Why you should stop pestering your boyfriend

Disclaimer: This post is written for you girls out there. This might work as well for you guys with your girlfriends, but please don't put words in my mouth.

First of all, I want to let you know that it took me quite some time to decide on what verb to use to complete the title "Why you should not ... your boyfriend".

At first I thought of using "why you should not constantly bug your boyfriend" but it seems a bit too ambiguous. Then I thought of using "why you should not constantly annoy your boyfriend", but it seems a bit too harsh. So I decided to use the word 'pester'. From the Google dictionary:

pester (pes-ter) [verb]: Trouble or annoy someone with frequent or persistent requests or interruptions: "she constantly pestered him with telephone calls."

There, even Google dictionary example told me that 'pester' is the perfect verb I was looking for. In this blog post, let's silently agree that 'pester' means that you keep on looking for him. A simple text message "hi what are you doing?" is not pestering. But send three text messages in a span of three hours and you stamp yourself as a pest.

With the very definition of 'pester' out of the way, here are a few reasons as to why you should not pester your boyfriend.

1. You like us from 0 to 100, but we like you from 100 to 0

I have no idea who first came up with this idea, but it's pretty much spot on. If you girls are reading this and think "but that's not fair!", please blame God for programming us this way.

"But, but then, how do I get him to keep on liking me?"

It's simple, really. Just be like yourself when you first met him. That is, play somewhat hard to get. When he texts you "Hey, what's up? :)", go finish the Gossip Girl episode you're watching before you reply. Don't do that everytime he texts though (if you do that everytime, he will think that he has less value than an episode of Gossip Girl), just a few times here and there would be good enough to keep him interested in you.

2. We like challenge

As much as boys hate play-hard-to-get girls, we hate oh-you're-so-easy to get girls as well. In fact, although some of us say we really hate those girls who play hard to get, we hate those girls who are too easy to get more. Really.

If you have recently been the one starting up the conversation with your boyfriend, avoid picking up your cellphone and calling him. Just put your cellphone somewhere out of reach so you can stop thinking about calling/texting him first.

When you start being so easy to get, we start taking you for granted as well. Wouldn't want that now, would you?

3. We need our personal spaces

Really. We all do. Some with sports, some with music, some with movies, and some with games. When we do something and we do not ask you to do it together with us, it's probably because we need our own personal spaces. So don't pester us with texts like "why you no invite me? you no like me anymore?", it's annoying.

Or in short, if you have stopped playing hard to get when you're in a relationship, go back to play a little bit harder to get so he doesn't take you for granted. Good luck and stop pestering your boyfriend!

Confession of a Gamer

J/k. Reality is for people who think having life is more productive than playing games.

Like Helen Keller is to handicaps, I am to games. You can't help but think of handicaps when you think of Helen Keller, can you? (Okay, that might sound a bit harsh to Helen, but that was the first thing that came to my mind)

I have been wondering as to whether I should post this since it would make me look like I have less life than I actually do. So yeah, if you are reading this, chances are either I already stop playing games. Or I just don't care about what you think of me. Probably the latter. Anyway.

Here is my confession.

I play games. I play games a lot. Be it MMO (Massively Multiplayer Online, where we gather and waste our lives altogether. Like World of Warcraft), FPS (First Person Shooter, where we all want to be soldiers, but no one wants to die in real life. Like Counter Strike), RTS (Real Time Strategy, where we decide who can multitask better. Like DotA), RPG (Role-playing Game, where we think fictional lives are better than our real lives. Like Final Fantasy).

To give you a rough idea about how much game I play a day, I once got a questionnaire asking the exact same question. “How many hours a day do you spend on gaming?” the choices were:

a) 0-1 hour,

b) 1-2 hours,

c) 2-4 hours,

d) 4-6 hours,

e) other____ [please specify]

I chose 'other'.

If you still have no idea about how much game I play a day, I once skipped an entire day's meal because I was playing DotA. Yeah, it's that chronic.

But hey, before you start pointing fingers at me, let me point out that I still get higher grades than most of my classmates. *cough cough* imbragging *cough cough*. Me playing games don't interfere with my education. Or at least that's what I like to believe.

