Single in the city

Season Three, Episode Nine: I'm thirsty for some Paella! Thirsty Bear review

2011-06-24T01:18:00.001-07:00

--this article first appeared in UCSF Synapse on January 27th, 2011--

Thirsty Bear

661 Howard Street
San Francisco, CA 94103
(415) 974-0905

Four out of Five Stars

I haven’t seen my classmates Judy and Ashley in forever, and so this past Friday, we decided to take advantage of living in one of the gastronomically advanced cities in the US and explore restaurants that we haven’t been to; as deliciously delectable as the dried chicken wings at San Tung are, I’m afraid I should try to expand my horizons. Luckily, living in such a wonderfully bustling city like San Francisco, there’s always something going on, and right now (from January 15 – 31) is Dine About Town. At participating restaurant $17.50, gets you a two-course lunch meal, and for $35, you can get a three-course meal. For a starving poor graduate student (with a discerning taste for good food), that’s a pretty good deal in this city.

Thirsty Bear has that Bostonian feel to it, with the exposed brick walls and tall ceilings. They also serve beers that they brew on site, so that’s a plus. And unlike other Dine About Town restaurants, Thirsty Bear has their ENTIRE menu as part of the deal. AND you actually get a four-course meal (salad, tapas, paella, then dessert), so that’s another plus!

In a rare occurrence (and keeping in line with my I-want-to-be-more-punctual New Year’s Resolution), I arrived at the restaurant 10 minutes before our 8:30pm reservations. Look at me, I’m all grown up. Ashley and Judy showed up a bit later, and as I greeted them, the big boisterous group next to us stole one of the chairs from our table. Really? That’s just rude. At least have the decency to ask BEFORE you take a chair off our table.

After we got our pitcher of sangria (which was delicious), we got to ordering dinner. For our salads, we all got the frisée salad (mixed greens, pear, dried cranberries, walnuts & pomegranate vinaigrette). The dressing was on the lighter side, which was a definite plus. I never really got the American fascination with drowning their salad with dressing; it defeats the whole healthy aspect of eating a salad.

I was a bit bummed, because by the time that we ordered, the bocadillos (house made mini-burgers of niman ranch pork, lamb, and wagyu beef) were all out. Our server explained that they only have limited amount of buns everyday (delivered daily from a local bakery), and so once they’re out, they’re out. Bummer! Next time! So instead, for our tapas, we ordered albondigas (pork & beef meatballs, creamy polenta, queso fresco & fried shallots), seared duck breast with bosch pear, dried cherry sauce & toasted hazelnuts, and chorizo soria flatbread, romesco, broccolini, manchego & pepperocini with quail eggs. Before we ordered the flatbread, I thought that the quail eggs were going to be boiled (because that’s the only way that I’ve had it). But when it came out, it was done sunny side up (which was a pleasant surprise). The polenta that came with the albondigas was actually quite tasty, and the flat bread was surprisingly delectable; I was afraid that it was going to be a bit salty, but it was just right.

I would say that the portion sizes for their tapas are smaller compared to restaurants in Spain. Nonetheless, I would have to give it up for this restaurant (and others like it) for taking advantage of serving smaller portions, calling it “tapas” and charging a higher price for it. Though really, we as Americans can certainly benefit from this insidious practice. Really, we don’t need to eat everything “Super Sized”.

For our main course, we all had paellas. Judy and I got the Paella Valenciana (saffron, chicken, chorizo, clams, mussels, shrimp, red peppers, and peas) and Ashley ordered the Paella of the Day. The paellas were actually quite good! The paellas were just the right balance of dryness and wetness (unlike Filipino paellas which are a bit on the wet side). Though the way they do it in Spain, they usually have a minimum 2-person to get an order of paella (since they cook it to order) because the servings are usually pretty big (they cook it in a pretty big pan). Even with the smaller portions, we still ended up taking most of the paellas home because we got so full!

For desserts, we all ordered the churros with the Spanish hot chocolate. The churros were bite-sized (which was perfect since we didn’t even finish our paellas because we were so full). nd the Spanish hot chocolate was so rich; basically we were drinking melted chocolate!

Final Verdict? Ever since I had bacalao (dried and salted cod) in Lisbon, I’ve been craving them, and now I’ve finally found a place that serves them here in the US. So that’s something to come back to. Locally brewed beer available? That’s another plus! Good atmosphere and good mix of people, so that’s another plus. It’s too bad they don’t really have a good happy hour (they have drink specials but no food specials), otherwise, I can definitely see myself going to this place more often.

Season Three, Episode Eight: New Years Resolution, Revisited

2011-06-24T01:13:00.000-07:00

--this article appeared in UCSF Synapse on January 6, 2011--

Yes, it is that time of the year again, and no, I’m not talking about the National “Return Unwanted Christmas Presents” Day. It is that time of the year when gym membership sign-ups are probably at their highest (and gyms reaching its fullest capacity), nicotine gum and patch sales are brisk, and lots of broken promises are initiated. With the new year, some people are reenergized and motivated to change what they feel like is an area in their lives that they can improve upon, and thus make New Year’s resolutions.

Last year, I made such a plunge, and now, let’s look back and see how successful (or in some cases = EPIC fail) I was in maintaining those resolutions.

Spend more time with Family and Friends
Overall, I’d say I did fairly well in this department. In the past, I called home MAYBE once or twice a month; this past year, I probably called once or twice a week. I have made time for the BFFs, and reconnected with friends that I’ve been meaning to catch up with.

Fit in Fitness
I think I held my end of the bargain, considering the circumstances. Rotations (and HP&M classes) did take a toll on my body, but I made it a point to work out at least 2-3 times a week. Otherwise, I would’ve not had the energy to do work I had to do when I got home.

Tame the bulge
This one I’m not so sure how I did. Considering that I’m still carrying a little extra “holiday weight” (no thanks to my mother!), I have gained about 15 pounds as compared to the beginning of last year. The hopeful person in me would like to say that the weight gain is mostly from muscle weight, though the realist in me would partially attribute it to my mom’s devilishly delectable desserts she made for the holidays.

Get out of debt
Well, this one was NEVER going to happen; as I’ve mentioned previously, I just took on a mortgage last year, and unless there is a substantial trust fund that’s set to mature under my name, I don’t see my mortgage being paid off. And staring at me like a barrel of a gun is my ever-increasing student loan debt; though if I get into a residency, I get to postpone the joy of paying back these loans for another year. But as far as unsecured debt, I’m actually doing pretty well; no outstanding credit card debts, no car payments, etc.

Learn something new
So, last year, my friend and I threw around the idea of sharing a Rosetta Stone CD and learning Chinese. Yeah, that DIDN’T happen. She and I were just too darn busy with school and work stuff that we didn’t really have time to fully get something out of the experience. There’s always next year.

Help others
Still making good on this promise. MHC is going strong, and we just celebrated our one-year anniversary this past December (though I did miss the festivities!).

Get organized
Definite improvements in this department. For starters, it’s been awhile since I was able to finish things way BEFORE a deadline; I guess I’m one of those late-starters… But my residency applications were all finished before New Years’ Eve, which is impressive since most of them are due the second week of January. I’d call that progress. AND I’ve made a serious dent in organizing my house, that it was actually presentable enough to have my first overnight guests, my college best friends Maiti (currently doing her third year of medical school in Cuba) and Michelle (works in LA, in town for a wedding in Berkeley). We’ll see about that housewarming party (it might actually happen BEFORE graduation! Lol).

No new shoes in 2010
I am actually really proud of this one! A resolution that saved me hundreds of dollars! It’s amazing how much money I spend on shoes, and even more amazingly, how strongly I resisted breaking this resolution, in spite of many temptations.

Try to be punctual
Hmmm… let’s see, how should I put it? Work in progress? Hahaha… Though I’d say, I was better this year. Last year, I was supposed to meet up with high school friends for dinner at 5:30 and I didn’t show up until 7:15. This year, meeting up with the same high school friends for Free Museum Tuesday at the Museum of Art in Balboa Park in San Diego (which if I may add, is quite impressive and makes me wish that I went to it more often while I was living there) to see the Toulouse-Lautrec exhibit, I was only late by 45 minutes! Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

So by my count, I have five fulfilled resolutions, one unresolved resolution, and three epic fail resolutions; that’s not too terrible. What’s my new year’s resolution this year? Redo the ones that I wasn’t able to accomplish? While that may be the logical one, I probably didn’t fulfill them for a reason. Turn in my SITC columns to my managing editor BEFORE 5pm on Mondays? Hahaha… So, let’s try for something in the middle: A dear friend of mine (who is an avid reader of my column) has suggested that I should write more about being single, given the title of my column. Touché. So I guess I’ll try doing that, but after I’ve talked about my European/Moroccan adventures! Stay tuned for that one, folks!

Season Three, Episode Season Seven: Day at the Museum, Part Deux: Impressionist and the beyond at the de Young

2010-12-25T23:59:00.001-08:00

The impressionism movement was important in many respects, and in particular, it serves as an important intermediary between the "Romantic –style classical painting" and the "modern art". The artists at this time experimented with different techniques, vantage points, and subject matter. We are fortunate to have some of Musée d'Orsay's collection on display at de Young Museum until January 18^th.

Cezanne

I admit, when I was first studying art, I didn't have that big of an appreciation for still-life art; but after studying Cezanne's techniques, I grew a greater appreciation for them. Instead of using shading to represent form and volume, he uses subtle modulation of colors. Instead of using the traditional depiction of perspective, he uses multiple viewpoints to assemble various "everyday objects" in a discordant fashion, and uses repetition of similar shapes and the harmonious use of palettes to bring the composition into a perfect balance. Cezanne has painted over 200 still-life paintings (he wanted to harness the "power and poetry of everyday objects), and some are display here at the de Young. Be sure to check out "Still Life with Onions" and "Kitchen Table" to appreciate some of Cezanne's brilliance.

Gauguin

Gauguin's life experiences have certainly shaped his artistic endeavors. His life in Paris, living on rue de Chaillot at the heart of the seizième arrondissement, not too far from the Seine,
influenced his earlier works of representing a sort of
rural bonhomie. His time at Arles with Vincent Van Gogh was two-months filled with intense collaboration, and each artist had a contrasting orientation (Van Gogh – more expressionistic, Gauguin more contemplative) that allowed for some "healthy competition" between the two artists, propelling each other to push the limits of color and imagery to the extreme, resulting in 15 Gauguin masterpieces in such a short time span. "Les Alyscamps" in particular was quite striking; he uses abstraction of natural forms and arbitrary use of color (the "flaming red bush" and the "blue tree trunks") to exemplify a certain level of expressive quality that represent his "Synthesist style".

Not to miss paintings: "Tahitian Women", "Portrait of the Artist with the Yellow Christ", "Les Alyscamps", "Arearea".

The Pont-Aven School

In contrast to Georges Seurat and Paul Signac's Neo-Impressionists style (ripipoint or "pointillism"), which they considered to be too rational and progressive, the "Pont-Aven School" (Emile Bernard, Charles Laval, Paul Sérusier, and to a lesser extent, Paul Gauguin) advanced the aesthetics and iconography as advocated by Gauguin's artistic circle and the Synthesism movement. These artists sought to further push the limits (previously successfully established by the Impressionism movement) of Realism. In particular, these artists drew on the Romantic notion of reconnecting with one's origin and found a certain inspiration in the peasant life of the inhabitants of Brittany to represent the "primitiveness of province life", perpetrating the Celtic piety, the political independence, and the poetic nature that is ingrained in Brittany's culture.

Not to miss paintings: Bernard's "Breton Women with Umbrellas", "Bathers with Red Cow", and "Madeleine in the Bois d'Amoir", Laval's "Landscape", Sérusier's "The Fence", and Gauguin's "Seascape with Cow (at the Edge of the Cliff)"

Season Three, Episode Six: The day at the Museum: Impressionist and Beyond at de Young, part I

2010-12-09T09:55:00.000-08:00

I’m very grateful that Musée d’Orsay is going through major renovations in preparation for its 25^th Anniversary in 2011; it’s been long overdue. I remember when I was living in Paris, I used to go visit d’Orsay almost every week (thanks to my American University of Paris ID card, which got me in to most of the Parisians Museums (60, in total) for free); I remember that whenever I’d go, I’d only see certain sections at one time because the lighting in some sections (the Salle des Colonnes in particular) was really terrible at times, so you’d have to go at a certain time to get some good ambient lighting. Also, the current layout as it was back then was a little hard to follow, and when it got busy, I always felt a bit claustrophobic. It felt a bit disjointed, and a bit disorganized; there was not a cohesive stylistic, thematic, or chronological organization to the collection.

Another big plus (and more relevant for us who live in San Francisco) is that because of the renovation, the museum is lending out some of its collection as a part of a “traveling tour”. I missed the first exhibit “The Birth of Impressionism”, and I’m bummed because I missed some of my favorite artists’ masterpieces (Courbet, Degas, Manet, Monet, Pisarro, Renoir), and some of my favorite pieces from d’Orsay: “The Dancing Lesson” by Degas, “The Gare Saint-Lazare” by Monet, and “The Birth of Venus” by William Bouguereau (which, in my opinion, comes awfully close in matching the radiance and the astounding beauty of the original, painted by Botticelli).

Not to be amiss, I made sure that I came to see the second exhibit: Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cézanne and Beyond: Post-Impressionist Masterpieces from the Musée d'Orsay. I was pretty stoked because Impressionism/Post-Impressionism is my FAVORITE art movement; the thing that I like about it most is that there is something for everyone: there's something to appreciate, irrespetive of the viewer's art knowledge. You don't necessarily have to know everything about the paitner, or the subject for that matter; you can always appreciate the intricate brushstrokes, the color contrast, the different techniques employed, etc.

I know the Van Gogh exhibits are getting all the press, and for good reasons. “Starry Night (La nuit étoilée” is arguably one of Van Gogh’s (and the Impressionist movement’s) best known piece. I’ve always been awestruck by the sheer brilliance of the painting. This painting represents the pinnacle of Van Gogh’s disposition in life; irrespective of his mental instability, his use of the muted blue and green palettes contrasted with the yellow palettes gives way to the illusion of dancing lights from the stars and the radiating lights from the city and with his vivid and empathic brush strokes he’s conveying a message of hope and divinity as represented by the subtle connection between the two lovers in the foreground and the constellation of yellow stars in the sky.

His use of bright colors certainly influenced other artists (Gauguin, in particular) of his time. But there’s more to see in this exhibit.

One of my favorite post-impressionist painters is George Seurat. Unfortunately, one of my all-time favorite paintings “A Sunday on La Grande Jatte” was not part of the collection (this painting is located in the Art Institute of Chicago), but there are a number of his works shown in the exhibit, including his sketch study for Le Cirque: even in this sketch, you can appreciate the uplifting effects of his use of color and optics, his upward sweeping lines expressing the lively pleasures of the circus.

Also, make sure to NOT miss the other great works of the “pointillism” artists like Paul Signac (Women at the Well, Entrance to the Port of Marseille), Georges Lemmen (Plage a Heist (The Beach at Heist) and Théo van Rysselberghe (The Man at the Tiller, Sailing Boats and Estuary). I was especially impressed with van Rysselberghe’s work with “Sailing Boats and Estuary” because he utilized all the colors of the rainbow in this painting, in spite of using mostly a bluish palette to represent the sky and the water; you had to look at the painting closely to identify the other colors. And Signac’s work (especially the Women at the Well) is just phenomenal; he painted this painting after Seurat’s untimely death (he died at age 31), and perfected his mentor’s uncanny technique of juxtaposing colors to create a very intense color harmonies that evoke a very Utopian daily life at St. Tropez in the 1890s.

Tips for all of you who’d like to see it: See it on a weekday preferably after lunch (2-3pm is good)! Also, just as an FYI, they are normally closed on Mondays, except for December 27^th, and MLK Jr Day (January 17, 2011). They also have extended hours during the holiday season (Sunday December 26^th – Thursday, December 30^th and from Thursday January 6th – Sunday January 9^th, 2011 it’s open from 9:30am – 9pm) . Ticket information: Students are $16 w/ ID and adults are $20. Although I would suggest for students to get the annual FAMSF membership for $55/year; it’ll totally pay for itself. As a member, you receive 4 free tickets (+4 companion tickets) to see the exhibit (though only 1+1 companion ticket at a time), and other special exhibits, plus, you get into the Legion of Honor for free too! Other enticing upcoming exhibits at the de Young include “Olmec: Colossal Masterworks of Ancient Mexico” from February 19 – May 8 2011, “Balenciaga and Spain” from March 26 – July 4 2011, and “Picasso from Musée National Picasso, Paris” from June 11 – September 25 2011.

There’s too much to talk about in one sitting (I haven’t even discussed Cezanne, Gauguin, the Pont-Aven School, and the Nabi yet), so we’ll pick it up where we left off at the next column!

Season Three, Episode Five: Restaurant Review: Nopalito

2010-11-23T01:05:00.000-08:00

Nopalito
306 Broderick Street
San Francisco, CA 94117-2275
(415) 437-0303
Four out of five stars

NOPA (North of the Panhandle) has a lot of things going for itself. Officially part of Western Addition, NOPA was coined by the real estate smarties that wanted to push gentrification (and real estate value), and as a result, what was once an unassuming area of San Francisco, is now home to a bustling hipster mecca, with plenty of activities that cater to the hipster crowd (live shows at the Independent, 90s clubbing at Madrone’s), as well as a diverse selection of fine dining establishments that cater to different tastes and palates.

One of the many fine restaurants in the area is Nopalito, which means “little cactus (nopal)” in Spanish. It prides itself as a “vibrant neighborhood Mexican kitchen” that celebrates the “traditional cookery of Mexico”.

Being from SoCal, I consider myself not necessarily a “Mexican food connoisseur”, but I’d like to think that I know “authentic” Mexican food when I eat one. And this place isn’t quite it; and I think that’s the charm of it all. Nopalito is like the Mexican version of what an organic PF Chang’s would be like.

Ok, maybe that’s a bit insulting to Nopalito, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that this is not your El Farolito-type of a restaurant. By any means, I’m not trying to degrade Nopalito; The food is prepared fresh with local, organic, and sustainable ingredients, and the presentation is quite pleasing.

Speaking of food, some things to try while you are here: First and foremost, the Totopas con Chile (Tortilla chips, salsa de arbol, cotija cheese); they are to die for! As in literally, you’d feel that your artery is slowly clogging as you bite into the spicy chips dipped in sour cream. And then when you’re done, you feel like you’ve just lost a few years off your life (and you rationalize this by saying, “Eh! But those are the Depends years anyway”) but gained a few QALYs (and weight). That’s when you know that you’ve gotten to the good part.

And I know 7x7 has the Carnitas (long braised pork) in their list of the “100 Things to Try Before You Die”. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they were yummy, but if it were me, I’d put the Totopas in the list before their Carnitas. And there’s something about their Enchiladas de Mole con Pollo (Sauce of chiles, chocolate and nuts, shredded chicken, onion, queso fresco) that draws me to them; I get it almost every time that I go there. And recently, I had a taste of their Torta de Chilorio (Sandwich of shredded pork in adobo, jack cheese, onion and avocado), and it was pretty good (minus the avocado part). I know, I’m part of the 0.001% of Californians who do NOT like avocados, so sue me.

Another not-to-miss item: Margaritas! I know they’re not technically a “food item”, but they do make them really well here. A pitcher or two will come in handy while you’re waiting for the ridiculous line during the dinner rush, so I would suggest calling ahead of time to get on the “waiting list”.

Keeping up with the “gentrified” neighborhood of NOPA, the clientele is what you’d normally expect in a “hip and cool” San Francisco restaurant: San Francisco foodies, people that have the website “Stuff White People Like” as their homepage in their Safari browser, Quarterlife Crisis sufferers, and the like. On the other extreme, there are plenty of businessfolks who frequent this place, I’d assume because of the ease of parking (there’s a parking structure next to the restaurant), and the fact that the space itself is quite relaxed. And quite a few tourists too! Not Fisherman’s Wharf in magnitude, but I swear, every single time that I’ve been here, there’s always a contingency of tourists eating there. Maybe they have a coupon on the Visitor Guide?

Oh yeah, I’ll definitely be back. It’s around my neighborhood, the prices are reasonable, the margaritas are excellent, and it’s a nice spot to people watch.

Season Three, Episode Four: Daniel Kessler, my Lover: my night @ the Fox Theater with Interpol

2010-10-27T17:07:00.001-07:00

I've been listening to Interpol for a few years now, ever since my friend from I-House lent me her Antics CD, and ever since then, I was hooked. There was something about their sound that was hauntingly beautiful, and emotionally gut-wrenching, all wrapped in an otherwise other-worldly amalgamation of poetic lyrics and distinct patterns of guitar riffs and drums. There was something about that album that spoke to my inner indie emo punk self.

I've never seen Interpol live before, and in my desire to see them in concert, let's just say that I paid a handsome amount of monies to get a pair of tickets to the sold-out show. But it was all worth it. And then some.

Before the concert, Karmela and I decided to have dinner at Pica Pica, a Venezuelan restaurant in the "Valencia district" part of Mission. We used to live together a couple of years ago, and have not seen each other for a few years. Over a Pabellon (Shredded Skirt Steak, Sweet Plantains, Black Beans, Cheese) Arepa and Cachapa, Guiso and Tilapia empanadas, and Pasapalos (Sweet Plantains) (what can I say, we're the kind of people that eat, and eat well), we caught up with each other's lives, swapped life stories, man issues, professional endeavors, and the like.

This is the second show that I've seen in the Fox Theater. Over the summer, I saw The New Pornographers with a couple of my friends, and since we bought our tickets too late, we were not able to get General Admission tickets, and instead, we ended up sitting up in the boonies. I still had a great time listening to them live, but I've made a resolution that I will only watch concerts via General Admission; at least while I'm still young and the jumping around and the other stuff that crazy kids do while in concerts haven't gotten old to me yet.

Once we got to Fox Theater, a funny thing happened after we got our beverages; we were about to check in our coats in the coat check area, and as we were paying, the guy manning the booth thanked me and called me by name. I thought for a second, trying to place him in my memory. Did I meet him from somewhere already and just don't remember him? Not that I would put that past me, I definitely have done that in the past. As it turns out, my old pal from college, Julianne, was back there; we were in Student Council @ UCSD, and we haven't seen each other since then. Apparently, she's in Sacramento, and just finished law school. It is such a small world, indeed.

The set list was a mix of their old and new stuff. They opened with "Success", one of the songs off their self-titled fourth studio album. They played all of my favorite songs (C'mere, Summer Well, Rest my Chemistry, Evil, Barricade, Narc, Take You on a Cruise, PDA, Not Even Jail), so I have no complaints there. They sound amazing live! They sound very similar to how they sound on their records, which for them is a particularly good thing. 'Mela and I danced, grooved, bounced, and reveled in their music, and at times, I felt like I was 21 again.

And Daniel Kessler is just amazing on guitars. 'Mela must've snapped over 200 photos, and more than half of it was all Daniel. It's been decided: Me and 'Mela are going to have his kids. I'm still trying to figure out how that's going to be biologically (and logically) possible, but as soon as I figure it out, I'll report on my progress.

A couple of things just got on my nerves. The "Oh, excuse me, coming through, I'm just trying to find my friend" routine is just a nuisance; just go through and stop making lame excuses. At least have the cojones to own up to your actions. And oh, tall guys (and girls), can you all do us a favor? Please try not to be so close to the stage, because you are blocking precious real estate. Thanks!

The encore was more of the same awesomeness. They opened their encore with "Untitled" (a song that was used in the Friends season 9 finale), and then they followed it with "Stella was a Diver and She was Always Down". Throughout the concert, I was wondering when they were going to play "Slow Hands", one of my all-time favorite songs, and they played it as their last song; a fitting end to the night.

I walked away from that concert not just with a $30 Interpol shirt (which I wore to school the next day, by the way), but also with a deeper appreciation for Interpol. Until the next concert! And this time, I'm getting those tickets as soon as they're released!

Season Three, Episode Three: Single in the City goes to St. Louis!

2010-10-21T11:05:00.001-07:00

The Academy of Managed Care Pharmacists Educational Showcase was in St. Louis this year. The consensus that I have gathered was not a favorable one; actually, I don't think anyone said anything remotely positive about St. Louis.

The weather throughout trip was actually quite wonderful: low 70s and sunny throughout the day, and a crisp mid 50s at night, which is apparently quite different from the "normal" weather pattern in St. Louis; one day it will be sunny, the next it is pouring down rain.

The conference itself was well worth my of time, though I would say this year as compared to last year, the speakers were a bit disappointing. This year, we had the "Three Doctors", who I thought were very inspirational, but the fact that that I flew into St. Louis that morning via a redeye flight meant finding creative ways in trying to stay awake: coffee, self-inflicted pinches in multiple areas, and the occasional slap in the face. CMS Deputy Administration and Director Jonathan Blum delivered the Friday Keynote, and you can tell that he's not very used to public speaking; he's a very intelligent man, but perhaps his nervousness made him speak without any pauses (not even for breath breaks).

I didn't get to go to as much educational showcases this year compared to last year (not getting reimbursed = no required events to attend), though the ones that I did attend were quite useful. I especially enjoyed my roundtable discussion about medication adherence; now I don't feel so lost about my project.

Our search for our Friday night entertainment was quite entertaining, to say the least. Most of the UCSF contingents stayed at the Four Seasons, so we tried to hang out around the area, which was Laclede's Landing, a nine-block industrial area with cobblestone streets and vintage brick-and-cast-iron warehouses. One thing that I made sure we DIDN'T do was cross the Mississippi, into East St. Louis; apparently, it's not a very safe place.

For dinner, we decided on getting our grub on at The Old Spaghetti Factory. I hadn't been to one in years! After dinner, we strolled along N. 2^nd Street, trying to look for a "happening place". Walking down this street reminded me of Tijuana for some reason. Sleazy doorman trying to get you into their bars. Even sleazier men clogging up the street hooting and hollering. At one place, there was a scantily clad rail-thin woman shaking her pom-poms. Seriously. True story.

I don't remember the name of the bar that we eventually went into, but what caught our attention was the "$1 shots/$2 jaeger shots" sign out front; it was too much to pass up. The place was decidedly "gritty" and "grungy". They served their shots on ketchup container cups (WTF?). The DJ played a LOT of late 90's/early 2000's songs, but to his defense, he was VERY responsive my song requests. Though I think the people that were there were looking at us funnily, especially when my song requests came on; I don't think this place regularly see people dancing to dance music.

It is in this bar where I heard the weirdest pick-up line someone has ever used on me; A scruffy, buttoned-up shirt dressed man, perhaps in his mid 20s, came up from behind me with his flipped phone opened up as if he's ready to take a number, and asked: "Hey, are you a hairdresser?" Now, I'm not sure if this was the "code phrase" in Missouri for "Are you gay?", but nonetheless, I missed that whole exchange. And he was actually kinda cute. Bummer.

