But even if it does, you'll just do it all again

"There's a bird in the patio." she said softly as the post-wisdom teeth removal narcotics spread into her system. She must be mistaken because the patio was covered and the door closed. I stepped outside to verify my hypothesis. Sure enough, I see a bird frantically searching for an exit. Another bird on the other side of the thin, wire grating was waiting for his friend, beckoning the new inmate.

My brother was born in Vietnam. The doctors found a fatal growth on his brain that left him with physical and mental disabilities. If it were not removed, he would surely perish. They fled the war-torn land, literally dodging bullets and surface to air missiles to the shining shores of America, where they could seek help for their son. It's a miracle that he survived.

Bao could not speak or sign or communicate in any capacity. He could not walk. He could not function without medical care so my parents had to leave him at a special care home in Corpus Christi.

Every summer of my childhood, we'd visit. I never knew what to say or do. I never knew how to feel. Why couldn't I ever talk about him. My friends would ask me about my family. How do I explain him in a way they can understand and in a way that doesn't make me feel like I'm different?

During camp, we split up into small discussion groups. One of the days, we discuss family. We do an activity in which we build our family sculpture using the group members' bodies to symbolize our nuclear family. Body language could be set to represent characteristics of the family member. Physical proximity could be adjusted to express emotional distances. Every year, I get to the part about my brother, and I break down. I don't cry simply because I'm sad. I cry because I feel. I feel sad because he can't live a normal life. I feel joy because he lives a life. I feel guilt because I have my health. I feel shame because I couldn't ever talk about him. I feel proud because even without a voice, he was able to shape mine and our family's. He shaped our mission and set us on a path. We met others on the same path. The fight is slow, but good is happening. The heart of this community is as big and calm as an ocean. We speak loudly and clearly for those who can not.

You never had a voice. We will speak for you. You never walked. We will walk for you. You never lived a life. We will live for you. You never had a choice. You had to keep on living with the living. I guess you and I are not so different after all.

I opened the door of the patio. The bird flitted around finally finding release. I went back inside and sat down next to her. "Hey, Mel. I'm going back to Arlington tomorrow." "Oh, what for?"
I held my chest trying to hold onto everything that would fall out of me, "it's my brother...He died."

It all came falling out anyways.

Super Phamicom

As I grow older, I find it exceedingly more difficult to act my age. This evening, as I was walking from my car to my front door, I started skipping with the vigor of a 9 year-old girl scout. When I got yo the door, I began to analyze my behavior. It's a pretty steep decline from my car to my driveway, and then it's a very steep incline up the driveway to my door. It's possible I just wanted to build up enough speed to make it up the hill with little effort. But did I absolutely need to flail my arms about like a chorus member in the Oliver Twist musical? Then I started thinking about other examples of my immaturity. I LOVE video games. Sometimes, I spend the entire Saturday playing on my lap top specifically built for gaming while everyone else is at yoga or "running errands" or whatever the hell adults say to encompass their bullshit. I have a spinny/rolly chair at work. When I sit down, I spin, and I roll as if I were playing carnival with my siblings at age 8. I relate every physics problem to SNORLAX. An object in motion, like SNORLAX using BODYSLAM, will stay in motion, unless acted upon by an external force, and an object at rest, like SNORLAX, will remain at rest unless acted upon by an external force or, of course, the POKEFLUTE. It moves him both physically and emotionally by its dulcet melodies. The background of my iPhone is Totoro. I have a stuffed Catbus on my bed. One of my favorite TV shows is Avatar: The Last Airbender. Last week, I had steak fingers for dinner every single night...I'd give you some overwrought, pseudo-profound conclusion, but I want to go play video games now. I bid thee farewell.

PregzWithEmo, I can't.

Okay, so I got onto facebook tonight, with mildly low expectations. I quickly arrived at Tony's page that had a hilarious montage of schadenfreude clips. Spectacular. Loved it. Thank you, Tony. Then, I scrolled down to another friend's page with a link to a video with a screenshot of a woman saying "look at the way you dress." SOLD. If you know me, you know I love women. I was just at a dinner talking about how I really enjoyed watching JJ's girls's basketball b-team win last Thursday because strong women succeeding made me happy. And yes, I get how condescending that sounds, but shit, someone's gotta be happy, and I'm not ready to be that meta.

Here is the video, watch it before continuing reading. And yes, Mel told me that Lonnie posted it earlier, but I didn't know that!
http://www.buzzfeed.com/marietelling/this-powerful-video-shows-men-what-it-feels-like-to-be-subje

Anyway...s(I know, Hannah, but it feels right to include the "s"), so the guy who posted it, a good guy, by the way, included the phrase, "Now, there is a small amount of nudity"...AND THEN, in the comments, a female poster said, "It's only nudity because it's a woman." This is the point at which my mind blew apart into a million mind-blown pieces. I was pregzWithEMO, I was like 8th trimester PREGZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Onto the next topic: America the Beautiful. Really? Do I really know people who hated the Coca-cola ad? Do those people exist, or are they media-manufactured twitter handles that Fox News could use to remain relevant? I'm not quite sure.

NEXT: Lego Movie. WTF. Out of left field. Who saw this coming? When I first heard about Lego Movie, it was from Thomas. Usually, when Thomas is excited about something, I play "devil's advocate" (eh? eh? http://www.hulu.com/watch/591807) and HATE it. I don't know why. It's just something I do. Anyway...s (sorry, Hannah), I falsely-reluctantly(double adverb? are those legal?) went with him yesterday, and it was spectacular. I think what really sold me was the father son scene at the end. Now, I'm not saying I have daddy issues, which, yes, I didn't get a lot of hugs from him when I was a child, but I'm totally over that now because I'm an adult and I am so over that now because why wouldn't I be I'm so old and and totally don't care and I'm perfectly fine and nothing's wrong and I am so chill and cool with not getting hugs which I wanted and whatever.......................................................................................................Seriously, though, I've come to realize that that man will do absolutely anything for me. He's one of the few people that I would ask to drive me to the airport, which, by the way, is the worst thing you could ever ask of someone. I would ask a friend for a kidney before I asked for a ride to the airport. Shame on all of you. I would only ask...dad, mom(except, she's kind of a wild card on the freeway) sisters, Thomas, and Mel. Now where was I? Oh, right, Lego Movie. It has a really great father son scene. This is why I am really into Friday Night Lights, John Q, That one scene in Juno with Juno and the guy with the mustache in Spiderman starring Toby Maguire and not Andrew Garfield, Fresh Prince of Belair starring Will Smith as son and Ben Vereen from Zoobilee Zoo and Pippin as father http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3M1SC8BPhA , Big Fish, and Gone Home.

NEXT: I'd like to discuss Russian Olympics and The Hunger Games. They are the same.

NEXT: I'd like to discuss Super Fruit starring Mitch Grassi and Scott Hoying of Pentatonix fame. They do a hilarious and heart felt rendition of Frozen Medley feat. Kirstie Maldonado. Their other episodes are also fun-filled romps.

NEXT: I'd like to discuss how I really love my friends and how they make me feel about myself. Good.

