Why Are Guys Such A Pain In The Ass?

I don't write about my romantic adventures too much for a variety of reasons. First, my romantic life is virtually non-existent. I, long ago, got really fed up with the game-playing, the second guessing of everything about me and that I could possibly offer, and the plethora of losers out there. This experience didn't help either.

The second reason is that I just got got really tired of talking about it and thinking about it and obsessing about it. I even got tired of talking with my single friends about how they're single and looking for that special guy or girl. I just made a conscious decision to stop thinking about it and do the things I enjoy and enjoy them as much as I can--cook, work out, travel, play tennis, etc.

As all my readers know, I had been talking for a while with this British guy. We got on well, engaged in lots of innocent flirting and always had a lot to talk about. Things seemed to be going well. We liked each other a lot. He was creeping into my head more and more each day. So everything seemed rosy, and I have to admit that I was starting to get those funny feelings whenever I thought about him. But there were some warning signs, which I chose to ignore, perhaps because I liked him too much, or maybe because I under-estimated how much I liked this guy. I kept telling myself that this really wasn't a good idea because he lives in another city, had some "being out" issues, and seemed married to his job, which served as excuses for him being less considerate than what I would say is standard.

For example, one time we were talking on the phone, and his phone just cut off all of a sudden. I was like, "WTF?" I tried calling him back, but his phone went straight to voicemail. I gave up after a couple more tries, and just went to bed. I kind of expected an explanation the next day. Well, actually I was expecting an email or an IM that night, but I didn't hear from him until four fucking days later, and he didn't even mention it. Now, if I were talking with someone, and my phone cut off, I would be mortified, and would explain right way somehow and some way.--like send a short email saying my phone died or something like that. My British friend didn't provide any of that, and didn't even acknowledge it, and finally I asked, and he said something about his phone battery running out. Huh? Why can't you just plug in your phone?

This week, though, he got his final strike. My British friend was in New York yesterday. We had talked on Friday about his upcoming visit and talked about making some plans--dinner or something. I didn't hear from him for the rest of the weekend. Then on Tuesday, I IM'ed him, and no answer. I called him, and left a voicemail. No return call. I sent an email, saying "Hey, did you make it to New York?" No reply.

Now I know he was in New York, and I know that he was around when I IM'ed him because of his changing "status" on my IM client. I'm no James Bond, but I can figure that out.

I fucking HATE when a guy tries to put on a disappearing act and completely leave you high and dry and ignores you, without giving any sort indication of where he stands. It ANNOYS THE SHIT OUT OF ME. If you're old enough to date, you're old enough to tell a guy "No thanks." Don't put the burden on me to figure out how you feel.

I'm really disappointed. I mean I wasn't like head-over-heels in love with him, even at the time when I wrote my funny post about my seducing tactics. I was trying to be pragmatic, realist, level-headed and all those sorts of things. But this whole experience just makes me bitter about guys in general...again.

Tuesday Groove

Here's another groove for a Tuesday. This is a performance of one of my favorite songs. And I am not ashamed to say that it's sung by two little girls (and it's from the the Pokemon soundtrack!), one of whom looks like a cocker spaniel in this video.

Anyhow, like most of my favorite songs, this one has a story for me. When I first started working at the law firm, after I first moved to New York, my late nights and 70 hour weeks started almost immediately. Our caseroom always had the radio on and I kept hearing this song. This song kept me company during those late nights.

But to this day during my constant battles with insomnia (oh it's so much fun getting nine hours of sleep over six days), I still turn to the girls of M2M.

Direct From Switzerland

A year ago when I was in Zurich, I stayed at a pretty nice hotel. And when I left, I took one of the water glasses because I loved them so much. I really liked them because they were really wide, and thus held a lot of volume, but not too tall, making them easy to clean.

I've been needing some new cups because for some reason, in the past two weeks, I have been breaking cups left and right. I don't know what is wrong with me, but I either keep dropping them or dropping something else on to them. And I am now down to only one water glass.

I remembered those cups in Zurich and sent an email to the Park Hyatt Zurich. The kind Purchasing Manager of the hotel replied back with this:

Dear Terence Cho

Many thanks for your Email. Please apologize the delay in reply as I was on vacation for a week.

