Saturday, December 31, 2011

Callers who make me rAgE

1. Telemarketers of all flavors.
2. Callers who don’t respond to my “hello?” greeting on the phone within 2 seconds.
3. Callers who respond to my “hello?” greeting with yet another “hello?” It only takes one “hello”! just tell me who you want to talk to so I can pass the phone and be done with it.
4. Relatives to respond to my telephone greeting with, “Tony? Is that you?” -_-
 Tony rage face.
(Originally posted Dec. 28, 2011)

Old friends

What is it that compels us to return to that which is old and familiar, comfortable and known? Much as we always return home (whatever “home” may be to the individual) with a sense of longing, an indescribable tug at the abdomen, we revisit old relationships and friendships, searching for some shred of the comparably secure past. 
There is a particular warmth and anticipation when one glimpses an old friend for the first time in many intervening years. A sense that you he who stands before you, eager to receive the renewed tenderness of easy friendship of someone at once so familiar, yet so foreign. With some minutes, you warm up to the gestures and undulations of the friend’s voice and to regain past comforts, to remind yourself of the other person, to retrieve from the depths of memory the characteristics and idiosyncrasies of the companion you recollect from years ago, and compare notes with the current form.
The shifting nature of change and time is uncomfortable because it is unfamiliar, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to search the person for clues of the past, to remind you of your old pal and, perhaps, of your old self. Sometimes one realizes that you’re both the same flesh as you had been years ago, but that time and divergent paths of molded two different people, for better or for worse. You’ve both grown up.
Just as it is impossible to preserve the ephemeral, so, too, is the futility of imposing an unnatural constancy of individuals. Rekindling old friendships is one avenue through which to piece together the image of who you were and how far you’ve come, whether you’ve become corrupted with want during the intervening period, or disillusioned by the tides of reality. Who you are is ever-changing, colored by the prejudices of the times, subjected to the woes of the moment, prospects of the future, and memory of the past. Just as your friend has changed, so, too, have you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t try to anchor yourself — if only temporarily — to the past by visiting the comfortable affections of an old friend.
Tie-dye-stained fingers (summer 2010)

(Originally posted Dec. 26, 2011)


A million thank-yous for those of you who have been so incredibly kind to me on my birthday. I am overflowing with happiness and feel truly blessed. Quite honestly, today is one of the happiest days I can remember and I think everyone deserves to feel the way I do on their birthday. My heart is full and I have not words to adequately convey how humbled I am by the warmth of all your words and well-wishes.

Thank you, truly.

My roommates surprised me with a birthday cake at midnight

(Originally posted Dec. 12, 2011)

Things that ought to go away (Part 1)

1. Noisy online advertisements. There are few things more violently irritating than having 20 tabs open but not being able to find the one with the stuuuupid noisy ad. -_-
2. That ANNOYING, immature kid who spams the RodChat listserv with irrelevant comments pertaining to Pokemon. No, I do not want Pokemon Rodman T-shirts nor would I be interested in a Pokemon-themed RodSem.
3. Justin Bieber.

(Originally posted Dec. 4, 2011)

PAFN parting shot

Apart from academics, college is about exploring yourself — pushing yourself beyond your boundaries so you can truly explore who you are and what you’re capable of. College certainly has been quite a journey for me, and something I’m clinging to desperately still. Being a PAFN advisee, advisor, programming co-chair and now outgoing co-chair has all contributed to forming the individual I am today.

Some “golden nuggets of advice,” as my fellow co-chair Nalin C. would say: Don’t spread yourself too thin by trying to be a member of every notable organization on Grounds or becoming the president everything. Once you leave the University, nobody cares if you were the president of XYZ and spent 60 hours a week keeping the organization afloat; the only thing that really matters is your GPA. 

The point is this: do what you love doing and be around those whose company you truly enjoy. Surround yourself with good people because we learn from the individuals with which we spend the most time. You’ll spend 4 years of your life at the University, so why not befriend the people who bring out the best in you?

Where does PAFN fit into this? Well, it was through PAFN that I met a few of my best friends at the University, and being a part of PAFN in its various facets during these 3 1/2 years has been truly remarkable and entirely worthwhile. I was lucky: I serendipitously found an organization that I loved earnestly and which helped me blossom as an individual. To retire, then, feels strange and unfamiliar, but it’s time to make way for new people to experience what I have.