ALSO: I'd like to discuss Brooklyn 99 and how I don't think Andy Samberg was good enough to win best actor, but I'm glad he won because I'm really pickin' up what SNL is puttin' down. I think that Diaz, Peretti, and Captain are spectacular, but I feel that Terry Crews is not given enough room to show his massive talent based off his comedic performances in White Chicks and Everybody Hates Chris.

Finally!: A student asked me last week when she saw I was having a miserable day of dealing with other students, "Mr. Pham, why are you a teacher? You should do something else where you don't have to put up with all this." I said to her, "well, there are a handful of students who are worth the sacrifice." In reality, it's a lot more than a handful. It's only a few that can ruin your day. The rest tho...the rest tho. #PregzWithEmo.

Filler Episode Post

Words or sayings that have always rubbed me the wrong way:

1. Nest Egg - This was not introduced to me until college...at which point, I was UPset.
2. Touch base - No, I won't be doing that, and also, if you say synergy one more fucking time...
3. Irregardless - Nooooooooooooooooooooo, you have a master's degree in education. STAHPPPPP!

I'm currently on my 3rd season of Friday Night Lights, and I have come to the conclusion that...
I can do all things through Coach Taylor.
I'm Tim Riggins in that I am always trying to do the right thing, but I end up fucking it up.
I'm like Landry in that I don't think YOU realize you deserve to be with someone who treats you better than Tim Riggins treats you.
Finally, I'm like Matthew Saracen in I that I have abandonment issues...but unlike Matthew Saracen, for no reason at all.

I have a lot. I have so much. And I feel guilty when I feel like I don't. What is true and what is felt can be very different things. When I teach circular motion, I have to introduce a very philosophical concept. You see, when a mass revolves around an axis at a constant speed, there is a constant force directed toward the center of the circle that causes the mass to change direction at every single point instead of continuing in a straight path as it is want to do. This is known as a centripetal or "center-seeking" force. Contrary to this, there is an "outward-seeking" force, albeit a a virtual one, known as a centrifugal force. A centrifugal force is not a real force but a feeling of a force caused by situations described in the First and Third Laws of Motion. First, an object in motion will remain in motion unless acted upon by an external force. Then, every force has an equal and opposite reaction force. Imagine being in a car during a very sharp turn. You feel as if you are being pushed outside of the curve, when in reality, your seat belt is pushing you inward or centripetally. No object or field is physically pushing you out. What you know to be true and what you feel can be two very different things. I know I have so much. I know I have developed with every opportunity available to me. I know I have been mentored by the greatest minds on earth. I know I grew up in a neighborhood that allowed me to progress beyond its boundaries. I know I exist in a place that affords me the privilege of expressing my thoughts. But what I feel...what I feel can be very different from the truth.

I had a very wicked thought today. I don't want to be happy and successful in order to be happy and successful. I want to be happy and successful in order to prove wrong all those people who ever told me I wasn't good enough or who didn't believe in me. I want to be happy and successful in order to say I told you so to all those who have betrayed me. Parts of me run on spite, parts of me run on goodness. At times, I feel I am arrogant beyond repair, and then I can bring myself so very low and mock everything I wish to represent. It's all very complicated and problematic. My condolences to all the therapists out there.

I had intended to do a series of Ugly Cry Cinema reviews in which I reviewed a bunch of clips from radio/television/film/videogames that made me ugly cry, but I kind of never got around to it so...sorry. I'll try my best to get that in as soon as possible.

Texas Forever

Nice to meet you-duru.

I've been wanting to write again for a long time now. I just never knew how to get back into it. I guess I never really had a plan, I just wrote about stupid stuff...so that's what I'll do. Here's some stupid stuff regarding my opinions, feelings, and world view.

During October and November, I stopped exercising due to lack of time, willpower, and the fact that it got too cold to walk from my car to the gym double doors. I started up again a couple days ago. Nothing too fancy or strenuous, just 90ish minutes of light lifting and elliptical. I already feel a lot better. I feel denser and more in control of my flailing limbs. Speaking of flailing limbs, some important things to know about me: I'm a flailer. After a night of binge drinking or excessive exercise, I flail about in my bed in defiance of pain. Anyways, this seems to be the story of every New Year's resolution, so I'll go ahead and say that I'll probably stop exercising mid-February until the end of the school year.

Following will be a series of short, non-committal reviews of stuff and things.
The Butler. I watched this film because Maggie said it was sad and made her cry. I love a good induced ugly crying so it was a must. The film follows the life of a White House butler during the administrations of Eisenhower to Reagan, and finally a happy ending of meeting the first black president. My only complaint is that I wish it still expressed the current inequalities in this country despite having a black president.

A Village Called Versailles. Did you know that there were Vietnamese people in Louisiana? Did you know that they too lost their homes in addition to all the black communities in New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina? This reminded me of the Korean communities in LA during the riots. Our story isn't any more or less American than yours. It is simply unheard.

Gravity. I love science. More than anything, I love when other people love it too. It makes you a better person. It gives you good parenting advice to vaccinate your children. It tells you that a woman's uterus is her physical possession and no one else's. It gives you the power to make informed decisions regarding everything in the whole damned world. Stop saying you aren't right-brained...that's not a thing as proven by science. Science is everything, so make an effort to learn from it and contribute positively to the world community. Anyways, I feel Gravity is swell. It explores the facility of letting go and the fight to hold on to life. Gravity represents many things in this film. It represents order, depression, and most importantly, a tether to life. The final scene was dope.

Battle of the Year. This film marked a low point for everyone's favorite Sawyer, Josh Holloway. Fortunately, I saw that he would make a return to television in a cop show called Intelligence. I hope it fully displays his brilliance and removes the stain that is Battle of the Year. I love a shitty dance movie as much as anyone, but this was awful. Don't see it. I don't even recall the plot.

White House Down. Not as good as Olympus Has Fallen contrary to Mel's infatuation with Channing Tatum.

Percy Jackson and the whatevers. Just as horrible as you would think. I watched it because I am a completionist, and I will watch the third movie as well.

Madam Mam's. F3 beef flat noodle with sriracha. I look at people funny when they don't order it. Why would you choose a lesser existence? You must really hate yourself.

Tam's Deli and Cafe. Go there for authentic Vietnamese cuisine.

Skyrim. Do you know why I'm still playing Skyrim 2 years beyond its release date? Mods. Mods add content to a game. You've probably heard of commercial mods called DLC or downloadable content that the publishers release. Smart game companies release a creation kit which allows for gamers to produce their own mods. This has led to a large community of amateur and professional game developers to produce revolutionary mods that completely improve or overhaul the game. This is why Skyrim performs so well on the steam sale. Like its predecessor Oblivion, Skyrim's longevity will remain strong until the release of Elder Scrolls Online, and probably even beyond that.

