Straight out of rubbish

I can't believe it's come to this.

Emails have been flying around with furious energy, heralding the imminent explosion of emotion, and colliding with each other in brilliant showers of confrontational passion.

But now that the initial dust has settled, where do we stand?

Four amazing individuals have been unceremoniously stripped of rank and privilege, and my second family has been declared "dissolved".

I've been in the process of writing a rant since Monday night, but now I can't bring myself to post any of it. Suffice it to say that I'm convinced I don't understand some things (and never will) because I have racked my brain over and over trying to make heads or tails of it... and at the end of the day, all I can tell myself is "...but that's WRONG!"



In lieu of me yelling, here's an excerpt from "Mending Wall", which is all I can do to address all the bullshit that's been flying around.

There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."

Shuffle, shift, and scatter

In the past, whenever someone would leave the city, state, or country, I would have the same reactions each and every time. Enthusiasm, excitement, utter joy that someone I knew would be visiting some fantastical new place in the world. I would wish them well, knowing that regardless of the contents of their trip, the experience would make them into a better person.

What I've taken for granted is the fact that, invariably, they would return. These travels were hardly ever permanent, and even if they would be gone for a month, two months, a year, or even longer, at some point, they would be back, and we would be able to reconnect and carry on like we used to.

Now, the onset of age has reared its head. People are graduating and literally scattering themselves around the globe. And this time, there is no defined "next time". No Gainesville, no Atlanta to come home to. Wherever they're heading for, that is home to them now. No guaranteed winter breaks, no guaranteed summer reunion. They'll be occupied in Los Angeles, Vancouver, Houston, Hong Kong, Copenhagen, Cincinnati, etc. I myself graduate in a little under a year, and have on idea where I'll end up.

Where has the time gone?

Delving into deeper districts

So I was instructed to continue the trend of posting pictures of food. How can I say no?

But first things first. My parents drove up from Florida again on Saturday, and we spent our time together doing the usual things: exploring Doraville's immigrant haven. I stupidly forgot to bring my camera along, but toward the end of the day I remembered that I still had my phone. And thus, after months of gathering dust, I polished off that once-fabled camera function and snapped the first picture that phone has seen in months.

That's kind of sorta completely not really weird. I just thought it was worth taking a photo of, at the time.

Ok I can't stand it anymore. Onward to the food!

So as I said, I didn't actually have my camera with me all day. And by the time I thought of my camera, we had left our restaurant already. It was some hole in the wall Chinese place with the cutest and most awesome staff. The mother worked the kitchen, the father worked the dim sum cart, the daughter waited tables, and the son was the busboy. This picture is just some of the leftovers that I ravenously crammed down my neck earlier today for lunch.

Starting at the top and going clockwise, this is what I had. Green beans stir-fried very simply with garlic, shoyu, and pork cracklin' (I don't know the technical term for that stuff) and awesomely delicious. Next, after the patch of barely visible white rice on which everything is resting, is something that can only be described as the pinnacle of Szechuan cooking. What you can see is the white fish pieces (it was either tilapia or Dover sole, or perhaps flounder), napa cabbage, and tons of red pepper flakes. What you can't see completely is the deliciously saffron-hued broth that had made its way into the nooks and crannies of the rice bowl. When my parents and I divvied up the leftovers, I thought I had the better end of the deal when I got most of the fish. But I took that broth for granted as I ate my meal and realized how lacking my rice bowl was without that fish broth soaking every single grain of rice. My parents called me when a couple hours afterward and described the soup they had made by recycling the broth into a concoction of cod fillets, winter squash, and more napa cabbage. The bastards. Anyway, rounding out this bowl is something that looks like spinach, but isn't. They're actually the greens of the soy plant. I like to think of them as the collard greens of Chinese folk, though I'm sure some people would smack me in the face for making such a comparison.

Aside from what you see there, we also got some amazing little wontons of shrimp, pork, and leek that were eerily reminiscent of dimsum, but served cold in a bowl, drenched in a hot-and-sweet sauce that can only be Szechuan. There was also the ubiquitous Szechuan eggplant that we always get, and some fried rice noodles that managed to keep their crispiness despite the pool of sauce that they were sitting in. We snapped up that junk like we were starving, so there are no leftover pictures of them.


