The one that should have been posted last Thursday

I's a good thing they moved the airport to Lantau, so I don't have to see the city's harborscape from the plane. Otherwise i'd be gone. Just gone. Hong Kong at night is altogether too tempting. And Holiday Hong Kong? This is like staring Dream Girl in her suddenly shy eyes underneath the mistletoe. And i can't kiss her. dammit dammit dammit. This is completely unfair. I cant think of anything I like more than Holiday Hong Kong at night. Future wife, I hope you're listening. If I ever seem a bit too reluctant to ask a certain question, convince me to take you to Holiday Hong Kong. It works every time. I mean, I'm sure it'll work the first time.

Mai Soshul fo paw (it's phonetic, not foreign)

I'm in Bangkok for a couple of days to attend some meetings on Avian Influenza. There are a bunch of business people, especially from food and agricultural industries, like McDonalds, Cargill, and Tyson. Also, I'm easily the youngest person at these meetings. This has its advantages and disadvantages. Some of the disadvantages include: no one takes me seriously at first, people don't usually try to approach me to talk, and There actually aren't any advantages really. Well maybe one. Wednesday evening the participants of our meeting were invited to a cocktail party by the hotel's pool. I figured that it'd be a good chance to meet some of the other people. So I thought this would be like a pool party. I almost wore swim trunks. I decided instead on jeans and a collared shirt. I arrived (half an hour late; who knew that red lights could last 15 minutes?) to a gathering of suits. Awkward, party of one. Well, it wasn't any worse than it had been already. I got to listen to a man from the US Department of Agriculture explain how fake pear bacteria are causing $5 billion economic problems between the US and China. Let's rewind a few days so I can tell you about Espy, my new roommate, who arrived on Saturday. Espy is 19, and taking year's break from school to work doing public relations for ADRA Vietnam. I think he's designing a web site (sorry Jill, maybe it'll suck and we can improve it). He's pretty funny, and we get along well. It helps that he cooks, and I know enough numbers in Vietnamese to get stuff at the market. We're taking Vietnamese lessons together now, and he'll very soon surpass me (actually he already has; in my defense, I hadn't learned any Vietnamese before he arrived). But he already speaks like four languages, and I'm thinking that might be something of an advantage. So we have some differences. Also he has a girlfriend, is diligent in his work, preferred Goal! to Fight Club, and has lived in Kenya. I'm half jealous. Or maybe a little more than half, but less than 3/4. I'm bored. I should fill out one of those Christmas surveys, so when it asks if I've ever kissed under the mistletoe I can write something like "unwillingly, or unwittingly" and feel very clever and then see how the clever thing is working out for me. It usually works pretty well, especially here in Vietnam where no one understands my simple sentences (such as "No meat."), much less any of my wordplays. It's now almost 6 am and I've been up all night annoying people. It happens.

My New Plan

It's a little thing I like to call everyone makes my Top 8 at some point or another. So if you're feeling like you're not getting John's Top 8 respect, send me a note or a Howler and I'll remedy it. But family always makes the list, so if you want a permanent spot you'll have to marry in or at least volunteer a sibling. And I'll post for real later. I promise. But at the moment I'm at work and "supposed to be doing work-related things." Somehow this doesn't count. Maybe I just should have not asked.

No more philosophy; back to facts. Or at least things I imagine.

The city was screaming and groaning a lot last night. There must have been a football game on. And by football I mean soccer, not American football. The past week has been fraught with bad ideas on my part. I would like to report that most of those potential disasters never made it past the thinking stage. For those of you who know better, please refrain from reporting my fall from repute here. I'm sure there are whole message boards reserved for such things. And no, I will not be answering any questions regarding a grey sock, a bag of tofu squares, and a chicken. I'm just glad that I wasn't in the range of cameras when the little rogue cut through my belt. I hadn't realized that I'd lost so much weight here. Mom, I need a new grey sock. I don't need that grey cloth belt anymore. I learned that chickens in fact don't sink when you throw them in water, they just get angry and grow poisonous talons. The weather here got cold almost overnight. Truthfully it took two nights. One day it was mid 70s. The next it was 40s. And a cold wet 40s. Humidity sucks. Cold humidity is just so freakin chilling. It's like living in an ice bath. But at least with the cold weather I get to wear warm clothes that don't reveal my emaciated body. It's not that the Vietnamese food isn't good, it's just that I don't trust my chicken, cow, pig, and fish impressions combined with the shaking of my head is enough to inform the restaurant owners that I don't eat meat. So I have to cook for myself. Let me just say that when rice burns, it doesn't all burn at once, and I can usually salvage the top inch or so. I convinced a girl to read me The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I'm excited. And when I say convinced, what I really mean is that she hasn't said no yet. I'm not sure that she's actually had the opportunity to say no. Basically it'll be a surprise. I mean, it won't be a surprise to me; I'm the one who planned this in the first. I'm finally to understand my work here. It's a lot of meeting with people and government officials (who are people too, except for that one meanie that served a very strong and bitter tea that I politely sipped (because I'd feel embarrassed to have a cup full of tea sitting in front of me), but apparently i sipped too much because the guy then refilled my cup, and the whole process started anew). Still, it's pretty cool to ask governments for $500,000. I hear I'm getting a roommate tomorrow night. All I really know about him is that he's Congolese (I'm not sure which Congo he's from), but I've decided that his name is Chris Turk (or maybe Cal Turk) and that he's going to medical school with me next year. Speaking of medical schools, I got my first interview invite. The double L. Yeah boy. Someone tell Erik Nielsen hi for me. Danielle, maybe call him or something. Or at least get me his email address; I seem to have lost it or never known it in the first place.