Gone Home. Imagine you come home from a long out of country vacation only to find that your house is empty, your family is gone, you're all alone. This 2 hour master piece had me at the cusp of an anxiety attack the entire time. This story is told through a series of journals, newspaper clippings, mix tapes, and other clues. The walls of the house are haunted by this family's memories and told the story far better than any human interaction could have done. My favorite part, without any spoilers, is when you find a message from your grandfather to your father, "you can do better," and later you find the same words on a post it on your father's office wall. You could feel a father's disappointment resonating over decades from four simple words. This reminded me of an episode of This American Life where Ira Glass describes how his father worked in radio before becoming a CPA. Ira had no idea about it until later on in life because his father simply never talked about it. He had to change careers in order to support his family because he felt there was no future in radio. Ira explains how hard it must be for a parent to watch their child pursue something that they felt wasn't worth it. I'm going to be really disappointed when my ballerina engineer daughter chooses to play softball and become a model instead. I'm going to be really really disappointed when her younger brother tells me he is straight and instead of playing piano or writing plays, he chooses to be a United States senator. BLARG!

Friday Night Lights. I love. I don't care for football. I'm glad that Connie Britton is there to express the other side of the story. The one that doesn't care how many TDs you get. The one that promotes an investment in education over a game. I loved the episode that shows the power of the word, "SLUT," and sex inequality. I love how these kids remind me of my students.

This American Life: House Rules. I've been obsessed with this episode for some time now. House rules explores the Fair Housing Act which prohibits discrimination based on race, sex, religion, etc. It describes the generational struggle of people who simply live in a poorer neighborhood than yours. It tells how the greatest promoter of housing discrimination was not the bankers who refused loans, but the US government itself. The most powerful message was that your life is predetermined by the neighborhood you are raised. I grew up in a privileged neighborhood. My life right now is very easy. I didn't earn this life. I was simply raised in a privileged neighborhood. To my privileged friends, stop taking credit for something that was handed to you and stop thinking you are better than someone else who grew up in a less privileged neighborhood. This episode resonated with me because a couple days prior, Eshe and Kristi were discussing the current housing inequality of Austin, the self-proclaimed last bastion of freedom within the confines of the red state. Long story short, this is not a post-racial America. I repeat, this is not a post-racial America. Race permeates our lives. The more money you have, the further you can get away from it, but you'll never escape it. Later, I had a similar conversation with my sisters when they visited. It's amazing how conscious they both are on social justice. I had the privilege of brilliant mentors from camp. They must have had access to great educators as well. We all took different paths, but we're all here trying to make this world a better place. It's the same with the people with whom I surround myself. We have very different backgrounds, but we have a common goal. Isn't that nice?

Jenna Maroney claims the meanest thing you can say to someone you've already met is, "Nice to meet you."

I want to sing again.

Paranoid Phamdroid

One day, I tried to write a short story, but it developed into a plot line from The Wonder Years. It was about a 12 year old android boy who was engineered with an advanced emotion processor catalyzing an evolution into something more than human. It ended with a log in the middle of the forest. A girl was sitting there alone weeping for her recently deceased father. Android boy makes an attempt to console her but instead stares straight forward in complete silence. After the sobs die out, he recants a joke that she told him long ago, and they get to be kids again even if for a moment. Anyways, that was the end of an early episode of The Wonder Years in which Winnie's brother dies in Vietnam. That show was written far beyond its time.

Phambiguosly Gay Duo

Oh, y'all already know what this blog is about, but I will entertain you until the time is right. It's been a while my friends. Some very interesting people have been asking about the whereabouts of my next blog post. I have no good reason. Summer happened. I had writer's block, so I avoided the topic.

 The other night, I was having a beer with my good friend Tucker when I happened upon my summer '08 American History 1865-Present professor at the Draught House. Carl took this class with me so he should remember. This man, Professor Haney, was possibly the best college professor during my tenure at the University of Texas. It wasn't that he had any unique way of teaching history (as my administrators at work would believe is the only way to reach young minds), it was that he had passion. He didn't have any technologically advanced way of feeding us information. He actually just typed notes out on Microsoft Word. It was probably the Office 95 version too! He LOVED what he did. He LOVED explaining to us the implications of the film industry on race relations during the early 1900's. He LOVED explaining to us the upshot of the Cuban Missile Crisis on the advertising agencies of the time. He LOVED to remind us that these types of events were happening today. He LOVED to remind us that our voices sang the same song of change as those in our textbooks. This man did not simply teach me about history, he breathed it into my lungs and my heart. He did this in the same way that Mrs. Green did in AP US History in high school. I majored in biochemistry. Throughout my college career, I took a 100+ hours of science courses. Every once in a while, I was allowed to enrich my knowledge of life with a couple history lessons, lessons that I valued beyond anything I ever learned in organic chemistry. To put it simply, I FUCKING loved this class. As an educator, it meant the world to me to be able to thank him for his service.

 At the end of summer after graduating, I was without employment. I scoured the world for work. Eventually, I happened upon a teaching assistant position at the university. The position required that I met a certain grade point average. This all depended on what I made on my summer courses which were US History and Human Sexuality. I needed an A in both. Unfortunately, I made a high B in each course, so I emailed the professors about my plight and provided reasons on why I should get a higher grade. I knew I didn't deserve shit in Human sex. I missed a stupid journal entry (write about feelings) that brought my grade way down. I think I did it on purpose because I thought I would get an A regardless. The TA could see this so she said it was a fucking "learning experience" to always do the best you can do. FUCK HER. I'm a privileged college student who has never worked a day in his life. What the fuck do I know about responsibility and doing the best I can do? US History professor Haney was a bit more understanding of my situation. He knew that I came in everyday, sat at the front of class everyday, and listened intently to his humble lectures. He acknowledged that I did in fact master the objectives he set for the course and boosted my grade to an A. Even though I did not get the position I had wanted due to the stupid human sex TA, I am forever in debted to Professor Haney's ability to validate my accomplishments.

 Validation. This concept has stuck with me ever since Camp. If any of you know me personally, you know that Camp means more to me than words can express. I'm already pregz with emo just thinking about it. During the summer of 2002, I was asked by my English teacher Mrs. Thomas to attend Camp Anytown. At first, I was skeptical because I noticed that she only asked the "minorities" to attend. I was reluctant to attend some cumbahyah camp and express my feelings and cry and paint ponies and rainbows and blah blah blah. Eventually, I agreed to go, and my friend Nader and I were on a bus off to some woods. When we arrived to the camp grounds, the staff was pounding on the bus, cheering for our arrival, and celebrating our names. I turned to Nader, 'Oh gawd, it's gonna be like that.' To be honest, I can't remember exactly what changed my mind. I just know that it did. This place, this magical place, was a microcosm of solace where I could just exist without any expectation placed upon me. I was allowed to just be me. 

Growing up in the suburbs was not difficult. Many of the people I know and love have experienced so much strife and pain during their upbringing that I am ashamed of telling my lackluster story. I am the son of a Vietnamese family from the middle class. I went to a private school during my early years, and then I attended an exemplary middle school and high school. We stuck to our comfort zones. I never bothered anyone else, and nobody bothered me. And then I went to camp. I could finally see the injustice of this lifestyle. I was completely unaware of struggle. I was completely unaware of discrimination. I was completely unaware of these unspoken divisions in my community. I always felt like I didn't really belong. After I went to camp, I realized why that was. I didn't fit in because I could not accept life the way it was. I could not accept the fact that a person was treated differently than me solely because he came from a less affluent neighborhood than mine. I can still remember the day in gym class when one of my classmates was violently assaulted in the locker room because he was "poor" and could not afford new clothes. His blood stained the walls. And you know what I did when this happened? I DIDN'T DO SHIT! I was afraid. I was a coward. I didn't speak out against injustice. I was nothing.

