Not So Happy Songkran

It’s Thai New Year.

Only a few days after the bloody result of the protest. I don’t think there’s enough water to wash the blood off our hands.

(My family is safe, just FYI.  As a matter of fact, my dad has developed an unhealthy habit of taking an after-dinner evening stroll out to see the Reds’ activities in Radjprasong.  /headhand)

Laws should be enforced. I said the same thing when the Yellow Shirts took over the airport. I say it here too for the Reds.

I also believe that police and military have all the rights to protect themselves if their lives are in danger.

Take a look at last footage shot by slain photographer Hiro Muramoto. The soldiers didn’t throw the bomb at themselves, I can tell you that much.

Having said that, don’t be too quick to blame either the soldiers/police or the Reds.

There are words on the street that his full footage also included a shot of a masked gunman in black clothing.  I haven’t been able to find that footage, however, thanks to the digital world, images and videos of the mythical “third party” emerged.

Like this one.

Not Red? Not military? Who the fuck are you guys and why do you have big guns on you?

And these faceless anarchists in black sporting big guns and a few molotovs:

I can only pray for my country on this supposedly happy holiday season.

And I hope you do too.

Heroes and Assholes

There have been more than one occasions when my bus buddies and I, the last group to get on the bus heading for Downtown LA, would get on our “full” bus to find this.

Is your lunch comfy, jerk?

When I say our bus is full, it means there maybe just enough seats for the last 3-4 of us to sit down and then that’s it.

This guy here would sit just like this with his lunch on the seat.  He would WATCH us scan for seats and not move a muscle.  Until we go up to him to ask him for the seat, he would keep it right there on the seat.  Just like that.  He wouldn’t even attempt to try to move his lunch to clear up a seat when people get on the bus like most decent people would do.

On those occasions, I would make a point to go straight for that motherfuckin’ seat.  Last time, I didn’t even ask, “Can I sit here?” but “Can you move your lunch?”.

Every morning I see him, I swear to god it’s like this.  Given, some of us with much possessions would put our crap on the seat too. But this is a fucking brown bag, dude. Put it on our fucking lap.

Our bus is a commuter bus with limited run.  Most of us see each other everyday.  Some of us even go out to dinner off the bus…yeah, that’d be me and my little gang.

So we have come to identified who are decent people and who are complete asshats.

For example, a few weeks ago the earlier of the two buses home was broken down.  The first bus home is notorious for being crowded all the time since they cut the second bus out of our route.  By the time our usual last bus picked everyone up, it was reported that people actually had to stand on the way home.  I wasn’t on the bus but my friend Ana was, and she was the last one getting on the standing room only bus.

I knew exactly who on my last bus would give up their seats for Ana and any other women. She confirmed it.  There were more guys who wouldn’t give up their seats that day for anybody.

Fuck, man. I gave up my seat for an old lady on an 1-hour-ride sardine-can MTA bus before when all the dudes just stared ahead. (And then they stared at ME for giving up said seat.)  An hour standing isn’t bad. Find some balls and be a man.

In situations like these is when you find out who the good people are.

Chivalry isn’t dead, yet.  My congratulations and utmost respect to all the parents who raise their sons right.

Like this guy at my Starbucks this morning.

He already went through the door when he saw me approaching many steps away.  He took a step backward, out of the line, to open the door for me.

Now, that was very sweet of him.

So, when he was ready to pay for his coffee, I handed my card to the cashier instead.  For a second, I didn’t think he knew what just happened.  LOL.  When he figured it out, of course, he wouldn’t let me pay for his coffee but I insisted.

“You made my day. I’m making yours,” I said.

Now, you go out and make someone’s day.  Even if it’s just holding the door open.

God and Eating

I went to my college friend’s wedding yesterday.  I knew she is religious and as I received the invitation, I found out that he is too.  It’s a match made by God, essentially.

I have been to many weddings: a full mass in beautiful cathedral and Christian-light ceremony which I really don’t mind.  I’ve been to the  we-made-our-own-tradition, and this-ain’t-about-God/gods ones, and those are usually quite fun.

But this one totally takes the Holy Roller cake.

It’s a little bit frightening when every sentence of the introduction of the ceremony had either God or Jesus Christ in it. And then realized that most of the people there were from the bride and groom’s respective churches.