We ended the night at a bar titled "Big Daddy". We passed by this place on our way to the hotel on Wednesday, and they were playing music on full blast at 9 AM; yeah, it's THAT kind of place. I was half-expecting this place to be crawling with the "corn-fed Midwestern" folks and I was half-right. The good thing about the nightlife in St. Louis is that some places stay open until 3 AM, with last call 40 minutes before closing time. I was also amazed at how cheap it was going out in St. Louis! One round of drinks for 5 people cost me about the same as 1 drink here in the city.

Most of the UCSF contingency left on Saturday morning/afternoon, but I thought that I'd take a later flight to play tourist. I was gonna try to go to the Arch, but apparently I had to be there BEFORE 10 to avoid the crowd, so I passed on that. I also wanted to go to St. Louis Museum of Art, which actually sounded kinda interesting: they had a very eclectic art collection as part of their permanent collection, plus they had some Impressionist/Post-impressionist paintings by Monet, Degas, Gauguin, and van Gogh ), but I woke up too late; I didn't get out of the hotel until 12:30. That and I had an assignment due on midnight Saturday that I had to finish, so I just strolled around Laclede's Landing, ate lunch al fresco while working on my assignment. There was a classic car show that I checked out; I had never been a car enthusiast, but I was able to appreciate the stunningly immaculate condition of these early to mid-century cars.

Would I ever come back to St. Louis? The weather could've fooled me to think I was in San Diego. The nightlife wasn't as horrible as I thought it'd be. So I guess, maybe. Though next time, I'll be prepared for any weird pickup lines that may come my way.

Season Three, Episode Two: A Weekend of Nuptials, Natalitial Shindigs and Nudities

2010-10-03T21:40:00.000-07:00

When I go back in time to figure out when exactly my liver started to fail me, this past weekend would probably be as good a starting place as any other time. But I guess when you have a wedding, a birthday and Folsom Street Fair to celebrate, knowledge and logic go out the window. Or at least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

The weekend started off tame enough; friend from Japan was in town until Saturday afternoon, so we had a chill Friday night, dinner and wine around the ‘hood, and had an early day anyway, since my call time was 8am for my clinic’s volunteer orientation the next day. Had to ditch that early to make it to my friend Larry and his beau’s sail boat wedding, and my friend Susan was picking me up @ 2:15.

It was such a gorgeous day for a sailboat wedding. The afternoon temperature high was in the low 90s, though a gentle breeze from time to time made sure that it was bearable.

This was the third non-Filipino wedding that I’ve been to, and the second wedding that I’ve attended that involved one of my classmates. I guess we’re getting to that stage of our lives. Oh, snap, does that mean that I have to start growing up? I digress.

The wedding party was dressed in a nautical theme, down to matching sunglasses, belts, and the whole nine, which I thought was such a classy touch (way to go, bride-zilla… ahem, Larry). Paul’s son (and one of his best men) played a Led-Zeppelin inspired interpretation of Canon in D with his electric guitar; man, that 14 year-old boy is going to be trouble (if he’s not already). The girl next to me was balling her eyes out, so either the ceremony was very sweet and touching or she was just one big crybaby; I’d say it was the former.

Sail boat weddings are such great ideas; something about being at sea (or I guess in this case, bay) and nuptials seem to just work. Maybe it’s the openness, or the symbolism of the voyage that the couple is about to embark upon, with their love acting as the main sail that will direct the course of their paths together as partners. Just FYI for those who are contemplating sailboat weddings in the future: it goes without saying that a summer wedding would probably be the best time to have it, and if you’re going to do it, that means end of September/mid October is your best bet.

On to the reception – where the real fun begins! Bubbly, you’ve always been my nefarious nemesis, and you strike once more! I had a great time with my “date” Allison even if you were such a cheap date; well, not as cheap as Susan, who was blurry after 4 sips of the margarita =p And those lemon cakes were AMAZING! Man, if weddings do one thing right, it would be cakes.

Luckily, this wedding didn’t have the usual horrors (Macarena, line dancing, YMCA), but they did do the train and I definitely didn’t partake in that! We did however, danced to some groovy music, and even did a little “Single Ladies” dancing; Liza Minelli would’ve been proud.

Bottles of champagne and endless pitchers of margaritas later, somehow, I managed to make it out of Tres Agaves alive just in time to cut in with Krystal, Katie, and Nikolai for Joel’s 25th birthday celebration at Roe the same night. At that point, I remember bits and pieces from the night, but mostly good memories. I saw my friends who I haven’t seen in awhile, so that was good.

Sunday was all about a different kind of love. I met up with my friend Vannida and her friends Gina and Katie for some afternoon delight @ Folsom Street Fair. Or as my friend Vannida calls it, “San Francisco’s equivalent of church.” Well, the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence were certainly there spreading the love and the protesters armed with their affable “Jesus-loves-you” placards certainly made their presence known.

It definitely was neither for the faint-hearted nor the flinchers, but I guess that’s just par for Folsom’s course. The rest of Sunday’s events were not suitable for children under 18 (though someone was enjoying the festivities with her baby (who couldn’t have been older than 18 months) in a baby sling; in her flimsy defense, at least it was made out of leather). Heck, for professional reasons, it’s probably not suitable for anyone over 18 for that matter. I guess you’ll just have to dig that one out of me.

Season Three, Episode One: The Crazy Things We Do for Love

2010-09-29T12:15:00.001-07:00

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Last season, on Single in the City…

Phew, another year, another season of Single in the City. Finally moved in to the condo (though no one has YET to see it; it's not ready for visitors just yet (or will it EVER be? you'll just have to stay tune). Went on locations to far-flung areas like San Antonio and Miami to check out the single life there; yep, it's the same there like everywhere else.

For a play-by-play, feel free to read through earlier entries…

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One of the wonderful things about this city is the overabundance of activities that one may partake in that caters to a wide range of interest, from the seedy to the subversive, the artistic and the asinine and everything in between.

For example, a few weeks ago, my BFF Kat, her roommate and I went to see a performance of Two Gentlemen of Verona, a free theater production ("Shakespeare in the Park")
sponsored by the San Francisco Shakespeare Festival.

Verona has the smallest cast of any Shakespearean play, and is regarded by many as one of Shakespeare's least refined, though I enjoyed this adaptation quite a bit. I like the 60's inspired songs that accompanied each act and scene transitions. My favorite parts involved the secondary actors, especially Launce and Speed, Proteus' and Valentine's servants, respectively. They provided a cynical view about love, in contrast to the idealistic and pristine beliefs that their masters hold.

As I was watching the play, it got me thinking: are we really that dumbstruck by love that we'll do ANYTHING for it? As in stab-your-friend-in-the-back, abandon-your-family, throw-your-senses-out-the-window kind of way?

Does art imitate life or is Oscar Wilde right? Tons of songs have been written about the crazy things people do for love; Madonna, Van Morrison, Michael Bublé and even my home girl Beyoncé has weighed in on this matter.

Remember when Daria got her navel pierced because of Trent? Or when Rachel flew all the way to London to tell Ross she loved him on the eve of Ross' and Emily's wedding? Ok, so I feel like I'm dating myself with my pop culture references; I'm sorry, I don't know watch that much new TV since Veronica Mars went off the air (and I'm still pretty mad about that!), except for Glee.

But I digress. I asked around a few of my friends with regards to this topic, and the results were a bit astounding. One of my friends went in great lengths in trying to provide a luxurious and pampered life to his boo, to the point of maxing out his credit cards, working overtime to try to make ends meet, and alienating his parents and his friends, only to end up being dumped a few months later. Another friend kept taking her boyfriend back in spite of his unscrupulous ways (he cheated on her a "few" times) because of her "love" for him.

Now, not every story I heard was grim and gloomy. My friend's girlfriend moved with him to China when he started med school there, despite having most of her life (family, friends, burgeoning career) established here in California; now they're closing on their 5-year anniversary, and wedding bells are probably not that far off for the two.

My own experience reveals similar patterns. I've had moments where the love that I felt for someone was consuming every bit of me, to the point where I couldn't think of anything but the welfare and wellbeing of that person, even to my own detriment at times. Which leads me to think, why would we do this to ourselves? And I'm only left to conclude one thing: love is irrational. Irrational in the sense that it seem to go against the basic evolutionary concept of "survival of the fittest." Perhaps there's more to it than that.

And another thing: what's crazy to me might very well be normal to someone else; crazy is in the eye of the beholder.

Two Gentlemen of Verona is playing at the Presidio's Main Post Parade Ground Lawn (between Graham St. and Keyes Ave.) until this weekend (Saturday, Sept 25 @ 7:30pm and Sunday, Sept 26 @2:30pm). Catch it while you still can!

Also this Sunday, September 25, from 11am – 6pm is the Folsom Street Fair, the world's largest leather event (and no, we're not talking about your grandpa's Wilson's Leather-bought ensemble). See what I mean? San Francisco DOES have something for everyone.

Episode Twenty-Two: Sex in the City 2 – a movie review

2010-06-16T22:00:00.001-07:00

The whole time Sex and the City (SATC) was running its live course on HBO, I must've seen like one or two episodes (that one episode with the guy Carrie was dating a golden shower aficionado and the other episode being the one with Carrie dating the bisexual guy). But when Target had a Black Friday sale this past Thanksgiving, I picked up all 6 seasons (season 6 was a 2-disc set, argh!) for $8/DVD. Before you know it, I was done with the last season before we hit Christmas.

For most, SATC was all about the expensive designer clothes and shoes, the glitzy glamour and the fancy life that money and success can afford strong, independent women. For me, however, the show brought up a lot of issues that are universal among all of us; how we deal with relationships and love and how we deal with the society's behavioral expectations and pressures. I think the issues they tackled during their 6-season run were thought provoking, even if at times, their methodologies about dealing with the issues were a bit sophomoric and Hollywood-ish. But for the most part, SATC managed to stay maintain a good barometer with what's going on currently, and provided good commentaries and insights.

I'm sure that you've read through the venomous and vitriolic reviews that SATC2 has received, not seen since "Gigli". It wasn't THAT terrible, in my opinion; nothing can be as bad as "Gigli". The movie was not completely devoid of positive moments. Liza Minelli's homage to my homegirl Beyoncé's ubiquitous hit "Single Ladies" was quite entertaining. The moment that Charlotte and Miranda shared as they talked about their struggles with motherhood was both touching and realistic. The dialogue is not as sharp and witty as how it was during the show's run, but there were some funny one-liners (like Samantha's "Lawrence of Her Labia" comment or Miranda's theory of universal physics that predicts the probability of a Liza Minelli appearance: the probability is proportional to the amount of gayness in a room). The eye candies were exactly that, eye candies (the Aussie rugby team, Anthony's straight brother, Nikki, played by D&G model Noah Mills, and even the silver fox Danish architect played by Max Ryan).

However, as like the first film, there was a bit of potential in terms of plot material, but sadly, these potentials were not realized in its entirety. Charlotte is dealing with the "Terrible Two's" Carrie is dealing with her "Terrible Two's" of her own with Mr. Big (Chris Noth). Samantha's dealing with menopause and her pharmaceutical version of her fountain of youth, and Miranda's dealing with an unappreciative (to put it nicely) Senior Partner at her law firm, or at least, that's what I thought it was. However, the movie flails in delving into the development of the plot, and that in the end, it felt like it was one product placement over the next.

Though I suppose, for most people who would be interested in watching this movie, it's more of a diversion from their current lives and I guess the more vapid and fluffy it is, the better? I still think the movie misses its chance to flesh out some of the laid-out storylines, to make it a bit more relevant for its viewers. Instead, we're treated with superfluous oversimplification and overt stereotypes of all parties involved. And this was one of my biggest pet peeve about this movie. One of SATC2's (and SATC the series) biggest themes was challenging the idea of normalcy, may it be relationships, fashion, or customs. But scene after scene we are treated to what the "normal" stereotype that our society holds – from the "promiscuous gays" and the "rowdy jocks" to the "sex-phobe Arabs" and the "oppressed Muslim women". And what's with the whole "Muslim women will only feel liberated if they wear Western clothing" innuendo? Not only is this crass, but mind-numbingly self-centered as well; as if we needed to promulgate that stereotype that the world has about Americans.

Also, the movie was a tad bit long. At almost 150 minutes, I felt that at times, it dragged a LOT, and that it was going nowhere. Verdict? If you're looking for a two-and-a-half-hour getaway from reality, there's a lot more things that you could do to better spend your time, but I won't completely hold it against you if you saw this movie voluntarily.

Rating: C/C-

Episode Twenty-One: Let’s Go, OK Go!

2010-06-09T00:07:00.001-07:00

It is a well-known urban legend that pharmacy students in their Acute Care block, including the General Medicine rotation, have made a silent deal with the higher powers to maintain sanity and the opportunity to make it through rotations intact in exchange for their unbridled freedom and social lives (or any semblance of a life for that matter) for 6 weeks. I for one can attest to this. But when one of my favorite bands, OK Go!, makes its way from its Los Angeles hub to this fog-forsaken city, well I just had to make an exception. Repercussions be damned.

I was really excited to see them live, since I've never seen their live show before. I have been listening to them for years, and one of the things that I like about OK Go is that they're actually artists in that they are in the music business to create art that's both visually and acoustically appealing. Who would've thunk?

Their videos are very entertaining and full of character. They have a penchant for choreography-inspired videos, as evidenced by a lot of their videos, like their first video that went viral, "A Million Ways". Yes, they're the band with the "treadmill video" (for Here It Goes Again), one of the most popular music videos on YouTube. They're also known for their outlandish videos, like the video for "This Too Shall Pass" featuring a Rube Goldberg machine built by Synn Labs and the wallpaper-inspired video for "Do What You Want".

I found myself singing along loudly to all the songs that I knew the lyrics to. I've recently downloaded their new album, "Of the Blue Colour of the Sky", so I didn't know the lyrics to the songs by heart quite just yet, though to familiarize myself (and to get "pumped" for the concert), I listened to their new album for a couple days prior to the concert non-stop. They opened with "Invincible" from their first album, Ok Go!. Thereafter, they played a good mixture of old (A Million Ways, Oh Lately It's So Quiet, Seems like a Good Idea at the Time, Here it Goes Again) and new (Needing/Getting, All is not Lost, Back from Kathmandu, This Too Shall Pass) material, performing each song with gusto and passion.

Just when you thought they couldn't get any better, they blow your pants off with something out-of-the-ordinary and wildly inventive. At first, when they brought out a bunch of hand bells and a glockenspiel, I thought, what the hey? And then as soon as I heard the first few notes to "What to Do", I, along with the rest of the crowd, erupted in pure fascination and awe.

And just how would you top that amazing performance? Of course, as the lead singer, you'd do a song in the middle of the crowd! Which is precisely what lead singer Damian Kulash did, performing "Last Leaf" from their latest album "Of the Blue Colour of the Sky" by himself as he serenaded the more-than-appreciative crowd.

They even had the crowd "choose" a song to play: either the Pixies' "Debaser" or their own song "You're So Damn Hot" (which apparently is a song they do not like performing); the tribe had spoken, and had chosen YSDM, which was great, though it would've been awesome to see them cover a Pixies song and see how they can infuse their own artistic mark into the song.

As a side note, I've never really gotten the point of having an "encore". Out of ego, perhaps? But in this case, their encore actually made sense; there was a different vibe to it. For crying out loud, they had jackets with illuminating letters spelling OK GO as they performed their encore set (WTF?, Skyscrapers, and Do What You Want) with laser guitars. Yes, ladies and gentleman, laser guitars. OH-EM-GEE. The constants throughout the performance (and the encore) were the confetti showers and the rocking performance by the group.

Was I tired beyond belief the next day? (In a Sarah Palin voice) You betcha ! But it was worth it. Best $22.50 I've ever spent. Next up, The New Pornographers in July at the Fox Theatre! I might have to brave the big bad outside world and cross the treacherous pond to Oakland to see them.

Episode Twenty: Single in the City does Bay-to-Breakers

2010-05-31T12:05:00.003-07:00

What does a responsible pharmacy student do after coming home from a debauchery-filled vacay in Miami? Why attend Bay-to-Breakers the next day, of course! First day of acute care rotations be damned!

My friend Kat, his boyfriend Mark and a few of their co-workers and friends had decided weeks ago that we were all going to "participate" in Bay-to-Breakers. We ended up deciding that "Jersey Shore" would make a timely and appropriate theme for us to coordinate to. Kat and I decided that we were going to be "Snooki". As a preface, I have never watched a single episode of "Jersey Shore" nor do I intend to. But for the spirit of doing justice to Snooki, I researched a few photos/video clips of hers, and apparently, she's really into having her hair styled in what could only be described as a hideous camel-hump-like contraption, apparently called "the bump".

I got in late from Miami the night before, and so I didn't really have that much time to get supplies to make the "bump". I thought I had left over mousse/hairspray/gel from when I used to have shorter hair; it may be hard to believe, but once upon a time, I did have shorter hair (and if you look at my driver's license photo, it's WAY shorter). Lacking the supplies, and the necessary things to tease my hair (flat iron and blow dryer; I forgot that I've always borrowed them from people), I decided that we were going to forgo the bump, and instead, to just wear something skimpy. That's still in line with Snooki's essence.

It was a bit nipply outside (a cool and crisp mid-50s was the high), especially when you are meagerly dressed, but when you're surrounded by throngs and throngs of people, it doesn't seem to be so bad. The EtOH doesn't hurt either.

Seeing that I lived a half a block near the parade turn on Divisadero and Hayes, I decided that I was going to join our crew at this juncture. I wasn't about to wake up at the crack of dawn to make it in time to Embacardero by 7:15am. Also, the Hayes Hill can be quite unforgiving (at its steepest, it's about an 11% grade), though I have been always amazed as to how the gigantic floats (which are pulled uphill manually by equally inebriated fellows) make it up the hill without rolling back and smashing the sloshed people behind it.

You had your staple costumes: the pirates, the lifeguards, the cross-dressers and the naked men, though I would have to say, I only saw five of them (which is a bit lower compared to previous years in my experience). There were a couple of standouts for me. I really liked the bikers in their Elvis-like get up, though I would have to say that my favorite costume/theme was the shuttercock/badminton group; it's so random and well put together.

In my years of doing Bay-to-Breakers, I had never gone past JFK and Conservatory West Drive in Golden Gate Park, and as I had found out, there was a good reason why; the floats exit the parade here. When you're walking that far, aside from the EtOH, the thing that keeps me going is the music coming from these floats. It's like a giant moving-street-block-party, with the locals (and the voyagers) dancing along to the same beat, if only temporarily. However, this year, my friends' after party was at their brand new pad near Ocean Beach, on 42^nd Avenue, so we trekked through the park and made it almost to the finish line, and I'd have to say that the crowd was a little bit more subdued; perhaps it was due to the alcohol wearing off or if the fatigue was setting in. However, I'd say the clam dip made it worthwhile.

Here's to hoping that next year's Bay-to-Breakers would be a bit on the warmer side and as salacious as ever. Fist Bump!

Episode Nineteen – Bienvenidos a Miami

2010-05-31T12:05:00.001-07:00

It's been a trip that I've been looking forward to for weeks, the light at the end of (actually it's more an 1/8^th) the rotations tunnel. I've never been to Miami, much less Florida, and I was beyond stoked when we finally settled on Miami as our break destination. I have a friend who lives in West Palm Beach, but she was going to be in Tampa the same week, so I wasn't going to be able to meet up with her.

The Company

Aside from me, Krystal and Nikolai (also known as Krystolai), Sara Nik, Amy and Walter, Jeremiah, Francis (Jeremiah's friend), Trevor, Devon (Trevor's friend), and Kirtan (Devon's friend from NY) made up our liver-wrecking crew as we hit Miami Beach by storm! We haven't seen each other, at least all of us, since we went our separate ways for rotations.

The Accommodation

We wanted to have a reasonably affordable hotel and at the same time, be as close to the "South Beach" scene as possible, and so we settled on Hotel Shelley, and it wasn't a bad choice at all. Sure, the hallways smell a lot like urine, or that the showers don't have a door and every time you take a shower, you create a mini-puddle. True, the rooms were a bit small, especially when you're cramming in 4-5 people to a room, but it wasn't too bad. Hotel Shelley is an Art-Deco building close enough to all the hotspots in SoBe. But the best part about Hotel Shelley, aside from its convenient location? Open Bar from 7-8pm every night, which we took full advantage of. We immediately bonded with JC, the 40 year old bartender (who looks like he's in his late 20s/early 30s) father of two (22 and 17 years old) and Gladys, who also bartends across the way at Lily's.

The food

Apparently, Miami Beach is known for its burgers! Actually, they were not, but it would seem that way, since I'm pretty sure I ate a burger (or four) a day while I was there; Krystal even brought some FatBurgers on the plane ride home. But the best burger EVER (yes, even better than In n Out – I know, sacrilegious!) has to be Five Guys Burgers and Fries! The meat is delicious, plus you get to put a lot of good toppings (grilled mushrooms, grilled onions, jalapeño peppers, and others) for free, and the fries were amazing!

We only really ate out as a group twice, once when we got lunch at a pita place (which was awesome) the day after we got in, and the other time was when we went to Sushi Samba Dromo. Coordinating feeding time with eleven people is a bit hard, especially when you wake up at different times of the day. That and achieving steady state of inebriation throughout the day was apparently higher on the agenda for the week.

The leisurely activities

The weather was quite balmy, mostly in the mid 80's, with a relaxing breeze from time to time keeping things nice and cozy. My only slight complaint was that at times, it was a bit cloudy. But for the most part, it was perfect beach weather. Relaxing in the afternoon while soaking up the rays, with a cold brewsky and checking out the scenery: a guy can get used to this.
And speaking of the scenery, man, was it a sight. There wouldn't be such a thing called a "South Beach Diet" for nothing, right? Like my friend said, when you live in a beautiful beach town like Miami beach, there's that internal and external pressure to look your best, whereas if you live in a colder area, evolutionarily speaking, you're probably more inclined to have "insulation". But what a beautiful sight! There are guys showing off in the pull up bars doing god knows how many pull ups to impress the adoring crowd. Not that I'm the one to complain.

The Life Lessons Learned

Be careful of your belongings – South Beach can be particularly treacherous when it comes to belongings. Case-in-point: someone from my group got their purse stolen, while another lost their phone while cavorting around the beach at night.
The best way to cure a hangover is to drink another drink – hahaha
Though to prevent wicked hangovers, it is probably wise to eat something beforehand, and especially avoid anything longer than a 12-hour fasting period.
Having things open until 5am can be a lifesaver
Along the same topics of a lifesaver, don't underestimate the life-saving power of a floatie
Sometimes, the best conversations you'll have with your friend is while eating questionable Cuban food at the airport.
It doesn't matter where you are – Miami Beach or Beaver Meadow, PA, as long as you surround yourself with good company, you're bound to have a good time.
What happens in SoBe, stays in SoBe, except if you took photos/videos. Those ridiculous photos/videos will live on in digital format forever in ignominy.

I live for the nights that I can't remember with the friends that I will never forget. Can't wait until our next week break in August. Did anyone say EuroTrip?

Episode Eighteen: To want and to have: one in the same or a dichotomy?

2010-05-17T21:03:00.001-07:00

Nothing ventured, nothing gained
New horizons, ready to paint…
We'd only find ourselves by
Losing all control

Beyoncé – "Control"

In life, nothing worth having comes easily; nothing worth having comes without putting some sort of effort. I'm not cynical enough to think that someone who is "too good to be true" might really just be really good, and not "too good". Though if I were a betting man (and I'm not, I'm more of a shopper/people-watcher/pool-dipping kind of guy when I go to Vegas), I'd say that yes, he is a mirage.

A few months back, I was having a conversation with one of my friends over dinner and among the topics we discussed, aside from news and current events,(the impending Greek financial doom was just bubbling under the surface then) was our recent dating adventures. I was bemoaning the idea of dating, and how hard it is to find a suitable person to date in this city, in spite of what everyone else tells me. In a city that has been historically renowned for its tolerance and that features enclaves like the Castro, Noe Valley, Folsom Gulch/SOMA, and Polk Street Gulch, the common prevailing wisdom suggests this city is teeming with potentials. The next person that tells me this will get a comprehensive metacarpal impression in the jugular vein. Ok, well maybe that's a bit hyperbolic, but you get my drift.

She astutely reminded me that I can't complain about how there's no one out there for me when I haven't put the time and effort to find that person. To which I answered, touché.

There is a palpable disconnect between my actions concerning my love life versus the rest of my life. Like I've mentioned before, I'm a bit reticent when it comes to the affairs of the heart, which is a complete departure from how I approach other things in life. Maybe it's that when it comes to love, I'm ceding some control of my happiness to another person, and that's unnerving. There is that sense of vulnerability and that inescapable feeling that I might get hurt.

Frankly, as a student, I really don't have THAT much time to be raking through the proverbial haystack for that needle. But we'll never find that person sitting around idly twiddling our thumbs. If I have one more person tell me that "it will happen when you least expect it" or "you'll find someone when you're not looking", or any variants of these phrases, I might actually implode. Oops, there's that hyperbole rearing its ugly head again.

So taking her (and my own) advice, I have been putting myself out there a bit more. I'm trying to come out of my clammed-up shell and experience the joys and pains of dating. As Beyoncé said, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

However, just because you put yourself out there, doesn't guarantee that you'll actually get what you want. There are no absolute guarantees in life (except death and taxes). Inevitably, yes, I'll get hurt. And yes, recent experiences certainly hadn't gone the way that I want them to be, to the point of me rethinking this whole strategy. But then again, isn't that just part of life? We're so afraid of getting hurt, but sometimes, the actions that we take only shield us from continued growth as a person; losing all control may be the prescriptive solution to cure our hearts' ailments. And besides, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?

Alexander Pope said it best on his "Essay on Man": hope springs eternal. What makes us go through life's trials and tribulations is the prospect of a better life ahead. So you kiss a few toads along the way, but isn't it life more about the process than the final destination?

Next week, get a double dose of Single in the City! I'll be visiting Miami Beach with a few friends this upcoming week, and one of my favorite only-in-San-Francisco-lunacy Bay-to-Breakers is this weekend, and so I will be doing some on-the-field reporting. Finally solved the Vitamin-D-deficiency plague that seems to be affecting pharmacy students, but poor, poor liver; such is the joy of life.

PS: Congratulations to my esteemed colleague, Jed Wolpaw, for finishing medical school, and for many thanks for all of his wonderful insights and perceptive commentaries that he's provided over the years as the "Lub Dub" guy. We'll miss you! Happy trails!

Episode Seventeen : Restaurant Review - Bisou

2010-05-11T00:53:00.001-07:00

Bisou
2367 Market Street
San Francisco, CA 94114
Neighorhood: Castro
415-556-6200
$$$ (out of $$$$$)
Five out of Five Stars

The lovably-huggable Chef Nick Ronin (of Chou Chou fame) does it again with Bisou, the newest restaurant in the heart of Castro. Bisou or "petit baises" means "little kisses" in French. It's about time that Nick infused his infectious and incredible persona in this neck of the woods, where pretentiousness and overpriced meals rule this fiefdom.

As usual, I was accompanied by my Chou Chou partners-in-crime Meg and Kat, and we were joined that night by Nancy (Meg's mom), Robert (Meg's friend) and his Jared. And as usual, I arrived a bit later than our 8pm reservation (though to my defense, I did warn them ahead of time). The opening night was definitely busy, even when I (finally) arrived at 9pm, there were still people waiting to get tables.

