deyang's Xanga

A Prayer

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 13:01:02 GMT

Today is Easter Sunday. In their efforts to drag my lazy ass out of bed and into church, my mom and aunt had these to say (translated for your benefit):

MOM: That's why you get sick. You don't go to church, you don't pray.

Wrong. I got sick because of the weather and my body, which was weak due to stress and lack of sleep. A deity had nothing to do with it.

After I refused to get out of bed, they finally left for church. An hour later, they renewed their efforts at saving my immortal soul.

MOM: You don't go to church. How do you expect to get a boyfriend?
AUNT: You get a boyfriend by praying, by asking Him for a boyfriend.

That coming from my aunt who prays every night, goes to church every week, and is an old maid.

I howled with laughter at all the faulty logic. And I thought funny things stopped happening to me.

Sharing

Sun, 04 Feb 2007 18:50:58 GMT

I'm back in the world of blogs.

Twice.

Ugh. I have enough problems keeping up a personal blog, now my class requires me to keep up a professional blog. I have to maintain a blog showcasing the "me" as a writer and designer. If I ever come up with anything interesting for class, I'll tell you the link to that blog. But until then, I'll keep it among myself, 17 classmates, and 2 professors. Hmmm...for a more-or-less private person like me, that's a lot of sharing.

So sorry if this becomes a dump for all my complaints related to class.

I also found out that a 6-hour Saturday class could be shorter than I thought possible and longer than infinity.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Wed, 24 Jan 2007 20:49:10 GMT

You Are a Sarariiman!

Or "salaryman." Whatever. Treadmill off, treadmill on.

Most of the sleep you get is on Tokyo's extensive subway system, since you are putting in 14 hour days.

You're a workaholic who works hard for no overtime. And vacations? Forget about it.

You spend most of your trip hunting around for gifts to bring back all of your coworkers.

What's Your Japanese Subculture?

Your Hidden Talent

You have the natural talent of rocking the boat, thwarting the system.

And while this may not seem big, it can be.

It's people like you who serve as the catalysts to major cultural changes.

You're just a bit behind the scenes, so no one really notices.

What's Your Hidden Talent?

You Are The Hermit

You posses a great deal of wisdom and the ability to see people for who they are.

You are always looking ahead at the future, developing visions.

A loner, you tend to travel by yourself through life, seeking your own truth.

You don't crave material things or fancy titles. You have no baggage.

Your fortune:

It's possible that there is a unknown guiding figure in your life, ready to help you.

All you have to do is find this person and seek their advice.

It's also possible that you need to start seeking the meaning of your own life.

Either way, there's some deep thinking you need to undertake, and it needs to be done soon.

What Tarot Card Are You?

You Belong in San Diego

Laid back and friendly, you were meant to live most of your life on the beach.

You usually think everything is "all good"... except when the weather dips under 60F.

You stay classy - especially when you're in Tijuana!

Where Does Your Inner Californian Belong?

What Your Soul Really Looks Like

You are quite expressive and thoughtful. You see the world in a way that others are blind to.

You are a grounded person, but you also leave room for imagination and dreams. You feet may be on the ground, but you're head is in the clouds.

You believe that people see you as a bit small and insignificant. People pay more attention to you than you think.

Your near future is all about change, but in very small steps. The end of the journey looks far, but it's much closer than you realize.

For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust.

Inside the Room of Your Soul

Your Superhero Profile

Your Superhero Name is The Colossal Chimp

Your Superpower is Technology

Your Weakness is Water

Your Weapon is Your Poison Blade

Your Mode of Transportation is Cable

What's your Superhero Name?

Monday, December 19, 2005

Mon, 19 Dec 2005 20:50:51 GMT

ALAS, ALACK

...a hardback of Howl's Moving Castle is what I lack.

I collect my absolute favorite books in hardcover, so I thought I was getting the deal of a lifetime when I bought a hardback copy of HMC for less than $50 on half.com. But apparently not. What came in the mail is the same size (and paper type) as the paperback only with...hardback covers!