But of course, my parent's are not to be outdone by restaurants, no matter how authentic.


I don't know what else to call these except buns. But they're not buns, though my grasp of Mandarin tells me that the literal translation of what my parents call them is buns. In any case, these are filled with pork and some vegetables that (to this very day) I don't know names for. All I know is that I saw a lot of them while growing up. Normally, you would eat these right as they came out of the steamer, and you'd have to be careful because the juices inside from the meats and veggies would squirt out and dribble down your chin if you bit into it too eagerly. But alas, these had been sitting into an icebox and all the juices had soaked into the dough part of the bun already. Still, awesome.

Don't be fooled by the shadiness of this shrunk-wrapped pork. It's remarkably delicious. My mom (in her infinite wisdom) bought a vacuum sealer off of QVC and has been using it on everything. The only reason you don't see it in any of the other pictures is because those items contain liquids or necessary air pockets. In any case, if you've ever walked around in a Chinatown, you've seen those stores with the ducks hanging in the window. That's what they're famous for. Equally delicious but often ignored by the masses are the cuts of crimson pork that are produced from the same venues. Think of these places as Chinese charcuteries. It's not quite ham, not quite barbecue. But they're very noticeable and very distinctive. I don't know how my parents found the time to make all of this, but I'm glad they did. I shall eat well for weeks. I'm sure if I did some research I could find out what they're called in English or Chinglish. But take note: study the red hue of this pork and keep an eye out the next time you're in the neighborhood.

TEA EGGS!! These require no further introduction or explanation. They are little bundles of delicious craziness.


The end.

Please pray for Mojo

So I realized that I haven't made a new post in over a week now, so in the next 20 minutes for before I have to run out the door and haul tail to class, I'm going to pound one out.

I've learned not to try to think about the future too much. In all fairness, it's unavoidable to an extent, but there's a fine line between sage planning and overwrought fretting.

It always begins with my professional prospects and my outlook thereof. I've narrowed my career of choice down to a neighborhood but am still clueless as to which house I should move into. And this neighborhood is pretty frickin' huge. With an INTA degree, I could go into a vast variety of fields. I could go to business school next and do international consulting. I could go into law school and work for NGOs and transnational organizations. I could continue my studies into INTA/IR graduate school and go into academia. I could attempt to enter the foreign service and go globetrotting with the state department. And the list goes on and on. And where does AIESEC fit into all of this? Sometimes I see myself being the prodigal alumnus, continually giving back by way of Mike Flood and Peter Stewart. And then other times, I can't wait to get out and let the new generation find their path. And the problem, I think, lies in my inability to reconcile the two into a suitable compromise.

And then this bleeds into the growing panic of "how will I stay sane and happy?"

I've been stricken with a serious case of the "grass is greener". When I lived at home in a small town, I dreamed of the fast paced life in the big city. And now that I'm here, I'm becoming sentimental for the comfortable ease of the small town. Not to mention, these have all be in the South East US. What about New England? What about the west coast? Hell, what about other countries? I've spent ample time in Canada, western Europe, China, and had a taste of Morocco. They all have their quirks and their special qualities. Different cultures, different ways of life, different perceptions of day to day goings-on. And this isn't even factoring in specific neighborhoods and regions. And what's the most unsettling is that I'm probably going to have little to no control over where I'm placed.

And then this bleeds into the growing panic of "what about my romantic life?"

It's disturbing how rational I've become. I haven't had a real crush in well over a year. Why? Because every time one rears its head, I analyze it until I can find something unrealistic about it. I always find something that tells me "this will never work, don't even try." Sometimes, I look back on those and think "yeah, that was a good call." And then sometimes, I think "jeez, am I sabotaging myself?" And the fact that I can say that about even one of them throws them all into doubt. I can't say for certain whether I've actually met anyone in the past couple of years that I've legitimately liked anyone. Have I, against all odds and logic, turned myself into a bitter asexual?

And then this bleeds into the growing panic of my mortality.

