"Hey, he could cut hair." Trevor pointed towards a Tongan walking by his restaurant. "Malo e lelei, fefe hake?" I asked. The Tongan turned around and responded "Sai auptio!" After some small talk, I finally asked if the person wouldn't mind giving me a hair cut then and there at Trevor's restaurant. He happily agreed. Luckily Trevor had a pair of scissors and a comb handy. That was my last hair cut, which was well over a year ago...
That is until this past weekend. I measured my hair; it met the 8 inches minimum necessary for donation. I decided it was time to get a hair cut! Besides, the weather was warming up, not to mention the fact that I was finding enough leftover hair around the house to suspect a small phantom dog was hiding somewhere. Adrienne must have noticed my 'shedding' because within minutes, she had a list of salons nearby. A quick call later and I found myself sitting in a salon with my hair tied neatly in two long braids.
As the remaining pieces of my hair fell, I had the opportunity to view the bustling and very fashionable salon through its reflection. Even though it was my first time in a salon, it wasn't the hair wash, the massage, or the facial that fascinated me the most. I still couldn't believe that last year, I pulled a random stranger off the street to help me cut my hair...
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Love Adrienne!!!!
Hey! I love Adrienne. She's so hottttttt =)
Note: This may or may not have been written by Adrienne
Note: This may or may not have been written by Adrienne
My spider senses are tingling!
After moving into our new place on Sunday, Adrienne and I noticed that our apartment felt as cold as a cave! (Consider this a warning to all potential visitors! Our place is now dubbed "The Bunker")
Normally I would laugh and mock my girlfriend's inability to generate body heat while I would sleep warm and snuggly. This time I even felt cold so I decided that something had to be done immediately and that this was no joking matter.
I looked at the bunker's aging gas heater, wondering how to operate it. Where do I log in? Where's the power switch? Man, I wish I wasn't out sick laying on the ground drooling on myself when the landlord showed us the place.
With my numb fingers, I tried to ignite the fire with the small switches. We would try to turn the knob from an ignited pilot switch to the "ON" position, but with each attempt the fire would just die out. After numerous attempts, we finally understood how it worked. I just need to light the fire while pumping the gas! The heater rattled alive and we quickly rejoiced as our fingers regained sensation. We had conquered this ancient technology with our mighty brains of the future!!
Still, the heater was warming up too slowly for our impatient bodies so we pulled up our mattress next to the heater. We laid out blankets and I quickly fell asleep with only a small headache and sinuses, naively thinking that I'd be ready for work the next day.
I woke up worse. I called in sick. Adrienne had a sore throat, but left the Bunker early to take care of shopping and help clean up the remainder of our old apartment (she's so sweet!).
Throughout the day, I kept waking up feeling a bit worse. At 7 p.m., my body instinctively told me that I had to get away from the Bunker and get some much needed fresh air. I also secretly wanted some Kung Pao chicken. Even though I had been resting all day, it wasn't doing me much good. The more I slept, the more I felt.. tired.
When I stood up, my head become instantly dizzy and throbbed with pain. It was like I had a midget in my head kicking me every time I tried to get up. For the first time in a long while, I felt the surging sensation to throw up. I climbed the stairs leading to our apartment and was barely able to stop myself from puking all over my neighbor's plants. (I heard in some cultures, that's how you properly greet your new neighbors?)
A couple more blocks brought me to the local Henry's market. They didn't have any ibuprofen or Kung Pao Chicken), but my nausea was starting to disappear even without it. I started feeling remarkably better by the mere act of walking around and getting fresh air. After traveling a little less than a mile, I found a Ralph's that had some Advil.
Adrienne and I returned home pretty much at the same time. She had gone shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond, Home Depot, and Target. She bought everything from color complimenting bathroom rugs to a carbon monoxide detector. She went on about how this color would match with this color, but my headache still drowned out her voice.
I had joked on the first night that we would die from carbon monoxide poisoning during our first night in the bunker. Since it was an invisible and odorless gas that caused death, we wouldn't know that that we were even dying! Adrienne didn't sleep so well after that joke. She couldn't find the humor in it (just like most of my Peace Corps friends couldn't find the humor in a falling coconut related death)
As soon as I plugged in the carbon monoxide tester, 4 high pitched squeals went off. Ouch, it hurt my ear!!! Moments later, another 4 chirps went off in quick succession. I looked at the instructions. 4 quick chirps mean that there is a harmful amount of carbon monoxide. Oh shit. As quickly as we moved our mattresses towards the loving warmth of the Bunker's friendly heater, we just as quickly opened our windows and pulled our mattresses from the invisible cloud of death.
