Taking Time Off
music: What's her name? Virginia Plain.
mood: happy
Believe me when I say that I am usually not this effervescent.
terry on 08.31.05 @ 12:36 AM PDT [link]
My name is Terry and this is my blog.
I am currently living in Los Angeles.
I like films, music, and don't even get me started on long walks on the beach.
I don't read a lot of books, but am always fishing for book recommendations.
My parents are Vietnamese and I was born in America.
That's all you really need to know upfront.
HOME PAGE
ARCHIVE
FAMILY
Lil Ceesco aka Francis Huynh
FRIENDS
Keith Schofield
Matt White
Steven Weigle
Liam Harrison (rarely updated)
Mitch Glaser
EX-VIET KIEU's
Thirsty Thong
VA to VN
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Wednesday, August 31st
Thursday, August 25th
Profound Thought
music: Ulitmate Arcade Fire Playlist
mood: Spiritually Rocked!
So I was talking to my friend Keith about our myspace tomfoolery, and he saw that I listed myself as a Buddhist in my profile. He asked me if I was practising, to which I replied that I should probably start going to a temple to get my head straightened out. Then he says "does it kind of suck that the most famous buddist in the US is Richard Gere?" to which I replied "yeah."
Then it came to me.
Richard Gere is also the most famous gerbil.
Fuck, I may have ask to take the day off.
terry on 08.25.05 @ 03:04 PM PDT [link]
Wednesday, August 24th
What I Did Yesterday
music: I'm running away with you/That's all I ever do/That's all we ever mean/I forgive you/Everything.
mood: Taking back control
So Yesterday -
Woke up, and for the thoudsandth time in my life, I again failed to tell my alarm clock to go fuck itself.
Went to work. My boss told me that I have "a bright future." I wish he had said "you're cooler than Bright Eyes."
Went to Aron's Records to buy some Sunset Junction tickets. Saturday only, as Sunday's line up is a bit weak. Scored a used Raveonettes CD as well as Primal Scream's self-titled, which I've been looking for since the mid-nineties. Rock.
Went to Fatburger for some Chili Dogs, and guess who also likes Fatburger hot dogs? Jason Dolder.
Walked home and organized my magazines. Then I developed a system/schedule of reading and then discarding them.
Then sleep, which I'm beginning to hate. I've developed a fear of dreaming. Somebody please post the word for me, please.
An exciting life, I know.
BTW, still in search of Viet Kieu indie rock girls for friends, "activity partners," possibly modeling work. Somebody told me they're all up in Berkeley/San Francisco. Is this true? Maybe I'll open a Pho place here in L.A. that has a good jukebox and pictures of Damon Albarn, Vincent Gallo and Liz Phair on the walls. Ka-Ching!!!!
Anyways, ladies, if you want to seek me out I'll be at Sunset Junction this Saturday. I'll be the one in front winking at Jenny Lewis. All. Night. Long.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey Keith - I'll write about San Diego tonight after Yoga. And don't worry Michael, I'll post some pics too.
p.s. all that shit about Viet indie rock chicks? Who am I kidding, my parents will arrange my marriage in Vietnam before they let me date a girl who looks and acts like Karen O (yeah, I know she's half-Korean, but you get the idea).
terry on 08.24.05 @ 01:31 PM PDT [link]
Tuesday, August 23rd
KILL FRANK HAS SEIZED THIS SITE
music: CAN SOMEONE TURN UP THE METAL AROUND HERE?
mood: THERE'S BLOOD ALL OVER MY KEYBOARD
LISTEN TO MY STORY!!!!!
Damn! work was hectic yesterday. On top of getting slammed with claims due to inclement weather, I had to slice some cunt's throat because she was trying to waste my flava. Sounds horrible, I know; but I couldn't refrain from some sort of retaliatory action. The bitch was straight trippin, and needed to come correct! Please allow me to elaborate...