Its swanky interiors will definitely appeal to the Castro crowd. The red plush velvet has that warm and cozy feeling to it. I especially liked the mirror at the end of the "tunnel"; it was a nice touch. The fully stocked bar had stacks and stacks of beautiful bottles of liqueur. There was a second level, but I didn't get a chance to check it out; I saw pictures though (from the stills that Nick showed us when he was getting ready for the grand opening), and it looked very stylish without being overpowering.

Food preparation and presentation was impeccable, from the appetizers to the entrées and the desserts (more on that later). Bisou employs traditional French cuisine techniques and uses locally and organically grown products. The Salt Spring Island Mussels were great, though I still have a soft spot for the moulles from Chou Chou. The Beef Bourguignon was absolutely perfect; marinated for 24 hours and then braised for 4 hours, the beef really soaks in all of the rich flavors coming from the red wine broth, garlic, thyme, pancetta, mushrooms, and bay leaves. The Truffle Duck Leg Confit was so full of flavor; it was near-impossible to imbue any more flavors in the poor duck. The Steak Frites and its sauce (Bercy, Béarnaise and port shallot sauce) was so mouthwatering; the sauces complemented the meat quite delectably, and at times it was hard to choose which sauce to use.

Wine selection was commendable; compared to Chou Chou, Bisous had more California wines, and sadly, to my recollection, there was not a Malbec in the wine list. Our party had an assortment of red and white wine, but the one that I liked the most was the Grenache from Shannon Ridge, a Lake County Vineyard.

The desserts were amazing! I got the chance to meet James Choplin, Bisou's pastry chef (they're making a comeback!). And no, don't let the American-sounding last name fool you (he's from France); James can make some damn good patisseries. He pretty much told me that the Bisou experience wouldn't be complete without trying his desserts, and he was right. We got two orders of the Le Bisous pour deux, a 4-piece sampler of the desserts they offer; what can I say, we're desserts people. Each one was devilishly delectable in its own right. There was the Chocolate Caresse, a milk chocolate and caramel mouse with crème anglaise which was incredibly rich without being overpoweringly sweet. Then there was L'After Height, mint Mille Feuilles with a thin black chocolate leaf; normally, I don't like mint-flavored desserts, but this one had its way with me. The Pineapple Express was a collection of seasonal fruits with yogurt sorbet and crispy banana tuile served in a sugar glass. Patrick was not kidding when he said that the "Le Macaron" was not to be missed; French macaron, light pistachio cream, and fresh raspberries were like little drops of heaven.

Service was impressive, taking into consideration that it was their opening night. It also helps that my party knows most of the waitstaff, so it wasn't too bad waiting for the food to come. Also, as a shout-out, someone from Yelp gave a review saying that the bartender (I'm guessing Antoine) looked like Beyoncé; I would have to agree.

Bisou also offers a prix-fixe menu (from 5:30 to 7pm) for $26, something that is quite amenable to a poor starving student like me. Another plus is their kitchen is open late, Thursday to Sundays, until 1am! The menu is pared down to the "late-night" menu starting at 10:30pm, however it's still a pretty appetizing lineup: pasta (around $11), pizza (around $10ish), and Croque Monsieur/Madame (around $9ish) are a good alternatives to dining options in the Castro. For a vibrant metropolis, San Francisco needs more late-night options, and Bisou is step towards rectifying the dearth of food options.

Bisou also serves weekend brunches, from 9am-3pm. Not to be undone by other brunch places in the area, Bisou also offers bottomless mimosas and Bloody Marys. And if the thumping dance music from Lime has gotten old, a live swing band will tickle your fancies during the weekend brunches. Not to mention, you'll probably want to ACTUALLY eat the food, instead of tolerating it. I'm looking forward to having my Croque Monsieur, Croque Madame, or Omelette Parisienne on lazy Sunday afternoons.

I imagine Bisou being added to our regular restaurant rotation. It's just a bus ride down from my house, there are some holdovers servers from Chou Chou (makes reservations a breeze), and it's fairly reasonably priced. You've got a live one here, Ronin! May the curse of the Panam/Frisee/Crave be lifted from this amazing space! Maybe all it needed was a little Bisou!

Season Two, Episode Sixteen: The Art of Letting Go

2010-04-15T20:17:00.001-07:00

Persistence versus wishful thinking/stupidity... When does one end and the other begin? Or are they just different sides of the same coin?

In life, how do we know when to persevere and when to give up? When do we fight on and when do we throw in the towel and wave the white flag?

For the most part, I would say I'm pretty realistic. I know my capabilities and my (ever increasing) shortcomings, and so, in most endeavors that I encounter, I can assess whether or not the task on hand is within my grasps, a bit of a reach, or has a meteor-landing-on-your-house probability of happening.

One of the things that I've learned to let go were grades. Coming into undergrad, I was that typical Honors/AP student, the go-getter and overachieving type. That big fat C in General Chemistry fall quarter of freshman year was all it took to derail me from that "straight A's" train that I was so certain I wanted to be a part of. At that moment in time, I had a realization that while grades matter to a certain extent, it wasn't the "end-all-be-all" that I thought at the time, and that learning was more important that regurgitation. It's not so much that I lost the will to persevere to get the good grades. I just came into the realization that it was displaced wishful thinking to strive to have a letter grade represent my capabilities.

These past two years, when I took on what seemingly were too many responsibilities, I definitely had my trying moments. I'm the first one to admit that there were times where I felt I was a bit over my head, overwhelmed with the responsibilities that came with each position. But I was confident in my abilities and my resolve, and even more so, I was confident in my support system. Sure, there were times when I felt like giving up, but I had my friends' and family's unrelenting support and I was able to get through some rough patches.

When it comes to relationships (or potential relationships), I'd like to think that the same axiom holds true for me. However, to me, it becomes exponentially murky and befuddling. It's always a see-saw battle of giving up versus fighting through, but when I fight through, more often than not, I feel like I'm swinging with my one of my hands tied behind my back, an eye patch on one eye and in a really foggy area in the midst of a vast quicksand.

To make matters more complex, I tend to be ATTRACTED to a lot of people, but when it comes to LIKING someone, I'm a bit more selective. So, when I actually find that SOMEONE that crossed the attraction threshold into the "like" category, I tend to pursue it like there's no tomorrow, to the occasional chagrin of some of my friends.

In terms of relationships, how do I know when to give up and when to keep pursuing someone? How often must we put ourselves in a vulnerable position to find out the answer? How often am I willing to stick my neck out and put my ego on the line? For me, I think about the potential gains versus the perceived risks, but more importantly, I think about the person that I'm interested in and see if he's worth all the "trouble". At the same time, everything is magnified, every text message overanalyzed, every Facebook status update scrutinized, every brief encounter replayed over and over searching for clues to lead me one way or the other.

I don't have all the answers; I might never do, but one thing is certain: I won't pretend that I know all there is to it about relationships, and that's where my trusted friends enter the picture. Sometimes, when we're involved with someone, we can develop myopic viewpoints and tangential conclusions; getting a different perspective from another person that you trust can only help. Not to say that I solely rely on their inputs to dictate what I do (last time I check, I still had a functioning brain), but I definitely take their opinions into consideration.

So you ask why not just ask straight up, right? As much as this is what I would do in any other situation, sadly, as I've been told by countless friends, the "games" are necessary evils, especially in a budding relationship. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that concept; the jury's still out on this one, but for now, I'll begrudgingly play along.

I'd like to say that I have the relationship quagmire as figured out as other aspects of my life, but sadly, this isn't the case. Is it worth all the trouble? I'd like to think to think that somewhere in the galaxy, there's that person that will make all that persistence worth it. Here's to hoping that I've found him already.

Season Two, Episode Fifteen: Intern in the City

2010-04-11T18:52:00.001-07:00

The last few weeks have been kind of a blur. I remember taking my last Therapeutics final EVER. Then there was that 20 minute Health Economics final. Then I remember having my Therapeutics Oral Exam with Dr. Lee about a patient who has a cryptococcus infection. Then somehow, we were all done.

It was a bit anticlimactic. We had different scheduled times for the Oral Exams, and since the Oral Exams were our last final EVER, we all got done in different times. But for the most part, it was surreal. I've spent the last 8 quarters with my classmates, trudging through 8 am classes (some during our third year! How unfair is that!), frantically reviewing (or in some cases viewing) notes for an upcoming exam and having the time of our lives as we traverse through pharmacy school with a wonderful city like San Francisco as a backdrop (or in some cases, a critical co-star). And now the moment has finally come when we went our separate ways, albeit temporarily. For most of them, the next time we'll see each other will be during Graduation (in May 2011). I am one of the "lucky" ones to call San Francisco home for the next 9 months for rotations, but some of my dear friends have been assigned to the other satellite rotation sites for UCSF like Davis, Fresno (Fres-YES!), LA/OC, North Bay, and South Bay.

However, it felt good to be finally be done with didactic learning! Well technically for me, I still have a quarter left of classes (since I'm part of the Health Policy and Management pathway), so not really, but for the most part, we've all reached the point where we can apply all the theoretical knowledge that we've managed to soak up (or cram in some instance) and practice it in real-life patient interactions.

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't nervous about this impending change. Rotations are a big deal. We're not playing with made-up patient cases anymore, so if I forget the dose on the test, in the grand scheme of things it's not that big of a deal, but now, we're dealing with actual people now, with presenting cases that are not as clear-cut or as neatly arranged for us. There's no "problem list" for us to look at and know what to deal with. For the most part though, I was very excited to start rotations. I'm the kind of person that learns a lot more effectively when I put concepts into practice.

So far, my life outside of pharmacy didactic learning is going well. For my first rotation block, I was assigned to Ambulatory Care for 6 weeks then followed by a week break, and then my General Medicine Acute Care block for 6 weeks. The last two six-week block will be my electives (Acute Care Pain Management at VA-SF, and Hospital Administration at SFGH).

After talking to a few of my classmates, I'm definitely glad that I started my rotations with Ambulatory Care. Coming into it, I've heard that it is a very doable rotation; not necessarily easy, but manageable. If this past week is a barometer, I'd say they were right on. I'm extremely happy so far with the clinics that I was assigned to. One of the things that I like about the Ambulatory Care set up is that I get to talk to patients one-on-one, and I get to manage their disease states or any acute disease they may be presenting with. Mostly though, I like the way the patients are receptive to our efforts, and that they are active participants in improving their health.

I'm partially dreading my upcoming block, because if it's anything like how my friends/classmates have described it, it'll be a seemingly impervious uphill climb a la 3^rd Avenue proportions. Heavy patient load (working up 18 patients a day is not unheard of), unreal expectations, copious amounts of stress and circling thoughts of imbecilities and uncertainties are all in a 12-hour-day's work (if not more). And you wake up early the next day for the next 5 days, and press repeat for the next 6 weeks.

But I feel as though this first six weeks will only help me prepare for the worst. I say this now, but we'll see if I'm still standing after this block.

PS: Last week's column was in fact an April Fools' Day edition of Single in the City. So, for the record, I'm still NOT engaged, and I didn't fly out to Milan. If only.

“Relapse” – Single in the City: Season Two, Episode Fourteen: Trouble in Paradise?

2010-04-01T00:08:00.001-07:00

Last season, on Single in the City:

On Thursday, while we were enjoying the sunset at the cliffs, out of nowhere, he dropped in one knee (I know, how traditional of him), revealed this beautiful bracelet (because he knows I'm not a big fan of rings), asked for my hand and said "I'm yours forever, will you be mine?"

That was one of the happiest moments of my short but topsy-turvy life. The moment when Antoni Diamante asked me to be his forever. I didn't think I could feel that mushy, but in that instance I did, and every time I wear my Czech-glass-bead-adorned-bracelet, I do.

"Calm continueth not long without a storm." – Unknown, 1576

Oh, the engaged life, it can be fickle at times. On top of that, trying to live out a long-distance engagement makes life a bit more complicated.

It's been about year since Antoni and I have been engaged. For the most part, things are going well between Antoni and me. He finished his PhD Fellowship in Architecture from Sapienza Universita di Roma this past summer, and he was quite fortunate enough in this global economic climate to secure a plum position as an Associate Architect at Mario Bellini Associati (the same firm that has secured prestigious appointments such as the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, the Tokyo Design Center, and the Museum of Islamic Art at the Louvre in Paris). Being a new associate to the firm, he's trying his earnest to make a good impression, and with it comes long hours, herculean tasks, and demanding clients. Needless to say, he is a bit short on time. However, he has made the effort of visiting me twice since he's moved to Milan for work. And we try to schedule a weekly Skype chat session to keep contact, though the 9 hour difference can make making time for a weekly chat a struggle at times. But again, anything that's worth having is worth all the work, right?

So you may ask yourself, what IS the problem? The last time he was in town, it was a week before my finals. I told him that I won't have much time to hang out since I would be busy freaking out and cramming for my last Therapeutics final. And also, it happened to be that the Saturday before my finals week was MHC's third monthly clinic.

Anthony is a volunteer at the clinic that I work for, MHC. He's a member of the Executive Committee (to which I am a part of also), and as such, we see each other frequently. We've also developed a friendly relationship, which would've been the source of contention as it turned out. I am the first one to admit that he's quite the good looking medical student that he is, but beyond that, there's nothing between us.

Antoni has seen a few photos of Anthony and I on Facebook (the evil big brother strikes again!) and there were some photos that were, in hindsight, a bit too friendly. Nothing scandalous or Lindsay-Lohan-esque, but viewed from a different perspective, it can be seen being suggestive and bubbling with intrigue. We'd talked about him before, and I thought we've ironed that problem out, but as I was about to find out, those pictures still bothered him.

When I told him that I have clinic that Saturday, he asked me who was going to be there. I didn't mind the question, but I answered it anyway. He asked if he (Anthony) was going to be there. I said: "yes, but why does that matter?" That's when he blew a gasket.

A simple argument turned into a full-fledged fight. That was the first time that I had ever seen him jealous. As in hopping mad, fuming-in-the-ear jealous. We had plans to spend my 11-day spring break in San Francisco, but he left for Milan 13 days early.

I thought of doing a "grand gesture" by flying to Milan during my spring break, and at first, I decided against it, mostly because of the hefty price tag that little act of love would've cost me (a shade under $1500). Was J-Lo right? Shouldn't love not cost a thing?

In the end, I ended up hopping on a redeye flight from San Francisco to Milan via Munich. When I finally tracked him down a few days later (he went to his grandparents in Tuscany), we hashed it out. He said that he needed a bit of time to think things through but that he still cares about me. Did we rush into this whole thing? Were we too blinded by that whirlwind winter romance two years ago in Paris? These were the questions that he had on his head, and the ones that he's looking for answers to in our time apart that he's requesting. He apologized for acting so brashly, but that at the time, that's how he felt. I apologize for not taking his feelings, and I understood that he needed time to figure things out.

Maybe because I was upset, maybe I was tired or maybe I thought my life my shattering, but as I was going through the security gates in the Malpensa Airport in Milan, I took off the bracelet, and as I was doing so, the bracelet snapped and the glass beads scattered all over the security checkpoint area. Was this a sign that things between Antoni and me are over? I want to believe that I can still repair the bracelet. There's still a chance of rainbow after the storm.

Episode Thirteen: Loan Repayments, anyone?

2010-03-27T22:10:00.001-07:00

Instead of "cramming" for my Health Economics final, I opted to attend the lunch hour talk "Successful Strategies for Loan Repayment", hosted by the Student Financial Aid office and co-sponsored by the Student Activity Center. The featured speaker was Jeff Hanson, the Director of Borrower Education Services with Access Group. I was glad that I went; it was a better use of my time.

I pride myself in being able to take care of my financial responsibilities, but one of the things that I've not really put that much thought into was how exactly I was going to repay my student loans. All in all, I'm looking at a $140k+ incurred debt, including my undergraduate loans.

The Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program sounds enticing; the way it works is that you need to have worked full-time (working on average of at least 30 hours/week, or the number of hours the employer considers "full-time") for a total of 120 months in a "qualifying public service position" AND you've made 120 qualifying loan payments on Federal DIRECT Loans during period of qualifying public service employment. The "qualified" public service organization include federal, state, or local government organizations/agencies, and most charitable non-profit organizations (those that have received a 501(c)(3) designation from the IRS). The 120 months of full-time work and the 120 payments do not have to be consecutive. Fulfill those requirements, and the rest of the loan is forgiven. Sounds simple enough, but I'm not counting on this to make the debt disappear.

Jeff also went over the different repayment plans for Stafford, Grad PLUS, and consolidation loans: Standard (fixed), graduated, extended, income-sensitive and income-based repayment (IBR). The standard repayment schedule is a fixed payment structure for 10 years; the good thing about this plan is that you will incur the lowest total interest but the bad thing about this is that you'll have the highest initial payment. The graduated plan is a tiered payment structure for 10 years, with interest-only payments initially, and incremental increases on payment, with monthly payments not exceeding THREE times greater than any other payment ("3 times rule"). The extended repayment plan is a fixed or tiered payment structure for 25 years, with one of the lowest initial payments and NO income considerations. To qualify, the debt must be >$30,000 (I have MORE than that) and the loan must have been originated after October 1998 (that's still me). Income sensitive repayment (ISR) has an annually adjusted payment structure for 15 years based on Total Gross Income. ISR is also subject to the "3 times rule", and eligibility and payment amount is re-evaluated every year. IBR also has an annually adjusted payment structure, this time for 25 years, and is based on household Adjusted Gross Income (AGI), household size, poverty guidelines and State of residence. The poverty guidelines are based on the amount of debt, so for me, according to the 2009 Poverty Guidelines, the maximum AGI needed for me to qualify for IBR ($140k in debt), is $145,135, assuming a 6.8% interest rate, a household size of 1 residing in one of the 48 contiguous states. Also, to enter IBR, the borrower must have "partial financial hardship".

After listening to the speaker, I'm leaning towards using IBR or the extended repayment plan. One of the things that I took away from the talk was the idea of debt as a portfolio. I plan on using inflation to my advantage on this one. $140,000's value now is not going to be the same value 10 years or 25 years from now. I can use the money that I would save on the monthly payments and appropriate it to my other needs, perhaps increasing my retirement fund contribution, putting more on investments or having more disposable income.

To view the presentation and resource materials that was offered on March 16, go to https://finaid.ucsf.edu/events/117-successful-strategies-loan-repayment

Student Financial Aid is offering additional debt-management services this year. For additional information, please contact Annie Osborne, Resource Adviser, Student Financial Services at annie.osborne@ucsf.edu or call 476-4181.

Season Two, Episode Twelve: My Foray into Short Stories

2010-03-04T00:23:00.001-08:00

In honor of Synapse's annual Tabula issue, I've decided to share the short story that I've submitted to NPR's "Three-Minute Fiction Round Three: Picture This", entitled: The Crossword Puzzle. The premise of this contest was to write a 600-word or less short-story inspired by the picture above.
Let me know what you guys think!
---

To the outside world, twenty-five year old Chase De Argento seems to have it all: cushy job in the biotech industry that's both intellectually stimulating and financially stable? Check. A two-bedroom townhouse overlooking La Jolla Shores? Check. Voted by 944 Magazine as one of San Diego's most eligible bachelors in 2009? Check.

So when his job required him to relocate to the Bay area, he had his trepidations. He was leaving the life that he's known and grown accustomed to. His immediate relatives, with the exception of his paternal grandparents who still live in their villa in Tuscany, are all in San Diego. He was well-established in his career, and has a good close-knit of friends that he's relied on through the years.

However, this relocation opportunity also presented itself in an auspicious time. He was still reeling from his recent failed relationships; the most recent was his twenty-two-month-fairy-tale-love-affair with Marco Esposito, an Ivy-league educated curator for the San Diego Museum of Art whom he caught canoodling with one of the ushers during a gala benefit. As far as he can remember, he's always been in a couple; before this, he has not been "in the market" for longer than a couple of months. He's going on 8 months now and counting.

Chase found a 1-bedroom apartment within walking distance to Dolores Park, which made his move to San Francisco a bit more palatable. One of the prerequisites he had was that he wanted to live as close to a tennis court as possible; he was UPenn's #3 singles player. The other thing that he looked for was the perfect coffee shop.

However, it took awhile for Chase to find his "zen" café. He tried out a few places around his neighborhood. H Café: Too bland. Maxfield's House of Caffeine. Too pretentious. Then he stumbled upon Tazza D'Amore: it was love at first sight.

Maybe it was the mouthwatering scones or the paninis. Or perhaps the home-y feeling that reminded him of his Italian grandparents. But most of all, he enjoyed the serenity and the anonymity the coffee shop provided him. Aside from the staff whom he got to know well, he enjoyed being able to sit by his lonesome and not be bothered.

Each Saturday morning, he'd sit at his favorite spot, a red table for 2 near the windowsill, with his trusty copy of New York Times in tow, sipping on his chai tea as he filled out the crossword puzzle; this had been a tradition of sorts for Chase. He would normally fill out the crossword puzzle with his boyfriend as they enjoy a sumptuous breakfast in bed.

At first, he could barely fill out half of the crossword puzzle. Maybe he depended too much on someone else to do the work for him? Week after week, he had a few clues that were the bane of his existence. One week, it was 20 across: "Bears, in Barcelona", and 58 down "Where the Ucayali flows". The next week, it was 15 across "On the briny" and 34 down "Scores for Comaneci".

Finally, on an unusually warm February, he finally completed a crossword puzzle. As he wrote in the answer to 36 across, "Me, _ _ _ _ _ _, and I", Chase got to thinking: "maybe it's time to try the Sunday's crossword puzzles?"

Maybe being alone isn't so bad after all.
---

Season Two, Episode Eleven: Review: “Valentine’s Day”

2010-02-22T20:47:00.001-08:00

For the Hallmark-created "holiday" also known as Single Awareness Day, err, I mean, Valentine's Day, I decided to watch Valentine's Day with a couple of my single friends. Coming into the movie, I wanted to keep an open mind since inevitably, I would be comparing it to Love, Actually.

Comparison to Love, Actually is inescapable. In the interest of full disclosure, I happen to thoroughly enjoy Love, Actually, and so I had hopes (though slightly dampened) about Valentine's Day; after all, in my experience, the US adaptations usually falls short of the originals (for example, Ringu (The Ring) , Abre los Ojos (Vanilla Sky) and L'Appartement (Wicker Park) among others).

Directed by Garry Marshall (of Pretty Woman and The Princess Diaries fame) and screenplay written by Katherine Fugate, the whole movie unfolds during Valentine's Day as it follows the lives of several couples, and their stories are told through the seemingly benign interconnections they have with each other.

The movie presents the clichéd conundrums about love that people face; there's the "love-between-two-best-friends-who-don't-know-it-yet", the "we've-been-together-a-long-time-but-I-have-a-secret-that-can-ruin-our-relationship" scenario, the "I-have-a-girlfriend-AND-a-wife" quandary, and the "grade school crush" dilemma.

What was billed as an all-star cast surely is; Jessica Alba, Kathy Bates, Jessica Biel, Bradley Cooper, Eric Dane, Patrick Dempsey, Hector Elizondo, Jamie Foxx, Jennifer Garner, Topher Grace, Anne Hathaway, Ashton Kutcher, Queen Latifah, Taylor Lautner, George Lopez, Shirley MacLaine, Emma Roberts, Julia Roberts, and Taylor Swift are featured in this ensemble film, which is quite a casting coup for Deborah Aquila and Mary Tricia Wood. And therein lies my biggest pet peeve about this movie: too many stars in one film. This all-star overload at times made me feel like the movie was one long cameo after the other.

Most of their stories are half-baked (maybe even quarter-baked?) and underdeveloped. There wasn't enough time devoted to dig a little deeper into the characters and to engage the audience to invest some emotional attachment; I couldn't care less about most of the characters, even if I wanted to. The movie's attempt to address the commercialism of Valentine's Day falls flat and doesn't register. In some ways, the chosen setting of this movie and the script reflect the stereotypical image of how Los Angeles is perceived as: shallow, disjointed, full of hopes and dreams, all rolled up in a ball of sunshine and smog.

Sure, they try to throw in a few kinks here and there, and I would have to say that there was ONE thing that I didn't see coming, but for the most part, the twists were telegraphic and thinly-veiled.

And I know this is a movie, but the suspension of disbelief can only go SO far. Raise your hand if can fathom for one second that NO ONE in Los Angeles would like to date someone like Jessica Biel's character, Kara Monahan. And while we're at it, can we give Patrick Dempsey a role that doesn't involve him being a doctor? The poor guy's going to be type-casted. And what was Queen Latifah's purpose in this movie? Waste of a talented actress. Same thing can be said about Kathy Bates. And don't even get me started with Jessica Alba's character, Morley Clarkson; I know why she was there, but really?

For what it's worth, the movie was entertaining at its finest moments, dragging (a rom-com should NEVER be longer than 90 minutes) and relentless at its worst. The standouts for me were Julia Roberts as Capt. Kate Hazeltine, Anne Hathaway as Liz, an aspiring writer with a salacious way of paying off her student loans, and Shirley MacLaine as Estelle, a retired actress with an impending wedding vow renewal with her husband Edgar, played by Hector Elizondo. Honorable mentions go to Taylor Swift, who was quite entertaining as the ditzy high school dance student (even with this good performance, she's still not out of the dog house for that Grammy autotune-less "performance") and Bryce Robinson as Edison, the gradeschooler stung by the love bug for the first time.

Is Valentine's Day worth the $11.50 for the movie ticket and the 2 hours of your life? Let's just say that I won't be buying the DVD, but if TBS is running a Sunday afternoon movie marathon, I might be persuaded to sit through it.

Grade: C-/C

Season Two, Episode Ten: The World Wide Web of Dating

2010-02-11T11:50:00.001-08:00

Beta-max, Sony Walkman and floppy disks: What do they have in common? Marvels in their own time, but pushed out of ubiquity in favor of the newer and better available technologies. Could the "traditional" way of dating be next?

Through the years, the popularity of online dating sites like Yahoo!® Personals, Match.com and eHarmony.com is on the rise. According to a 2003 U.S. News and World Report, in August of that year, 40 million unique users visited online dating sites in the United States, about half the number of single adults in the US, and in all likelihood this statistic figures to have grown in today's time. Successes of the sites like Match.com and eHarmony.com have spawned off copycat sites like Amor.com, Gay.com and Shaadi.com, sites that cater to a wide range of interests and audiences.

OkCupid is another dating website, a site the Boston Globe calls "the Google of online dating," and New York Post declares "a perfect example of the Web 2.0 revolution." In many respects, it's a bit similar to other well-known dating sites like Match.com or eHarmony.com in that it tries to "match" its users. The way they do this is by having each user answer questions, both generated by the site, and by its own users. The big difference between OkCupid and other sites is that they rely HEAVILY on mathematical algorithms and analysis as the basis for their match percentage calculations. And it takes into account basically everything that a user does on OkCupid, from the number of messages sent and replied, to how often and when a user logs in, and the way the user answers the questions to generate a match percentage. And the best part of it all is that most of the site is FREE!