Someone even once asked me, 'how does it feel to be a gamer?' It's simple, really. While you guys prefer to spend $10 on a drink while sitting on a dark noisy club room and having to shout to your friend who is just a foot away from you, I prefer sitting in front of my computer and playing games. That's how it feels to be a gamer.

First, let me get this out of the way. I think I speak for all the gamers in the world (okay maybe not. But you get my point) when I say I am jealous with other people who have social life. Don't get me wrong. I can socialize; and while my social skills are not the best, I'm pretty sure they are not the worst either. It's just that I find playing games is more fun than socializing with other people. I kid you not when I say I wish I could be more sociable*.

*just a random footnote, I also socialize with other people when I play games. It's not like I lock myself in my room and play games alone. I use Skype when I play dota with my friends, so to some extent, I still socialize. Although with the same group of friends over and over again.

Also, as much as I like games, I still want a girlfriend. One of my friends even told me that if a girl decides to like me, then she won't be worried about having to be jealous of other girls; she just has to be jealous of the games I play. When you text/bbm me and I don't reply quick enough, chances are either I don't like you very much or I'm currently playing games.

With that out of the way. I would like to share with you the benefits of playing games.

Thanks to video games (special mention to Final Fantasy), I speak English pretty well. Probably not as well as you Americans reading this. But close enough. I learned a lot of new words from games. Like maybe sheath, scabbard, ravage, concoction. And other random useless words that I will never ever use in real life.

Thanks to video games (special mention to DotA), I know how to react when other people flame me(for those of you who have no idea what flaming is, it basically is insulting someone electronically). How would you react when other people flame you in real life? I have like a million other comebacks that I can use if I get flamed, all of which I would probably never use since I would just slap the person anyway.

Thanks to video games (special mention also goes to DotA), I learned that you can be an utter asshole as long as you're good at something. This also applies in real life, apparently.

I know that I really should stop playing games (what with me being 20 years old), but it's hard for me. Games made me who I am today, and they make me who I will be tomorrow.

The Hunger Games

A lot of people have asked what it really is about, so here it is. A blog post about The Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games movie just came out. And if you can't decide whether you should spend $6 of your money watching it, I have the solution for you.

It all really comes down to whether you have read the novel or not.

If I had to pinpoint a book as to why I started writing, this would be it.

If you haven't read it, please watch the movie.

If you have read it, just watch the damn movie anyway. Yeah, it's that good.

First of all if you have read the novel -- heads up -- you'll be disappointed. Not as disappointed as when the first Harry Potter movie came out, but close. Anyway.

I'm here to talk about the movie, not the book. I just watched the movie yesterday, and a lot of people were confused about the story. And I had to admit, the movie -- of course -- wasn't as clear as the novel.

So if you have decided to watch the movie, here is a back story to keep in mind before you watch the movie, so you can actually understand what The Hunger Games is really about.

The story takes place in the future North America otherwise known as Panem. Panem is divided into two parts: the Capitol and the districts. Think of the Capitol as the 'rich' part of the4 country and the districts as the 'poor' part of it. The districts are divided furthermore into 12 districts. The 12 districts provide almost everything for the Capitol. For example, District 4 is fishing district (which supplies anything from fish to nets for the Capitol), District 12 is coal-mine district (which supplies coal mine for the capitol, duh).


It is 74 years after the days when the districts staged uprising against the Capitol, otherwise known as the dark days. The Capitol suppressed the uprising with great effort and lots of casualty. In order to prevent this kind of thing to happen ever again, the Capitol decided to hold The Hunger Games, an annual event where each district has to choose tributes -- 1 boy and 1 girl from age 12 to 18 -- to participate in. The tributes will then fight to the death in an arena provided by the Capitol, and only one survivor will crowned victor. The victor will then be redeemed free of The Hunger Games and will be rich.

Now that you know what The Hunger Games is about, go watch the movie. Trust me it's going to worth your time and money.

An open letter to my ex's boyfriend

Hello. Yes, this letter is addressed to you. First of all, I want to wish you a happy birthday. First of all, let me say that I don't like you. I don't hate you either. But if I only had the choice of either hating you or liking you, I would say I'm more toward hating you.