The water glasses in our hotel rooms are made by SCHOTT ZWIESEL and the complete reference is:

Whiskybecher / Old Fashioned Iceberg
Ref. 652360

I attached a photo for illustration.

Hope this information is helpful for you.

Best regards,

[Name Omitted]
Purchasing Manager

PARK HYATT ZURICH
Beethoven - Strasse 21
8002 Zürich, Switzerland

Let me tell you. This made my day. Finding these special Swiss water glass makes me feel like my life is so rich and full of purpose.

TCho The Wine Guy

I've been buying a lot of wine lately, like bottles at a time. I took a wine class recently, which is one reason for my wine buying spree. Another reason has been that my British friend and I talk a lot about wines, particularly French wines.

Last weekend, I was at Bacchus, a store which I'm a bit ashamed to say that I really like. The whole idea behind Bacchus is "Wines made simple." And to this day, I'm still traumatized by this wine snob who railed at me for liking this store, telling me that stores like that "dumb" down wine and doesn't respect the art of wine-making and tasting. Well, screw her. I'm not a training to be a Sommelier. I like a store like Bacchus where I feel I could pick any bottle in the store, and really enjoy it.

So last Sunday, I was buying a few bottles. While I was paying, the wine store lady had to take a phone call. It turned out to be a delivery order, and I could tell the lady was annoyed because the store was closing in 15 minutes. I heard her say "68th & Riverside", and my Scooby ears went "huuuuuuuhm!" That's two blocks from my apartment! As I was signing my credit card slip, I joked, "I could drop it off on my way home." To my surprise, the woman replied, "Seriously?!?! You'll get a tip!"

So I embraced my Asian heritage last weekend by making a delivery. I got a $4 tip from it all. Not bad for walking a couple blocks out of my way. I assume the reason the wine store lady was so confident in my ability to handle the job was that I clearly look the part. But there was no tension on my part. If Crash taught me anything it’s that freeing a van full of Asian immigrants into Chinatown at Christmas time instead of selling them on the black market is what helping your fellow man is all about.

It Was A Bravo Kind Of Day

Yesterday, I saw Goil from Top Design asking some woman for directions. He looked exactly the same as he did on TV. In fact, I think he might have been wearing those same clothes on an episode. I don't know where he was headed. My guess is to go spaz out over another giant towel rack or another dog bed on wheels.




Then for dinner, I went with a friend from college to Perilla, Season 1 Top Chef Harold Dieterle's new restaurant. It was one of the better meals I've had in a while. Everything was so yummy. The standouts for me were the Duck Meatballs, the Farro Risotto and the namesake Perilla Frozen Yogurt. If I had one criticism, I'd have to say that he could have done some more work on the interior design. It honestly looked like he ran out of money and started looking for the cheapest shit he could find.





Towards the end of dinner, I saw Andy Cohen, Vice President of Bravo Programming eating dinner, who I think is so adorable and who must have the best job on the planet.

I feel so ordinary.

Today's Stupid Moment, Sponsored By MIT

I was at the gym tonight, sitting on a bench in the weights area. I looked up in the mirror and saw this guy behind me wearing a t-shirt that said "TIM" in big block college-logo type lettering. I was thinking, "What school is called TIM? Or is that his name?"

Then I turned around. His t-shirt said "MIT". I forgot I was looking in a mirror.

And the guy wasn't even hot enough to be worth hitting on with that cute story.

From My Boring Vacation Posts To My Last Idol Post

It's a well known fact that no one likes to hear uninteresting stories about other people's vacations. It's like starting off every sentence, "Hey, remember the time you weren't there and..."

So I think I bored everyone here enough about my adventures out in Arizona. To sum up my trip, I spent the rest of the week in Scottsdale, playing tennis and enjoying my hotel with its own man-made beach and romantic gondola rides in the golf course lagoons. I honestly don't know how Scottsdale can support all of the fountains, Vegas style hotels and water parks, since it rains like twice a year there.