The speech about marriage being a union of a man and a woman as intended by God, now that I came to expect.  I remembered going to a Catholic wedding once with my gay “fiance” Cheech as my date. (Hey, Cheech did say if Brandon wasn’t going to marry me, he would do it just so I didn’t have to leave the country. So yeah, he was my gay fiance! Haha!)  We were late so we were in the back of the church anyway, but when it got to the man and woman part, we were rolling our eyes and stifling our giggles in the back.

Here, I rolled my eyes to myself and softly “pssshh”.  In hindsight, the folks I heard singing the hymn behind me later on probably were damning me to hell the entire time I made side comments like that.

Especially during the submissive wife section of the speech.

I thought for a second I had traveled back through time. It was said at least 3 times that the wife is made out of the husband, and must be submissive to him and follow him.  He is to follow Jesus and she is to follow him.  He may not understand you or anger you, but you should listen because he is your husband and you have to trust that he is right.

Did the wind blow so hard we landed in 1910?  I wasn’t really sure.  Until the kid next to me stared playing with his iPhone out of boredom.

To each, his/her own flavor, I understand it and respect it.

Another friends’ wedding was the complete opposite to this one.  Theirs was a spiritual union. They mentioned that love is for all and marriage is for all as well.  That the couple would listen to each other and be supportive of each other’s choices.  Perhaps those on the other side of the gay marriage fence would be offended by someone turning their wedding into a bit of a political soap box.  Well, that’s how I feel about getting Jesus preached at.

But, man, having to sit on a windy and chilly rooftop for one-hour while getting Jesus beating into me totally gave me a glimpse into what my personal hell would look like.

This lovely heavy-handed Christian flavor also continued through the reception which is, you might have already guessed, a dry one.

Thank GOD the bar was only a few steps away.  I kept running into the bride’s cousins there.  LOL.

However, the redemption came with the Chinese banquet.

11 fucking courses of fantastic Chinese food, y’all.

There were only 8 of us at the table up through Course 4 before 2 of them left.  We did pretty good considering one of the friends doesn’t eat seafood.

  1. Appetizers, and there were five: roasted duck, jelly fish salad, seaweed salad, marinaded tofu and mushrooms, barbecued pork, and sliced beef.
  2. Honey walnut shrimp
  3. Scallops, snow peas, carrots
  4. This green soup with seafood bits in it.  Funny part is I asked the waiter what soup it is. He said it’s vegetarian. Me: Oh, ok…wait is that shrimp? Him: Yes. Me: Er…ok…
  5. Beef and asparagus sauteed in some wonderful sauce and served in this crispy noodle bowl.  Our friend Ed called in “Poetry on a Plate”.Eduardo called this poetry on a plate. I call it happy death by gluttony.
  6. Wonderfully crispy skin fried roast chicken with wonderfully moised meat, served with shrimp crackers.
  7. Abalone with bok choy and shitake mushrooms.
  8. Steamed whole fish with ginger and other spices. De-boned whole at the table. It was pretty cool.  Sweet, sweet fish. So very tasty.Course 8. De-boned table side. We can do this...i think?
  9. Egg fried rice with whatever was left in it: a little barbecued pork, some shrimps, some scallops, some chicken.
  10. Mango pudding.  Lovely, not too sweet little cups of heaven.
  11. Cake: you either get chocolate cake with whipped cream filling or yellow cake with strawberry cream.

.

The holy rolling ceremony may have turned me off.  But the food definitely got me thanking the Lord!

And I’m also thanking God to have blessed me with the diversity in my group of friends.  So far, nobody kills anybody over their political or religious believes.

Not yet.

Cosmic F*ckery

Today, the Universe decided that it hates people in my life.

1. Brandon tore his calf muscle

As he changed the oil on his car on Friday, Brandon discovered some coolant leakage. Upon further inspection by the auto shop, there are more than just that. We think the Anniversary accident knocked things loose. So, this morning, instead of waking up to drive me to my stop, the Mister decided to sleep in a little. I left my car 5 blocks down at my bus stop.