 When I went to camp, I was a broken child. I only believed in the power of war. I only saw the effects of hate. I did not believe that humanity was good. I hated us. When I went to camp, Cinto, one of my many mentors, told me that I was good. He told me that despite our different life experiences, we were the same. He told me that despite all of the things that separated us, we were brothers. I doubt he even remembers little 16 year old Johnny. Our year was easy to forget. But I remembered him. I remembered Q. I remembered Chuck. I remembered everyone. I could not let this feeling go. Our class wasn't the best of classes. Honestly, the only person I keep in contact with is Nader, but I think we've kept the spirit alive. Our experience was validated.

 Validation. Cinto introduced me to this word for the first time in a meaningful way. When he went to camp many years ago as a teenager, he felt validation as a voice for the first time from someone outside his community, from someone outside his race. This summer, I finally understood the word. This summer, President Obama announced to the world that we would give the DREAMers a shot at a fair life. This happened on the last day of camp. This happened after a group of our young people professed that they were undocumented. This happened after those same individuals were embraced by our community. This happened after those individuals were VALIDATED by their peers. They found validation. I found validation for what it is I do. What I do is very little in comparison to my other mentors, Miguel, Claudia, Cinto, Adena. What I do has no place in the realm of achievement as my mentors. These people are angels on earth. Their fight, which is essentially our fight, is far from over. Please educate yourselves on this issue, this revolution, that affects each of us on a human level. http://www.dreamactivist.org/

 I can't believe I even exist in the same organization as these great people. I am so very humbled. Y'all know me. I am conceited as shit. When I am in the presence of camp staff, however, I am but a whisper. What we do at camp, no matter how obscurely I try to explain it, is not mystical. We simply offer a place for our youth to be themselves. We simply let people love the way they were meant to love. It's about CommUNITY. As I have said before, the dalai lama spends his whole life in meditation in order to make his heart as big as an ocean. Because when you drop a bit of your pain into it, that pain is absorbed. The heart of our community is an ocean. It is time to absorb the pain of the world, and let the healing begin.

 This leads me to my not so happy part of my blog. This whole chick-fil-a nonsense has gotten me a bit riled up. I agree whole-heartedly with J-Stew's and L-Carver's assessment of the debacle. GAY MARRIAGE IS HAPPENING. It doesn't matter how hard you protest against it. It doesn't matter how many chicken sandwiches you eat in opposition to it. IT's GONNA HAPPEN! Just like integration happened, just like suffrage happened, just like slavery ended, just like the first black president happened, just like AMERICA HAPPENED! Nothing you do will be able to stand against it. You will fail. Just like the Nazi's, just like the Confederacy, just like the KKK, just like Saddam, just like Bin Laden. You will LOSE. It is you, who supports hate. Many people are confused about why this argument about chicken is so prevalent today. The reason is because it NEEDS to happen. People NEED to be angry. People were angry because of the Jena 6. People were angry because of Matthew Shepard. People got angry about Trayvon. People got angry because of Kony. People were angry because of Katrina. PEOPLE NEED TO BE ANGRY! THIS IS INJUSTICE. THIS NEEDS TO BE AT THE FOREFRONT OF DEBATE. WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT THE ECONOMY AND JOB CREATION WHEN PEOPLE ARE BEING TREATED LIKE SHIT FOR NO OTHER REASON THAN THE FACT THAT THEY ARE DIFFERENT?! WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT TAX CUTS WHEN A PERSON IS UNJUSTLY IMPRISONED FOR HAVING A SPECIFIC SKIN COLOR? WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT THE FUCKING ELECTION WHEN MY FRIENDS ARE BEING DEPORTED SIMPLY BECAUSE THEY WANT TO WORK OR GO TO SCHOOL?! THIS NEEDS TO BE DISCUSSED. THIS NEEDS TO BE RESOLVED.

This leads me to a single conclusion. Because I am not like many of you, I do not hold myself to the same standards. I do not care if I am a hypocrite. Trying not to be one is like trying not to be human. I do not agree to disagree. I have no tolerance for intolerance nor do I pretend that my ultimate goal is to allow you to have your freedom of speech because I have mine. My goals, my hopes, my dreams for this country, for this world, are based on the principles of goodness, of compassion, of humanity. I am not religious, therefore, I do not have to forgive. YOU WILL LOSE. EQUALITY IS HAPPENING WITH OR WITHOUT YOU. A friend of mine tried to explain to me that although she embraced those who have committed the sin of homosexuality, they had no place in God's kingdom. This is clearly ____ man's burden if I e'er did hear it. I ain't got time for that shit. Tolerance is not enough. Acceptance is not enough. Only when all men are created and treated as equal will it be good enough. Good always prevails over evil. This is not a threat, but a promise. If I sound judgmental, it is because I choose to be. You will find no quarter here. Say goodbye to your so called values. This is a declaration of love.

Save the Hammer for the Pham

As I was coming back from Dallas for an AP conference, KUT was ON POINT! The playlist was as follows:

Name Ladysmith Black Mambazo
Song Title How Long
Name of CD Long Walk To freedom
Start Time 2:51:34PM

Name Ladysmith Black Mambazo
Song Title Wenyukela
Name of CD Raise Your Spirit Higher
Start Time 2:57:51PM

Name Dan Dyer
Song Title Love Chains
Name of CD Dan Dyer
Start Time 3:03:55PM

Name Drew Smith
Song Title Nilsson Sings Newman
Name of CD Drew Smith's Lonely Choir
Start Time 3:07:55PM

Name Harry Nilsson
Song Title Living Without You
Name of CD Nilsson Sings Newman
Start Time 3:10:16PM

Name Craig Finn
Song Title Apollo Bay
Name of CD Clear Heart Full Eyes
Start Time 3:13:06PM

Name Bruce Springsteen
Song Title We Take Care of Our Own
Name of CD Wrecking Ball
Start Time 3:21:34PM

Name Tom Morello -The Nightwatchman
Song Title Save the Hammer for the Man
Name of CD World Wide Rebel Songs
Start Time 3:25:15PM
Best line, "Whisper words of freedom"

Name Leonard Cohen
Song Title Show Me the Place
Name of CD Old Ideas
Start Time 3:30:42PM

Name Joe Tex
Song Title Show Me
Name of CD 25 All-Time Greatest Hits
Start Time 3:36:30PM

Like a bold, full-bodied coffee curling its aroma through your nostrils to the back of your tongue. This post would have sucked if all that SOPA/PIPA nonsense had passed. That was a mess. You know what they say, "if you can't do, legislate."

I finished book two of Hunger Games. At the moment, I am Team Peeta/Gale. I am NOT Team Katniss. She's just another girl who makes mistakes and tears through life leaving behind a miasma of discordance and resentment. And the few good men she leaves behind have to clean up after her because she's just so damn conflicted. She's a maturing young lady, mind you, so you're just expected to accommodate her volatile growth as it ravages through your emotional viscera. *exhale* So yes, she's stupid.