I also got to be in Arizona at the same time Jordin Sparks got crowned America's Idol. I was literally in the next town over from Jordin's hometown, and I felt like an adopted Arizonan since I love American Idol, and I must have subliminally predicted that Jordin would win so I could be in her home state at the same time as her coronation. Throughout this season, Jordin really never stood out to me that much, but despite my best intentions, I am extremely embarrassed to reveal that I loved her performance of that wretched "This Is My Now" song. I also enjoyed watching the finale, especially such priceless moments as

- The return of Little Miss Sobshine crying like a retard.

- Gina almost falling on her way back to the stage during "With A Little Help From My Friends."

- Kelly Clarkson pissed off at the world.

- Smokey Robinson looking really nasty and scary, like plastic scary.

- Clive Davis reminding us about ten times how Taylor Hicks has done shit for album sales.

- Bette Midler looking like a complete fool while adjusting her mic DURING her performance on the little remote thing clipped to that way too short leather mini skirt.

- All of Brangelina's kids coming out to sing and making me smile.

- Gladys Knight singing with all the female finalists but really only paying attention to Melinda and Lakisha. How much do you wanna bet that Miss Gladys declared, "Only Melinda and Lakisha can stand within 3 feet of me"?

Idol's over now. What am I gonna write about now?

Sorry To Leave You Hanging...

Been really busy with work this week. Although today, I told a co-worker I was busy and would have to get back to him when the real reason was that my Froot Loops were getting soggy.

Be back soon.

Bridge To Bawl-A-Bithia

On the plane ride home from Phoenix, the in-flight movie was Bridge To Terabithia. I had read this book as a kid, but I didn't really remember much about it. And I certainly did not remember tearing my eyes out at the story. Seriously, the flight attendants should have handed out Kleenex before the movie started.

(WARNING: If you do not want to know what happens in the movie, stop here.)

The movie is actually kind of sad throughout the entire duration with all the family and bullying issues, but you don't worry too much because the kids are having a good time in their imaginary kingdom. As all sorts of good feelings wash over you, you begin to see Jess and Leslie as grade school sweethearts and marrying someday.

And then...WHAM! You're feeling all good because Jess spent the day at the museum, and then all of a sudden he gets back, and Leslie is dead. WAIT A MINUTE! BACK UP! Jess's future wife is dead!?!?

Oh I was bawling, especially at the part when the teacher talks to Jess and the part when Jess starts crying because he think it's his fault. I had completely forgotten about the ending and was in total shock. I was blowing my nose and totally mortified that I was crying my eyes out in the middle of the plane. At least I was alone because I would have died if anyone I knew had seen me crying like a pansy.

This Ain't Mexico

In terms of eating options around the Grand Canyon, your choices are pretty limited. Inside the Park, you can eat at the El Tovar Lodge, but you have to be in the mood for an over-priced sit down meal to enjoy it. There are also two cafeteries in the Park at Maswik and Yavapai Lodges where you can enjoy institutionalized classics like dry Salisbury Steak, overcooked Spaghetti and Tomato Sauce, watery Chicken Pot Pies, and the Mystery Meat special of the day. You're really better off picking up something in Tusayan or Williams, AZ and bringing it with you into the park.

After my day of hiking the Canyon, I was famished. I stopped by Wendy's in Tusayan. For some reason, Wendy's is always exotic to me. Maybe because the first time I went to Wendy's was when I was in my 20s. We had one or two growing up in Virginia, but they were located in the most inconvenient places, not close to any easy turns. And right now I don't live near any here in New York. This one in Tusayan was also extra exotic because it was all run by Native Americans, not that this Wendy's was in a teepee or anything.

At any rate, I got my dinner, and sat down to eat. A couple came soon after and sat at a table near me. The wife asked the husband what he wanted:

Wife: So what do you want?

Husband (not really paying attention): Oh. I guess, Nachos.

Wife: Nachos????? They don't have Nachos here. Hmmpf.

I wish I could have captured the wife's LOOK of indignation and scoff. It was a look that simultaneously made her husband feel like he was 5, and demonstrated her clear expertise in Wendy's menu.

To the husband's credit, I do think Wendy's had a Mexican burger at some point. Of course that might mean it's just a regular burger made by a Mexican.

Don't Fall In!

