end of the week

ok. so this is a pretty late post. i got back from the sonic's game around midnight. it was pretty fun heading into seattle with most of my coworkers to enjoy a night out after what felt like a looooooooong week. the more i visit seattle the more and more i REALLY want to move there. now i'm thinking about a condo in downtown seattle as a possibility also. my friend jake tells me the condos down there start at 300k. not to shabby for a great location. it is now 1.40am and i'm pretty tired now after talking with eileen since i came back. this weekend i booked a flight into burbank and will be spending the weekend with eileen and judy for lunar new year 2006.

i'm heading to sleep now so i'll end my post for now with another poem i use to love.

Poem lyrics of Seven Ages Of Man by William Shakespeare.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side,
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide,
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

again another one of those poems i've come across in HS. man.. i miss my HS english class. back then i was so competitive that i was actually immersed in all my classes. english class was great because here i am, an asian kid who was actually a refugee from vietnam, doing much better than most american born in my class. i was so proud when my english teach would take parts of my papers and made copies to show her other classes. i worked my ass off freshman year in HS. of course it was also a private school, so even regular classes were like AP classes in a regular public school. after bishop montgomery, i left for north high, one of the public schools in torrance... that was a huge joke. i didn't work even half as hard as i did my freshman year and i was in all these honors and AP classes, acing them all. i think that was a bad start for my college career.

i don't think by nature i'm a lazy person, just laid back. i guess being too laid back makes me seem somewhat lazy at the same time. anyhow. my eyes are getting tired and need some rest. i'll post what ever pictures i took up during the weekend since i can't do that stuff at work anymore. damn network nazis.

goodnight for now folks.