With this in mind and in the interest of full disclosure, I myself have partaken in this societal exercise. Come to think of it, I was a bit hard pressed to think of the last person that I was in a relationship with that I have met NOT using the interweb (for the sake of completion, we were in the same dance group when I was a senior in college).

The way that OkCupid works is that like other social networking sites, you have your profile, and it lists your basic information, hobbies, favorite books/music/food, the six things you could never do without, and other pertinent information. Then you can peruse other peoples' profiles, and if there is a connection there, you can either contact them via email, or if you're a bit reticent, you can send them a "wink" to try to get a conversation started.

I guess, subconsciously or consciously, we put our best foot forward when we write our profile pages. Many people have different ideas and different interpretations of what that phrase, "best foot forward" actually mean. Some people use the opportunity to show off their literary or artistic prowess, while some opt to show off their adept skills in sarcasm.

One of the advantages of online dating is that in theory, it makes the whole process a little easier. In many ways, sites like OkCupid streamline the whole dating process. This statement may come across as if I think this makes the whole online dating process more sterile and devoid of sentiment; that's not what I'm saying. You get to look through people's profile and see if there's anything there that piques your interest. For the most part, for me, it's not so much that I "know" if I'll get along with the other person. It's more that I'll "know" if the person has interested me in any level , enough to cross the threshold and warrant an email or a wink. In theory, it's a good allocation of precious resource (time). Pharmacy school surely has not helped in this regard. The tough curriculum and other school-related-extracurricular activities (and many more self-imposed forms of masochism) have left me with virtually no time to branch out and just live. When I can "weed out" potential non-matches, the likelihood of waddling through bad dates after bad dates is, in theory, dramatically decreased. It's just good allocation of precious resources. Now, there does exist the risk that I can disregard a particular profile when in fact, he would be something that I would greatly get along with. For now, that's the risk I'm willing to take.

The last couple of dates that I have had from people that I've met online have both been successful to an extent. Successful in that the first dates had lead to a second date, which led to a third date, but I guess after that, online dating can only take you so far? There are things that don't come across from an online profile that you can only ascertain from having a face-to-face interaction. "The game" is not just played out on cyberspace, but lived out in real-life as well.

The verdict? The question is not "is online dating the wave of the future? " because it's already here, and more and more people are getting in on it, but rather, has the time come to where online dating will be the predominant. Methinks that for now, online dating works for me and where I am in my life right now and in the near-term, but the "traditional" dating is not going out by the way of cassette tapes just yet.

Season Two, Episode Nine: Running Away with the Circus, Part Deux

2010-01-29T23:41:00.001-08:00

Last year, I wrote a column about Circus Center; that time, I (partially) overcame my irrational fear of heights and was mesmerized by the instructors as I glided through the air and learned a few trapeze tricks. This time around, I got to do a little bit of a behind-the-scenes look into Ovo, the Cirque du Soleil show that concluded this past Sunday here in San Francisco.

Another reason why being a Synapse editor rocks: aside from the modest monetary compensation, one-of-a-kind opportunities present themselves from time to time. Those, and comped tickets! I mean, how often would you get a chance to go backstage to an event?

Fredericka was our tour guide for the day, and she's got that lively and bubbly personality fit for a PR person. She showed us around Cirque du Soleil's version of a self-sufficient mini-village; they bring everything with them, even generators to power the entire village. She dutifully informs my entourage other Cirque trivia tidbits, like the number of pieces of costumes the designer, Liz Vandal, and her team have created for Ovo (1500), to the number of Trampoline Olympiads they have as part of the cast for Ovo (Two).

We got also got a sneak peek into the performers' practices; we saw the adorable ants perfecting their craft as they spun blown-up piece of kiwis and corn using their feet. At first, they appeared to me as spectacularly solid, but not necessarily amazing; they definitely blew me away come game time. We also saw the trapeze artists practicing on stage; they were definitely a treat.

She showed us around the artists' lounge. This is where we met and interviewed Robyn, one of the characters in Ovo. Here, she plays the black spider, and she describes her character as being "reclusive" and "a little bit sexy, a little spicy, kind of evil, like the evil quirky stepsister" (to the red spider). "This is my character that I've created. It's really me. It's who I am, but a little bit exaggerated," Robyn adds.

This is Robyn's first traveling show; her former Cirque performances have been permanent residency shows (Mystère, Zumanity, and Love), all based in Las Vegas. Any positives and negatives on life on the road? "On one hand, life is a more simple; no worries about having to pay rent," she replies. On the other hand, she misses the amenities of Las Vegas, like showers in her dressing room, and extra space for her toiletries and products.

One of the many things that I fancy about her is her unique background. I would've thought that most performers come from ballet, or that they're former Olympiads (which are the cases for some of the Cirque performers). Yes, she did have formal training in other dance disciplines (salsa, African, swing, etc), but what captured her attention was breakdancing. She was living in Fort Collins at the time, attending Colorado State, and what drew her to breakdancing was the "free-for-all" atmosphere that it provided for her. She also radiates this reserved confidence without appearing smug or condescending. That's something that I aspire to do.

If there is anything that a pharmacist and a performer have in common, it's the fact that we're both in a no-mistake business. When I do see them mess up, more than anything, it just reaffirms to me that after all, they're still human, and what they're doing out there is outrageously out of this world; it makes me appreciate their show a bit more. "People look at us like we're these robots and inside this box, but dancers and performers are some of the zaniest, wildest people out there," Robyn answers. But just like a pharmacist, performers are bound to make gaffes from time to time. She said that she's had her fair share of them, ranging from a falling headpiece to "wardrobe malfunction" (she's forgotten her shorts on her dress). The difference between her and me is that for the most part, if she messes up (or thinks she messed up), she can play it off as an artistic flair; mine plays off as a medical malpractice claim.

Also, like some pharmacists, performers can go through monotonic and repetitive periods at work, like when they do shows 6 days a week, two shows in one day at times, as in the case for Robyn. How does she deal with this? "That's actually one of the big challenges: to keep it fresh. There's always room for improvement. I analyze my performances, and I find that there's plenty of stuff to work on."

Another thing that I relate to Robyn with is that she and I are both surrounded with extraordinary talent. How does she deal with this? "If you're in Cirque, it means you're really something. It's pretty cool to be around such talent. We do get used to it, like 'Oh he's just hanging from one finger. That's just what he does.' But it's pretty important to remember that we are special," Robyn answers.

I would think working in such close quarters for a prolonged period of time with the same people would breed either animosity or amorosity. "Whether there is drama or not, we still have to come here and perform the show," Robyn quips. She's also got the amorosity covered; she met her fiancé during her stint in Zumanity, been together for 5 years, and just got married this past Tuesday!

Towards the end of our interview, I asked Robyn if she would be willing to teach me a sequence. She happily obliges, and gracefully gets up in the practice wall. The first sequence that she did went way over my head; I didn't even attempt to do it, the fear of falling down from the wall and being crushed like a squished bug was a bit much to overcome. The second sequence was a little better; it involved using my (nearly non-existent) arm strength to prop myself up from the rocks while doing some neat leg sequences.

If you didn't get a chance to see them here in San Francisco, it's not too late! They're still here in the Bay Area; you can catch Ovo under the Grand Capiteau at Taylor Street Bridge in San Jose. Performances run from February 4^th to March 7^th.

Season Two, Episode Eight: New Year, New Beginnings

2010-01-19T00:33:00.001-08:00

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never Is, but always To be blest: The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come" – Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man.

There's something about a new year that energizes people: perhaps it is the feeling of optimism at its peak, a feeling of starting anew with a clean slate, or a sense of a renewed opportunity to become better versions of themselves. But too often, these expectations are set so high; that in itself is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it's good to push ourselves to the limit, but on the other hand, expectations are set so high that ultimately, are we leading ourselves into disappointment or failure?
And you know what else accompanies the end of the year/the beginning of a new year? Top ten lists. And as if we needed to be bombarded with more top ten things (even more obnoxious ones since we've just ended a decade), I'm stoking the flame even more with my own version. About.com has a Top Ten New Year's Resolutions, and you had your garden variety of the most common resolutions taken up by people like you and I. Let's see how I stack up against these resolutions:

Spend more time with Family and Friends
This one I can definitely relate to. I rarely see my family in San Diego. The last time I went home before the holidays was the summer prior. Now that rotations are right around the corner, it would be a little bit harder to come home (no more skipping school to get an extended stay in San Diego), but what I will try to do this year is call and check in more.
For the past two and a half years I've been a bit neglectful in the "friends" category as well, especially those friends that I've had before starting UCSF. Pharmacy school tends to be a sucking vortex of time and energy, and it was hard at times to coordinate schedules, since we run on what it seemed like different calendars. Plan of action: set aside at least three Sundays a quarter for my bffs and call them more often.
Fit in fitness
Check and Check with this one. Since last summer, I've been actually quite good with making sure I've made time to exercise. Even during winter break! I did a 7-day free pass at a 24-Hour Fitness near my house, and I went almost every day. Now, with rotations looming in the horizon, I'm not sure if I can still do the everyday thing, but this would be one of my resolutions for the upcoming year.
Tame the bulge
I'm ok in this department, though I'm sure I'm still carrying a bit of the holiday weight around. I can stand to lose a few holiday pounds, or as my friend calls it "a human evolutionary adaptation to inclement weather." Weight goal: lose 10 lbs of fat and gain 5 lbs of muscle. And don't even ask how much I weigh… lol… I look deceivingly thin.
Quit smoking
I'm a student pharmacist… I can definitely help anyone quit smoking if they're willing and able ;)
Enjoy life more
This one is a very Chinese-fortune-cookie kind of resolution. What does that even mean? Don't answer that, it's supposed to be rhetorical.
Quit drinking
Does drinking wine count as drinking? Lol… Seriously, ever since I've lived in Paris, I've always associated a nice lunch/dinner with a glass of wine. Does that make me alcoholic? Sophisticated? I'd like to think the latter.
Get out of debt
Good luck to me on this one. I just took on a mortgage debt! Though as one of my friends have pointed out, it's not REALLY debt; I would be paying someone's mortgage anyway if I were to rent. But other than that, everything seems to be in order financially; the credit card debts are manageable, but will be paid off soon, I hope! Though the holiday shopping season was exceptionally brutal for me (in that I spent a bit more than I would normally), the incurred debt was nothing that I wouldn't be able to pay off in a month or two.
Learn something new
I'll give this one a whirl. Over the break, my friend and I threw around the idea of sharing a Rosetta Stone CD and try to learn Chinese! Maybe we'll be successful.
Help others
Check and Check with MHC's monthly clinic. I'm super excited for our first clinic day this Saturday, January 9^th.
Get organized
Ha! on this one… I'd like to think that I have my own way of organizing things. What may look like a pile of mess is really an intricate labyrinth; organized chaos, I call it.

Aside from these ten, I have a few ones that I'd like to try out

No new shoes in 2010
I feel like I'm approaching Imelda Marcos-status with my shoes. It needs to stop. Or at least take an extended hiatus. I have a few of them still in boxes waiting to be worn.
Try to be punctual
Double Ha! on this one. But seriously, I'll try to be less late. Latest example of my fashionably-late act: over the holidays, my high school friends and I scheduled a dinner date at a Thai place in Hillcrest at 5:30. A few of them showed up a little earlier than 5:30; I showed up at 7:15. I know, bad… At least I told them I was running a bit late, and as a sorry-for-being-late gesture, I did buy the table tom-kah soup.

Season Two, Episode Seven: The Tales of Black Friday Shopping

2009-12-04T23:10:00.001-08:00

What would possess someone to wake up in the crack of dawn or to camp out outside a brick and mortar store? It's the prospect of getting a "great" deal, or getting that elusive and must-have "IT" toy. That's the allure of Black Friday, one of the biggest shopping days of the year. I saw a news story on TV during Thanksgiving dinner of some people camping out at Best Buy a DAY before Thanksgiving!

I used to be one of them. Two years ago, a couple of my friends and I did the whole camping-out-at-Best-Buy thing for Black Friday. During Thanksgiving dinner, we were casually talking about the sales and the big savings that we would get, and joked around that we should camp out at Best Buy to get in line for the doorbusters; that year, they had a few good items for sale, and I had my eyes on the $350 desktop package (desktop+lcd monitor+ printer), a $300 laptop for my sister and the $99 camera w/ a 4x6 digital photo frame, final exams be damned.

We got there around 11pm, and already the line at the Best Buy in Harrison St was around the building. We were determined to get our deals, and so there we were, flashcards in tow, studying for our CP final, freezing; we took turns in taking naps, though the naps were very short-lived. Thank God it didn't rain that year, or it would've been a disaster (apparently it was misty this past Black Friday).

Around 4am, they started passing out "tickets" for the big-ticket items and for the doorbuster deals. Alas, all of that waiting, and we didn't get the ticket for the laptop; we did get the tickets for the camera and the desktop package, and for the $99 TomTom GPS.

It seemed like forever, but mercifully, the store finally opened at 5am. Calling it mayhem is a severe understatement. Finding the things that we wanted to buy, trying to get the Best Buy associate's attention and waiting in line to pay were all an "invigorating" experience, to put it nicely.

This year, coming to my senses, I did my "Black Friday" shopping while wearing pjs at the comfort of my own bed; no need for getting tickets, bumrushing the electronics section, waiting in a colossal line to pay or lying awake in the cold pavement, trying to keep warm. From Walmart, I got a PS3 bundle (PS3 120gb Slim, 2 PS3 games (Batman and inFAMOUS), Batman Begins Blu-Ray movie, and a Blu-ray remote control) for $358, including tax and shipping; factor in the Bing Cashback, the price is whittled down to ~ $310. I also bought the Beatles Rock Band Limited Edition deluxe (regular price $249) from Dell, for $199+tax with free shipping ($218.40), and with the Bing Cashback, it became ~$178. Also from Dell, I bought the Ooma Scout (a VOIP service that allows for free calls using your internet connection) for $229+tax+free shipping, and with the Bing Cashback, it came out to about $205. From Ebay, I bought two PS3 wireless controllers for $20+$6 shipping - 10% Bing Cashback, for a total of $24!

So you ask, what's this Bing Cashback that I've been talking about? Bing is Microsoft's web search engine, or as they describe it, a "decision engine", and allows users to search for products and get pricing information from multiple vendors. Bing has partnerships from venerable brick and mortar merchants like Dell, HP, Walmart, Macy's, Sears, and Home Depot as well as online stores such as Buy.com, Overstock.com, and Tigerdirect.com, and the cashback bonus varies from 2-10%; this past Thanksgiving holiday, Bing had a promotion, entitled "Bing Gold Rush" that increased their cashback bonus; AT&T and T-Mobile's cashback bonus was at 35%, while Lenovo, Dell, and HP's cashback bonus was at 20%. That's some serious discount, folks!

I realized that while Black Friday still offers a great discount, it's just not worth all that extra time and effort braving the elements while waiting in line for hours for a store to open. Now, with the advent of Bing Cashback, buying stuff online during Black Friday through Cyber Monday just got a LOT cheaper!

Season Two, Episode Six: Yes, I’ll have an order of that plate of BS

2009-11-19T13:26:00.001-08:00

Jed Wolpaw of the LoveDub fame has got to be one of the best column writers that have graced the pages of the Synapse through the years; it's one of the first things that I read when I proofread copies every Tuesday. His last week's column, entitled "As Advertised", is chockfull of his trademark East-Coast-like humor. However, I took a particular "disliking" to his assertion that "we dress, shave, and perfume ourselves up for one main reason (to attract a mate). Maybe it hit a little closer to home, or that I felt that I was being called out. But for me, I like looking good for the sake of looking good.

Just to make sure that I'm not completely off-base, I asked around my friends to try and get a bigger perspective and to make sure that 1) I'm not completely crazy and 2) I am not alone in this thinking.

I usually go out with a group of friends when I go out, and the LAST thing that I'm thinking about is trying to pick someone up. Maybe it's the superficiality of it all, or maybe the dim lighting + the state of inebriation does not make for a good combination, but I just don't think that we are putting our best foot forward when we're out and about at clubs and bars, at least in terms of finding a mate; a mate for the night, on the other hand, now that's a different subject.

There's a certain truth to the saying "you are what you wear". Like it or not, the way that we dress plays a role in how other people perceive us and plays a pivotal role in the formation of first impressions. And the way that we dress is "dictated" by the environment that we are presented with. For instance, I would dress differently if I were going to a charity ball versus if I were to play ball.
When people complement me for what I'm wearing, it makes me feel good. Whenever I have exams, I try to dress up. My self-confidence goes up; I can do anything. Even if I didn't do so hot on the midterm, at least I looked good doing it.

I actually like going shopping by myself. It's one of those solitary moments that I treasure. When I go shopping for clothes, there's three things that I consider; 1) the price, 2) if it looks good on me (good fit, good color, etc), and 3) if it matches with clothes that I already do own. The "This-shirt-should-bring-all-the-boys-to-the-yard" phrase is not part of my vernacular, nor does it influence my shopping decisions.

How about them not so-single ladies and gentlemen? Does the extra effort to get ready, to look nice, a sign of possible mischievous concoction? Does the fact that you have a significant other preclude you from attempting to look your best, especially when you go out with your friends on a night out?

Now, I'm not saying that he's completely incorrect; I'm sure that there are people that do put the extra effort for the purposes of attracting potential mates. Of course, when you have found that potential mate, it is well within reason to put in the extra effort to look your best. I just think that this dilemma is more of the "chicken-or-egg" variety.

I still heart you Jed, aka LoveDub guy, but apparently not as much as I heart myself.

Season Two, Episode Five: West Fest Provides Only a Faint Echo of Woodstock

2009-11-09T23:03:00.001-08:00

One of the many things that I love about San Francisco are the outdoor festivals that seem to be going on throughout the year. This past weekend, hundreds of San Francisco stars and musical luminaries performed at Speedway Meadows for West Fest, commemorating the 40th anniversary of Woodstock Festival.

I was volunteering for the health fair that was being held at the concert site in the morning, and I didn't think that I was going to miss out on much, figuring that the bigger events will be going on later on during the day. The two things that I was looking forward to seeing was the tribute to Jimi Hendrix, who headlined the festival in 1969 (3,000 guitar players were going to try to break the World's Record for the Largest Guitar Ensemble playing "Purple Haze"), and Ray Manzanek from the Doors; unfortunately, both went on stage while I was volunteering for the health fair.

Serves me right for not looking up the lineup online.

I did get to hear Native American folk/rock artist Jeremy Goodfeather, who's apparently up for a Grammy for Best New Folk Artist. I'm a sucker for acoustic sounds, and he had that rock-star-soothing voice. I also got to listen to some sick afro-beats while I was dancing with a hoop. At first, I couldn't do it for longer than a few seconds, but I got the hang of it as the song wore on.

The weather cooperated quite beautifully with the event. It's the classic San Francisco October, our own version of the summer. While testing people's blood glucose levels, I felt that my face was burning up because our tent was exposed to the always-welcomed presence of the sun.

I also got a chance to look around the festival to see what was going on. One of the more curiously interesting displays they had was a replica of the "Love Bus", complete with a complementary oatmeal raisin cookie! I overheard a conversation with the "Love Bus" owner and one of the inquisitive festival-goer, and it seemed that the "Love Bus" owner had a little bit too much of the "60's experience" to be cognitively coherent. There were a variety of booths catering to the "hippie" crowd: legalize marijuana petition, henna painting, hemp products and the like. There were also some entrepreneurial people selling their home-made brownies, hemp clothing and accessories and drug paraphernalia. There was also a banana-costumed man passing out Jamba Juice coupons, and a tin-man posing for photos with whoever was interested.

For part of the health fair, I had a box of condoms, and I was handing them out to fellow festival goers. If I have to do a hair sample drug test, I'm almost positive that I'll fail due to the immense second hand exposure that I've managed to accrue while I was walking around.

Which got me thinking, to what extent does this festival reflect on the original spirit of Woodstock? How relevant is this festival today? As it is now, the '60s were turbulent times; Woodstock was that pivotal moment of realization not just for that generation but for the country as a whole. Artists were empowered to make a difference and spread that message through the masses through their music. Have we gotten too complacent in the world that we currently live in? As I watched over the crowd as the performers spat out their generic message of love and peace, I saw glazed looks. Yes, I think that festivals like West Fest are great in bringing like-minded people together but I'm not sure the result is what I expected. It's probably too much to ask that the Woodstock spirit be re-captured, even with 3,000 guitars on hand, channeling Jimi Hendrix.

Season Two, Episode Four: “Single in the City” Invades San Antonio!

2009-10-18T16:17:00.001-07:00

The Academy of Manage Care Pharmacy's Educational Conference was at San Antonio this past week. I was excited and scared at the same time; excited because of the conference, excited and scared because it's in San Antonio. I didn't really know what to expect, though the one thing that I did know beforehand was that it's quite humid and hot.

Sure enough, right when I got off the airplane, the humid 85-degree weather greeted me (my flight got in from LA a few minutes before MIDNIGHT); it reminded me a lot of the Philippines. I thought, "Oh, no! If it's going to be like this, I'm going to melt." The very next day provided no relief. Our hotel was about a half-mile distance away from the Convention Center, and we elected to walk to the conference. The walk itself wasn't that bad; it allowed us to enjoy the San Antonio Riverwalk scenery. We walked past the Alamo and strolled past quaint store fronts and interesting museums (Texas Ranger Hall of Museum being one of them).

One thing that is amusingly admirable about San Antonio and Texas in general, is their unabashed self-love for their state; that and their propensity to make everything BIG. Everywhere, I saw manifestations of Texas in every manner; Texan flags adorn light posts, we were even served Texas-shaped chocolate covered cookies for crying out loud!

The conference itself was quite exciting. I've been to other pharmacy-related conferences before, so I had some preconceived notions on how things were going to run. The AMCP conference, in a nutshell, was anything unlike the other conferences that I've been to. They actually have coffee and tea services every morning; they serve lunch and have afternoon beverage services. Most importantly, their sessions were quite informative and relevant to me and what I want to do; the overarching theme was the impending healthcare reform. The residency showcase actually made me contemplate about completing a residency program; before this conference, I was about 0.001% wanting to do a residency period; now that's about 51%.

After the conference, after dilly-dallying about where we wanted to go for dinner, we ended up choosing to go to Rudy's, a well-known Texan Barbeque restaurant chain. With the help (?) GoogleMaps, we were able to get directions to find this elusive restaurant, and so off we drive. We drove for what felt like eternity, only to come up empty handed! The directions were a bit confusing, and we tried to call the restaurant (from the number that we got from Google), and all three numbers were not picking up. We just ended up going to the County Line, which was two blocks away from our hotel.

Afterwards, our small UCSF contingent met up with other conference goers at Pat O Brien's. From the outside, it was unassuming enough; I didn't know what to expect. It looked pretty small from the outside; after paying our $5 cover, I was quite surprised by the size of the place. There were a few rooms, offering different vibes; there's a piano bar, an outdoor patio playing blues/country, and upstairs was a dance floor playing hip-hop music. Who knew that Texas caters to all tastes?

Will I come back to San Antonio? Perhaps, but I can definitely live without the humidity, so I'll probably visit again in the winter if I ever go.

Season Two, Episode Three: Staycation in the City

2009-10-18T16:10:00.001-07:00

Now, as you're probably perusing the pages of Synapse, you'll see pictures of people's vacation this past summer. A few of my friends went all over the place; some of them went to Asia (Thailand was a very popular destination among my friends this past summer), while others wandered through Europe (jealous!) and South America (double jealous!!). I didn't have such luck. I had similar intentions (I was planning a last-minute South American excursion: Bogota, Inca Trail, Mendoza, Buenos Aires, Iguazu Falls, and Rio), but since this whole condo thing worked out, I placed my vacation plans on hold for a bit.

At first, I was a bit bummed; ever since my semester abroad at Paris, I've been bitten by the travel bug. My mom tells me that since I have a mole in my left foot, it means that I love going places and that I can't stay in one place for too long (She also tells me that my mole near my mouth means that I like talking, so maybe there's some credence in her old wives' tales). It gave me a chance to get to know the city that I call home a bit more. There's a lot more to San Francisco than the areas tourists frequent.

This past summer, I was a bit of a nomad. For a while, I was crashing at my friends' place all over the city. One of my friends that I stayed with (Kat) lives in the Presidio, a few steps from Baker Beach (yes, THAT beach…). I've visited her a few times in her place before, but I've never spent an appreciable amount of time there. It's definitely a different side of San Francisco. The difference is strikingly obvious and actually, at times, it felt like I was worlds away; nary a bumbling bum in sight, no syringes in the pavement. It was a very peaceful place to call home, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, but yet not too far away from civilization; there's a bus that infrequently services Presidio and its surrounding areas, but it's best to have a car when you're up there. It's a very outdoorsy kind of place, and the people that live here reflect that; I saw a bunch of Campershells and bike-racks on people's vehicles.

This is when I met Jonathan and Vannida, a twenty-something couple that lives above Kat and her boyfriend Mark. One night, after a long day at work, Kat and I decided to make drinks to wind down. As I was looking around her cupboard and her fridge, I noticed that we were a bit short on mixers (we had the alcohol part covered), and the bottles of tonic water that she had were flat, so I went around her neighbors to ask for some juice or tonic water. Jonathan and Vannida had just moved in a few weeks prior, and Kat hasn't formally met them. Just like Kat and I, Jonathan and Vannida are SoCal transplants, and right away, we were chatting away as if we've known each other for years. Vannida just graduated as a Business major from Humboldt State and Jonathan is an avid surfer, and he's gone all over the world pursuing his exhilarating but increasingly expensive hobby; last March, he was assigned to work in Bali for a few weeks (he work as an environmental engineer) and ended up staying a few months to surf. When I told him that I've lived in San Diego for almost eight years, and I can count on one hand how many times I've surfed, he was flabbergasted and offered to take me surfing whenever I want; he had tons of boards from me to choose from, all I had to do is get a wet suit (and yes, I definitely would be needing one, knowing how frigid the waters here are). I've yet to take him up on his offer, but when I do get some free time (I wonder when that would be), I'll get right on that.

Afterwards, I lived in a sublet apartment a block away from 24^th and Mission for a little bit. The Mission is one of those places that induce strong feelings in either direction; you either absolutely love it or loathe it. You can count me on the love side, that's for sure. Whenever I have friends or CouchSurfers visiting, I always show them around here. When I think of the quintessential San Francisco, one of the images that come in my head is an afternoon spent in the Mission. If I were artistically-inclined, the Mission is that kind of place that would inspire me to paint or write songs. What does it for me is the cultural vibrancy that is a hallmark of the Mission district. I loved meandering down Mission Street, perusing through the different shops, and eating street food.

My Sundays were leisurely spent taking in what the Mission offers the best: food! I must've gained 10 pounds living in the Mission for a month, but my tummy was quite happy! There are so much different kinds of cuisine to satisfy discerning palates. A few of my favorite restaurants in the city are actually found in the Mission: Foreign Cinema (French Brunch place), Red Café (Mexican Diner), Dosa (Indian), and El Farolito (Mexican). I actually had some Chinese food and it wasn't half bad!