I hate you not because you're currently dating my ex. And the more I say 'nah, I don't have any more feeling for her', the more I lie to myself. Of course, I'm totally over her (trust me about this one) and I won't be begging for her to return; I won't be begging for 'her' and 'me' to form the word 'us'. No, I won't. It's just that feeling you have when you're done eating your sandwich and you have some leftover. You don't want to eat it, but you also don't want to throw it away. Yeah, that kind of feeling (God, I hope my ex is not reading this).

I hate you not because my belly has more fat than yours. And just for the record, I still think I'm better looking than you (although A LOT of people would beg to differ). But yeah, I don't hate you for the fact that you actually think going to gym is way more productive than sitting in front of a computer playing games.

I hate you not because you gave my ex a plushie on a Valentine's day when I and she were still together. (Psst.. I will leave the fact that you also gave her best friend a plastic rose on the very same day you gave my ex a plushie alone. You would hate it if other people think you're a player, wouldn't you?)

I hate you not because of your stupid accent when you talk. Okay, I lied. I kinda hate you because of it. Your accent sounds retardedly stupid.

I hate you not because you are just two years older than me physically yet you are like, five years older than me mentally. I play video games and wear Doraemon t-shirts while you play with stocks. This doesn't make me hate you; this makes me hate myself.

I don't find any logical reason to hate you (apart from your accent, but that's not really a reason to hate someone, is it?) but I still want to hate you. So I will just hate you because I hate you. I know that this sounds childish, but hey, who cares? I don't. My ex doesn't. And you shouldn't either.

Now that I already established the fact that I hate you, I wish you a happy birthday. I hope you choke on your birthday cake.

Sincerely,

Someone who hates you.

On seeing a crush. And what you should do.

Disclaimer: Before you start spouting off random stuff, please note that I'm NOT the most credible person you should listen to about crushes. I have only once been in a relationship (and even that took me like two years to get in to, and less than a year to get out of). So yeah. Please stop reading here. Or if you really have nothing better to do, read ahead at your own risk.

I personally believe that love at first sight ranks somewhere between magic and unicorn on the scale of existence. But I do believe in crushes. I believe in meeting a girl and wondering that maybe she is the one for me. That maybe she is the one that can make me give up playing games. That can make me think 'maybe sitting through the movie Twilight with her for two hours is actually okay'. That kind of girl. Yes, I do believe that kind of girl exists.

So, for the rest of this, let's silently agree that this kind of girl (or guy, if you're a girl) exists. Otherwise I wouldn't really have much to write about, would I?

1. Oh, my God. I just saw her; the peanut to my butter, the straw to my berry.

You just did? Awesome. Upon seeing this wonderfully-made-by-God creature, what are you supposed to do? First thing first, and this is the bread and butter to this post, do not -- I repeat -- do not act too interested in her (this applies if you're a girl as well. Do not act too interested in him). Unless, of course you're as awesome as Adam Levine (and if you are, why are you reading this? You should be able to get any girl you want nonetheless). Anyway. Spark a conversation as natural as you can think of. Act as if you have to talk to her, not because you want to. By acting not too interested in her, you:

1) double your chance to get her to talk to you; if you'd like, think of it as an ambush; if she wasn't expecting you to 'attack' her, she wouldn't have her 'defense' up. Gosh, I hope that makes sense to you as much as it does to me.

and 2) it's human nature to be attracted to someone that's not attracted to them. If you want to know why, just ask God when you go to pray before you go to sleep and hopefully when you wake up you get the answer (and if you do get the answer, please let me know).

Or in short, be interested enough to let her be interested in you, but not enough to let her think 'oh my God, this guy is so falling for me'. And 99% of girls will friendzone that kind of guy.

Did I make myself clear? Good? Good. Let's move on.

2. I'm ready to talk to her. How should I do it?

Quoting my own self from the first commandment, you need to act as if you have to talk to her, not because you want to*. If your crush is in the same class as you are, wait patiently (read: stalk) until you are "accidentally" alone with her, ask her about when the next homework is due (this might be somewhat cliche, but there is reason why it is cliche. Because it works most of the times).