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Do you remember those copies of school reading books (thin paper pages with hardback covers) that the school lent us in middle school and maybe even in high school? Well, that's exactly what I ended up buying. Silly me, should have realized that if a good used copy of the first edition hardback (1986) is selling between $150 and almost $300 on bn.com, then I wouldn't get anything near that for a measly $20.

But I still want a hardcover copy of HMC!!! WAAAHHHHHH!

Damn. How can a children's book cost $300?!!!!

Does anyone out there love--as in really, really, REALLY LOVE--me? Enough to spend $150 on a used book?

Sigh. Didn't think so.

...On second thought, a hardback copy of HMC would make a really good anniversary present...now if only I could find a willing victim...er, boyfriend.

Then again, I did get a small bonus this year, but I was hoping to buy a loft bed frame from IKEA so I can finally arrange my room and have enough space for a real computer desk and possibly a drawing/artist desk to serve as study desk.

...choices, choices...

Friday, November 11, 2005

Fri, 11 Nov 2005 23:00:18 GMT

Note: I edited this to make it shorter. A full 2-page narrative was a little ridiculous. If you want to read the unabridged version, email me.

IMAGE

This week I found a fellow anime fan at work. Actually, he found me out. He saw my "Serial Experiments Lain" desktop wallpaper--this artsy, three-tone (white, black, and dark-greenish-brown) shot of Lain on a street, which was far away from the usual anime style.

Things started from there.

I brought my collection of Studio Ghibli films (along with volume 1 of Trigun and Full Metal Alchemist) to work so he could borrow it since he had mentioned that he especially liked Miyazaki, the famous director of Spirited Away, My Neighbor Totoro, Princess Mononoke, and Howl’s Moving Castle. I delivered the goods during our morning break when I thought the lab would be mostly empty. As if we were doing something illegal, the plastic bag full of anime goodies quickly exchanged hands. After all, we can’t have the whole company knowing that we like cartoons—just wouldn’t do anything for our professional image.

“I love Princess Mononoke,” he said as he peered through the barely-concealing plastic bag and saw the dvd. Then inspiration struck. “I know! I’ll buy you a movie! What do you want?”

Having said “no” to his previous offer of a free lunch, I found myself saying “yes” to a free movie…knowing that he’d keep going to ridiculous lengths just to repay my apparently overwhelming generosity. (Yesterday he asked when my birthday was.) I told him what I wanted, and we made a deal.

A few hours later I suddenly realized that a free movie for me would cost him between $25 and $30 as I stared at the 4^th dvd volume of Full Metal Alchemist in my hand. He bought it during his lunch break and handed it to me without the cellophane wrapping so I couldn’t see the price tag!

I hope I managed to say “thank you.” I always forget my manners when I’m stunned or flustered.

Considering all of this, the lesson of this day would be this: Hold out for the better deal.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Sat, 05 Nov 2005 00:36:21 GMT

MY LIFE IN HR (Episode 2)

This week we had three interviews: Mr. Outback Steakhouse on Tuesday, Mr. Overachiever on Thursday, and Ms. College Park on Friday.

I never met Mr. Steakhouse; I only saw him briefly as I passed by the lobby where he waited. He had dark hair and was tall and lean. That’s all I know.

On to Mr. Overachiever, the highlight of the lot.

At 3:30 pm on Thursday, November 3, 2005, Mr. O called Anna, my boss’s boss, to let her know that he was on his way for his 5 o’clock appointment. That was clue # 1. He showed up at approximately 4:20 pm and waited in the lobby until 5 pm when Anna finally invited him into her office. When they emerged fifteen minutes later, Anna handed him off to me, and I, of course, quickly ran to Pam’s office with him right behind my heels and foisted him off to my boss. I wasn’t planning on actually talking to the people we interview. I had no clue what to say or how to find out if they were capable of doing the job. I introduced myself and Pam almost at the same time, and there was a comic moment of confusion as Pam and I simultaneously held out our hands to shake his hand. He finally settled on taking mine first since I was nearer and flashed me a smile.