The Grand Canyon is pretty amazing. Everything you've heard is true. Seeing it for the first time is truly an experience you'll never forget. No matter how you prepare yourself, it's more vast and more massive than you could possibly imagine. I saw a sign that said "it's the canyon that all other canyons want to be." Well, I didn't know canyons could be so superficial. But it doesn't have to worry. The Grand Canyon is so incredible; it almost looks unreal, like a painting almost.

I actually decided not to do the Skywalk. It was getting really bad reviews for the silly $75 packages you had to buy to walk on it, the fact that the Indians won't let you take pictures, and the relative remoteness and lack of infrastructure yet to be completed around the Skywalk.
So I stuck with the South Rim.

My day started by stopping by the National Geographic Visitor's Center in Tusayan, about 20 miles south of the South Rim. I got in the mood by buying some souvenirs including John Wesley Powell's The Exploration of the Colorado And Its Canyons, which goes against the usual trashy novels that I read. But I felt very inspired by the Canyon to be this country's next great explorer, even though I actually hadn't seen it yet because I was too busy buying souvenirs and watching the IMAX movie. I began to be afraid that I'd be the first person to go to the Canyon without actually seeing it.

Soon enough, I left the visitor's center and headed towards the Canyon. It was surprisingly pretty cold that day; in the low 60s or so, and it was raining off and on. I cursed myself for not buying that National Geographic Grand Canyon vest that I saw at the Visitor's Center.

I was actually starting to think that maybe the Canyon was overrated, and was starting to doubt my wisdom in driving all this way. But that changed upon my first glimpse when I got out of the car. If it had been a reality series, this segment would have sounded something like:

Host: "And here's the Canyon!"

Me: "Holy [bleep]. Are you [bleeep] kidding me?"

Host: "And it's over a mile deep!"

Me: "Get the [bleep] out of here. This is [bleeeep] awesome!"

To explore, I decided to hike down South Kaibab Trail because there's a plateau at about the middle of the trail that gives a nice panoramic view. The hike down is fine, a bit steep and scary in some parts, but nothing too bad. I passed by some interesting folks coming back up, including a family whose Dad was clearly hell-bent on providing the best damn holiday for his family. The rest of the family looked tired and not nearly as enthusiastic as their fearless leader. I also saw some absolute idiots hiking in Birkenstocks and not carrying a single bottle of water. The hike back up is HARD. OMG. It feels like an endless Stairmaster. There is no way you could go to the bottom and back up to the top in the same day.

I made it to the plateau in about 45 min, and of course the view was amazing, humbling, vast, and any other superlative you can think of. Seriously, the Canyon is no joke. I don't think there's any adjective in the English language that would exaggerate the immensity of it.

So of course I had to take a picture. I saw a couple resting and asked the guy, who was this bumbling German guy, to take my picture. I decided on a place and adjusted the camera settings and gave him my camera. He took a picture and offered to take another one. That's when the lens closed and retreated back in. Hmmmm. I took the camera and pressed the "On" button. Nothing. I realized the battery had RAN OUT!

So here's the one picture I took. I was not having a good hair day:

A Swift Kick To The Groin

Well this is the feeling I was left with after my day at Sedona.

On my first day in Arizona, I drove through Sedona on my way to Flagstaff. I wasn't sure what I was going to do there, but I at least wanted to see the famous Red Rocks. Also, supposedly Sedona is one of the world's metaphysical centers, with lots of powerful vortexes and holy energized spots. I wasn't sure what kind of energy I was supposed to feel, but I'm not the type to believe in that type of stuff anyway.

The Red Rocks of Sedona are pretty spectacular. It was so different than anything I had ever seen before. But after a while, the scenery gets to be kind of "ok, how many red rocks can I look at before being bored out of my mind?" You really have to do something like hike around or take a jeep tour. In my case, I opted for an afternoon of mountain biking. I'll admit, I was a bit hesitant because I hadn't been on a bike in a few years and had only gone serious mountain biking once before. But I just went for it and had a good and very sweaty time.

So after renting a bike and deciding which route I should take with the shop owner, I headed out with my 30 year old bad self, hitting the trails as if I had a lot of anger to let out, which I didn't really.

