Earth Hour 2009

Where ever you are, on Saturday, March 28, 2009, turn out your lights.

Spare change, sir?

I am at home in Seattle for a couple of days before heading back to "he Eug" (my pet name for the city of Eugene meant to express only mild distaste for the fact that I live there...) for the start of spring quarter. Home in Seattle usually means work and a lot of that entails driving my parents around.

Today, in the midst of our flurry of errands, we stopped by Safeway to buy some fruit, because that's what Koreans do, we purchase and eat a lot of fruit. But this is all beside the point.

Coming out of the store, we walked by a dude who wasn't quite actively peddling for hand-outs because he didn't approach me for my spare change, but it seems that when he saw my dad, he piped up and asked, "Got any spare change?"

I kept walking, as I usually do, but, my dad seemed startled by the man, audibly gasped and stepped back at the request. I looked back to make sure he kept walking, only to see my dad frantically patting his empty pockets and searching for spare change as if he were being held at gunpoint. I just chuckled to myself and kept walking while my dad kept looking for something to give the man. Eventually, my dad made it to the car. I asked him how much he gave the guy and he said, "I had only very little spare change. I only gave him $0.22."

All I could say was, "That's good enough dad." That poor guy probably had his hopes up high, only to get $0.22 and a cute smile from daddy Oh.

Made me laugh.

The Riders on the Bus...

Since I ride the bus almost everyday to get to school, I notice that I spend my time with a vast variety of people that I normally would not spend time with, unless -- I was sitting on a bus with them. I will say, in the beginning, it was quite an enjoyable experience to sit in the back of the bus and observe the different types of people with whom I share a ride with between my apartment and campus. It was almost humorous and sometimes even put a smile on my face. But after five months as an avid "busser", much of that novelty has worn off. Here are a few of my keen observations, gripes and daily experiences:

1. Mr. Dry-Oatmeal-in-a-Large-Tupperware-Container in a Brown-Paper-Bag Man" disgusts me now.

2. Playing the "From Where, or Whom, Is That Smell Coming?" game has lost its luster and is no longer a game, but more like intuitive curiosity. Kind of like when someone says, "Who farted?" then everyone in the room sniffs real big to 1) confirm that someone farted by smelling the fart for themselves, then 2) saying, "I don't know, it wasn't me, but yeah, someone definiitely farted."

3. Just when I thought there was no other combination to add to 1) cigarette smoke, BO and onions, 2) cigarette smoke, BO and pastrami, and 3) cigarette smoke, BO and BO, just yesterday I discovered a new combo: cigarette smoke, BO and whiskey.

4. The riders who scream while on the bus annoy me the most. Luckily that has only happened a few times.

I do give Lane Transit Authority as an entity props though for having some of the nicest bus drivers around. I miss my old bus driver from fall quarter who would always yell from the front of the bus, "Have a nice day!" whenever anyone got off the bus, or "Study hard!" when he made his drop at campus. Most of the bus drivers say "Thank you" when people depart the bus and I have not yet once had a bus come late or depart behind schedule. They do a good job here.

I guess another positive observation are the mornings where I sit on the bus and try to imagine what kind of lives these people live or have lived. How did they get here? What kind of life experiences have they had? What talents do they have that I don't? There are many fellow riders who seem very interesting to me.

In particular, we pick up several mentally challenged regulars. Same time, same place. I look at them and I see how content and happy they are. They all have some kind of carrying case for their lunch. They get off at various stops around town and I wonder where they go. Work? School? I listened to one of the girls read a story about her cat to another passenger and though I thought the story was weird and lame and feared that one day I would revert to writing a story about my cat, I was enamored by her simple affections for her fuzzy friend and the pride she took in the story she wrote.

Observing the people on the bus has become a normal part of my day and when I am not totally disgusted by the smells and the crazy things people do to their hair, it is actually an entertaining and interesting experience.

No LDS in Eugene

There are no LDS in Eugene! Well, it seems like there are no LDS in Eugene. This statement can be interpreted in two ways, maybe more, but only two I care to address:

1. There are no LDS in Eugene: Not true. There are a lot of Latter-day Saints in Eugene, just not many my age that do not already have three kids, of which I am totally fine with. The LDS that are here, are dope. This is not my beef. Please see item 2.

