Eighth_Wonder's Xanga

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Sat, 04 Feb 2006 00:52:29 GMT

Looking for adrianfung.com? Go to 8w.crossingtheglobe.org.

And. SSSSSSSSSSSSSStop coming here.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Thu, 15 Dec 2005 01:59:33 GMT

Remind me: Why do I have this site again?

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Thu, 03 Nov 2005 18:02:53 GMT

It's been a long time since I last wrote but the good news is that -- there's lots of good news. I think. Let's start with the bad things: I have this weird laceration on the inside of my nostril which really sucks because it has no chance to heal what with the constant high traffic of pure, certified snot.

Onto less gross things, I went to North Carolina to see my girlfriend for her birthday. She lives in a farmhouse with a forest and endless fields for a backyard, which is at once beautiful but creepy at night. We had a great time and ate incredible food. I never would have thought that the best steak I'd have would be in North Carolina at a place called Pop's Trattoria. I've taken to drinking red wine with steak and I want to shake the hand of whoever thought of doing that first.

I also made her think that I was getting her a Winnie The Pooh umbrella for her birthday, and I sat back watching her struggle to contain her obvious disgust in my taste for gifts. When I gave her the real gift -- a much more substantial mp3 player -- she was elated (since she had lost her last one in Egypt this summer and likes to run to music) but we were both scared at how good of a liar I am.

Her roommate has a dog named Annie who is absolutely adorable. And, unlike my dogs, knows how to play fetch.

It was so fun seeing her everyday but it was tough because I stayed with one of her friends -- who was a really nice guy -- but it was just such a nuisance to have to get to his house at a decent hour while knowing that sleeping over at hers would be so much more convenient and great. But the things we do to make our mothers happy ...

Currently scrambling to see whether I have anything interesting to say at all before I end this post. Nope.

But, recently, I noticed that more people are subscribing to this site. The last person was Gabe, whom I have known for, like, 25 years. (Seeing that I'm only 24, this is a feat in itself.) People really need to stop coming here, okay?

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Tue, 13 Sep 2005 02:13:33 GMT

Little snag in tagging the quartet: One of the violinists thinks he likes Redwood String Quartet better. I'm not entirely sure what we have in common with redwoods. All I know is that they're big and, frankly, we aren't. At the same time, it doesn't sound that bad. After all, we can't expect to collectively resonate with something like a tree.

Went to San Francisco State University today to meet with someone who wants music at his outdoor grad fair. The 28 Bus sucks. Waited forty-five minutes. Going there didn't make any sense, either, even though he really wanted to meet in person. I tried to insinuate there was nothing we couldn't discuss over the phone, but apparently, he really wanted me there so that he could show me "visually" how "the set-up would work" and "whether I thought it would be alright". Essentially, he showed me a picture of umbrellas. And it really didn't matter if I thought it was alright.

I made spaghetti with sausage and portabella mushrooms. The portabella mushrooms were thrown in only because they were on sale. I'm sure I wasted its trendiness by throwing it in spaghetti sauce, instead of grilling it between two slices of bread, cheese, and, I don't know, truffle oil.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Thu, 08 Sep 2005 03:30:25 GMT

Let me write something quick because I haven't and I can. The apartment in San Francisco is great and I couldn't ask for something better. Well, I guess I could, but that would include stone cupids and a ten-foot fountain -- which could get old fast anyway. It overlooks the city and you can see the ocean. It's nice to live on my own again. I only did it for one year in Montreal and it was in the most grim of spaces, so this is a breath of fresh air.

Totally uninspired to write on the other site lately. Something stifling about expectations.

The quartet here plays well and I'm excited about the possibilities. I'm going to need to work on making more friends because my quartet is pretty much all I see these days. The problem is that I have no classes (I never thought I'd consider that a problem) and so all I'm doing is performing and rehearsing with a close nucleus of players. In my own attempt to branch out, I agreed to read Schubert's Cello Quintet with some other students at the school. I was genuinely shocked and became immediately grateful of my present quartet members' level.

We're thinking of a name for the group. Girlfriend always amazes: She came up with The Embarcadero String Quartet -- which sounds better than, believe it or not, anything any of us in the quartet came up with. Embarcadero is cool to us because that's the first place we played, busking on the street as a gig. (Actually, we played at Castro Station first, but it's never struck me as creative to name yourself after a tyrant -- besides, Embarcadero was the first place we played after having rehearsed.)

Bringing this up with the quartet, they were very happy. Nodding their heads. But they wanted to know what it meant first, before we assumed the name. None of us were Spanish, but I looked it up:

A pier, wharf, or landing place, especially on a river or inland waterway.

WHY NOT?! That's like, great. A landing place. Not "squirrel testicles", or whatever our violist Dave thought it might be. I think it's a go. What do you think?