My PAFN parting shot, as written in a PAFN-wide email on Wed., Nov. 30.

Me and my fellow outgoing PAFN co-chair, Nalin C.

(Originally posted Nov. 30)

Make a wish

(Originally posted Nov. 15, 2011)
French macaroons from Albemarle Baking Co.

I've 'mist' you

I was promised sunny, 70-degree weather today and stepped out the door wearing shorts and a T-shirt, only to find that it was freezing outside. Then this evening I exited the library to find a flash downpour. Cville weather, MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

Pumpkin carving on the Lawn, Oct. 23, 2011

(Originally posted Oct. 25, 2011)

La Michoacana

If you’re looking for a Guadalajara-esque taco place, this isn’t it. Rather, it’s a homey, bare-bones, Mexican-style deli that also serves remarkably fresh and authentic tacos, burritos, tortas, and the usual suspects. But the main draw (at least for me) were the tacos — easily some of the best I’ve had. The tortillas are made fresh in-house and food is ready in under five minutes. That this taco purveyor is almost always occupied by a fair number of locals is a good sign — especially for an establishment that sits in a part of town largely unexplored by the U.Va population. (“It’s like 4 blocks from the Downtown mall sketchy end,” my dining companion noted via text message). 
Here, tacos are nested atop tortillas made in-house. Inside are freshly seasoned meat that can be topped with at least three types of each spice level of salsa. I opted for the green hot salsa that added citrus to the spicy flavor parade. The best tacos are those with a single meat: Tacos Mexicanos or Super Taco. La Michoacana also serves some more unusual meat options, such as pork rinds, tripe and beef tongue. The Taco Loco, on the other hand, with a combination of chorizo, beef and chicken, was inferior to the simpler tacos because the different flavors of the meats were hard to distinguish in a dish too overwhelming with salt. Still, it’s hard to complain for $2.25 a taco.
If you’re still hungry after you finish your main course, you can browse the interior of the deli for exotic flavored popsicles; flavored, glass-bottled sodas; or Mexican candies. Either way, pull up a seat and enjoy some of the best tacos in Charlottesville.
Soft tacos at La Michoacana garnished with a complimentary lime wedge.

(Originally posted Oct. 19, 2011)

Cappellino's Crazy Cupcakes

The former charm of this cupcakery have come and gone with the waning cupcake trend in Charlottesville. What was once a humbly attractive establishment with bubbly staff is now marked by subpar (or even stale) offerings and pronounced curtly service. And whether this bakery will see another year in business is doubtful. I recently purchased a stale chocolate chip pecan cookie and a dry-as-dirt red velvet cupcake that tasted of artificial licorice. I came by this bakery early Saturday afternoon with a friend who ordered first and felt utterly ignored by the four employees in the otherwise empty bakery. I waited patiently for my time to order and was annoyed by the lack of common courtesy. The middle-aged woman who eventually realized I, too, was looking to buy something seemed annoyed when I made my selections — even though I’d ordered quickly.
The bakery’s strengths still lay in the charming decorations that mask inferior flavor and texture. Sure, the cupcake frosting is still as fluffy and smooth as ever, but the cupcake itself is arid. And the stale cookies, though physically attractive, obviously have been left uneaten in the bakery display for much too long.

What ever is happening, this cupcake shop does not deserve my business. After all, why, when there are plenty of other places with superior offerings, would I pay money for such insolence?

(Not from Cappellino’s Crazy Cupcakes) A carrot cupcake from the much-superior Crumbs in Washington, D.C.

(Originally posted Oct. 19, 2011)


I was too lazy to walk all the way to Bodo’s Bagels this morning from Clark Library, so I hit up the cafe to grab a bagel and a cup of coffee. Before bagging my bagel, the cashier picked out two bagels, one at a time, to inspect for mold. Suddenly, I am no longer hungry.

(Originally posted Oct. 12, 2011)

To have and to hold

Today is my parents’ 30th wedding anniversary, and I cannot think of two people so different, yet so made for one another. 
Out of sheer curiosity one night last month, I called home to ask my parents how old they were when they first met. As the child of two very traditional parents, I expected to hear a retelling of the typical four years of courtship followed by the standard one-year engagement preceding the marriage. But no, they’d met at 26 years old and were engaged and married within a year. Shocked and perplexed, I inquired how, after only a year, my dad knew my mom was ‘the one.’ Clearly, if they are still together 30 years later, they must’ve known that they had something special. He replied with the amorphous and unsatisfactory, “when you know, you know” answer — not exactly the succinct formula I was looking for.