As he was walking over to the car, Brandon stepped off the curb and, according to his ER doctor, probably landed wrong on his heel. He heard something popped and he was in excruciating pain and couldn’t put his foot down. Being a Marine, dude sucked it up, hobbled across the 6 lanes to the other side, then his body went into a bit of shock and he sat down and passed out for a second. He then proceeded to hobble some more to the car, got in, calmly called me, and drove himself to the ER about 8 blocks down.

I received the call around 8:30.  By the way, I’m in Downtown LA, 25 miles away, with no easy way to get home at that time.  You see, my special commuter bus runs 3 times into town and twice out in the evening.  If you need to get back any other time, you’ll have to take the Disneyland bus to Norwalk Station and either catch 2 more buses to get to my house or someone else have to come get you from the station.

Thank GOD for my former bus buddy Patty who retired about a month ago.  I called her asked for a ride and she was available.  Now, skip to read #2 and come back to read the rest of this.

Patty dropped me off at the ER and I waited for a good hour before Brandon hobbled out on crutches.  Torn calf muscle, he said, and possible torn tendon but they don’t know that yet.  And now we were off to his physician to get a referral to see a specialist and get an MRI or something else.  His doctor gave him a shot of stuff and sent us home with vicodin.

2. Patty’s car died on the way to rescue me

After she hung up with me, my friend Patty went to finish her errands.  Her car sputtered and died on the way home.  Thank GOD her sister was home, so she drove over to sit with Patty’s car until AAA arrives so Patty could use her car to come get me.

3. A coworker had to go to the hospital

Meanwhile, as I ran from work to come home to take care of Brandon, a coworker apparently got ill enough to need to be rushed to the hospital.

4. Burbank DMV’s computer system went down

My boss took the morning off to go to her DMV appointment.  System was down so no appointment could be kept.  She pretty much wasted her morning.

5. The bus before my usual home bound bus broke down

Ana took the bus into town with me this morning.  She usually takes a different bus or she would drive.  However, she was getting on the earliest bus home.  She waited, and waited, and started to get panicky about the bus home.  As she found out later, when my usual bus showed up, the one she was waiting for has broken down.  So she was on a super crowded bus back, behind her usual schedule.

I’m telling you. Cosmic Fuckery.

In Your Face, Jimmy

After the Golden Globes, I was really, REALLY afraid Avatar was going to take the Oscars.  Yes, I like the movie. It was an incredible escape, an experience you wish every movie could provide.

But the Globes gave Avatar Best Picture?  What were they smoking?  I mean, it’s a fantastic technological leap forward in movie re-making for Pocahontas/Fern Gully/Dances with Wolves.  That doesn’t deserve Best Picture.  That kind of voting usually we leave for the Academy of the Easily Persuaded.

Well, this time, the Academy is also easily persuaded but not by the biggest movie of the year but by the most critically-hyped film which the Globes ignored.

Topsy turvy, my little world of Pop Culture has become.  I blame it on the global warming.  Or dying bees. Or something.

But anyway. Hooray for The Hurt Locker!

Not sure if it “deserves” the award yet, but having the first female director winning as Oscar totally kicks ass.

It is odd to go into the Oscars and not having seen the Best Pictures films because I didn’t do the AMC marathon this year.  2 Saturdays of 5 movies? I just couldn’t do it.  I managed to have seen 4 out of 10–Avatar, Inglorious Basterds, Up, and District 9–which will be 5 out of 10 as soon as I pop The Hurt Locker in to the DVD player.  It’s been sitting here by TV  for the past 2 weeks. (Sorry, Netflix!)

So I go back to my method of buzz judging.  And boy, my buzz meter still works beautifully.  As a matter of fact, it works so well that I’m starting to think that my personal judgment is obviously flawed.  If you look at my recent years of prediction when I actually saw all Best Picture nominees and a few other, I’ve been horribly wrong.

This year, going in half blind, I only missed 5 out of 24.  Back to the 79.17% accuracy of 2007, baby!  (2008 was the most disastrous at 50% and 2009 was 58%)

I was on the spot guessing The Cove over Food Inc. for Best Doc–despite my strong feelings for Food Inc.–and Young Victoria over Nine for Costume Design.  It usually doesn’t fail to bet on a lavish period pieces for Costume Design.  And, of course, the luckiest guess of Music by Prudence for Short Doc.

