with a lot of effort of course. I couldn't wait for the last day to come.

It was such relief when it did came. When they disappeared into the crowd, my mom and I acted as if we had won the lottery. We were smiling and cracking jokes all the way from the airport to home. We couldn't help ourselves, we were too happy and so was my dad. He described it as having the giant cactus off his back.

Ever since that week, I forcibly cut off all kinds of communication with her established during the first few days of her visit. I blocked her account on my instant messenger, closed my email account and pretended to be busy when they called. And I didn't feel bad about doing any of it.

Just the other day, my mom told me that our family had dinner together few years ago when we went back for a visit. Funny how I had no memory of it. Suppose my subconsciousness knew all along how much I hated her.

Poll

You can also find this same poll under Random Poll page.

I always get readers after I made new posts, but strangely I just don't seem to get any reader interactions. So a poll was created to help me figure out why. Please be honest, selecting any of the answer will not hurt me in any way.

The Perfect Day

There is no way to beat a day like today. The fine balance between hot and cold, the yin and the yang, has been achieved after a torturous streak of 80 plus days.

You can probably tell that I don't like the heat that much, that's why my mom calls me crazy because she thinks that I hate summer. But I like summer, I love summer in fact. It's the only season where everything is alive. You have squirrels navigating the yard with tree nuts int their mouth, the occasional rabbits nibbling on my mom's vegetables, geese squawking across the sky. I sometimes like to chase the animals, just for the fun of it, but the lush grass fields makes it almost impossible to track them after just a few meters.

Summer is a lively season, a likable season, I have yet to find a person who will say that he or she absolutely hates it. But despite all the good summer brings, I despise it. I despise it because of the one thing it brings, heat.

I've never quite figured out the exact reason why I don't like the heat, perhaps it's because of bad childhood experiences with tropical heat. I use to live in a more tropical zone than I do now, and wasn't too far away from the coast. Back then when summer comes, there is no escaping the heat and the moisture. There were times when we had to close all the windows and doors to keep the moisture out because the wind decided to come blowing in from the south, carrying all the water form the ocean. Even then with our apartment almost sealed off from the outside world, water droplets still formed on the walls inside.

And then there are times when wind and clouds just become theoretical concepts, days can go by without any of those, all the while with temperature readings at 90 plus. Back then, when summer comes along, the only thing that was on people's mind are to wish for a hurricane to come, preferably for it to make landings on their heads. The climate made the place felt like as if it wasn't for humans.

When my family moved here to Michigan, which is located somewhat in a northern climate zone, I was thrilled. No more do I have to deal with the summer heat! But you see, I was wrong, like I'm with most things most of the time. Every summer, especially with the more recent ones, I experience more and more 90 plus days. Lucky for me today, after a disappointing night with none of the forecast storms, a cold front pushed through.

I woke up early this morning when the birds go off on their screeching competition that never failed to get my attention instead of a more desirable female bird's. I ventured out to the yard with a cup of hot tea in my hand. The air felt comfortable, without its usual heavy humid feel. The day is cool, with a constant breeze blowing in from the north. The gentle touch of the sweet smelling air gave me goosebumps and it reminded me of a picnic I had with my parents when I was little. The childish me, careless and still learning what made the world turn. I was reminded of the time when I was at the beach, my cousin had recently sent me a picture me standing in the sand with both my arms flailing around. I was obviously happy, and naked (yes my friend Richard was visible if you are curious). Oh how much I want to go back and savor those days where I wasn't required to worry about the world around me. I felt stupid when I remembered saying that being older is being better. What a fail.

***

This is what all summer days should be like.

Internship Log Day 1

[So I was told to write a journal for everyday of my internship experience and have it emailed to my counselor. The following is directly copied out of the email. Enjoy.]

Today was incredibly boring, but I suppose it's my fault for holding such high expectations for an orientation day. Tanner and I spent most of our time reading and watching demos about their NX CAM software. It was said that doing so would make our lives easier later on. Sure, why not.

From the outside, the office building look quiet impressive, far bigger than any other office buildings I've ever been in. However, later on, I found out that only the two upper floors of the building that had a big blue "Siemens" sign on the front was actually dedicated to Siemens, and the first was for who knows what corporation(s). The office looked modern, almost a 100% match to what you see on TVs but with a little more space. The cubicles given to Tanner and I were quite large, the most accurate approximation I can give is it is about the size of a king sized bed attached parallel to another king sized bed that is cut in half lengthwise. We have more than enough space to feel comfortable, though I don't mind a chair that leans back a bit more.

When we first arrived our mentor took us a grand tour around the office. We were given our own id cards to get into the offices and was told of what we'll be doing over the next few weeks. If I understood him correctly, I would find myself spending the most splendid time since the beginning of this year, because the project that will be assigned to us originated in a customer's complain. It was something of importance, something the corporation had planned on putting on their next release of NX CAM but was bumped back because of other more important issues, not just some project to keep us occupied. For the first time since the beginning of this year, I feel somewhat important.