If you run into your crush in a grocery store, get into the isle she is in and act (yeah it takes quite a good actor to get your crush to like you) confused about which of the two products you should buy and ask her. I can list like a million other examples, but I believe you already get my point.

Let's move on.

*this is just one way to start a conversation. If you think she is kinda the straight-forward type, just approach her casually and ask her her name. Going back to the first commandment, this method of approaching might get her to set up her 'defense' and thus making it harder for you to get her to respond other than with 'uh-huh' and 'nope'.

3. Okay, I started a conversation with her, and she is talking to me. What do I do?

You started a conversation? Congratulations, you just passed the hardest thing to do. Next thing you need to do is to keep her interested in you, which is equally hard if not harder (okay I lied about that was the hardest thing to do, this part is). One of the best ways to do it is by being funny (unless you're as awesome as Barney from How I Met Your Mother and you can do magic trick, then by all means do it). By being funny I didn't mean like cornily funny. I meant wittily funny.

But there is another way than being funny to keep her interested to you. You just need to show her that you're interested in the things she is interested in. In order to do this, you need to pray that God points out the similarities between you and her -- this is most probably the point that makes her consider you as a potential date -- Eye her from her eyes to her toes. Eye her belongings for any clues about her interest. Maybe she likes reading, or maybe she likes cats, or maybe she has iPad. Anything at all. If she happens to like the same thing that you do, it's all rainbow and fluff from there on. If she doesn't, lie. If you don't like reading like she does, lie that you have just recently taken up reading. If you hate cats and want to gut them inside out (please don't), lie and say that you have a particular friend that is crazy about cat. Basically, just say (or make up) something that she finds interesting so she's interested to you. Mind you, it's not really lying since chances are you have a friend who has an abnormal love for cats. And even if you lie, nobody has to know if you do. We can keep this between us. Capiche?

4. Okay, everything is going great. We are having a great time. What to do next?

Great, now you finally are done with the hardest part. After talking for quite some time, ask for her name casually. Don't just drop whatever you are talking about and ask suddenly 'what's your name?', it's gonna be somewhat awkward. Be creative in asking her name.

Note that it is advised that you talk to her for quite some time before you ask her name. Otherwise it would just look like you're desperate to get her name and that goes against the first commandment.

After you get her name, continue chatting casually and cross your fingers that she will give you her phone number. If she doesn't, play it cool. It doesn't necessarily mean that she doesn't like you. Just wait until it's nearing the end of your first meeting to ask for her phone number.

5. Okay. Got her name. Got her phone number. And we're done talking. Next?

Do not -- and I can't stress this enough -- do not call her immediately. Wait at least 48 hours (or 72 hours, according to Barney) before you even start thinking of calling her. Do not add her Facebook account immediately either. Wait for a week or so before you add her Facebook account. If you call her or add her Facebook immediately, you will appear to be somewhat impatient and desperate for attention, which goes against the very first commandment.

Those are the five commandments on seeing a crush. Now you know what to do when you meet your crush! If this doesn't work, there is a chance that the girl you're trying to hit on is not looking for a relationship (or a greater chance that I'm a lying bastard who is trying to rip you of any chance of you getting a girlfriend).

My spring break in less than 100 words.

Now that I'm finally back to Purdue (boo-hoo), I can wrap up what happened during my spring break in less than 100 words (hopefully my math won't fail me).

On the first day, we missed our flight from Indianapolis to Florida we had to spend our night at Indianapolis airport (more about this here).

When we finally get to Florida, everything else went pretty smoothly. Except the fact that I had to sleep right in front of a freaking air conditioner. And it was super cold.

Second to last day, I found out that I lost my phone. A part of me was happy since it meant a new cellphone, and part of me was sad since it meant more money to spend (as to which part was more dominant, I'll just leave it to your imagination).

On the last day, we missed our flight from Florida to Indianapolis by literally three minutes. Missing a flight is one thing, missing two flights in a row is another thing. It brings a whole new meaning to "stupid". Ugh. Anyway. Since it was afternoon, they had a few more flights right after the one we missed, we 'only' had to wait for three hours.