With the carbon monoxide releasing into the open environment, we hoped that our new (and fairly distant) neighbors wouldn't catch a wiff of death mixed into their dinners. Due to the large amount of foilage, we doubt it would travel far (according to myNon-existing...Limited... well read knowledge about how lethal gases would dissipate through the air into non lethal doses). Ok, now with perfect hindsight, maybe we should have warned them and called 911. (Though we figured it was ok since the alarm stopped crying at us) At least I didn't throw up in their plants.
I learned a couple of very important lessons after all of this. Sure, you should be really careful about old gas heaters. However, you should really be on the lookout for danger if you ever have a craving for Kung-pao chicken.
Normally I would laugh and mock my girlfriend's inability to generate body heat while I would sleep warm and snuggly. This time I even felt cold so I decided that something had to be done immediately and that this was no joking matter.
I looked at the bunker's aging gas heater, wondering how to operate it. Where do I log in? Where's the power switch? Man, I wish I wasn't out sick laying on the ground drooling on myself when the landlord showed us the place.
With my numb fingers, I tried to ignite the fire with the small switches. We would try to turn the knob from an ignited pilot switch to the "ON" position, but with each attempt the fire would just die out. After numerous attempts, we finally understood how it worked. I just need to light the fire while pumping the gas! The heater rattled alive and we quickly rejoiced as our fingers regained sensation. We had conquered this ancient technology with our mighty brains of the future!!
Still, the heater was warming up too slowly for our impatient bodies so we pulled up our mattress next to the heater. We laid out blankets and I quickly fell asleep with only a small headache and sinuses, naively thinking that I'd be ready for work the next day.
I woke up worse. I called in sick. Adrienne had a sore throat, but left the Bunker early to take care of shopping and help clean up the remainder of our old apartment (she's so sweet!).
Throughout the day, I kept waking up feeling a bit worse. At 7 p.m., my body instinctively told me that I had to get away from the Bunker and get some much needed fresh air. I also secretly wanted some Kung Pao chicken. Even though I had been resting all day, it wasn't doing me much good. The more I slept, the more I felt.. tired.
When I stood up, my head become instantly dizzy and throbbed with pain. It was like I had a midget in my head kicking me every time I tried to get up. For the first time in a long while, I felt the surging sensation to throw up. I climbed the stairs leading to our apartment and was barely able to stop myself from puking all over my neighbor's plants. (I heard in some cultures, that's how you properly greet your new neighbors?)
A couple more blocks brought me to the local Henry's market. They didn't have any ibuprofen or Kung Pao Chicken), but my nausea was starting to disappear even without it. I started feeling remarkably better by the mere act of walking around and getting fresh air. After traveling a little less than a mile, I found a Ralph's that had some Advil.
Adrienne and I returned home pretty much at the same time. She had gone shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond, Home Depot, and Target. She bought everything from color complimenting bathroom rugs to a carbon monoxide detector. She went on about how this color would match with this color, but my headache still drowned out her voice.
I had joked on the first night that we would die from carbon monoxide poisoning during our first night in the bunker. Since it was an invisible and odorless gas that caused death, we wouldn't know that that we were even dying! Adrienne didn't sleep so well after that joke. She couldn't find the humor in it (just like most of my Peace Corps friends couldn't find the humor in a falling coconut related death)
As soon as I plugged in the carbon monoxide tester, 4 high pitched squeals went off. Ouch, it hurt my ear!!! Moments later, another 4 chirps went off in quick succession. I looked at the instructions. 4 quick chirps mean that there is a harmful amount of carbon monoxide. Oh shit. As quickly as we moved our mattresses towards the loving warmth of the Bunker's friendly heater, we just as quickly opened our windows and pulled our mattresses from the invisible cloud of death.
With the carbon monoxide releasing into the open environment, we hoped that our new (and fairly distant) neighbors wouldn't catch a wiff of death mixed into their dinners. Due to the large amount of foilage, we doubt it would travel far (according to my
I learned a couple of very important lessons after all of this. Sure, you should be really careful about old gas heaters. However, you should really be on the lookout for danger if you ever have a craving for Kung-pao chicken.
Moving in
This past weekend I moved.
At first, I had a nice and simple plan for our move. I like simple plans; the pieces come together so easily. My plan involved only a few trips of Adrienne, me, and my small pickup truck. We wouldn't need a U-Haul since we were only moving 30 miles and we weren't going to bother our friends since we had so little stuff; I also hate asking people for things (it's something that I know I should work on). Since we didn't 'need' the help, we didn't ask for it. I figured that moving our stuff wouldn't really be a logistical problem.
Then I started having the sniffles on Wednesday night. People asked if I was taking medicine for the cold. I thought "Nah, let me try to fight this one out naturally by just drinking lots of water... ooh, and eating a burger. I have a craving for a juicy burger with swiss cheese!" My body is tough; after all, I'm young!
