Saw this post from Jason Lamberton’s blog. I couldn’t agree more with this list by Ben Franklin!

Ben Franklin’s 12 Rules of Management:

1. Finish better than your beginnings.

2. All education is self-education.

3. Seek first to manage yourself, then to manage others.

4. Influence is more important than victory.

5. Work hard and watch your costs.

6. Everybody wants to appear reasonable.

7. Create your own set of values to guide your actions.

8. Incentive is everything.

9. Create solutions for seemingly impossible problems.

10. Become a revolutionary for experimentation and change.

11. Sometimes it’s better to do 1,001 small things right than only one large thing right.

12. Deliberately cultivate your reputation and legacy.

Recently last weekend, I was hanging out with two guys who went and graduated from Gallaudet Univ. All of us have a job under the government so we were chatting how much we are ditching work, finding ways to get a nap, and have two hours long of lunch.

While I thought I was doing it bad, my friend said he ditched work at 2 pm last friday, went to Gallaudet to play basketball scrimmage at 3 pm till 5 pm. “What the heck, it’s Friday,’ he said.

We’re having a usual guy talk, the topic inevitably came up, sex and girls. So, we’re talking about girls and since I didn’t graduate from Gallaudet, they talked about girls they knew at Gallaudet.

You know, when someone couldn’t remember a certain person, he would try to explain what that person looks like, like how she has this big ugly mole under her nose or she has a large rack of boobs…you wouldn’t believe how much details we were able to get into, like her legs are like cankles (calves + ankles together), or the differences in every girl. But one thing stood out. It went like this:

Boy #1: “I’ve having an eye on this girl who plays on the volleyball team.”
Boy #2: “Yeah? who’s she.”

Boy #1: ” [name withdrawn for a reason of privacy.]”
Boy #2: “Oh, I don’t recognize the name, what does she look like?”

Boy #1: “Oh, you seen this girl before! She’s like this pretty tall girl, can smack the hell out of the ball, tanned, has fine long legs.”
Boy #2: “Uh-huh, still doesn’t ring a bell.”

Boy #1: “You still dunno who? she used to have sex with this [name of guy], I feel sorry for this guy cuz she said her dildo is better than his dick but he’s lucky cuz she’s open-minded and let another girl sleep by his arms in the bed. You remmy now?”
Boy #2: “Ohh yeah, that’s her? yeah, she’s a fine-looking girl. You digging her?”

I’m not responsible for any accuracy in this conversation but my point is that you can actually remember people by who they did with and some personal stuffs. I wonder if that’s common… to remember people like that. Or that’s just us, the guys.

Only in Gally…, Posted via Sidekick II by natech.

Two deafies talking to each other thru window.

About time for me to post something in here. The last two weeks have been pretty crazy. It started when I found out I got the phone interview with Google for data technician position at one of their datacenters that help power the search engine and gmail plus other hundred projects they have it going. The interview went ok, realized how much I need to learn more about Linux and stuffs if I am going to nail the 2nd interview. Then, I found out that our current landlord has decided he wants to sell the house where we’re living at, so I was busy looking for other places. Found 3 potential places, we’ll find out where we shall live by this weekend.

Ugh, I don’t particularly like moving to different place. It’s so time-consuming and have to come up with enough money to pay the security deposit, the rent, and other hundred stuffs you need to buy for moving out/in. Also, if I got the job, I might have to move out of DC and move in back with my uncle who lives in Leesburg where it’s closer to the Google datacenter whereabout (I still don’t know where exactly the place is but it’s located near Dulles airport) so they tell me. I think I will contact brandon foster tulsa oklahoma to carry my valuable things.

All in all, life is changing but one of my fave quotes is “I don’t know where I’m going but I’m on my way.” and “Life happens when you’re busy making other plans.”