I keep promising my students that I will sponsor a Games in my room one day. It would be spectacular! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

After Summer must come Fall

October is never good for me. I come down from my summer high, realize I won't have time for exercise or healthy eating, and count down the days until winter break. My car situation isn't getting any better. They have been working on it for 2 weeks now. Rental car tab is through the roof. Luckily, I just got paid. Allergies are gradually getting worse. My precious 8th period is declining into an uppity mess. And most of all, I'm still angry. October is never good for me.

One positive is that I have reestablished Monday Night Dinners. We have one helluva host home so we might as well make the most of it. Last Monday, Mel, Thomas, Danielle, and I had Hannah, LC, and Buddy over to eat, drink, and watch Paranormal Activity 2. I prepared linguine with a mushroom cream sauce I learned from Lisa, garlic bread, salad, and wine. For dessert, we had leftover birthday cake...there is still some left...4 weeks old? I enjoy the novelty of doing "white" things to get a laugh out of Thomas, so I lead "grace." We joined hands and I thanked everyone for joining us at our home for this meal. The night ended with LC doing her Wicked victory dance. This week, I prepared beef & broccoli, and the roomies sans Danielle were joined by Maggie, Hannah, LC and Dawson. When Dawson arrived, we performed an a capella on the spot rendition of Paula Cole's "I Don't Want to Wait." After dinner on our amazing screened patio, we watched Bridesmaids...or they watched Bridesmaids, and I passed out because of fatigue and wine, as usual. Still, that is one of the funniest movies I have ever seen. We won't be meeting next Monday because Thomas and Mel will be in San Diego, so hopefully, we'll be able to meet Wednesday. I'll have to conjure up a recipe. Somehow, I feel this will eventually evolve into a storytelling gathering like Mel always wanted. As long as there is wine, I don't care what we do.

phuck

LC and I saw this poet named Lacey Roop a while ago. She was fascinating. I loved her because she said these words, but I hated her for saying them. I wanted those words to be mine. Now they seem to belong to me because I know and feel them. I wish I never knew what she meant.

When a girl says kiss me, be careful. She may not know what she is asking. She may not know what she wants. Some girls never do.


Ask her what she wants. Assure her there are no wrong answers.


If she says she needs time give her all your clocks. If its space she wants construct a rocket—send her there. Mean what you say. Girls do not like to be lied to. Mean what you say.


Kiss her but do not expect anything. Girls disdain expectations.


Do not discard her as just another one or mistake her as a wonder carved from the skin of the moon. Girls are special; not unique. They are hair, hide. Teeth, thumb. Bone, brain. Wondrous vessels composed of hellos, heartbeats. Goodbyes, gums. Their bodies shaped like cellos or pears. As unpredictable and powerful as wind or waves. Listen to me my brother when I say “Welcome her crash with caution”.


Tell her you appreciate her entirety, even the rust. Build her a castle with the dust she’s swept under the rug. Undress her ghosts. Tell her, her ghouls are gorgeous. Palm her phantoms. Do not treat her like a problem to solve. You my friend, are not that advanced. She is not a book to be read then placed back on the shelf; a magazine to thumb through, a letter to be opened or sent out, some 44cent stamp. She is not an equation; so do not treat her like a number. Pull her close. Follow her breath. Study it. Listen.
Kiss her like rain. Kiss her like spark. Kiss her like whisper. Go slow. Let her hips guide you. Feel her meaningful. Thrust gentle. Move like you are giving something back instead of taking something from her. Never make her feel like she is an accident—even if you hate her—do not hate her. Accept her misunderstood.


Understand her uncomfortable. Love her awkward. Adore her whole. Respect her being. Embrace her difficult. Cuddle her complexity. Caress her chaos. Hold her honest. Take her broken; lick it perfect. Let her know she has always been a jawdropper. But do not put her on some pedestal, you may like her too much to hurt herself if she falls.


When a girl says kiss me, be careful.


She may not know what she is asking. And you may not anticipate


The haunting you may have when she doesn’t want you
to anymore.

This phase is phamiliar.

School is pwning my life. The past couple weeks, I haven't left work until atleast 7PM. I'm adjusting to a new grading policy, and I'm already behind on interventions and such. I'm not saying I hate it, I'm just saying I need more time. Time has always been my achilles. I'm out of sync with my world, the people in my world, and myself.
Last class, I posted this Stephen Crane poem on the board and told the students to write down a reflection:
A man said to the universe:
"Sir I exist!"
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation."
My point was to get them to acknowledge the overwhelming generation me attitude in the high school world. Everybody is performing, and no one is listening.
Even at my age, I still feel like I'm performing, like the world is my stage, and I'm the protagonist. I imagine I will eventually save the day. I imagine the players in my story will provide me the challenges and support for my role to grow. My major character flaw is placing too much expectation on my players. That sounds lame. It's kind of like saying your greatest weakness is working too hard. No, my major character flaw is hubris. My arrogance is a defense mechanism for when I feel insecure, which is a lot of the time. I'm out of sync. I'm waiting for everyone else to grow up, while they are waiting for me to do the same. I'm so afraid of being an extra in someone else's story. I don't want to be a lesson learned. I don't want to be a minor set back or the moral of the story. I don't want to be a forgotten phase in a sea of faces.
"This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper."

Phailblog part V

One of my colleagues came into my room today to show me a quiz she got back. The quiz was over dimensional analysis which is a simple way of organizing numbers and units in order to carry out multiplication and division. It's spectacular but gets a terrible wrap from lazy, ungrateful children. Anyways, a question on the quiz read, "convert 5 inches to feet." The response to the question read, "12-5 = -7" NEGATIVE SEVEN!! HAHAHA, I laughed soooooo hard. The negative sign was like the little cherry on top that let me know it would be an awesomely highlarious day.
This morning at 9 AM, I had an online assignment due. You guys remember that UT online homework system we used in physics and in college chemistry? Oh yes, I am using it now to torment my minions. Anyways, I gave them 9 days to complete a 30 question assignment. Three students hadn't even registered with the website yet even though I posted instructions on how to do that on my school blog. Everyday, I reminded them that the assignment was open, and I even added on an extra day. They feel like I am abusing them, but shit! The economy is down and China is kicking our asses in math and science. Someone's gotta break them and their generation ME attitudes. MUAHAHA! Honey badger all day errday. Also, I've been giving out asset to class clementines everyday to instill some competitive edge in them. Let the games for my favoritism begin!

Phailblog part IV

I created a teacher facebook separate from my personal facebook account at the end of the previous school year because I kinda missed my annoying students. I don't check it very often but fortunately, I received a notification of a certain event. This year, the school is very aggressive on dress code policy. The students obviously object to this. One of my former students was told on the first day that he could not wear his sleeveless tshirt. I don't care either way, but if this gives me the chance to take some fools down a notch or two, I'm taking it! Anyways, the event I was invited to was titled "Sleeveless/Tank Top Wednesday!" There was about 100 confirmed attendees and the point was to silently rebel against establishment blah blah blah, nothing too impressive in terms of civil rights. My student posted on the wall, "uhh guys, I think I accidently invited Mr. Pham to the event," to which his comrades appropriately responded, "fail," etc.
Instead of snitching on everyone in the group, which I totally would, I would rather them all get in trouble on Wednesday and see how aggressively the faculty and admin would stick my our dress code policy. So I posted on the wall, "I dress like a boss errday, so I never get dress coded. GETONMYLEVEL!" Needless to say, I am very excited to bust some chops on Wednesday.