I was on the "Broken Arrow Trail" which was described to me as an intermediate trail. In retrospect, I should have picked an easier trail, but this one was the closest to the shop, and I didn't want to have to commute that far.

I was having a pretty good time. The first part kicked my ass because it was pretty much a series of uphills the entire time. But soon it leveled out and was a mix of short uphills and downhills. I was taking jumps, but pretty slowly, so picture a much more lame image in your head than it sounds.

On one part of the trail was a pretty steep and long downhill section. I had been biking for a while and was gaining my confidence. I started my descent and began to pick up speed, much more quickly than I really wanted to. But I didn't want to stop. I bent my knees and elbows, focused on my path, and got off my seat a bit to brace myself.

I had made a mistake and didn't quite realize the amount of huge rocks down the hill. They might as well have been boulders, and I realized I'd have to stop. I press the breaks hard, and BAM! I was in the air for a split second, but it might as well have been 10 minutes. I stopped right in front of a rock and it came up fast. While I was in the air, my legs kind of compressed from the weight of my body, and that's about the exact time I land. Boom! Let's just say that at the moment, the "junk" in my groin area were not ideally positioned for the landing.

I hit my groin HARD! I landed right against the center bar of my bike connecting my seat to the handle bars. Oh my fucking god. I thought I was going to black out. My bike tumbled and I was rolling on the ground. Holy crap. Was I in pain!

After a few minutes, I finally got back on my bike and rode some more and walked a lot more. I was pretty parched too, similar to how I felt a couple years ago in this post. Biking in that altitude was really a lot to handle.

The end result of all this? Scrapes, bloody legs and huge ass bruise on my inner left thigh. But at least I didn't do any more serious damage.

Woke Up In A Bad Mood

I'm headed back to NY now. I've had a pretty good time in Scottsdale and the rest of Arizona, which I'll write about soon. But right now, I'm in a pissy mood, because I had another totally pathetic, passive-aggressive talk with that guy again. At least these days, it doesn't make me sad anymore. I just get pissed off for wasting my time.

Anyhow, I'll be back in NY soon and catching up on my blogroll and updating my own blog here. I've enjoyed Arizona, but I'm glad to be on my way home.

I Ran Through The Desert On A Horse With No Name

I'm in Arizona right now! Haven't had a chance to blog yet. But i'll try soon! Check back in a few days to hear more about how TCho injured his groin mountain biking in the Red Rocks of Sedona, trekked half-way down to the Grand Canyon and found out his camera had a dead battery, and had an adventure at the Wendy's owned by Indians. And I've only been here for two days!

American Idol/Top 4: Sorry No Idol Update

I just got my new driver's license, and I'm way too upset about my new picture to write an American Idol update for last week's Barry Gibb night. I look so fat in my picture.

Nah, in truth, everyone was mediocre at best, and it wasn't worth it to write a review. Worst had to have been Barry Gibb himself. The poor guy wheezed his way through the same song that Jordin sang the night before. I really wish it had been disco night instead of Barry Gibb night. I think most of the Bee Gees's songs are one-shot deals, and really can only be sung once, at least sung well.

Anyway, I voted for Melinda. Hope tonight is better.

Birthday Post #04: Hey, Did You Know It's My Birthday? Because It Is.

So did I mention that it's my birthday? I just hope everyone knew it was coming up, because I don't remember if I mentioned it here or not. Just making sure.

Surprisingly, I do have a bit of a birthday buzz, when I haven't cared in any other previous year that I remember. Maybe because I was very flattered by all the birthday comments on my blog. To increase my buzz, I learned from the Farmer's Almanac that today is a red-letter day. Check out the birthday lore on the link. I'm much too modest to post it here.

And courtesy of the The History Channel, here are a few events that took place on the day of my birthday.

In 1804, one year after the United States doubled its territory with the Louisiana Purchase, the Lewis and Clark expedition left St. Louis, Missouri, on a mission to explore the Northwest from the Mississippi River to the Pacific Ocean. The Indians must still be kicking themselves today.

