Happy birthday to me

Last week I celebrated my 21st birthday and much to my chagrin, there was no binge drinking or bar hopping, but it worked out nonetheless.

Strawberry shortcake from Bijan's, my favorite bakery in San Jose


That's me

Happy birthday wishes came early this year as my friends in Singapore sent theirs 15 hours ahead of time.  It was a nice touch and a great reminder of how far I have come in just a year.  However, despite it being my birthday, I still had to drag myself to work extremely sleep deprived.  I contemplated working at home but decided against it, a good decision resulting in my boss buying me my first legal drink.  On top of that, my first drink was a blank and tan (half Guinness and half pale ale, they form two distinct layers in the glass!), something I had never had or even heard of before.  Then my boss bought me an Irish car bomb (a mixed shot of Bailey's and whiskey, dropped into half a pint of Guinness) which officially signaled the end of the work day.

Back on the train, I had hoped to party with those strangers but that did not happen when I could not find the one person I knew in the group.  I was a bit disappointed, but I already had my drink of the day from my boss so it did not matter too much.


At home, it was dinner with the family and afterwards, cake with a few old high school friends.  They surprised me by getting me a bottle of Johnny Walker gold label, which I promptly made them all sign (another blast from the past moment).  After cake, the drinking started, and even my sister and dad got into it a little.  My dad even pulled out a bottle of Hennessy  XO  out of nowhere, a big surprise because I had thought I had finished all the hard liquor in the house a long time ago.


I swear my mom almost cried asking me to take a picture with the family

The conversation frequently came back to our high school days and all the stupid things we did, though most of the stories seemed to revolve around me.  It was a good reminder how much I had grown.  No longer duct taping or throwing people's backpacks in the mud, or asking someone out with a bowl of goldfish crackers.  I can definitely say that I have changed a lot and even for the better.  Compared to my high school self, I am much nicer, understanding and all around more mature.  This is of course to be expected, however, I still marvel at how much I have changed.

Lighting candles has a particular allure for some people


Only one good high school friend was missing that night

This birthday had even more significance because it marks my last year in college.  It could very well be the last birthday that I spend at home or even with these same friends.  This party closes one chapter of my life and I can already feel a new one opening up.

-muffinman

Parents: Got to stop listening to them

Last summer while I was in LA doing my internship, I heard John Kobara tell me and my fellow interns to stop listening to our parents and he gave us a few pointers on how to get them off our backs to boot.  After that meeting, I joked to my fellow intern Monica that I was already on the right track because I never listened to my parents. 

As kids, we were always told that we were young and should listen to our parents because they knew better due to their experience.  Of course, this applied doubly since I was Asian.  Do get me wrong, this is great advice when you are say 12 but I realize now it is no longer naïve to think that I know more than my parents.  It is not arrogance that has led me to say this, but rather something that I have concluded after listening to “guidance” from my parents that was either inconsistent with the times or simply out of their area of expertise.   

I have always had a hearing impediment to my parents’ advice, but it was not until my winter quarter in sophomore year in college that I made a conscious effort to divorce myself from my parents’ guidance.  That was the year that I decided to completely drop my Economics double major because it was making me miserable.  I had taken up the additional major due to my mom essentially telling me that with my Anthropology degree I would graduate with no job prospects (little does she know Economics also does not offer a skill set that employers are looking for).  It was at that point that I realized my parents did not know what was best for me. 

So what is the problem? I already decided I was no longer under parents’ influence, case closed right?  Well, not exactly, because later that sophomore year, I made a commitment to reconnect with my family, I have been finding myself straying from my independent thinking that has served me so well.  As a sort of good will gesture, I have started placing weight into the advice that they give me, which in turn has caused me doubt myself.  This became a real problem during my search for summer internships.

I turned to my dad to help me find an internship, due to the fact that I was in Shanghai at the time.  Everything appeared to be going well, my mom told me that he was sending my resume out and getting responses and assurances.  My mom told me not to worry and that for sure they would find me something.  My skepticism increased dramatically when my dad got back to me with jobs that were extremely technical and seemingly as far from the marketing department as possible.  In the end, the whole finding me an internship through connections turned out to be a flop, leaving me scrambling to find something, anything that I could add to my resume.