I was walking out of the restroom and headed toward the water cooler for purposes of refreshment. An associate of mine, Rebecca, stopped me to comment on my hair. Since I've been growing my hair out, I've been getting mixed reactions from my cohorts and superiors. Surprisingly, most of the comments are quite flattering and complimentary. I say surprisingly because I work in a professional and corporate environment where all the goons dress like wall street clones and have paramilitary haircuts. Anyway, Rebecca told me that I look like a woman with my hair this long and parted in the middle as I did that day. Frustrated with her crass ass remark, I immediately threw my cup of ice water in her face and swung at her neck with my pen in an attempt to behead her. Luckily for Rebecca, my pen was not as sharp as the samurai sword I wished I had been wielding. With her neck bleeding profusely, she dropped to her knees yelping in pain and discomfort. Reacting to her pathetic cries for help, I strangled her and demanded she stop her whining as it was obnoxious and really pissing me off. Her bloody shrieks were beginning to attract attention and I didn't want to make a scene in front of our coworkers. Everyone here is such a fucking gossip. Anyway, I forced her to realize how lucky she was that I didn't completely sever her head from her shoulders. She struggled to apoligize for what she said about my hair but her pleas were inaudible beacuse she was barfing bloodclots. As she continued to gargle blood, she began to finger paint on the wall with her blood. This daunting task actually served to save her life that day. She wrote on the wall that what she had said was actually a compliment. She thinks I'm gorgeous, that I'm "man-pretty".
I thanked her for the clarification and immediately apologized for my unwarranted reaction. I helped her to her feet, where she accepted my apology, and expressed her gratitude for my cordiality. She again apologized for the miscommunication, and I again apologized for the misunderstanding. I guess we just weren't on the same page about what her intentions were. Apologies reciprocated and accepted, I insisted that I alone shall clean up all the blood on the walls and the floor. This allowed Rebecca to apply pressure to her wounds, facilitating the formation of more bloodclots. Boy, was she a bleeder...
Anyway, I saw Rebecca earlier today in the cafeteria where we laughed and joked about the situation while indulging in the build-your-own baked potato and chili bar. True story, I swear.
terry on 08.23.05 @ 04:28 PM PDT [link]
Sunday, August 21st
Catharsis or Restlessness.
music: Just lay your head on my shoulder/Don't worry 'bout a thang baby girl, I'm a soldier
mood: Tired. I'll be editing grammatical errors in the morning.
Again, glorious is the mood as I accomplished everything I set out to this weekend. Haircut, deposit checks, Fellini double bill (Nights of Cabiria and Juliet of the Spirits), Xiu Xiu at the Troubadour, drinks with mates at The Roost, pancakes with Nick, a trip to the Getty Center, sweatin at Bikram Yoga and a blog update.
I had to pack in the weekend as any moment of non-activity leads to a counterproductive restlessness. I'm not usually the social butterfly, but have gained a new appreciation for just hanging about, talking shit with friends and just enjoying the present tense. Which is what everybody has been telling me to do for the last month and a half.
But as my Sunday is beginning to turn into Monday anxiety (workweek, survival, uncontrollable anxiety attacks) it's hard to dramatize the weekend's events chronologically/dramatically in a way that makes me look cool or interesting. This blog has always been about just keeping me busy, an emotional outlet and an opportunity for all my witty friends to post cryptic messages to each other. I can only hope that it makes their workday a little easier. I can't imagine this thing turning into a "Dear Diary."
So things came to a head this weekend emo-style while watching "Nights of Cabiria." I've seen this film before at Cornell a few years ago during a Fellini festival and it affected me in the same way that a film does, like E.T., Babe: Pig in the City, or Life is Beautiful. One of those "life is going to be alright despite whatever shit is going down. I think I cried the first time I saw it.
While I didn't realize it walking into the theater, I was walking into a film that I later perceived to mirror my life. In the film, the main character, Cabiria, a loud-mouth prostituted is hypnotized into falling in love. It's a mesemrizing scene, as she is tranformed from tough to tender, spilling her secrets into the air, returning to innocence in front of an audience of strangers. At the end of the film she is again deluded into love and surrenders her life savings to a husband who doesn't have the nerve to push her off the cliff. She begs for him to kill her, and while he runs off with the money, she passes out in the forest.