In 1904, the Third Olympiad of the modern era, and the first Olympic Games to be held in the United States, opened in St. Louis, Missouri. When I was little, I wanted to win an Olympic Gold medal...and an Oscar...and a Nobel Prize...and a Grammy.

In 1948, Jewish Agency Chairman David Ben-Gurion proclaimed the State of Israel, establishing the first Jewish state in 2,000 years. I always think of Charlton Heston, when I hear this guy's name.

In 1960, Mickey Thompson, a.k.a. "Mr. Speed," broke Bernd Rosemeyer's 22-year-old record for the standing mile and standing kilometer. Hmmm, when I heard "Mr. Speed", I thought of this instead of driving. Shows where my mind is at.

In 1948, a brutal murder began an unusual investigation. OOOOOOOK.

In 1991, Seinfeld aired its final premiere episode on this day in 1998. I loved this show when it was on, but why does the humor seem so dated now?

In 1861, William Fetterman, who later led 80 of his soldiers to their deaths at the hands of the Sioux, joined the Union Army. A story for every festive occasion.

In 1973, Skylab, America's first space station, was successfully launched into an orbit around the earth. And then it came crashing down five years later. Ouch.

In 1944, filmmaker George Lucas was born on this day in 1944 in Modesto, California. Good job George on the first three. Eh on the last three.

Back tomorrow with more silly observations from TCho's World.

Birthday Post #03: A Present for Moi? You Shouldn't Have

One day and counting. Contact me here for details on where presents can be sent.

THINGS I DO NOT WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY

A Star

What moron thought of this as a gift? This has got to be the cheesiest gift ever created. I'm not trying to be an asshole; I get how it's sweet and sentimental and eternal and all that, but really - you name a star after a loved one and that star is billions of light years away and probably not even perceptible 90% of the year and will never, ever come into play in any aspect of life ever again. I don't even understand how they're even official. I seriously doubt an astronomer would ever say "I'm seeing some real activity from Terence Cho," or "Take a look at that star over by Terence Cho."

Mrs. Fields Cookie Of The Month

I suppose it's good that I have a cookie habit as opposed to a crack habit. But the last thing I need is to have cookies tempting me everytime I need a snack.


Any Sort Of Stuffed Animal

Not that I have any friends who still think they're 8, but I have never been into any sort of plush doll.








THINGS I WOULD LIKE FOR MY BIRTHDAY (BESIDES THAT BAG)

A Tamagoyaki Pan

I am obsessed with Japanese breakfasts. I just always feel so serene and calm while eating them. A typical Japanese breakfast includes steamed rice, Miso Soup, grilled fish, some Japanese pickled vegetables like pickled radish or pickled cucumber (which are different than American pickles which are cucumbers), Umeboshi, and a Tamagoyaki, which is that egg omelette that you often get with sushi plates.

To make the Tamagoyaki, you need a special rectangular pan. Well I've been making my own in a regular pan, but you don't get those straight quadrilateral lines that I so crave. So this pan would be perfect.

A Mango Cutter

Surprise, surprise, another food related item. Fruit is always such a pain to eat. All the peeling, chopping, skinning, pitting, de-seeding is sometimes just too much of a bother and by the time I'm done, I'm no longer in the mood to eat the damn piece of fruit anymore. Mangoes are probably the fruit that I hate peeling the most. I don't know why so many chefs advocate the "hedgehog" method where you cut the two halves and then score the flesh and turn the skin inside-out. You waste so much mango that way.

That's why I am very hopeful that this Mango Cutter will save me all the aggravation. I had seen it before, but wasn't really sure it worked that well. Then I saw Bobby Flay use it on his show, and my hopes were renewed.

A New iPod

I'm sure I don't need to explain to any of my readers how ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY an iPod is to my life. In fact, if we had a nuclear holocaust, and I could only bring one item, it would be my iPod. But OMG, last Friday, in typical Terence airheadness, I lost my iPod. I was at J. Crew, looking at shirts, and put down my iPod while holding up some shirts in the air. Then in a totally ditzy move, I just walked away from my iPod leaving it there for someone else's enjoyment.

I think I might want a Nano, particularly the Product(RED) one because I do like that color and I can help some kids too, and also because I think the next version of the full iPod will be coming out in a few months.