A few card games and a third of the novel I was reading, we finally were ready to fly back home. Oh wait. The flight only had six empty spots (and there were seven of us altogether). Right at this point, I was just thinking that God was just screwing with me. So in the end, only five of us boarded the plane.

Two long hours of flight, half an hour of sleep, and countless number of drooling later, we finally got to Indianapolis. We boarded the shuttle back to Purdue, which is like an hour drive (yeah my city is that far away. Calling Purdue a city is really an overstatement. It's really more like a village than a city).

And God wasn't done screwing with me, so He thought that it would be quite funny if the engine would break down. And it did. The shuttle's engine that I was on broke down. The trip from Florida to Purdue which was supposed to take like four hours max turned out to take 12 hours. Hooray.

Anyway, I'm finally back to Purdue again, so I'll be blogging way more often than I did last week (which was practically never). Oh, and I'm also aware that this is WAY more than 100 words, but whatever.

Spring break: part 1

Dear you,

(It's gonna be a not-so-interesting rant. So just read this post if you have absolutely nothing to do. Like if you're maybe in class. You have been warned.)

If you read my previous blog post about spring break, you would know that I was planning to go to Florida with some friends. We finished all our classes on Friday by 5 PM and we reached the airport at 6:30 PM. We spent most of our time talking and before we knew it, it was 7 PM (the flight took off at 7.30 PM). I had no idea who started saying that we should eat, but we did anyway. I was not really hungry so I went to Starbucks and got myself a venti sweet iced coffee (with a lot of extra sugar!). The rest of my friends were eating broken yolk sandwich or something like that.

By the time someone (I hate to say this, but out of all people it was Irvandy) was actually 'sober' enough to check the time, it was 7:15 PM (or 7:20, I'm getting old, can't remember stuff). And Marilyn wasn't even done with her sandwich. So we kinda roused her up and went to the boarding gate. After what seemed like an eternity of security checking and baggage screening, it was 7:29 (phew!) when we reached the boarding gate.

Orvin was the first person to reach the surprisingly empty (!) gate and talked to the boarding pass lady (you know, the person who you show your boarding pass to and hope that she will let you go inside the plane), and the rest of us were still like a good 30 meter behind (~100 feet, if you are an American who thinks meter is a pokemon). One look at the boarding pass lady and I could hear Jesse's voice from Team Rocket's theme song.

Prepare for trouble!

Uh-oh.

That's it. I officially missed 2 flights in four months. Actually, missing a flight helps fight your high self-esteem. So when you're having that day when you just feel like you're smarter than everyone else around you, book a flight and miss it.

I looked at my watch. 1935. DAMN YOU AIRTRAN, Y U NO WAIT?

Tiffani was the one talking to the boarding pass lady to make an arrangement. I was huffing and panting after all that running to the gate (the distance wasn't really THAT far; but if you know me, you should know that I have the stamina of a giraffe). After a large amount of huffing and panting, Tiffani finally came back and said that the flight wouldn't be up until 08:00 AM. Which was, um, 12 hours away from now.

James' voice kinda barged in.

And make it double!

Now that the reality that we had to wait for 12 hours finally sank in, I looked around and saw that there was another group being left. A family. A family of four; a dad, a mom, and 2 daughters. With both the daughters crying. It was actually quite contrast to our group where we were like blaming each other and laughing (for the record, I blamed Marilyn since she was eating like a slowpoke. And deep down inside, I also blamed Irvandy for not checking the time earlier). But yeah, we were laughing, they were crying. So we kinda felt bad for laughing and stopped. We just sat down and chatted. Marilyn took the broken yolk sandwich she was eating before and started eating again. I swore I could play a game of dota and be done before she finished her sandwich. What a slowpoke (oh God, I hope she doesn't read this blog. Marilyn, if you're reading this blog, I'm just kidding! You know I love you :D).

12 hours. Wow. 720 minutes. Or 45200 seconds. We sure had a lot of time to kill. So we decided to play card games. A deck of lame cards cost $5 at the airport (what a ripoff!), but it's not like we have any choice, so we bought it anyway. We played Mafia, we played pigs, and we played old maid. By the time we were done with cards, it was 10:00 PM. Oh, my God. Still 10 hours to kill.