Even after three decades of matrimony, my mom and dad still share giggles. They habitually seek one another’s company and take comfort in winding down from their busy work days by spending quality time together — whether it’s by cooking and eating dinner together or by watching American Idol. They relish in the little things, like grocery shopping and exploring the merchandise at the local Sears.

Certainly, not every day has been marked by peace and sunshine, but (as my mentor once said) it is by successfully navigating through the tough times that relationships grow. After all, nobody gets anywhere if two people talk only about pleasant things. A marriage is made stronger when the two parties stand united during tough times; after all, who else do you expect to stand with you when you are emotionally shattered than with your spouse, with whom you’ve promised to weather through the best of times and the worst of times?

So maybe there isn’t a secret to maintaining a long and successful marriage. Maybe all it takes is for two compatible people who have an unwavering devotion and the right intentions for each other and the family they built together. Hopefully one day I’ll have that, too.
My parents on their 10th wedding anniversary at a Chinese restaurant in Arlington, VA, with my older sister and me. (My brother Tony had not been born yet)

(Originally posted Oct. 3, 2011)


Bang! presents itself as a modern, Asian-fusion, tapas-style restaurant in downtown Charlottesville — just one block from the Downtown Mall. Its menu is relatively concise, but still offers appealing variety.

The kitchen is skilled in its preparation of seafood, but much less adept in its handling of the land-grazing counterparts on the menu. The Firecracker Shrimp, for example, was a knockout with its tasty creamy garlic sauce that dressed the shrimp and accompanying bed of cabbage and carrot slaw. The slaw added both crunch and freshness to the fried shrimp dish — easily the best of the night. The mussels in another dish swam in a zesty lemony sauce, interestingly, on a bed of angel hair vermicelli noodles that were not quite the right medium to carry the citrusy sauce. The Crab Pot Stickers were another winning dish, arriving as a trio of wonton skins that enveloped the tasty crab meat. As with the first dish, the main show stoppers sat on yet another tasty bed of shredded vegetables to mop up the sweet gingery sauce.

Yet Bang! falls flat with its noodles. The fine vermicelli noodles under the mussels were uninspiring, as was the Thai Beef, Bok Choy soba noodles that arrived at our table in monocromatic taupe with hardly a sliver of bok choy. There was no variety of texture or flavor to enliven the otherwise mushy dish that needed either a spicy kick or a more substantial sauce. Another noodle dish that left something to be desired was the Chicken Curry, which lacked sufficient spice and depth of flavor to warrant the name ‘curry.’ The chicken chunks were uninteresting, but even more so were the thin noodles that interwove the chicken chunks.

What Bang! fails in flavor it makes up for in ambiance. The restaurant is set up in something that more resembles a home than a restaurant, but the sound level was at a comfortable level for a Saturday night — or any night. There are also sleek, high-back booths available, each with a soft candle light in small tabletop lanterns that add charm to the modern setting.

But don’t come hungry — The food was good, but not so for the price: each dish costs 8-11 and is about the size of an appetizer.

Firecracker Shrimp

(Originally posted Oct. 2, 2011)

The MB effect

Everyone who’s ever been on The Cavalier Daily managing board (lowercase) knows what I’m talking about. When you spend 40+ hours a week within the confines of the cavernous offices in the Newcomb Hall basement, it’s easy to forget and to neglect your world beyond the newspaper. The majority of the people you see and speak to daily are on the CavDaily staff. Nearly all your daily thoughts somehow involve the newspaper. And your weekend plans? They mostly involve sleep.
But one day, that all ends. Once sweet retirement begins, you are thrust into a life that has little to do with production deadlines. The gems of normal daily life that the managing board had taken for granted — free time, a reasonable amount of sleep of night, being able to pay attention in class without feeling fatigued on a regular basis — are possible once again. And yet to be suddenly thrust into normalcy of college life feels uncomfortably unfamiliar. Time that had always been so structured on staff — the supposed 5 p.m. News article headline, the 1:15 a.m. roll deadline, etc. — is now more nebulous.
At some point, we all wonder what it is that we have to return to once CavDaily is over. Suddenly, you have to find more structure in your social life that had hung in limbo while you spent an egregious amount of time editing or working on lead editorials. You have to remember who your non-CavDaily friends are — if those relationships hadn’t already waned while you juggled your MB obligations and academics. Life on staff is stressful at times, but comfortable. You know who’s competent, who’s not. You know who you trust to submit a top-notch story, and you know who you can keep your eye on. But such lines are no so clear-cut in the real world. Relationships — both friendly and romantic — are considerably less structured and are unlikely to follow a comparably rigid timeline.
Gone are the days in which you sit in your office chair to find 40 unread emails from staff that need to be sorted, answered and read before you even begin to start on your daily work. Now student life seems to have considerably less purpose. But life goes on.
Would I trade shoes with the current managing board? Absolutely not. But if I could, would I pass up the opportunity to be on The Cavalier Daily managing board? Absolutely not.
This post was inspired by a recent Tumblr post by littlejuansays, also known as the 122nd Cavalier Daily operations manager.
(Originally posted Sept. 11, 2011)