Hate mail to a long dead author, who remains annoyingly influential

At Delphi, a place in Greece where these old hags, or oracles, got visions by inhaling the methane that was exuded from fissures in the rocks, there is a temple to Apollo. The temple houses two rather famous phrases: "Know thyself" and "Everything in moderation." These quotes are often considered to be jewels—finely cut quotes that have stood the test of time. Generally speaking, yes, they're concise and sound nice. Know thyself is alright. It's a nice little self-evaluation. Figure out your strengths and weaknesses. Recognize your potentials. Find out who you are. But it sounds too much like a process of discovery. Like you're a person who's already formed but just has to be fully unveiled. It's very predestinarian. Which is fine, if you're an ancient Greek who believes in the certitude of fate. Or if you're Martin Luther or Calvin. But they'd call it something different. But it's determinism from most points of view. And that's OK. Some people like that certainty. That capital T Truth. But I'm not so clever, and don't easily discover Truth. Or sometimes Truths become truths. And then that's messy. It's also messy when someone else has a Truth they think everyone should hear, and their Truth disrupts the peace. I'll stop with the philosophizing, but I'll suffice to say that until everyone everywhere has the same Truth truths, there will be no Peace. And given the choice, I'd take peace over truth any day. But that's the scientist in me talking. And if that doesn't make sense, just ask me about it some other time. Everything in moderation. This is a f-ing lie. Moderation is an exuse. An excuse to drink, or to smoke, or to eat another piece of cake, or to not eat another piece of cake. It's an excuse to stop work at 5, or to obey the 3 second hug rule, or to not sing and dance when you're so happy you just might die. Moderation is middle of the road. It's mediocrity. It's status quo and self control and unaccomplished. Seriously, what has moderation ever done? It's a safety device. It keeps people from colliding with their cars or their lips. But I'm pretty sure it didn't build the Taj Mahal or the pyramids. It didn't invent the light bulb or paint Starry Night. I mean, do you seriously think that Oppenheimer and Einstein were moderate? What about Muhammad Ali or Mahatma Gandhi? Florence Nightengale or Napoleon Bonaparte? Jesus? Was Jesus moderate? Think about it. Or don't. Go ahead and believe the Greeks. Anything that's well written and sounds clever makes for good Truth. So tell a girl you love her moderately. Ask for a moderately skilled dentist. Listen to moderately good music. Just don't hope to find me around. In other news, my wall is chirping.