My parents had me at 24. That's two years older than I am right now. To me, my parents look old, even though they're only in their 40s. When I think about children, I feel it both ways. I know that to have any in the near future would be wholly unfeasible and unreasonable, but I know that to have them much later would result in a very strained parenthood. It's the perennial dilemma for our generation. Do you put your career first, or your potential children? If I were to do the jetsetting international thing, there would be no room for children in that. The lack of stability would create maladjusted teenagers. And then when I'm older, how can I expect to play soccer with my child when I'm hobbling around at age 50+? And then there's the issue of grandchildren. I want to be around to see them. But if I don't see myself living past 70, would it even be possible? And speaking of mortality, I know I have an expiration date. I don't know when that is, but I know that it lurks in the haze of inevitability. How am I going to maximize my time here on this Earth so I don't look back and say, "What a waste."

And then this makes me think about what I'm going to do with my life as far as my career and general work, which only further throws me into this vicious cycle.

GAH! Please see title and comply.

Shrouded by faceless compatriots

So it's been quite awhile since I've last stepped into the shoes of my belovedly feisty dwarf priest or my quirky but deadly gnome warlock. If you don't know what I'm talking about, just sit tight.

I never understood why people liked to put down other people over something as minor as internet gaming. And I have yet to draw a logical conclusion as to why some people make a distinction between console gaming and PC gaming, targeting PC gaming as something inherently unacceptable. Some people look down on this hobby seated on lofty pedestals while expending hours playing Halo or some other equally mindlessly violent console game. And then there are people who pass judgment without ever even trying to grasp or understand the experience that is loved by millions of their peers.

It's so easy for people to focus only on the negative aspects. And it's true; I will be the first to admit the dark side of this hobby and industry. In 2001, a man left his infant son to cry to himself in a closet while he played Everquest, and after a 24+ hour session in front of his computer, he discovered his son's corpse. A 13 year-old boy in China lept to his death as a supposed result of his addiction. And nevermind the countless students around the world that have failed classes or dropped out of school/university because of their time management.

Recently, there was a Virginia Tech suicide that people are linking to his World of Warcraft addiction.

But the percentage of players who fall into these categories probably wouldn't fill more than 1% of the entire population, and I'd bet money on that. And besides, where would you place the blame? Do you blame the product, the producer, or the consumer? So many people are quick to blame the product and the producer, and this fact transcends markets.

People place blame for obesity on McDonald's, but don't recognize the fact that they hop into a car to travel the 3 blocks it takes to get there. Why not walk off some of the calories that you're going to consume?

People blame cigarettes and Big Tobacco for health issues, and seem to invest nearly incontrovertible effectiveness in the power of cigarette marketing. It's as if we don't know any better and can always be easily swayed by neon lights and beautiful people.

People blame guns for the deaths that result from them, thinking that if they're outlawed, the amount of gun fatalities will magically decrease. Well, illicit drugs are illegal, have we seen a drop in deaths from them?

It's time to place accountability on the individual. People need to take responsibility for themselves and their children. And everyone else needs to recognize this. If your child is spending 8 hours a night in front of the computer, put your damn foot down and stop it instead of blaming Vivendi for internet nicotine. If you have to choose between studying for that chemistry final or joining your buddies on a raid-and-pillage, opt out for the textbooks. And if you see a loved one losing themselves in such a game, recognize the fact that helping them and removing the game are two completely different things.

Life has rolled on, and my obligations elsewhere have built up to the point where I can no longer devote a couple hours every day to relax with my WoW social network. If I had the time to spare, would I go back? I think I would. That's the thing that most people have a hard time understanding, I think. It is a real, tangible social network that you build in games like these.

Look back to the Virginia Tech kid that shot himself. His internet network were the only ones who knew something was wrong, and they gave enough of a damn to try and intervene. They were the outlet of his cry for help.

Back in high school, when I was a subscriber to Everquest, I spent every night with a group of no less than 60 people from around the world. And I knew each and every one of them personally. There was Raoul from Stockholm, a college student who liked to rant about tourists and talk about his dreams of moving to South Africa. There was Jody and Harold, a married couple from Minneapolis that got pulled into the game because of their son, Mark, and they decided it was a healthy form of family bonding. There was Pattie from New Zealand, who got up early every morning just to go on adventures with us, and imparted her love of cooking to me. She was a pastry chef. And the list goes on.