My Own Gap Ad

I love Gap ads. I wish I could live in one. Everyone looks so happy and they all have perfect teeth. Some of my favorites (see the hyperlinks to YouTube videos) include "Love Train", with that girl who kind of does a back flip at the end. Juliette Lewis with Daft Punk is really cute too, dancing with the robots. I also love the ad with all the models biking to "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire and the colorful scarves (couldn't find a YouTube link). Patrick Wilson, Will Kemp, Raoul Bova all provide very nice eye candy. And I love the Mary J. Blige ad because she sings one of my most favorite songs ever. But my all time favorites are the spots from the "Give A Little Bit" ad series. I always get a little misty-eyed at those ads because I had some stuff going on at the time those aired, and the singing is just so wistful.

Birthday Post #02: My Early Birthday Present

I bought myself an early birthday present the other day. I saw this thing on TV and just HAD to have it:This is the Emma Snail Orange Peeler. It is so cute, and I am just squealing with excitement over it. I try to eat a lot of fruit to be healthy and all that. And I love oranges. But peeling them with my own hands is so beneath my dignity. Now with this handy gadget, I can peel oranges without messing up my finger nails or squirting juice all over my shirt. A tiny plastic blade cuts through the rind without puncturing the flesh. This saves so much frustration. I wish I could have thought of something like this.

Birthday Post #01: A Brief History Of Me

In four days, we come across the most insignificant day of the year: my birthday. I gave up long ago making a big deal out of it, because it's usually very inconsequential to me. Also, many people don't realize how bad it is to have a birthday in May, schedule-wise. Having a birthday in November or December is bad for obvious holiday-related reasons. But the main culprits in May are graduations and weddings. Sometimes my birthday falls also on Mother's Day, like it did last year. Given how little patience I have for difficult scheduling, I just don't even bother to make plans.

However, having a birthday and a blog does give me a prize opportunity to be unapologetically self-centered and write about myself for a change, since we all know how leery I am about that (haha). So I think I'll write a series of birthday-related posts this week and we'll see how many of my readers are ready to put a gag on me at the end.

______________________________

I was born on May 14, 1977 in Cheverly, MD, a town which I have no recollection of, and have been meaning to visit, so I could tell people someday how I rose up out of the ghetto, with my black name and all. I was the first born in my family and blissfully enjoyed life as an only child for two years, until my first brother was born.
When I first started to speak, I was about three years old, at which point my first memory is me sitting in a La-Z-Boy chair, watching The Dukes of Hazzard in our apartment in New Jersey. I can only imagine that at that moment I was a) silently taking in everything around me, plotting my master plan to dominate the family structure; b) humming quietly because I was an infant genius utterly bored with my current company; c) or sitting, strapped to the chair, so I wouldn't fall down the stairs again.

I soon mastered English, once I realized that my mouth served a purpose other than chew and drool. I caught on to English so well that today I even have a blog. Woo-hoo.

I suppose I was a smart kid, pretty early. But due to the Asian parental academic pressure instilled in me since pre-school, I was pretty socially inept, which still holds true today.

After pre-school, we moved to Virginia and I was ready to take on the world. I entered Kindergarten at a public school near a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Waynesboro, VA. I breezed through Kindergarten with the best show-and-tells and an unhealthy obsession with The A-Team (you can see my tv habits were developed early). After Kindergarten, we moved to Charlottesville, where I would live for the next 12 years. In Grade 1, I began to learn about classroom politics and in my rebellious and stubborn nature, refused to take part.

In Grade 2, I got a tonsillectomy and went through a lot of complications that required me to go back to the hospital after I threw up blood (sorry if I grossed you out). In Grade 2, I also cried in the middle of class because Anna (I forget her last name) announced to the entire class that she had a crush on me.

I think in Grade 3, I began to fear my own genius. I was kind of a rebellious third grader, maybe because Ms. Locke was this evil bitch and I did not get along with her. I do remember that we did have a semi-sweet bonding session because for some reason when I was little, I really liked going to the dentist, and Ms. Locke used to be a dental assistant.