My cook-for-myself Thanksgiving

Yesterday I had the good fortune of spending a Western holiday absent from all things Western. Wait, I did the lying thing in my last post. Yesterday I had the bad fortune of spending a Western holiday absent from all things Western. It's not that I'm particularly attached to mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. I love good food in general, and have been missing it since I left home. So it's not about the food, or at least not more so than every other day here. My family and I have a love-tolerate relationship. But Thanksgivings are never on the tolerate side of the spectrum; they're far too delicious for that. Maybe I'm just romanticizing all of the past Thanksgivings, but I'm pretty sure that I even offered to help, and then did actually help, with preparations and clean ups for these events. (Not that I normally don't help, because I'm capable of being very helpful, but my utility on any given Thanksgiving is above reproach). I've been away from home at Thanksgiving before, but when I was in Hong Kong my uncle, sister, and cousin visited me and we had dinner at Fat Angelo's. Yesterday there was no family. I couldn't even bring myself to leave my apartment, so I stayed here and made myself rice noodles, fried up some tofu with a delicious soya sauce (which, strangely enough, had a picture of a fish on the label), and boiled some water so I could learn that this Milo stuff doesn't taste much like hot chocolate. In good news, it looks like I'll get to return home for Christmas. The bad part about this is that now I'll have to get gifts for all my relatives. Of course, they wouldn't be too disappointed if I didn't bring back gifts, because most years this is the case, and if I was to ask them what they want they'd only say, "Oh JB/Jumbs/Mr. Sun, you don't need to worry about gifts for us; your presence here is a gift enough." Well my little brother would probably ask for a VidiPod, and my sister would probably ask me to talk to Mom and Dad again and convince them that she needs my car (and it's manual transmission that she can't drive but that she thinks she can learn in 3 or 4 hours) back at college. And my cousins (yes, mostly you Peter) would just tell me not to bother, because they can't be bothered to find something for me. Still, gifts always beats no gifts, so long as it's really a gift and not a revenge or a manipulation. Now it probably sounds now like I'm just complaining. I probably am. Am I trying to appear pathetic? Maybe, but not consciously. Really, I'm quite happy, for reasons I haven't discussed here. My posts are often, in the names of reticence and entertainment, incomplete and slightly skewed versions of my self-perceived reality. So enjoy the good stories, hyperboles, and fibs. Believe what you want, and laugh at the rest. Congrats Lisa and Carl. I'm very sorry that I am not able to attend the ceremonies and celebrations, but please know that I wish you the best as your lives and loves continue to grow together.

it's over

ok, i'm done with blogspot for now, because I can't view my posts. I can post, but I just can't see how it looks, so now you'll find all this at www.myspace.com/jwooch.

Negativity (lies upon lies)

I didn't return to Hanoi yesterday. I didn't ride in a plane with a screaming child in the row in front of me and I didn't sit next to an old lady who three times couldn't figure out how to unbuckle her safety belt. I wasn't then taken back to my living quarters by a taxi who didn't have to stop probably six times to ask for directions. I didn't feel stupid for not knowing where I lived.

I didn't spend Saturday night in my hotel room. I didn't buy pirated DVDs from the Chiang Mai night market. I didn't watch Goal!, and I didn't find it sufficiently entertaining, even though it wasn't completely predictable.

I'm not absolutely furious with Fox for cancelling Arrested Development. I'm not thinking about defacing their garden gnomes with a Sharpie and a handaxe, and possibly some mule urine. I won't be consoled when Scrubs starts back up in January. I'm not completely in love with Zach Braff in a totally hetero-male {or at worst metro-male} appropriate way.

I'm not constantly woken up by the exorbitant amount of noise that goes on in my neighborhood. I don't think I hear an old woman creaking around the compound singing in a parrot voice, "Why'm I here, God?"

I don't mind sink-washing my clothes again. Nor do I mind cold, no water pressure, shower-curtainless showers that force me to sit in the tub like I was taking a bath and spend four minutes trying to rinse my body of soap, only to not dry off with a towel that won't dry from the humidity so it won't start smelling of mildew again tomorrow. I don't mind finding ants on my toothpaste container or finding my dress clothes wrinkled in my suitcase because I still haven't no hangers, and even if I didn't have hangers, I wouldn't have a place to hang them. I don't mind showing up on the first day of my job to a government meeting with all the other relief organizations present in awkwardly creased clothes, wearing khaki's that haven't seemed to have lost a key button, not forcing me to cinch my belt extra tight against a stomach that doesn't hold only a can of raw Superlinks because I couldn't find a food place close by and wansn't able to get the stove working. I'm not hoping that Thanksgiving will be much different.

I don't need a hug.

loy krathong is going on now and it's the coolest thing

Thailand has the best idea ever. It's called loy krathong, and it's a light festival. I will briefly try to describe it, but no amout of words will do it justice. It's 3 days of firecrackers and parades and flower-filled banana leaf boats that we toss into the river to carry our burdens away. And then there are these sky lanterns, which are like luminaries for the heavens. Little hot air balloons that speckle the sky like incredible stars. It's pretty damn romantic. I'll definitely be returning here.

My program here is finally clear. I'll be gathering information, writing proposals, and developing programs. My specific concerns are going to be avian flu and tobacco risks for HIV/AIDS patients. Yes, it does sound very high and noble, and I'm hoping that's how the medical school admissions committees see it. And then I hope they like high and noble. I am excited. I can't wait to get back to Hanoi and start working.