A fake smile. One that told me, “I’m trying to please—too hard.”

If he were a manga or anime character, his teeth would have been flashing and glinting like diamonds. Kinda like Coach Mitaka from Maison Ikkoku but add a pleasant background of rotting fish.

That was clue # 2.

Without any further conversation—just that smile—I crossed him off our list.

I also ran away. I let Pam talk to him and left to pick up my sister.

The next day Pam, who ended up talking to him for half an hour, gave me a look and shook her head when I asked how the interview went. She wished she could have taped the conversation.

At the beginning, it all sounded like he was perfect for the job. He was asking the right questions and presenting himself well, but as the conversation rolled on, she realized that if she listened past the words, something was off. From what she repeated of their conversation, he sounded like a breathing, talking, walking essay—

It was something like this:

“I feel that technical writing is the perfect avenue for…”

“After graduation, I plan to work for a year to give myself time to decide what to do next: medical school, law school, grad school, or…”

—he didn’t sound like a normal human being but something rehearsed. But the sad thing is that it wasn’t like he was acting. That was the way he was, and we would have killed him on his first day on the job.

He was just too much. Too much of a “bullshitter” (Anna’s description). Too much of a suck-up/faker (my impression). There was also “something creepy about him” (Pam’s words).

So sorry, Mr. O.

After Mr. Overachiever, all our hopes rested on candidate # 3, Ms. College Park. As Pam put it, we hadn’t even met her, and she was already looking good!

Although Ms. College Park arrived half-an-hour late for her 1 o’clock interview, Pam emerged from the interview with a fierce whisper of “I like her!”

Anna then talked to Ms. CP, and Ms. CP was quickly shuttled off to meet next with Anna’s boss and eventually with the head-man himself, the owner of the company. After the interview, a smiling Anna came into my office where Pam was telling me about Ms. CP.

They found my clone! That is, if I were tall, thin, and Korean.

Anna told me, “She reminds me a little of you.”

Translation: Ms. CP seemed sweet and a hard worker.

(Oh, the stuff Pam and Anna don’t know about me.)

I didn’t speak to the girl, but I trust Pam and Anna enough not to pick someone I’d like to kill. But then again, if Ms. CP turns out to be too perfect, I might end up killing her anyway.

(The insecure bitch that I am.)

But I’ll choose to look on the bright side. We finally have part-time help…if Ms. CP accepts the pitiful salary they’ll give her.

Incidentally, there's still no trace of Experimental Subject # 2. Maybe next week.

Friday, October 28, 2005

Fri, 28 Oct 2005 21:40:20 GMT

MY LIFE IN HR (Episode 1)

A few months ago, I finally got promoted from a “technical typist” to a full-fledged “technical writer.” But over the past two days, I’ve added another title to claim, that of a “pseudo human resource person.”

It all started out of desperation.

After a horrible month of our temporary administrative-assistant-turned-technical-writer in which electronic files of documents completely disappeared (aka deleted), documents were distributed incorrectly, data was misinterpreted, and general mayhem, we finally got rid of Experimental Subject #1. As some of you know, I was ready to kill ES #1 after her first week, but I persevered, giving her a chance…and eventually giving up. There are only so many times you can tell someone that you don’t open a pdf file through Microsoft Word. I eventually resigned myself to her presence and tried not to scream when she turned on talk radio from 9 am to 5 pm or when she asked a question. I quickly learned that you can’t change everyone or make them relearn their alphabet.

(ES #1 seemed to have a strong aversion to alphabetizing entries.)