The trouble continued once I got my first interview at a startup.  My dad scoffed after the interview when I told him that if I got $10 an hour I would be happy.  He told me I was silly to expect that kind of money since interns at VMWare and Cisco were making around $25 an hour and that the startup’s pay had to be competitive to that.  I am not sure why I trusted him at that point about the pay, because it certainly made no sense!  Why would I expect a multibillion dollar company to pay at the same rate as a startup with just $50,000 in seed funding? When the offer came and it was $10 an hour like I had expected, my dad did not say anything, perhaps he realized the folly of his reasoning. 

My interview with the startup that gave me the offer went very well.  I really enjoyed talking to the founders and had a strong hunch that we would work well together.  I had another interview scheduled, but in reality I had made up my mind.  The other startup interviewing me would have had to be beyond amazing to even get me considering to join them.  In essence, my heart was pretty much set on where I wanted to be for the summer, there was just this feeling that the first startup was where I needed to be. 

When I told my parents this, they panicked.  They told me to not rush the decision and wait for the other interview (something I was going to do anyway) and for the second time I listened to them.  I started doubting my own hunch about where I should be and began wondering if I was being a fool who was rushing in.  The second interview came and it was a disaster, the founder was cold and generally gave off this attitude that she did not give a shit whether I came onboard or not.  Immediately when the second interview ended, I wanted to call up the first startup and tell them “I ACCEPT!” However, my parent’s words about caution and thinking things through started creeping in from the back of my mind.  Once again, I was doubting my own judgment and hesitating on what I felt was the right course of action.

In my doubt came anger and then shame.  I felt that I was betraying myself by not following my own intuition which has served me so well for so long.  I had always blazed my own path and marched to the tune of my own drummer, yet here I was making the most important decision of possibly the year and doubting myself because of my parents.  A shameful moment indeed.   

After this epiphany, I picked up the phone, dialed my mom and told her I was going to accept the offer the next day.  She tried to tell me not to rush the decision, but I was having none of it, my mind was made up.  My choice, once again ended up being the correct one as I am currently having the best internship experience of my life. 

Morale of the story? Understand that being close to your family does not mean that you have to listen to them.

-muffinman

Attending a BBoy Competition

The same week that I came back, my friend Vicki invited me to a BBoy competition. I started to going to competitions with her back during my freshman summer or perhaps it was the senior summer of high school?  It definitely felt cool to be going to competitions even if I did not dance or know what was going on.  Just being at a competition made me feel like I was part of something that few people knew about and even fewer attended.

Fast forward, a couple of years and I have been bugging Vicki to take me to another competition because I have not been to one since my freshman year.  Sadly, even though I had been hearing so much about Vicki's competition successes, I was not going to be able to see it because she was not competing this tournament.  Nonetheless it was good to break out of the usual and go see a bunch of talented bboys and girls.  

This is mostly a picture post:

Vicki's friend Ian who was really good. Baffling that he did not make it past the first elimination round.

My friend Vicki who did not compete but still entered the cyphers, which are informal exhibition performances where anyone can go into the circle do a few moves, jump back out and someone else takes their place.

There is a huge attitude and taunting culture to bboying. Sometimes tensions will run high and fights will break out but most of the time it is just playful teasing.  

Part of the taunting is trying to get as close to the opponent as possible without touching them. However, as you can see that does not always work out.

Just a cool picture

These two teams were in my opinion the most impressive in the competition.  Vicki tells me that the guy on the floor competes internationally.  

-muffinman

Last Lesson in China

During my year in Shanghai, I had accumulated a decent amount of change because I just never got used to the idea of using of change to buy stuff.  All of my change was collected in a cut in half water bottle.  When I left, I think I had maybe 100RMB in change in that bottle and with no exchange it or pack it in my bag I elected to leave it in my room, hoping that whoever took possession of the change would put it to good use.  Little did I know that this was going to happen within the hour.    

The man who came up with me to check my apartment for damages must have felt extremely lucky once he saw the large amount of things that my roommates and I were leaving behind.  He entered my room and started pointing at various items, asking me if I was sure about leaving it behind.  When I said yes to my bottle of change and asked him if he wanted it, he said yes and started grabbing large handfuls of change and putting it in his pocket.  After a few handfuls, I told him that he could take the whole thing, bottle and all but he refused and told me that it would look bad.  I could not help but smile as I walked out of the room and let him finish stuffing his pockets with change. 

Not quite sure how the man thought walking around jingling on each step was going to keep him from losing face.  He even took a pair of shoes as well and hid those in the stairwell before the elevator came up, presumably so that he could get them later when nobody was looking.

So twas on my last day in China that I was taught through example that life is all about face.

-muffinman