My experience with World of Warcraft was nearly identical. Ryan and Reagan are two high school sweethearts that moved to Houston for college, crazy kids who still insist that I come visit so they can buy me that long-awaited beer. There's Tim, Don, and Sarah, three thirtysomethings from New England who meet up every month to go barhopping in NYC and yell at the college kids. Over the course of a year they've expanded to include Sarah's husband and Tim's brother and wife, all of whom have started playing. They always tell me that if I lived closer, they'd drag me along with them. They don't seem to mind that I'm the same age as the kids they enjoy heckling. And then there's Paul and Lena, a married couple right here in Atlanta that live in Decatur. Paul's an architect, and Lena's a homemaker for their two infant children. Ironically, both are staunch defenders of the gamer lifestyle, but readily admit that they'll drop the game as soon as their children are old enough to require more attention. That is, until their kids head off to college. And of course, the list goes on.

And I'm still in touch with the majority of both groups.

Is it a substitute for the real world? No, and I'll never think so. But there's real value there.

In a lot of ways, it's similar to why I'm still with AIESEC. You come together with people from around the world and establish a wordless rapport based on common ground. With AIESEC, it's a desire to develop ourselves and improve the world. With MMO's, it's wanderlust and curiosity for an internet dreamscape. And with the advent of software like Skype and Ventrilo, those personal relationships are much easier to build.

I feel like I've digressed. Suffice it to say, it's an experience and feeling that is hard to describe. And it doesn't always induce negative responses like those portrayed in the media and pop culture.

Query the monolith

Being at home as been so boring. I am, alas, without car due to the seasonal rambunctiousness of Florida drivers (someone rear ended my dad) and have been forced to spend the days sequestered in the house. The 'rents need my car to commute to work. I guess it can't be helped.

I've been watching a lot of DVDs, writing a bunch of pensive and brooding blog entries (just you wait until they've all been proofread to perfection) to unleash unto the world, and otherwise occupied with becoming slovenly and unkempt.

Luckily, there's a bunch on my plate for next week. Example? The annual outs and abouts with Andrea, Bo, and Katie. I've missed my dear Andrea quite ravenously.

Reason why Andrea is awesome:

Andrea: "Oh Natey, please forgive me. I didn't buy you a Christmas gift. So just let me pay for the movie ticket or lunch or something."
Me: "Oh you don't have to do that!"
Andrea: "No, no. I insist. I'd feel bad if I didn't."
Me: "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't get you anything either."
*laughter all around*
Me: "So yeah, you really shouldn't feel guilty at all."
Andrea: "Well, when you put it that way..."
Me: "Tell you what. Let's pretend that we both got each other the greeaaatttest gift we could ever ask for. But we were so infinitely gracious and humble that we weren't able to accept them."
Andrea: *laughter* "So basically we both come away empty handed."
Me: "Exactly. And we both get to feel good about ourselves because we gave such wonderful gifts."
Andrea: "*more laughter* "You know, this could work."
Me: "Also, we get the added bonus of good vibes because we turned down our own gifts. It doesn't get much more selfless than that."
Andrea: "Oh Nate, I couldn't have asked for a better gift! Thank you so much!"
Me: "Me too! I've always wanted one of these!"
*hilarity all around*
Andrea: "How awesome are we?"

Well, needless to say, I took some artistic license with the specific semantics of our conversation. But still!

Resolution #2: Sleep on a more regular schedule. No more of this sometimes-a-vampire, sometimes-an-alcoholic style of sleeping.
I just thought I'd sneak that one in there.

In other news, I've been feeding the embryonic leftist revolutionary within myself. Here is said fodder. Feel free to check out the provocative article featuring the poor Icelandic woman too.

Man, the distance we've gone in the past 7 years is just staggering. And yet, I think we could probably measure real progress since then with two fingers. Can I get a witness?

End of days

I am officially done with the video.

Links here: http://atlanta.nomadlife.org/2007/12/our-life-in-15-minutes.aspx


So exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

Shalom, pallid traveler

It didn't occur to me until tonight that the AIESEC GT landscape could be completely different next spring.

It's somewhat of a bittersweet vision. Of course, there's the newer members of the present blossoming into full fledged AIESECers, and the fresh crop of newies that always reaffirms everyone's vision of what AIESEC really is.

And then there's the everpresent absence: those who have left for traineeships but their presence lingers like a sweet summer scent... and those who have moved on in life and won't ever return, gone but not forgotten.