Got to be honest here, I felt a little nervous on the drive to Siemens. I shouldn't have been though, not after all the times that I had translated for my mom at her orientations. However my mentor was so much less intimidating than all the other ones that I've encountered over the years, and I was very much at ease after the handshake. I'm not sure exactly why he was so much less intimidating, perhaps it is because his tone of voice. He didn't seem to possess that overly deep "do as I say or I'll kill you" type of voice commonly seen in people with power.

I love that place.

A Strange Saturday

I exhausted all types of rituals I have ever known to prevent something from happening, and it happened to be a Saturday on this rare occasion. I performed dances, made prayers and shouted verbal threats. In the end, nothing worked.

I was still reeling from the weeklong sleep drought when my radio alarm blasted at me with murderous pop songs at six thirty. Absurd lyrics and obnoxious beats of such noise soon gave me a pulsating migraine. I opened my eyes to find the off button, but was thwarted by a blurred vision. Only then, did I actually know what it meant to be bleary eyed.

I guess I can’t blame anyone for my sufferings. It was, after all, my choice to violate the sacred pact of mankind to not wake early on weekends (does this makes me less human?). Nevertheless I have done so with the purpose of acquiring the key to unlock my dream. I just need to perform well on the two tests, easy enough. But the two tests just don’t seem to be willing to cooperate, they are more eager to end dreams than they are helping you to achieve it. To prepare for the onslaught, studying was given first priority, or so I thought.

Lacking self discipline and without a tradition of studying, it was downright impossible to get myself to set aside sometime to at least smell the study guide. I’ve had it for a month, but I’ve only put in about ten hours of studying time. About more than half of the time was accumulated the night before the test. As far as I was concerned, one can never properly prepare for a standardize test. You either know that stuff, or you don’t.

The late night studying didn’t help with my deprivation of sleep. Coupled with insomnia, I have only had about five hours of sleep before the examination. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing recommended by the testing agency. I woke up bleary eyed, got dressed and wobbled downstairs. With the TV buzzing in the background and coffee at arm’s length, I busied myself with iPad apps until it was time for me to leave for the test center.

The morning was bright enough to not have the headlight turned on. The Sun was up, though it was struggling to force through the clouds. It was a lost battle, however. The clouds were staged in a staggering formation and have more than adequate to cover the entire morning sky.

In all honesty I was a bit nervous, but as soon as I walked out the door, I felt alright.  The morning chill was comforting. It even lured the butterfly in my stomach out to dance in this refreshing air. I drove with the window all the way down and let the cold wind blow against my face. It felt good, slightly hypnotizing. And not long after, I had completely forgotten the reason why I was out driving.

I arrived at the testing center at last. They asked for my ticket and a photo id and as told a room number to go to. I obeyed.

***

“I should’ve studied more.”

April Snow

April showers bring May flowers, but what about April snow?

I woke up this morning to an empty feeling. The house was quiet, cold, and the weekend sunlight that usually saturates my room wasn't there. The feeling made me shivered. I hurriedly put on my neon green jacket I got last year from a robotics team and stumbled out of my room and downstairs.

All the blinds in the house was shut and everything looked very still and peaceful. A strange feeling began to percolate within me, a feeling that hadn't bothered with me for a long time. Though the sudden emergence of a feeling so strange, yet so familiar had given me a mini heart attack. I gasped for air, but I welcomed it, for it had reminded me my first forbidden close encounter with a girl.

I sat down on a corner of the sofa, the same spot my mom noticed an imprint of my butt on, and savored the feeling. I sat there motionless with my eyes closed, and had let the feeling take me on a trip down my memory lane. All those careless, worry free and reckless days had all surfaced from deep underneath. Sometimes sad, sometimes happy and sometimes life changing. It all came back.

I felt relaxed, truly relaxed, like when I was sitting in that rusting chair in the back of the ferry. Not a muscles in my body twitched, not a nerve tensed, not a single thought troubled my mind. I wondered what had became of that chair, what had became of me. I opened my eyes and scanned the living room. The frog, the calender, the new speakers. And then I saw my guitar, covered by a layer of dust. I walked over and wiped the dust off with my sleeves and carried it back to where I was sitting.

A Fender Strat. It has a smooth blood red colored body with plain white tone knobs aligned in a diagonal fashion. Cheaply made, it was meant to be a starter guitar, but so badly made that the ends of the metal frets had once opened up a wound on my index finger. I strummed a few chords, not quite out of tune, but the feeling of metal strings cutting into my fingers had made me stop. I sighed, every time when I have the layer of callus on my fingers built up, I would lose it because Mr. School would come and devour all my free times.

I put my guitar down and prepared a hot cup of tea for myself. I opened up the blinds and noticed the strangest thing falling from the sky. Snow. Snow in April? The entire pass Winter was almost without snow, something we always have an abundant amount of when Winter comes around. But this year, no snow. No snow, no rain, the weather pattern was all but familiar (when I come to think of it now, maybe it's just a reflection on my life).

For a long while I just stood there, by the window, sipping my tea.