Amateur review

My debut as an amateur reviewer: (Originally posted on an online review forum)
This sunscreeen made me break out into a pizza face* like no other product has before. I don’t have sensitive skin by any means and hardly ever get pimples, but I saw large, prominent, red pimples on my forehead within days of using this (I have combination skin). I have, however, used the SPF 55 version for years with no problems. Sure, the SPF 100 version gives great sun protection for the price, but nothing is worth the resulting ogre zits.
Skip this and opt for the SPF 55.
Sanitary packaging
Pizza face breakouts
Large, prominent red pimples where you’ve never seen them before

Pimple-free. Sunrise atop Humpback Rock, November 2009.

*Thank you, Hallie C., for coming up with the phrase, “pizza face."
(Originally posted July 31, 2011)

Via email

  • Me: Hi Dad, The power on my street went out for about 6 hours (1 - 7 pm), but I didn't open my refrigerator. Can I still use the eggs or should I throw them out? --Jane
  • Dad: Yes you can still use the eggs. --Dad
  • Me: Thanks for transferring money into my very thirsty bank account, Dad. I was getting a little concerned about how I would feed myself during these next few weeks...
  • Dad: You're welcome. Dad is always there for you whenever you need him. --Dad
(Originally posted July 22, 2011)

Birthday present to a stranger

My goal for Friday was to get the #1 ticket at Bodo’s Bagels. I went to bed early Thursday night like a n00b, missed survivor hour, and begrudgingly peeled myself out of bed at 5:30 a.m. after only 2 1/2 hours of sleep (I couldn’t sleep :-/) to walk half an hour all the way to Bodo’s on the Corner. I was first! I arrived really early, so I awkwardly stood on the sidewalk so as not to disturb the employees who were unstacking and arranging chairs around the outdoor tables. But as soon as they went inside and locked the door behind them, I darted to the chair closest to the door and propped open a book to read and to busy myself while I waited until the doors were unlocked.
Ten minutes later, a frazzled mess of a girl and her less disheveled friend straggled over from Cohn’s and asked whether I was in line for Bodo’s (why else would I be sitting outside Bodo’s at that hour??). After pathetically explaining that it was her birthday and had been daydreaming about getting the #1 ticket to mark the special day (her friend concurred, noting that the birthday girl had been talking about it for hours) and that both had been up all night working on their respective architecture projects, she asked me whether I’d be willing to let her go first. She then impulsively offered to buy me OJ as an extra nudge.
I agreed.
Yea, yea, I know this makes me sound like a pansy, but the girl looked like crap. Also, I need all the good karma I can get (it was her birthday, after all. And no, she wasn’t lying; she showed me her driver’s license). It wasn’t about the promise of OJ, either. To be honest, I didn’t want any; it was early and I really wanted caffeine.
So, I chatted with her friend who repeatedly said I was “too nice.” (I agreed, but did not, naturally, say so). As soon as the birthday girl started talking again, I immediately regretted deferring the #1 spot to her because she turned out to be an incredibly obnoxious girl who blabs endlessly about nothing of particular importance and justified her ridiculous chatter merely because it was her birthday. Still basking in her impending glory, she talked selfishly as if she earned that spot. But she didn’t earn it. She was 10 minutes too late. What really bothered me, though, was that she didn’t seem like the type of person who would give up her spot if our roles were reversed. If I’d asked to cut in line, she would’ve stomped her ground, stubbornly stuck her nose in the air and looked the other way. 
Eventually, the doors opened and we all poured in. I watched the birthday girl, still swimming with happiness, repeatedly ask the cashier for the reassurance that she would receive the #1 ticket even if my order rang in first, boasting to all within earshot that it was, in fact, her birthday. I looked longingly at the excited pair and made my order, which indeed rang first. My receipt read, “#2.”
After picking up my comparably worthless bagel, I slowly made the lap of defeat to the door, still listening to the girl finish her order.
She didn’t order any OJ.