People were just realizing that ES #1 was nowhere to be found when the really-high-ups started parading more temporary administrative-assistants-wanna-be-tech-writers in front of our eyes. (Actually, sometimes my boss never even saw, let alone interviewed, those people). I’m sure they were all nice people and competent, but Pam (my boss) and I were already burned. We didn’t want a repeat of ES #1. So we decided to take things into our own hands.

We dared…to advertise.

(It’s funny how the really-high-ups seem to have a strong aversion to advertising jobs.)

On Thursday morning, I walked into the office of my boss’s boss, Anna, and told her that with Pam’s consent, I sent emails to my chemistry and English professors begging—err, looking—for an entry-level tech writer among college students. Anna thought it was an excellent idea, and she went on to enumerate some of the factors we should look for in our future tech writer. And she even jokingly said, “Can we clone you?”

(Sigh. If only they’d match compliments with actual dollars.)

During our conversation, I was graciously appointed to “follow up” on the job candidates: get their credentials, call those people (my face blanched), and weed them out.

Please remember it’s ME we’re talking about here.

So I got out of the “calling those people” job. I got my boss to do that. My actual job is to respond to people’s emails and to send promising resumes/emails to Pam.

Since cloning me isn’t an option (maybe in ten years), we have to rely on the people who show enough interest in the job to respond. And in less than 48 hours since I sent the emails, we received almost close to ten inquiries about the job!

Pam and I were in hysterics all day. I think it was partly out of desperation and partly relief. Finally, here were people who knew how many nanograms were in a microgram and who were obviously proficient in using computers (being young). Unfortunately, we fell into the habit of nicknames…

Mr. Hunt Valley

The Doctor

Mr. Overachiever

…and last but certainly on top of the pile…

Mr. Outback Steakhouse.

I will now reveal the ultimate secret of human resources personnel.

Mr. Steakhouse is on top of the pile because he’s desperate for a real job and probably won’t mind making copies for us (and maybe even fetching us coffee). And he’s the only one so far who can commit to a full-time job. Just kidding about the coffee part.

We’re not picky. We only ask for three qualities: proficiency in using Word and Excel, attention to detail, and willingness to learn. Being able to write is secondary. Told ya we’re not picky. When I check my work email on Monday morning, I fully expect it to be full of hopeful college students begging for my job.

Of course, the really-high-ups are depositing ES #2 (a temp who used to work in a law firm) in our midst sometime next week. So we’ll see how it works out. But Pam and I still have Anna’s approval to keep looking. So we’ll keep looking.

The things I do for this company.

Of course, I do have a personal stake in all of this. I want to find a competent tech writer, so I can cut my hours to part-time when I start taking classes for my Master’s in Publications Design (yeah, go ahead, laugh; it’s okay). I haven’t even applied to the program, but I’m already thinking waaaaay ahead. The degree will become Path B towards becoming an editor for publishers of translated manga. Path A (the JET program) didn’t pan out and I might have to go all the way to Path Z, but at least I won’t be filled with regrets about not trying for my dream job. Of course, regret at not getting my dream job is a different story.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Mon, 17 Oct 2005 22:01:23 GMT

HAPPY ENDINGS: WHERE'S YOURS?

Sigh.

What do you do when the hobby you use as an escape from your reality doesn't even have happy endings anymore?

Damned Full Metal Alchemist, the anime. It pulled me in with the deep characters, philosophical questions, and the realism overtones and then slapped me in the face when I expected a happy ending but was given a mixed bag of mud instead.

Even though I'm dissatisfied with the mixed ending, I guess there was no other way to end it without losing that edge of realism and complexity that permeated throughout the rest of the storyline. And darn it. I still like the series despite the ending.

But still, I wanted a happy ending. If you can't get happy endings in cartoons, where the hell are you gonna get it?

Sigh. I need to get a life.

Or I need to get over this impulse to want manga/anime/books that are emotionally complex to glibly end with "and they all lived happily ever after."