Phambroiled Whopper!

My flight out of Saigon to Seoul was 5 hours, so I planned on watching about 2.5 movies. They added some newer releases since my last flight so I was a bit excited! FastFive topped the list, and Julia mentioned that action movies were fun for plane rides. Also, I've liked the Rock since my WWF days. IT WAS AWESOME! After that, I watched Hanna, starring Eric Bana, Cate Blanchett, and soixiEOOIEFSDkla girl from lucky bones. It was a bit dull for an action movie about a girl trained to be an assassin. I'm sure Colombiana will be better. Next up was Kung Fu Panda. I fell asleep. The plane landed and I had 5 hours to kill before the next flight. I laid down in the unused terminals and watched Korean television while the clean up crew vacuumed. I listened to some more Moth and TAL reruns. Finally, I hopped on another plane. I started this trip watching Battle Los Angeles, which Julia said was good. I remembered that I already watched this a long time ago, but nothing else intrigued me so I kept it on. Next was Arthur, starring Russell Brand, Helen Mirren, and some girl that might as well have been Zoe Deschanel. I would have glossed over this one had it not been for some article that Russell Brand wrote about the London riots. Anywho, it was a decent comedy. I fell asleep soon after. This plane was super crowded and hot. The old lady next to me kept making noises and elbowed me a couple times. RUDE. The 11 hour flight came to an end. I landed in LAX, spent an hour or two in customs, then ran to the closest Burger King! It was delicious and fatty and greasy and flame-broiled to perfection. AMERICA! 3 hours back to DFW on Thursday at 5 AM, passed out in Arlington, woke up at 3 PM. Jet lag was a b and remained one for the next 5 days.
On Friday, I decided to go back to Austin and surprised Mel and Thomas. When I walked in, Thomas was in his underwear with gloves on and a bottle of blue dye, "this is not as kinky as it looks!" He was dyeing mel's hair again. He told me there was a surprise waiting for me in my room:

That night, we got the group together for some dt fun. Also, Hot Ashlee was in town, and she's totally into me.

The next day, I saw Zilker Summer Musical's Footloose, and it reminded me of how awesome Gia Wright was in MHS's production during her rendition of "Let's hear it for the boy."
The rest of the weekend, I tried to rest, despite my severe jet lag and anxiety about the following work week which meant the end of Summer of Pham...to be continued...

Let me let you go.

I know I was supposed to blog next about the plane ride and my homecoming, but I was just inspired by some bat shit insane neighbors at my bat shit insane apartment complex.
It was 11:15 on a Saturday night. I was watching the 4th installment of The Fast and the Furious marathon. The fourth movie, according to wikipedia, is actually chronologically the 3rd movie, so I watched it after 2Fast2Furious. This marathon was started because I watched the 5th movie on the plane, and to my surprise...I enjoyed it. Hate on me, haters! It's better than Tron. Also, this was the first weekend in a while that I could do absolutely nothing. Mel left for Vegas, and Thomas left for Dallas. Anyways, I was enjoying a nice nap until I was suddenly awakened by knocking and yelling. "Unlock your door!" *knock knock knock* "Unlock your door! I'll keep knocking all night and embarrass you in front of your neighbors." (Oh, please do, crazy lady. I eat this stuff up.) "I'll go around to all the doors and knock until you open your door!!!" (omg, what if she knocks on my door?!) Finally, some guy answered. The guy living upstairs had a couple friends over. I heard a lot of yelling so I shut off the loud air conditioning unit so I could increase my eavesdropping capabilities. Soon the footsteps headed toward the back patio so I hastily followed. I ran into Mel's room for a better vantage point. I could only hear tidbits so my side of the story may not be accurate, but here goes. Apparently, the man living upstairs had been separated from this crazy lady. She was super pissed because she found out that he had been sleeping with some girl named April. The crazy lady was also pissed about 400 dollars he owed her, I believe from a tax return. He had a history of borrowing money from her, and she found out that he used some of that money to pay for dates with this poor April girl. Also, he forgot the crazy lady's bday because according to her, he was "too busy fucking April." I think they have a 13 year old son together.
-OH SHIT I THINK THEY ARE BACK ON THE PATIO, BRB-
Aw man, I think she just left. Her final words, "you wanna fuck with me, I can fuck with you."
OK, so if you think it's amoral to eavesdrop on crazy people arguing, then I am sorry. It's not my fault I live in a shitty apartment with paper thin walls. It's not my fault that crazies like to get loud on balconies. It's not my fault that my life isn't as tumultuous and exciting...well, I guess it is.
Anywho, his car is under her name so she can do whatever she likes! "April doesn't even know we been sleeping together. We've slept together 5 times this month!" Oh poor naive April! He's been hittin up both of them before the divorce is even finalized. SHAME! He tried arguing that she was doing the same thing to him. REBUTTLE!...rebuttle failed. He said that she went on a date with some realtor. She got a text one night while watching TV with her son. It was this guy that her friend introduced her to that was going to show her apartments and houses, but I do believe he wanted to do more than that ;) He said, "when can I meet with you? tonight?" She said, "not tonight" because she thought it was reallllly creepy. Instead she met him the next day to have tea at Starbucks on the patio. She explained to him that she had just gotten out of a "16 year fucked up marriage" and that she had no intention of getting into another relationship. She had only met this man as friends! THIS WAS NOT A DATE! "No one here would say that was a date!" Then she said something about 500 dollar child support, yikes! Then she said, "if I want to drive recklessly and total your car, not my problem." Reminded me of a Mary J. Blige song. Then it got a little Alanis. "YOU FUCKED UP WHEN YOU FUCKED HER!" Finally, it quieted down a little, and I could barely make out any words. "Let me let you go. Stop sucking me back in." Aw! That is such a sweet sentiment. I'm sure that's a song or movie line, but I don't care, it's beautiful. Love makes crazy people do crazy things. I hope they had some crazy breakup/unbreakup sex after that whereby foregoing any intention of letting her let him go. Sad. In closing, I hope I never get divorced because $500 a month in child support for a kid I never get to see is just upsetting.

Murpham's Law, Everything that can go Pham, WILL go Pham!

I left off last time with my trip to Hanoi. Jeebus, I am so behind. OK, so after Hanoi, I went with Cau Nam (Uncle Nam), who is, as my little sister calls him, "Superman," to Ha Long Bay. This place is like one of those wonders of the world that Andrew Zimmern would visit or probably already has. Let's backtrack, we refer to Uncle Nam as Superman because he is probably won of the most intelligent and versatile beings of our time. He is currently working as the Chief of Technology for Vietnam Airlines. He is trying to get a direct flight from US to Vietnam in order. Oh, also, he is working on a project to remove all the agent orange from the ground water and top soil. NBD. Anyways, he pays for the whole trip, and we get on this old boat thing off the coast to get to these awesome islands.