The film challenged what I thought of love as the panacea to a life where the only certainty is death. The cynic in me now wants to say that love is simply chemical. A complex combination of the sensory, synapses and electrical impulses that responds to the faintest touch, the slightest curve, the warm whispers. We create the illusion/disillusion that it's all fucking good. We forget that the heart can be deceitful above all things, that comfort can be misleading and tenderness turns cold easily. That intimacy will cut you wide open and "I love you" is a breath with one small tongue tap on the pallette and one small bite to the lower lip (read: meaningless, unless backed by action).
There is a happy ending, however. Cabiria wakes in the night and makes her way to the street. As she walks down the uncertain road (figurative and literal), a small parade of musicians and revellers. They swarm around her and as the tears well up in her eyes, she offers a tender smile. I was waiting to see if the scene would move me as the first experience. I became fixated on Cabiria's eyes. I didn't notice it the first time I saw the film, but there's a moment where she looks staright into the camera, straight into the audience, straight into me. As if to say that there is good in this world, that happiness will come when you least expect it. As it faded to black it hit me - the grand idea of what needs to happen (I won't give it away, as it is now mine). All I need to do now is run with it. Time to stop hitting the snooze button. Time to do what my father always told me about "getting smart."
Time to stop crossing my fingers.
terry on 08.21.05 @ 11:22 PM PDT [link]
Friday, August 19th
Where Are They Hiding?
music: KCRW Morning Becomes Eclectic
mood: busy busy busy
Hey- I have a question to all 7 readers of my blog:
Where the fuck are all the Vietnamese Indie-rock chicks, ages 18-30?
They're definitely not at www.click2asia.com.
Help me out kids.
terry on 08.19.05 @ 09:55 AM PDT [link]
Wednesday, August 17th
Black and Blue
music: "Te Busco" by Celia Cruz
mood: fucking glorious
EACH FROM DIFFERENT HEIGHTS
by Stephen Dunn.
That time I thought I was in love
and calmly said so
was not much different from the time
I was truly in love
and slept poorly and spoke out loud
to the wall
and discovered the hidden genius
of my hands.
And the times I felt less in love,
less than someone,
were, to be honest, not so different
either.
Each was ridiculous in its own way
and each was tender, yes,
sometimes even the false is tender.
I am astounded
by the various kisses we're capable of.
Each from different heights
diminished, which is simply the law.
And the big bruise
from the longer fall looked perfectly white
in a few years.
That astounded me most of all.
(Thank-you, Danilanh. With a ton of faith, we'll get through this)
terry on 08.17.05 @ 04:10 PM PDT [link]
Monday, August 15th
Retail Therapy
music: I got 99 problems but the bitch ain't one
mood: on the lighter side of things
Recent purchases:
$100 pledge to KCRW during their pledge drive. My premium? The Freaks and Geeks DVD box set signed by creator Paul Feig. Will arrive in 8 weeks according to Andrew the volunteer.
The Pocket Canons: The Books of the Bible. Instead of buyng a proper version of the Bible, I've opted to purchase this series, in which each renowned authors such as E.L. Doctorow, Charles Frazier and Bono write the introductions . Caveat Emptor: the U.S version does not have the introcductions written by Will Self or Nick Cave. One of the main reasons I bought the volumes, but hey, I hope to be enlightened anyways.
BTW, I am not a Christian, but am reading it more for literary reasons. Like you care.
terry on 08.15.05 @ 06:29 PM PDT [link]
Sunday, August 14th
Exiled
music: The shadow in the background of the morgue
Where do I begin?
This weekend I moved into a studio apartment in Los Feliz. You see, I had to move because 1) my landlord has decided to convert my former Silverlake house into apartments and 2) I could still feel the ghost of my ex-girlfriend sucking whatever warmth I tried to preserve in the place.
I've been telling everybody that this move was done out of necessity, that this is the survival skills kicking into gear.
Steven helped me move some boxes on Saturday. I hired a guy with a truck to help me with my bed. Tomorrow Jason and I will work on the shelves, desk and computer. Other than that, I did everything myself. All my other friends were either out of town or had to entertain their parents.