My #2 ticket.

(Originally posted July 3, 2011)

Wanna-be hipster

Yesterday I joined the legions of wannabe hipsters who parade around with moleskin notebooks. I’m a huge fan of The Diary of a Provincial Lady series (by E.M. Delafield) — books that present the story, in the form of diary observations laced with endearing witticisms, of a provincial English woman who travels to prominent places promoting her book, but remains, remarkably, the same charming mother and wife uncorrupted by any feelings of pompous superiority despite her new-found literary fame — and happen to be one of those weird people who make lists for everything, so I’ve begun by dedicating a different ongoing list for each page. Here are several lists I’ve begun so far:
1. Peculiar observations:
  • First entry: Wednesday, June 15, 2011: Discover that roommate is afraid of semicolons, colons and dashes. (She balked at the idea of inserting a semicolon to correct a comma splice in her graduate school personal statement, noting that “A semicolon is worse than a colon!”)
  • Second entry: (Circa April 2011) Vietnamese roommate of nearly a year finally discovers that I, too, am Vietnamese (if only a quarter).
3. Accomplishment of the Day:
  • Monday, June 20: Got brownie points in biochem for knowing the author of Stuart Little (E.B. White). Classmates evidently jealous.
2. Notable quotes (or ones that make me laugh).
  • First entry: “There are three types of lies: lies, damn lies, and statistics.”
This is a Christmas card my brother Tony made me in December. It is completely irrelevant to the content of this blog post, but I think it’s cute.

(Originally posted June 21, 2011)


1. Ombre anything looks ridiculous
. Really hope I don’t run into any former professors at the AFC this summer. Nothing like the sight of a professor a) in spandex, and b) sweating it out on the elliptical (evidently the machine of choice for most professors I’ve spotted).
3. Would rather not hear about Rep. Anthony Wiener’s antics or see anymore leaked photographs on The Colbert Report — no matter how fit he is.
4. Am very peeved that I spent hours rearranging and tidying my room upon my arrival in Charlottesville, only to realize that my beloved moleskin notebook is nowhere to be found.
5. My sister is right: I really do have baby hands.
6. Truth: There’s an “ugly carrot” in every bag of baby carrots (Bridesmaids movie reference ;-))
Normal posts will resume as soon as I think of a worthy topic. Have an idea or particular topic you’d like me to write about? You can submit it here. It’s completely anonymous!
(Originally posted June 19, 2011)

11th hour

This entry was written the day before the results of the 2011 University-wide student elections were announced in February, but only recently rediscovered among dozens of half-finished entries.
In less than 36 hours, the results of the 2011 University-wide elections will be announced. In less than 36 hours, the childish and belligerent behavior that has characterized much of this year’s political circus will finally be put to bed. In less than 36 hours, I can finally calm the nerves that have occupied much of my thoughts during the last two weeks.
Student politics isn’t what it used to be. Student leaders are supposed to challenge prevailing notions of leadership and provoke discussions to improve our understanding of the system and its flaws. Now, students strive to be a part of the superficial elitism that adulterates the University’s tradition of student self-governance. The greatest flaw is that students are often elected based on popularity and the prestige of his social network rather than the merits of his qualifications and accomplishments. What matters more than the quality of one’s campaign video is that of his platform and the degree to which his ideas are feasible.
I’ve covered student politics since my first year at the University, but I have never been as anxious or concerned about the outcome than I have this year. Certainly, endorsement interviews matter, but it does not always provide a holistic picture of any political hopeful. Other things that matter are what someone has accomplished in his current position. Hopefully, the election results will prove that the student body was smart enough to look beyond the grandiose promises and select the correct leaders.
The University’s tradition of student self-governance is not perfect. There are good years and bad, and for every great student leader, there are a dozen others who hope to follow in his footsteps and match — if not surpass — his Facebook friend count. But what does that number matter if the majority of student leaders still think you’re a fool?
Obviously, I have nothing to personally gain nor lose, but I can’t shake my belief of what a good student leader ought to be. The ridiculous arguments for certain candidates have been gravely disconcerting. I can’t say I’m not afraid, but I do trust that University students are intelligent enough to know a phony when they see him or his campaign video.
The Cavalier Daily’s 121st managing board.