By Thursday afternoon, I had to go home early from work and ditch my Spanish class to rest up. I decided that maybe hamburgers weren't such a good idea and that I would try drinking more water, still keep my greasy meals, but add in vitamins into the formula to help balance out the bad.
That didn't work either and Friday sent me home early with a slight fever and sore eyes. By Saturday morning, my eyes felt like I was back in college trying to catch up on a semesters worth of reading at the last minute. My body felt cold, random, dull pains all over; the pains felt like Karma poking at me for eating that hamburger and thinking that I was above modern science and medicine.
The pain wouldn't go away, despite how much rest I got. On Saturday morning, we had our walk through of the apartment. In a normal walk through, tenants would have to sign all the necessary paperwork and point out the apartment flaws so that they are not held responsible for any preexisting flaws. Well, I was literally sprawled on the ground with my sunglasses and hoodie pulled over my head, trying not to drool on myself. I couldn't concentrate on anything and could barely put my signature on the papers. (As if legalwork wasn't boring enough, amirite?!)
I didn't see the landlord when she walked away to do the rest of the walk through with Adrienne, but I'm sure she must've had second doubts about renting the place to us. Here we were, two pretty young adults, both fairly new out of college, and the person with the only source of income was lying asleep on the hardwood floor drooling on himself. Somehow, the landlord trusted us with the keys...
Now that we had the keys, my simple plan wasn't going to work. I was sick. Although there wasn't that much stuff, there was no way Adrienne could pack, load, and unload all our stuff herself. With some last minute phone calls, we had a few friends come over on Sunday and lend a helping hand! I started to get feel better and by late Sunday, I was back to lifting things myself.
As we plopped all our stuff into our new apartment, we wanted to say that it's nice to be able to count on friends when you need them. Thanks guys.
At first, I had a nice and simple plan for our move. I like simple plans; the pieces come together so easily. My plan involved only a few trips of Adrienne, me, and my small pickup truck. We wouldn't need a U-Haul since we were only moving 30 miles and we weren't going to bother our friends since we had so little stuff; I also hate asking people for things (it's something that I know I should work on). Since we didn't 'need' the help, we didn't ask for it. I figured that moving our stuff wouldn't really be a logistical problem.
Then I started having the sniffles on Wednesday night. People asked if I was taking medicine for the cold. I thought "Nah, let me try to fight this one out naturally by just drinking lots of water... ooh, and eating a burger. I have a craving for a juicy burger with swiss cheese!" My body is tough; after all, I'm young!
By Thursday afternoon, I had to go home early from work and ditch my Spanish class to rest up. I decided that maybe hamburgers weren't such a good idea and that I would try drinking more water, still keep my greasy meals, but add in vitamins into the formula to help balance out the bad.
That didn't work either and Friday sent me home early with a slight fever and sore eyes. By Saturday morning, my eyes felt like I was back in college trying to catch up on a semesters worth of reading at the last minute. My body felt cold, random, dull pains all over; the pains felt like Karma poking at me for eating that hamburger and thinking that I was above modern science and medicine.
The pain wouldn't go away, despite how much rest I got. On Saturday morning, we had our walk through of the apartment. In a normal walk through, tenants would have to sign all the necessary paperwork and point out the apartment flaws so that they are not held responsible for any preexisting flaws. Well, I was literally sprawled on the ground with my sunglasses and hoodie pulled over my head, trying not to drool on myself. I couldn't concentrate on anything and could barely put my signature on the papers. (As if legalwork wasn't boring enough, amirite?!)
I didn't see the landlord when she walked away to do the rest of the walk through with Adrienne, but I'm sure she must've had second doubts about renting the place to us. Here we were, two pretty young adults, both fairly new out of college, and the person with the only source of income was lying asleep on the hardwood floor drooling on himself. Somehow, the landlord trusted us with the keys...
Now that we had the keys, my simple plan wasn't going to work. I was sick. Although there wasn't that much stuff, there was no way Adrienne could pack, load, and unload all our stuff herself. With some last minute phone calls, we had a few friends come over on Sunday and lend a helping hand! I started to get feel better and by late Sunday, I was back to lifting things myself.
As we plopped all our stuff into our new apartment, we wanted to say that it's nice to be able to count on friends when you need them. Thanks guys.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Easter Trip
Screeech!! - the tires squealed across the highway concrete. A gray patch of smoke appeared from under the SUV, followed by the distinct thud of cars colliding. A small pickup truck started to fishtail, but quickly lost all control as it swung 180 degrees across 4 lanes of busy California traffic. Large pieces of wood and debris flew out the truck bed, scattering itself across the lanes.
Within seconds the SUV rested on the far right hand side of traffic, its horn unable to stop blaring and its front bumper laying a lane away, while the truck remained motionless on the far left hand side of traffic, directly facing the oncoming traffic.