Foreign-language film, as of recent years, has always been a wild guess.  I went with A Prophet. I blame Entertainment Weekly for that one.  The sound awards, usually go to the big bang/boom movies so naturally I picked Star Trek (editing) and Transformers (mixing) and missed on both account.  I guess there are more bombs in The Hurt Locker than I thought.  And of course, a big fan of Wallace & Gromit, I cheered for them and was wrong.  The surprise miss was Best Actress.  I thought for sure Gabourey would go home with the Oscars.

Oh, and I don’t know who else was offended by the Orchestra’s choice to play “I am woman” when Kathryn Bigelow exited the stage for Best Director.  I mean, it is definitely a “You go, girl!” moment, but “I am woman”?!?  Really???

However, watching the reaction shot of Jim Cameron after losing both Best Director and Best Picture to his ex-wife is priceless. Heehee…

Final note:

Dear Sam Worthington,

You know I love you. I’m absolutely, hopelessly charmed by your toothy smile which you seem to have forgotten to do when a non-movie camera is pointed at you.  You know I adore your accent and your gentle eyes.  Did I mention your pretty, pretty mouth…yeah…

However, sweetie, you were up in the stage presenting the Academy Awards chewing gum.

First you stop smiling.  And now you can’t stop chewing gum.

My fantasy life with you crumbles to the floor under the weight of reality.  What a shame.

Love.

– OakMonster

Book Burning

I’m no literacy scholar. Nor am I someone who’d go through 100 books a year.

So when I say I hate a book, you don’t have to agree with me.  I don’t expect you to.

I have a policy when it comes to reading a book.  Once I start, I must finish even if I don’t enjoy it all that much.  You know, the whole finish what you’ve started thing.

There have been occasions, however, when I just couldn’t go through with it.  Sometimes it was because it was boring. Sorry, Dickens. The Great Expectation will be read someday…as soon as I can stop falling asleep every 5 pages.  Like Reading Lolita in Tehran. I didn’t even get to actually reading Lolita, I don’t think.  About the 5th time it was complained about the horrible situation for women, I was done.  We got nowhere for 1/3 of the book already.  Sheesh.

Sometimes it’s the writing style…which you’ll read about later on.

At least with these that I quit early, I didn’t feel like I wasted my time.  You know, it’s like tasting something you weren’t sure you’d like. If you throw it away now, then you only have a little bad taste in your mouth.  But if you go finish it, you will suffer the pain and hate yourself for having gone through with it.

And that is exactly what happened with the first book of 2010, Anne Rice’s Angel Time.

It was one of those that I was hooked into the story and the characters just to get let down at the end.  Those that I really want my time AND money back after I finished.  I am so angry and disappointed to have invested my emotions and time (and money!) into it that I do want to burn that fucking book down so nobody else has to suffer the same fate.

First on the burn list, Angel Time.

From the cover, Angel Time showed some promises. The jacket grabbed my attention while I browsed through limited new fictions in Asia Books in Bangkok.  I grabbed this from Anne Rice’s website.

The novel opens in the present. At its center: Toby O’Dare—a contract killer of underground fame on assignment to kill once again. A soulless soul, a dead man walking, he lives under a series of aliases—just now: Lucky the Fox—and takes his orders from “The Right Man.”

Into O’Dare’s nightmarish world of lone and lethal missions comes a mysterious stranger, a seraph, who offers him a chance to save rather than destroy lives. O’Dare, who long ago dreamt of being a priest but instead came to embody danger and violence, seizes his chance. Now he is carried back through the ages to thirteenth-century England, to dark realms where accusations of ritual murder have been made against Jews, where children suddenly die or disappear . . . In this primitive setting, O’Dare begins his perilous quest for salvation, a journey of danger and flight, loyalty and betrayal, selflessness and love.

Intriguing, right?  So naturally, I ordered it when I came back. Amazon ratings gave it 4 stars.  Brandon was also interested to read it.  Today’s Assassin in 13th century? Yep, we’d really like to know how he’d pull that off.