Now the bed's set-up. Earlier I walked to Rite-Aid and bought some toiletries. Tried to call a friend, to talk shit out, to no avail. I feel like I'm going to freak out sooner than later. This isn't what I wanted. What started out as "the sweet dream of Los Angeles" (yeah, that's what I called it in my head) quickly blackened into a nightmare. No amount of intellectualizing about the situation can prevent the train wreck ahead.
Alright, I'm going to shut the fuck up before I become a goth and start cutting myself up.
terry on 08.14.05 @ 11:29 PM PDT [link]
Thursday, August 11th
Critical, Critical, Critical
music: Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head . . . .
mood: I know it's over
I don't know what I've become. For now I'll let the obituaries say what they want. That I unraveled quickly. That I caved in on myself. That in the thick of my own confusion, I chose darkness. My friends and family may have to intervene. But I am going to stick with my convictions. For once I will stand by my words. My defenses are ready. I am bracing myself. Here goes:
Terry Huynh's Official #1 Single of 2005 is Gwen Stefani's "Cool."
I know what you're thinking. I'm a 14-year old girl. What's next? Shopping at Urban Outfitters? An 818 area code? Strip me of my scene points. Take whatever indie cred I have. Is the Los Feliz/Silverlake residency just a front? Start encrypting.
But there is no denying the brilliance of this pop gem. It takes me back to the first time I heard Madonna's "Borderline," Pulp's "Common People," and more recently Beyonce's "Crazy in Love." I never liked No Doubt, and thought that Gwen did better on the guest spot (Moby's "Southside," Eve's "Let Me Blow Your Mind"). "Hollaback Girl" had potential. But "Cool" - the song does it for me.
Maybe it's the optimism of the song I long for, the need for reconciliation. Gwen Stefani: I want to relate. I know psychologists would say that it's unhealthy to relate your life to the life of a celebrity. It just feels too real to deny.
And have you seen the video? Possibly my new favorite video, beating out Madonna's "Take a Bow." Directed by Sophie Muller (who did the excellent video for the Jesus and Mary Chain's "Sometimes Always"). The "Cool" video is lush with its soft focus and Mediterranean romanticism, but is bittersweet with it's honesty regarding lost love. Gwen as a brunette? Still sexy.
I could go on and on about this. As if this rant wasn't enough, I'll end with some words from my younger brother, better known as "Kill Frank" on myspace. Supposedly he was going through the same social anxieties I am going though about a year ago. Below is a blog entry posted on his myspace page. Some background info: My brother works for a major insurance company in Harrisburg, PA. He lives at home with our parents and spends most of his free time hanging out with his stoner friends. What he really wants to do is be a drummer for a band. He is one year younger than I am.
Friday, November 05, 2004
cool new people
Current mood: yar! im at work
Today at work I wore a black suit and tie; and people kept telling me how cool I look...which got me thinking...a lot people tell me Im a cool motherfucker, not just at work but at social outings, bar mitzvahs, etc...that got me thinking about myspace's "cool new people"... how do i get to be one of those "cool new people" that show up on your screen when you sign on??? is it that I am not "new" anymore, that my account is several weeks old?, has it been months? shit. I'm a lot cooler now than I was then, I've added a new "friend" who is actaully a band that I've never heard of and probably don't want to hear. they're all wearing different colored ties and posing like a bunch of douches, but the authority on coolness at myspace thought they were "cool" enough to recommend. am I cooler now that they are my friends?... Is it because I havent uploaded a picture of my self looking "cool"? Is it because I only have three "friends" right now?, one of them being Tom and the other two being bands. ...do I apply to be one of those cool people and list credentials of coolness...what is "cool"?, what sort of characterstics constitutes "cool"?... do I need to list "cool" bands in the music section of my interests?...would I be "cool" if I said i liked story of the year, or good charlotte, yellowcard? are they cool? maybe the ashley simpson band? though my "coolest" friends dont think that said bands are "cool", poseurs and mall-emo kids sure seem to think they're a fucking hit! am I not cool because I listen to my friends? ..."cool" relative to who?... people at work say Im one of the coolest motherfuckers that work here, probably because I dress illmatic but still maintain punk cred by looking like I dont give a fuck [did i just say punk cred? so uncool]... or is it cuz I've smoked copious amounts of pot with those work people?... does smoking pot make me cool? i used to smoke cigarettes in high school to be cool... who knows? am I less cool now that I've blogged this blog? what the hell is a blog anyway? does that make me uncool because I dont know what a blog is, that Im not myspace savvy? Dammit, the word "cool" doesn't look or sound like a real word after typing it and saying it in my head so many times. kewl. im such a fucking tool.