Grades 4-8 were pretty non-descript, defined really by my choices in wardrobe and as the sole Asian kid in my entire grade. I switched schools again in 4th grade when we moved out to this tiny town just outside of Charlottesville, that basically consisted of a post office. I graduated 5th grade as the front runner for the 5th grader of the year award, but lost to some other guy. It's a loss from which I still haven't recovered.

Things picked up in Middle School. I was at a new school and the New Kids On the Block were gods. I picked up the saxophone and was starting to learn of young teenage love. I had a "girlfriend" in Grade 7, if you could call it that. I think our high point was going to the movies together and then a month later, she unceremoniously dumped me. By the end of middle school, I had a great group of friends, including my best friend, Ryan Zackrisson, who I've lost touch with and no Google search has ever been able to come up with anything on him. I also had a crush on my 6th grade Social Studies teacher, Mr. Maher (I started gay at a young age, I guess.) I still remember on our 8th grade class trip, when he showed us his boxers because he was so proud of them, but now looking back I probably should have told our principal that our teacher was sexually harrassing us.

I left J.T. Henley Middle School as the Best Dressed Guy (voted by my classmates) and was forcibly switched to a private, quasi-Episcopalian (who are the wimpy Catholics) and rather snooty school. To this day, I feel bad about not keeping in touch with my public school friends, especially the aforementioned Ryan, and my Cub Scout buddy Cam Dirickson, who I had a brief reunion with at Kaplan SAT class. But I made some new friends including her (who really needs to update her blog one of these days) and him and him.

I got pretty good grades. Then I encountered Biology and stopped doing well in school. I became our school's resident trivia expert as captain of the Academic Team, which was fun in high school, but in college extremely dorky. I also got glasses and focused a little too much on my studies. I played on our high school tennis team as well as a few local tournaments (and one in Florida). I even won a few trophies, but more for Academic Team, than tennis. For some reason, I got really shy in high school, which is a trait that is stuck with me today.

I give college mixed reviews. I ended up having a single my Freshman year, because the person assigned to my dorm ended up going somewhere else. I joined Model UN, and am still pretty proud of my gavels (no, that's not a phallic metaphor). I was a little lost in college, both personally (I'm much too cynical to say "spiritually") and geographically. Penn was still in the midst of taking over West Philly, but the neighborhood was still definitely "not so good" with "not so good" people wandering around.

Graduation came and went. After that, I moved to New York where I lived in an assortment of apartments. I took a job at a law firm, and ended up staying there for six years. While I don't work there anymore, my career, I think, has been what you might call "stagnant." I also came out at age 26 and haven't looked back since.

That brings us to my life post-coming out, becoming an amateur gourmet, dating some cool guys, dating some really dumpy guys, traveling a bit, developing an unhealthy obsession with Canadian Maple Leaf Cookies and frequent flier miles, watching every episode of every show that J.J. Abrams ever made (Felicity, Alias, Lost, Six Degrees), and then in July 2005, while wallowing in self-pity from a broken arm, starting up a blog called TCho's World, which depressingly enough, may prove to be my crowning achievement. Unless, you count the time when I hit a ball with my racquet frame and the ball--I can't stress this enough--MIRACULOUSLY landed inside an empty tennis ball can, as if the hand of God had dropped it in there himself. Who I am kidding? Of course that's my piece de resistance. That will never happen again in the history of time.

In summation, 29 years, 361 days, no boyfriend, very little responsibility, an addiction to expensive shoes and really salty pickles, contact lenses, a somewhat odd collection of friends (one of whom still holds a grudge against Brad Pitt for leaving Jennifer) and an impressive scar that allows me to brag to all my friends about my bionic arm. I can see it now. 30 will be the best age for me since 29.

Maybe I'll Meet A Hobbit

The actual trip is a long ways away, but I just bought a ticket for New Zealand! I took advantage of this amazing deal on United due to a slip-up by a soon-to-be ex-employee of United. I'm very excited. I've spent a lot of time in Australia, which I've been meaning to write about at some point, but never been to New Zealand. I planned my trip for February 2008, so I'll be in NZ for gay pride. I'm flying into Auckland and have done a bunch of research, and am a little overwhelmed already. There's so much to do!

Here's to kiwis!