Here is me out-Corona shot-ing all your asses.


Here are the famous islands. Ha Long means "dragon landing."


These two rocks are said to resemble a cock fight.


We also climbed up Yen Tu Mountain. There is a temple at the peak so many people make pilgrimages up there.



Um, did I mention I went parasailing?


In my next entry, I will conclude my trip with the exciting plane ride and my return to ATX!

Good morning Vietpham!

It's 4 AM. My first day back at work starts in 4 hours and I can't sleep. When I try to sleep at night, my body thinks I'm taking a nap and wakes up 2 hours later with a head ache. I hate jet lag. I'll be crashing during the day because I already have a knack for falling asleep during professional development presentations. On the agenda for today is "formative assessment strategies" ZzZzZz. Hopefully, my colleagues will be able to keep me awake with their snarky comments. I have the best coworkers.
I keep having to go back and delete the "extra space" after sentences because Jack the Lawyer informed me that two spaces after a sentence is a "time-honored mistake."
Well, because I can not sleep, I've decided to finish up my Vietnam posts. Last time, I ended on my first night in Hanoi when I went out with David to the discos.

Hanoi is a very interesting city. It is a much more modern metropolitan area than most of Vietnam. The citizens seem to dress much nicer than other parts. The women are beautiful. They are all slender and tall and keep up with the latest fashion trends. The dialect in the north is very difficult for me, a southerner, to understand. Mel's family speaks this dialect. I jokingly refer to it as bourgeois. The men in Hanoi sound like a mix of Orochimaru, Mario Cantone, and Lil Wayne. It's quite flamboyant. Every word spoken seems to begin with a "Z" sound. For example, if a racist such as Thomas ever visited Hanoi, he would pull back his eyes and say "zing zong zing zong."




Okay, so here is a photo of my sister, mother, uncle, and I as we were leaving the airport. You may notice I am as big as a house due to all the food my relatives keep throwing at me.


Later that day, I went fishing with my uncle, and we caught absolutely nothing.


This night was also the night that I went out on the town with Mel's brother David. You can see those pictures in the previous intoxicated post.

The following morning, we went sightseeing. I saw the corpse of Ho Chi Minh at his Mausoleum in the middle of Hanoi. Don't tell my dad that I went here. He'll probably beat me. He's still pretty sensitive about the whole war thing. I dunno, something about the whole being forced to reign hell fire down on his own countrymen really ground his gears.


Here is the pagoda built on a single pillar. It's supposed to be some kind of engineering marvel.


In the center of Hanoi, there are two lakes. In Hoan Kiem, or Lake of the Returned Sword, there lives a 100 year old turtle who is currently very sick. The name of the lake refers to a legend of a king who was given a sword by a giant turtle, and after the king defeated his foes, he returned the sword to the giant turtle.

This much like the King Arthur/Lady of the Lake legend, or the much more famous Lion Turtle/Last Airbender legend. ENERGYBENDER!

Completely Phammered

Early morning in Quang Ngai, my mother, sister and I went up to the roof to behold a....DOUBLE RAINBOW

We tried to explain the significance of this event to our mother to no avail.

I believe we next went to the resting place of my grandfather and his brothers and other phamily. We had to walk through some dense vegetation. All along the way, I hummed "Up to the Mountain" which as you know, will be sung by Mel's daughter at my funeral. My logic for this is because Mel will be too old or dead by that time. Also, I won't have my own daughter sing it because I am not allowed to have daughters. Yes, you are confused but here are my reasons. Daughters get pregnant. Daughters will be able to manipulate me into doing absolutely anything for them. Case in point, look at this hurricane of mischief and tell me how I could possibly tell her no.


anyways, it was very humbling to be near the dead and honoring them with flowers and incense.


The next day...I think...we went to Son My, the memorial of the events of the My Lai massacre. Needless to say, it was incredibly depressing. A massacre benefits absolutely no one. When men and women are thrust into war, they are called upon to do unnatural things such as murder. It's something I can't comprehend.



Later that night, we went to the beach at My Khe. I don't have those pics yet but I'll post them to fb laters. It was beautiful. There was a restaurant right on the beach that would serve us food and beer all night long. The weather is such that if it's late at night and you leave the water, it's still nice and warm.

Some time later, we went to My Son. Speaking of which, my second grandfather...brother of my dearly departed gramps...gave me a vietnamese name, Son, pronounced sung, which means mountain. I am MOUNTAIN! Ah yes, where were we, we went to My Son, which is the land that Vietnamese people invaded which was previously occupied by the Cham civilization. Does this seem awkwardly backwards and predestined??! I kid I kid...

OK, so next, we had to drive to Da Nang where my Uncle Nam lives. There is also an airport there which was method of travel to Hanoi. Anywho, Da Nang is an awesome tourist city with mountains AND beaches. It's beautiful. If I could live anywhere in Vietnam, it would be here with my Uncle and his well educated and cultured family. We took a really long thingy tram thing that goes up to the mountains. at the moment I can't think of the word because...well, i'll explain in a little bit. At the top, there is a resort which would be perfect for a honeymoon(hint hint ladies). There were monkies, and some idiot provoked them and the alpha chased him. Hilar.






Also, here is a giant Buddha which is Vietnam's response to the giant sword in Houston.

NEXT! we stayed at Uncle Nam's place, and after dinner, he took us all to a bar called Seventeen Cowboys. This was a cowboy themed bar which featured a filipino cover band consisting of 3 rocker guys, and 3 scantily clad female vocalists who performed such hits as "What's Goin On?" and "Firework." At the end of the night, the more rock voiced female sang an AC/DC song and I thought she was flirting with me but she was actually looking at my sister, GAY!...literally gay. I was so disappointed at myself.

In the morn, we had to go to the airport to head to Hanoi. My Hanoi uncle took me fishing and on our way out, his motor bike took a tumble on a decline and we fell ove. I was fine but he had a little wound on his knee. O Unk Hai. You can spot me a mile away on that motor bike as I am the only person holding on to dear life in stark contrast to the rest of the lackadaisical denizens of Hanoi.
After dinner, I went out with David Nguyen, Mel's older brother who was teaching English in Hanoi. Funny story, he tried to take me to the Hanoi's location of Seventeen Cowboys but was sorely disappointed that I had been there the night before. Here's us at some bars:


apparently, we got out-Texaned by the bar tender featured above on the sequence of a tequila shot. We were very ashamed.

Which leads me to now. It is 4 am. I am hungover/drunk/sleep deprived. Good night boners.

The Prisoner of Azkapham

My mom booked us a trained ride from Saigon to Quang Ngai in central Nam. Julia and I thought, "awesome, we've always wanted to ride a train, see the country side, eat chocolate frogs." NOPE. When we arrived to the station, we repeated to ourselves, "This is NOT Hogwarts Express, this is NOT Hogwarts Express." It was more like Azkaban on wheels.