(Originally posted May 31, 2011)

Georgetown Cupcake

Washington, D.C. is famous for its history, politics and … cupcakes? Unlike many a politician, Georgetown Cupcake is something that really lives up to all the hype. The quality of its cupcakes is consistently good and the prices ($2.75/cupcake), though pricy compared to a 99 cent cake mix from the grocery store, are fairly reasonable when one considers the competition: $3.25/cupcake at Cake Love, $3.50/cupcake at Hello Cupcake and Baked and Wired. (Bear in mind, though, that GC cupcakes are slightly smaller than the others. Still, quality trumps quantity).
I haven’t loved all the flavors I’ve tried, but there’s something good to be said of all of them. The cake itself is moist without being too dense and is served at the right temperature (I’ve had cold cupcakes at other cup cakeries before. Very unexpected and equally unpleasant) and the frostings are the right consisency: buttercream, vanilla and cream cheese frostings are fluffy yet smooth, and the dark chocolate frostings are rich and satiny. Additionally, the flavors in the frosting and any extra/decorative drizzles complements flavors in the cake. The chocolate fudge drizzle on the strawberry champagne cupcake, for example, is more than mere decoration; the cupcake would taste rather plain without it.
Another thing worth noting is the decor. During all my trips to the D.C. landmark, there are always fresh flowers perfectly arranged on each of the three tables in the store (remarkably, even in the winter) — a small detail, but one that adds to the charm of the store. A wall is accented with a Andy Warhol-like cupcake prints. Overall, the decor is simple, yet charming — a setting that alows the cupcakes to take the stage as the main attraction.
Needless to say, what keeps me coming back are the red velvet cupcakes and the confidence that what I buy will be a consistently superior product. Fortunately, the stream of foot traffic through the store means patrons will always get a fresh cupcake that has not previously been frozen (a common practice in traditional bakeries).
Just a warning: Avoid peak hours unless you are willing to wait in line for upwards of an hour. In my experience, a line starts to form at around 2 pm, so anytime before that would be ideal.
My favorite Georgetown Cupcakes: Red velvet (my favorite cupcake), chocolate2 (extra special with its unique and rich dark chocolate frosting), lemon blossom, key lime, salted caramel.
Skip: Chocolate banana

Strawberry champagne cupcake (only available in January)

(Originally posted May 22, 2011)


I had always believed being happy was a choice, that one chose to see the proverbial glass as half-full or half-empty. I lived with the mantra that if I always walked about with a positive outlook, I would be numbed to the pangs of sorrow that came my way — that it was better to accept the negatives and move on, and that if I were happy on the exterior, I would feel the same positivity within.
Perhaps it is not so beneficial after all to always try to look at the positives. Perhaps stowing away uncomfortable or unpleasant feelings does not promote any long-term benefits. Refusing to acknowledge the reality of a crumbling relationship, for example, does nothing to save you from the inevitable resentment or grief. Obviously, it is better to acknowledge the fact and make a concerted effort to improve, but what if it is not within your power to change a situation? What can you do if the people you love disappoint you by disappointing each other? What can I offer my personal mediation if my hands are empty?
I used to think that at the very least, whatever struggles came my way would make me a stronger person with more depth of experience. Grief and disappointment made me a more stolid person, but the bitter evils of resentment tear down the emotional fortresses I’ve learned to build during the past seven years, leaving behind only a shell of an individual.
The biggest struggle is finding the balance between ignoring life’s woes and facing the blows with dignity. I just need to find my footing on that emotional spectrum and accept what I cannot change.
(Originally posted May 15, 2011)

(Source: milkteef)

(Originally posted April 2, 2011)