Case in point, Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City. With a cast of various personalities in the San Francisco of the late 70s, Maupin's fiction is pretty much a trip into the surprisingly small world of the stoners, the smokers, the desperately lonely and sexually promiscuous, the gay, the bi, the adulterers, the dying, and the naive. It belongs to the same category as the anime Tokyo Godfathers and Full Metal Alchemist and the book Caramba. At times, it's funny, uplifting, poignant, and heartbreaking. Despite knowing that, I still expect a happy ending...yup, the most naive girl to ever step in San Francisco is typing this right now.

Sorry for the rant. Very strange mood tonight.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Sun, 10 Jul 2005 00:12:52 GMT

FROM CLARK KENT TO SUPERMAN

Just because a girl loses a few pounds, gets contacts, and develops some kind of normal fashion sense, guys suddenly notice she’s alive…notice enough for a stranger to ask for her name.

This doesn’t speak well of the male version of the human species. Where were they when the pounds, the thick glasses, and the ill-suited clothes were still there? And as if I did all that exercising to catch a guy’s attention. I simply got tired of seeing my pants’ size grow much faster than my salary, and I needed a break after sitting down in front of a computer for 8 hours a day. Never mind the fact that exercise is supposed to be good for you.

Between being stared at on a subway train, an older guy from work (who I don’t even consider a close acquaintance) asking me to lunch since he doesn’t want to go to a restaurant alone, and a guy who works at a guitar store unexpectedly asking for my name (after he looked up some info for me), I don’t think I like all this attention. The first incident, I guess, was kinda flattering…depends on whether he was a scary guy or a nice guy. The second incident just freaked me out. And by the third, I began to get serious doubts about the benefits of exercise.

But just in case anyone wants to know, a guitar store might be the place to get some male attention. Who knows? Maybe you could pick up a guitarist or two (or possibly a drummer) just by virtue of being a girl.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Wed, 20 Apr 2005 23:18:58 GMT

I hate good-byes.

With a firm handshake and an exchange of “it’s been nice/fun”-kind-of-thing, my co-worker walked out the door yesterday. The bastard. John’s far from a bastard, but saying he’s one is supposed to make me feel better.

Today I spent my first day alone in what used to be our office. It wasn’t so bad when I was kept too busy to think about the other empty desk space. Sometime in the afternoon, it finally struck me that from now on there won’t be a John to turn to for a little chat and a little break from the mind-numbing work of proofreading test methods, entering data, and typing reports. And it’s hitting me hard.

I am a loner by nature, but I enjoy talking to people I like. John and I weren’t officially friends, but we had conversations that I enjoyed. We talked about our alma mater, The Incredibles, art, music, The Fantastic Four, the terrible genius of Ed Wood, history, our mutual lack of knowledge in geography and mutual lack of courage to admit to our mothers that we’d rather be atheists, his fiancée, museums, Star Wars, his family, my family, colorful ex-employees, drinking, his trip to Rome, and the other things I’ve forgotten.

And besides, he was really nice and had a sense of humor. I told him once that I wanted to see the movie “Ed Wood” starring Johnny Depp, and the next day, he brought his DVD of the movie for me to borrow. He also let me borrow an art history textbook and Bob Dylan cds. I think his favorite Dylan song is the one I found absolutely hilarious, the one with the lyrics “everyone must get stoned.” (It was the Dylan song he played on his mini ipod most often.)

And what nice thing did I do in return? Ummm…lightened the work load? No, that’s not it. Ah hah! I told him chemical formulas or which names went with which formulas. Yeah, that’s it, and I wasn’t all that good at it. There was also the occasional offer of gum and candy.

At least I found out I’m still invited to his wedding in September. I wasn’t sure if I’d still be invited since I’ll no longer be a co-worker by that time.

I just have to get over being lonely. Starting tomorrow, the company will gain a more dedicated and diligent technical writer. Let’s hope we find another tech writer I can talk to soon; otherwise, dedication and hard work might kill me if loneliness doesn’t do the job.