I am an Asian-American college student majoring in Technical Communications at the University of Washington. My Spring Quarter 05 Schedule: posTComm, TC 403, TC 407, ARCH 251, ESS 495.
All I need to do is find a PAID summer internship and I'm set!
I will be in San Juan today! I still need to pack, but I finally got that English midterm done! After at least ten hours of slowly creating, moments of frustrating inclarity and three days, IT IS FINISHED.
Pictures from Steve's Birthday will be posted on Monday, after that O.Chem midterm.
Unknown @ 1:33:00 AM
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
--Dylan Thomas
I felt like today needs an angry, desperate, determined poem because that's what you need to kick some butt. So I'm going to go out there and kick some bio midterm butt.
[Step One: Resentment]
Hi, My name is Quentin.
I'm a write-a-holic.
I can't control it, can't curb
the urge to write.
I need help.
I want my life back.
[Step Two: Commitment]
I write poems on fast food napkins,
with toothpicks, using ketchup for ink.
I jot ideas for poems
on my arms and legs. When I run out of space,
I use my shoes.
I make motions
similar to Michael Jackson's moonwalk
when I need to erase.
I make up stories
while making love to my wife.
She left me. Who needs her?
She was suffocating my creativity.
I await submission replies
like an addict, hands trembling,
head shaking in disbelief.
Not another bout with rejection!
I'm manic depressive.
I'm happy to be here.
No I'm not.
I live for revision.
Instead of sex, I have poems.
I eat feedback.
[Step 3: Contentment]
As a recovering write-a-holic,
admitting my problem
has provided a much needed catharsis.
Joining this nurturing group has
(Excuse me,
but are you going to throw away that paper cup?
That's good paper!)
taught me to reconcile my past
and move forward.
c.QBH
--Quentin Huff
When I first read this poem, I immediately thought of "Fight Club" and how the guy goes to all of the support groups to feel more alive and sleep better.
I managed to get one of the two papers I have to write for my English midterm done yesterday. It took me at least four hours to write a one page paper. Hopefully that means it won't take 8 hours to write a two page paper. The interesting thing with papers that are that short, is that every word, every sentence is very very stragically placed and worded. There's no way you're going to be able to say or finish saying anything of value if you just ramble on. Every sentence is carefully nurtured and fitted into the jigsaw paper.
Unknown @ 11:23:00 AM
If you haven't yet, go read Diane's blog, it's quite funny. What'll make it even funnier, is where I caught that the bug that Diane is talking about, the one that was probably the size of a half-dollar coin.
Diane has a vent on the wall above her bed.
The bug was crawling along the wall, right underneath the vent and consequently, right above her bed. Gives me the shivers just to think about it. Good thing I saw it huh? Even better thing that I'm a brave roommate who was willing to get close to the monster to spare Diane a stroke.
Unknown @ 8:02:00 PM
If anyone has not tried Maui's Sweet Maui Onion Flavored potato chips, you definitely should. They come in a purple bag and can be purchased at any convienence store near you. I think I've downed nearly two bags in the past three days. They are seriously SO addictive, I think I'll have to make the Juice Run tonight just so I can grab another bag of the Maui goodness. *drools* ....Yeah, I'm sure my sodium intake has gone through the roof.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
--Robert Frost
Today's poem is a tribute to Mr. Deatherage (Old, Cranky Deatherage). Because I have my English midterm that's due this Monday, I need to invoke those skillz he taught me.
My mom and my dad are not what they seem.
Their dull appearance is part of their scheme.
I know of their plans. I know their techniques.
My parents are outer space alien freaks!
They landed on earth in spaceships humongous.
Posing as grownups, they now walk among us.
My parents deny this, but I know the truth.
They're here to enslave me and spoil my youth.
Early each morning, as the sun rises,
Mom and Dad put on their earthling disguises.
I knew right away their masks weren't legit.
Their faces are lined--they sag and don't fit.
The Earth's gravity makes them sluggish and slow.
They say not to run, wherever I go.
They live by the clock. They're slaves to routines.
They work the year 'round. They're almost machines.
They deny that TV and fried food have much worth.
They cannot be human. They're not of this earth.
I cannot escape their alien gaze,
And they're warping my mind with their alien ways.
For sinister plots, this on is a gem.
They're bringing me up to turn me into them!
--Calvin and Hobbes: It's a Magical World by Bill Watterson, pg 89
Unknown @ 9:43:00 AM
Why do I even bother owning 3 umbrellas? Because it doesn't seem like I use them WHEN I REALLY NEED THEM. As anyone who is in the Seattle Area today can tell, it's not a good weather day. If anyone remembers my post from the 15th, on Wednesday about me not having an umbrella and that it was pouring, just imagine that x2. And this time I didn't have a jacket on either. Hopefully I won't develop pneumonia from all this running around in the rain with jeans and a fuzzy sweater on.
Thus, there is NO WAY I am hiking all the way to the ARC building for a infinitely extremely useless and time killer of a biology lecture. The topic does happen to be sex however. But yes, I will still have to make that Students Producing Art and Music meeting. :'(
Rain
the chilling rain
is freezing cold
killing my brain
I’m feeling old
A quick plea to my faithful UW readers: Please please try to make it to the SPAM meeting tomorrow (monday). It is in the 2nd floor HUB lounge and will be at 3:30. The person who was expected to kind of 'lead' the meeting is stuck in BC due to the flooding and has basically asked me to lead. Frankly I have no ideas, am dead beat and have been badly out of touch with the art/music/writing scene. Yes, this is a cry of help. Come and bring energy.
Unknown @ 11:37:00 PM
Stay, o sweet, and do not rise ;
The light that shines comes from thine eyes ;
The day breaks not, it is my heart,
Because that you and I must part.
Stay, or else my joys will die,
And perish in their infancy.
--John Donne
A beautiful morning poem, I can just imagine the bittersweet joy that hits the moment you open your eyes and see that person that you love next to you, you're all warm and drowsy but you feel a tinge of regret because you know that they'll have to leave soon, to start their day, to go to work.
Unknown @ 11:44:00 AM
Good grief, I can see why Diane thinks I'm a masochist. Yesterday I went to sleep at 3:30 AM, woke up at 9:30 AM (6 hours) and walked like ten blocks to the U-District Saturday Market. Then last night I went to sleep around 1:30 AM then woke up at 7:15 AM (about 6 hours AGAIN) walked to Dempsey Stadium and then to the end of the E1 Parking lot which is practically back to Haggett and stood out in the wind for an hour. I was volunteering for the 18th Annual Dawg Dash and I have a long-sleeved T-shirt to prove it. I was stationed where the pink dot is, by the entrance and exit to the parking lot so I could direct any cars that came through.
I get less sleep on the weekends than I do on the weekdays, and that's crazy. Here's some pictures that I took while I was out there though. I was bored.
Fifi 
Saturday, October 25, 2003