Next post, Single in the City goes to San Antonio! My fierce cowboy boots will fit right in!

Season Two, Episode Two: Alice in Leather – Sights and Sounds of Folsom Street Fair and Alice 97.3’s Now and Zen concert at Golden Gate Park

2009-10-05T12:47:00.001-07:00

Where else can you enjoy an incredibly toasty afternoon drinking Jamba Juice while perusing through an assortment of leather cuffs and then afterwards heading over to a top-40 concert? Only in San Francisco. Reason #3915 of why I love San Francisco: there's a variety of things to do, catering to a wide range of interests and predilections. Case-in-point: My fun-filled weekend.

Right off the bat, things got interesting at the Folsom Street Fair. As we were walking in, one of my totally straight friends (who, like me, is a Folsom Street Fair virgin) got a cupful and overly-friendly greeting from the doorman. I guess that was a preview of what was to come.

It was tamer than I thought it was going to be, but some of the imageries were not for the faint-hearted. You had your garden variety of leather-clad citizens milling about, their choice of beverage on hand. Some were wearing weather-appropriate amount of leather while others had full-body leather suits. It was swelteringly hot that day, and I could've only imagined how much hotter those people felt with the leather on. There were a few "display" booths, and the first one that we stumbled upon was quite "captivating", to say the least. It was a pay-for-an-S&M-experience booth offering bondage, spanking, mild strangulation and the like, with a la carte pricing ranging from $5-$25. Further along was a freakishly life-like sex doll exhibit booth offering assorted models; for $6000 + shipping, they could be yours! There was also a game of half-naked Twister sponsored by Steamworks.

Titanmen, a gay adult film company, also had a booth and they were giving away calendars featuring their film actors. At first, I wasn't sure what the commotion was all about; I saw a Jeep in the tent, so I figured it was a drawing of some sort. I ended up getting an autographed calendar from JR Matthews, a Titanmen exclusive actor. I'm not familiar with him or his work, but he seemed to be a pleasant young man.

Like other street fairs in San Francisco, there were live music and a dance stage. My favorite image of Folsom was of this dancer performing in a cage hoisted up by a crane next to a church! Talk about sacrilegious! I was half-expecting the ground to part and swallow all the debauchery that is defiling the face of the earth.

After the Folsom Street Fair, I met up with my friends at Golden Gate Park for Alice 97.3's Now and Zen concert. Talk about a change in venue. My friend who went with me to Folsom saw a runner running without a shirt on, and she was half-expecting him to have been naked.

As we were circling the parking lot, my friend was texting our other friend to tell them that we were just looking for parking (which took what seemed forever). She told us that the last act, Train, was about to perform. At first, I was a bit disappointed because I missed Dashboard, but apparently, they only performed 3 songs. Coming into the show, they were the only ones that I've heard of, aside from Colbie Caillat who was apparently really awesome too!

I had no idea who Train was in the beginning; apparently they're from the Bay Area. But song after song, I found myself singing along to some of their songs (Drops of Jupiter, Calling All the Angels, When I Look to the Sky, Ordinary). Patrick Monahan, the lead singer from Train, was really good live, plus he's quite entertaining to boot. At one time during the concert, he actually went into the crowd and took a few pictures with the crowd.

It was a really nice day at Golden Gate Park to enjoy good music and excellent company. Next week is Lovefest, which is going to knock my socks off! I'm hoping for similar weather next weekend, but I'm not going to hold my breath.

Season Two, Episode One: Escrow in the City

2009-09-23T22:20:00.001-07:00

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Last season, on Single in the City…

A lot of things happened last season. You learned all about my travels around the world last winter, about my experiences about doing things on my own (going to a wedding, eating at a restaurant, rowing at Stow Lake), and 25+1 neat facts about myself. And for the record, I'm still single, and NOT ENGAGED. I still had people come up to me congratulating me for being engaged.

For a play-by-play, feel free to read my earlier entries in this blog.

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What a summer indeed. In an otherwise work-dominated summer, one major life event happened to me. No, I didn't get married, unlike what some people who thought I was still engaged to the Italian hottie would think. I'm in escrow for a condo in the city!

And it almost never happened. In total, I must've had submitted over 10 offers to different properties before my offer was accepted. Sufficed to say, it was a very frustrating process. All but two flat out rejected my offer, due to other significantly higher bids from other buyers. I was the backup offer for the other offer I submitted that didn't get rejected, but that didn't work out either.

I had set myself a deadline. If there was nothing in the works by the end of August, I told myself that it wasn't meant to be. At the same time, I didn't want to settle either; I wasn't going to buy a place for the sake of buying a place. I wanted to be happy about the location, and it had to make sense financially for me. There were properties that I saw within my price range that I probably could've gotten earlier, but something just didn't feel quite right. There were a few condos in Oceanview that were really affordable, and I actually liked the units themselves, it's just too darn far. There was this other 3 bedroom/2bath in Bayview Heights that was in pristine condition, with upgraded kitchen and a deck that was cheap, but again, location played a factor. I already have issues making it to school when I lived in Mission Bay; I don't think a 50-minute bus ride to school every day would help the cause. I was about ready to give up and pursue the other alternative: an impromptu month-long South American adventure. I actually already started looking at flights and almost pulled the trigger.

Then about mid-August, this less-than-300-square-foot "1-bedroom" condo unit in North of Panhandle (NOPA) was listed for $209,900. I've been to the building before; I went to an open house on another unit that was also for sale a couple months ago. I say "1-bedroom" because technically it is, with walls and a door separating the kitchen area from the living area, but the kitchen area is best described as a "1-person" kitchen. When I first saw the listing, I was a little apprehensive, because it's quite small, square-footage-wise, but I wanted to see the place for myself. After all, places in this city are notoriously small.

When I saw the place, I liked it immediately. For starters, it's in a great location: a block away from Alamo Square (I finally get to live near a tennis court! Playing on a regular basis is another story.), it's off of Divisadero and Hayes. Lots of restaurants and cafés in the area. Plus, four blocks down is Lower Haight, a bus ride up and down the hill I can get to the Castro, a bus ride up (as in all the way up) Divisadero is the Presidio, and school's about a 15 minute flat-surface bike ride! Plus, the 101 (yes I did say THE 101 and not 101, thereby showing my SoCal roots), is not too far off of Octavia, so that's another brownie point. Divisadero Street being a main thoroughfare, I feel like I can walk around my hood at night and feel safe, and at the same time, since my unit faces away from the street, I don't get the congestion noise. And there's a farmer's market a block away on Sundays!

Inside, it felt a lot bigger than the county-recorded square footage. Ten-foot vaulted ceilings certainly help the cause (one of my definite pluses about this place). Another must-have for me are hardwood floors. I never got the SoCal fascination with carpet; it gets dirty easily, and it traps dirt and other yucky stuff. This place definitely had hardwood floors, in espresso color. Bathroom is proportionately sized; enough room to mill around, but not necessarily enough to do Pilates or anything like that. I have tall windows too, which is always nice. Other good things about this condo: rooftop access (did anyone say rooftop barbeque for my housewarming?), laundry room (don't have to lug my dirty laundry to a laundrymat), and a garden area (thinking about planting my own veggies!).

Financially, it made sense for me, because my monthly mortgage payment, with HOA fees, taxes and insurance, comes out to about $1400. Well, some might scoff at that number, but considering I was paying $1000 a month for rent, this doesn't sound too ridiculous. The added benefit of property tax and mortgage interest write offs and the $8000 refund from the government helps out quite a bit with the difference. Plus, my agent is giving me a rebate from his commission. Ultimately, what made it a great deal for me is the added 3.5% (of the purchase price) credit from the seller towards closing costs. So, I only have to come up with enough money for my down payment (3.5% of the purchase price) and the transfer tax (about $2000). From working like crazy this summer, plus what I had saved up last summer and the parental contribution, I had enough to cover all the costs.

So now, I'm in escrow, and my agent says that if everything goes as plan, I should be receiving my keys by mid-October (fingers-crossed), but I'm probably not going to move in until beginning of November (I was thinking of painting my walls, and doing some minor HGTV-inspired renovations before moving in). Anyone up for helping me paint?

Episode Twenty Three: Season Finale – Homeowner in the city?

2009-05-29T00:52:00.001-07:00

When I told people that I was going to buy a house, some people looked at me like I'm crazy. And it is a bit crazy. I started the process a few weeks ago, in the midst of all my midterms. But now that I think of it, it's kinda funny how I got to this point.

It all started with my housing debacle. A couple of months ago, it was housing contract renewal season at Mission Bay. I had decided to renew my 3-bedroom apartment lease at Mission Bay even though I knew one of my roommates was moving out (she's moving closer to Parnassus next fall). I figured it shouldn't be that bad finding one roommate.

But after I've renewed my lease, my other roommate told me that she's moving in with her friend. So, I was kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place. For a while, I was trying to find two people to fill the spot, but ultimately, I decided that it'll be too hard to find two roommates that can move in at the same time that my current roommates are moving out, so I decided to cancel my lease, and signed up for the waiting list for a studio/one bedroom at Mission Bay. The rates for studio are as high as $1300/month and it can go up to $1800 for a one bedroom apartment!

Right around the same time, we had our rotation lottery assignment. For the longest time, I wanted Davis as my rotation site, primarily because the project that I wanted to do (I'm in the Health Policy and Management Pathway) required a lot of MediCal data analysis, and so being in Sacramento would make it easier. Plus, my friends all were putting Davis as their top choice, so that was another incentive.

Not getting the Davis site rotation plus the looming possibility of being homeless gave me the motivation to look into buying my own place here in the city. When I was telling my friend that I pay close to a $1000 for rent and that I'm considering getting a one bedroom rental for $1800, she told me that for a HOUSE, her payment is $2000, and it's a 2 bed/2 bath with a yard; well, granted, it's in Antioch, but still!

So this got me thinking. I am definitely going to be in San Francisco for two more years, at least. I did some calculation, and I would come out ahead buying a house vs renting after 2.8 years, after tax considerations (writing off mortgage insurance, closing costs, mortgage interest), inflation, etc. Also, it's a good time to buy a house at the moment, if you have the resources to purchase. Fortunately for me, I have saved up a bit of my summer internship salary, and in addition to my mom's generous financial contribution, I would be able to afford the 3.5% down payment required for an FHA loan. From what I've gathered, San Francisco real estate has been quite steady and according to a few real estate agents that I've talked to, has not been as affected by the swoon in real estate prices as compared to other parts of the country. The $8000 housing stimulus tax credit is a nice little reward too. Most importantly, I wanted a concrete reason to stay in San Francisco.

So, for the past few weeks, I've been consumed with looking into housing possibilities. Trying to get paperwork done for pre-approval was a bit of work. Since I don't have a high enough income (though my credit scores are good), I had to get my sister and her husband to co-sign with me. Trying to get an agent was another big deal, though in the end, I can say that I have a good one. He follows up on me pretty regularly, and is easily reachable.

Even with an agent, I've done A LOT of research on my own. I've gotten myself more than familiarized with crime maps, investment analysis, house market values, and mortgage rates. I've made use of a lot of real estate websites like ziprealty.com, trulia.com, redfin.com, krunching.com, and countless of real estate blogs to get a better feel for the market and to better educate myself about the whole process. For every potential house/condo that I was interested in, I had my agent run a Comparative Market Analysis (CMA) on each property to gauge how much to put in as our first offer. I also asked him to get disclosure packages so I know what exactly I'm getting myself into if I get the house.

The very first property that I saw, I fell in love. It was a tiny studio TIC unit off of Harrison St in Inner Mission, seven blocks away from SFGH. Everything was upgraded, with hardwood floors, stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, tiled bathroom, and it even had a wooden deck, for $160k! That's unheard of in this city! Granted, it was probably about 350 sq ft (not including the deck), but it was pretty nice, and frankly, I shouldn't have that much space (I'm such a pack rat). Sadly, an investor swooped in and bought all four units, and so, I wasn't even able to put an offer for it.

I started looking for other places that I can afford. For my self-imposed limit (under $350k), there are not that many places to look at, which I guess is a good thing and a bad thing at the same time.

Surprisingly, there are places around the city for that price range, even in Nob Hill (ok, it's a teeny tiny studio, but I can live with that!). But most of the available houses/condo in my price range are in Outer Mission, Silver Terrace, Bayview, Bayview Heights, Hunters Point, Excelsior, and Ingleside Heights. It worked out in a way, because most of these places are not as foggy as Parnassus (with the exception of Ingleside Heights). After seeing the different houses (I must have gone to more than 20 houses) and seeing their neighborhood, I've eliminated Bayview and Hunters Point from my search; it's too far from the city center, and it would be a pain to try to get to school (though, currently, I'm not doing so hot in that department, even with living in Mission Bay). The grittiness of the neighborhood also played a part, though not as much. Crimes do happen everywhere, as I have found out using the SFPD's Crime Map. In the past 90 days, there were more crimes in the ¼ mile vicinity of campus compared to a portion of Bayview Heights!

So now, there are a few properties that I'm eyeing, and I think I'm about to put in a few offers. Hopefully, with my column next year, I will get to write about my new home! Stay tuned!

Episode Twenty Two: Running away with the circus: Life as a flying trapeze artist

2009-05-29T00:48:00.001-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, Vida and I were lucky enough to get this story assignment, visiting the San Francisco Circus Center and trying out their flying trapeze lesson. That's one of the nice things about being a Synapse editor; aside from getting paid, you get to do lots of cool things with little or no-cost.

Who would've thought that there's a circus school near UCSF, let alone two of them? Housed in a former high school gymnasium, the Circus Center is, in the words of Michael Kesselman, the general manager of Circus Center, a "world-class facility" and one of the elite circus centers in the world with instructors from all over the world (Quebec, Mongolia, China) who have toured with different troupes worldwide.

I have a clinically undiagnosed acrophobia, not anaphylactic-bad, but still bad enough to give me the goose bumps and the knee trembles, the queasiness and the stomach knots every time my feet are not touching the ground. But I said, what the heck, what have I got to lose, right? And besides, I'm wearing a harness, and if I fall, there's a safety net and a cushion to catch me.

Before we got up, we were given an on-the-ground training on what to do when we're up there. We were taught the basic commands that we needed to listen to and do each command sequentially. Simple enough; it didn't seem so bad when we were on the ground, and I thought this would be pretty easy!

When I was climbing up the ladder, I can feel my hands clamming up, my heart beating faster and faster. The platform sure felt a lot higher from up there than it is from the ground. Not only was it higher than I thought, it was smaller than I thought.

There's a certain method to the madness that is trapeze-flying. First, you hang on to the railing, and then you thrust your hips out as you reach out for the swing. Then with your other hand, you grab the bar, and when you're ready, your hand that's holding the platform will join the other hand in the bar. Then you bend your knees and jump off! There were definitely a few times when my nervousness would get the better of me and I would go back a step or two, which is apparently NOT what you're supposed to do.

But the people that work here were so encouraging and gave you confidence. I swear, they all have soothing voices that melt your irrational fears away, urging you to adopt a "jump off the high dive, stare down the barrel of a gun, pee into the wind" mentality. It also helped that all of the instructors were pretty good looking. Jennings, with his piercing eyes, Scott, with his silver-fox looks, and Jan Damm from Maine… Hot Damn… seriously.

The first trick that we learned was the "knee hang". On command, you lift your legs up and place it on the bar, then on the next command, you drop your hands. Then on the next command, you bring your hands up, followed by dropping your legs down. It was a bit harder doing it up there than it was down on the ground. But eventually, I got the hang of it, and was able to manage to do serviceable knee hangs.

The second trick that we learned was the "back flip". We didn't learn it at the ground first, but Jan Damm explained what we needed to do; on command we swung forward, backwards, forwards, and then touch our knees. I failed miserably the first time I tried it; I rushed my movements and I didn't flip at all. The next time that I did it was a lot better, if I may say. I looked at the grainy TiVo-like recording of my trick, and I was thoroughly impressed of my performance; it looked pretty legit!

For the next few days, as forewarned by Jan Damm and Scott, I was pretty sore. My bingo arms were hurting the next day; I worked out muscles that I never knew I had. But it's all good. I had so much fun doing it that I am inclined to spend $42.50 for an hour and a half drop-in lessons on Saturdays from time to time, but not enough to leave my day job, as Scott did (he graduated from UC Berkeley with a degree in Genetics and had work at a lab).

Episode Twenty One: Rites of Passage of a San Franciscan

2009-05-13T01:46:00.001-07:00

It was bound to happen sooner or later. A few Friday ago, I was heading off to work, and since I was running late, I decided to drive to work. Big mistake. Trying to find a parking spot in the Castro on a Friday afternoon/early evening is like trying to find that proverbial needle in a haystack. The probability of getting struck by lightning three times in a row is probably bigger.

After driving around for 30 minutes, I finally found a spot on 18^th Street, just past Church. To my horror, when I got off work, I couldn't find my car! For a while, I was on denial, thinking that I must've parked somewhere else. Then I got melodramatic, thinking that my car got stolen. The grim reality finally set in; as I looked up, covered up by the trees, a sign read: "Tow-Away Zone: No Parking from 4-6pm".

To make myself feel better, I met up with my usual Chouchou's cohorts Kat and Meghan, and ate and drank my sorrows away; there's nothing better than their freshly baked pies, and if their pies couldn't have made me feel good, I don't know what could have. And let me tell you, that was the tastiest $368 (towing+ticket+taxi) piece of pie I've ever eaten.

As I told them my sad story, we got to talking about how we all have gotten towed and that getting towed is one of those "rites of passage" of being a San Franciscan. This got me thinking: what other experiences are uniquely San Franciscan? You know you have lived in San Francisco when:

You've gotten a parking ticket

Yeah, I know, you can get a ticket anywhere, and not just in San Francisco but I swear, I think the meter enforcers in the city are on top of it like no other. Either that or I'm just extremely unlucky. Once, I parked in a meter and had put enough coins for an hour. When I got back an hour and 5 minutes later, there it was, my little $50 present, stuck in my windshield wiper, and no, it's not a flier for an underground rave. At least, I haven't gotten the "curb ticket" or the "street cleaning ticket" that I know a lot of people have gotten. My friend Jan got ticketed while she was in front of her house.
She tried to contest it, to no avail. Well, I guess that taught her an expensive lesson.

You've spent an afternoon with the homeless, the yuppies, les
artistes, the drug addicts, the octogenarians and the trendsetters, all in one place, and you enjoyed it.

Of course, I'm talking about spending a lazy Saturday afternoon at Dolores Park. You'll see people with their picnic baskets and blankets, paper-bag-covered refreshments in tow and enjoying the sun. And afterwards, walking down to Bi-rite for some delicious ice cream!

You've walked across Golden Gate Bridge

Ah yes, the quintessential symbol of San Francisco, the bridge that launched millions of tourists' sails. As tourist-y as it sounds, the 1.7 mile walk is a refreshing way to experience the "bridge" experience. As an added bonus, you can park on the San Francisco side, walk across and enjoy the San Francisco view from the Marin side, and not have to pay for the toll!

You've spent a whole summer wearing a sweater

My friends Heather and William found this out the hard way last summer. Visitors from Detroit, they had this outrageous idea that California is warm, so they've packed only summer clothing. For the most part, they were correct. Before heading out to San Francisco, they spent a few days in San Diego and LA, and they got to experience what the California Sun feels like. Alas, they didn't have such luck when they got here. They ended up buying overly-priced "San Francisco" hoodies at the airport so that they wouldn't freeze to death.

You've eaten a carne asada burrito at El Farolito's

Our softball team goes here after our games. By far, this is the best Mexican food I've had in the city, and it goes toe-to-toe with San Diego's best. Their meat is pretty good, and the prices are reasonably affordable.

You've participated in Bay-to-Breakers/Castro Block Party/Stern Grove Concerts.

These kinds of events make you realize what a unique city San Francisco is. Bay-to-Breakers is a riotous concoction, a perfect blend of zany and outrageous, and it brings out the creative juices out of its participants. I had a few favorites from last year, including the "red-plastic-cup" group and the purple float with a DJ spinning some pumping dance music. With the "no-alcohol" rule, we'll see how tame this year's B2B will be, though I must say, that in the past, they said they were going to crack down on the au naturelles, but the cracks are still visible. In the summer, coinciding with the PRIDE weekend, Castro has a huge block party capping off the Dykes in Bikes parade on Saturday. All sorts of people come out for this event, and the streets are filled with happy people dancing their hearts out. Also in the summer, Stern Grove in Golden Gate Park hosts free concerts in the weekends. This year, I'm excited to see Roberta Flack and Les Nubians perform.

Episode Twenty: Restaurant Review: Chouchou's

2009-04-08T23:35:00.001-07:00

Chouchou
400 Dewey Blvd
San Francisco, CA
415-242-0960
Five out of five stars

A few episodes ago, I made a list of my favorite places to dine in, and apparently, I must have made a colossal mistake by not including Chouchou’s. Pronounced shoushou, this little French bistro in Forest Hill is an absolute find, a polished gem hidden in a somewhat odd place to have a French restaurant, right across from Laguna Honda Hospital (which still gives me the Haunted-House-eerie vibes every time I pass by it), smack down in the middle of residential homes.

I’ve been to Chouchou’s previously, but it was under a different management. This time around, I went with Kat, whom I went to Paris with, and Megan, her co-worker and my dear friend who makes THE best chicken schnitzel and green beans casserole EVER.

Megan was friends with Nick Ronan, the owner of Chouchou’s, so reservations were a breeze, especially for a Saturday night. We elected to be seated at the bar, so we can people watch and so we wouldn’t feel bad for taking up prime real estate for too long. Chouchou’s definitely have the Parisian bistro vibe, right down to the close proximities of tables that you’d have to be a skinny Frenchie to get through.

We got started with a bottle of white wine, the name of which is escaping me at the moment. I’m not a huge white wine fan, but given that we were going to have mussels later, I made an exception. By the time the appetizers rolled out, we were already on bottle number two; I’m not sure if that’s a testament of the service time, which I thought was excellent considering the place was crawling with patrons, but more of our thirstiness and eagerness to have a good time.

We decided to order a bunch of appetizers and share mussels for the entrée. The French Onion Soup Gratinée was delicious, though, I’ve had better ones. The Warm Goat Cheese Tart was absolutely incredible. There’s something about goat cheese that makes it a holy-union-good companion with tossed salad, especially when it is accompanied by crispy pancetta and balsamic vinaigrette. The Home Made Foie Gras au Torchon was so good that Shakespeare would be inspired to write a sonnet trumpeting its greatness. The sautéed dry plum figs reduction sauce that came with the foie gras was a nice touch, complimenting the dish superbly. The Masami “Kobe” Steak Tartare was incomparable; I don’t think I’ve ever had it better, and this includes Parisian bistros and restaurants. It was so good that I forgot that I have endangered myself eating the raw meat with each bite, especially since I get food poisoning quite easily.

The Steamed Mussels Marinieres, oh were they to die for! It’s pretty unassuming enough, with only shallots, garlic, parsley, and white wines as ingredients, but boy do they do the job well! It’s the kind of sauce where you throw all caution to the wind, abandon your Atkins attitude towards carbohydrates, and carelessly dip your bread in this heavenly concoction to your hearts’ content! Or sometimes, sip it by itself like soup! The possibilities are endless!

With its convenient location near the Forest Hill MUNI station, Chouchou’s is pretty accessible (though parking could be a bit of a problem, given their tiny parking lot). But what makes this place special for me is the overall atmosphere. It’s that kind of place where you feel like you’re home, almost like a “Cheers Bar” type vibe. It’s that kind of restaurant that you can come to in a weekly basis and make it “your” restaurant, with friendly faces to greet you. Chef Nick was very accommodating, and not just to us, but to his other customers as well. He would check on us every so often, and every so often, he’d pour us some kir royale and we’d be chin-chin!-ing to the wonders that is Paris, after which, he’d give you a bear hug that makes you wonder where the bitchy French stereotypes come from. Aya, the bartender, was a delightfully insightful young woman; she tolerated my feeble attempts at speaking French, and we had that living-in-the- seizième-arrondissement experience in common. Anatoliy, our Bulgarian server, was an excellent source of entertainment; we especially liked how he turned making cappuccinos into an artform. They seemed to be allergic to the notion of empty wine glasses, so we definitely got our share of whites and reds, champagnes and dessert wines. My share of the dinner came out to be around $55 with tax and tip, which is not too bad, considering the amount of food and wine we had throughout the night. I’m definitely coming back here for more!

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PS: Last week’s column was my April Fools’ edition. So, for the record, I’m NOT engaged, nor did I get swept off my feet by an Italian hottie and his irresistibly romantic yet cheesy proposal at the cliffs at sunset. To those who were tearing up and filled with happiness, I’m glad that there’s still hopelessly romantics out there as my friends, and for those who saw through it, well, at least you have two things going for you: an eye for detail and a dose of cynicism.

Episdode Nineteen: Single no more! Engaged in the City!

2009-04-01T01:06:00.001-07:00

Just like Carrie, I thought I’d stay single forever. But I guess every man has his match.

I met Antoni while I was at Le Six Seven in Paris a few months ago while I was there for New Years. I was hanging out with my crew, and he was hanging out with his, and immediately, he stood out from the rest of his Italian mobster posse. Not necessarily because of his looks (though he’s a definite looker), but because of his shirt; it read “Fiscally Republican, Socially Democrat, Sexually Liberal”. I thought, “Hmm… an interesting fella, I gotta talk to that guy.” Like I’ve said before, my foreign language skills (not to mention my bravura) increases exponentially while in the liquored-up stage, and so we did, for what felt like hours. I learned that his name is Antoni Diamante, he’s 24, and he’s an Italian student studying architecture from Rome in Paris for the holidays. We danced a bit, he introduced me to his friends, and I did likewise. He asked if I wanted to go with him to Le Milliardaire, an afterhours club nearby, but I told him that I was with my friends, and I couldn’t leave them (Kat and Frances know very little French). I gave him my French number, and I told him we could have lunch the next day.

I didn’t expect him to call, but around 11am the next morning, he sent me a text, inviting me out to a late lunch at L’Ambassade d’Auvergne in the Marais. I said yes, figuring it was safe enough. Dinner is definitely a date and breakfast is definitely just breakfast, but lunch? Now, that’s up for debate.

One of the millions of things Parisians do best is eating; they’ve got it down to a science. Aperatifs, then salads, cheese, appetizer, entrée, dessert, more cheese, and bottles and bottles of wine; before you know it, you’ve spent four hours in a restaurant. In those four hours, Antoni and I basically talked about everything under the sun. One of the things that I like about him is that I could talk to him about virtually anything, from the inane to the intense, and every shade in between. He’s funny to boot. Not the beer-bong-slapstick-comedy kind of funny, but more of the I-read-a-lot -funny variety. Rule Broken # 1: No relationships with people I’ve met in clubs/bars.

For the next few days, we played tourists in Paris together until Kat, Frances, and I left for Prague. Antoni and I kept in contact, mostly emails, and on some occasions, video chat, but I thought nothing of it. After all, I don’t do long distance relationships.