Tale of a lost Sharpie

Points have been deducted from my grade — and that of everyone in my biology lab group — for a missing sharpie at our table. Really. The class received the following email from our TA last week:
A sharpie marker was taken from one of the lab tables during our lab.  While this may seem like a minor infraction, remember that with 700 students, small things add up fast.  You are all bound by the honor code, and I expect the marker to be returned.
First, we didn’t pocket the pen. The marker has been within inches of E. coli and other nasties, so I can’t imagine said object would be desirable to anyone. Second, I’m pretty sure this would be considered a “trival” honor violation (imagine the news headline: “Four students expelled for lost $1.39 fine-tip marker”), but whatever. Points are points! We offered to replace the marker to regain lost points and redeem our dignity; I even bought a new one on my way home from lab today. Then the TA sent out another email this evening:
I am not happy to tell you that another sharpie was missing after our lab today.  This behavior is completely disrespectful to your class. If it is not returned, there will penalties.
Well, at least it wasn’t our table this time! (Our lost sharpie still hasn’t surfaced, so there was no marker to be stolen!)
I should buy a 10-pack just in case.
“Do we get bonus points if we bring extra?” — Yuriy S.’s inquiry to the TA

(Originally posted Feb. 14, 2011)

Calculus Valentine's Day poem

You pull my heart strings at a constant rate.
The three words I want to tell you, I cannot wait.
My love for you is not a partial fraction,
But rather, a whole lot of attraction.
In my heart, video games make their revolution.
I love them, but I’d rather have a u-substitution.
In this short life, my love for you is exponential.
The time I have now, I will use its max potential
To work for you who I truly desire.
Make no error, your love, I will acquire.
 Written by my 17-year-old brother, a hopeless romantic.

(Originally posted Feb. 13, 2011)

Never send Valentines to your teacher

  • Me: what are you doing for valentine's day? does your high school do anything? like carnations?
  • Tony: yeah we have "french kisses" lollipops or w/e
  • Me: ?
  • Tony: idk o.o
  • Me: what do they look like?
  • Tony: no idea. I no buy. I was about to buy one for ms. pacifico [Jane's note: He has the hots for Pacifico]
  • Me: OMG NO
  • Tony: ya I know. for math we made calculus valentines. I was about to write one for ms. pacifico but she has a hubby. and my friend leo was about to write one to ms. kolnik, but same problem! D;
  • Tony: we facepalmed. leo: "your husband's absolute value is zero"

(Originally posted Feb. 13, 2011)

(Originally posted Feb. 6, 2011)


The size of one’s ego is directly correlated with the length of his E-mail signature.  I have sent and received countless E-mails with the who’s-who of the University during my time with The Cavalier Daily, but the signature of one particular student leader stretches an astounding 10 lines: (information has been changed, but the basic structure has been retained)  
Jack A. Stevens
Elected Leaders Council, Vice-President for Administration
College of Arts & Sciences, Political Philosophy, Policy & Social Thought major
McIntire School of Commerce, Leadership minor
University of Virginia 2011
Connect with me:
First, there’s the pretentious middle initial. Its appearance here is more absurd if you know “Jack” takes every opportunity to flaunt his middle initial — even on handwritten name tags (why?). Then there’s the elitist second line to reaffirm his pride in the belief that he is an important somebody. Pretentious major, check. Useless minor? Check. School? Obvious and unnecessary. Oh, and Jack even offers three ways to stalk him: He entices you to add him on Facebook to artificially inflate his friend count; follow him on Twitter to clutter your tweet box with more than anyone would care to know about his daily musings; and encourages you to check out his online resume so someone can get him a job.
Better than a palm read, huh?
(Originally posted Feb. 5, 2010)
When I'm typing a post for my blog:
When I'm typing an essay for school:

(Originally posted Jan. 18, 2011)

(Originally posted Dec. 28, 2010)


I may be wary to answer the ubiquitous question of whether that outfit makes you look fat, but I have no qualms against telling someone at the library — someone speaking at a volume incongruous with the environment — to shut it. It’s final exam season. People are stressed.I’m stressed. So why do people think it’s acceptable to engage in long, lively conversations on the third floor of Clemons Library or that this is an appropriate place to make phone calls? Take a call in the stairway — that’s fine. Even I hit the “silent” button when my mother calls so the vibrating noise doesn’t bother my neighbors, but I step out of the room to call her back.
Someone is talking loudly on the phone, BRB.

Found on the third floor of Clemons Library

(Originally posted Dec. 15, 2010)

When you take a picture with your friend and she looks like,

... and you look like
... then she uploads it on Facebook and tags you in it.

(Source: amberleannarose)

(Originally posted Dec. 13, 2010)


He called me a ghoul once … Best insult I’ve ever received!
— Opinion columnist Claire S. responding to a comment by Sean Cannan of comment fame.

(Originally posted Dec. 7, 2010)