I never realized how attached to certain people I had become. There's no other way to put it. Once all those people are gone, if I'm still around, I don't know if it'd be the same. For the first time, I understand why people return from really long traineeships and have a hard time reintegrating into their LC. Everyone they knew is gone... the LC had changed on them. True to form, home had disappeared and left an alien, yet friendly replacement.

I guess that's just the nature of things. But it's still unsettling to think about.

My lone battlecry

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'cause I've built my life around you...
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm gettin' older too...

Ties that bind

My parents came by to visit today. The usual stuff happened, they brought stuff for me to take and we went out to dinner to chat. It was a veritable food Christmas this time. But then again it usually is.

This stuff will always hold a very dear place in my heart, aside from the fact that it is the physical, gastronomical manifestation of ambrosia. More on this later.

My parents had some rather unique stories to tell me today, all of them tragic and involving birds. This pair of cardinals had set up a nest in the small tree outside of my parents' bedroom. My dad stumbled upon them one day while trimming said tree and found three little chicks being nursed. Naturally, he left them alone. One afternoon, the two parent cardinals were raising hell so loudly that my parents could hear the ruckus from the living room. They went outside to check what was wrong, and discovered that one of the chicks had fallen out of the nest, and hadn't been able to fly back up. The other two chicks were nowhere to be found; my parents deduced that they were able to fly already and had left home. My mom immediately took pity, and rushed over to pick up the bird to place it back in the tree. No sooner than when she got within three feet of the bird, she collided head on with a hawk that was divebombing the same bird, supposedly to eat it. The hawk retreated, and so did my mom, temporarily, until she realized exactly what was happening. The two parent cardinals flew off to fight the hawk, and my dad chased off our two cats who had apparently wandered in and were ready to pounce too. My mom got a hold of the bird, but realized that the nest was too high to reach. She was too afraid to let the bird fend for itself, but also didn't think it was right to take it in and care for it herself. My parents were at a loss; surely, this bird was doomed. If they let it go, some predator would come and take advantage of it. If they took it in, the parents would give it up as lost and leave, leaving my parents with no way to raise an adolescent cardinal. They reached a compromise that seemed logical at the time. They would leave the chick in a moderately sized cage outside, with holes too small for both the chick itself and other predators to get in or out. Meanwhile the parents would see that the chick was still alive, and could still feed it. My parents went to bed satisfied.

Later that night, at about 4 AM, my parents were woken up by more ruckus outside. The cardinal parents were screaming bloody murder. It was so bad that my mom was too afraid to go outside. My dad went outside, and checked the cage.

A snake had gotten into the cage and had eaten the chick. In a sick twist of irony, the snake was now stuck in the cage because of the lump of the chick in its digestive system. My dad wasn't able to tell my mom what happened until the next day. He promptly threw up and found the nearest weapon to kill the snake with. He's not a violent person, but... something snapped after all they had done to save that bird.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened either. My parents had installed a bird house prior to this, and a family of mockingbirds had taken up residence. Every day my dad would come home from work and be greated by the birds flying in and out of the house, switching off nursing duties and then to foraging for food. One day he came back and everything was suspiciously still, and he thought the chicks had finally grown up and left. Just to check, though, he went to the bird house to open the door and check inside.

Inside he found a snake within the bird nest with several different sized lumps, apparently taking a nap.

I'm not sure how I would have reacted in such a circumstance. Part of me doesn't even want to think about it. At first I was horrified that my dad killed the snake. After all, things like this happen in nature all the time. But the more I thought about it, it was much more symbolic than anything. The chick wasn't my parents' child by any means... but they took the same kind of concern for it that its actual parents did, and I guess were able to empathize with their situation. I suppose this is what all parents go through when their children are in danger. Ah, yes, such is the quagmire that is the ethics debate, isn't it?

It later occurred to me how memorable these monthly visits from my parents had become. They are now so regular, so expected. The itinerary is always the same, even. We always go to the same hole-in-the-wall restaurant, and we've had the same waitress for three years now, and she goes out of her way to get us seated at one of her tables so she can catch up with us. There's not much to say other than that... but it really does change ones perspective when one realizes that in twenty, thirty years... they'll look back on those times as vivid, fond memories.

So yeah, hence my earlier statement about dim sum, and its role in my history. I wonder if I'll be able to enjoy them as much as I do now when I my parents pass away. For now I'm not going to think about it. It's too unnerving.