Monday, August 08, 2005

Mon, 08 Aug 2005 15:45:39 GMT

Perhaps even bitterly saturnine, fueled with phone calls mired in static and awkward, inopportune disconnections, I finally wrote her a torturously long email about my true feelings about her decision. She wrote back surprised and somehow happy to know what I really thought. The idea that I hadn't done this sooner cropped up neatly in the conversation, and I realized I was becoming one of those people who'll say something was cool when I only want to see what she would choose. How's that for ugly?

I guess I'm not breaking any new ground when I say that girls think differently than guys. It seems her whole thought process is founded on a separate law of gravity. Had I needed to struggle with two decisions, teeter-tottering to either side, I would never have thought a clear-cut decision would suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks.

I suppose with the lack of communication, I started doubting her confidence and began dreaming up the potential that she was simply biding her time to tell me, on American soil, that she thought it wasn't going to work. She told me on the phone, when we finally got in touch with one another, in a manner I found both cute, and slightly embarassing for me, "My friend told me I should tell you that you're important to me more often." At its root, though, I think there was that doubt because all her research had her leaning towards the school that was closer to me, in terms of its competitiveness and location, not to mention that her family and friends were rooting for it as well.

It's occurred to me that a relationship is an exercise of choice, sacrifice, and endeavouring to understand. We finally got hold of a stable line and talked at length about our relationship and how we were going to work things out logistically. We hung up, both feeling better, both feeling that what happened was more a matter of being starved of communication. And I guess life is like coffee: bitter until you start stirring.

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Sun, 31 Jul 2005 22:21:47 GMT

I suppose the height of my selfishness comes about in a relationship. I don't really understand how it happened, but my newly acquired girlfriend struggled long and hard with the option of being only 70 miles away, but has chosen instead to be on the other side of the country. Both comparable schools, with advantages and disadvantages evenly aligned.

A part of me realizes that a relationship so new, so young, and perhaps full of naive hope, will have problems holding sway over a decision for graduate studies. Maybe it bothers me because I think that our relationship, a slingshot of a beginning with only three weeks of dating and now three months of her being on the other side of the world, cannot survive the weight of it. And these past three months while she was in Africa saving the world was just that: Survival. We only maintained a relationship; we didn't actually grow. Most of it's because no one wants to argue over an ocean -- and specifically avoiding tension never constitutes growth within a relationship.

Perhaps overly simple and jejune, a part of me feels hurt that she doesn't really see how devastating her decision will be. Even if we've known each other for years and years, it's not like we've dated that long. I find myself succumbing to petty thoughts: When she has the chance to make it ten times better, she doesn't. I confess to agreeing with her that the degree she wants to get -- the reason she'll be going so far -- has no real clout and is, in her words, for 'self-edifying' purposes only. A part of me realizes I'm belittling her in the way that I can only think these things if I don't take her interests seriously. But, in my lesser moments, the only way I can justify the decision, to understand it -- if it were up to me -- was if I didn't really think our relationship had a chance anyway.

And if love is a game, I'm tired of rolling the dice.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Wed, 18 May 2005 17:14:51 GMT

It took me five minutes to find the button where I'm supposed to post a post. I have no idea why I have a xanga page. But I'll tell you something: It sure is simple and plain. I think I like that. And, to be honest, I'm feeling less comfortable writing on my other site lately. I think it has something to do with that whole reclusive thing I do when I know too many people are reading. Sometimes it's nice to know you have a page where there's only a small number of people reading and you don't have to edit or infuse the writing with some sort of packaged wit to justify your updating.

I like the idea that I can write in xanga and have no ready point to make, no literary tie-in, no cyclical format. I can end the post right here and, though you may feel as though it was a waste to have read all this, I make the rules. And my ex cathedra pronouncement from here on in is that none of my xanga posts have to follow any.

Friday, October 29, 2004

Fri, 29 Oct 2004 00:55:36 GMT

Okay. So chances are, if you're here, you have come by looking for the person who is leaving comments on his friends' xanga posts. You are wondering, of course, whether or not I really think I'm the Eighth_Wonder.

Suffice to say, the maintenance of the name Eighth Wonder yields especially well when I'm trying to explain to people at parties why they are suddenly wearing the remaining contents of what I was just drinking.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Tue, 24 Aug 2004 15:26:33 GMT

So I've decided to write another post because no one comes here anyway. This is good because now I can be completely 'unplugged' and dis everyone I know without them knowing it. This possibility sends chills up my spine.

First off, I'd like to make fun of my friends. My friends, on a whole, cannot spell. One time, I was reading something my friend wrote and I think the only thing he spelled right was his name. He couldn't even spell 'dis' right. He kept writing sentences like, "I whent arouend thissing eviryone." With his phony street accent, it would seem the correct pronunciation of 'th' was 'd'. I had always told him to sound the words out. I confess I hadn't taken into account that you have to talk normally in order for it to work.

Another guy on my MSN list wrote on his Sign-In Name, "On the Prawl for a Summer Job." I suppose he ended up hosing down people's cars all season.

Well, I don't have anymore time to write horribly. Trying to write well on xanga is like trying to keep dry while showering. Or something.

See what I mean?