It must be the humidity or something, because I'm finding that I need more sleep than I'm used to. It's more bothersome than anything else. Also, I've been eating larger but fewer meals. I haven't had breakfast in a number of days, and lunch happens about half of the time.

I got a sudoku widget for dashboard. If you have no mac, this won't make sense. And if you don't know how addicting sudokus are, you probably won't realize how difficult it is for me to get anything done on my computer now.

Big shoutouts to Doug, Jarrod, and Danielle. I don't think anyone else knows about this page. I ask that we keep it that way until I go back and fix some things I wrote earlier that really don't have to be general information. And if anyone else is reading this, well I suppose I'd like to know so I could pretend that I care. Or be slightly embarrassed. Or censor myself in the future.

The Vietnam tour was a lie, both by me and the government

No that's not true. But here's the real story. I left home, spent a day in Bangkok so I could get a Vietnamese visa, and then I was off to Hanoi.

For a whole 2 days. No wait. Not even two days. About 42 hours. And a few of those were spent in the airport.

Then I was back to Bangkok to take a train (yay trains!) to Chiang Mai, Thailand for ADRA leadership meetings. APLI to be specific, and that stands for ADRA Professional Leadership Instruction, or Institution, or Inoculation or Inundation.

The meetings are OK. I sometimes wish I had a book. Or a make-out buddy. But mostly a book. It'd be a bit awkward to do anything with a makeout buddy during Adventist meetings, except maybe read a book with her. I thought about sneaking out of the meetings, all stealth, and then sneaking back in to get all the bored people out too. It would be very underground railroad Harriet Tubman-like.

I've been waking up early, around 4 or 5, so I can get online and work on medical school applications. Yup, that's all I do.

I've been getting lots of sweet secondary application love from medical schools. There's also some hatin' involved, as Yale has decided to give me less than a week to fill out their secondary application. At least my letter of recommendation people have been exceptionally cooperative. I hope that also means that they're writing me delcious letters that will get me interview love.

I finished Cien Años de Soledad and Franny and Zooey. Both rocked. And now I've given them both away. I love to give books I like away. It's like I'm proselytising. Hooray for my religion. Hooray for me.

One day I'll learn to post up pictures. That way I can show you how ridiculous I look as a white guy on the back of a motorcycle with a girl driving instead of just having to tell you that it was pretty much the most embarassed I've been in a long except for about an hour ago. But that hour ago story isn't one I'm ready to tell yet, or ever, so just forget about it.

And forgetting about it is something I'm good at. Just look at how often I update this page.

Vietnam ho!

I'll be leaving to Vietnam sometime soon, but not before wednesday, which is when I get my final vaccination for Japanese encephalitis. This immunization hasn't been one of my favorites, due in large part to the fact that the vaccine is made from the brains of mice. Yes, you read that correctly. I have been getting tiny mouse brains shot into my arm for the past two weeks.

I got my first seconday application today. It was from Dartmouth. I'm smiling.

I think I'll get a lot of secondary application/interview lovin' from medical schools. The fact that I railed the MCAT has many things to do with all this free love.

Got back from New York and Boston on Wednesday. It was freakin awesome. Especially the museum of modern art. I want to live in that building so I can wake up with Picasso and Matisse lining my walls.

I'm too lazy to write any more now, but with some luck I'll find motivation later.

It's been a while

So I've been slacking. What can I say? This isn't exactly a priority. Though I can't say that I have many priorities these days.

The Vietnam thing is going to work out. Hooray. Now I can bring back that avian flu to all my family and friends. Don't worry, that was the last black humor on this post.

I leave to New York and Boston in just over a week. I just got from visiting my sister at Andrews. I don't have that I want to say about either of those trips yet. Maybe later.....

I hate medical school applications. I also hate parents insisting on seeing them, and then insisting that I change certain things.

I also hate having to share my computer with the whole house. And having to move it out of my room.

Maybe I'm just angry.

I can't wait to get out of here. Can I say that? It feels so disrespectful. But my family makes me more angry than anything else. Well, can't say I like security hugs from unauthorized people. And animals, children, and loud women...

I am angry.

I can't be angry. I've been so wonderfully happy lately. I think I'm probably just anxious about a couple of things. One of those is probably medical school applications.

Something I did after reading Franny and Zooey

Here's a short list of things I plan to do during the course of my life.

Number one goal:
Finish Medical School and become licensed.