Then came spring break; I think it all came too fast, my head is still adjusting. He had mentioned a couple of times that he wanted to visit California; he even asked for my address, but I brushed it off aside, thinking that he’s not really going to come. To my surprise, when I got home, he was sitting in my couch next to my mom and my nephews and nieces. I couldn’t believe it at first, but I guess he was the surprise that my mother was talking about; I thought it was my auntie from Vancouver whom I haven’t seen in awhile that’s visiting.

We spent the next few days together. I took him around my favorite spots in San Diego: South Carlsbad Beach. SeaWorld (and of course, the requisite beer pairing sessions courtesy of Anheuser-Busch). La Jolla Cliffs. Blacks Beach in La Jolla. Mount Soledad. Mission Beach/Ocean Beach. San Ysidro Outlet Mall.

On Thursday, while we were enjoying the sunset at the cliffs, out of nowhere, he dropped in one knee (I know, how traditional of him), revealed this beautiful bracelet (because he knows I’m not a big fan of rings), asked for my hand and said “I’m yours forever, will you be mine?”

I’ve learned from some people that there’s no preparing anyone for “the moment”, but when it happens, you’ll know. And in this instance, I did. Rule Broken #2: No long-distance relationships.

Luckily, Prop 8 didn’t pass, and so we can get married. He’s still has a few months before finishing his degree in architecture, and I still have a couple of years until I’m finished, so we’re in no rush. He’s trying to get a job out here in California, but with the way the economy’s tanking like Arizona’s performance against Louisville on the Sweet Sixteen this year, prospects are a bit gloomy.

Mark Anthony Diamante. That has a good ring to it.

Episode Eighteen: Restaurant Review: Pisces Restaurant

2009-03-12T23:21:00.001-07:00

Pisces California Cuisine (Reviewed 12 March 2009)
3414 Judah Street,
San Francisco, CA 94122
Three and a half out of 5 stars

It’s two Saturday before finals week, and like any good pharmacy student, I procrastinated, but with a good reason. Last Saturday, for my friend Hai’s surprise birthday dinner party, we went to Pisces Restaurant, this out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere restaurant in Outer Sunset, a place not necessarily renowned for its culinary expertise. And at first glance, it doesn’t look that much of a looker. Surrounded by houses, and with the N-Judah whizzing by giving you a feeling that there’s earth-shattering earthquake every five minutes, this particular location doesn’t quite help the restaurant’s cause. And if you weren’t looking close enough, chances are you’ll miss the place because its nondescript sign was not effectively doing its job.
As I walked in to the restaurant, I got a different vibe. The restaurant was nicely decorated: elegantly simple lamps, minimalist wall decorations, and comfortable yet sturdy chairs, though my only minor complaint would be the fake fireplace that wasn’t giving out warmth. For such a small restaurant, they sure did maximize the space without sacrificing aesthetics or comfort. Unlike other small San Francisco restaurants, my elbows were not touching my neighbor’s, so that’s a plus.
For such a huge party, I would say that the service we’ve received was quite prompt. Taking all 28 orders didn’t take as long as I would’ve thought, and I guess it helped that there was prompt bread service to distract my growling stomach.
For starters, I had the clam chowder, which was not too salty, which is a good thing, though I have to say I’ve had better ones. However I must say that I scarfed it down quite quickly because of my intense hunger; the bread service wasn’t enough. I didn’t get to try the other option for starters, which was the Organic Green Salad with honey-mustard vinaigrette, but from the looks of it, it didn’t seem that I missed out on anything; the salad seemed to be swimming in the vinaigrette, which to me is a big no-no! I don’t like to eat a tub of salad dressing with a side salad.
For my main course, I usually go for things that either 1) I don’t know how to cook or 2) something that I don’t normally eat, so I went ahead with the Slow Roasted Muscovy Duck Leg. It was quite tasty, with the meat falling right off the bone. The garlic noodles gallette that came with it, on the other hand, was not to my liking. It just seemed a bit odd-tasting, and not in a good way.
I also got to try the other main dishes that my friends ordered; the “not-so-boring” salmon with asparagus and sautéed potatoes were quite scrumptious. The Braised Beef Short Ribs with spinach and mashed potatoes were well prepared. It was tender and juicy, just the way I like ‘em.
The Vanilla Bean Crème Brûlée for dessert was the perfect end-of-the-meal finishing touch. It was quite light, wasn’t overly sweet, and the sugar glaze part was delectable.
A three-course prix-fixe menu + tax/tip + covering the birthday girl’s dinner only set me back $30, which I would say was reasonable, quite good-for-San-Francisco-prices even.
Surely, this section of Outer Sunset doesn’t have that aura of sophistication like the SoMa, or the hustle-and-bustle feel of the Mission, but what you get is proportionally-correct, satiation-inducing and delightfully crafted meals at reasonable prices.

Episode Seventeen: 25 things about Mark Anthony

2009-03-04T14:26:00.001-08:00

Yes, I know, everyone and their mothers have done one of these on Facebook. But at least, I have a reason. After all, I just turned 25 last Tuesday, so what's a better way to celebrate my quarter-century existence? The only real good thing about turning 25 is that I get to rent a car without that extra under-25-fee. And really, let's face it, after 25, the only other milestone left to look forward to is the Senior Meal Menu at Denny's.

So here it goes:

I have lots of energy, even in the morning. Someone asked me what I was like on caffeine. I found the answer to this question the hard way; studying for my PharmChem midterm, feeling the need to stay up as long as possible to cover the test material, I drank 4 cups of coffee and was unable to sleep. I must've lain in bed for four hours with my eyes wide open.
When I tell people that my name is Mark Anthony, surprisingly, I get the "as-in-Cleopatra's-lover" question more often than the "as-in-J-Lo's-husband" variety.
I run on Filipino time (at least 30 minutes late), though this is something that I'm constantly working on. It's not so much that I plan to be late, but that I get distracted so easily.
It may not seem like it, but I'm really shy when it comes to talking to people that I'm really attracted to. That's about the only thing that will shut me up. Hahaha…
For the most part, I don't remember my dreams; the one that I remember is the dream where I get chased by a murderer and I hide down in the sewers. Every single time, I always get killed; I'm not sure what that means. The other recurrent dream that I have is of me winning the lottery. Somehow, in this dream, my winnings are always $42 million, split two ways; I've bought two lotto tickets with the same winning numbers, one paid in lump sum, and the other paid in 26 annual payments. Maybe the latter is more daydreaming more than anything else.
I have never broken a bone in my body (crossing my fingers on this one).
I used to play the oboe in middle school, up until freshman year of high school, but I quit because I didn't like my orchestra teacher. Ten years after, as a birthday present for myself, I've recently decided to try to pick up playing oboe again; I bought a used oboe, and I've tried playing it several times. I've forgotten how difficult it is to play the oboe (the embouchure is quite hard to get right at first), but hopefully, with more practice, I'll get better and not sound like a duck that's about to be slaughtered.
I was looking through my 7^th grade portfolio (yeah, exactly…) and when I looked at my future goals, I listed that by the time I'm 35, I would have had a JD, MD, and an MBA. I chuckled a bit afterwards… I guess, if I substituted PharmD for MD, this is still doable; the question of desire, on the other hand, that's still up for grabs.
From middle school 'til sophomore year of high school, I had long hair then I decided to chop it off and had a faux hawk for awhile; now I'm back to the long hair. I guess it's true what they say about fashion: it goes in cycles.
I took nine AP tests in high school, and passed them all; I was already considered a sophomore in college before even stepping into UCSD.
In high school, I had to resign as editor-in-chief of my high school paper for a Valentines-Day prank gone awry; at the time, I thought it was freaking hilarious, but it almost got me suspended and kicked out of school. This probably had something to do with why I got black-listed when I applied for Yearbook Staff my senior year.
I used to play boggle a lot when I was little. I used to play with my uncle who I swore was making up words while we were playing; not once did I beat him. See, this is why I kick your butt at Scramble, Kamal.
I used to read encyclopedias when I was in grade school; this is probably why I know a lot of random things. Vulcanized rubber, vas deferens, Vatican City, Vietnam War… (for all of my "Friends" fanatic readers J)
Along those lines, one of my favorite things to do is go on Wikipedia. It's amazing how much time I spend looking up stuff on there.
Another favorite past time of mine is looking up flights, trying to figure out the cheapest way to get places. For this summer, I saw a San Francisco-Buenos Aires and Lima-San Francisco flight for $635 total; almost makes me want to quit my job so I can go travel this summer.
I like traveling by myself. It's really hard to find people to travel with; I can probably count on one hand the number of people I can be travel buddies with.
Throughout the years, I have come to a conclusion that I, like many others, vastly improve on my foreign language speaking skills during inebriated states. Once, I was able to carry on an involved conversation with some native Barcelonans in Spanish about the Sagrada Familia in a Barcelona bar no less, but had no recollection of it the next morning.
If I had to point out a time period where I have grown and evolved the most as a human being, it would have to be my last two years of college, more specifically, my I-house experience. Late-night talks, late morning brunches, afternoon walks, cliff-side chilling at dusk and partying until dawn have all made an indelible mark on my development as a person. Sure, there were mishaps and misadventures along the way, but as someone has noted: "Life's not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather, to skid in, broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming: "Wow, what a ride."
I'm pretty good at telling when someone likes one of my friends, but when it involves me, I'm Cher Horowitz.
I love meeting new people; it's my designer drug!
I'm horrible at keeping in contact. If it were not for Facebook, I wouldn't be in touch with friends from high school, college, and random people from different paths.
Another designer drug: buying stuff on sale! Thanks ebates.com, slickdeals.net, retailmenot.com and other godsend websites for saving me all this money that I've used to buy more stuff!
I bake when I'm trying to procrastinate (I procrasti-bake!). Favorite thing to make: brownies!
I like reading books that I've picked out for myself (and not the textbooks/syllabus that I HAVE to read for school); last book read: Persepolis. Current book: East of New York, West of Kabul. Side note: my new best friend: San Francisco Public Library.
I like art (and secretly wish that I had any artistic inclination, but to no avail). Favorite artists: Van Gogh, Monet, Manet, Miro, Canaletto. Favorite period: Impressionist/Post-Impressionists

Because I'm not afraid to be different, I'm listing 1 more! (hey, it's my column!)

I try to live my life with as little regret as possible; not saying that I don't have any regrets, but if there's something that I want to do (traveling, for example), and it's within reasonable reach, I go for it. Money can be made, but the desire and the opportunity to do something may only come once.

Episode Sixteen: My Sweet Sixteen Love Affair with Food

2009-02-26T10:51:00.001-08:00

With the way I eat, I will rue the day my metabolism slows down; until then, I shall happily eat away without a care in the world; well, maybe not TOO carefree, after all, diabetes does run in my family.

Here are my favorites when it comes to food (a collection of both local and international flavors):

Best bang-for-your-buck-dish that's close to campus: Lime Tree (450A Irving St, between 5^th and 6^th)
It always boggles my mind how long the lines are at Subway when there's a LOT of affordable and tasty restaurants nearby. Singaporean Curry Noodles is the best food your six bucks can buy anywhere near campus.
Hole-in-the-wall Thai/Vietnamese/typical Asian food: Citrus Club (1790 Haight St)
It's usually busy during lunch time, or any time for that matter, for a reason: cheap, tasty, and generous servings. What to get: fresh spring rolls, peanut noodles with chicken or spicy curry tiger shrimp and for dessert, citrus-fried bananas w/ ice cream.
Americanized-Thai Food: Osha Thai (4 locations in the city)
My litmus tests for good Thai restaurants are their tom kah soup and their green curry and this place passes with flying colors. What makes Osha even better is the presentation and the ambiance; I feel like I'm eating at a fancy-pants restaurant at reasonable prices ($12-$15 an entrée). Also not to miss: Pumpkin Curry and Pineapple Fried Rice.
Indian/Pakistani: Restaurant Taj (19, Rue Roquette, 75011 Paris)
I must've eaten at this Indian/Pakistani restaurant in Paris at least once a week while I was studying abroad there. My favorite dish here was the "Poulet Taj", chicken with curry sauce, crème fraîche, cashews, and almonds.
Filipino Fusion restaurant: Pomelo (92 Judah St)
I realize that the competition here isn't that many, but hey, this is my list. Plus, any restaurant that has a Malbec on its wine list gets 4 bonus cool points in my book. Dishes to try here: Koh Samui, Manila, and the Chiang Mai
French Diner: Chez Maman (1453 18^th Street)
This small and charming diner at Potrero Hill has that feeling of a neighborhood restaurant. French portions (small yet diabolically tasty) are the norm, yet you leave this place fully satiated. I was there for breakfast, and their Eggs Florentine with sautéed spinach and gruyere béchamel sauce was amazing. Darn those Frenchies.
French fancy restaurant: La Terasse (215 Lincoln Blvd)
As much as I want to put "French Laundry" in here, I can't, since a three-course meal would set me back a mortgage payment. La Terasse, in the picturesque part of the Presidio, has stunning views. Their sommelier gives great recommendations with regards to wine pairings. What to get: Foie Gras Torchon, Duck Confit, Prawns Provencale and Moules Frites (mussels and French Fries). Tip #24: to save money, you can buy restaurant.com gift certificates. For these, at times, you can find 80% off coupons, so a $50 gift certificate will only cost you $10.
Mexican: restaurant near our cottage, Bahia de los Angeles, Mexico

During my junior year of college, my International House buddies and I took a glorified road trip down to Mexico for Thanksgiving. In addition to getting stung by a jellyfish and the sordid details about my friends' lives, the thing that I most remember about this trip is how well and how we ate. Bahia de los Angeles is a small fishing village on the Gulf side of Baja California; they had one main restaurant, where we basically ate fresh seafood to our hearts' content.
Pho: Phuong Trang (San Diego)
For me, the standard to which I judge pho is how non-greasy their broths are. And I haven't been able to find pho as good as I've gotten here. Another bonus is the large portions and the reasonable prices.
Hot Chocolate: Angelina's (226 Rue de Rivoli 75001, Paris)
Two words that describe their oh-my-god-i-died-and-went-to-heaven-good hot chocolates: melted chocolate. Pair that with their scrumptious macaroons, and you've got yourselves 2 pounds that goes straight to the hips; a minute on the lips, forever on the hips! But what a lovely minute that was!
Crepes: random street vendor, somewhere in Paris

Yes, crepes do deserve their own column. And yes, you almost can't go wrong with any crepes street vendor in Paris; it must be something in the water.
Runner up: Crepevine. Serving size is enormous, and I'm always beyond stuffed every time I eat here! Tip#38: When eating with another person, order 1 savory and 1 sweet crepe and split it between the two of you; that way, you'll have best of both worlds!
Desserts: Schubert's Bakery (521 Clement Street)
Their Mango Mousse is to die for. I've been here three times now, and every time I go, I always get this; perhaps next time I'll try something different, because they're all scrumptious, but I guess, why mess with a good thing, right?
Ice cream: Bi-Rite (3962 18^thSt)/Mitchell's Ice Cream (688 San Jose Ave)
What can I say: I really love ice cream! Bi-rite has that mom-and-pop feel going on, and most of their ice creams are made with organic ingredients; my favorites here are peanut butter with a fudge swirl and Honey Lavender. Mitchell's ice cream has those Filipino-only flavors (they have the BEST ube, quezo real, and mango ice cream!), plus an oddball flavors like Avocado.
Hangover food: Carne Asada Fries

It's a pity that this heavenly concoction is only available in Southern California (or at least, that I know of). In essence, it is like a nacho supreme (beans, salsa, sour cream, cheese, and guacamole) but in a bed of French Fries instead of chips.
Runner up: Corned Beef Hash - best place to get these would be Pork Store Café (two locations: 1451 Haight St, and 3122 16^th St). There's something about greasy food that makes your stomach feel THAT much better after a rough night out.
Brunch with mimosas: Lime (2247 Market St)
At times, Saturdays and especially Sundays, the restaurant feels like a club, with techno or electronic thumping in the back ground and the Castro boys recovering from the night before, nursing their bottomless mimosas for $6. That's what usually draws the crowd, though the food's not so bad.
Happy Hour food: TGI Fridays

During my heyday in college, my friends and I used to go at least once a week to the point that the hostess and servers knew what exactly I order each and every time: Jack Daniels Chicken Strip, Spinach Dip, and Brownie Obsession for desserts, all for half-off!. 4-7pm and after 10pm! Those were the happy days.

Episode Fifteen: The Pillow Fight

2009-02-17T11:44:00.001-08:00

The San Francisco Pillow Fight Club 2009 at Justin Harmon Square in the Embarcadero definitely qualifies as one of those "only-in-San-Francisco" moments; I mean, what other US city would allow its denizens to run amok, wielding pillows as their choice of weapons, reenacting fight scenes from "300" or "Braveheart"? So in spite of the looming rain, my roommate and I decided to brave the elements and check out this annual quirky event.

I would've thought it was going to be weird riding on the MUNI with my pillow only to find twenty other people with their pillows in their laps. In some sense the kind of pillow that people brought with them reflected a part of their own personalities. It was cross-section worthy of a United Colors of Benetton advertisement: a young Japanese couple, the girl with a Hello Kitty pillow, and the guy with a plain white pillow, with no pillow covers; a group of middle aged friends with their psychedelically groovy designed pillow cases; and a woman who must've been in her late fifties who had with her a small pillow but had decided to become a spectator of the festivities instead.

My friend who had been to last year's fight has told me to make sure to bring masks or any protective face guards. I scoffed at that advice, thinking that it will just get in the way, and definitely ate my words (among other things); by the end of it, I must've inhaled and ingested three pillows worth of down feathers. She also warily warned me that apparently, last year, some no-good troublemakers decided to put rocks in their pillows and inflicted unwarranted pain on others. Luckily, I didn't encounter any rock-filled pillows, though I did get hit by a wet one; it was neither pleasant nor welcomed.

The pillow fight started at 6pm, but we were running a bit late (c'mon, did you expect anything else?) and didn't get there until about 6:15; it surprised me a bit when I saw some people leaving as we were getting nearer the plaza. For a moment, I thought that we had missed the entire thing, though as we got to the plaza, throngs of people were bashing away. My roomie and I headed for the middle to see what kinds of trouble we can get ourselves into.

There were so many people, that for awhile, I got separated from my roomie and the other people that I came with. But somehow, I managed to bump into Kendra and Zach, my CouchSurfer friends whom I haven't seen in awhile. Since school work has been piling up, I haven't been able to host or attend any of the events, but it sure was nice catching up with them, however short it might have been.

It was organized chaos, to say the least. Everyone was hitting everyone else, in varying levels of force, which I guess was the point. Every so often, someone ripped their pillow and throw all of its contents up in the air. I felt like I just got feathered and tarred as I walked out of the huddled mass of hysteria, gasping for fresh air.

I didn't think about this at the time, but the really good thing about this whole exercise was that it gives you a chance to flirt with someone without actually "flirting". If you hit someone and they hit you back, you can initiate a "pillow fight"; if they keep hitting you, I guess you can take that as a sign to pursue it; if they stop, then you can turn your attention elsewhere. I guess this gives some credence to that age-old theory that was promulgated when we were in kindergarten: "when someone hits you, that means that he or she likes you."

Episode Fourteen: Single Awareness Day (SAD)

2009-02-11T23:17:00.001-08:00

February 14. For some, this invokes a warm fuzzy feeling in their tummies, a day of exchanging sweet little nothings, eating blackboard-chalk-tasting candy, and dining at exorbitantly priced restaurants capitalizing on this very day. For others, it is a dreary reminder of what they are "missing out" on, if the incessant jewelry commercials are to be believed.

No, this is not another article about how Valentine's Day is just another manifestation of our capitalistic greed masquerading as lame attempts of love proclamations and reaffirmations (though clearly, Hallmark, the chocolate industry, the jewelry stores, and florists have cornered this market).

But in all honesty, love is not all about a particular day, or a particular gift or gesture, or about being in a relationship or about social conformity, it's about unpredictability and irreplaceable memories. The fantasy that coupled people are blissful and well-loved can funnel feelings of loneliness and incompleteness for those people who aren't with someone and wishing they were. The more that we see through this façade, the more likely that we feel better about being who and where we are in our lives.

Here are four reasons to be thankful that you are a bachelor/bachelorette living and loving the single life this Valentine's day:

No need to meet "expectations"
For some couples, there is that pressure to get something for their significant other, out of social tradition, instead of from the heart, and therein lies the potential for disappointment and further damage. If you get him/her something too big, there's "expectations" and "where is this going" types of questions; give a smaller than "expected" gift, and the wrong kind of "where is this going" type of questions will arise. For us single people, we can go out and get it ourselves and we'll never get disappointed!
Because love can take many forms: familial, platonic, etc.
Who said that Valentines' Day is only for couples? So if you are single and loving it, or even if you are single and wanting to be in a relationship, take the time to invest in the relationships that you currently are in. Call your best friend back home whom you haven't spoken to in weeks because crazy hectic school or work has gotten in the way. Send your mom a baked goods gift basket.
No need to pay for an arm, a leg, and 2 future sons to pay for a prix fixe menu that probably doesn't taste as good as it is expensive
Especially in this crumbling economy, we all can't afford to spend $80 on a bleh dinner. And besides, you can probably save up your money to get something that you really would like (see #1)
It's better to be alone than to wish you were
Enough said.

Instead of being SAD about Valentines' Day, here are some things to do with the single ladies and gentlemen this weekend:

Go out to your favorite bar/club.
Chances are people that are out in the bars/clubs will be in the same boat as you, out to have fun.
Attend "The Great Pillow Fight" at Justin Harmon Square (Embarcadero and Market at 6pm on Valentines' Day (Feb. 14^th)
Let out the inner child in you and play! With the weather forecast predicting rain on Saturday, things just got a bit more interesting. Just make sure you bring a pillow made out of natural materials (hemp, cotton, down, etc) and a plastic bag that fits your pillow, and then you're ready to hack away!
Sprinkle some culture in you! Michael Rosenthal's gallery (365 Valencia) is featuring "Morse Code Landscapes", and its opening night is on February 14^th from 6-9pm and runs until March 12^th. At San Francisco Studio School Gallery (30 Hotaling Pl), they're featuring six Bay Area painters in their exhibition "The Nature of Landscapes". Opening night is this Thursday, February 12^th from 6:30-8:30pm, and is open Monday-Friday 1-6pm until April 30^th.
Have a night in! Wine, cheese, board games, and delicious take-out, or if you are culinary-inclined, home-made dinner. However, lose the temptation to make a bonfire out of old boyfriend/girlfriend's stuff, unless you're trying to lure a fireman into a date.

Episode Thirteen: Tale of the Three Continents: Last stop: Europe

2009-02-07T23:56:00.000-08:00

This trip of mine definitely had its share of good and bad luck; it just seemed that it was concentrated in one place.

Paris: la ville de malchance et les “argents” et les “diamants”

Like I’ve said before, I can write epic novels about Paris. It was my third time being in Paris, and it still hasn’t lost its luster and allure to me. The Grands Boulevards, Haussmanian buildings, the sparkling Eiffel Tower at night, Musée d’Orsay, all bring back nostalgic feelings, feelings of unbridled happiness and freedom. In spite of what transpired while I was here the third time, I was still able to enjoy myself while I was here, and still think of Paris as my favorite city.

When I arrived at the apartment (on the 15^th arrondissement) that we had rented out, apparently, my friends Frances and Kat had already started having bad luck. The heater wasn’t heating up the place adequately, and so they’ve had to walk around the apartment in bundles, and as a last resort, had used the oven as an impromptu “fireplace”. Frances had troubles with her credit cards and had to call her credit card companies back home to lift the fraud alert. Travel tip #643: Make sure that you have contacted your credit card companies BEFORE leaving; otherwise, you’ll have issues up the wazoo. (And I know they say that you can call them collect overseas, but to my experience, that’s another headache in itself, so save yourselves from the troubles)

Anyhow, as we were getting ready to head out, Frances used her flattening iron, and within 2 minutes, shorted the circuit: hello frozen apartment. We tried resetting the breaker, but to no avail, or so we thought. We called Theo, the apartment owner’s friend who was looking after the place, and he came over after work. Apparently, when the circuit shorts, there’s a switch that automatically turns off, and all we had to do was switch it back on; of course, we felt like big bêtes.

I’ve heard horror stories about French locksmiths; they charge a premium, and that they’re not nice people. I guess it was my turn to live this horror. The apartment that we rented out was recently renovated, with double pane glasses, wooden floors, heated drying racks (which were AMAZING) and a secured, double-locked and double-bolt door, the kind that you have to use a key to get out. But just in case of an emergency, Frances thought that it would be safe to leave the key on the door, so we can open the door easier. On our way out, we accidentally left the keys in the knob inside the apartment, and since there were bolts that automatically activate once the door is closed, we couldn’t just push the door in. We ended up calling this locksmith that Theo recommended, and after assessing the door, he said that aside from the 120€ charge for his service, that it’ll take another 600€ to replace the locks. We were outraged, and kept telling the guy to just open us up, and the landlord will take care of it when she gets back. He finally relented, and he started hammering away. Only after the fact did we realize that he screwed us over. He essentially broke the lock for no reason; he only needed to jimmy the bolt using a thin but strong film paper to pry the bolts loose, but he hammered into the lock anyway. Since we were so frazzled, we just let him do what he was doing, and paid him as soon as he was finished.

As if it weren’t bad enough, the next day, as I was heading out to grab some baguettes and pastries for breakfast, another misfortune happened. Like the apartment door, the outside door also required using a key to get out, and as I was trying to get out, the key SNAPPED while I was turning the key; now, both the outside and inside doors cannot be locked! Luckily, most of the tenants in the apartment were gone on holidays, and Sofiane, a carpenter who was working on the apartment above ours, was the only other person in the apartment. Basically, we ended up taping the door to both the inside and outside doors so we can leave; Sofiane helped us out big time by giving us the tape and sand paper (to place on the inside door so it’ll stay shut). See, whoever said that French people are bitchy?

With all the bad luck that we were having, we swore we were on some sick and twisted French reality TV show or something. I kept waiting for a French Ashton to pop up somewhere and tell me that we’ve been punk’d, but alas, no trucker hat-wearing fool was there to give us the good news.

But in spite of all of this, my friends and I still ended up having a grand ol’ time in la cité de lumières. Paris is best enjoyed by foot, but since it was freezing (it was hovering around 4 degrees Celsius), we decided to do walk a bit, and use the smelly but highly efficient metro when we got too cold. I took them around my old school, AUP, where I pointed out the cafés that we would frequent while we were there, and showed them my favorite boulangerie, Boulangerie Julienne, where they make the best chocolate au pain and sandwich de poulet curry. I took them to my favorite Church (Madeleine), my favorite place to shop (Chatelet-Les Halles), and my favorite place to people watch (Sacre-Couer).

While having our “French moment” (eating crepes) at Champs de Mars, we created our new “ratings system”; instead of rating people using numbers (1-10),To be a bit more discreet (if that was EVER possible), we’ve decided to rank them using a different system: a “10” was considered a “platinum”, a “9” is a diamond, an “8” is a gold, “7” is a silver, and a “6” is a bronze. For 5 and below, we clumped them all together to “cubic zirconium” or CZ for short.