2. There are no LDS in Eugene: According to my standards, true. There are no Local Donut Shops in Eugene and it is frustrating. I Yahoo'd "donut shops in Eugene" online and found five. FIVE shops! Eugene is home to almost 155,000 people! It is the second largest city in Oregon! And it spans 40.6 sq. miles! (whatever that means) Yet there are only five donut shops to feed the entire Eugene population?!

It angers me.


Maybe there are more donuts shops out there that I do not know about, but the fact that I do not recognize ever driving by one or knowing where one is off the top of my head, just goes to show that there are not enough LDS in the area.

What do I have to do to get a donut around here?!
- The donuts sold on campus are way over-priced. The cake donuts are priced the same as the raised donuts and that right there is indicative of the campus cafe's lack of donut knowledge.

- I refuse to settle for below par donuts from Safeway and Albertsons. Those days are so high school. My palette is much more developed and refined now and if I am going to munch on fat, it better be good fat. A Safeway donut would be an insult.

- I do not see the ingenuity in a bakery or a local coffee shop which only offers a small variety of donuts next to its array of other inferior baked goods, the two are clearly incomparable.

If I want a donut, I want it from an LDS. Is it too much to ask that there be at least one LDS somewhere near me? Of the five truly committed LDS here in Eugene, none of them have I yet run by, driven by or even happened upon. I went searching for three the other day, all no less than a 5-mile drive, and the results were as such:

- now a Korean restaurant (admittedly, not a bad substitute)
- closed
- open with only buttermilk donuts.

I admit, sometimes life is just hard. It is not always roses petals and shell-shaped soaps, and as such, not Krispy Kremes and Winchell's. Ho hum...I just do not feel like I am expecting more than what makes sense. I would not mind a little donut shop on the corner every few miles to reassure me that everything is going to be fine. Donuts make life better.

Bottom line: If I died a horrible death but with a lion's bite of donut in my mouth, everything would be ok. I would only hope my grieving family and friends would feel the same way and know that I went in peace.

Donuts. My love. My joy.

Funny grandma...though likely fake.

I saw this video post from the Ellen Degeneres show and I cracked up!

Ellen calls a fan who had left a message telling Ellen to move the "spikey" plant behind her because it was distracting. The exchange is unreal and so funny.

I think the grandma isn't real which is unfortunate, but it's still hilarious! It's worth the full 6:51.

Packages in Pink

Today, I felt like a missionary on P-day all over again.

I can not stress enough what it is like to receive mail that is not demanding money for services rendered! I love it! And today was so great!

I came home from a long day studying for mid-term exams to find a key to the "big" mailboxes in my usual mailbox mixed in with my usual mail. Getting a "key" is every mail-mongers dream as it means you got something BIG! Since I have been in Eugene, I have received "the big key" a few times and every time has been exciting. Today was no exception. Inside the BIG box was a perfectly wrapped package in brown paper with familiar writing I recognized as Rachel's, which was even more exciting, because she ALWAYS sends good stuff!

Smile on face and package held tightly against my chest, I walked happily to my apartment with an added hop in my step. When I finally opened the package, my excitement quickly faded. What I saw nearly made me barf.

Pink. Pink, pink, pink. Blech. Who sends pink to ME? Since when is pink in my life acceptable? Who decided that pink was okay? What makes pink necessary, at all?!

Rachel knows me well and intentionally bombarded me with pink crap, which is exactly what pink stuff is: crap. But could I really complain? The package was so cute (pink = cute) and everything in it, despite being pink, was what I liked.

So, I figure, I will have to plug my nose when I eat the strawberry Whoppers or draw a black Sharpie 'X' on all of the Hello Kitty bandages, but that is okay, because it was such a great surprise for a hectic day and I loved it. I know it was sent with love.


Thanks Rachel! You'll always be my favorite sister! I love you!

Rockin' the Hair

I would like to just squeeze these too!