Other goals:
Pass the bar
Write a book worth reading
Hold a public office
Hold a church office
Play in an orchestra (even a community one, so long as its good)
Start and run an orphanage or health clinic in a place that needs it
Compete at Olympic tryouts (probably in swimming)
Learn 3 other languages
Read all the books on my ever-growing To-Read book list
Be in a play or musical (preferably musical)
Have dinner at the White House
Visit 100 countries
See the northern lights (the reds and yellows, not just that blue-green)
Visit outer space
Climb Mt. Whitney, Kilimanjaro, and Fuji
Get a private pilot's license
Run a marathon/compete in a triathalon
Go to a World Cup (soccer) game
Figure out who Jesus was so I don't confuse him with Solomon or Moses or St. Francis of Assisi or Erasmus or Thomas a Kempis or Jan Paulsen
Fail a whole lot at something but not give up (I'm hoping this one doesn't involve a woman)
Always drive a crummy car that on ego days I like to pretend I'm too good for
Give blood 100 times
Save the world (yeah, I'm one of those types)
Sing Bass solos for a performance of the Messiah
Coach a church softball team

There are many other goals I have, but some aren't quite appropriate. I can't very well go around proclaiming to the whole internet world that one day I'd like to really kiss a girl. That's just not something you put on a lifetime to-do list. I mean, that could work on a list of things to do for a day. I'm very good at making lists, by the way. Checking off each little bwat is very enjoyable for me, even if I have many empty bwats at the day's end.

Some other goals just aren't so easily quantifiable. For instance, learning to be more patient is a goal, but it doesn't have an easily identifiable endpoint, therefore, it doesn't quite belong on the above list. Even learning 3 other languages is sketchy in this regard.

Furthermore, I realize that many of the items on the list would appear on many other peoples' lists. This is a testament to the era I live in. I might have written "Meditate in the desert for five years" or "Win 10 duels," but I do not consider such things to be priorities. This, of course, is subject to change. Moreover, not all of the items on the above list are of equal priority. Their above arrangement is merely the order they came to mind.

Also, the above list is maybe a tad unrealistic. I will not be overly disappointed if I don't complete each of the tasks, but then I tend to get more done if I have a lot to do, so I don't plan on trimming the list down either.

Hope this helps. If you want to know more specifics let me know. I'll be spending a good portion of the day on the piano and trumpet (I'm giving my medical school applications a day's rest, or rather, yet another day's rest).

Confirm purchase: 1 month subscription of "Inactivity Unlimited"

Since no discernable progress has been made on the aforementioned list, I'll content myself to continue rambling about increasingly unimportant things.

I wrote a certain type of letter (my first, in fact) a month or so ago. It was nice and flowery and well metered with many a literary technique applied to it. I even took the time to revise it. Of course, I have no intention of ever showing this bit of writing to anyone, ever, save maybe a 26-year-old, heartbroken, angry-at-the-world version of myself. Yesterday, however, I discovered a set of papers that had been with my letter in a pile of my mom's stuff. The pages of the letter itself have yet to reveal themselves. I'm trying really hard not to make the connection.

Summer reading list (completed):
A Storm of Swords - George R. R. Martin
Tao Te Ching - Lao Tzu
Life of Pi - Yann Martel
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - J. K. Rowling
Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
High Fidelity - Nick Hornby
Eragon - Christopher Paolini
Eldest - Christopher Paolini

Currently reading:
Franny and Zooey - J.D. Salinger
The Brothers Karamazov - Fyodor Dostoevsky

Future reading:
The Brothers K - David James Duncan
One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
For Whom the Bell Tolls - Ernest Hemingway
Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe
In the Beginning - Chaim Potok

Ambitious, I know, but I've always been better at reading than doing things that actually should be done.

I strained my back the other day, so I put ice on it. I even slept that way. Now my bed smells like peas. Like the kind from the pod that you freeze.

All beginnings are difficult

If I was to prioritize my life at this moment, opening myself up for public derision probably wouldn't make the Top 100. But I was never very good with numbers, nor priorities.

Well, maybe we (as in the collective I) will jot down a few priorities, just so I don't have to explain these things verbally to every person.

- resume work on Med school applications
- contact ADRA, Greg Frykman, and that school in St. Croix to see if I have a job next year
- wait and see if the Red Cross is going to need me in Baton Rouge
- email cool people that I don't talk to enough otherwise
- read another children's book
- wear pants tomorrow

I know it all sounds very ambitious and strenuous, but I have been going about these tasks at a modest pace. Wait, I misspoke. I've been thinking about these tasks at a modest pace.

I'll leave at this; any more and I might feel compelled to check my spellings, which is not a summer activity.