After being lazy for the large part of this summer (wow, soon over), except for playing golf, wait, that doesn’t really count as a real exercise because you could weigh 300 lbs and still be able to hit the ball over 300 yards and I was having this crisis figuring why should people worry about having a six-pack abs while you should be enjoying life–eating lots of foods, drinking beers, watching movies with popcorns, playing golf and more beers—because in the end, no one can live forever. But that all changed after I saw a really fat tourist woman struggling to take a seat in the metro and I could see the cellulites all over her legs. And one time, I was running toward the metro to get in before the doors closed and after I got in, I saw a fat guy trying to run too but he couldn’t run very fast and the doors shut on him, as to say “Sorry, you weren’t fast enough.” Also, I don’t want to see my life flash before me by having a heart attack. So I decided this was enough to get me back to the weightlifting room.

Yesterday, I went out for a run and shit, I was completely out of shape and all of my body began to itch, due to a lack of oxygen, and it had gotten so bad that I had to scratch myself like I was having mosquitoes bites all over my body but that had nothing to do with the itch as it was just trying to tell me to stop running and that I was not in the shape to do even 2 miles. I walked, then managed to end my run. A light bulb was turned on in my head; I gotta work out, period.

Today, I got myself out of work and went to a weighlifting room down in the basement here. It’s shitty, looks like we got the equipment/weights from the prison like temporary boiler. Shouldn’t that be the other way around? Since this was my “first” day back into the weightlifting room, I did a warm-up workout:

135/10/3* chest bench press
40/10/3 chest dumbells flatbed press
10/2 chest/shoulder dips

60/8/3 biceps bar curls standing
25/8/3 biceps dumbbells curls seated
25/8/3 biceps concentration curls

75/10/3 triceps bar overhead flatbed
70/10/2 triceps cable pull rope

25/2 inclined situps
20/2 leg raises flatbed
20/2 crunches

* lbs/reps/sets

and

13 mins on treadmill ~ 2.1 miles

I know I’m going to be pretty sore for a few days but after it passes, I should be good and work out hard.

Something happened to me that’s never been happened before. I made a hole in one! That is every golfer’s dream—to make a hole in one, especially from a par 3—in our lifetime. Today after work, I decided to go out to the University of Maryland golf course (I wish I was a student there, so I’d become a member and get discounted fees). My friend, Luke, had a meeting at 4:30 pm so he couldn’t meet me there on time. He’d meet me later at the 10th hole, since I had enough time to do 18 holes. So I went ahead and played by myself.

This happened on the 3th hole, par 3, 187 yards marker, but the white tee was moved back about 3 yards behind the marker, so that made it 190 yards long. I was deciding whether to go with an iron 3 or 4, but since it was a little downhill and virtually no wind, I chose iron 4. I did some warm-up swings, trying to get some rhythm and feeling confident with my swing. Then I stood behind the ball, visualizing my shot and which direction I’m gonna aim and shoot at. I usually pick a tree or some easy spots where I could see from the corner of my left eye. (it helps when my left eye is dominant over my right eye, thus I shoot a gun left-eye, not from my right eye and don’t worry, I don’t own a gun myself). I set my shoe spikes into the grass underneath me, grip my Cleveland TA7 iron, wiggle my wrists a bit to keep loose, and I looked up at my target (a tree, rather than straight at the flagstick) for one more time, took my break for the last time, started my backswing and just let it all go. I felt the ball struck solidly, flew high through the air, I could see the ball a little left of the flagstick, about 3 feet, and was going exactly where I was aiming at. Then, the ball went down and hit hard onto the green, rolled till I couldn’t see it anymore because the slope was curvy downhill.

I walked up to the green, expecting to see my ball on the green but it wasn’t there. Could it have rolled off the green and into the rough? So I looked around the rough; nothing there. Ahh, not again! I didn’t wanna lose my damn ball again, which had happened countless times, but I had an idea that I’d look for the divot instead where the ball had landed onto the green and try to figure out where the ball might have gone. I looked at the divot, and formed an imaginary line where it rolls off. It was pointing at the flagstick. Then it suddenly registered to me that the ball could have gone into the cup…. A possible hole-in-one!? it cann’t be… I walked to the hole and looked down. The ball was there; I had made not only my first hole-in-one but my first eagle too!