There was no shortage of bronzes and silvers in this city; though we were a bit more discerning in handing out anything any rating above silver. We decided to stick to this rating system, and made one more caveat; if we see anyone “gold” or above, we HAD to talk to them. I mean, how often do we get to travel, and besides, we’re probably not going to see them ever again, so what’s the harm, right? And who knows, something nice might come of it.

Le Six Seven, a posh little club near Champs-Elysses, was littered with silvers, gold, and diamonds, of all different races; see facebook photos to see them. I have heard of this place while I was studying here, but the cover here was always ridiculous (25€), so we went to other places (Le Queen on Wednesdays, and Barrio Latina and Sanz Sans in the Bastille area on the weekends). Fortunately, I was able to get us in to a free guestlist, and so for New Year’s night, we braved the cold and headed out, putting our miseries aside for one night. And what a night it was; partying until the wee hours, just in time to catch the first metro, just like the good ol’ days.

Prague: -11 C and dropping

I have been once to Prague (sometimes called the Paris of Central Europe) two summer ago, but Frances and Kat hadn’t been, and they’ve heard me gush about Prague ad nauseum, and after Paris, we decided that we’ll stop over to “The Freezer”, formerly known as Prague.

Like Paris, Prague is best enjoyed by foot, though with below zero temperatures (one day the high was -11 C), it was a bit difficult. We did about one or two tourist-y thing a day, and the rest of the time, we spent in a restaurant, café, or anywhere warm.

For a daytrip, we took the train to Kutna Hora, a quaint little town about a 2 ½ hour train ride from Prague, most famous for its ossuary. Aside from the chilly collection of bones made into ornaments, chandeliers, and whatnot, Kutna Hora has a picturesque center square, lined with shops, restaurants, and cafés, with neoclassical architecture as its main motif.

I ended up staying with Denis, a fellow CouchSurfer, while I was in Prague. He is a software engineer working for Opera. He took us (twice) to the best Italian place I have ever been to outside of Italy; who would’ve thought? Their penne chicken pesto was to die for, as well as their white cream seafood pasta; their thin crust pizza was also marvelous, as well as their Czech beers on tap. It was ridiculously cheap too, something that is becoming more of a rarity here in Prague, as it gets more and more tourist-y. For two pizzas, three pastas, a bottle of wine, and 3 pints of beer, we paid about 600 Korunas (about $30). I also met up with Daniel, another CouchSurfer. He took us out clubbing to the biggest club in Prague (I forgot what the name of it was, but it was near the Charles Bridge), a six story behemoth, outfitted with different themes each floor (hip-hop, dance, electronic, lounge, chill,)

Istanbul: the “default” vacation

While I was planning this trip, I was trying to decide whether to go to Istanbul or Morocco, places that I have heard great things about, so really, when it came down to it, price and availability of flights ultimately decided it for me; there weren’t that many cheap flights out to Casablanca, Marrakesh, or Fez around the time that I was looking, and I was able to snag a one-way from Prague to London for 35€ a return from London to Istanbul for 65£, and so Istanbul it was.

Sultanahmet Square was in one word: exquisite. The manicured lawns are well kept, with a fountain beautifully appointed in the center. The Hagia Sophia was a thing of beauty, a great example of early Byzantine architecture; it started out as a traditional Latin colonnaded basilica with a wooden roof, and five naves back in the fifth century, and now, after riots and fires, it currently stands as a domed longitudinal basilica, with a central dome, protruding apses, and an internal and external narthex. It is most famous for its richly decorated mosaics, with gold gilded motifs. It was actually in the running for the New World Wonders, but ultimately didn’t make the ranks of the Chichen Itza in Mexico, Christ of the Redeemer in Brazil and others.

Across the square from Hagia Sophia was the Blue Mosque, a culmination of both the classical Ottoman and Byzantine architecture. Its exterior is stunning, made up mostly of marble and local stone. Apparently, it changes colors, depending on how the sun hits the surface, or at least that’s what the old man selling the pretzel outside the mosque. The interior was even more dazzling, with the colorful handmade tiles, with representations of flowers, fruits and cypress in the gallery level, and a more classical design in the lower levels.

Of course, the square was littered with tourists, and the vendors that sold everything, from disposable cameras, to baklavas and other sweets, and other knickknacks. I had an encounter with this persistent man who kept offering me “free” books and postcard sets, only to ask for 45 liras as a “donation”. When I kept telling him that I didn’t have any money, he kept insisting that I take it, and to give him whatever I had to spare. I relented, and I gave him 20 liras, which wasn’t bad, considering the book was about 10 liras, and the postcard booklet was another 10 (I saw their prices on a stand nearby).

London: Reunited with the big furry red bird

One thing that London knows how to do right is museums. All of their museums are free! And not just on every first day of the month; it’s free 365 days out of the year! Imagine: da Vinci, Monet, Boticelli, whenever you want! Well, not whenever you want apparently; da Vinci’s “Madonna on the Rocks” was in restoration, and Boticelli’s “The Birth of Venus” was temporarily moved to a paid admission wing in the National Gallery. At least I got to see some Titian (“Bacchus and Ariadne”) and got introduced to Canaletto, whose remarkable eye for detail and precision and infusion of tiny, lifelike incidents in his paintings had made him the definitive painter of Venice. I especially enjoyed “A Regatta on the Grand Canal”, with realistic waves that appear to move and the intricate details of the spectators.

I met Sharon through our common friend Diane, whom I went to college with and my neighbor while I lived in International House my junior year. She visited San Francisco last summer, and I told her that while I thought London was a good city, I wouldn’t want to visit it again because it was so darn expensive; in essence, the same amount, but switch out $ for the £. She promised me that she’d take me out to the cheap but good places to eat and go out; she held up her end of the bargain. If there were any beneficiaries of the crumbling global finance, it is American travelers; six months ago, 1£ was about $2.20, now, it’s about $1.55.

On our way to lunch, we were walking through a square, and out of nowhere, someone yells out my name. When I looked back, it was my friend Ellen, another I-House alumnus. I would’ve contacted her to let her know I was going to be in London, but I thought she was still in Edinburgh (thanks facebook status updates). She just moved back to London for the holidays, and is now working for a theatre group in London. Randomness, I thought: five million people in this city, and I happen to bump into one of my old friends out in the streets. What are the odds of that?

So after five weeks, I finally got home, with all of my body parts still intact. Despite my best efforts to avoid jetlag, for a week, I kept waking up at 3 am and falling asleep at 7-8pm, but it was all worth it.

Episode Twelve: Tale of the Three Continents: Second stop: Asia

2009-02-07T23:52:00.000-08:00

My flight was originally scheduled to land in Singapore from Perth at 7:30pm, but luck has it that mine was changed so that I was not getting in to Singapore until 2 am!(you gotta love the low-budget airlines that can just change their flights whenever they want to; I guess you get what you pay for). So I ended up sleeping in the airport, which by the way wasn’t such a bad thing.

Singapore: Disappointment Island

My original purpose of visiting Singapore was to visit my friend Harsha, my crazy but lovable Indonesian neighbor during my junior year of college in International House. It has been about four years since I have seen her last, and so, I was looking forward to hanging out with her; I contacted her in May to let her know of my plans, and so it was set, or so I thought. I sent her a reminder email late November when I have my flight information finalized, only to be told that unfortunately, she will not be in Singapore when I’ll be arriving and that she will be heading to Darwin and Cairnes for her holidays.

Out of the all the cities that I visited, Singapore was the one that I was most disappointed with. When the airport is the city’s best feature, it doesn’t bode well for that city. But what an airport it was: modern and sleek facade, well-appointed decorations, natural light bathing most of the airport space, wide concourses that allow your eyes to be at peace, and best of all, free Wi-Fi!

I mean don’t get me wrong, Singapore really is as sanitarily clean as people say, but to me, there’s something off about it. But, for what it is worth, there are certain parts of Singapore that I enjoyed. Being a former British colony, certain architecture elements were present, as evidenced by neoclassical buildings in the theatre and museum district, which were well-preserved, and for the most part, well constructed and not bastardized.

For my tourist-y thing, I paid the Roaring Lion a visit. It was a good place to people watch, with tourists taking goofy pictures with the Lion, to businessmen and women grabbing happy hour drinks nearby. What I enjoyed the most, however, was Little India. It was the antithesis of the sanitized Singapore; not that it was filthy, but there were definitely gum wrappers and such in the streets. It was a lively place, with bars lining up the crowded and bustling streets, street vendors hawking everything from seasonal fruits to used electronic gadgets, and restaurants that fill the streets with enticing aroma.

But I guess the fact that I missed out on spending time with Harsha and that I didn’t have a strong desire to visit Singapore in the first place, almost made me regret stopping by Singapore; I kept thinking that the day and a half that I spent in Singapore would’ve been better spent in Bangkok.

Bangkok: I think I died and went to heaven

Oh, where do I begin? I’ve wanted to go to Bangkok ever since I tasted my first Tom Kah soup from Royal Thai in La Jolla, and I have heard nothing but great things.

Thai food is my favorite cuisine, and boy, did I eat my heart out while I was here; I must’ve eaten at least four times a day while I was in Bangkok. I found this Thai buffet restaurant that served all sorts of yummy goodness, from green curry, all for 250 baht (which was about $7.50). I also found this other Thai restaurant near the hostel that I stayed at, and by the time I left, they knew my name and my order (tom kah, green curry with chicken, and bottled water) all for a reasonable price (130 baht for my whole meal , about $3.85). There was this one late-night eatery, however, that gave me the “tourist” price when I ordered, but I have read about it beforehand, and apparently they do it to everyone, so I don’t feel slighted. The funny thing is, at first, when I sat down, the lady thought I was Thai, gave me the Thai menu, and started talking to me in Thai. When I gave her a puzzled look and replied in broken Thai that I only speak English, she gave me the “tourist” menu, equipped with photos and such, and of course the requisite increase in price (about 200 baht difference, which is about $6.00).

Out of all the cities that I have traveled to this trip, I was warmly received by the Thai people the most. I know 3 words in Thai, but they’ve got me through, with help from a LOT of hand gestures and facial expressions.

Here’s where I met Juan Pablo, an Argentinean traveler with model-like looks in Bangkok for the holidays, who was on his way to Madrid for work. We were staying at the same hostel, and I met him the night before I left for the Philippines. Who would’ve thought that I would be practicing my Spanish in Bangkok? Through CouchSurfing, I met Daniel and Kyla, who owns this diving place in Phiphi, an island an hour away from Phuket by ferry. I promised them that the next time I’m in Thailand that Phiphi will be a definite stop.

I decided that a little pampering would go a long way, and so, I went to this day spa in the Sathorn area, that was equipped with a pool, gym, sauna, steam baths, and a Jacuzzi. Amazing is all that I can say: for 1500 Baht (about $44), I had access to all of their amenities, plus a 2-hour full body massage and a 45-minute body scrub treatment. My masseur was quite professional and gave a really good massage; I felt quite relaxed and reinvigorated afterwards.

Philippines: relax and recharge

Words cannot fully describe the four days that I spent in the Philippines. All in all, it was a very relaxing and refreshing time with my family that I haven’t seen in awhile. I haven’t seen my oldest sister in two years, since I went back last time for my other sister’s wedding, and before that, the last time I saw her was when she dropped us off the airport eleven years ago when we moved to the US permanently. I have always felt closest to my oldest sister, despite the ten year difference between us; it must be the Pisces thing. I bought myself a webcam so we can talk to each other in Skype. With my busy schedule and the time difference, we are trying to do this at least once a month.

My favorite time of the year is Christmas, and being a Catholic country, Christmas is a big celebration in the Philippines. Streets were decorated with streamers, parols (star-like Christmas lanterns made out of bamboo and paper) adoring the homes, and fake Christmas trees embellished with the usual accoutrements.

My godson wanted to go hiking and camping, and so we went to Subic Bay for camping, and explored the surroundings and went hiking with the natives that were running the campground. Manong Edwin even made me a spoon and fork set, with matching glasses, made from bamboo. The next day, we went to Camayan Resort in Subic Bay for some scuba diving, kayaking, and good ol’ fashion sunbathing. Good times indeed.

Shopping-wise, I can never get enough of the Philippines. So much that I ended up with a WHOLE suitcase full of stuff, and not spending a fortune on it. The other bonus is that these clothes are unique and that not a lot of people will have them. I’m not a snob when it comes to clothes (well, ok, maybe a little); I don’t get bent out of shape when I see someone wearing the same shirt as I am, though as much as possible I try to look as “unique” as I can, whatever that means. I mean, we all don’t wanna walk around looking like page six in the Banana Republic catalog, now do we?

Bahrain: handcuffed by a Bahraini policeman

No, no, it’s not what you think. I didn’t violate any Bahraini laws, or anything like that; it’s more of the curiosity-killed-the-cat kind of thing.

My next destination from Manila was Paris, but I had a stopover at Bahrain for eight hours, and so, I decided to pay my friend Presita, the hilarious girl that I met at my friend’s sister’s wedding last October, a visit. I paid my 5 dinars (about 13 US dollars) for my two-week traveler visa as I was clearing through immigrations, and waiting for me outside was Presita and her special Bahraini policeman friend. Her special Bahraini policeman had his handcuffs lying around in the backseat, and goofy little me HAD to try them on. There was a scary moment where he couldn’t find the keys; I’m not sure if he was just playing with me, or liked the concerned look on my face as he was searching for the key. They finally turned up, but not soon enough to prevent me from incurring sore wrists and a good lesson.

Next week’s column is Part Three of the trilogy, and it’s all about Europe, my adopted continent.

Episode Eleven: Tales of the Three Continent: First Stop: Oceania

2009-01-24T10:28:00.000-08:00

It was an epic vacation nine months in the making. I figured that this past winter break would have been the last full winter break that I’ll ever have: next year, it’ll be time for cumulative exams, and then the following year, I will be rotations; the year after that, it’ll be the “real world”, so I decided to go for one last hurrah, and back in March, I bought my one way ticket from San Francisco to Sydney. When it’s all said and done, five weeks in all, my passport would have gotten stamps from Australia, Singapore, Thailand, Philippines, Bahrain, France, Czech Republic, Turkey, and United Kingdom, my credit cards maxed out, and my memory filled with unforgettable encounters and experiences.

And it almost didn’t happen. As usual, my lateness almost got me into trouble. My flight was leaving at 10:30pm, and why was I still packing at 8:30pm, with my taxi waiting outside my apartment? My flair for the dramatics? My constant need for blood pressure-raising thrill rides? Luckily, there was a long line in check-in, and not that long of a line through security, so I made it in the nick of time.

Sydney: the land of the “nice players” and a long-lost friend

My vacation started out nicely. The plane was half-full (hey, I’m that kind of person) and so, I had the whole row to myself, a luxury that I was more than happy to have, given the fifteen hour non-stop flight from San Francisco to Sydney that I was about to embark on; all that I was waiting for was my complimentary drink services and I would be on my way to a jetlag-free flight. The baby three rows behind me had other ideas. After the fifth wine bottle, I was able to succumb to the beckoning call of my nicely arranged impromptu bed (take that, crying baby!), waking up after 8 hours, just in time for breakfast, followed by more wine and more sleep until I landed in Sydney Sunday morning.

After figuring out Sydney’s public transportation system, I was off to meet up my long-lost friend, the same girl that broke my heart six years ago. I haven’t spoken to her in years, but I heard from a common friend that she’s in Sydney, finishing up her nursing degree, and so I thought it would be nice to catch up after all these years; I mean, we were really good friends before, and a friendship of quality is a terrible thing to waste. I thought it was going to be weird between the two of us; after all, I basically cut her out of my life. But it really wasn’t; it was just like the good ol’ days, reliving our freshmen year memories as if were just yesterday that we last saw each other, with no hint of weirdness. I guess four years have given us both perspective and distance to review what had happened, and realized it was water under the bridge, so to speak. Not to promulgate clichés, but I guess time does heal everything.

Here’s where I first encountered Australia’s “nice players”, as my friend warily refers to them. I met Andres through CouchSurfing. We exchanged emails for a bit beforehand, and got each other’s contact info, and have decided to meet up once I arrived. We even texted back and forth, and tried to meet up, but in the end, it didn’t end up happening. I mean, what was that all about? Granted, I was only there for 3 nights, and I had a packed schedule as it was, so maybe we’ll just chalk that up as missed opportunity.

I’m not a big “tourist” traveler, but one thing that I did that was quite tourist-y while I was in Sydney was that I did the “Bridge Climb” at Sydney Harbor Bridge, through the suggestion of my friend, Fugs. It was a good experience, something that I’m glad that I did, but it’s something that I will not pay 200 Australian dollars for again. In essence, you scale the bridge, the cars, trucks and trains below you whizzing by, while being strapped to a cord dressed in a get up suitable for space travel. Of course I had to document this, forking over 40 Australian dollars to buy the photos, commemorating my crowning achievement . My reasoning was, if I could afford to pay that much to climb it, what’s another 40, huh?

Melbourne: am I back in San Francisco?

I have been told that Melbourne has a very unpredictable weather pattern, but I figured it’s the summer, and it couldn’t be possibly cold in Melbourne in December, could it? Well, let’s just say I was glad I brought a coat with me.

Melbourne bore a lot of similarities with San Francisco, from the unpredictable (usually cold) weather, the diverse neighborhoods, and the beautifully rich architecture that give Melbourne its unique flair. My friend Kieran (whom I met through CouchSurfing) met me at the train station, and as soon as I dropped off my luggage, he whisked me away to a zine launch party at a rooftop bar, hobnobbing with the Melbourne artsy-fartsy crowd, while enjoying the crisp Melbourne evening with drinks in tow, made possible by an open bar hosted by the zine launch. The “nice players” were nowhere to be found here, to my delight.

For my tourist-y quota, I decided to drive down the Great Ocean Road. When I planned the day trip, rain wasn’t in the forecast, and lo and behold, as soon as we reached the beginning of the Great Ocean Road rain started to make its presence known. At first, I was grudging it a bit (I was wearing shorts and flip flops), but soon enough I gained an appreciation for the unique way the mist-covered surroundings looked like as we made our way through the Great Ocean Road towards the Twelve Apostles, impressive rock formations off the coast (in reality, there’s only like 10 of them left, the others swallowed up by the ocean). Afterwards, looking through our photos, the rain gave the terrain a richer green hue, so I guess, I couldn’t be as mad at the rain for “ruining” my road trip. On the way back, we traveled through the rain forest, and we saw some koalas in the wild; those lucky creatures sleep sixteen hours out of the day.

Perth: where the sun lives

Aside for that one sunny day in Sydney, Perth was the place where I got my well-deserved sun in Australia. I didn’t have much expectations of Perth; the only reason I included it in my travels was to visit my friend Kris. I knew very little about Perth, only that it was the capital of Western Australia, and that there are exceptional outdoor trails suitable for hiking and biking. And I would say that out of all the places that I visited, Perth was the place that I enjoyed the most, precisely because I had no expectations. It helped that I enjoyed great weather while I was there (28 degrees Celsius and sunny throughout my stay, and rarely going below 22), so I was able to enjoy all the outdoor activities Perth had to offer.

It was great catching up with Kris. I met him three years ago while I was traveling in Spain, and we’ve kept in contact ever since. He amazes me with the amount of resolve that he has; he’s gone through a lot, and still is going through a lot, and yet he manages to stay afloat and keep positive; he inspires me to do the same. I also met up with Rod, a fellow CouchSurfer and a bull rider (he has videos on YouTube), who taught me how to throw an elbow punch.

Stay tuned next week; Part Two details my travels around Asia. Photos are available for viewing at my Facebook page; I think that pictures are worth a thousand words, and they can tell a story better than I can.

Episode Ten: I am... Sasha Fierce CD Review

2009-01-21T17:23:00.000-08:00

this was written last year, but I have forgotten to upload it here:

Beyoncé’s “double” album, “I AM…Sasha Fierce” is the newly Mrs. Jay-Z’s third solo project, following the success of “Dangerously in Love” and “B-day”. Her concept for the third album was to provide her most “personal” album to date.

On her MySpace page, Beyoncé describes the concept for her double disc: for I AM… , she reveals to the world who she is “underneath all the makeup, underneath the lights, and underneath all the exciting star drama.” And “Sasha Fierce” is the “fun, more sensual, more aggressive, more outspoken side and more glamorous side” that comes out when she performs on stage. She goes on to say that the double album allows her to “take more risks and really step out of myself, or shall I say, step more into myself, and reveal a side of me that people only know me see.”

It’s on the I AM… side of the album that Beyoncé takes the biggest risk by straying away from what has made her successful: the 808-heavy, beat-driven, club-friendly songs; instead she picks up where she left off with “Irreplaceable” and “Listen” to produce a different sound compared her previous album. With influences ranging from folk songs, acoustic rock, and alternative rock, I AM…Sasha Fierce is Beyoncé’s foray into further blurring the rock/R&B genre, and this is her attempt to get to the Whitney/Barbra Streisand status.

What’s a new Beyoncé record without a little controversy? Beyoncé’s lead single off of I AM…, “If I Were a Boy”, a certifiable smash hit, was originally written by BC Jean, and produced by Toby Gad (also produced Fergie’s “Big Girls Don’t Cry). Word has it that Toby Gad originally produced it for Ms. Jean, and ended up shopping it to major labels without success, and that Beyoncé’s strong-willed father/manager, Matthew Knowles, stiff-armed Jean to agree to give up the rights to the song, and apparently, to placate the up-and-coming singer/songwriter, a studio duet recording is going to be arranged for both Ms Jean and Beyoncé. You can check out Ms. Jean’s version of the song at her website, at www.bcjean.net.

Her other current single, “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on it)”, has stirred a mild controversy on its own. Her video for this single apparently features a transvestite. I don’t see the big deal out of it, and if it were true (this is still an unsubstantiated rumor), she’s one hot mama. But the video itself, an homage to Bob Fosse’s “Mexican Breakfast”, is quite great, with its excellent choreography and its jazz dance influences.

One thing for sure, this girl’s on the top of her game, and she intends to stay on the grind and has no plans on letting up. She plans to release a Spanish version as well as video anthology for this album early next year (February 2009), in addition to a 110-day World Tour.

Here’s the skinny:

The Good: There are numerous outstanding tracks from each part of the album. The aforementioned “If I Were a Boy” has definite cross-over appeal, and has the potential to achieve the same success as “Irreplaceable” did. “Halo”, the scheduled second single, is produced by Ryan (OneRepublic) Tedder, and features heavy drums, claps, and the piano, the last instrument being one of the central elements of I AM.... “Broken-hearted Girl”, is where Beyoncé shines. From the same team that brought her international success (Stargate) in “Irreplaceable”, and with Babyface, Beyoncé beautifully sings the verses with vulnerability and resolve. I would’ve loved this to be her second single.

From the “Sasha Fierce” side of the album, there are definitely some banging single materials there, aside from “Single Ladies”. “Sweet Dreams”, leaked months before as “Beautiful Nightmare”, has that electronic feel that is a bit different from her previous sounds; I can see this going big in the international charts, and dominating the dance club airplay. “Video Phone”, produced by Shondrae Crawford and Sean Garrett, has that Southern Crunk feel to it, and in my opinion, should have been the second single from this album. My favorite track from this album would have to be “Diva”. This Lil Wayne-inspired track is driven by her free-styling syncopation, almost rap-like, singing.

The Bad: Seriously? 11 tracks for the standard edition disc? In today’s tough economic times, how exactly are you going to entice Hockey Moms, Teeny Boppers, and Ghetto Fabolous to cop your disc with that miniscule amount of tracks? At least the deluxe edition is a little better, with 16 tracks.

As for the tracks, I could’ve lived without “Ave Maria”. She sings it beautifully, but I just felt that it was lacking something; I found myself snoozing after listening to it. “Smash into You” seems like an album filler. The Jerry McGuire-inspired song, “Hello”, is a big schlop-fest. It did nothing for me, and it seems half-baked.

The Eh:

“Ego”, from the deluxe version, is the scheduled second single from the Sasha Fierce album. This up-tempo, old-school throwback produced by Elvis Williams and Harold Lilly (who produced Alicia Keys’ “You Don’t Know my Name”) seems a bit weak to be a second single, but perhaps, to spice it up a bit, rumor has it that Kanye West will be doing a remix; that ought to be interesting.

“Radio”, produced by Jim Jonsin (who produced T.I.’s “Whatever You Like” and Danity Kane’s “Show Stopper”), seems a bit simplistic, though it definitely has that radio-friendly vibe to it. Maybe it will grow on me on multiple listens.

Final Verdict.

Beyoncé apparently recorded over 70 songs over a course of a year for this album, before whittling it down to the 16 tracks. This is her first album without any collaborations/duets, and sure there are some obvious hiccups, but for the most part, she delivers. Go ahead and cop your copy of I AM…Sasha Fierce, available now on iTunes with a special bonus song “Why Don’t You Love Me” and in your friendly (and rapidly disappearing) big box stores, and online mp3 retailers.

B/B+

Episode Nine: Civil Unions vs Marriage: Separate but Equal?

2008-11-19T21:38:00.000-08:00

As it reads now, California Family Code Section 300 defines marriage as being “a personal relation arising out of a civil contract between a man and a woman, to which the consent of the parties capable of making that contract is necessary.”

With Proposition 8’s passage, there has been much discussion as to where do we go from here? But what I ask is, maybe it is time to “create a separate but equal” institution? Render the term “marriage” as religious term, and establish civil unions as the federally recognized contract, in keeping with the separation of church and state doctrine of our Constitution.

Let's make it simple: to obtain benefits provided to couples by the State (taxes, health insurance, among other things), you apply for a civil union, regardless of your gender. If you want a religious or spiritual blessing, you seek that from your place of worship, whether you're gay or straight. When we follow the Constitution's mandate of the separation of Church and State, we can delineate what each body's business is in the process of uniting people in couplehood. In this way, we are giving everyone equal rights under the law, without damaging the “meaning” of marriage.

In an ideal world, this should work. Alas, that’s not the world we live in, at least right now. In addition to California, Arizona, Florida, and Arkansas passed anti-gay ballot measures. Florida and Arizona voters approved a constitutional amendment to limit marriage to opposite sex couples, and in Arkansas, which already has the constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage, has passed a measure to limit adoption and foster care of children to people who are legally married.

However, there’s hope. In 2000, Prop 22, which prevented California from recognizing same-sex marriage, passed with a 61.4% approval (38.6% opposed, which were about 2.9 million no on Prop 22 votes); eight years later, support for gay marriage has increased to 47% of the votes casted, to over 5.2 million . That’s a remarkable turnaround of voter approval. Exit polls showed that six in 10 voters under 30 objected to Proposition 8, while the same proportion of persons over 65 supported the measure, giving hope that I’ll be able to see acceptance of gay marriage in California during my lifetime.

In addition, the May 2007 California Supreme Court decision that in essence struck down Prop. 22, has left the door open for a possible repeal of Proposition 8, in the same vein as what happened with Prop. 22. I have spoken informally with Stuart Gaffney, one of the plaintiffs in this landmark May 2007 case, about the prospects of the recent lawsuits challenging the recent passage of Proposition 8 on grounds that Proposition 8 constituted as a “revision” in the Constitution, which requires a 2/3 vote from both branches of the California State Legislature before being put up for a vote. He’s cautiously optimistic about the case, in which he bestows his full support and trust on the lead attorneys in this case.