It was then when we realized that we had the place to ourselves. An airport to ourselves. The shops were closed and the lobby empty. The only breathing people were either us or the occasional janitor mopping the floor. So we decided to play hide and seek (I know it sounds kinda lame, but how many of you have ever played hide and seek in a fucking airport?). Before we knew it, we were already dead tired (well, mostly I was getting dead tired, but for the sake of my pride, I would say that we were tired). 

I wrote this post when I was waiting for the flight. Sigh. I would post this post as soon as I get internet connection. 

On smoking, and why I would never do it

I've just finished reading a novel. It's called 'The Fault in Our Stars' by John Green (and please don't look at me that way for reading a romance novel) and to my surprise, it's actually quite good! The main characters are a girl and a boy who are terminally ill with cancer, Hazel with her lung cancer and Augustus with his leg cancer, respectively. They just met each other and like all other romance novels cliche, they kinda fell for each other straight away. 

Then Augustus Waters reached into a pocket and pulled out, of all things, a pack of cigarettes. He flipped it open and put a cigarette between his lips. 

"Are you serious?" I asked (of course, the 'I' here refers to Hazel). "You think that's cool? Oh, my God, you just ruined the whole thing." 

"Which whole thing?" he asked, turning to me. The cigarette dangled unlit from the unsmiling corner of his mouth.  

"The whole thing where a boy who is not unattractive or unintelligent or seemingly in any way unacceptable stares at me and points out incorrect use of literality and compares me to actresses and asks me to watch a movie at his house. But of course there is always a hamartia and yours is that oh, my God, even though you HAD FREAKING CANCER You give money to a company in exchange for the chance to acquire YET MORE CANCER. Oh, my God. Let me just assure that not being able to breathe? SUCKS. Totally disappointing. Totally."

 "A hamartia?" he asked, the cigarette still in his mouth. It tightened his jaw. He had a hell of a jawline, unfortunately.

"A fatal flaw," I explained, turning away from him.

I finished reading the novel in like three days. It's really a deep novel. Amazon even gave it like 4.9/5. Yeah, it's that good. If you're looking for something to read but can't find any, I'd definitely recommend you it. But I'm not writing to talk about the book -- although I would love to do so --, I'm writing to talk about smoking. John Green exactly wrote what I have been thinking ever since I was 10 years old.

As you might have or might not have noticed, I am not a God (duh). And I couldn't care less what He -- with a capital 'H' -- thinks about smoking. I don't care whether He thinks that smoking is more sinful than eating a full meal in McDonalds (which will give you a heart attack in a week instead of a lung cancer in 20 years). I don't care if the girls think smoking is way cooler than playing DotA. Meh.

All I know is that I have never been pain-tolerant. My wisdom tooth is growing in, and it hurts. It hurts when I eat. And if a growing wisdom tooth can hurt me this much, I couldn't imagine how much pain cancer would do to me. So why are these smokers paying a company in exchange to get a cancer? I wouldn't even think about getting a cancer even if I get paid. So why would they? They are not even getting paid, they are the ones paying. Why would they even pay to get a cancer? It doesn't make any sense to me.

I have a few friends who like to smoke. When we hang out together and they go outside to smoke, I would be the odd one out waiting inside for them to finish smoking. It sucks, and I once even thought that I should start smoking in order to be like them. To be accepted by them. But no. It doesn't work that way. If they don't like you, no matter how much smoking you do, they won't like you. And if they do like you, no matter how many cigarettes you decline, they will still like you.

Spring break: Florida baby!

Hurr durr!

It's March 9th here in USA. And that means I have been spending my time studying (and playing games) for half of the semester already! And I'm graduating in around two months. I should really be looking for jobs rather than going off playing to Florida, but whatever.

Tomorrow is the start of my spring break (well, not officially, I still have class tomorrow). I might be able to keep on blogging if there is internet connection there (which I highly doubt) and if I'm not tired from playing in Disney World. And Universal Studios. But yeah, it's getting quite late here. I just finished packing, and I'm worried I won't be able to wake up tomorrow morning for class. (Scumbag teachers won't cancel the class no matter what)

With that being said, have a nice spring break people! Expect to see a lot of posts when I'm back from Florida :D

A stranded Asian living in US. (Part 1?)