Man, I can’t even begin to describe the feeling when I started to realize that the ball had indeed gone down into the cup. I’m sure it’s different for others but to me, I feel like it’s an acknowledgment that my golf skill has become good enough that it’s capable of making a hole-in-one. What is a greater satisfaction is that I can proudly say I’ve made a hole in one in my lifetime, although there was no one to witness it. I don’t care as I know for a fact that I made it. It tells me that after all those hundreds, no, make it thousands, of swings, countless hours of practice, that it has paid off and that it wasn’t a waste of time. It is as if God has rewarded me.

It flashed me back to the days when I was about 12 years old and my dad had a really old golf clubs (he bought them in the 70s after seeing Jack Nicklaus won more than 10 majors and 8 more majors after that) but only used them a few times. My dad is not big of an athlete, so I practically blew the dust off the clubs and went to the backyard and tried to swing at the ball like I’d see them do on the TV. Since we weren’t very affluent nor a member of a country club, I never actually played at a real golf course till I was about 16 years old. I’d save up enough money to buy my own golf club set, bought them for only 100 dollars at Target, with a driver (it was really a wood 3 with graphite shaft, wood 5, wood 7 and iron 3 through pitch wedge). To compare how cheap that was, my current putter alone costs $90 dollars.

Since I turned 16 years old and able to drive alone, I drove to a public golf course and started playing golf. I believe it was at Nicholas Park Golf Course in Jacksonvile, IL. They had a pond between two holes and I hit, like, 4 straight balls into the water before finally hitting it long enough to get over the pond. Since then, I’ve played more often but to the limits of my budget and didn’t really play much during college since I was almost always broke and my eyes constantly in front of computers while chowing down junk foods. Now I’m receiving steady paychecks from my employer and able to afford green fees, before was I able to take up golf more seriously. Let there be more hole-in-ones to come!

Pics taken from my Sidekick companion:

Comic, Posted via Sidekick II by natech.

A father reading a college guide while his son said I’d rather go to

Hogwarts.

My office is on the 4th floor, so I usually take an elevator if I don’t want to arrive here being out of breath and my thighs shaking. I was surfing the web as usual and fell upon this page that tells you some secrets about elevator. It says if you press on the any floor button (which floor you want to go) and the “Door Close” button at the same time, it’ll go into an express mode, skipping floors straight to the floor you wanted to go. The author said it works on most elevators. I’m gonna give it a try! Will update soon. :-)

The link: http://thedamnblog.com/index.php?y=2005&m=07&d=31

Back in the 1990s when Michael Jordan was at his prime, he had a famous motto, “Be like Mike.” cuz everyone wants to be him or at least play like him. Of course, no one can. Well, now it’s Tiger’s turn. I wanna swing, chip, putt and pump a fist in the air like him. So I went to the golf course today to work on my awful short game–putting and chipping/lobbing.

My short game is seriously lagging, as compared to my irons and driver. It occurred to me that I’ve spent a lot more on the driving range, trying to hit a 300 yards every time, so my short game is being neglected. That is very bad because I read in a magazine that more than 60% of your shots are from 100 yards or less. So, you can’t score low without a solid short game (just ask Michelle Wie). Went to the Langston Golf Course, aka, the nigger’s course but they let you chip/putt for free. Took my sand wedge out and just lob it out there, getting a feel for it. After practicing for like one hour, my rhythm’s much better and I get to understand the ball flight better and where it lands. Then I practiced with my putter as I can’t seem to get a damn straight line. I experimented a bit with my grip, and where I set my putter down. I realize I was setting my putter a bit too far away from me, so I put it closer to my belly, like one inch away. All of a sudden, I was getting much better lines, either going into the cup or barely missing it. So, I think this is going to be my putting position and stick to it. As much as I want to look every bit like Tiger and his golf game, if it works, don’t fix it.

I just saw the U.S. Senior Open highlights on ESPN Sportscenter and there’s this guy named Allen Doyle who scored a record 63 to win the U.S. Senior Open and I saw how he putts. His putting style is ugly and unorthodox yet he made a birdie after birdie. So, if my putting style looks ugly and scored under 70, so what and the point is that you don’t have to have Tiger Woods’ swing/putting to score a birdie.