It is also encouraging to see elected officials filing “friend of the court” in opposition of Proposition 8. And as a country, we’ve elected a president that would usher in change; it also helps that he has backed the repeal of the Defense of Marriage Act.

Above all, if we as a state voted to give farm animals more rights, surely, we can give our fellow human beings the opportunity to express their love, right? I hope so. But ultimately, what we all can do to further the cause for equality for all is more education. Forty years ago, we still had laws prohibiting interracial marriage in sixteen states, until Loving v Virginia deemed these miscegenation laws unconstitutional. And now, generations later, as a society, we have come to terms of acceptance and tolerance with regards to interracial marriages, and I hope for the same with same-sex marriage. Tolerance is a dish served best with education, and not cold.

P.S. I higly recommend watching MSNBC's Keith Olbermann's Special Comment on Gay Marriage. At times, I think he could be a bit over the top, but I think this time, he was spot-on, and he eloquently expressed what I would wish to say.

The Halloween Scene, according to Christian Siriano

2008-11-07T21:11:00.001-08:00

Halloween is the time of the year when it’s socially acceptable to unleash our inner fantasies and act out on our fetishes; it's the time of the year when giving your best impersonation of Paris Hilton on donut powder is not only permissible, but socially acceptable as the norm.

For the longest time, I didn’t know what to be for Halloween. I almost didn’t want to dress up and go out because rain was in the forecast for Halloween; I don’t like going out in the rain. And another thing: I’d like to spend as little money as possible on my costumes. So, I either borrow clothes/costumes from other people or the more likely scenario, I choose costumes that I can still wear after Halloween. Last year, I was a French Man, wearing all black, topped off with a burette (that cost $9); when I was a junior in college, I dressed up on a Navy uniform that I borrowed from my sister.

More importantly, I hate waiting in lines; I much rather attend house parties on Halloween because of this reason. No thanks to my busy school schedule, lately, I’ve climbed into such social isolation that this year’s Halloween crept up on me, so I decided to take the easy way out and just attend the KY/DSD party at Suite 181.

All that was left to do was to figure out what I wanted to be for Halloween, which was harder than I thought. On my way home from work, my friend and I were throwing around ideas, and given my limitations, there weren’t that many; we finally came to an agreement that I should be Christian Siriano from Project Runway. I’m not as fierce and fabulous as that diminutive diva, but I figured I could give it a whirl.

Finding the necessary things turned out to be easier than I thought. After school on Friday, I went out to Crossroads on Irving, and within 5 minutes, found what I needed to channel the classic Christian/Ferosh look: black-rimmed glasses and a black vest; with my skinny jeans and white tee at home, I was set, and all for under $16. The hardest part was trying to make my hair look like his, which required blow drying, flat-ironing, dry waxing, and hair spraying the crap out of my hair. It may seem so hard to believe, but I’m very low-maintenance when it comes to my hair.

Even with all the damage that my hair sustained, by the time that I got in line for the club, my hair lost its grandiose style. Luckily, I was able to cut in line with a few of my friends and didn’t have to wait that long to get in.

As I meandered around the it’s-so-hot-it-feels-like-a-sauna- rooms, I got to check out what crazy costume ideas people came up with. You had your staples (policewomen, flight attendants, Greek goddesses). It being an election season, I was disappointed that I didn’t see any Sarah-Palin-look-alikes or her derivatives (moose, Joe Six Packs, Mr. Palin). There were some good costumes, like a breathalyzer machine (with a properly placed mouth piece), the “Love Robot”, and my friend’s “when pigs fly” costume. But by far, my favorite costume of the night was the shower curtain; the guy who was “wearing” the costume had his girlfriend (or girlfriend for the night) with him inside. Creative, naughty, and not nasty, a good combination. I couldn’t help myself but to close the curtain a few times.

The thing with Halloween, or for any “big” parties for that matter, is that for the most part, it will not live up to its expectations and hype. In a sense, sometimes the “chase” is better than the “kill”, that the events and preparation leading up to it can sometimes be more fun the event itself. Don’t get me wrong, I had a good time with my friends, but sometimes, I just don’t get the big deal out of it. Maybe it’s just our society’s ways of dealing with its hypocritical “moral values”, granting a momentary reprieve to its subjects? Perhaps as overworked Americans, we have created specific times when we can let loose, so that we can live through the monotonous nature of the “real world” and have something to look forward to?

Maybe next year I should dress up like Paris Hilton? No, I’m too fierce for that female dog.

Episode Seven: Paddling at Stow Lake

2008-10-29T23:47:00.000-07:00

San Francisco weather has its ways of altering my plans. At least this time, it was a welcomed change, one that didn’t require muttering to myself, “Just because it’s sunny in Mission Bay, doesn’t mean that the sun is out in the Sunset.” As a part of this series, I planned on going to see a movie alone this past weekend, but seeing that the weather was so beautiful (and so un-San Francisco-y), I decided to skip out on that and see what sorts of trouble I can get myself into at Golden Gate Park.

After asking around for some ideas for this series, someone suggested that I paddle rowboats at Stow Lake, and I thought it was brilliant at the time. After forking over my $20, I ventured over to the docks to board the last remaining rowboat for the day. (Seriously, $20 an hour to paddle around the green murky waters of Stow Lake? On the bright side, I probably increased my likelihood of contracting something that will land me at Moffitt; I call that a steal!).

At first, I decided that I wanted to paddle the rowboat by myself, as a part of that whole “doing things by myself” routine. After all, how hard could it be, right? For about five minutes, I was barely moving; I kept going the opposite way that I intended to go. It was one of the most petrifying five minutes of my life. This is probably what it feels like to be Sarah Palin without her debate note cards (with the words “maverick” and “Joe six-pack” written on it). After what it felt like forever, I wasn’t really going anywhere, so I enlisted the “help” of my CouchSurfing friend from Australia, who was laughing hysterically at the docks as I made a complete fool of myself.

After a short lesson, I got the hang of this rowboat thing; one oar for turning the boat in a certain direction, two oars in the same direction to propel the rowboat forward. Who knew that I was nautically-inclined?

With paddling the rowboat requiring less mind power, I was able to focus more on observing other people as I paddled along the lake (my friend served as my coxswain, for the most part). Along the way, we encountered a few couples in their rowboats, enjoying the serene and romantic atmosphere of the lake. There were moms and babysitters taking their little tykes for a walk and enjoying their trek along the lake. There was a solitary runner who appeared to have been busy ruminating about his place in the world and the true meaning of life. There was also an old couple, enjoying a picnic by the lake, somewhat amused at my lack of coordination and at my propensity to induce giant splashes while rowing.

My Aussie friend suggested that paddling a rowboat alone is futile. He reasoned that rowing is such an engaging activity that is meant to be enjoyed with the company of others; for a more obvious reason, he pointed out that I probably would’ve run into the mangrove trees or to another boat if I rowed by myself. Touché.

While he might be right with the clumsiness aspect, I think rowing could still be done as a solitary activity. It would be a great way to decompress and de-stress, combining a strenuous physical activity with serenity and plenty of fresh air. Even with his “guidance”, we still had a few close calls with mangrove trees or other rowboats, so maybe next time I should just get a better coxswain.

This is part three of the series in which I go alone to events normally associated with couples. Next week, I will try going solo to a movie, forreals this time.

Episode Six: Alone with Mark Anthony... at a Restaurant

2008-10-22T20:13:00.000-07:00

I’m going to make a confession: I have never eaten at a sit-down restaurant by myself before. I mean, I’ve eaten by myself before at the Nurseteria while studying, but I would normally run into someone that I know and end up eating with that person. I’ve always wanted to do it, but never had the nerve to try it.

So, the other day, I went to Andalu, a Tapas-style restaurant in the Mission, to try to get over myself and just go ahead and get on with it. I resisted the temptation to bring a book to read or listen to my mp3 player as I ate dinner because that would defeat the whole purpose of eating alone. Sure, it would be a little unnerving at first, with the occasional awkward stares from people, but what doesn’t kill don’t hurt me, right?

So, when I got to the restaurant, I was a little nervous that I almost talked myself out of it. What is it about eating alone that is scary, I asked myself. Is it the idea that people would look at me funny? (Not that people already don’t do that, but even more so) Or perhaps the fear of being alone and the perceived stigma that is associated with being alone? With my busy school and extra-curricular schedule, I have always reasoned that there’s always someone that I haven’t seen in awhile that I could be spending some quality time with, so when I do find myself without dinner plans, I resort to calling around and end up finding someone to eat with. As my friend pointed out to me, I may be going to dinner by myself, but I should think of it as me going out on a date with San Francisco. I felt much better after that.

As I entered the restaurant, the hostess asked me how many people in my party (one) and whether I’d like to sit at the bar; I elected to sit at a table to get the “full” experience. The place was not as busy as it could be, seeing that it was Monday night, so I got waited on pretty quickly, and I placed my order.

As the server brought out my Cambazola Cheese Fondue with Fuji Apples and Asian Pears, the irony of it all didn’t escape me. She asked me whether I was expecting someone else (a valid question, in her defense), and after saying no, awkwardness ensued; she politely excused herself out to attend to her other tables.

There’s something to be said about dining alone; it takes a little bit of bravery and self-assuredness. There’s something liberating about being able to eat alone; it’s that feeling of empowerment and self-reliance that is appealing, but at the same time, nerve-wracking. More than anything else, it made me more aware and relaxed; I’ve finally found the time to spend some “me” time. In our busy lives, we never really have the chance to stop and do just that, and we should take advantage of this whenever we can.

Even if you do feel less brave or less self-assured, it shouldn’t stop you from doing it in the first place. We learn a lot when we’re faced in difficult situations, when we’re not in our comfort zone. Personal growth comes from weathering difficult situations and learning from them. We should always strive to improve ourselves whenever we can; a seemingly insignificant act such as eating alone accomplishes this.

So all of those fears, the weird stares, they did happen, but I’m still standing and have lived to tell the tale.

Episode Five: Alone with Mark Anthony... at a Wedding

2008-10-16T21:18:00.001-07:00

When I received my invitation to my best friend’s sister’s wedding, I almost passed it up. Looming midterms notwithstanding, the prospect of going to a wedding knowing NO ONE was a little scary; well not NO ONE, but seeing that the only two people that I know that were going to be in this wedding were the bride and the maid of honor, I say that’s pretty close.

In the end, since I was already heading down to SoCal anyway, for the CSHP conference in Anaheim, I said, what the hell, there was no way I’m missing this shindig. Two words that clinched it for me: open bar; who cares if I have two midterms on Wednesday? I figured getting liquored up with the rest of the guests will facilitate the conversation and make for an interesting night.

I would say from its surroundings, Turnip Rose in Costa Mesa didn’t seem wedding-y and it was easy to miss, since it was surrounded by a medical office and a surgical center, and across from a strip mall. But nonetheless, it was a gorgeous place to have an outdoor wedding. The facility had elements of Spanish Colonial Revival architecture, from the stucco walls, Roman arcades and terra cotta tiles to gorgeous fountains in the courtyard. The weather cooperated (as is usually is the case in Southern California), and basked the newlyweds and their guests with the warmth only San Francisco (and the city supplants like myself) can only dream about.

Being the fashionably late person that I am, I rolled up into the wedding 15 minutes into it. I must’ve missed the dramatic portion of the ceremony because when I got there, everyone had a teary eye. The vows that the bride and groom exchanged were heartfelt without being overly sappy. My friend’s dad (the father of the bride) provided comedic effects with his “list”. Even the minister chimed in with his jokes. It was kind of weird to see a priest/minister crack jokes, because at least at the weddings that I’ve been to (and they’re all Filipino weddings), the priest is always serious, so that was a little refreshing.

As the ceremony ended, they allowed for an hour or so of socializing, with tantalizing hors d’oeuvres like goat cheese wonton, chicken skewers and sliders. I quickly made my way to the bar area, and made friends with the bartender, “Nick” who apparently has been working for Turnip Rose since 1994, as his name tag suggested. Three drinks later, he told me that his name is really not Nick, but Kevin, and he would’ve been 12 and working illegally if he did start work in ’94.

After my third Long Beach in a half-hour, I decided to leave Nick to see what else is out there. As I was ordering Mai Tais, (I switched since I planned on being sober enough to drive home), I met Presita, Katie’s Paris study abroad friend from Bahrain. When I saw her drinking her Rum and Ginger Ale with no ice, I know that we would get along and we immediately bonded over the sliders. She became my source for insider gossip and my fellow people-watcher.

Oh, for sure, this wedding had all the clichés. Presita told me that Person X has slept with the best man the other night and Person X slept with Person Y the following night; you could cut the sexual tension with a cake knife! There was definitely the drunken aunt, the embarrassing moment for the father of the bride, the overly imposing emcee, and the cool kids in the back drinking at the bar. Thank goodness there was no Macarena, but there was definitely the Conga line and line dancing. Oh, joy!

And then I met Laura. In one word I would say: Wow. I didn’t know that someone that beautiful could be so down-to-earth. To boot, she’s a smart, sassy, and an interesting human being. We had a great time in the dance floor and eating the kahlua-infused white chocolate-covered strawberries.

So I guess going alone in a wedding wasn’t so bad. We’ll see what happens next.

This is part one of the series in which I go alone to events normally associated with couples. Next week, I will try my chops at eating alone in a restaurant.

Episode Four: The Social Constructs of a Vice-Presidential debate

2008-10-09T21:05:00.000-07:00

There are things that you just don’t talk about during dinner: politics and religion. I’ve put this age-old adage to the test last Thursday, when the new student reception for LGBT students coincided with the Vice-Presidential debate.

It was interesting to observe the dynamics of my fellow students at dinner. We decided to watch the debates after dinner, so as to facilitate a more “social” environment. And for the most part, before the debates, the conversations skirted away from the impending train-wreck, and focused on the getting-to-know-each-other topics. But occasionally, someone will breach the subject of politics, and normally, I would think it would be a little uncomfortable to be discussing politics with strangers, but somehow, that wasn’t the case. Granted, the dinner party was a bit skewed; it’s almost oxymoronic to be a gay Republican, but it is possible.

And on to the main event: Thursday’s much-anticipated debate between Alaska Governor Sarah Palin and Delaware Senator Joseph Biden was pretty much what I have expected: political discourse filled with half-truths and not-so-subtle attacks, and pandering language with little substance. In today’s political world, it’s not necessarily what you say but how you present it that matters the most; that’s the most that I can come up with as to how and why we have courageously elected (and re-elected) Dubya. While we were all relieved and disappointed that Palin didn’t completely fall flat on her face (and I mean, really, with that Katie Couric interview, she couldn’t have done any worse), it definitely deflated the chance of the comedy-of-horrors show that I wanted to have seen. The idea was thrown around that we should’ve done a drinking game, taking a shot whenever Biden repeated or over-emphasized a word or when Palin threw around the word “maverick” like it’s going out of style; I probably would’ve required a liver transplant afterwards.

However, the hour and a half debate definitely rewarded us with a few laughs. First off, Gwen Ifill must have felt the pressure from her critics, pointing out a possible bias with her upcoming book: “Breakthrough: Politics and Race in the Age of Obama”, with an appropriately release date of January 2009, the day after the inauguration. As a moderator, she failed to reign in the candidates when they go on tangents. Biden’s feeble attempt to shake off his elitist background to appeal to Main Street America by mentioning his humble beginnings in Scranton, Pennsylvania, while in the same breath, talking about his nice house in Delaware, was both endearing and laughable at the same time. It was also amazing that Biden was able to keep a straight face the entire night and straying away from inflicting low blows to Palin when she’s handing it to him in a silver platter.

But the star of the night was Sarah Palin. We got a chuckle once Palin started ranting about women’s right. Or her inability to answer the questions she was being asked, and instead, offering up memorized incantations about taxes and the economy, even if it is not remotely related to what she was being asked.

It is a pity that there’s only one Vice-Presidential debate; factcheck.org would have less things to do now.

Episode Three: CouchSurfing: Changing the World One Couch at a Time

2008-10-08T23:16:00.001-07:00

Episode Three: CouchSurfing: Changing the world one couch at a time.

This past summer, I had the opportunity to experience what France, Germany, Israel, Belarus, Lithuania, and Detroit had to offer. And I didn’t even have to leave the Bay Area; CouchSurfing made it all possible.

CouchSurfing’s mission is to “participate in creating a better world, one couch at a time” and to “internationally network people and places, create educational exchanges, raise collective consciousness, spread tolerance and facilitate cultural understanding.” On the surface, CouchSurfing is a way for travelers to connect with people from all over the world, allowing for people to meet up for coffee or lunch, and in most cases, offering to host travelers in their house for a few days for free.

But it’s much more than that. The thing that I love most about traveling, aside from seeing the tourist-y attractions, is the interactions that I have with the locals because it helps me expand my perspectives and allows me to become a better global citizen; being a part of CouchSurfing facilitates this process. For example, I hosted Tzahi, an Israeli who’s traveling in the United States for 3 months. He’s shared with me stories about his service time in the Israeli army, and gave me his perspective about the Israel-Palestine conflict. It’s that first-person narrative that humanizes the headlines for me. Asya, the first person that I couch-surfed with, shared with me her struggles growing up here in the US after leaving Belarus when she was 7; it’s something that we had in common. I left the Philippines when I was 13, and it’s been a struggle trying to maintain an identity that harmonizes both cultures.

Geddis, my Lithuanian CouchSurfer, shared with me his experience growing up in Lithuania post-USSR, and got me to watch "Californification". Steve from Rouen, my first CouchSurfer, was on the tail-end of his three-year journey around the world that took him around Africa, Central and North America. Aside from the French lessons, he’s inspired me to be more brave and pursue things that interests me. Carsten and Esther, my CouchSurfers from Dusseldorf, has affirmed that true love can still be had; they’ve been going strong for 7 years. Heather and William, my first stateside CouchSurfers from Detroit, has taught me all about Sans Serif and Georgia O’Keefe and their experience at Creative Studies College.

Now, I know what you’re gonna say, and no, I’m not crazy... well, maybe a little bit. How can I let a complete stranger stay at my apartment? Aren’t I scared that they’ll turn up to be some crazy sociopath that will kill me in my sleep? And I think that’s the beauty with this whole social experiment. No, not the crazy sociopath part, but the whole “pay it forward” idealism of it. And in this ever treacherous and untrusting world that we live in, we can all use a little bit more trust and goodwill. As Gandhi once said, “Be the change that you want to see in the world.” This idealism is what resonates with me and CouchSurfing.

And I have met some really interesting people from CouchSurfing; not just the travelers that I have crossed paths with, but also the wonderful hosts here in San Francisco. We have a really active chapter here in the city and the greater Bay Area as a whole, with multiple events and gatherings that caters to different tastes; from the weekly social gathering, CS Underground, at Coffee Bar in Potrero, the 3^rd Sunday Potlucks, the A-Z restaurant series, language tables, museum days, and many others. These events have allowed me to get to know the amazing people that make up CouchSurfing. There’s Zach, the creator of the “Free Hugs” campaign, Dan, the party man and the brains behind the infamous “Apron Party”; Nithin, the political activist and a Karaoke extraordinaire, Walker, the Wonder Man; Gabe, the consummate party host, and one of the most adorable human being alive, Maggie, the French enthusiast and a fellow foodie; Lulu, the lovable nurse who has even more energy than I do; Cynthia, my hiking enthusiast buddy and the one and only Amy. I can go on and on, but I think you get the point.

It’s a little harder to host someone now, just because of my school schedule, but that doesn’t rule it out completely. “A stranger is a friend that you haven’t met yet”, and thanks to CouchSurfing, there are less and less strangers to me.

Website: www.couchsurfing.com

Episode Two: The Lounge Scene

2008-09-23T11:16:00.000-07:00

What’s a single guy to do on a Saturday night? Take a date out for a romantic dinner, followed by a cruise on a private yacht around Lake Como, perhaps? Oh wait, I’m NOT George Clooney. For now, club hopping would have to suffice.

Last Saturday night, my friend and I checked out the new lounge in Nob Hill/Pacific Heights, Heights Ultra Lounge. We got there around 10:30pm, and the line was surprisingly short; I’m guessing since the place is fairly new, they’re still working on getting the word out.

We quickly moved through the formalities of getting checked off the guest list and getting stamped and made our way into the bar. The standard to which I judge a bartender’s prowess is in how s/he makes a Long Beach; a Long Beach is a Long Island with grenadine or cranberry juice instead of cola. Some places make it too sweet that all I taste is the grenadine or the cranberry juice, while others, god bless their souls for making my $12 go a long way, go a little crazy with the white liquors and generously pour out the bar’s full stock of vodka, gin, triple sec and rum.

So, while I sip on my serviceable Long Beach, my friend and I were waiting for the place to start popping. We were told by my friend’s boyfriend’s friend, who happens to work for the club, that the place doesn’t start picking up until close to midnight… so I guess that explains the relatively short line to get in when we came in.

This gave me time to scope out the scene and see what’s out there. What I really liked about this place is that it wasn’t pretentious, which I found a bit odd, thinking that bougie-ness is embedded in a place that calls itself an “Ultra Lounge.” The people that worked at Heights were surprisingly accommodating, from the bartenders, to the bouncers and the guy manning the VIP section, and even the club manager, who managed to come up to us and asked us how we were doing; you’d never see that happening at Fluid. At the same time, they’ve employed decorations that were pleasing to the eye. There was a Renoir-inspired painting hanging over the sectioned-off tables. The lamps that served mainly as decorations added a quaint touch. I also really liked the placement of the DJ booth in relation to everything else. The fully-stocked bar was double sided, so it made ordering drinks easier, or so in theory. However, it doesn’t preclude them from making any missteps in the design; a glaring example would be the ill-conceived decision employing iron railings that looked mismatched to the rest of the lounge. The bathrooms could’ve been spiffied up a bit; it looked like a high school gym’s restroom. And the little elevated “stages” on the dance floor? Where are we, Tijuana? But I digress.

We eventually made it out to the dance floor once the rest of our crew rolled up. We were beckoned to the dance floor by the esoteric music set by DJ Jatrix. At first, it was 80’s music on heavy rotation, and eventually, as more and more people flooded the tiny dance floor, he started playing more mainstream hip-pop/top-40 music. Just as he’s getting into a musical groove, he’d interrupt himself with birthday shout-outs that pleased no one and annoyed everyone. To his credit though, he was pretty good with people’s song requests; it’s been awhile since I’ve heard Ida Corr vs Feddy Le Grand’s “Let me think about it” so that’s a bonus for him.

As a lounge, the Height fails in encapsulating what a lounge should be: chairs and seats that encourage “lounging” and socializing; for crying out loud, there were maybe 3 stools TOTAL in the bar area. As a club, on the other hand, it fares adequately. Drinks were a little on the high side ($12 for well drinks, $7 for shots), but in line with what other “ultra-lounges” charge. The dance floor was small, but yet it didn’t feel claustrophobic. Ultimately, what makes or breaks a new spot are the people that frequent it. My friend astutely observed that it seemed like Saturday night was Ninja night; apparently, I didn’t get that memo. Maybe as more people discover this place that it would have a more diverse crowd? Only time will tell.

Would I be coming back to this place? Well, see, my friends, I am SO over paying to get into clubs, and with a $20 cover, I wouldn’t come back to this place unless I’m on the guest list, but that could be said for any club. At least their guest list doesn’t close until 11pm, so that’s a plus. It’s MUNI-accessible through Bus 47 and 49, and there were ample parking nearby, so that’s another plus. However, I felt like I was going grocery shopping instead of going on a night out in the town. The final verdict? It would be a good place to start out the night, but given that there’s nothing really anything going on around there and the place doesn’t pick up until close to midnight, I guess I won’t be scaling up the Heights Lounge anytime soon.

Single in the city: episode 1

2008-09-15T21:16:00.000-07:00

“The coldest winter that I’ve ever spent was a summer in San Francisco”, to which my friend wryly adds, “when you’re single, it’s a LOT colder.” I pondered on that thought for awhile, and I almost had to agree. I mean, San Francisco is not exactly Daytona Beach in the summer, the recent “heat wave” notwithstanding (And the heat wave that I am referring to was in the couple of days when San Francisco’s weather was around the scorching mid-80’s.)

From there, we got into a discussion of whether San Francisco is a single-friendly city. At least we don’t have Disneyland, the land of little kids and disgustingly cuddly couples, so we have that going for ourselves. And with the abundance of varied activities in San Francisco, I’m sure that there are things to do for us single people. Right?

Why yes, there are. What I aim to accomplish with this column is to point out the places, events, and things that are worth troubling yourself with, in the midst of your crazy, studying-filled time here at UCSF. As a recent transplant myself, I can’t wait to further explore the city, and will happily pass along nuggets of information that I’ll stumble upon. Or, it’s a great excuse to go around town and get reimbursed for things and get paid to blab about my weekend. Just kidding.

To that end, a couple of weeks ago, a few of my single friends and I checked out a concert at Speedway Meadows in Golden Gate Park. Last time I was here, it was for another concert in the park, hosted by Alice 97.3, headlined by Lifehouse. Now, I know what you’re gonna say, and yes, I was surrounded by prepubescent Christian girls singing their hearts out while waving their hands in the air, but I didn’t care; Jason Wade can serenade me anytime, anyplace.

But in all seriousness, one of the things that San Francisco does best during the summer is the concerts at Golden Gate Park, and this one that we went to was no different. “Power to the Peaceful” is a “not-for-profit, non-partisan organization dedicated to the promotion of cultural co-existence, non-violence and environmental sustainability through the arts and music”, according to their website. Through music and art and activism, the organizers aim to highlight the similarities and celebrate the diversity of all of the world’s inhabitants.

The music lineup was quite impressive, enlisting the likes of Michael Franti and Spearhead, Ziggy Marley, and Warren Haynes, among others. There was also a DJ booth, spinning house and electronic music, as well as a Kids Zone, Morning Yoga, and“Taste of the World” food booths, with their eco-friendly ways of cooking.

While chowing down on some corn on the cobs sold by an organization promoting awareness of African violence, I realized how much I love outdoor festivals. The vibrant energy, the hustle and bustle contrasted with the peace and serenity, and the variety of people that it attracts always makes it an interesting afternoon. For example, there was a grandma selling marijuana brownies at a discount next to a young Vote-for-Obama fanatic and an anti-establishment middle-aged guy warning bystanders the peril s of trusting the government. My other favorites were the yoga people with their acrobatic balancing skills and this 6-year-old kid battling a twentysomething at break dancing, and let me tell you, little Ray Boyd (the little kid from Jerry McGuire) look-a-like showed up that poor guy. Will definitely be looking forward to next year’s show, though I guess what I’ll end up doing next year differently is to arrive earlier and to NOT drive. I got to the park around 1:50ish and I was not able to find parking until 3pm; I almost missed Ziggy’s set.

Maybe Mark Twain had it right with the weather, but I guess to his credit, he was probably way too busy self-deprecating to notice much of anything else.

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