I had my $10 Skullcandy earphone in my ears. I had a pair of cheap shoes on my feet. I had a gray-ish white hoodie on. And I was holding a $90 old Kindle (which is way better than iPad in terms of reading books, since it's the only thing the old Kindle can do.)

Here is a picture of an old Kindle if you never saw one.

I was still reading my Kindle next to a bus stop, waiting for the bus to come when I realized a black guy was right behind me. He was wearing a suit, and I thought he was saying something, but my iPod was on 80% volume, I couldn't really hear what he said. So I pulled my earphones out.

"Good day. How are you doing today?" he said as he put his right hand forward.

Oh God. Not this again. I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm doing well. And I have heard of Jesus. Thank you very much." I said as I shook his hand.

"Oh no no. I'm not here to talk about God." he smiled, his teeth were disturbingly white. "I'm here to represent the children in Haiti."

More eyes-rolling.

"Would you like to donate maybe $10 to them?" he didn't even wait for my response.

I squinted because the sun behind him was so blinding. "Uh no. Sorry."

"Oh come on... Just $10!" His tone was like a child asking his mom if he could stay up late. It was all I could do not to slap him.

"Sorry." I shook my head, my eyes still squinting.

Well, if the story was to end here, the moral of the story would be that I was a jerk. A heartless jerk who didn't care about the children in Haiti. But the story didn't end here.

The black guy then left me without saying anything and walked towards two Asian girls standing a few feet away from me. And I assure you, the ratio of Americans to Asians in that bus stop was like 20,000 : 4 (Okay, that's an exaggeration, but you get the point).

I didn't listen to their conversation. Either because my mom always told me that eavesdropping was not good, or because I wanted to go back to reading my book. I guessed it was the latter.

Anyway, the black guy spent like 3 minutes talking to the Asian girls, until he finally shook their hands and then walked away... towards another Asian guy sitting on a bench. He shook his hand and at that point, my bus came and I cared more about getting into the bus (and reading my book) than trying to see if the Haiti children got an additional $10 or not.

My question remains: why? Why did the black guy only ask Asians for donation? There were a lot more Americans than Asians on that bus stop. Why did he pick only Asians?

I told this story to some of my friends and here are some of their maybe:

1. Most Asians don't speak English very well. It's easier to get a person to do something if that person has no idea how to decline. (Although it's just as simple as saying "no")
2. They think Asians in US are rich. Like, filthy rich. Since the tuition for international students are like double or triple the tuition for US citizens.

Or in a simpler term, Asians are easier to con. I didn't know which part of my clothes (my $20 hoodie or $15 shoes) screamed "Con me, I'm filthy rich!", but I'd rather spend my $10 on 5 filet-o-fish than give it to an Asian-stereotyping person.

Moral of the story: it's hard being an Asian in US.

I'm doing fine! (and like, a million other white lies we make up daily)

I'm doing fine!

Truth is I'm doing horrible. I have home works due tomorrow, I have to get home and start cooking for dinner. It's just that I don't think you're close enough to me that I can talk to you comfortably about these things. So I lied and said I'm doing just fine, so we don't have to continue doing this awkward conversation anymore.

Oh my God, definitely no. You look absolutely stunning in that dress.
No. the dress doesn't make you look fat. You make the dress look fat. Seriously, it's 2012 already. Who asks that kind of question anymore?

I didn't get your text. Probably network error or something else.
I got your text. I just don't think you're worth my text messaging quota. Plus, I don't think you're smart enough to realize I'm lying to you about not getting your text.

Oh my God. This is perfect! I love it so so so much!
I hate your gift. But if I say it out loud, it will make me look like an insensitive prick.

I will start working on it as soon as I'm free.
Actually, I will spend my afternoon watching How I Met Your Mother and taking my pet turtle for a marathon around the town before I start working on it.

*in a friend's house* No thanks. I'm not hungry.
Oh God. I'm as hungry as a starving veggie in a McDonalds. But if I say I am, you would offer me your food and I would have to eat it and that makes me feel kinda bad. I'm hungry.