terry on 08.11.05 @ 11:26 AM PDT [link]
Wednesday, August 10th
Friday, August 5th
I am still alive
music: Untie me I've said no vows/The train is getting way too loud
mood: normalized relations with self
I need to keep this up if it is to be a success. Right now I feel like a failure. Again, I cannot blame work, my mood or the situation around me.
Saw "9 Songs" last nite with friends Doldermite and Alison. I think I enjoyed it more than they did, but what's not to like about graphic sex, a lack of narrative and below-par concert footage of bands that I somewhat like. My recommendation - do not go see it with a bunch of dudes.
So there's still a lot of unfinished business here. I still have to recount last weekend's adventures and write someting up for the film "Bad News Bears." I'm predicting that this weekend will be all about doing something with this site. It definetly needs more style. Not content. Form over function. Ultimately it needs to be as cool as I am. No wait - it needs to be as "kewl" as I am.
For filler I'll end with a stanza from A.E. Housman's "A Shropshire Lad." The Dover paperback was sitting in my office (I like to read, you see) and I opened it up to a random page. The following verse attracted my eyes:
And like the cloudy shadows
Across the country blown
We two fare on for ever,
But not we two alone.
Take care and God bless.
terry on 08.05.05 @ 03:15 PM PDT [link]
Tuesday, August 2nd
Reset Button
music: And you’ve been so busy lately/That you haven’t found the time/To open up your mind/And watch the world spinning gently out of time
mood: . . . . . . . .
Please accept my apologies. I've been very busy. The weekend proved to be an adventure that will be detailed when the anxiety passes. I will mention that it involves Karaoke, a lot of drinking and crashing a lesbian party. And getting kicked out of a lesbian party.
I'll leave with this random memory from my middle school history class. Flash back to eighth grade, Mr. McManama's American History class. On a day where the lesson plan was thrown out the window, he decided to pass out 3x5 index cards and had us answer 4 questions. The first three are a blur to me now, something along the lines of what do you want to be, who are your heroes, etc. The fourth question I remember clearly - "One wish. And you can't wish for more wishes." Honestly, I can't remember my wish, but to this day I remember what my friend Ryan said at the time. Ryan was one of those very artistic kids, who at the time a lot of issues, mainly depression. Ryan's wish was to fast forward to adulthood and bypass everything in between. Something along the lines of "13 Going on 30." With a stone-cold look, our clown of a teacher, turned on the serious side and said "Buddy . . . you'll be missing out on the best years of your life." To which Ryan shrugged.
Moral of the story? I've been feeling lately that I want to fast forward. Fast forward to the house and the wife. To filling my heart again. Fast forward to the daughters burned from their mother's image, a son with a pitching arm. The German engineering in the driveway. Fast forward to watching my children grow up. School plays and skinned-knees. Fast forward to my friends getting what they want in life. Fast forward to the salad days. A better/bigger diploma on the wall. Dying my grey hair black again. Having time to watch the sun go down. Learning to enjoy soft rock. Watching my father playing with his grandchildren. Fast forward to me and Francis burying mom and dad, because life doesn't prefer that parents bury their children. Fast forward to me burying my secrets, my good ammo, and whatever residual darkness.
That's what I'm waiting for, that's what I prefer. I don't need the long, hard journey there. I wouldn't wish upon anybody what I'm going through right now. I'm in my mid-twenties and I still feel like a kid.
Fast forward, fast forward, fast forward.
terry on 08.02.05 @ 01:13 PM PDT [link]