It smelled like urine/feces/oldman/uncieOro. OH also, we had to bunk with 1 strange old man who talked in his sleep. Did I mention there was a squat toilet?! Did you see the cot-like seating? How do you expect me to sleep on the fucking Midnight Meat Train?! Instead, I listened to a little more HP audiobook, but that got me sleepy so I switched over to The Moth and TAL reruns. I LOVE my stories. I especially love the sad stories. There is something beautifully humbling about the quiver in a person's voice as their heart breaks, even moreso when that break has never been healed. It sounds the same in every story regardless of the person, good or bad, strong or weak.

After 14 hours of dank dank, the bad kind, we finally arrived to meet my Uncle Hung, his wife, and Uncle Binh's wife. Depending on whether or not they are on your mom's or dad's side, you have to call them different titles. It gets really confusing so I am going to remain very general. They took us to their nice house in the middle of a large field of vegetation. Uncle Hung is a distributor of Nescafe so there were a bunch of trucks. In many Vietnamese homes, the work place is on the first level along with the kitchen, the second level is the living area, and the third level is the prayer room to honor the dead and a roof to dry clothes.

I'm thinking space for a back yard is limited especially in the city so upward expansion is the way to go. Also, restrooms don't have bath tubs. It's just a toilet, next to a shower head and everything is tile. There's a drain in the ground.
Here is a view of the surroundings:



Uncle Hung and his family, the little girl is also referred to as Boo.



During all my meetings, various family members made it appear that my mother has been telling them that I was planning on going back to school. You see, my mother is a very materialistic person. She likes to exaggerate about everything. If she says that we have a cousin who is a lawyer, he is actually taking his LSAT. If we have an uncle who is the CEO of a multibilllion dollar company, he is actually the owner of a grocery store. She has a skewed sense of success and image problems. I believe this is a combination of coming from a successful family in Vietnam to America where my parents found themselves living the life of luxury, and then falling from these unimaginable heights into their current state. The American value of greed has weighed heavily on her and my sisters and I have been chipping away at this for the last couple years as adults. The Pham children are proud people who find solace in the service of others. This has perplexed her. Anyways, my sister and I have had to get crunk on her multiple times this trip. It's especially hard to explain to her that I don't work to make money, I work to make change. No one else can do what I do. This got me thinking about the value of a person's life. If I can change one person's life, that is worth more than any amount of money. Therefore the value of life is priceless. The US took many lives from Africa during the slave trade. There have been many attempts to repay this with money. Unfortunately, many parts of Africa are still impoverished regardless of many many years of monetary help. Money can't help anyone if love and education are not offered as well. The value of a human life can never be understood if you've never truly helped someone. This is why I do this MOM!!! Well, she'll be fine in the end. My sisters and I will fix her back up before the white light takes her. Anyways, teaching is what I'm supposed to be doing. It's what I was meant to do. That sounds awfully religious of me, but lately, I've been kind of obsessed with faith, the Dalai Lama, Tong Lin, and nature of mind because of the Moth and speaking with mah besties. Go check out Jack Hannibal on the Moth.

OH, one thing that I'll def be taking away from this experience is this awesome bedding!

It's like a yoga mat, but it has larger segments that are polished or something. It's surprisingly comfortable because it remains cool at all times and conforms to your body in a way that doesn't ruin your back. I want it on mah bed!! It's definitely a halfway point between a mattress and THIS:

When I first saw this, I thought it was a low-standing dining room table or a queen-sized bench. One morning, I saw Uncle Huy sleeping on it. CRAZY. I just don't get it. Does he know how awesome a mattress feels?! Also, how does one make love on a slab of wood? Surely, you'd break a patella or two.

Today, I'm headed for shopping and eating in DaNang, some touristy spot in central Nam. A couple days after that, I'm getting on a plane to Hanoi. Hopefully, I'll be able to meet up with Mel's brother David up there. (There's mel's one shout out this post. Why is she my life?)
I will leave you with this last photo of the Pham talkin bout politics and conflict in the South China Sea regarding OIL!! Different country, same problems.

Phamerican Phairlines

No, I didn't not fly American, I flew Korean Air. The plane was quite comfy, and the flight attendants all looked exactly alike. Every sentence ended with "-nida." Adorbz. I wanted to give them all fans and have them giggle behind them in unison at all my jokes. I started the flight by reading the final two Astonishing X-Men graphic novels written by Whedon and penciled by Cassaday. I'll probably read the next two even though they are written by someone else. After that, I commenced a movie marathon.
1. I am Number Four. This was surprisingly captivating, mostly due to Quinn Fabray playing the female lead. I would recommend it if you are flying soon.
2. Blue Valentine. This was a beautifully told story about birth, growth, and death of a relationship between Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams. I would definitely recommend this movie except not on a plane with little children running around. There is quite a bit of nudity and sexuality. HOT.
3. Country Strong. Yuck. This was the most convoluted story ever. It was like Inception except with bad acting, writing, directing, etc. Yuck.
4. Rango. I fell asleep. Also, I wish it were A Bug's Life.
5. Tarzan. Phil Collins duh.

After the 1000 hours of flight, I finally landed in Saigon where I was picked up by my mother, her cousin Cuong, and his driver. Apparently her uncle is a big deal in international shipping and they have a fortress in the middle of Saigon. It's pretty nice relative to the rest of the city.
Here is my room:


Look at this cute little girl. We refer to her as Boo.


After this short visit, we went to my dad's uncle's house. We ate balut, one of mel's favorite dishes. AKA boiled duck fetus, yum!

Later that day, we went over to my mom's sister's house where I finally met G-mama Pham. Well, that's not really her name, nor is it gangee, meemaw, or gran gran.
Here she is with some of the kids:


For dinner, we ate chicken, rice porridge, grilled venison, and some ginger pork. All incredibly fresh and delish.

I went to bed and woke up in the middle of the night with this climbing on my neck...so I killed it. Come at me, bro.


At around 5 AM, a rooster crowed. I'm convinced it was Chanticleer from Rock-a-Doodle-Doo.

I hopped on a motorbike, popularly known in Vietnam as Xe Honda (vehicle Honda) with my Uncle Huy who took me, my sister, and our cousin to a coffee shop to have ca fe. Unfortunately, nobody was there who could translate so I was forced to use Vietnamese. I was pretty amazing. My uncle is a math teacher at the local high school. In his home, there was even a chalk board with some derivatives. He also grows these special flowering trees that are used mostly during Tet time. He sells them for about 1G each or rents them out. My Vietnamese got a little better so watch out Mel, no more English in our home. You're judgmental mother will be so proud the next time I see her. After coffee, he took me to buy some tizight loafers, and then we went to Pho 24. It's supposedly the most popular pho place in Nam. The beef was super fresh, the tripe was exceptional, and the rice noodles were much thicker than in the States. We did some more shopping after that and more coffeeing. When we got back to the house, my aunt already had a meal prepared for us. More of Mel's favorites:


Back to those Xe Hondas, that shizzz is crazy. Traffic laws...seem not to exist. Driving into oncoming traffic happens...a lot...and nobody seems to care. One important thing I noticed was that honking was a sign of safety as opposed to an act of aggression as in America. Which would bring me to a deeper, inciteful observation, but I can't get into that now cuz my sister reallly wants to email her bf.

JP OUT.