*on the phone* I'm on my way. Will be there in 5 minutes.
I'm actually still in my home. I just don't want to sit through this phone call listening to you making me feel bad. Crap. Where did I put my wallet?

*while on 9gag* Just 5 more minutes, and that's it.
Meh. I don't really have to explain this one, do I?

Justin Bieber, and how I really feel about him.

This is probably my one and only post about him that I'll ever post. So, let me get this straight first. I don't hate him. I actually find his (or her, whatever you think) voice to be somewhat okay-ish (his definitely WAY better than mine) and his songs catchy to some extent (I even found myself singing to "Mistletoe" once). He actually does charity and whatnot, which makes him somewhat nice personality-wise compared to other artists. But it's not like I like him either. It's kinda a complicated feeling. One thing that I "don't really like" from him is his lyrics.

Well, the lyrics are not as bad as Nicki Minaj's Stupid Hoe (you a stupid hoe, you a, you a stupid hoe), but pretty close. It's like a grade schooler writing a love letter for his classmate. That's how stupid it sounds to me.

As much as I hate his lyrics, what I really hate are his 12-year old fan girls. "oMgG bieBeR is LyK mY lyFe! tHe oNlyY thIng I neEd iS hIm <3 xoxo"(Bitch, the only thing you need is a spelling lesson). Ugh.

So why do A LOT of people actually hate Bieber himself (not his 12-year old fan girls)? Because they are just jumping on the bandwagon. A neutral person might see a lot of other people hating Bieber without any particular reason, and he/she will jump on and starts hating him as well.

If you actually like Justin Bieber, good (just please do me a favor, and DON'T share your feelings for Bieber in the comments section below). If you don't like Justin Bieber, think about why you don't like him. Do you really hate him? Or are you just jumping on the same bandwagon your friends are in? I think it sounds pretty dumb to hate on someone you don't really know.

proh-kras-tuh-ney-shuhn

I should be doing my homework. I should be doing laundry. I should be taking out the trash. What should you be doing?

I bought this book like, a year ago, and I haven't even opened it once. Oh, the irony.

Procrastination [proh-kras-tuh-ney-shuhn] (noun): 

1. In psychology, procrastination refers to the act of replacing high-priority or important actions with tasks of lower priority, or doing something from which one derives enjoyment, and thus putting off important tasks to a later time.
2. See kent.

So yeah. I procrastinate. And I do it a lot. I have been trying to fix that habit. Of course, with no result. (Else I would be doing my homework and laundry, taking my trash out before writing this post) 

However, as dumb as it might sound, procrastination has its own perks. Here are some that I could think of straight away.

1. In some rare cases which what you have to do gets cancelled (ie. you don't have to do it anymore), you actually save time compared to those early worms. Just remember, the early bird gets the worm, the late worms get to live.
2. You actually do it in less time than those who do it as soon as possible (at the price of the quality of your work).
3. And as Steven Wright says: Hard work pays off in the future, but laziness pays off now. If you  procrastinate, you get to do whatever you want to do now (be it blogging or even watching Gossip Girl on Mondays) instead of later.

Those are some perks to procrastination, but of course there are like 859126349812391 disadvantages to being lazy. I am an astute believer that it's okay to be lazy as long as you get the job done.

So yeah, every time you feel guilty about being lazy, remember that laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired. Oh God, I'm getting kinda sleepy now. I'll go to sleep, and you should be doing whatever you want to do. Except if you're reading my blog (which, of course, you are), in which case, just ignore whatever you should be doing and continue reading. :)

hurr durr!

Hi everyone!

My name is kent, and I'll be your host for this blog. I like to think of my blog as my room. Now, if you do know me IRL, you might know that I'm kinda reluctant to letting people into my room, since it's as messy as Lady Gaga's dress. Which is why I never thought of writing a blog until now. So the fact that you're reading this is actually a big step towards our relationship. I think of you readers as my lover who I let into my room (sounds corny, but whatever).

I write a lot, but it takes a lot of courage to publish a writing (almost as much as it takes to start cracking an egg to make dinner). So here I sit writing this post hoping I will be able to have enough courage to post frequently. Boom.

That being said, welcome to my blog!