I saw the accident from about 100 feet away. By the time my vehicle stopped, it was near two shattered pieces of the 2*4 and within 30 feet of the SUV. I knew my phone was dead, as it had died minutes earlier while I was listening to a friend's voice mail message from New York wishing us a Happy Easter. I asked Adrienne to let me borrow her phone, which she promptly handed over and warned me about running into traffic.
I scanned the scene and noticed that all traffic had halted. I was a bit careful since I was the first one coming out of a car. I ran past the wreckage, past a few stunned cars still in shock, and towards the SUV to check if the passengers were ok. Inside were two Hispanic adults and their child, all who responded that they were ok and appeared without any visible injuries.
I looked across the highway and saw that someone had started checking on the driver of the truck. He seemed to be all right, considering he was rear-ended at 70 miles per hour. Adrienne had come out of my truck and I passed her the phone to call 911 while I helped to clear the lanes of debris. A few others hopped out of their vehicles and started helping as well. As soon as the wreckage was cleared and the call was finished, a Highway patrol car finally appeared on scene and took over.
After the adrenaline rush was over, I noticed that my foot was slightly bleeding. I was only wearing my Chaco sandals since we were out at the beach with some of our Peace Corps Tonga friends this morning. They were behind us and navigated through the traffic to check if we were ok. We signaled that we were good. After I got back inside the truck, I felt a stinging sensation in my foot and noticed a cut.
Looking back, I have no idea how I could have helped. Adrienne was the actual EMT and if the SUV family didn't understand English, my Spanish could only direct her to the nearest library. I'm glad it didn't come down to anyone needing medical attention. If they did, Adrienne would have been able to help. I don't know why I became so overprotective of her.
Within seconds the SUV rested on the far right hand side of traffic, its horn unable to stop blaring and its front bumper laying a lane away, while the truck remained motionless on the far left hand side of traffic, directly facing the oncoming traffic.
I saw the accident from about 100 feet away. By the time my vehicle stopped, it was near two shattered pieces of the 2*4 and within 30 feet of the SUV. I knew my phone was dead, as it had died minutes earlier while I was listening to a friend's voice mail message from New York wishing us a Happy Easter. I asked Adrienne to let me borrow her phone, which she promptly handed over and warned me about running into traffic.
I scanned the scene and noticed that all traffic had halted. I was a bit careful since I was the first one coming out of a car. I ran past the wreckage, past a few stunned cars still in shock, and towards the SUV to check if the passengers were ok. Inside were two Hispanic adults and their child, all who responded that they were ok and appeared without any visible injuries.
I looked across the highway and saw that someone had started checking on the driver of the truck. He seemed to be all right, considering he was rear-ended at 70 miles per hour. Adrienne had come out of my truck and I passed her the phone to call 911 while I helped to clear the lanes of debris. A few others hopped out of their vehicles and started helping as well. As soon as the wreckage was cleared and the call was finished, a Highway patrol car finally appeared on scene and took over.
After the adrenaline rush was over, I noticed that my foot was slightly bleeding. I was only wearing my Chaco sandals since we were out at the beach with some of our Peace Corps Tonga friends this morning. They were behind us and navigated through the traffic to check if we were ok. We signaled that we were good. After I got back inside the truck, I felt a stinging sensation in my foot and noticed a cut.
Looking back, I have no idea how I could have helped. Adrienne was the actual EMT and if the SUV family didn't understand English, my Spanish could only direct her to the nearest library. I'm glad it didn't come down to anyone needing medical attention. If they did, Adrienne would have been able to help. I don't know why I became so overprotective of her.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
New Job, New Travels
I quit working with Sony about a month ago. I'm now working with a nonprofit for the homeless. It's definitely a different environment going from a corporation to being one of only two full time employees in a nonprofit.
Before I started the new job, I took a couple weeks off to travel. I went home to Reedley for Christmas and later went to VA to meet Adrienne's family and friends. We made quick trips to New York City and D.C. to visit friends and sites. We did the cliched Times Square at New Years. It was very interesting; somewhere during the trip we all ended up wearing adult diapers (that's for another post). I'm really thankful for all the great company.
Before I started the new job, I took a couple weeks off to travel. I went home to Reedley for Christmas and later went to VA to meet Adrienne's family and friends. We made quick trips to New York City and D.C. to visit friends and sites. We did the cliched Times Square at New Years. It was very interesting; somewhere during the trip we all ended up wearing adult diapers (that's for another post). I'm really thankful for all the great company.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Unnatural
It's not natural to sit in front of a keyboard slaving away one keystroke at a time. It feels like the longer I stare into this lightly glowing screen, the closer I approach the cliched flash of light that appears just before a near death experience. One minute it's Wednesday morning and we're typing away about the latest ad-hoc test report. The next minute someone's typing up our obituary. Click. Click. Click....
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