Brandon got no more than a few chapters in when he gave up.  Now, you have to understand the the Mister is an avid sci-fi reader.  He’s willing to suspend disbelief for the fully fabricated story. However, the inaccuracy of something we know as true will drive him bonkers. One point he couldn’t get over is how Anne Rice would say that the Mission Inn in Riverside is “a couple of hours away” from Beverly Hills and San Juan Capistrano.  Seriously, lady. Have you actually DRIVEN in Southern California?  It definitely takes more than 2 hours from 90210 to the 909. Ditto to SJC.

Brandon also warned me that the writing is very tedious.  Apparently Anne is spending time describing every crack in the beams on the high dome ceiling held together by 18th century glue made out of prized race horses. Or something like that.

Having more tolerance to narrative than the hubby does, I was determined not to let the book defeat me.

Yep. Tedious is correct.  I even caught Anne rice using the same phrase twice within a few paragraphs from each other a few times.  Still I soldiered on.  A quarter of a book in and he still hasn’t killed anyone yet, but he’s getting to it.  Okay fine.  I’ll read a little more.  And then the Angel showed up and we were introduced to how Toby came to be Lucky the Fox, the lute playing, history book reading, mission visiting, quietly praying assassin.

THAT was the part that got me very interested.  Cutting through the tedious tiny details were action, tension, and drama.  Fantastic fun!  Now I know all of Toby’s skills, I was actually excited to see what he’d do in the 13th century.  Oh boy!  It’s going to be worth trudging through the first half the book!

Not so much.  Actually, it’s the second half of the book I want to burn.  Talk about TEDIOUS!  Do you really need 3 chapters to tell a back story? SERIOUSLY? And predictable. I mean at some point you can tell how it’s going to end. I skimmed through the second half because I already know how it is going to end.

The first kicker.  All the stuff you’ve learned about Toby before, what he could do, none was used here.  He didn’t play the lute.  He didn’t use his master of disguise skills since the Angel provides him with magical assistance whenever it is convenient.  He didn’t kill anyone.  All he did was, well, a Lord of the Rings journey: go here to get the story which will lead you to over there which you will have to bring something back here etc.  WTF?!?

The final kicker. One thing I didn’t see coming happened. And dude woke up in present time with a few pages left in the back. If that was all dream, I will send a VERY angry letter to Anne Rice.  It wasn’t all a dream though, I have to say.  But there’s a bombshell.  And the bombshell is contrite as hell and I kind of already guessed that too.

I truly hate it when I was strung along for the ride and there was nothing at the end. No resolution. No answers. Not even a fucking t-shirt.

Yeah, I’m talking to you too, Dean Koontz. *mumblegrumble* Never explain that stupid slow room in Odd Thomas. Don’t tell me it’s in the sequel because you already lost me there, sir. And that slipping through the slot in time thing in From the Corner of His Eyes wins shark jumping medal. *mumblegrumble*

In case of Angel Time, I’ve been strung along and driven off the cliff a long time ago–I just didn’t know when I was going to hit the ground.

Now, back to the fact that I also have books I couldn’t get through because of writing styles.

I must be truly too dumb to appreciate the Pulitzer Prize winning The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz.

Again hooked by the glowing review everywhere for the young writer and the premise of a multicultural sci-fi nerd teen.  The writing style is what gets me. I know it was supposed to be the point of view of Oscar with all of his Spanglish etc. Then there’s some Spanish thrown in for good measures without any translation.  But my GOD it was really hard to read, disruptive and frustrating.

I wanted to give it another try after I was done with Angel Time but of course only a few pages in and I was reminded once again why I didn’t get through it in the first place.

There’s another critical acclaimed book like that that I bought years ago–it was a HUGE volume too–that I didn’t event get past a 1/4 of it.  It was supposed to be about wizards in 18/19th century England that were going to war. Or something like that. I don’t even remember the title. Nor whom I given the book too.  The book was written like a term paper. TONS of footnotes and even more notes in the footnotes.  Disruptive as hell and just wayyyy too much information.

Would I toss that Oscar Wao into the fire with Angel Time?  I might as well. The fire’s already roaring.

And I think Brandon would throw Michael Crichton’s Timeline in after that.  He’s STILL pissed off about the cop-out ending even now.

I’m sure Kuri would add Twilight to the fire too.

Now, your turn! You tell me what book(s) you wish you haven’t wasted time on?  Which book you haven’t gotten through?